18
pet leave from Tour mamma to go out
Banks xrill take it for a word.
"But X no not want Banks to take it, nor
anvone to ee it but you," said Miriam,
quicklv. "Can't u make some excuse to
go out'wben dinner is going on?"
"Oh of course, Miss Miriam, I can. I
can sav I want some colored silk to match
Tour mamma's blue dress I am altering. Or
I might sav I kn e a cousin w ho is ill? But
then I'm afraid Mrs. Clyde would not be
lieve me, or might be frightened about me
bringing'in injection unless I said it was
aa accident," added Ford, with another
smile.
"I dare say she will not object to your
going to get the silk; so. Ford, if you'wlll
do this I will have the note for Dr. Reed
read v," when you come np before dinner."
"To' be sure, Miss Miriam, that will be all
right."
"And you have to tell no one I have sent
it," repeated Miriam.
"I v ill not tell a soul. Miss Miriam,"
affirmed Ford.
"I will write it now. then."
"And I will tell Mrs. Clyde that you
have lain down, as she desired me to see
that vou had the down quilt over you when
you did so," said the ready-tongued Ford.
'And row, miss, I'll leave you till it's
time to dress for dinner;" and Ford went
swav.
Then Miriam commenced her letter to
Dr. Keed with a troubled heart, choosing
her words with difficulty and'much caution,
but feeling all the while that she was com
mitting herself deeply in his eyes.
"Dear Dr. Keed," she wrote; "I am abont
to ask a favor from your hands, and also to
trust to your honor that this letter, and the
incident" which occurred between us this
afternoon will be spoken of to no one. Will
vou give the little note I inclose to the per
son from whom you brought the note to me?
And do not kindly answer this letter. I am
trusting yon, and I leel my trust will not be
betrayed. And with kind regards, I re
main, etc
"P. S. Perhaps from time to time yon
will kindly let me know how your poor
patient is ?"
Having finished her letter to Dr. Beed,
Miriam then wrote on a note sheet four
single words.
"Do not be afraid."
These she inclosed in a small envelope
without any address, and placed this inside
Dr. Heed's letter, and when Ford reap
peared she put it into her band.
"This is the letter. Ford," she said, and
Ford at once slipped it into a handy pocket
in her dress.
"It will be quite sale here, miss," the
said, smiling, "and I've got leave to go out
when you are at dinner, and the doctor will
lia e it in the morning. He is a very good
looking youn g gentleman."
Ford liazarded this last remark, as was
curious to know how far "Miss Miriam's
affair" with Dr. Beed had eone.
"Is he?" answered Miriam. "I don't
think I ever noticed he was."
This reply only convinced Ford that "Miss
Miriam was ery deep."
However she was quite right to be, after
ward reflected Ford; considering she was so
soon to be "My lady," it never would do for
it to be known she was "carrying on with a
doctor." Ford had rather an idea in her
sharp head, when Miriam married, of trans
ferrinc her services from Mrs. Clyde to Lady
MacKennon. There would be both more
dignity and profit in the latter situation,
Ford "considered, and then she personally
liked Miriam, and thought altogether lite
would be easier and pleasanter under her
rule.
Scarcelv were the family at dinner, there
fore, when Ford went out on her errand,
still carrying the letter for Dr. Beed in her
pocket, as she thought it safer there hidden
Irom sicht. She went straight to the post
ofncf, resisting the cajolements on the way
of one of her amorous orderlies who wjshed
to stop her.
"No, Johnson. I'm in a hurrv," she said,
but s-he smiled, and Johnsou felt his heart
burn within him. So she posted her letter,
and then strolled down the high street of
the little town, and looked into the shop
windows, couscious that Johnson was fol
lowing her. She liked to be followed and
she smiled again as she tripped into the
-lercer's shop to buy the silk to sew her
-ress gown with", and when she had got
whtCTshe wanted she found Johnson wait
ing for her at the shop door.
"Von here !" she said coquettishly, look
ing up with her blue eyes into the soldier's
lace.
"Ves, Miss Ford," lie answered. "I'm
here, and I'm very glad to have met ye
twice."
"Quite a lncky chance," smiled Ford,
with a marked, emphasis on the last word.
"So it is," grinned Johnson, "and it's a
pitv to lo-.e it, Mav I take a turn with ye,
Slits Ford?"
After some penuasion Ford consented.
She knew she had "Banks" saJe, as he was
waiting at dinner, and so she thought she
might as well amuse herself a short time
with the amorous Johnson. They had a
stroll along the sea banks, and Ford felt
both her complexion and her spirits were
improed by the walk. As for Johnson, he
was more deeply in love than ever, and felt,
he must do or say something desperate.
"I could shoot Banks or any other fellow
for your sake, Miss Ford," he said, snatch
ins hold ol her hand.
"Please do nothing of the kind," smiled
the wily Ford. "Banks, poor fellow, is a
very good creature, and verv obliging."
"He better not be too obliging to yon, or
I'll punch his head," answered Johnson.
And in this strain the two conversed
until Ford declared she must go home, and
Johnson said he should accompany her to
the Commandant's back door.
But Ford would not hear of this.
"You would not get me into trouble,
surely?" she said sweetly. "Mrs. Clyde
hates you gentlemen in red coats, and thinks
you're very dangerous company for me, and
mavbe she's right," she added, archly.
Upon which Johnson swore that she was
the dangerous one, and that she could wile
a poor man's heart out of his body, and
bring his soul into very hot water indeed, all
for her sake. And Ford listened well
pleased. She was essentially of that order
of womanhood who live on flattery, and
care very little for the provider when the
meal is over. Johnson was all very well,
but she had no more idea of having any
thing serious to say to him than of' flying
into the air. The man, on the contraryjwas
really ensnared by the maid's blue eyes,
and his feelings were stronger than Ford
had reckoned on, and Ford unconsciously
was playing with fire.
He, however, complied with her request,
and parted w ith her before they came in
sight of the Commandant's house. Johnson
squeezed her hand ardently, as he bade her
larewcll, and Ford smiled and showed her
white toeth, and then spent the rest of the
evening coquetting with Banks, when he
was released lrom his duties at the Colonel's
dinner table. But she found time also to
meet Miriam Clyde on the staircase, and
whispered a word in her eager ears.
