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A NOVEL DEALING WITH COTEMPORAHY LIFE.
WRITTEN FOE THE DISPATCH.
BY WILLIAM BLACK,
Author of "A Princess of Thule," "Sunrise," and Many Other
Stories of the Highest Reputation on Ttco Continents.
CHAPTEE XXV.
IN A. NORTHEBN TILLAGE.
But there were to be no three years of
absence, still less of forgetfulness. One
afternoon, on Vincent's going down to the
House, he found a telegram along with his
letters. He opened it mechanically, little
thinking; but the next moment his eyes
'were staring with amazement. For these
were the words he saw before him: "Grand
father very ill; would like to see yon.
Maisrie Bethune, Crossmains, by Cupar."
Then through his bewilderment there flashed
the sudden thought; why, the lauds of
Balloray were up in that Fifeshire region;
had, then, the old man, tired of his world
wanderings, and feeling this illness coming
upon him, had he at length crept home to
die, perhaps as a final protest ? And
Maisrie was alone there, among strangers,
with this weight of trouble fallen upon her.
"Why could not these intervening hours, and
the long night, and the great distance, be
at once annihilated: he saw Maisrie waiting
for him, with piteous eyes and outstretched
hands.
He never could afterward recall with any
accuracy how he passed those hours; it all
seemed a dream. And a dream it seemed
next day, when he found himself in a dog
cart, driving through a placid and smiling
country, with the sweet summer air blowiug
all around him. He talked to the driver, to
free his mind iroui anxious and futile fore
casts. Crossmains, he was informed, was a
small place. There was but one inu in it
the Balloray Arms. Most likely, if two
strangers were to arrive on a visit, they
would put up at the inn; but very lew peo
ple did go through perhaps an occasional
commercial traveler.
"And where is Balloray House or Bal
loray Castle?" was the next question.
"Just in there, sir," said the man, with a
jerk ot his whip toward the woods past
which they were driving.
And of course it was with a great interest
and curiosity that Vincent looked out for
this place ot which he had heard so much.
At present nothing could be seen but the
high stone nail that surrounds so many
Scotch estates; and, branching over that, a
magnificent row ot beeches; but by and by
they came to a clearing in the "policies;"
and all at once the Castle appeared
in sight a tall, rectangular build
ing, with a battlemented parapet
and corner turrets, perched on a
spacious and lofty plateau. It looked more
modern than he had imagined to himself;
but perhaps it had been recently renovated.
From the flag-staff overtopping the highest
of the turrets a flag idly drooped and swung
in the blue 01 the summer sky; no doubt
the proprietor was at home in proud
possession; while the old man who con
sidered himself the rightful owner of the
place was lying, perhaps stricken nigh unto
death, in some adjacent cottage or village
inn. Then the woods closed round again;
and the mansion of Balloray was lost from
view.
Vincent was not in search of the pictur
esque, or he might have been disappointed
with this village of Crossmains which con
sisted of but one long and wide thoroughfare,
bordered on each hand with a row of bare
and mean-lookinz cottages and insignificant
houses. When they drove up to the inn, he
did cot notice that it was a small, two
storied, drab-hued building of the most
commonplace appearance; that was not what
he was thinking of at all; his heart was
beating high with emotion what wonder
might cot meet his eager gaze at any in
stant? And indeed he had hardly entered
the little stone passage when Maisrie ap
peared before him; she had heard the vehicle
arrive, and had quickly come downstairs;
and cow she stood quite speechless her
trembling, warm harms clasped in bis, her
lace upturned to him, her beautiful sad eyes
all dimmed with tears, and yet having a
kind ot joy in them, too, and pride. She
could not say a single word: he would have
to understand that she was grateful to him
for his instant response to her appeal. And
perhaps there was more than gratitude; she
seemed to buuger to look at him for she
had not seen him for so long a while: per
haps she had never thought to see him
again.
"Have you any better news, Maisrie? "
said he.
She turned and led the way into a little
parlor.
"Yes," said she (and the sound of her
voice startled him, the Maisrie of bis many
dreams, sleeping and waking, had been all so
silent). "Grandfather is rather better. I
think heis asleep now or almost asleep. It
is a fever j. nervous lever and he has been
so weak, and often delirious, but he is
quieter now rest is everything."
"Maisrie," he said again (iu his bewilder
ment) "it is a wonderful thing to hear you
speak. I can hardly believe it Where
have you been all this while? Why did you
go away from me?"
"I went because grandfather wished it,"
said she. "I will tell you some other time.
He is anxious to see you. He has been
lretting about 60 manv things; and be will
not confide in me not entirely I cau see
that there is concealment. And Vincent,"
she went on, with her appealing eyes fixed
on him, "don't speak to him about Craig
Boyston! and don't let him speak about it.
You know, when he got ill in Cairo, it was
more home-sickness than anything else, as I
thick; and he said he wanted to go and die
in bis own country and among his own
people; and so we began to cometo Scotland
by slow stages. And now that we are here,
there is no one whom he knows; he is quite
as much alone here as he was iu Egypt; far
more alone than we used to be in Canada.
I fancy he expects that a message may come
for me from Balloray that I am to go
there and be received; and of course that is
quite impossible; I do not know them;
they do cot know me; I don't suppose they
are even aware that we are living in this
place But if he is disappointed in that, it
is Craig-Hoj ston he will think of next he
will want to go thete to seek out relatives
on my account. Well, Vincent, about
Craig-Itoyston "
She hesitated, and the pale and beautiful
face became suffused with a sort of piteous
euibarra&ment
"But I understand, Maisrie, quite welll"
tail! he, boldly. "Why should you be
troubled about that? You have found ont
there is no such place? but I could have
told you so long ago! There was a district
so named at one time and that is quite
enough for your grandfather a picturesque
name that takes his fancy, and he brings it
into his own life. Where is the harm of
tbat? There may have been Grants living
there at one time and they may have inter
married with the Bethunes; anyhow
vour rrandfather has talked himself
into believing there was such a re
lationship; and eyen if it is a de
lusion, what injurV does it do to any hu
man creature? Why," he went on quite
cheerfully, to reassure her and give her
comfort, "I am perfectly aware that no
Scotch lamilv ever had 'Stand Fast, Craig
Bojston!' as its motto. But il the phrase
caught your grandfather's ear, why should
not he choose it for his motto? Every motto
has been chosen by some one at some one
time. And then, it he thereafter came to
persuade himself that this motto bad been
worn by his family, or by some branch of
his family, what harm is there in that? It
is only a fancy it is an innocent delusion
it injures no one "
"Yes, hut, Vincent," she saidfor these
heroic excuses did not touch the immediate
point "grandfather is quite convinced
about the Grants of Craig-Boyston; and he
will be going away in search of them, so
that I may find relatives and shelter. And
the disappointment will be terrible. For he
has got into a habit of fretting that never
was usual with him. He has fits of distrust
ing himself, too, and begins to worry about
having done this or done that; and you
know how unlike that is to his old courage,
when he never doubted for a moment but
that evervthing he bad done was done lor
the best. ' And to think that he should vex
himself by imagining he had not acted well
by me when he has given his whole life to
me, as long as I can remember "
"Maisrie," said he, when your grandfather
gets well, and able to leave this place, where
are you going?"
