TNIMIA OF IPIIIILICATI.X.
The Sitaolollo ItePORTSs is patolllloll MIT
Thriftily morning by GriusatCß i RIVOIIOOO/19
at Ode Dollar par ananm. In advance.
11Pir Advert - 14n la ail uses ezcineEVll of
. Imb•
ter piton o :be paper.
sr Cc 15"il Ai.: ierted at Tin cssilopsir
line for Ant ios-rttoo. and ra vac pealing or
shin ln ..?1,10.1‘; bat no notioslaserted
for lees tam a2:y . cee:s.
- TT. 1.d ., 4 I : ::4 TS otilbeinsert•
ed sc Assents rte ro es.
A. I. o.al 4::.‘•).!a A IA
Casiaesseards,direllalis,
(Pe: ye3.l tr.); addi:loeal Knee dt each.
fahrly trac.,,us are eai , ..!ed 1:13 oiler:B(4y
b saris. &di:sr.:seam itemes: be paid
for,f4 advaidore.
Allresola.lons ...oc;a.ioas; cotrintatileatioes
o! Waited or lailivideati invemst, and no ices of
se sr. !nes or oesi esonces.ding Ovelinesare Ow a
ed rtrr. nest': per tide, bat simple neticesof mar
'r
riages acid de ill he na , )llsbedwithontcharge.
ue II &foal' PI nay: og &larger circulation than
any ocher paperin toe coaniy, to.lltes It the best
alirdrtisi4g .azdient In Nor:nein Penes:lsaias.
iOll P.l* N'El vG is; ere., tied. In plain acid
fancy colors. done wait oea.ness and
sa ilispateb.l
li hills, Blanks. C.tz.ls, Pamphlets. Billheads,
Scuemests. ie., oferm y variety and style.printed
at she snortest notice. The atroevese oaks is
well samte.l el.b power presses,s good assort-!
meat of new type. and aTory thing in the printing
lice Cad be ezecCed In Lite most artistic manner
sal at thelowes: •aiee T.S.:1118 INVARIABLY
C AAR.
Vusiucss• garbs.
"Zt BALL,
ATTOZNITSALT - LAW.
SOUTH SIPE Or WILED HOUSE.
Dec 23-75.
SAM
W.
BUCK, •
TTORNRI-A ILL/ W,
N0y.13 . 79. TO W IVD d, PiNS"
Office—At Treltu•er's Office s In CoUrt House
ABEVERLY SMITH - tt
•
BOOKBINDERS,
And dealers In Fret Saws and Amateurs' Suppltes
Send for prlee•lists. RYPOISTER
Box 012, Towanda, P
MI L. HOLLISTER, D. D. 8:,
I: •
DENTIST
Successor to Dr. E. H. Angte). OFFlCE—Seem:id
fluor of Dr. ['ma's office.
Towanda, Pa., Jaunary 6, 1651
.NIADILL kKINNEY,
ATTOCNIZTS-AT•L'AW.
Office—Rooms formerly occupied by Y. M. C. A.
Reading Room.
0. J. MADILL. 3,1840 0. D. Enciet.Y.
JOHN W:CODDING,
• ATTOIL EY-AT-LAW, TOW.hat DA. PA..
Oleos over Ktrby's Drug Store.
TIOMAS E.-MYER
A TTOR N ET•AT•L Ate',
WTALUSING,
rartleul.r attentfou paid- to bnalness In the O.
pbana• Conti and to the aetUement of estates.
;Septeuther 25, 1879. - '
p EcK. & OVERTON.
ATTOIiNKTS-AT J.sw,
frOWANDA; "A.
IPA. OVERTON, BENJ: M. Pima.
RODNEV A. MFACUR,
ATTOY.N nT AT- L AW,
TOWANDA, PA.,
gilleitor cif Patents. Particuisr attention paid
to business in the. Orphaus Court and to the settle
ment of estates.
Office In Mon - anyes Dlock
OVERTON & SANDERSON,
ATTORN EY-AT-LAIN
TOWANDA. PA.
JOH'N F. SANDERSON'
E. OVIlltiON. Jit
W . H. JESSUP,
ATTORNEY AND COrNSELLOR.-AT-LAW,
MONTROSE, PA
Judge Jessup having resumed the practiceof the
aw su Korthern Pennsylvania, will attend to any
-legal bus,!ness Intrusted to Min in Bradford county.
Personswishing to consult him, can - call on li.
l
Streeter, Esq., Towanda. a., when an appointment
a
P
can be m de.
LIENRY STREETtR, , .
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR-AT-LAW,
TOWANDA, PA.
Feb 27,'78
1 ;L. HILLIS,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,
. TOWANDA, PA.
lIIIIAM E. BULL, .
. SLRIVEYOR. •
I:NCI:VIED - IND, SVRVETING AND DRAFTING..
Office with G. P. Mason, over Patch & Tracy,
Maio street, Towanda; Pa. 4. ISM.
ELSBREE & SON,
ATTORNESS-AT-LAW,
TOWANDA, PA.
N.C.ELsßnics
JOHN W. MIX,
irroRNICT-AT-LAW AND U. 9. CoMIIIBBIOII9II,
TOWANDA, PA.
()thee—North Side Public Music. -
Jan. 1,11175
J ANDREW
ATTOF , t NET-AT-LAW.
Office—Means' Block, Ma!met, over J. L. Rent's
store, rowan May be consulted In German.
(April 12, '71..)
TV J. fOJNG,
•
ATTORSZT-AT•LAW,
TOWANDA, PA
oast—Mereurßlock, Park street, up stairs
CI S. M. WOODBURN, Physi•
rclau and Surgeon. Office 'at residence. on
Main street. first Als•r north of M. E. Church.
• foam, a, Aril I, ISM. •
Vir. B. KELLY, DENTIST.-o,ffice
• !Ivan M. E. Rosenfield's, Towanda, Pa.
Teeth inserted on Gold, Silver, Rubber, and Al.
rtiolum base. Teeth extracted without pain.;
D. PAY NE, M. D..
PHYSICIAN AND SCHGEON.
,Odlee over Moritznyes* Store. Office hours from 10
to 12 A. 14, and from 2 to 4 P.
•
Special attention given to
DISEASES ( . DISEASES
' OF and OF
THE EYE VIE EAR
MIN=
TTORNE T-A T-LA TV,
'lO5 Norib Franklin•st.; Wilkes-Barre, Of.
' I .V
Sre•rlal attention given to collections In Lucerne
atoll,ackavranna counties. References: lion. r.
A. Morrow; First National Bank, Towanda,' -
A .
. ,
, , 1
.
.
,
rRS. E. J. PERRIGO, 1 .
.
....L
TRAFIII.R OF rtaxo AND ORGAN.
IL...na given in Thorough Ram aod lianiinny
Ciflitvathiu of f fi• voice a ppecialty. Located at J.