''The letter is in the post, Mils Miriam,"
she said; "and he'll get it first thing in the
morning."
Thank you," answered Miriam briefly,
and passed on, for Mrs. Clyde was at no
great distance from them.
And Dr. Beed did get his letter by the
first delivery the next morning, and read it
with a smile.
"So," he thought, "this grand and haughty
young woman, whom no ono was good
enough almost to speak to, had her own lit
tle affair, and with a private soldier, tool
However. I am bound in honor to hold my
tongue, but I am rather sorry for Sir James
MacKennon," and again he smiled.
But he felt curious. He went to the hos-
E
ital before brraktast, and the first patient
e iisitcd was the wounded soldier Dare.
It was a beautiful morning in the late au
tumn, and the sun was glinting in golden
shalts through a laint haze, and one ot these
gleams fell on Dare's lace as he lay sleep
ing with his arms flung above his head. The
young doctor stood looking at him contem
platively. He was handsome, with regular
feature, and dark, marked brows and dark
mustache and hair. Altogether a some-
lxutv tvuiuiivaujg ak,c, mill ti IUII UUUCllif
and a firm jaw and rouuded chin. And
about him even in his sleep was that
leep
tells i
name
birth.
nameless expression which
of gentle
"Some poor devil who has come to grief I
suppose, reflected the doctor, who was
shrewd. But at this moment the sleeping
man stirred uneasily.
"Miriam, come away, come away," ha
muttered in the unnatural tones of slumber;
"lie is dead I saw his eyes staring Miriam
come away."
Evidently some scene of horror was pass
ing before his brain-, for he clenched his
hands and knit his dark brows, and his ex
pression changed. An orderly who had sat
up with him during-the night, and was now
watching him also, said in a low voice to
the doctor:
"He's rambled on like that, and talked
nonsense a good deal in the night, sir."
The doctor silently nodded his head,
and put his fingers on the sick man's wrist,
and at his touch Dare started and awoke.
"Well, my man, how are you feeling?"
asked the doctor.
For a moment Dare made no answer; he
seemed scarcely to understand, and then he
smiled faintly.
"I leel weak, sir," he said.
"That is to be expected," answered Dr.
Beed, and then he proceeded with his medi
cal examination, and presently sent the
orderly for something he wanted, and when
they were alone he once more spoke to
Dare.
"Well, I gave your note to the young
lady," he said; "and this morning I had a
letter from her.inclosing this note for you."
Dare eagerly put out his hand and
clutched the small note the doctor handed
to him.
"Thank you, sir, I do not know how to
thank you," he said, quickly.
"Don't mind me, read your note," smiled
the doctor; and having got this permission,
Dare nervously opened the envelope and
read the four simple words it contained with
eager eyes.
"Do not be afraid."
Dr. Beed had turned away hii head for a
moment, but he was curious and quick
sighted, and as he glanced once more at the
wounded man. whose grav eyes were still
fixed on the paper in his trembling hands, (
nrtttfii
THE DOCTOR ALSO BEAD THE "WORDS AND GREW MORE CURIOUS.
the doctor also read the words in the note
and grew more curious still.
"I suppose vou formarly knew the young
lad?" he said.
Dare visibly hesitated.
"Oh! come, I don't want to pry Into your
secrets," laughed the doctor; "bnt in her let
ter to me she asked me to let her know, how
you go on, so you see she has a strong inter
est in you."
Dare cast down his gray eyes with their
dark lashes, and his lips quivered.
"She is very good," ne said, "more than
good-" and then he suddenly looked up in
the doctor's face.
"Vou have been very good, doctor, also,"
he went on, "and and this I mav tell yon,
though I am sure yon will not speak of it
I once knew or rather saw, Miss Clyde
under circumstances that were greatly to
her honor." "
"I have no doubt of it, my man," smiled
the doctor, who quite understood that Dare
did not mean to confide in him; "and you
need not be afraid neither you nor the
voung lady need be afraid for I seldom,
indeed never, speak of what does not con
cern me; and now here comes the orderly
with the dressings, and I must have a look
at your leg."
CHAPTEP. IV.
FIXING THE DAY.
On -the alternoon of the same day Sir
James MacKennon arrived at the Com
mandant's house at Newborough-on-the-Sea,
and Banks at once ushered him Into
the drawing room, where Mrs. Clyde was,
for Banks had received orders when Sir
James came that she wished to speak to
him beiore Miss Clyde was told of his ar
rival. So Sir James strode into the room with
his stalwart step, and Mrs. Clyde smiled
her welcome.
"Very pleased to see yon," she said,
sweetly", holding out her well-formed hand;
"where will you sit?"
Sir James drew a chair near Mrs. Clyde's
easy one, and looked, it must be admitted,
rattier uncomfortable.
"It's about that little girl of mine, I
wished to speak to you,' ' she said still
smiling. She spoke of Miriam as "a little
girl" merely in a figurative sense, Miriam
being really tall and slim; "about Miriam
we were talking yesterday you remember
about fixing the time of your marriage, and
you said you would try to persuade Miriam
to fix it soon in a month I think, was it
not?"
"But I tried in vain," answered Sir
James with an ingenuous blush stealing
over his honest face. "Miriam said it was
too soon, and I could not get her to promise
to fix any time."
"My dear Sir James, Miriam is like other
girls, cov and shy not that all girls are to
be sure!" And Mrs. Clyde gave her
shoulders a little shrug, and raised her eye
brows. "But she is, aud my other girl,
General Conray's wife, was also. In fact, I
brought them up rather in an old-fashioned
school to be modest young Women, and
not forward ones and therefore you see
poor Miriam is so shy about fixing her
wedding day that I propose that we should
do it for her, and thus spare all her pretty
blushes."
"I need not say that I shall be too happy
that anytime ," eagerly blurted out
Sir James.
"I am sure of it, and I am sure also that
the little girl U ill be very glad to have it
all settled for her. Joan, my eldest daughter,
allowed me to settle her wedding day, ana
I know Miriam will too. Well, you th'ought
ota mouth? Shall we say a month to-day?"