"How can 1 say? she made answer, wist
fully enough.
"For I do not mean to let you disappear
again. No, no. I shall cot let you out of
my sight again. Do you know that I have
a house waiting for you, Maisrie?"
"For me?" she said, looking up sur
prised. "For whom else, do you Imagine? And
rather pretty the rooms are, I think. I
have got a stand for your music, Maisrie;
that will be handier for vou than putting it
on the table before you."
She shook her head, sadly.
"My place is with my grandfather, Vin
cent," she said. "And now I will go and
see how he is. He wished to know as soon
as possible of your arrival."
She left the room and was absent only for
a couple of minutes.
"Yes; will you come upstairs, Vincent?"
she said on her return. "I'm afraid you
will find him much changed. And some
times be wanders a little in his talking; you
must try to keep him as quiet as may be."
As thev entered the room an elderly
Scotch woman most probably the landlady
who had been sitting there, rose and came
ont. Vincent went forward. Despite
Maisrie's warning he was startled to notice
the ravages the lever had wrought; but it
the proud and fine features were pinched
and worn, the eyes were singularly bright
bright and furtive at the same time. And
at sight of his visitor, old George .Bethune
made a desperate eiiort to assume bis usual
gallant air.
"Ha7" said he though his labored
breathing made this affectation of gaiety a
somewhat pitiable thing "the young Leg
islator fresh from the Senate the listen
ing Senate, the applause of multitudes "
He turned bis restless eyes on Maisrie;
and said in quite an altered tone
"Go away, girl, go away!"
Well, Maine's nerves" were all unstrung
by anxiety and watchinir: .and here was her
lover just arrived, to listen to her being so
cruelly ana snarply rebuked; and so, alter
a moment of indecision, shs lost her self
control, sbe flung herself on her knees bv
the bide of the bed, and burst out crying.
"Don't speak to me like that, grand
father," she sobbed, "don't speak to me like
that!"
"Well, well, well." said he. in a differ
ent fashion, "I did nut mean to hurt you.
.No, no, Maisrie; you're a good lass a good
lass none better in the whole kingdom of
Scotland. I was not thinking I beg your
pardon, my dear I beg your pardon.'-1
She rose, and kissed his hand, and left the
room. Then old George Bethune turned to
his visitor, and began to talk to him in a
curiously rapid way rapid and discon
nected and confused while the brilliant
eyes were all the time fixed anxiously on
the young mac.
"Yes, I am glad vou have come I have
been sorely perplexed," he said, in bis
husky and hurried fashion; "perhaps,
when one is ill, confidence in one's own
judgment gives way a little and it is not
every one whom vou can consult But tbat
is not the main thing cot the main thing
at all a question of money is a minor thing
but yesterday I tbiuk it was yesterday
my voice seemed to be going from me and
I thought I would leave vou a message.
The book there bring it 'J
He looked toward a red volume that was
lying on the window-sill. Vincent went
and fetched it; though even as he did so, he
thought it strange that a man who was per
haps lying on his deathbed should bother
about a book of ballads. But when, he
might have asked himself, had George
Bethune ever seemed to realize the relative
importance of the things around him? To
him a harebell brought from the Braes of
Glcuiffer was of more "value than a king's
crown.
"Open at the mars;," said the sick -man,
eagerly. "See if you understand without
much taid to her, I mean poor lass poor
lass I caught her crying once or twice
while we were away and I have been ask
ing myself whether whether it was all
done for the best" Then he seemed to pull
himself together a little. "Yes, yes, it was
done for the best what appeared best for
everyone; but now well, now it may be
judged differently I am not what I was I
hope I have done no wrong."
Vincent turned to the marked page; and
there he found a verse of one of the ballads
penciled round, with the last lice under
scored. This is what he read:
He turned his face unto the wa,'.
And death was with him dealing;
Adieu, adieu, my dear friends, a'
Be kind to Barbara AllenI
The old man was watching him anxiously
and intently.
"Yes, I understand," Vincent said.
"And I think you may depend on me."
"Then there is another thing," tbe old
mac continued his mind leaping from one
point to another with marvelous quickness,
though he himself seemed so languid and
frail. "I I wish to have all thiogs left in
order. If the summons comes I must be
able to meet it with head up fear never pos
sessed me during life. But who has cot made
mistakes who has not made mistakes?
ot understood at the time. And yet per
haps it was not a mistake I am not the
niac I was I have doubt? I thought I was
doing well by all but now I am uneasy
questions come to me in the night-time
and I have not my old strength I cannot
cast them behind me as iu better days."
He glanced toward the door.
"Keep Maisiie out," said he. "Poor lass
poor lass I thought I was doing well for
her but when I found her crying Take
care she does cot come back for a minute or
"She won't come until you send lor her,"
Vincent interposed.
"Then I must make haste audyou must
listen. The money that I was persuaded
to take from your family that must be paid
back to the last farthing; and it will not
be difficult oh, no, not difficult not much
of it has been used Bevan and Morris will
tell you Bevan and Morris, Fall Mall,
Loudon. And indeed I meant to do what I
promised when I went away but when I
got ill I could cot bear the idea of being
buried out of Scotland I was like the Swiss
soldier in the trenches who heard the
Alphorn something arose in my breast
aud M&isrie, she was always a biddable
lass she was just as willing to come away.
But the money well, is there one who
knows me who does cot know bow I have
scorned tbat tbat delight of the ignoble
and base-born? and yet this is different
this must be paid back for Maisrie's sake
every farthing to your family. She must
be no beggar in their eyes. And you
must cot tell her anything. I trust you if
I can trust you to take care ot her lean
trust you in smaller thincrs so take a
pencil now quick when I. remember it
and write down ills address
Daniel Thompson "
"Of Toronto?" said Vincent. "I know
him."