P. VALI rieet'3; State Street. Itefesenee r - Holmes
& PaKsage. Towarals, Pa., Starch I. MO.
CI W. RYAN,
COUNTY SCPZRINTZNDI
o.llce day last'Saturday of eletrmouth, ever Turner
& Gordon's Drug Store, Towanda, Pa.
•
Towanda, June 20, 187 S.
C S. RIISSELL'§i
, • GENERAL
INSURANCE .AGENCY
tsv.x.7otr. TOWANDA:PA.
EDWARD WILLIAMS,
PRACTICAL PLUMhER,& tiAl3 FITTER
Place of busloe,ss, a few doors dorth..of Post.oMce
Plumbing, Galt Fitting. Repotting Pumps of_a t ll
kinds. and all kinds of Gearing promptly attended
to. All - wanting-work In his line should give him
rail. Dec. 4. ICE
.
FIRST NATIONAL BANK;
TOWANDA, PA.
APITAL PAID IN - 11125.000
ISIDSPLUS FUND 75,000
. .
Tbic Bank offers unusual facilities for the trans
action of a general banking business.
N. N. BETTS, Castile:.
JOS. - POWELL. President.
HENRY HOUSE,
00 1 / 1 1 RAIN t WASIVNGTON STRZETS
FIRST WARD, TOWANDA, PA.
Meals si all hours. Terms to suit the gmes. Large
stable attached.
WM. RENA*. Paoraiwros
Towanda. July f.
QIISQUERANNA COLLSOIATI hf
-Tierra —FIRsT WINTER TERM miUmsn
menee MONDAY. OCT. 31. ISSI. Expenses for
Isar& tuition and furnished room. from $173 to
Its° ps.r year. Tor catalogue or further parties.
Mrs addammtho P
s a ark. uum .
mir• u
?Mmes. July 7.
COODRICH & HITCHCOCK, Publishers.
votum xm.
THE WATCH ON CHRISTMAS EVE.
Close by the chimney, on etaittninieee,
. Are huddled two tiny forms •
The rafters enact and the windows shriek,
.11.ud the night Is wild with storms.
'Tie a lonely watch, for the specter Doubt
Has entered a childish breast,
And faith to-night must be lost in sight,
And the spirit laid at rest.
"Are you sure he'll come P" says a tiny voles,
"0, .ay you are certain qu ite l•
Oh what could we do it leshouldu't be trne,
And nobody earns to-nicht:"
But the sweeter tomes of childish trust
Steak In on the other's doubt;
"0, never you fear, you'll see him here
When :he midnight bells ring out."
TOWANDA. r..
°Perim's they have told us estory, though,.
Ton see we're such little boys ;
.-
I should feel so nod, if I thought they had, •
• That I'd bate the Christmas tovs: •
Do - you think he'll care for the wind and rale
They say he's getting old—
Whit that heavy pack on hh poor hump-back,
Atli the night is so very cold r
March I, 1881.
"I tell you the reit deer brings-him here,
Auethe load of toys Is light ;
Bis coat Is warm, and he laugh's at storm ;
know he'll come to-night.
Them tower can be a doubt, say.,
0, never a cause to fear ;
Our watch we'll keep while the others sleep,
Aud we're sure to see him here."
But the minutes drag, and the small heads droop
When soft through the parlor door •
Two shadows creep, while bright eves sleep ;
For the bold night watch Is o•er.
They cram she stockings with leads of toys, —
And then *nth stealthy tread.
They lift each form in Its night-gown warm
And put the watchers to bed. t
A SEARCH FOR SANTA CLAUS.
A little girl of summem reef=
Though many wintry days she knew
-Went trudging thoiegh the city street,
'Unmindful of the igloo' and a eet,
So strong the purpfte in her mind .
The friends of little ones to find, •
The good old Santa Clans;
She saw the holiday display,
And hea d the other children say
That `auta i lair; would bring 'hem this
Or ilia?, and'she would surely miss
A share in all the Christmas 3oya ;
No doll, no candies, cakes or. toys !
What should she do? He titust be near t
Ile always was this time of yer.r!
And she wovld know him should she meet
111 w face to face upon the street;
And so she took her s.ation there
Upon :he busy theroughfare, .
May I, '79
Some 'wondered at her er.ger bolt ; •
While others passed; nor notice toot
Of them , soft pleading eyes that gazed
Up In their faces, much amazed'
rhat of the many on review ' -
There was not auy perton who
11.7.rker the shadows grew apace,
And tears rolled down the maiden's face,
At thought of iretct.edneks and gloom
Tbat centered In the garret room
Where she must seek her wonted rest,
And for the day give up tite.qu4t
A hand was laid upon her bead:
"What; ails thee, little 0n. , ..?" then said
A kindly voice of manly tune :
W,l4out so late? and all alone?
Iter 4 Siory then she briefly told,
And at lit close she whispered bold,
your name Santa Claus ?"
Cnovll-75
He answered, "Yes " 'Twas Christmas eve;
His wife would mane gifts receive.
But none ho'd more dear, he thought,
Than this oor waif he swiftly caught
Within his arms ;then homeward sued ;
And, as he dropped the'borden,.said •
"A gift from Santa Claus I"
No longer doomed the streets to roam,
The beggar-child has found a home
With loving hearts; and should "ou hay:.
" What did you get: on Christmas day ?"
She'd answer you, with cheeks aglow :
"Oh, lots of goodies I for„-you know,
I the with Souk! Clans!"
-Josephtne•Pollard in Illustrated Christian
L.Etsisimit
A CHRISTMAS-STORY.
HAVERLEY WOLD.
TILE J. UEST OF ''THE CRIMES."
A Yoikshi re moor—a blinding fall
of snow and' a dark night are . not
conditions anyone would voluntarily
select'iti conducive to the enjoy
ment of the Christmas season ; yet,
on a certain 23d of December. a few
years ago, all those conditions fell.
to the lot of .a traveler, who, mounted
on a handsome. chestnut horse, was
proceeding slowly along an almost
obliterated 13atii.
The rider was a man of seven or
eight and twenty, tall. and sat his
horse like one brought up to- the
sf,ddle ; a military cloak was flung
around him. the collor drawn - high
as a protection against, the cold Wind
that swept over the waste of snow,'
and his slouched -hat-was set low on
his brow ; but a pair -of very brilliant
blue eyes to piefce.through the veil of
snow,,strove in search of a light, and
ever and anon kept. watch on the
path, which every moment grew less
distinguishable.
"By Jove!" he mutteredpresent
ly, brushing the snow from the
sunny-hued ..mustache that shaded - a
handsome , mouth; 'things are begin
ning to look queer They told me I
should pass' a rO - adsiderfingerpost,
and I have not passed tine yet,.and
that-was to be my guide to the inn—
'The- Chimes'—which I sficiUld not
be sorry to reach. I greatly prefer
campaigning in Inlia to this soil, of
thing.'