"I shall be delighted, only too delighted,
if you can persuade Miriam."
"Leave Miriam to me," said Mrs. Clyde,
with her sweetest smile. "And have you
heard what a little heroine she came out
yesterday after you left her on the sands?"
"So; how was that?"
"Well, it seems a poor soldier was dan
gerously wounded when marking at a target,
and would have bled to death but lor
Miriam. She had some ambulance lessons
in the winter, and she turned them to good
account on this emergency. She stopped
the bleeding, and the doctor savs saved "the
poor man's liie; her father is very pleased."
"Dear little girl! how brave it was of
her," exclaimed Sir James, with emotion.
"It was brave, was it not? But the poor
child felt the reaction of the excitement
when it was over, and was not very welf
during the rest of the evening, and her
cheeks have lost some of their pretty pink
paint this morning, I can assure you. You
will have to bnug it back again, Sir
James."
Sir James blushed fnriously.
"In lact, we'll consider it settled then,"
continued Mrs. Clyde; "settled between
you and me, that to-day month has to be
yonr wedding day? Do not, however,
speak of it to Miriam to-day leave me to
arrange all about it with her, lor she was
THE
nervous and upset yesterday with this affair
on the sands, so we must keep her very
quiet to-day."
"I will sajr nothing to disturb her; but,
Mrs. Clvde, it must be as Miriam wishes
about the time, I mean. I would not, for
any selfish feelings of my own, have her
worried into anything she did not wish."
"My dear young man, you do not know
the feminine heart t Girls women like to
have a little pressure on such subjects from
their lovers and parents. In fact, the like
to be wooed and won, seemingly against
their wills all the time. I am sure Miriam
is greatly attaohed to you. She would not
have accepted your proposal if it had not
been so."
"JTou mako me very happy," said Sir
James, and again he blushed. "I care for
Miriam very much I never cared for any
one before and my greatest wish on earth
is to have her for my wife."
"Well, your greatest wish will soon be
accomplished then. Few men or women
marry their first love, and Miriam ought to
be proud, therefore, at .having won yours."
"I am proud, at .-Jny rate, to to be
loved by her. I always feel that I'am not
good enough for her. Still I will try "
"Don't spoil her; that is all I am afraid
of," said Mrs. Clyde, gracionsly, as Sir
James paused, and while she spoke she rose
to leave the room. "Now I will send her
to you," she added, "and I hope you will
stay and dine with us, Sir James?"
He was only too happy to promise to do
so; only too happy when Miriam, pale and
embarrassed, entered the room to have her,
as he expressed it, "all to himself." But
he took her mother's advice, and did not
speak on any exciting subject. He told her
about the Colonel's "big at home" the day
beiore, and how proud and pleased he was
to hear how good she had been "to the poor
soldier."
"It was nothing," said Miriam, with a
sudden blush.
"It was what not one girl in hundred
would have done."
"Oh, what nonsense, Sir James! Hun
dreds of girls young ladies go to bo nurses
now and do all sorts of things for the poor
sick people. But I am afraid I couldn't;
I have not the nerve. Even seeing the poor
soldier wounded vesterday has upset me."
"My darling little girl!" said Sir James,
and ho kissed her little hand. He was
longing to tell her how he hoped to take
care of her; to watch over her in all their
coming days, and to shield herself and her
nerves from every possible ill. He was
very fond of her, and his heart was very
warm and true. Her mother was right
wnen she had told him that Miriam might
be proud to have won his love, yet alasl
this was not so.
Presently he persuaded her to go out for
a walk as the day was fine, and as they
passed near the hospital he asked her if she
should like him to go in and inquire after the
wounded soldier. Miriam hesitated a mo
ment and a flush rose to her lace.
"If you like " she said.
"It's as you like darling; but I thought
you would be interested in the poor fellow
after doing so much lor him?"
"Oh, I am interested."
"Then I'll go; you stop here my darling,
and I'll be back in a minute."
So Miriam stood still and Sir James
walked quickly to the entrance of the hos
pital, and as he was about to enter the gate
way Dr. Keed was coming out of it. Sir
James knew Dr. Keed slightly, having met
him at the Clyde's, and he at once held out
his hand to the doctor.
"I have come to inquire how the poor fel
low is who was shot yesterday," he said.
"Miss Clvde is anxious to know."
Dr. Keed smiled.
"He is going on as well as. we could pos
sibly expect." he answered. "He lost a bit
ot blood, you know, but he is a fine, strong,
voung fellow, and I expect he will pull
himself together in a day or two."
"That's all right; how did it happen?
Through some blunder?"
"Don't know; there's a kind of report in
the regiment that the man who did it one
Smith had a grudge against Dare, but that
will have to be inquired into."
"Of course. Well, doctor, Miss Clyde is
waiting for me, so I must say good day."
Again Dr. Beed smiled. Then he took
off his hat to Miriam, who was standing a
little way oil, and the situation inwardly
amused him. As for Miriam, she felt over
whelmed when she saw Dr. Keed. She
boned in return to his salutation, but did
not look up, and the doctor was too good
natuied to approach her nearer. So he went
on his way wondering how it was possible
lor any man to trust a woman. Here was a
girl sending one lover her betrothed,lover
to inquire afteranotherlover, reflected the
doctor, grimly, for ho never doubled that in
some way or other Dare had been the lover
ot Miriam Clyde.
"What would her mother say," he thought,
"if she knew? Byjove!"
In the meantime Miriam and Sir James
were going along the sea-banks, and looking
at the long rolling waves of the restless sea.
Ever had the great mass of blue-green
waters a great charm for Miriam, for their
mystic murmurs seemed to bring back other
scenes more clearly to her brain. It was by
the sea another sea though that a dark
shadow has fallen on her life. She was
thinking of this now; thinking of the sud
den end to a brief, bright love dream; and
over her came a strange yearning toward
the past
Sir James was chatting on about his
place in Scotland, where he had expensive
estates, and Miriam heard, half vaguely, of
the splendid trout stream, of the deer "for
ests, and the blue waters of the loch; but
her heart was not amid the heather and the
hills. Another picture the moonlight
gleaming on the sand, and a young pair
standing hand clasped, keening their secret
tryst roEe vividly before her even as Sir
James expatiated on the wild beauties of
his native land.