At this moment George Bethune turned
his head a little on one side, and wearily
closed his eves. Vincent, assuming that he
now wished for rest, that perhaps be might
even have sunk into sleep, which was tbe
all-important thing for him, thought it
an opportune moment to retire, rihd on tip
toe made for the door. But even tbat noise
less movement was sufficient to arouse those
abnormally sensitive faculties, those restless
eyes held him again.
"No no do not go," the old man said, in
the same half-incoherent, eager fashion. "I
must have all put in order Daniel Thomp
son banker Toronto he will make all
that straight with your family. For Mais
rie's sake, and more than that he would do
for her, and be proud and glad to do it, too.
He will be her friend and you well, I
leave her to vou you must provide a house
for her."
"It is ready," said Vincent
"She will make a good wife she will
stand firm by the man she marries she has
courage and a loyal heart Perhaps per
haps I should have seen to it before per
haps you should have had your way at
Brighton aud she well, she was so willing
to co that deceived me. And there must
be laughing now for her it is natural for a
young lass to be glad and merry not any
more weeping she is in her own land.
Why," said he, and his eyes burned still
more brightly, and his speech became more
inconsecutive, though always hurried and
panting. "I remember a "story a story
.-T2
k&
Iffft mw ifl i Vi
WitlW 0&rL- Jir tags
.Rtfi tririu s&'vzzz5- rr
HAVE YOU ANY BETTER NEWS, MAISRIE i
that a servant lass used to tell me when I
was a child I used to go into the kitchen
when she was ironing the clothes it was a
story about a fine young man called Eagle
he bad been carried away to an eagle's nest
when he was an infant and his sweetheart
was called g 1. Well, I do not remem
ber all tbs adventures I have been think-,
ing sometimes tbat they must have been of
Eastern origin Eastern origin yei the
baker who tried to burn him in an oven
the Arabian Nights but n. matter at tbe
end he found his sweetheart and there was
a splendid wedding. And just as they
were married, a white dove flew right down
the middle of the church, and railed aloud
'Kurroo, kurroo; Eagle has got his Angel
now!' I used to imagine I could see them at
the altar aud the white dove flying down
the church "
"Don't you think you should try to get a
little rest now?" Vincent said, persuasively.
You have arranged everything all is put
in order. But what we want is for you to
get rest and quiet, until this illness leaves
you, and you grow strong and well again."
"Yes, yes" said the "old man, quickly,
"that is quite right that is so for I must
pay off Thompson, you know, I must pay
off Thompson. Thompson is a good fellow
and in honest Scot but ho used to talk a
little. Let him do this for Maisrie's sake
alterwcrd afterward when I am well and
strong agaip I will square up accounts with
him. Oh, yes, very easily." he continued;
and now he began to whisper In a mysterious
manner. "Listen, cow I have a little
scheme in mind not a word to anybody
there might be some one quick to snatch it
up. It is a volume I have in mind a vol
ume on the living poets of Scotland think
oi that, now a splendid subject, surely!
the voice of the people everyday sor
rows aud joys the minstrelsy of a
whole race. There was the American
book but something went wrong I did
cot blame anyone and I was glad it was
published Carmichael let me review it
yes, yes, there may be a chance for me yet
I may do something yet for auld Scot
land's sake! I have been looking into tbe
domus exilis Plutonia the doors have been
wids open but still there may be a chance
there is some fire still burning within.
But my memory is not what it was," he
went on, in a contused, perplexed way. "I
once had a good memory an excellent
memory but now things escape me. Yes
terday I think it was yesterday I could
not tell whether Bob Tennant was still with
us and his verses to AUander Water have
all gone from me all but a phrase 'How
sweet to roam by Allander' 'How sweet
to roam by AUander' no, my head
is not so clear as it ought to be "
"No, of course not," said Vincent, in a
soothing sort of way. "How could you ex
pect it, with this illness? But these things
will all come back. And I'm going to help
you as much as I can. When I was in New
York I heard your friend, Hugh Anstruther,
deliver a speech about those living 8cotcn
poets, and he seemed to be well acquainted
with them; I will write to him for any in
formation you may want So now now
tbat is all settled; and I would try to rest
for a while, if I were you: that is the main
thing the immediate thing."
But the old man went on without heeding
him, muttering to himself, as it were:
"Chamber's Journal perhaps as far back
as 30 years since there's one verse has rung
in my ears all this time but the rest is all
blank and the came of the writer forgot
ten, if it ever was published "Tis
by Westray that she wanders 'Tis by
Westray that she strays O waft me,
Heavens, to Westray in the spring
ot the young days!' " No, no it can
not be Westray Westray is too far north
Westray? Yet it sounds right ' 'Tis
by Westray that she wanders 'Tis by
Westray that she strays "
There was a tap at tbe door, and the doc
tor appeared; a little, old, white-haired
man, of sharp and punctilious demeanor.
Behind him was the landlady, hanging
back a little as if it were for further in
structions; so, she being there to help,
Vincent thought he would go downstairs
and seek out Maisrie. H e found her in the
little parlor awaiting him.
"What do you think, Vincent 1" she said,
quickly.
"I haven't spoken to the doctor yet." he
made answer, "Of course, everyone can
see that your grandfather is very ill; but If
courage will serve, who could have a better
chance ? And I will tell you this, Maisrie,
he is likely to have more peace of mind
THE P2TTSBUKG DISPATCH,
now. He has been vexing himself about
many things, as you guessed; and although
he was wandering a good deal while I was
with him perhaps all the time I could not
quite make sure still, it is wonderful how
hf ha, arirned thesft matters out and bow
clearly you can follow his meaning. It
was about von and your future he was most
troubled in the event of anything happen
ing to him; and he has not been afraid to
look all possibilities in the face; he told mo
the doors of the domus exilis Plutonia had
stood wide open before him, and I know he
was not the one to be alarmed, or himself.
But about you, Maisrie; do you know that
he has given you over to me if the worst
comes to the worst? He asked me to pro
vide a home for jou. I told him it was
already there awaiting. You see I have
not forgotton what you said to me at Brigh
ton; nod I knew that some day you and I
should find ourselves, as we now fiod our
selves, face to face perhaps in sad circum
stances, but all the more dependent on each
other "
"Do you think he is so very ill, Vin
cent?" she said; she seemed to have no
thought for" herself only for her grand
father. "You must see he is very ill, Maisrie
very," he answered her. "But, as I say, if
splendid courage will serve, then you may
hope for the best And he ought to be
quieter in mind now. We will hear what
the doctor has to say "
But at this moment there was an unwonted
sound without in the still little village
the sound of carriage wheels on the stony
street, and presently some vehicle, itself
unseen, was heard to stop in front of the inn.