Almost as the words; ieft his lips
his (pick eye .caught sight of some
object a little way ahead that flashed
for a moment through the snow and
gloom and disappeared again ; but
'the young offleer—lor such be seem
ed—urged. his horse forward, and
his heart rose up with renewed hope.
Surely that object was the finger
post. Another moment proved his
conjecture to be correct. 'There, like
a pale, thin ghost, stood the finger
post, stretching out its battered
arms to right and left. 'Lifting him.
self in the stirrup. the traveler read
on the one arm, •To Todmore and
Foxley ;" on the other, •To Holdon
and ilicklemere.' The latter was
the rod he bad been told to take,
and he turned his horse into what
had become little better than a track,
but still, esp. cia'ly to military eyes,
clear enough to be cafe.
In another half hour the traveler
caught sight, of a light glimmering
through the darkness s and presently,
Alas ! no Santa Claus
To search for Santa Claus.
Resembled Santa *Clans
For dear old Santa Claus
THE INN
ON
CHAPTER 1.
1w
GE
•
bendiiig forward, be ,nould discein
the outlines of a lciw, straggling
building, which stood a little back
from the road, and seemed to be
completely isolated. But, late as it
was, 11 o'clock, there were evidently
people astir, for as the traveler came
in - front of the building he saw a
ruddy blaze of light in the parlor
Window and beard a sound of gruff
voices from within. • A covered wa
gon, from which the horses had heed
taken- out, standing near the road
side, afforded a clue to tie welcome
sounds, which at least promised a
fire. The traveler rode up to the
door, and, springing to the ground,.
- rapped with his riding whip. Al
most immediately the door was
opened, and a tall, powerful York
shiredran' with a lantern in his hand, -
presented, himself.
'I suppbse,' said the stranger, shak
ing the snow from his cloak; 'one can
have a'supper and a night's lodging
here ?'
here' else, sir P returned the
burly landlord. 'Walk in, sir. Joss,
see to the gentleman's horse.'
A dumpish looking lad made his
appearance, but the traveler insisted
on going round himself to the stable
and seeing that his horse' was well
housed and groomed and supplied
with provender before he attended
to himself.
Mine host wag waiting at the door
when he returned
"Fond of ycurborse, sir?' said he,
-
•1 am a soldier. friend, and always
take care-of my horse first of all'
'A soldier? Ah, indeed, sir. Come
in) Your supper will soon be ready.
Awful night, isn't it? Did you
come from Overburn ?'
'Yes; from the citation. lam on
my way to Hi!don, and I was direct
ed to this place for a night's lodging.'
'Couldn't come to a better, sir,
though say it.' As he Spoke, he
opened the door into the chief, or, as
it appeared, only public room of the
in,n •'
whic.i was floored with tiles,
and roughly furnished, but a huge
fire bla4ed on the hearth; and in the
chimney corner sat a red faced car
ter in a coarse smock -frock.
. Thisindividuiil drew his pipe from
his mouth, and stared hard at the
new coiiner, but did not offer to rise,
and the stranger, who, 'soldier•like,
was evidently accustomed -to Make
himself,! at home under any circUm
stantes, threw off his • cloiik and hat,
and advanced to the file with-a cour
teous, half-carelesi, 'l3lood.eVening,
friend. • 'A fine night for ;travelers,
eh ?'
To which remark the carter res
ponded by a grunt, and continued to
stare. The new arrival was certain
ly not of the class. to w hich the
guests at The Chimes were accus
tomed. He . was a tall, dashing, aris
tocratic looking man, whose •air,
speech and
_clothes bespoke the Lon
dot.er ; a very h ndsome man, too,
with a noble 1 apt of features, and
that blending of power
.afid ;gentle
ness or. expression which wins alike
the trust and respect of men and
women. Although his hair and mils
taChe were of a minty tint,
his com
plexion was deeply bronzed, nor had
the dolipately-made hands he . held
fur a moment before the blaze es
caped the effect of tropical suns.
On the third finger of one of these
hands 'flashed a. :reae - diamond of
great price and beauty, whiCh , it did
not seem to occur to the young man
be would have done wise to'. remove..
'lloi far, is it to - Iclildoti-P' he
asked, making another • attempt at
con versatiot).
'Matter of twelv6 mile.' .
,„;
•
'Along th is roap ?'
‘Noi, cross cut. Eben 'll show
yer th' road.
‘Eben,' probably an abbreviatiqn
of CEbenezyr; was evidently mine
host, who at that moment returned,
•announcing that his niece would
bring in the supper directly, and he
seated himself before the fire with a
jolly smile on his round, good
natured face.
'You were ,hold, sir,' he began, 'to
attempt Haver Wold• on such a
night as this.' _
bl.hadn't much choice, _ mine .host.
I am-on my, *ay - to Hildon,. and I
am - due sometime to-morrow. When
I reached °vert:ll.n I found the
train could get no further; the line
.was blocked, and likely to'remain so
till heaven knows when, but . they
told- m'• I could ride Across the. moor,
so Iliad out my horse and resolved
to try the eiperiment.' . -
'AI), air. I see—young lady up at
Hildon, eh P
'say,' said the. other,' laughing,. 'I
haven't, yet found that young lady.'
Haven't you ? Well, it's not for
want of good - -looks to take the wo
men's fancy. - It's the Manor people
you're going to see, I.take it ?" ", •
'lt is.'
'Well, sir, -I. hope you'll have a
merry Christnias. It, isn't very mer
ry Cbristmasep we get here, for there
isn't house kwithin eight or nine
miles either way, and so , you may
imagine WS dab)
'Dull ! I 'could not live such a
life. HOW does your niece like it.'
'Well, not much, I suppose; but,
she's not , my niece, you know, sir,
thouigh I call her so. She's-a lady—.
true as - true, sir. Her father was an
artist—name - of Brandon—coine hire
with her one such night as this. and
she was just a baby - His had been
a runaway match. he totl me; hiss
wife was a great lady, an d that was
all I knew. He died quite sudden
in the night and left the , little one;
so what could 'I do? I couldn't find
out who she belongei to, so I just
kept hnr here; hist! air, here she is.'
After hearing this romantic story
the young man naturally turned to
long with constdeiablc curiosity on
the damsel who now entered, bearing
a tray, and his start' of wonder and
admiratiOn must be forgiven him.
He beheld a girl of about seventeen,
tall and Wender, clothed in a scarlet
pAticoat, with it.-jblue handkerchief
fastened picturesquely across , her
bosom .A. quantity of dark hair
clustered over a small, riobly-poised
head; her face was a purevval; her
complexion clear as opal and as pale;
her features delicately cut, her eyes
large, dark, lustrous, and shaded by
very long lashes. Altogether the
TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, :PA, THURSDAY - MORNDIG, DECEMBER 22, 1881.
girl was remarkably beautiful, and
looked about as unfitted for the
coarse, mean life to which she was
doomed as it was possible to imag
ine. To juige superficially, by her
face she seemed to have acquired a
sullen, proud indifference toler tate.