"And your sister and her husband,
darling, "it will be awfully Jolly for us to
have them at Kintore, won t it? she beard
him say presently, and his direct question
recalled her from her reverie.
"yes," she said, still with her eyes fixed
upon the sea.
"What is your sister like, Miriam?" he
asked.
"She is very like me," she answered in a
low tone.
"But she is much older, I suppose?"
"No," said Miriam, still in the same low
tone, "Joan is only two years older than I
am."
Tet she is married to a General."
"General Conray is quite old; old enough
to be her lather."
"How funny that she should have married
an old fellow like that!"
Miriam bit her lips, and a look of sharp
pain contracted her brow.
"It is very strange, is it not?" she said.
"Extraordinary! And she must be very
PITTSBURG DISPATCH.
handsome, too, if she is anything like my
Miriam."
"She is thought good-looking," answered
Miriam and then she changed the conversa
tion. Evidently the subject of her sister's
marriage was not a welcome one, Sir James
decided, and he determined to avoid it in
the future.
But on the whole their walk was a pleas
ant one, and a little color had stolen back
to Miriam's pale cheeks when they returned
to the Commandant's white-washed house.
Sir James had told her that he was going to
remain to dinner by her mother's invita
tion, and Mrs. Clyde met them smilingly as
tney entered the hall.
"So you have had a walk, and you look
all the better for it, too, Miriam, my dear,"
she said. "I am so glad you are going to
star to dinner, Sir James, for quite by
chance we arc going to have an old friend
of my husband's, ton. Colonel Lowrey.
Have you ever met him?"
"No"t that I kuow of," answered Sir
James.
"No, it's very unlikely; he's Just re
cently returned from India, and is so brown!
But he's a nice man, and we've known him
many years; he knew the girls when they
were babies."
Sir James laughed.
"I wonder if hVll treat Miriam as a baby
now?" he said good naturedly, looking
fondly and proudly at Miriam's charming
face.
She laughed also, and then went upstairs
to dress for .dinner, and presently Ford
came to assist her.
Ford judiciously made no farther allusion
to the letter to Dr. Beed, as she wisely con
sidered it was not her place to do so. She
brought up some flowers which had just ar
rived from a florist's in the town, and
which she said the boy who had left them
bad told her that a gentleman had ordered
them for Miss Clyde.
"I suppose it' was Sir James," said
Miriam.
"The boy didn't mention any name, Miss
Miriam, only a gentleman, "answered Ford,
smiling. "Mavbe they're from someone
else."
Miriam did not answer. She fastened
one or two ot the beautiful carnations in
her dress, and when she -went into the
drawing room Sir James advanced eagerly
toward her, for they were alone.
"Thank you for wearing tnem," he said;
"they were the best I could get."
"Thank you for sending them; they are
beautiful,' smiled Miriam.
Then a bronzed, gray-headed, soldierly
looking man entered the drawing room, whom
Miriam introduced as "Colonel Lowrey."
He bore the marks of the land of the sun
bravely, and his whole bearing told you he
had been a man of war irom his youth up
ward. A spear wound from a dusky Arab
had left one of the sleeves ot his coat arm
less, and a purple line on his forehead,
which crept under his gray hair, told its
own story.
"What a tall girl you have grown!" he
said smilinglr to Miriam. "I knew this
young lady, Sir James, when she was about
the size ot my hand."
"That is a gross exaggeration, Colonel
Lowrey," said Miriam, laughing.
"Well, I had the honor of seeing you
when you were exactly two days old, at any
rate, "Miss Miriam."
"And what was I like?" smiled Miriam.
"I have no very distinct recollection,
but I think you are "improved bv age."
They all laughed at this, and while they
were doing so Mrs. Clyde entered the room,
gracious and agreeable as usual.
"What is amusing you?" she said, look
ing at the little group of three.
"Colonel Lowrey is amusing us, mother,
by his account of my babyhood."
""She's grown a great girl, hasn't she?"
smiled Mrs. Clyde, looking at the Colonel.
"Yes, it's wonderful, and it seems only
like yesterday, and yet a great many things
have happened since then," and Colonel
Lowrey sighed.
"Ye-, indeed," said Mrs. Clyde, and she
also gave a little sympathetic sigh, and
glanced at the Colonel's empty sleeve.
But he had not left his good spirits with
his arm behind in the sand of the desert.
He was in truth excellent company, and as
he was a keen sportsman, he interested Sir
James exceedingly in his descriptions of
thebig game of the jungle and the swamp.
The dinner passed off most agreeably, for
Mrs. Clyde was a famous hostess, and drew
out the "powers of her guests with admir
able tact. Before the evening was over Sir
James McKennon had invited Colonel Low
rey to dine with him at the cavalry messat
Helstone on the following evening, and to
go deer-stalking with him in the High
lands; and Sir James looked sentimentally
at Miriam as he gave the latter invitation.
They all parted the best of friends, and
Miriam went to bed tired, and slept fairly
well in spite of certain racking anxieties in
her mind. She was rather late in going
down to breakfast the next morning, and
when she did so she found her father and
mother already seated at the table. Mrs.
Clyde seemed in good spirits and they dis
cussed the conversation at the dinner of the
evening before pleasantly. Then Colonel
Clyde, who was in undress uniform, rose to
goto his military duties, and the mother
and daughter were alone.
"My dear," said Mrs. Clvde, as Miriam
finished her breakfast, "will ou come up
to my room now, as I have got something to
say to you?"
Miriam's face flushed and she began to
tremble as she listened to this invitation.
From their earliest childhood to be re
quested to go to their mother's room had
meant something serious to Joan and Mir
iam Clyde. There they had received due
punishment for their youthful oflenses, and
there they had been taught to respect their
mother's authority. And there Joan had
been told she was to marry General Conray
at a certain date, and she did marry him.
Therefore Miriam was sick at heart as she
followed her mother up the staircase, and
entered the room where she was sure she
was about to hear something she was un
willing to listen to.
"Shut the door, my dear," said Mrs.