In another second or so a servant girl opened
the door of the parlor and timidly said to
Maisrie:
"Miss Bethune, Miss."
"Miss Bethune?" Maisrie repeated, won
dering. j "From the castle, Miss," the girl said iu
awe-stricken tones.
And ifwas curious that at such a crisis
Maisrie's eyes should turn instinctively to
Vincent as it to appeal for advice. Of
course, his decision was taken on the in
stant "Ask Miss Bethune to step this way,
then," he said to the girl.
Sfaisrie rose pale a little, but absolutely
sel'-posscssed. She did not know who this1
might be an enemy, an emissary, perh.ps
the bearer of grave and harassing tidings
for her grandfather; for she had grown to
fear Balloray, and all its associations and
belongings. As it turned out she had not
much to fear from this emissary. There
came into tho room a tall and elegant lady
of about 30, not very pretty, but very gentle-looking,
with kind gray eyes. For a
brief second she seemed embarrassed on
finding a third person present; but that
passed directly; she went up to Maisrie,
and took her hand andheld it, and said, in
a voice so .sweet aud winning that it went
straight to' the heart
"Dr. Lenuie has told me of your trouble.
I'm very, very sorry. Will you let me help
you in anyway that is possible? May I
send to Edinburgh for a trained nurse to give
you assistance; and in the meantime, if you
wished it, I could send along my maid to
do anything you wanted "
Maisrie pressed her to be seateJ, and
tried, in rather uncertain accents, to thank
her lor her exceeding kindness. For this
stranger, with the greatest tact, made co
apology for her intrusion; it was no case of
the castle coming to the cottage, with acta
of officious benevolence; it was simply one
woman appealing to another to be allowed
to help her in dire straits. Whether she
knew that the old man upstairs claimed to
be the rightful owner of Balloray, whether
she knew that the beautiful, pensive-eyed
giri who was speaking to her had indirectly
suff-red throutrh that legal decision of gen
erations ago, Vincent could not at the mo
ment guess; what was obvious was merely
this womanly act of sympathy and charity,
for which Maisrie Bethune showed herself
abundantly grateful. When the doctor
came down, the visitor with the friendly
eyes and the soft voice explained that, just
in case the patient should need brandy
to keep up his strength, sbe had
taken the liberty of hringititr some
with her of good quality; the
resources pf the Balloray Arms
beiug limited in that respect. As she said
this she hesitatingly blushed a little; and
Vincent thought she looked really beauti
ful. He recalled to himself his aunt, Lady
Musselburgh: and wondered whether she,
with all her fine presence and elegant eyes,
could look as nobly beautitul as this poor
woman, who was rather plain.
The doctor's report was on the whole en
couraging; the temperature ot the patient
was the least thing lower, aud he was more
equable in mind.
"He appears to have been greatly pleased
by your visit, sir," the little doctor said, in
a strong east-country accent to the young
man. "Very pleased, indeed. And it is
just wonderful how he can reason and ex
plain; though I'm not so sure he'll be able
to remember all he's been saying. But
now, he tells me, all his dispositions are
made, he is coutent; there is nothing more
on his mind except, as I gather, about
some book."
"I know all about that," said Maisrie.
"I can pacify bini about that; aud I'm go
ing up stairs directly."
- Of course she had to wait and see Miss
Bethune and the doctor leave; then she
turned to Vincent
"Will you go out for a walk, Vincent? I
have asked Mri MacGill to let you have
some dinner at seven."
"Oh,don't you bother about me, Maisriel"
be said. "Can't I be of any use to you up
stairs?" "Not unless grandfather asks for you
again then I will send for you," she an
swered. "And to-night," said he, "to-night you
must have some rest I bear you were up
all last night that will never do."
"He is quieter when he knows I am in
the room," the said, simply.
She was going away when he interrupted
her lor a moment
"I will come up whenever you send for
me," he said, and then he added; "But
but you know him so ranch better than I
do, Maisrie. Do you think; we should tell
him of Miss Bethune having been here?"
"Oh, no, uo,Vincentl"ghesald, in earnest
remonstrance. "Nothing would excite him.
more terribly. Yon know he. has Already
been talking of soma message coming from
2
SUNDAY, DECEMBER
Balloray to me of. the possibility of it
and this would set his brain working in a
hundred different directions. He might
think they were qpmicg to lake me away
from him perhaps to do me some harm
or be might imagine that I had humbled
myselt before them, to make friends with
them, and that would trouble him more than
anything else; you cannot tell what wild
fancies might not get into bis head. So
there must not be a word said about Miss
Bethune, Vincent"
"Of course vou know best, Maisrie," said
he. And still he did not let her go. What
was he to say next to detain her? It was so
long since he had heard her voicel "When
you go upstairs, Maisrie, I wish you would
look at the book of ballads that is lying on
the table. There are some lines marked
you will see a bit of paper to tell you the
page. Do you know what that means?
Your grandfather thought that he might not
have strength enough left to speak to me
wnen x came; and so this was to oe a message
tome, isn't it strange that in the face of so
serious an illness he should be thinking
about a ballad; but you know better than
anyone tbat ballads are as real to your
grandfather as tbe actual thingsaround him.
And I want you to look at that message. I
have told your grandfather that he may de
pend on me."
She went upstairs; he passed out into tbe
golden glow of tbe afternoon. He seemed
to see au open grave there, and a small knot
of people, himself the chief mourner.
And then, after the simple and solemn
ceremony, he saw himself leave the sad
inclosure and go away back through the un
lovely street, rather fearing what lay before
him. For how was be to attempt to console
the solitarv girl awaiting there in her
despair and her tears?
As he walked slowly and aimlessly back
to the inn, he began to think he had been a
little too hard on those relatives of his.
Death, or even the menace of death, was a
solvent of many things: it made all antago
nisms, animosities, indignation appear so
trivial and unworthy. He could not but re
vtmber that it was cot through any selfish
ness those relatives of his had acted (unless
some small trace of family ambition were a
minor motive); what they had done, they
had done, as they imagined, to serve him;
there might have been errors of judgment,
but no ill will on their part And now, in
this terrible crisis, it be were to write to
Lady Musselburgh write in all con
ciliation and kindness and tell her
how Maisrie Bethune was situated,
would she not allow her heart to answer?