She- scarcely looked up as she came
in ; she set down the tray and began
laying the supper asdf the room was
empty save for herself, - and when her
task was done she 4aid quietly, 'Sup
per is ready, sir,' and , went and sat
down apart, drawing some work from
her pocket and plying her needle
quickly and silently. Her voice was
sweet and low—the voice of a lady
but without_ brightness • .ir sounded
as her face looked—as though laugh
ter were unknown and happiness no
more than a word. The young offi
cer could hardly take his eyes off the
girl, who never raised her own, or
took any part in what followed.
I 'Radials a queer 'un,' said the
host, jerking his thumb toward her,
'but a good girl, sir—never corn.
plains—queer name, too, isn't it ?
That was the name on her • clothes
plain enough, so we kept it.'
'lt is: , a foreign name,' said the
young man, carelessly, not wishiiik
to talk about the girl before her face.
•Do you li -e cigars, Mr. --:-, I beg
your.pard n ?'
'Oh, sh lton's my name;rsir. Eb.
enezer Shelton ; but bless you I they
all cull me Eben. Cigar, sir?
1 hanky—well, I'll try one. though I
don't remember I ever smoked one
before.' . .
It was a very dainty ease the offi
cer pushed toward him, and bore en.
graved on it the name and status of
its owner, 'Captain Grahame Erring
ton.—th Hussars.'
.That your name, 'sir?' said mine
host., rending the superscription.
'That Is my name.' - •
'Captain— Errington ? All right.
Thanky, sir, much oblige.'
Ete 11, 4 said the saturnine carter,
*wasn't it to night last year that
traveler from York,fell over into the
turn ?'
'No, no,' said mine host, settling
himself in. the chimney corner as he
p ,Ice. and his burley form almost
oisappeared in - the gloom, 'that was
on Chris mas Eve. A dreadful
thing, Captain Errington Re had
come her for the night—that gentle
.maa—and the next day he woull . go
on. Well, I Went with hini to •put,
him in the right way. as far as a flti
ger post, yonder. that
,showed . him;
and he must have• taken the wrong
one after all, for his body was found
nearly a month later in Hanereley
Tain..he'il fallen in; yOu 'see, you
can't tell the tarn is there till you
All into it; not in snow time; the
ground all' looks . - so fair There's
more than one has lost his life-there.'
must beware of it,' said• Captain
Errington, laughing.
,43h sir,- . you couldn't mistake if
you were careful. show you the
way all
•Yon are to kind.' The young;
Man rose from the table, and Rada
rose too and went to fetch him a
candle..
•What time will you be called, sir?
she said ; returning . and giving him
am :a soldier, Raika,' said he,
Baffling; alwayi" wake early,
thanks.'
`Very well; sir. Good night 2
`Good night, Raika.'
She looked . up for a moment, but,
her eyes fell and a light color crossed
her cheek as tihe met Captain Er
iingion's gaze. No doubt she had
been admired often . and. boldly
enough,-but had probably never en
countered . admiration so blended
with reverence and pity • nor it
likely. that she bad ever before been
spoken to by anyone, belonging to
the class to which'tier birthright en
titled her, and her heart beat with a.
new and bewildering sensation as
she turned away and sought her own
little chamber. Perhaps that poor
heart, struggling ever like a caged
bird, would have beaten faster yet
had she known
,that the handsome
officer's thoughts were so entirel y
absoroe'd ,by ~ her that he .did
. 4 1 ! ot
sleep•for hour's, and quite forgot to
wonder how Ebeneier Shelton made
a living out of inn keeping in, the
midst of a
• Yorkshire wold, where
his taking could hardly amount to
. 421) a. year.
'
CHAPTER 11.
Daylight brought no change in the
weather, the snow fell fast and thick
when Captain Errington 'descended
to the public room.
Raika was there alone, moving
silently about. She lifted her heavy
lashed eyes as the guest came in,
and bade him simply 'Good morning,
sir.' but the young man, following
Perhaps an impulse which thought
might have checked, held out his
baud.
'You are my equal,' he said, mull
ing, though there was u. pained look
in his eyes.
—An expression of utter wonder
came into hers, and the blood rushed
hotly over cheek and brow dud dyed
even her white neek.
'Your equal I' she said. 'No, lam
not. lam an inn servant.'
'An int, servant bye accident, a
lady by birth, and, lam sure,. in all
else. You will not; then,' said the
young man gently, •give me your
hand I'
•Yes,' under her . breath, 'if you
wish it.'
She laid in his a Brutal white band,
so smooth and delicate that it seem
ed impopaible it could do hard work;
and the touch of that hand thrilled
to the young man's very heart. -if
be had :followed the prompting of
the moment he would have raised it
to his lips; but thought came this
time quick enough to save him from
what might have been misinterpreted.
Re dropped the hand and turned
away in silence. Raika went offset
ting the table, but she made one or
two mistakes and had to rectify
them. 'Presently Erringkin
served :
'Balks, you surely do not do the
hard work of this Eloise. -
tibe shook her head. 'l4;iJok the
ostler does, that. • 1 am ;not !very
r
~..,.,.."„:„,:...,,,....,i,
~.._„.
e ;I • I I • A. 0): . - 4 ANY W741=1.
- •
string. Eben won't let me, do bard
work.'
'Your tone, Italica, implies 010
you would like to do it.'
'So I would—and hive done with
it.'
'With what?'
•With, living, to• be sure; 'tis no
use to me, is it -
'Rush! Raika; it is terrible to
hear you speak so; you are young ;
you have all your life before you.
'lt won't be a long one, I'll. take
care of that,' said she, sullenly.
She bad to pass near Errington as
sbe spoke. Hellaul...Auick band' on
r arm and turned her 'round to
COM. •
'Rance, do they ill treat You here?'
What's fierce [Loh. froml the black
esi
'No; Eben is kind enough in his
fashion, and the rest let me alone.
I would like to see one of them so
much as dare to touch me as you are
doing!'
d_Olet mind me, Raika ?'
'You're a gentleman, and You only
mean to behind, I am sure; which
is a pity, for it can't do me any gook
and will make things seem worse.'
'Oh, Raiku, do not speak so.' Ae
turned aside with a desponding gest
ure. 'Oh, if I could only help you.'
The girl 'shrank back with a Bud
den passionate sob. don't want
help!' she muttered in a choked
voice. 'No, no, don't touch me—
don't speak to me!' and she turned
and mailed out of the room.
Grahame Errington sank clown
and covered his' eyes for a moment.
•By heaven!' he said to himself.