Clyde, in her quiet but firm way; and so
Miriam did shut it, aud stood beiore her
mother with her dark eyes cast down.
"I wish to speak to you about your wed
ding day, Miriam, began Mrs. Clyde, look
ing ateadily at her daughter; "Sir James
and I settled it yesterday, we fettled it tor
a month yesterday."
"A month from yesterday!" repeated
Miriam, aghast. "Impossible, mother."
"Why impossible, my dear?" asked Mrs.
Clyde, calmly.
"Because because I cannot be married
then," said Miriam, in great distress,
thinking of a lite dearer than her own hang
ing on the balance, "don't ask me to do
this mother, for I cannot!"
"I don't ask you, Miriam, I tell you
simply it is to be; everything is arranged,
and your tather has promised to give me
100 to provide your trousseau, soou see
my dear it is no use your making any stupid
objections."
Miriam stood silent for a moment, and
then with a sudden and passionate gesture
she caught her mother's reluctant hand.
"Give me more time, mother," she
prayed; "I will try to keep faith with Sir
James but give me more time!"
3b i?e Continued Kext Sunday.'
Overcrowded New Xork.
Buffalo Enquirer.
We are accustomed to think of London as
the worst crowded city in the world, but it
is said that the most overcrowded block of
Whitechapel streets and alleys covering the
same space does not contain more than half
as many peoplo as some bloats of Eastside
New York tenements in the region ot Third
street, and avenuesB and C. According to
the census the block bounded by Second
and Third streets and avenues B and C con
tains over 3,500 people, enough to populate
a very respectable country village or a
booming young Western city. At one time
last summer there were five children in
hospitals who had fallen off fire escapes in
this block. This was explained by the fact
that the population slept not only on the
roof, but even on fire escapes in the summer
time.
DH.HOVDS, watobos, Jewelry, otc.i no fanoy
Brloes; quick sales and small profits at M.
. Cohen's, 86 Fifth aTenne. ,
Jncr Awvinas are neat and pretty, at
Mamaux & Son's, 639 Fenn avenue. wen
SUNDAY, JUNE 5.
MEN WHO MUST SLAY.
How Well-Groomed Citizens Take
Spells and Become Savages.
THEY MUST CAMP OCT AWHILE.
Frederick Remington Sketches the True
Sport in Pen and Pencil.
FKEAKS WIYES CAKT UNDERSTAND
WRrmT fob tiix DisrATCH.i
To a civilized man there is only one
pleasure which is greater than his first
night in camp, and that is his first night
out of it, when he has a bath and a
good bed with fresh sheets. This is enough
to establish the fact'tbat it is only by con
trasts that the salient points of things are
developed. If a man has a good home and
a good bed, and a furnace to keep the house
at a proper temperature at all times, he
ought to be happy. Add to that a good
cook and a happy family, and he should de
sire to stay in that place and enjoy It
Even if he wants a change and a rest, he
TITE SPORT AND THE
could find places equally comfortable and
easy of access; but there are men who get
up from the breakfast table and say to their
wives, "Now, I can't stand this sort of
thing anv longer,"andhegood little woman
knows that the spell is on him. He goes
off up stairs an J gets out a trunk, and then
from the depths of a far-off" closet he hauls
down some disreputable old clothes and lugs
out a gun and a lot of rods and fly cases and
ammunition and lays them tenderly in the
bottom of the trunk. He gets "a shockingly
had hat" and a pipe which Madam will not
allow in the settled part of the house and
strange cases made of canvas which carry
the charms and fetiches of the sportsman.
These he places in the trunk. He then over
hauls his "kit." He sticks "fly hooks" up
in rows in the pillow shams if Madam is not
looking.
W here Good XJttla Wife Appears.
He puts tallow covered cartridges on the
lace bed cover and then carefully lays a
heavy pair of very greasy and dirty cow
hide shoes on his wife's most choice piece
of upholstered furniture. In the midst of
this in walks the lady of the house, the
partner of his joys and sorrows. In this
case the joys and sorrows do not mix.
Madam says: "Now Jack I think it is
awful for you to put those nasty old things,
on my be'd you have no consideration,
etc, etc," and poor Jack transfers them all
7
THE REGULATION LEAN-TO.
to the floor, while off flounces the lady to
tell the maid that she must "go through
that loom thoroughly as Mr. B has
been packing his nastv- old traps and has
nearly ruined everything."
Jack is ready and is driven off to the sta
tion, where he'bids Ma-Jam "goodby" and
is rolled away happv in the knowledge that
in a few days he w ill be sleeping on a brush
heap witb rude men and surrounded by mos
quitoes and smoke, with tough, soapy bread
and black coffee for fond.
Madnni explains to a lady friend that
"Mr. B. is such a curious man he goes off
up there and lives like an wild beast I do
not understand it."
To develop the real sportsman the en
vironment must be favorable at a very early
age. If he is favorably situated he becomes
possessed ot an unbounded enthusiasm and
more tools of the sporting craft than has a
dentist in his.
m-rlca's Spurious Sportsmen.
A great many people are now growing up
in America whose tendencies are an il
legitimate cross between an English battue
and an American summer hotel they are a
sort of "arrested development" between
true hunters and fishermen and people who
are not financially able to bny a country
place. All such are spurious and not to be
considered seriously. The genuine Amer-'
ican lover of the woods did not gather hia
theories ot how to be happy from "shooting
on his estate" or proceeding against tigers
with the entire organized population of an
eastern principality or irom dilettante
literature on how to do the thing so that 'it
will stand wash."
He first passed his boyhood in a country
where the squirrels were pretty thick and
the trout would bite and the old gentlemen
were never ceasing in telling how they
killed "the biggest buck lever sot my
eyes onto." He then tried the Adirondacks
until they became infested with women and
summer hotels. Then he tried Maine, but
Maine got filled up with persons who w'ore
two peaks in their hats and ate their dinner
on a table, and the truides became servants
instead ot woodsmen. Then he discovered
Canada .ind the Bocky Mountains,aml away
in the heart ot their wildernesses you will
find his "bark lean-to" where the timber
grows the highest over the little spring, and
where the "dude has ceased from troubling
and the cigarette's at rest." This sports
man has got a moral mortgaze on a little
pond somewhere away oil -up somewhere,
and he won't tell you where it is because he
doesn't want you to find out.