Shewas a woman: she professed to be a
Christian. And if the worst befell, or even
tho worst were threatened, surely she would
come at once to Scotland, and make what
little amends were cow within her power.
He would write his aunt 3 long and urgent
letter appealing to her own better nature
and asking to be allowed to summon her.
by telegram, if thero were need. He would
even humble aud abase himself for Mais
rie's sake.
But when he got back to the inn he found
that all these somber prognostigations were,
happily, not immediately called for. On
the contrary, Maisrie came running down
to say that her grandfather had been asleep,
or apparently asleep, and tbat, when be
woke up, he seemed much refreshed, with
his memory grown infinitely clearer. He
was especially proud that be could remem
ber the verses about Allander Water. He
wanted Vincent to go up to him at once.
"And you must please him, Vincent," she
said, breathlessly, "by promising to. do
everything to help him with the book.
Promise whatever be wishes, but be sure
you don't mention that Miss Bethune was
here don't say a word about that or any
thing about Balloray."
(To be concluded next Sunday.)
MEW STOKX" BT JOAQUIN MILLEK,
THE DISPATCH has secured for publica
tion in its Sunday Issue A NEW STORY
from the pen of the ever popular JOAQUTN
MUXER. The first installment will be pub
lished JANTJAKY 4, and the story will be
concluded iu four weeks. A perusal of the
manuscript Justifies THE DISPATCH In an
nouncing; that this story is one of the best, if
not the best, Mr. Miller ever produced. The
title is "THE CITY TN THE DESERT." It
somewhat-resembles "Looking Backward,"
by Edward Bellamy, and stUl Is very dlfler
ent, thoroughly original and peculiar to the
"Poet of the Sierras." It relates to an Ideal
city in Mexico, and cannot fall to entertain as
well as suggest some new ideas worthy of
consideration by students of the social prob
lem. Yon cannot afford to miss this story.
It will make a stir In tbe world.
FEOH CENTSAL AHEBICA.
A Man From a .Region Where Noise is an
Ordinary Thing,
Chicago Tribune.
Young Mills, clerk at the Sherman:
There was a man registered 'here the other
day from Central America I have forgotten
the came of tbe town. I had him sent up to
a good room. During the night there was
some disturbance in the hallway which was
unavoidable. Later there was a racket on
the outside, in the street, which was enough
to awaken the dead. It was one of those
eights that Mr. Hamlet spoke of, when
church yards yawned and bell itself breathed
forth contagion to the world. Didn't know
T could do it, did you? Every good hotel
clerk must be up in Shakespeare these
days. Next morning the Central American
came down and I apologized to him for the
unseemly noise of our city and told him it
was not usual, and that I hoped he had not
been disturbed. He said he had heard
nothing, and asked me to tell him what oc
curred. I gave him a list of the accidents
as well as I could recall them.
He said again that he hadn't heard any
thing. "I am from Central America, you
know," he said, "and we have earthquakes
down there for breakfast, dinner and sup
per. A man from Centr.il America is never
annoyed at anything that occurs out of his
own country. I rcuiemhcr," he said, "when
I was in "Denver one Fourth of July. A
cannon burst under my window, and the
manager apologized for it. I told him I was
clad to hear the noise. It had kept me from
becoming homesick. Now, if you have
anything in Chicago in the shape of a
hurrah tbat you can turn on trot it out, for
I am getting "all-fired lonesome," he said.
The next morning I had one of the boys
take an old gong up to his room and turn
in the clapper. The transom was raised
slowly, and a voice from the other side was
heard' saying: "Thanks; that's something
like It,"
A BEMABKABIE POEM.
The Most Frequently Used letter Is Omitted
Altogether.
Chicago Tribune.
The following poem of three stanzas of
four lines each has often been alluded to as
one of the most unique of literary curiosities.
Each stanza contains every letter in the
alphabet, except the letter "e," which all
printers will tell you is one of the most in
dispensable of the letters, its relative pro
portion of use being 120 times to j 4, k 8, g
17, and 1 40. The one coming next to "e"
in number of times of use is "a," which is
used 80 times while the letter in question is
being used 120 times. The poem which has
caused the above digression is entitled:
TIJE FATE OP NASSAU,
Bold Nassau quits his caravan,
A bazy mountain grot to scan;
Climbs Jaggy rocks to spy his way
Doth tax his sight but far doth stray.
Not work of man nor sport ot child.
Finds Nassau in that mazy wild;
Lax grows his Joints, limbs toll in vain
Poor wight Wbydidst thou quit that plaint
Vainly for succor Nassau calls,
Known Zillah that thy Nassau falls;
But prowling wolf and fox may joy
To quarry on thy Arab b..y.-
Buffalo Bill a Quaker.
Harrliburg Independent.
Buffalo Bill's parents wera Cheater county
Quakers, but he bai no faith in tbe Quaker
policy of managing the Indians,
21, 1890.
ROCKS THAT CHATTER
One of Lillian Spencer's Discoveries
on Her European Tramp.
CAVERS THAT SUGGEST GHOSTS.
Belgium Is the Best Place to Walk Off a
Case of Dyspepsia.
A BAD.KIGHT IN A BAIMYAI STATION
ico&Kxsroxnzircx or tux DisrATcai
Nasitjb, Dec. 1. There is no case of
dyspepsia under heaven that can withstand
a walk through Europe at a rate of 15 miles
a day.
Try it and seel
The best month to start out on such a tour
is August Pittsburgers would do well to
take a vessel at Philadelphia. It is nearer
than New York and tbe rate of passage
cheaper. Very good accommodations can
be had on almost any of the lines for 50.
It takes 10 or 11 days to make the voyage,
it is true, but the rest and the sea is what
the dyspeptic most requires. It builds up
his system and fortifies him for "the walk to
follow. I do not believe one could find a
more beautiful country for a pedestrian tour
than Belgium. The climate is perfect
mild, clear, fresh, invigorating. The roads
are like white marble; the trees lend
a shady shelter and the peasants
are universally kind and polite.
After the first week or so one loses all
sense of fatigue. The stiffness of the joints
seem to relax, and the machinery of the
body once in working order, there are no
hitches. It is very important in walking to
fix the mind on some interesting or agree
able subject Never for a single moment let
it dwell on the length of the road or the
number of kilometers marked on the mile
posts. If yon imagine you are tired, you
are tired. If you decide that you can't go
any further you can't
OCCUPYING THE MIND.