'am I courting. fate, or has fate over
taken me ? The girl bewilders—
dazzles me-and she is a lady, gent
ly born, not even—though her au--
roundings are so rough and harsh. I
must save her from this life. But
how?' • •
The entrance of his host aroused
him,_ and greeting Eben t 4 helton
courteously, the young man asked if
he and his niece would join him at
breakfast.
'Thank ye, sir, much obliged.'
Raika was summoned and came in
without any signs of. unusual agita
tion on her countenance, and she sat
down in silence:
eYnu don't think of going out, this
morning, sir ?' said Ehen, glancing
out of the window and his eyes tra•
veling hack rested a minute on the
rose diamond. .
'Well, I hardly know- 1 last
evening he would have answered dif
ferently, hut now he had seen Raikal
'''lt wouldn't be sate, sir; you can't
see-your - way ,When the snow falls
like that. The. finger-post is a good
mileaway, and you'd never, find it
without someone showed you 'the
way; and I wouldn't trust Jos to,do
that; if he took you straight he'd be
like tell you wrong when you got.
there. Maybe - you think I'm speak.
lug in my' own interest. sir; but your
own sense 'II tell you that a York
moor in a.snowstorm isn't altogether
easy traveling.'
.'No, I don't'L misjudge you,' said
Ellington smiling, although there
was something about the jolly. round
face'of Eben Shelton he did not quite
like:. 'And certainly it would newer
do tO take you out in a snowstorm
'Lor, sir, it isn't that—t. at would
n't signify—it's the danger. You
don't know these parts,-I see, sir.'
'I never was in Yorkshire in. my
life before.'
'Oh indeed. I thought maybe
you belonged to the Hildon Manor
people.'
'No; I met the eldest son in town
this season, and he asked me to spend
Christmas with them. I don't know
the rest of the family at all.
Raika glanced furtively at Eben,
but remained silent.
'Of course, sir,' continued mine
host, knew you were soutb,coun
try—but still you might have been
related to the Manor people.. Maybe
it'll clear up by the evening—not
much before, I think.' '
• 'Which way from the finger -post,
lies this awful tarn P asked Erring
ton. •
.
• 'Well, sir,' the innkeeper laughed
and scratched his head, •,it's difficult
to tell yoti, becausil it all ilepends,
how you come up to the post. For
there's a right and a wrong way, you.
see—now, then, Raika, what are yOu
after there?'
The girl had risen up abruptly,
without any ceremony, and gone to
the door.
thought I heard Binnie outside,
that's all,' she said. 'There's no harm ,
done.' •
'No harm bat rudeness,' SaittSbel
ton, angrily, 'leaping up.like a young
beck to look after the 'archer!
What'll Captain Errington think - of
Yorkshire manners?!
'Pray,' said the young man hastily;
'do not imagine that I am, offended.
Raika is right—there is no harm
done, and you know, Mr.
ladies command all these things.'
4 Ladiesoir 1. Yell, she's born a
lady, sure enough, but she's not a
lady now—don't pia that notion into
her head. •
The girl came back to the table
with .a burning color on her usually
pale, face. and Captain , Eyrington,
partly for her sake, partly for his
own turned quickly to the innkeeper
and said:
'Tow were tellingmealicitit-L--'
'The tarn-4es, sir. Well, if you
come to toe finger.i.ost the right way,
as I said. then the road to . the tarn
turns off to the right. Your way is a
h.ridlepath to the left, and that wi
()ens out into a good road some two
milei3 furthee_ on.'
"Rut the road to the ri;ht passes I
by the tarn, does it, not, V •
'Yes, sit ; but just on the crown of
the bank, and: in the winter time,
with :the snow covering everything,.
you can't see where the bank begins,
and it's a sheer descent into the
tarn, sixty feet, below you—the first
you'd know would be going down
like a stone dropped into a well.'
- 'ThanitsAaid Errington, laughing,
land there I might lie for months,
like the pobr fellow you were talking
of last night.' -
'Aye, sir,' said Eben, risit.g. 'that
was a terrible affair I By e the wnv,
Raika, where's Martin? That's the
carter, sir.' -
OE
'Re is snotinkin the kitchen; re
plied Balks, . proceeding to clear
away the breakfast things.
Mine host sat down by the fire and
lighted along pipe and Captain Er
rington leaned against the chimney
piece and entered into conversation
with tam, a conversation in which
fisika„.w bile she was •in the room,
never once joined, an] she i presently
went out, leaving the door not wide
open, but just ajar, and all the while
Grahame Errington talked to his host
his thOughts were with the girl who
seemed to have resigned herself' to
her harsh fate with a kind of grim
apathy, awful to 'behold in one with
youth, beauty and gentle birth, all
that should make her life bright and
glorious. Wby did he keep away?
it she would not talk it was a pleas
ure--strong enough to make every
pulse throb--only to look at her.
Did she distrust him ? Perhaps he
could hardly wonder if she did, al
though she had professed tp believe
his kindness had in it no sinister ele
ment. Anyhow, ha answered Eben
almost at random for some little time,
but at last, with an effort roused him.
self. The innkeeper was .a -shrewd
man, and might suspect' hat Raika's
beauty bad made an impression on
the dashing guest, and sucksuspicions
would- probably recoil on the girl's
head.
•I suppose you carry pistols, sir?'
was the first remark of mine host
that he really fully comprehended.
'pistols!' The young man's blue
eyes • opened wide. 'Are the people
here given to shooting their neigh
bors ? Besides, you forget that when
I started I did not intenil to ride
across the moor.'
'True, si-; no, of course you
didn't.' Well. I don't suppose you'll
- meet with any bairn between here
and !Eldon, especially such weather
as this : but there are sometimes
queer characters about.'
Erritigton glanced out of the win
dow. It was still snowing fast. - '
'My friends sill think 1 am lost.'
he said, with a half sigh. - must
manage to push on to-night.'
'lt'll be - clear by . then, sir—quite
clear, at least not snowing,' said mine
host!, filling a fresh pipt;- 1 1 ,and
put you in a way for Hildon' '
'Many thanks.' He. turned to the
door, and as he reached it tie thought
he heard a light step without. Had
Raika been listening ? but what for?
besides he could not connect such
meanness with her, ani there was
certainly no . one in the passage.
am just going,' he explained to
Eben, 'to see my bone. He's my
sweetheart; you know.' •
'Your only one?--ab sir! I know
better.' • ' .
'My only one. indeed,' said the
other laughing with an odd feeling
that to:day the answer was not quite
true. - Bahl this ,eirl was ignorant;
he really knew nothing of her; but
she wss &mere child in years--she
could be educated ; he could not be
mistaken in believing that ,a noble
soul,a keen and wide intelligence,
resided in the slight form clpthed in
homes - pith; he had money, but how
then could he, a young mania higher
social position s use that money so as
to benefit this yoUng girl without
doing her irredeemable 'mischief in
the • world's eyes'? Well, he could
find out where her father was. who
her.friends were; but meanwhile he
must leave her here! . He could not
reconcile himself 1 , 0 that idea, and
yet could see no escape froth it.
