?(5) ill fl
giitiiiii
B. F. SCHWEIER,
TEE OOIBTITirnOI THE UIIOI AID TEE EUOSOHMEflT OF TEE LAVS.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXVIII.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. TENNA.. WEDNESDAY. JUNE 25, 1SS4.
NO. 26.
TIICOI D, OI.II SrOKt.
H.. Well at first he carae "l
Wellt
As others Iil: h tlktl tn each in turn ;
U: uiiul on fanning sudilmily was bent
desirous erery way to learn;
Hr t.M tli ''' of every fond intent,
Talkel with the mother of her patent
churn
The flattered father felt himself more wis.
Such growing interest lit tha stranger'
eye.
Ami then, somehow, he always soerue.1 to
tind
A vacant seat by Lucy; and he took
XuhoWinc skeins for her small bauds to
wind.
Sometimes we caught a shv, admiring
l.n.fe
In his hroti n eyes, a gesture more tl.an kind
(if his strong haniL (hie day we found a
l.k,
Gi!t-e!'l and nice, among our Lucy's
things
A new .d land out-shon her other rings.
An.l s-n be lingered by the porch at eight,
r- .r -eM'ul of tlie summer dews that fell,
WhiW.'iiT. with her blu eyes all alight.
Would friii her weary father from the
well
A cl:nu lucht: and then as if by right.
He j tend her there, there seemed so
inn, h to tell
(r matters little to my rhymes
li-r p.teli. r ovnlloweil a dozen times.
S.'ti.it'L's went on, utitil the mother found
1 1:. t I- " '. who was micIi a careful child,
H.,i it-rc- "orjotten, in her dai.y round.
In k ui the rail, and like a tangled w ild
Cr-- rveiy d.iy her bit of jj.mteu cround.
Where ""nee the roes aud carnations
smiled.
It was the tii.t. Old Story, and you kuow
That natuht but marriage out of that can
j;row.
Tin: laii:i"s rno.MisE.
n a sechi Ted parish in the Highlands
of Sotl.md there stood, and still stands,
a clunky substantially-built edifice
which the country people around call
the Mansion House of Koehard. It is
si iiated at the head of a long valley
running down from the mountains, and
is surrounded by large plantations of
rir. whrh, if they afford shelter, impart
alM to the adjacent landscajie an air of
uahroken solitude and melancholy
g!,HMii Half a life-time kick, when
the wild lita'.hs around this lonely house
were all aglow with beauty, its then
master, a widower with one child, a
bviy. brought to it a new mistress whom
he "had found at the. quiet hearth of an
adjacei.t manse. The new bride had
few personal charms ; she was a little
liale, nieek. brown-eyed woman, in all
respects a contrast to her predecessor,
who. 111 her magnificent leauty, looked
down upm the new-comer out of the
loiigiiif sof family irtraits that adorned
the T.a'Js of the dining-room at Koch
ard. Tall, fair, red-lipped, with fhe
clear Jieauiy of an auburn blonde, with
full blue eyes, keen, haughty, and over
flowing with scornful light, the first
Mrs. U.R liard seemed to meet the sec
ond w ith a smile of defiance, as she
shrink ingly entered her husband's din
ingrooui for the first time, and walked
with some secret misgiving and fear to
what had been the dead woman's place
at the head of the table.
"And vet, sure,'" thought the little
meek woman whom the death of her
father had left alone in the world.
mean t j do her no wrong ; I will love
the Laud as much as he will let me,and
I would so love oh, so dearly love to
be a real, true mother to her boy 1"
"it was surely because she had so
few to love all her life," the neighbors
said, ''that she seemed to make so much
at all times of tiie Laird's stupid boy,
William liochard was an ungainly
boy, sell -contained and reticent, slow
to receive impressions, and still slower
to forget them. He had been been dis
pleased by his father's second marriage,
and, after his own fashion, he resented
it. He was not cross to his step-nio-
ther, but he would not I friends with
her; he was not disiispectful to her.
but tie would not call her "mamma.
or "mother," or "Mrs. liochard" even;
he would si?ak of her only as "papa's
wne." Nimetimes the Laird, who grew
to iove liis gentle Mary passing well
would get angry at the boy's obstinacy.
aim tie on the point ol punishing him
but Mrs. liochard always interposed.