The best way is to plot out a novel, or
play, or compose a poem. Conversation is
apt to become an effort and prove wearisome.
A hundred subjects will suggest themselves
as you stroll along. You have only to turn
to the right to see the towers of an old castle
crowning a distant hill, a castle, grim and
dark and forbidding, with draw-bridge and
embattled towers and moss-grown turrets.
And when you consult your guide-book you
learn that it was formerly the dwelling
place of a fierce and blood-thirsty baron,
who sacked all the neighboring towns and
loaded the prisoners with chains, and not
being able to put them to death fast enough
dropped them over the rocks and hung them
by the feet out ot the narrow stone windows.
What more easy than to give this monster
a fair and charming daughter, whose gentle
heart bled with anguish at her dread
father's crimes! And why cot put in a
gallant lover, a sort of plumed knight, with
clanking sword and coat of mail, and noble
pslfry and a dwarf, a hideous hunchback
who inhabits the caverns ot the gigantic
rocks hanging overhead. And, touching
those self same rocks, let me say, they are
no laughing matter. I don't believe in
ghosts, except when I am attending one of
Mrs. Bliss' seances, and then it would be
bad form to doubt that tbe shadowy figures,
dancing minuets and singing Academy of
Music lullabys, are cot creatures irom
another part of the State; but these rocks,
which stretch for a quarter of a mile along
the road from Namur to Dave, on the way
to Dinant, the Saratoga of Belgium, are
very curious rocks to say the least
THE KOCKS THAT TALK.
They don't behave themselves ai well
ordered, hoary-headed old rocks should.
They lack dignity; they are too noisy, too
communicative. They hate to hear them
selves talk. Yes, talk. Those rocks talk.
More, they chatter. Magpies are mutes in
comparison. You saunter along the banks
of loveliest of all lovely rivers, the Meuse
spanned here and thereby rude stone bridges
and reflecting every leal and tree and hill.
You saunter along, marveling at the won
drous coloring of the foliage shading from
green to gold, the misty purple ot the dis
tant mountains fading away into the pearl
of the clouds, and suddenly, unexpectedly,
you are confronted with a buge barrier of
crags, banked up against the very sky.
And lost iu the wonder of the colossal
pile,-you stop abruptly and then a feeling of
awe creeps over you and your pulses
quicken. No human habitation is in sight
The place is isolated, solitary, only the forest
and the mountains and the river are about,
and yet at first you think it is a trick of
fancy or of tbe imagination or tbe hearing,
but by and by it dawns upon you that it is
not and that you are really listening to the
voices of a great multitude of people. But
where is the multitude? "Where are the
people? You look anxiously, expectantly
about you. No one is near. The silence is
wide deep. Then you realize that the
voices come from the rocks the depths, the
inmost depths of the rocks.
NO DOUBT BEMAINS.
Are they tbe voices of human beings?
Apparently. They sound loud and shrill.
It is impossible to catch the meaning of
what they are saying, but it is out of tbe
question to doubt that they are there. Are
they underground folk or elves or pigmies
or giants or
"Let's get away," says Mini!, shivering.
"Nonseuse, lets investigate," and I
plunge into my Baedeker. He does not
mention the phenomenon.
"Baedeker never missed a point in his
life," whispers Minnie, turning as pale as
the sunburn on her face will permit "If
the voices were ever heard before, he would
have heard them. Do let's get away."
And we get away as fast as we can, to
ward Dave, a picturesque little hamlet
nestling among tbe hills and havincr a jolly
good time nil to itself, but calling out to
strangers: "No admittance," and meaning
just what it says. Inhospitable, unprofit
able Dave.. "We were fagged out when we
walked in under the stone archway of your
gates, and we would have been so grateful
to have rested iu the shade of your green
banks sloping to the river's edge and losing
themselves beneath the sparsling ripples.
But you would not have it No, even at 3
francs apiece. Perhaps, if you had known
we were going to roast you in the news
papers, you tiould have thought better of
the matter. Ob, yes, of course you had co
use for transients. We knew that Bnt we
wanted to stay, and we couldn't And
women are perverse. They never cease to
regret that which is denied them.
A NIGHT IN A STATION.
I have slept in hard beds before cow and
have put up in some queer hotels in Texas,
On o'ne occasion I passed a night in a
caboose, but that I should ever come down
to sleeping in a railway station passes belief.
"We know what we are, but we know not
what we may come to." That's true. We
don't A Belgium railway station in the
Provinces is somewhat like the railway sta
tions in the remote Southern towns in Amer
ica, where the train comes along once a day
and waits an hour or so tor tbe convenience
of those passengers who have overslept
themselves It differs, however, in one re
spect it is locked nt sundown, and nothing
less than a substantial bribe to the depart
ing guard, who goes to bed with the chick
ens, will induce him to open it and look yon
in. I burn alive iu case of a fire, or drown
like a rat in the event of a flood.
Once inside the prospect is dreary
enough. Hard-wooded benches, partitioned
off so as to prevent all possibility of lying
down, are ranged round the wall; a tumble
down stove blocks up one corner, a table
another, aud Micii and I a third, crouched
down there on a bench. "We shiver and
shake, and wonder what ever induced us to
go so far away from home. Sitting up all
night in a rocking chair is not restful. In
a railway station it is something that one
roust experience to realize. Nothing hap
pened to relieve the monotony of the dreary
night We would have welcomed a ghost
But ghosts have better sense and taste than
to waste their tlms 'haunting matter of fact
railway stations. So we sat there like
mummies until morning.
FBEKDOJI AND A BBEAKFAST.
At daybreak the considerate guard re
leased us from our prison and glauaenea
our hungry eyes with some sandwiches
made ot brown bread and cheese. The latter
was decidedly past its first voutb, but we
were not hyper-critical, and Tho quality of
our viands did not concern us nearly so
much as the quantity.
A day's walk brings us to Vinant Vinant
is a sort of Brighton, Newport or Saratoga-.
Tbe elite of Belgium spend August there.
It stands on the top of a rock, which shoots
up like a rocket to the sky. Beneath rolls
the Meuse beyond logins the forest of tbe
Ardennes.
One looks up, up, up, and imperils one's
neck to see the fortress which crowns the
colossal crag. Tbe steep streets are thronged
with visitors. Gay ribbons flutter like but
terflies on tbe breeze. Silken-clad women
and brown-legged peasant girls from the
hills jostle against one another. Soldiers
loiter in groups at tbe corners. Soft strains
of musio fill the air. The chimes of tbe
Cathedral toll an anthem, the river moans
as itbreats against the quays of the bridge.