He turned toward the stables and,
as he drew near, saw that the door
was open, and the'. his heart gave a
sudden hound. There stood Raika,
feeding his horse with carrots, and
tenderly.-caressing him the while.
She looked up, with a violent start
as she heard the I , young officer ap•
proach and colored painfully, but
said deprecatingly : •
was only feeding him, I am fond
of horses.' -
'So it seems. Don't run away,'
laying a detaining hand ori, her arm,
for she was about to quit the stable.:
'What are you afraid of, Bilks I"
'Nothing.' she stood mill and lolk
ed dowrri- but she was drawing her
breath quil:kly and there was a kind
of frightened look in her eyes for a
moment, but it passed.
'Nothing,' repeated Errington, gaz
ing steadily on the beautiful, friend
less creature, and, sorely tempted to
take her in his atiiiiibere'und then,
hope it really is nothing. I don't
want you to - be afraid of me.' • ,
'I am not; but there's no use in
your talking to me—it can't. do me
a bit of good—'
'Stay, Raika! it may do you some
good. I may be able to help you if
you can tell me anything about your
parents.'
'I clOn't.know any more - than you
heard last night.
A troubled shade fell, on Erring
ton's brow.
'Still,' he said, after a pause, 'even
that is some clue-1 know your fath
et's name and profession—l can dis
cover, no doubt, who he is, and find
one your relations.'
Was the girl touched brthe' kind
neest Was her woman's heart un
stirred by the though!) 'Why should
he take so much interest in me?' It
was hard to tell. She showed no
sign of either gratitude or pleasure;
she drew' back, and turned her face
aside a little, saying, in a kind of
dogged manner.=
'lt would not matter anything to
me; there -is fro use in any one put
ting themselves out about me—not
the least. 1 dare say you mean to
he kind to me--I am sure you do;
but it can't help
Erringtob set his teeth and was
silent. it seemed to him that.
.the
girl mistrusted him, and though he
did not blame her for the thought it
pained him deeply, conscious as he
was of no feeling 'that arraigned his
boom. Be said no more, - but he was
resolved, nevertheless to seek out .
Itaika's relatives. the looked at. lain
as he turned away, and opened het
lips to speak, but closed them reso
lutely, and without a word went out
of the stable and back to the kitchen,
where she set abott the work of pre.
paring dinner in a, mechanical kind
of a way. The emir still kept failing,
and the girl watched - it now and then
with an evresaioa of-satisfaction.
_ \
..,,,
~,,.....,.
. . -
-• ' -:-- - t
Slie was revolving something in her
mind. What was it ?
When she 'lent to lay the cloth
Captain Erringtort.vas sitting read
ing, or rather pretending to read, a
local paper of about a month's date.
Eben Shelton was smoking near the
fire.
‘Ehen,' said the girl, 'I suspect you
will have to tap a new cask. I fancy
the last one has run nut.'
'Nonsense,.girl it can't be yet.' re.
turned Shelton in a surprised tone..
, 'Well, I will see.'
She went along the pas4age,
opening a low door, descended a
steep night' of stairs, so dark that
only habit could enable her to know
where she was going. When she had
reached the bottom she took a ian
tern from a peg in the wall, lighted
it with &match -she carried andi!en
tered the cellar, a wide, dreary:look
ing place.
• Her subsequent proceedings were
strange. She went to a cask already
tapped, and placing beneath it a
bucket that stood near, set the tap
running till the bucket was full and
the cask empty. Then she carried
the bucket to a sink in the flooring,
emptied all the beer down it, rolled
the . bucket into a dark corner and
flearched about till she found a good
sized piece of wood. With this in
her: baud she ascended the steps
again, leaving the lantern behind her,
and the wood, too, it seemed, for it
I , a,s not in her hind when she reach
ed the passage.
'Straiglt,she wint to the keeping
.
room.
yl he cask is empty,'{ she said.
'You'd have to tap a [yeah one. Mar.
tin drank a hit last night,you know.'
'Well, - well,' said mine host, rising.
'if the eask's out, it is; so here o toes
He went out of the room, and his
heavy step passed along the passage.
Raika.held her breath for an instant,
but went on in her swift, silent, in
diffelent manner.
Suddenly-there was a loud crash—
aAoaiie cry. Errington and Raika l
sprang to the door together.
'lt's Eben I' cried the latter, breath
lessly. 'He's fallen - somehow down
the steps. Hold t sir; you can't see
I'll fetch a light.'
The door at the top of the stairs
was open; from the darkness below
came It heavy groan. In an instant
Raika had brought a light, and she
and Captain Errington descended the
stairs.: There at the bottom lay the
bulky form of Eben Shel on, one fot
doubled under him. He was groan
ing and , swearing vigorously, but,
with Errington's help, succeeded _in
rising and hobbling slowly up the
steps.
'How did it, happen,. ?' asked
Rants, anxiously. Dtd you slip ?'
'There was somet,hblg on the steps
—something you left, you white-fac
ed hussy,' he answered, ancrrily.
'I left nothing,' returned the girl
'You must have slipped.? But as
she tipoke (she was following her two
companions hotding up the light) she
noiselessly threw out of sight a. piece
of wood that lay it the foot- of. the
stairs.
dare say it is nothing very bad,'
'said Errington, quickly, wishing to
!Apare the girl any abuse. ,You were
fortunate to escape so well,'
'Aye, I might ha' broken - my neck.
Thank you, sir, for helping me.'
He hobbled into the keepirie-room,
and there sat dciwn, and examination
showed that bisifoot was pretty bad
ly sprained. Raika brought vinegar
and swathed in tags theswollen ankle,
and the innkeeper, with many a wry
face, submitted to his fate and sat
with his foot. upon a chair.
'One bad thing is, sir,' sail he dur
ing dinner, 'Oat. I shan't be able to
show . you the w,ay ' • 'but you needn't
be hindered for that--Raika knows
it.'
P repeated Captain Erring
ton,-'travel a mile through the . snow
, LOnd after dark—for me. I should
. 0 . 54 t think of it.'
‘Lor, sir, 'tis all right. She's not
Ale of your town bred ladies. She's
been out on the moor at night many
a- time.'
'1 could not allow it I' said the
young man, firmly. Raika interpos•
ed
'Aron will not find your way alone,
sir. You - tad best let me go. If
you
.went alone I should follow, for
I should fitney you were over the
tarn,bank.7 -
'Then I Must yield.' And no more
was said on the subject. ,
6 ' TURN TO, TIM .14011. T."