How tbe True Sport Is Manifest.
You may not recognize this man of the
1892.
'woods in New York or Philadelphia, be
cause he has trained himself to be as much
like the rest of humanity as possible in
order that he may make a little money, so
that he can go hunting once or twice a year
and be Ins own natural self lor a space.
When the buds operxand the grass shoots,
and the sunlight thaws out his mind, lie
will manifest uneasiness and become un
settled. You can begin to detect him then.
He wont care about the frost and pe-ich crop,
or the candidates, or the Anarchists, but
will be morbid and go on incoherently about
brown-hackels, No. 8 shot, and improved
Winchester models and other profitless sub
jects. Late in the season he gets down his
double barrel and his rifle and begins to oil
them up. Ho tikes out his pea-jacket and
his oil-tanned moccasins and his jaegers. He
is constantly writing letters to "Sam Bush
cratt, Mountain Pine, Missoula county,
Montana," or to "Pierre Antoine, Temfs
tamang, Ontario, Canada,'" and receives
replies in brown or yellow envelopes signed
with his (x) mark. Why he becomes so
interested in these halt savage men in the
waste places only he can understand. This
curious person does not want to go with
Madam to the White Mountains or the
New England coast, bees off and goes up to
conspire with his friend, Dr. Swellkill, who
is a hunter and old comrade. They go into
the doctor's private room and lock the
door.
How Good Wives Get I.err.
Madam, the doctor, becomes concerned
DOCTOR, TRANSFORMED.
and goes over to see her friend, the wife of
the first man, and says: "Your husband
has been with the doctor a great deal ot late,
and I am afraid he will entice him away
this summer or fall, and I did so want him
to go with me to Mount Desert."
"Well, you know I have no influence with
Mr. B. He insists on going off to these
strange places he always has and I sigh to
think that he probably always will," con
doles the little woman.
"I am sure then that I can do nothing
with the doctor he too, will go it is so un
fortunate to have such tastes."
From that time on the doctor's health be
gins to fail. A brother physician recom
mends the "woods," and while it is so un
fortunate to be compelled to leave his pa
tients, yet his health demands it, and one
fine morning the man and his friend, the
doctor, are missed from the haunts of men.
In a few days the trim, well-groomed city
men are no longer recognizable. They sit
in the forward end ot the canoes with a
stumpy beard and a bull-dog pipe, dressed
in dirty, greasy clothes, while behind the
pans, blankets, packs and guns sits a strange,
dark-skinned, beetle-browed, half-breed,
with scraggy hair and a bristling beard. The
canoes cleave the rnirrowed waters, while
the yellow reflections mix with theVandyck
shadows of the overhanging forest in the
lake. They are happy.
A 8-ttIecI Fact or Man Nntnrev
It wonld be interesting to understand this
man so prone to these lapses of savagery.
We readily comprehend one who at times
becomes awfully drunk for days at a time,
and call it a nervous disease and give it a
scientifio name which clears it of mystery.
We know why the man leaves his native
city in the height ot the business aud social
season and deports himself to the West
India his bronchial tubes are on a strike
We of course see that another takes him
self oft to Europ", but he goes to cultivate
his mind and to be lazy and dissolute, but
here is this man whose business and social
life call for his attendance, whose health is
offensively rugged, aud he does this strange
BpuHoui Spo-'snrn Hotel Ifvnter.
thing. .He eats thu worst imaginable
food, all conked in a disgusting fashion, he
sleeps in a sort of kennel like n farmer's
dog lying on brush mid with the smoko
blowing all through a-id around him. He
freezes nearly to perishing every morning
he goes to bed wet to the hide and paddles
up stiff currents or toils under a 60-pound
pack all day and his only reason seems to
be n desire to slay.
You doubtless all know one of that sort of
men ask liim win? In all probabilityhe
will fold himself in his robe of superiority
and simply pity your varnished ignorance
aud'will not deign to reply. He will con
sider you hopeless, weak lacking character
and sentiment but if you would know why
he does it go with him when the spell is on
him anil find nut. If you d6 not like it you
will at least know w-hv.
Frederic Bemington.
Tennrson an Admirer of Gray.
A Mr. Stokes once asked Tennyson,
"What do you think of Browning?" " The
Laureate replied, "I would rather not sav."
Tennyson is a great admirer of Gray and
Burns, and once said that he would rather
have written the "Elegy in the Country
Churchyard" than any other poem.
Buorm Is a powerful dUlnfeotant, and kills
roaches, bedbugs and other insects the nl
stant It touches them. 19 cents.
wt Or
.- F
VAR AND POLITICS.
Sometimes It Seems the Soldiers
Saved This Great Country
OKLY TO GIVE IT TO BAD MEN.
Too Mny Jobbers Who Are Tutting Plunder
Before I'atriotism.
1 SEE110N BY EET. GEORGE HODGES
1WBITTSS TOR THI DISPATCH. I
And the three mighty men brake through
the host of the Philistines, and drew water
out of the well of Bethlehem, that was by the
gate, and took it and brought it to David;
nevertheless he would not drink thereof,
but pourfd it out unto the Lord.
That is a paragraph out of the annals of
the wars of Israel. David was fighting the
Philistines. David and his men held the
rocky hills, and tbe Philistines were in the
green valley. And one day when the har
vest sun was hot and shade was scanty, and
the battle long and wearisome, David grew
very thirsty. And he thought, as thirsty
people will, of the sweet taste of cool
water. He remembered a well at Bethle
hem beside the village gate. He had played
about it as a boy. He had druuk deep
draughts out of the dark depths of it in the
hot afternoons. The trees grew near it, the
winds blew over it, the grass nestled close
to its gray stones, and the clear water,
deep in the cool recesses of the rock, was
the sweetest in the world to David's taste.
Ihry Served Their Master Well.