All is bustle, life, movement In the hotels
the table d'hote is in fuil blast French,
Swiss, Russians, Belgians, people of all
ranks and conditions, converse in free and
easy fashion together. We take our places
and try to look as if we always dine'at the
table d'hote ot the best hotel, which we
don't, and there, directly opposite, I see my
old friend, tbe Due de Dnrcal, smiling and
bowing, but evidently greatly confused at
the renconter. This is n French word, but
I can't think of tbe English synonym.
ONE RESULT OP THE TRIP.
By the time I reach Pittsburg, I shan't be
able to talk United States at all. It isn't
the proper thing to come home without a new
accent Cockney English is most in vogue
here, but I'm going further than cockney
English. I'm going to bring back a new
lingo entirely. A sort of mongrel French
mixed with Walton Flemish and spiced
with Dutcb.
Well.as I was saying, there was the Duke.
He looked older than when we crossed the
ocean on the steamer last year. Older and
less confident. At tbat tune he was on his
way to New York to dispose of the portraits
ot his illustrious family and incidentally to
capture an American heiress. That he failed
in both ventures goes without saying. The
heiresses could not reconcile themselves to
his ugly personality (though he may be a
king some day), and" the American picture
dealers and collectors had too much Yankee
shrewdness to saddle themselves with his
mouldy ancestors. I knew this, and he knew
I knew it Hence he was not glad to see me.
"Vinant is a delightful place to stay if you
have plenty of money. It' you have not, you
want to make your exit as gracefully and as
expeditiously as possible. We did after a
stay ot 24 hours. And even then we were a
good deal richer in experience than we were
in pocket. Lillian Spencer.
A FAMOUS FIGHTING H0BSZ
He Assisted His KIder in Getting the Better
of the Enemy.
Representative E. P. Allen, of Michigan,
in sneaking of horses, says in the St Louis
Globe-Democrat: "There are horses and
'hosses,' but the greatest horse I ever knew
was tbe black stallion ridden by Sergeant
Muchler, of the Third Pennsylvania Cav
alry, in Sheridan's valley campaign. I never
could find out how this horse got into the
army. He was a magnificent specimen of
horseflesh, and pretty nearly thoroughbred.
One day along m'the late fall of 1864 the
enemy was met near Front Royal, "Va., and
then there was charging and counter-charging.
Tbe black stallion, with a courage
that was magnificent, would carry his rider
far into the enemy's lines, and while his
rider was slashing away with bis saber right
and left the stallion would lash out with his
heels at every opportunity at the steed rid
den by his opponent, and rear and strike and
bite as savagely at him as if he was possessed
of the very devil. Muchler was teaching
him tricks all the time, and finally, after
considerable practice, he got him so he would
pursue another cavalryman, catch him by
his blonse at the back of tbe neck and pull
him from his horse.
"Along in the winter of 1864 Sheridan
sent Custer after Bosser, near Strasbnrg,
and tbere was in a short time the prettiest
horse race up the valley that you ever saw.
Custer's men soon caught up with Bosser,
and then they had it hammer and tongs.
The black stallion, as usual, outran every
thing in the chase, and, singling out a vic
tim, went for him with savage fury. Then,
swinging the reb clear out of his saddle,
carried him in his teeth several feet and
held him until his rider got hold, of his
prisoner by the scruff of the neck and sent
him to the rear. On another occasion he
got so interested and excited in a fight up
the valley that be carried bis rider into the
enemy's lines, where both were captured. A
few days later, in a fight near Mount Jack
son, much to our amazement the black stal
lion was seen running away with a rebel
Captain on his back and before his rider
could control him he was safely within our
lines with his rider and thus made an even
exchange for his dereliction a few days pre
vious." &KLHLKT3 CAMPAIGN.
Congressman Mills Tells a Good Story of an
Ohio Funeral.
Washington Herald..!
Representative Mills tells a good story to
show how absorbing wa3 the interest in the
tariff in Major McKinley's district, during
tbe late campaign. It seems it is the cus
tom at funerals in that section of Ohio, for
the friends of the deceased to supplement
the remarks of the clergymen with such eu
logistic reminiscenses as they think proper.
At a funeral d uring the late campaign in
one of the small towns of McKinley's dis
trict, the clerzyman delivered tbe usual
highly complimentary oratiou on the many
virtues of the dear departed, who was not a
very prominent citizen, and in concluding
said tbat if there were any present who
wished to add their tribute they would be
listened to with mournful pleasure.
Then tbere was a pause for returns.bntnone
came. The silence remained unbroken ex
cept for the subdued sobbing of tbe mourn
ers and the heavy breathing of the entire
gathering. The pause became embarrass
ing after it bad continued for a couple of
momeuts, and the people began to fidget in
their seats, while those who had stood dur
ing the long oration of the minister, rested
themselves by changing their weight to the
other foot. At last there was a movement
in: the back seats and a man arose with a
depecatory expression on his face and a roll
of' manuscript in his hand, and everyone
breathed more freely. "Friends," he
said, after clearing his throat vigorously,
"as no one seems to wish to say anything
more on the merits of onr departed friend,
with your permission I will occupy the
time with a tew remarks on the tariff," and
he unrolled his manuscript and sailed in.
A C05SCIEHTI0US TRAM?.
He Admits His Crime and Apologizes by
Xetter.
yonngstown Vindicator.:
The following note left by a tramp was
found on the kitchen table by Mrs. Thomas
Jacobs, of Jefferson street, yesterday morn
ing. My dear good lady friend: I cama here a
stranger, and found nobody at home. I was
bnngryand took a piece of pie. I will return
some day and pay you for it Much obliged.
This is alii have got Keep them until I re
turn. A TBAJf P.
A deck of cards were left with tbe note.
The Patch Thrown In.
Adreitlseraent In Dexter Gazette.
Meigs & Co. are still selling those won
derful $2 pants with the 7x9 patch of the
same material thrown in. Everyone buying
them, and another case just is. "Wear like
Iron and will never need the extra piece,
but yon ean work the patch into your
quilt,
21
MAGIC OF CHEMISTRY.
Products of Nature's Laboratory Du
plicated by Science.
GOOD BREAD MADE OP SAWDUST.
Compounds Tbat Beat the Oils and Djes of
Vegetable 0nin.
PISE BOARDS TDESED TO STAECH
The wonders of synthetic chemistry were
cleverly portrayed last week by Dr. E. Q.