About 6 o'clock the snow ceased
and the moon rose and shown !t down
pale and clear on the vast expanse
of snow. Jos was ordered to bring
round the chestnut, and while he was
gone Captain Errington paid his
reckoning, drawing forth a well
stocked purse. Raika turned %way.
and an odd look of triumph lighted
up her black,eyes us she. went to the
kitchen.
She came back eriveloped in a long
frieze cloak. with -a liood that, would
draw over.the !wad, but was thrown'
'back. She paused near the door.
Errington• held - Out his hand to the
host
'Good-bye, sir,' -said - that person,
heartily. sae journey to you,
sir, and a merry Christmas ; you'll
remember. thid Christmas Eve, sir,
no doubt--a funny one, eh ? There's
Raika all ready , mind, blind, the bri.
die path to the kftP,
'1 know it, Eben. should know
Haverley Hold, if any one does.'
She passed out, Errington follow
ed, and they stood without in th e
Erringtob bestowed a hand
some largesse on Jos, and passed his
arm through his horse'ti
'Come,' he said. '
'Are you not going to mount, sir ?'
While you walk ? That would be
strange Courtesy, Raika.
'Very well, sir. This way, please.'
It was-very cold—fri , ezing hard—
hut the girl did not" cover her. head.
She walked .on by her companion,
stell in silence, treading lightly and
fearlessly over the frozen ground ;
and Errington did not speak. Per
haps his beart, was too full just now
fol. words. Once or twice Raika
looked back, and the young man fan
cied—it might; only beitfancy—that
CHAPTER HI.
$l.OO pm . A ditum,in Advernee.
she breathed more freely when the inn
was Olit 01 sight. fr eely
she rais
ed her hand.: 'Do you see that post.
yonder, sir? Yes ? That!s the fin
ger-post.'
Thr oh 'be thc
ie place where they must part
He owl.) no answer, and the girl
'glanced at him furtively; then walk
ed on a little ahead of him, and had
reached the finger-post when he carne up. Finger-post it was called by
courtesy, for only one broken arm
remained, and on that there was no
direction., The girl'a face seemed al
most as white as snow around her .
She put her hand—it trembled now
--oh the young man's arm.
'Do you :see that track,-
Said, pointing with her other band.
'going to the left P a , - -
'Qu to plainly.' I
.'4%,1.d you see that other—a better
road—to the right?'
,• 'Yes.' • -
'That ig . your road, sir;' said Rai
ka, steadily, 'to the right.'
'To the right,' repeated Errington.
.Eben Shelton said especially the
bridle-path to the left.'
!talks looked fell in the speaker'
face.
, •Eben Shelton said that," she said.
•benanse the bridle-path to the left
leads right on to the tarn.
- Raika!' He could say no more
—the horror- of the idea that her
startling words presented •checketi
all power_ of speech. -
`Believe which-of us two you like.'
continued the girl, resolutely., -Trust
him or me as you will.. I- know him
you do not. • He. murdered' that Mart
they were talking of last night; and
if be had come with you-to•night, hr
-would have murderedyou and rob
bed you., I couldn't stop it last time
—I didn't suspect it; hilt Lfound it
out afterward, and I knew he bad
made up his mind what i to. do whet
he siw, your . diamond,l'and I Mad(
up my mind to prevent him. - Didn't
he find out Nit night that you wen
not related to the Hildon Matto'
people ? That was because if you
had been the business
.might . have
been more risky: Didn't he find ow
to-day that you did not carry pi.
tols.? 1 knew he would be asking
questions and I listened and heard
him. 1 lied about the cask ;- I poured
all the beer away and put a piece of
wood on the a- airs that
-he- might tali,
down. I didn't care whether he brake
his neck or not; but - hespretned '
ankle; that • is-, all 1 - really cared
about ; and he thought I would send
you the wrong way !.'1 am too wise
to let him see my hand. If yon fell
down into. that tarn • yeti-would be
buried'in the snow. He would come
the next day rind rob you—there is a
way down , for those that know it- -
and leave your, body- -there for kites
and ravens. If you are wise, sir,.
take this road to the right.
Standing a few feet from her coin•
panion, and speaking in
. a
calm, deliberate manner, RMlis told
this terrible tale ; and as she finished
pointedagaini to the right,-as though
her intermatien had nothing, espe•-•
dially out of the way, and her own
future concern, in the matter was of
no sort of consequence.
had heaid her without interruption, -
amazed less by the - black villain 3
disc'Osed than . by- the - part -- she had
played. and.' her manner of relating
the truth, for to doubt her, never for
a moment occurred' to the - young
man. But as she ceased be made
one step to her side and grasped her
arm.
'Raika,'
he said, bending down,
.noble woman ! 3'43u hare
saved my life.*- Can yon atk if I be
lieve you? ißut at what risk to
yeurself have you done thial What
do you intend to do?'
The girl glanced round at the wide
dreary moorland, and,tried to shrink
away.
?'she . said,'never mind that, sir.
I'm not going hack do The Chimes--
that's all ; he'd kill me when he
found out I'd played him false.
.'What, then, did you intend to do.
Raika ? Did you think that after
what- you, have told me .I should
mount( my' horse and ride away and
leave your.
lislica's eyes wavered. 'I elin . get
over the moor to Bieklemere,' she
said in a low tone:
Talks,' said the young officer,
sternly, 'you know • that you would
be frozen to death before you could
reach Bicklemere; it is twenty miles
away.'
'What then r said the 'girl. lifting
her. head, with a desperate. look in
her eyes. want .to be. frozen. to
death—rn be glad . to die. I've
nothing to live for—my whole -life
haa been like thip -tarn, black and
Sullen. I've save] yours ;
_now let
me go and end [dike.' •
For answer, Grahame Errington
flung his arm 'round the sliglst, form.
'llaika you must come with me.
I will take you to friends who will
care for you. Yon talk sadly. How
could I let you destroy your life?
even'—his lips almost touched her
brow as he spoke the last words—'if
it were not so deir to me'!'
The girl's dark eyes met his with
a beirildered gaze—her tierce, reek,
less spirit seemed to have fled—she
trembled like a leaf in the young
van's strong embrace; and when he!
added gently, 'Come, you can 'ride
before me on the saddle, and I will!
take yon to a new and happy
she did not answer, and hardly
seemed to fully understand jhim:
Errington had no doubts, no hesi
tation now; the web of his' life was
cast, he knew, for good or evil—and
evil it could hardly- be if this noble
hearted girl was to- share ,it.
loosed her fur a moment, am:l-Nank
ing to the saddle, bent dOwii to her
again
',Give me your hands," put your
foot on mine. So!' I
,
• In a moment the - girl was seated
b-fore him, his right arm clasped
firmly round her, and hel bent over
the fluilied f tee that would hive
turned from him. Itaikh,' he said.
passionately, "you have saved my
life; give . your life to ine, I think
you can '• I think even now you love
me, Itaiis:
With a quick sob, the: girl bid her
face on the young man's breast. He
had read the secret she; had hardly
known herself; read the secret of
NUMBER 30
her longing to tad a life ' . that with
out him must be so utterly blank
that she dared not face it. He wrap
p:A her close to him and kissed the
qriivering lips, whiapering.to her that
he bad not meant to leave her long,
that he would not part from her, for
he loved. her,
_and ,very soon she
should be his:wife.