So the more gloomy and sullen her step
son was the more she redoubled her
sweet teudernesF. her gracious cares.
hoping, praying, eagerly watching for
some sign of softening in bis obdurate
ceait.
Matters were in this state when the
Laird went out one day, hale and well,
to superintend the blasting of a piece ot
rock in the quarry, and was brought
nacK, scarcely an hour afterwards, t
mangled bleeding corpse. It was a ter
rible home-coming for the poor wife who
lived only in his stnile and indeed she
seemed stunned by the blow. She dad
not rry, to the great wonder of the
sympathetic servants, but sat holding
the dead man's hand in her owm, and
looking iuto his face without ever shed
ding a tear. Her demeanor wasequally
caini wuen the friends and neighbors
cuie 10 bury mm. fche uttered no
shriek ; she only went to the window
and watched as long as she could the
long bla?k-robed train winding away
uown me valley between the pines, she
was still there when her step-son came
back, and in his isolation and misery
crept close to her and called her "mo
ther." At that dear name her unnat
ural stillness broke down, and she
burst into such a passion of tears that
me lad was dismayed ; but she bade him
let her cry on. for every tear she shed
eased her poor brain, which seemed as
if it w ere girdled round by a bajii of
iron.
Then came days of weakness and
Pain, in which the sullen boy was. after
his
silent fashion, always trvine to
serve her. Just as often as otherwise,
nis attempts at kindness ended in some
trouble or inconvenience to her; but
she never seemed to see that or to be
conscious of anything but the kindly
motive. Weary, heart-broken as she
as,she had always a sad smile for
n't". .She had won "his heart.it seemed.
last, but, oh. at what a price 1 Thus
the heavy weeks went on until her enly
child was born. After that she seemed
to rally a little, her eyes brightened,and
faint tiniie of color came into her
Weeks at the sight of her baby-boy ;
and, as the held him in her arms, and
elt the new strange bliss of motherhood
thrilling through every vein, she could
nave wished so to enfold him for ever,
us to shield him from all the world's
100 surely coining misery and care.
Alas, p or mother, that joy, so exqui
site, was of short duration ! She was
-VuiS, and dying quickly too, for the
ay after her baby was born she began
J sink. All that it was possible to do
wr her they did, with the sad convic
uun that it was in vain. Then a wild
terrible anxiety began to take possess
n of her. Who would care for her
Juv when she was gone who ? And,
wua a mute apral in her sad eyes, she
iuruea 10 ner step-son, or late so
strangely kind. He was beside lier
bed, gloomy-looknig as usual, but with
his heart all aflame with a newly-found
re!entance and love.
"Mother," he said, reading and an
swering her unspoken thoughts, "do
not fieU I call Heaven to witness le
tween us that I will be father and mo
ther too to the little hid."
Half an hour later she was dead ;
but, although there was no portrait of
her in the great diuiug-room, there was
no Tear of any one at Itocliard forget
ting her. least of all the new Laird.
The haif-educated, silent, but not un
intelligent youth had stepped at once
into his father's place, and, if he did
not seem likely to increase the fortune
his father had left him, it wasat least as
improbable that he would diminish it.
He had nei'her the foibles nor faults of
youth, but he had still fewer of its ami
able qualities. To the world at large
he seemed little better than a rugged
boor, but to the little infant, in its mo
therless helplessness at Rochard, he was
tenderly almost femininely kind. All
that was deepest in his still, repressed
nature gush d forth to meet the bahv
coomgs of his infant brother, who
stretched out his little fat arms lov
ingly, ana clung to him in nndonbtiug
trust. It was a pretty sight, because
few would have dreamt of finding such
softness there ; it was like a rill of wa
ter trickling down the desert sand, and
making an Eden out of a Sahara.