Eccles in a lecture before tbe Ethical As
sociation of Brooklyn, of which Prof. Hux
ley has just become a member. He traced
the development of chemistry from the days
when Aristotle taught that earth, air, fire
and water were the four elements, and that
chemical changes were changes of qualities
and not of matter, down through the days of
the alchemist struggles to transmute baser
metal into gold, through the discovery of
oxygen by Priestly, the beginning of quan
titative analysis by Black in 1735, the dis
covery of the atomic theory by Avogadro
down to the wonders of modern synthetic
chemistry which rivals Mother Nature her
self in tbe strange substances it turns out of
the laboratory.
The eighteenth century was the turning
point in the development of chemical
science, and thegreatnames of that progress
were Black, Priestly, Lavoisier, Sir
Humphrey Davy and Avogadro. Black,
when be was 21 years old, read an esar on
a discovery or his which he called "fixed
air," and which we know as carbonic acid
gas. He began to weigh tbe materials he
was dealing with, a thing which no chemist
had done before. Of tbe results of that
change, Dr. Eccles said:
FOLLOWING THE FIXED AIB.
"In the pivot of that pair of Scotch scales
we find the turning point between scholas
tic dogma and modern verification. The
first turn under that young man's control
let into the world most of the blessings and
comforts ot modern civilizition. His was
the first quantitive estimate ever known to
have been made upon our planet, the first
telling proof of the utter worthlessness of
mere abstract reasoning. He followed fixed
air into and out of maznesia, limestone and
the alkalies. He noted the changes caused
by its presence and absence, and saw that
these changes in no way agreed with cur
rent notions about the unions and vanquish
ments of qualities.
"Priestly discovered oxygen and Lavoisier
the true theory of combustion. The explan
ation oi combnstion came lice a bright sun
shine into the chemical world, and Dr. Ec
cles ranlted Priestly and Lavoisier among
the great benefactors ol the race. Yet Priestly
was driven to America for heterodox theol
ogy and Lavoisier was guillotined in tho
French devolution because be had the mis
fortune to be born rich. After speaking of
the making of aniline dyes from coal tar,
Dr. Eccles traced the growth of synthetic
chemistry since Anderson, a Scotchman, be
gan, about 40 vears ago, to study sludge oil,
and distilled 250 gallons of the sickening
stuff. Another Scotchman began where he
leit off and discovered pyndere, the basic
group of many alkaloids, and placed us on
tbe road to quinine, morphine, atrophina
and cocaine. '
OF INCALCULABLE VALUE.
The gain to the race of such work, he
said, is almost incalculable. A list of all
the valuable additions made within the past
SO years by synthetic chemistry would oc
cupy more time to read than could be given
in one lecture. Thousands of acres of land
were at one time occupied witb the growth
of madder and indigo. This land is nearly
all released now for grain and for other
crops, and these dye stuns are produced by
the chemistin his laboratory. Cocaine is
now built up from what might be waste prod
ucts in its extraction from extbroxylon coca.
Oil of wintergreen is no longer produced
from either wintergreen or sweet birch to the
extent tbat itonce was, butit is synthetically
prepared by tbe chemist Musk, bitter oil
of almonds, cumarine, used as a substitute
for vanilla; vanilline, saccharine, 230 times
Bweeter than sugar, are products of the
laboratory that beat those of unassisted
nature.
Antipynne, phenacetine, exalgine, aeetan
elid, and vesorcin are products of the labo
ratory that in many ways excel as curative
agents any products of the vegetable world.
The number of antiseptics is large and con
stantly being multiplied. One ot them,
called salol, can pass the stomach unchanged
and arrest iufliminatory processes below the
duodenum. Fluorescine has no rival in the
vegetable world, as ic alone is able to
stain diseased tissue in the eye and leave the
healthy tissue untouched.
CHE3II3XET AND ALUHINirar.
New processes have been devised for pro
ducing on a larger scale and at cheaper rates
soda, chloroform, salicylic acid, oxygen,
nickel aluminum, etc. The last named
metal is now marketed at a low price and wa
are told that a new process has been devised
by which it can be produced as cheaply as
iron. Another chemical discovery that is
destined to do great things for us is the stor
age battery, which Sir William Thompson is
said to have called tbe discovery of greatest
value to the race made in this generation.
Another discovery of the same sort is the
liquelaetion of the permanent gases, like air
and nitrogen at low temperatuies.
By a crude process long known sawdust
can be converted into an exceedingly coarse
article of bread, by tbe use of sulphuric
acid. The world may yet see pine boards
transmitted into the whitest kind of starch.
"We can and do now change starch into glu
cose. Let us next find how to make it into
broulose and then how to unite these two
and we will have cane sugar. The man
lucky enough to solve the problem has au
enormous fortune awaiting him. We can al
ready give cane sugar the flavor of maple
sugar. Among the problems that still await
solution is tbe synthetic production of India
rubber, cotton, silk and wool.
THE CHHT02T HTOJDSED3.
A Provision In England to Prevent Paxils
ment From Going to Pieces.
I find that very few people in this coun
try, says E. G. Chalmers, of London, in the
St Louis Globe-Democrat, understand the
way in which English members of Parlia
ment resign. Most people know that accept
ing the Chilton Hundreds is equivalent to
resigning, but not one in a thousand is
aware oi the reason for this roundabout
method or quitting Parliament According
to the English law a memberof Parliament
cannot resign, but he can become ineligible
by the acceptance of some other office under
Government.
Our legislators were of the opinion that
serions embarrassment might be occasioned
by the simultaneous resignation of a large
number of members of Parliament, and
took steps to prevent It The command of
the Chilton Hundreds, a nominal office, dis
qualifies a man from hold!? a seat in Par
liament, but only one man can hold this
office. When a member wishes to withdraw
he applies for the Chilton Hundreds, which
is granted as a matter of course He ceavs
to hold a seat, and the next day resigns his
new office. The effect is that only one man
a day can leave Parliament, and wholesale
resignation is prevented.
Mice Eat Money.
Etddeford Joarnal.
Joseph Peloquin, who lives upon Spring's
Island, had $40 In paper money in a cup in
a closet Saturday he bought a lot ot wood,
and when he took down his money to pay
for it he found that the mice bad nibbled
tbe greenbacks so tbat only about half of
any of tbe bills remained. Tbe rest of the
money was in scraps around the cupboard.
The numbers upon the bills were not de
strayed, howsvsr, and Peloquin will try as4
get the icrsps redeemed.
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