He looked out over the tents of the
enemy, afar into tbe green valley, and he
fancied that he could almost see the little
village with the well beside the gate. And
he said, half to himself, "Oh, that I had a
drink of water from the well of Bethle
hem!" And these three men heard him
these three stout soldiers of his army and
they started for that well. The whole host
of the Philistines lay between. Bank upon
rank, with watchful eyes aud angry hearts
and sharp lances, lay "this great Philistine
barrier. But the men broke through.
They did not disguise themselves and steal
through. Down they went, defiant as
Goliath, and fought their way by strength
of arm to the well of Bethlehe'ra and back.
And David had his cip ot water.
The earth has always been a battlefield.
Everv day men are "drawn up somewhere
into array of battle, and othermen, for good
reason or for bad, are making their murder
ous way into their ranks. Meu began to
fight beside tbe gate of Eden, and have
been fightin3.ever since. History is divided
into chapters by the campaigns of the wars
of nations.
Vt nn ITlcMen Were Iho Heroes.
The first hero was the man who had a
stouter fist than anybody else in the neigh
borhood. The first king was the man who
was able by his strength and courage to
command the respect ot a considerable num
ber ot heroes. The first statesman was he
who planned the first successful attack upon
an enemy. The first discoverer ventured
into new countries that he might kill their
inhabitants. The first poet sang his song
over heaps of hostile slain. For ages men
were accounted of in proportion to their
ability to harm their fellow men.
"Saul hath slain his thousands!" shouted
the people therefore Saul is a great deal of
a man; "But David his tens ot thousands!"
so rang the answer therefore Davidls ten
times as much of a man as Saul. Tbe whole
world was in the condition of our frontier
mining towns before - the railroad, where
every man carried his materials for murder
evervwhere he went. The priest was set
beside the soldier in the estimation of the
people, because he was thought to wield in
visible weapons, sharper than swords and
longer than lances. Women were not con
sidered of much consequence because they
could not fight.
War a Natural Ambition.
At first msn fought, like animals, for love
of fighting. After that they fought for love
of reputation. They desired the good
opinion of their neighbors. And as ideals
had not risen then much above mere physi
cal achievement, and there was no apprecia
tion yet of wisdom nor ot sanctity, tne man
who would win admiration must be strong,
fearless of danger, careless of pain. Nat
urally the ambitious turned to war.
That is what public opinion does. It sets
the standard ol ambition. It makes a vast
difference with the nation whether its peo
ple have a high or low idea of excellence.
One of the most, important definitions in the
dictionary is the definition ot .greatness.
What is it to be great? Is it to dangle at
our waist a string of scalps? is it to control
a ballot box ot ignorant votes? is it to live
in a large house and to have a bank account
running into large figures? is it to bear the
name of an ancient family? What a differ
ence it makes what sort ot an answer people
in general give to these questions! Or is it
to be honest in all dealings, to be generous,
to be thoughtful of otheis, to be a learner
and a teacher of truths that are worth know
ing, to fight for right, and to be ot some sort
of use in the world? Is that what we ac
count to be the requisite of greatness?
One Mission of tUi Chnrcli.
Certain it is that whatever the majority
of people find admirable in human life,
thousands of human beings will strive after.
A greiit part of the mis-don of the Church in
the world, is to set a standard of apprecia
tion, and to teach the true definition of
genuine greatness.
These three heroes fought that splendid
fight oi theirs not for love of fighting, and
not alone for love of reputation, but for
love of David. This they did for him. That
which uplifted their adventure above all
the brave deeds of their time, was their un
selfish spirit.
The ideal soldier fights not for himself.
He fights for Da id. His David may be a
great leader, or a great cause, o-a great
country, but there must be a David. Some
where behind the soldier, watching bis
courageous onslaught upon the hostile host,
ready" to applaud us he faces danger, ready
to welcome and reward his victorious re
turn; his commendation the soldier's great
est laurel; somewhere must stand great
David.
The day has gone when armies fought,
like beast's in the black lorests, fcr sheer
love of murder. The day is going when
nations join battle, like bullies in back
nllevs, for reputation, in revenge forfancifui
insults, in vindication of what they are
pleased to call their honor, or for the ake
ot stealing one another's goods or lands.
We have driven that sort of fighting out of
decent society.
War Will Be It'Co;ntx-d as Wrong.
It is left now altogether to fools who
make themselves laughing stocks in duels,
or to ruffians whom the police carry away in
patrol wagons. And by virtue ot that ele
vation ot public opinion of which 1 spoke,
by more general learning of the religion of
Jesu3 Christ, we are going to drive it out of
the lit e of nations. We have not yet quite
come to realize that whatever is a crimelor
an individual is a crime also for a nation.
We showed that when we had our recent
misunderstandings with Italy and Chile.
But we are getting nearer to the truth.
The day will be a long time coming when
all the swords may be beaten into plowshares,
and no man any longer need to learn the
art of war. Because there will for a long
time be ignolant people in the world who
cannot understand an argument unless it
strikes them in the , face. Nothing but
might can teach them right The just
cause will long need to be maintained and
the welfare of the nation need to be de
fended by the stern hands ot soldiers. But
the day will come when no good man will
fight unless be fights for a cause worth
fignting tor.
The men whom we had in memory a week
ago had a reason for their fighting. Tbe
heroes ot the army of David adventured
their lives for love of David, but these men
gave their lives because they loved i their
country. They died that we might live.
This great united nation, with its secure
liberties, with its magnificient future, Is
the heritage of these heroes of the Civil
War. Happy the nation for whose welfare
her sons are not atraid to diet
Why D.vld D!d Not Drink.
Now see what David did when the men
came back, bringing the cup of water. Ha
would not drink it. He took that battered
cup as if it were the silver chalice of a
sacrament and poured the water reverently
out upon the ground, like a libation in a
sacrifice.- But why? It was the same
water of which David had drunk before
often and csrelefslr. The look of it, the
taste oi it, had not been changed. Itwas a
common cup of common water., Again and
again at Bethlehem, beside the well, one
friend and another had given David the
same kind of cup filled with the same kind
of water, and he had never thought of
refusing it. It was verv good water, but it
had never occurred to him beiore that there
was anything sacred about it
But now he would not drink it. Now it
was- somehow different, consecrated. He
cound onlv stand, thirsty as he was, and
pour it all out nnon the ground, with tears
in his eyes. Why? Was it not because
that enp of water had become the symbol of
bravery and devotion The cup meant
love.