As years went on, the love of the
elder for the younger bro her seemed to
increase, and to take ever as it deeiened
a more parental character. 1 o have ad
vauced Frank's interests, he would, if
he could, have shed his very heart's
blood. Imperfectly educated himself,
he spared no expeuse that his brother
miht have whatever advantage the
best of schools and a college curriculum
could afford. It was no doubt his na
ture to save, but Frank gave him an
ohject for which to hoard ; and he rose
early and sat up late, and denied him
self in all things that this adored, idol
ized brother might one day be riclu As
might have been expected, all this in
dulgence was not good for Frank lioch
ard. It did not perhaps spoil him com
pletely, but it made him very wilf ul,and
not a little selfish and wayward. He
was not ungrateful to his brother, but
the habit of being deferred to in all
things had made him forward and self
conceited ; and, when he got to be a
pert smart schoolboy, aud then a vain
self-sufficient student, he fell into the
fashion of the world, and thought slight
ingly, as it did, of the loutish ungainly
Lair 1 of Hochard.
In due time an ensign's commission
was bought for him, aud in quick suc
cession he became by purchase first
a Lieutenant aud theu a Captain. In
the long vears that had passed
since ill lam liochard sat by his step-J
mother s dying bed, he had become
rich, and to Frank happy was now,
as then the sole object of his lif.
Shortly after Frank Hochard had become
a Captain, it was necessary for William
to go to Edinburgh on business, aud,
while there, he lived in the house of nis
agent, a shrewd, keen, somewhat
worldly man of the law.
This gentleman had a daughter, a
blooming girl in her "teens," who
seemed to the awkward country gentle
man a creature almost too ravishingly
beautiful for earth.
William liochard was not fitted to
shine as a wooer ; but the proverbially
rough course of true love was made
very smooth for him by Mr. Grey, and,
after a few tears and poutings, pretty
Cecil was won over to her father's way
of thinking, and the strangely -assorted
pair were engaged.
All this time the Laird had not drop
ped a hint of his intentions to his "bov
as he was accustomed to call his younger
brother. The truth was that, about
the time of his first visit to Ediuburgt
Frank had wounded him deeply. A
distant relative of his mother had left
him a small property on the condition
that he would take her name of
Campbell which he not only did with
much alacrity, but discarded alto 'ether
his family patronymic of liochard, "just
as if," thought the indignant Laird,
"he were ashamed of it and me ;" in
which latter coujectuie he was perhaps
not far wrong.
Therefore, he was, for the first time
in his life, not open with his younger
brother. He wrote to him seldom, and
his letters were short and constrained
Frank's regiment was expected soon at
Edinburgh Castle, and, after he came
there, it would be time enough to tell
him of his intentions and introduce him
to bis darling Cecil.
In due time Frank came to Edin
burgh ; and William, in the one or two
visits he paid his betrothed, saw him
for a short time, and on each occasion
found it imios3ible to break to him his
astoun ling news. Sometimes he thought
there must be something very ridicu
lous indeed in his intended marriage
that he could not speak of it to his
boy." As for any disadvantage ac
cruing to frank from this suujen
change in the plans of his life that
should not be ; he bad been so thrifty
and careful that he had saved a large
sum of money, which he resolved to ex
pend in purchasing an estate lor his
brother as good at least as Uociiaro.
Vith regard to him nis conscience
was clear, else he could not have btten
so happy. And he was happy with a
trembling, fearful happiness tliat was
nearly akin to pain. This love which
had come so late wan inexpressibly
sweet to the silent, undemonstrative
middle-aged man sweet,although ruin
gled with many Secret misgivings and
doubts.
"She is too goofi for me," he con
stantly repeated to himself "she can
not love me, surely I What commun
ion can there be between my battered
middle age and her glorious youth. ?"
And yet. if Cecil did not love him,
she had the art to appear to do so. The
bright blushing face, the conscious eye,
the earnest candid brow on which truth
seemed to sit, bad each and all the
same inexpressibly charming tale for
him. He could have staked his life upon
her truth. He carried bliss away with
him in the slightest pressure of her hand,
and discovered volumes of meaning in
her every word and look. One thing
only disquieted him she would fix no
time for their mania je. At hist he re
solved to go to Edinburgh on purpose to
urge her to do so. but he laueu in an
his arguments. Marry him at once she
would not ; but perhaps m ine spring
she might. With this hope he was fain
to be content, and bade her good-bye.
with the intention, as he toia ner, oi
going back to uocnara lmmeuiaieiy.
when, by an unexpected piece oi dusi-
ness, he was detained beyond the time
when the coach left a detention wuicu
he regretted the less because on the
morrow he would have Frank's com
pany home wards, the young officer 'lay
ing agreed to spend Christmas In his
early norne.