Balks could only cling to him
then, feeling herself in a, • kind of
dream, and - save to show - her lover
the right road to take, she hardly
spoke the whole way. '
:Little reeked Graluttife. Errington_
of cold or snow that Christmas Eve,
as: be rode across Beverly Wold,
with Balks. clasped to him often as
pasmiiig strange that he hid pledged
his life to a woman of whose very ex
istence le bad not known at this
hoar yesterday, the thought never
Mir to him with any feeling of mis
giving=any doubt of his own heart.
Eben Shelton -and the grim lonely
inn: and the terrible tarn„faded away,
into a sickly , dream, and left only'
this treasure--like gold - gathered
from dross., and beyond the night
and the fieldsiof snow lay a golden
dawn.
It was one o'clock in the Morning
when the old - manor house of Hidon
was reached by the traveleis, and
lights still binged in the windows,
for it was Christmas Eve;''but
amid the festivity was a deep under
current of anxiety, for all feared that
Aome mishap had befallen Grahame
Eirington. Errington's load peal at
the bell brought-into the lighted ball
the gray-haired Lady Langside
'and her son and a troop of guests,
and poor Raika hid her, face and
scarce 1• new whether to clig to
.?, her,
protector or to shrink from him fbut.
he bade her look up and told his hos- -
teas that he hart a strange tale to tell
her; and kindly Lady Langside took
the girl's hand,. and as Raika lifted .
her, face, then, with a sudden cry, the'
lady turned to Errington Grahame
F:rriagton, who is this—answer me?
Kind Eeaven !—am I dreaming?—it
Raika--as I saw her last—Raika
daughter!'
said Grahame Erring
'on. • is your daughter's"child, Raika
Brandon.'
- Explanation followed. Captain"
Errington related the adventures of
he two days, and Lady Langside,
her lost dadghter's child in her arms,
related how Raika Langside had fled
herhome with a poor artist named
Brandon, and how herasAily, in
their pride; had henceforth repudiat
,d her; bitterly repenting their harsh
neess when too late.
So after all, it was a very happy
Christthas at the old manor house of
Fli'don. the precursor of many to fol
ios.. Last Christmas lCaptain Er
rington and his beautiful . wife Raika"
were the principal guests, and Raika,
,with her bright sunny-face and happy
laughter seemed another creature
Yrom the girl who had seen nothing
worth living for, and had. sought all'
escape from desp.tie in the dreary-su
icide of the frost sleep.
As no criminal charge- could be
!aid against Eben Shelton, Captain
.Errington did not take.any steps in
that direction, but he effectually cut
off any luture.chanCe of that worthy
treatina_traNielers as wolvei treat the
!leer. Cy causing a strong railing to
he erected all around the tarn, and
in a letter to the landlord of The
l'himes he told him that his treach
.ry had been discovered and how it
had been fciiled.
It is supposed that this letter pro
anything but an agreeablelm
pression on Eben's. mind: At -any
rate, withhea month of its receipt lie
ilisappeareil,. and up to the present
rime the Sp on Haverty Wold is'un
nhabited,ibut is visited sometimes
by toUristis on account of its being
the cause of a romantic story,. which
somehow became known, and is still
often rehearsed over Christmas fires;
nor be-forgotten in the North
country when Grahame • Erringtbn
and Raika are gathered tolleir-fath
,
ers.
) I
•
An /lett of Inte est to Dairymen
and,Fatmers
In view of the fact' that a large
number of establishments • for -the
manufaCture of butter and cheese are
being chartcred, the. following Act,
which.*:‘,; pris , erl linallylby the last
Legialattsre: will be of special inter
est 7 1'!; - e bill is entitled ! '" An Act to
_Protect the- Manufacturers -of Butter
and Cheese." It provirles : "That
from arid after The paqszige of this
act, Warty p rson or Persons: with
intent to 4lrfrsud, sell, supply_ or
bring; to be manufact'ured, any
butter or cheese manufac.ory, in this
State. any milk diluted with water,
or . in; any way adulterated, uncleanly
and iiinppre, or milk from, which
cream has taken, or Milk commonly
knoWn . as skimped milk,- or if any
per4On or persons so furnishing milk
as aforesaid who shall keep back any
part of the milk known as "Atrip
pinl.oror-shall)fhoWingly; bring or
supply to any butter; or cheese man
ufaetory-that is tainted or partially
sour, or shall ,knowingly - bring or
s4ply to any butter or eheese man-
Or-actory milk drawn fiom cows with
inffifteen days before parturition or
'within fifteen days after parturition,
all. for each' offence, forfeit: 'and
pti'y a sum of not - less than ten• dol
-I.4ts nor more than - lone hundred dol.
with costs of suit, - to be. sui - d
fOr in any court ofF competent juris
diction for the ben'efit'of - the -person
,
or persons, firth association or cor
poration
poration upon,whOrn such fraud or
neglect shall hecOrnmittel"
Josh ISHllnals Heard tram.
• - NEWPORT, H. 1., Aug. 11, 1880.
' !'.)EAR BriTens--I.am.tiying to breathe
in'•all the' salt air of the ocean, and bay
ing been a sufferer for more than a year
with.a refractory liver, I was induced to
mix Hop Bitter,s w,ith the sea gale, and
have - found the tineture a glorious result.
• * *. I halo been greatly - . helpid 'by
the Hitters, and um not afraid to say - so.
- Yours withont vt,ruggle, '
FLORAL. PEctott..Tioss.—ifanging
floral decorations in pots -or baskets
should be plaCed where :they can
have abuntlane,e- of light and EOM
?thine, and not near the stovq. or reg-
Mer. If the light comes_ from one
side, theJiask4 ought to , 'beAurned
every diy.
Ix'a Cincinnati daily we notice that Mr.
Tim Gleison, 43..meaiber of the Council
from the Fourth Ward of that - City, says
be Suffered terribly . with 'rheumatism all
_last winter and spring. Ritried all kinds
of liniments and medicines without- any
benefit until he, used - St. Jacobs Oil, the
first apPlication of which insured a ful
night's repose, and its subsequent use
entirely cured him. It is a great remedy.
(01 o) Beacon.
CAKE `Oll. FRUIT SANDWICHES.-
Four- eggs,: their weight in flour,
sugar and butter, warm the butter
and heat it into a cream, than stir
them in. Beat the, cake well for
half an hour and bake in a rather
quick oven. , If for sandwiches slice
the cake in 'half and pit preserves
between.