That is what the graves mean which lay
marked with flags to-day In all the ceme
teries. Sacred graves! Symbols ot the
love that brave men had for liberty, for
union, for our country! It was well to
scatter the flowers upon them and to sing
hymns of freedom over them, and to stand
beside them reverent as David stood. We
may not have known the man who laid
down 30 vears ago in this grave or that,
weary with the fighting of our battles; even
his name may have a strange sound in our
ears. But lie was a soldier; he was one of
the heroes, who ior our sake broke through
the host which compassed us about and
brought us the water of national life out of
the well of liberty. Honor to him, and
gratitude, and reverent remembrance!
Politicians and Patriotic S.- diers.
Would that men might love their country
in the days of peace as these men loved it in
the days of war, and be willing to give
their lives still in its service, not by dying,
but by living for its welfare. Sometimes it
seems as if the patriots, having saved the
nation, had given over its best interests for
safe keeping to the politicians. There is
this difference between the good patriot and
the bad politician; the patriot fights not for
himself, but the politician fights for himself
only, first and last and all the time.
It is the bane of this nation, in our great
cities, in the administration of our State
governments, in the concerns of the whole
country which center in the Capitol at
Washington, that the men are lew who
serve as David's heroes did; or as they did
our heroes whom we have in grateful
memory; for love not of themselves but of
a leader, of a great cause, or of a great
country. Vampires they are, who are sock
ing the life blood of this, nation for whose
honor the veterans who laid last week
beneath the flaes and the flowers, shed the
best blood of their lives.
Every man in everv office whose main
purpose it is to get our money without giv
ing us any useful service tor it, every poli
tician in every party whose feet are swift
in pursuit ot "plunder, who fights for vic
torvoniy that he may steal alterward, is a
traitor to the country. He is a rebel. He
must be met and whipped as we met whole
armies ot men a thousand times better thai
he is, and sent them flying, in the Civil
War.
A Battle Fonsht Wl'h, Ballots.
He is a spy sneaking in the campthat ha
may betray the cans e of our Israel into the
hands of the Philistines. He must be fought
not with bullets but with ballots. It is a
great thing to be a good soldier. It is an
even greater thing to be a good citizen. It
is a great thing to die for one's country a
great and glorious deed is that but it is
even greater and more glorious, yes, and
more difficult, to live lor one's country, to
love one's land and nation with a love so
true that when national interests and per
sonal interests come into conflict the per
sonal interets'sinkoutof sight. Thirtyyears
ago we needed soldie-s.and men came forward
counting even the love of home less than
the love of country. To-day the great need
is for citizens. We have enough men in
this nation, counting men as the census
taker counts them, but what we want is not
more men but more man. We want men whom
no manner of partv allegiance, no persua
sion of political alliance, no bribes nor
threats can induce to follow any leader who
purposes to lea I them against the interests
of this great nation.
Perish the Democratic party! Perish the
Bepublican party! It the leaders of either
one put plunderin the place of patriotism,
plan ior their own mercenary interests
against the welfare of the country, and so
turn rebel. Higher than any party is fhe
United States of America, over which mar
the God of nations, year upon year, extend
his protecting benediction.
George Hodges.
A PB0MISING T0UHG AETIST.
His Novel nnd Economical Way or "M-
poilns of Ills Wares.
Chicago Mall.
Chicago has a promising young artist who
has developed traits which should entitle
bim to diplomatic supremacy. For some
time he has been engaged in painting a
number of game pieces canvases with
representations of birds, rabbits, etc. Ho
had met with very poor success in disposing
of his paintings. For days and nights he
sat with his head pressed between his
hands endeavoring to evolve some plan for
disposing of them.
One evening he attended a party which
was given by a lady acquaintance. Various
topics were under discussion, and finally the
subject ol pet dogs was brought up. Mrs.
A., who lives on Michigan avenue, and
whose husband gives her several thousand
dollars per year for pin money, remarked
that her little pet terrier was not one-half so
well bred as he should be because he was al
ways hungry, and horrors he had an in
satiable appetite for raw meat. The young
artist heard her make that remark and a
plan at once was formulated in his head. He
knew she had a peuchant for art or thought
she had and invited her to visit his studio
on the following afternoon, stating that he
had some beautiful game pieces to show her.
That evening he purchased a quantity of
raw beef, which he jealously carried home
under his coat. The next forenoon he spent
in industriously rubbing the raw meat over
the surfaces of the game pieces. Mrs. A.
called, accompanied bv her little terrier,
and expressed ireat pleasure at his work,
but when the little terrier suiffed hungrily
at the paintings of the birds .and rabbits,
she was wonderstruck.
"I believe he actually thinks they are
alive," she said, with wonder in her eyes.
"I am very prond to have deceived the
animal by my art," he modestly said.
And she purchased the lot at a snag
figure.
Am-rfon Periodicals la tho Lead.
San Francisco Cbrontcle.
It is a curious lact that the circulation of
foreign periodicals is waning in this coun
try. Time was when Fundi and the leading
German comic weeklies bad a great vog:te
here, but now the demand is well nigh dead
because ot the growth ot strictly American
comic papery. In nothing in thi country
has the development been greater or more
rapid than in periodical literature, and we
are actually beating the British on their
own ground with our illustrated, weekly
papers and monthly magazines.
ICU HE FITS'
Wkon I s&7 care I da not mean merely to stop thecs
for a Umo and then haro them rstnm a-ain. I xaesa n
ra!lc:J rcro. I hire o.-.ilo th-?(LoMof FITS, EFI-LEPSTorB,ALLCG5ICDTES3aWc-oatad.
I
warrant oj rcrnsdr to care tbe worst cases. Became
others hare failed is soraaeonfornotnowraceiTizza
can. Ecsdatocoeior a treatise and a Free Eatto of
Bar iaraliibl remedx. UIts Express and Poet OlSce.
B. O. BOOT, M. C, 1S3 Pearl He, N. T.
1,
I
It l
.aiifrfaafr
' 1 " I