It was getting late before his business
was despatched ; but he cared the less
tor that as Cecil, he knew, had an en
gasrement. He could not see her, but
ue mignt at least pass ner father's house,
and look up to her windows. Nothing
imuoweu uy iove ana ner coma be n
dinerent to him.
crossing to the other side of the
square, he walked slowly away under
the tall shadow of the trees in the rar-
dens, blessing Cecil from the depths of
his own true fervent nature, when, as
ue was iassing unuer tlie last elm, he
suuueiuy paused.
w hat was that beneath Its spreading
boughs ?
A sight often enough to be seen all
the world over only a pair of lovers so
absorbed in each other that thev
never noticed him at all nothing surelv
to make his heart stand still with such
a choking sense of suffocation ? If the
pair iietore him had been only a simple
scotch lassie and Lid, he would have
passed by them with a muttered bless
ing ; but there was something strangely
familiar in the man's fine athletic form
and in the woman's supple undulating
grace of figure. In spite of himself.
lie stood still, lascinated, half mistrust
ing his own senses, and looked at them,
They were talking eagerly in low-
tones, and once the girl's lover held her
close to him aud kissed her several times
unresisted. He t ok a step nearer to
them then, and strained his eyes in the
uncertain light. He would "fain have
disbelieved their evidence if he could
but there was no delusion, no mistake
they were servmg him as truly as they
had ever done, it was Cecil who stood
before liim, his trusted, idolized, pretty
Cecil ; and the man beside her was the
boy he had reared, for whom he bad de
nied himself many things, his half-bro-
uier r rank I
For a moment the foul treachery and
ingratitude of the thing stunned him.
He cou d not move : he leaned luck
against the wall dizzy, bewildered,heart
sick. Then there was a rustle of silk,
aud something swept last him quickly.
He looked up, aud there she was, still
unconscious ot his presence, gliding
way towards her father's door with
her rapid noiseless step. Whither her
companion went he did not notice ; he
had eyes only for her, feeling as he
watched her disappear that he would
never see her again. When the door
closed, and his mute farewell was taken
he was conscious of a sharp paiD, as of
a knife running into his breast, succeed
ed bv a strange benumbed feeling, as i
the blood wtiicn bad lately been throb
bing so fiercely rouud his heart were
freezing into ice in his veins.
An hour passed, aud found him still
leaning there, not fuming in angry in
dignation over the treacherous wron;
that had been done him, but taking to
it very quietly aud naturally, as if, af
ter all. it were just what might have
been exiected. Why should he, in the
sere and vellow leaf of life s autumn,
exiect to pluck the flowers of its spring?
l outh hail only viudicited its rights,
It was a good joke, a laughable little
comedy m real hie ; but it broke all the
same a tender simple heart. Shrinking,
isolated from his yout upwards, he had
no pride to fall back upon to salve his
bleeding wound. Alone in the world
now that r rauk had proved untrue to
him, he had no human sympathy on
which to lean. He had felt happier,
prouder, since he knew Cecil loved him
than he had ever felt before ; and no
that love was gone, crumbled into
ashes, and nothing remained to him but
tlie shreds aud tatters of his shattered
happiness.
At last a cab rattling past in the
street aroused him, and, mechanically
w rapping his plaid closer around him,
he turned aud went home to his lodg
ings, feeling so weak, so ill, so old, that
ie seemed to himself te have lived
twenty years in that bitter hour.
In the long sleepless night that fol
lowed his resolution was taken.
"Fool that I liave been," he muttered.
"to think that my money or lands could
buy me a young heart ! lie shall still
be happy, though, if her fickle love can
make him so : lie shall never even know
that he has come between me and all
that makes life sweet or dear."
In the simple honesty of his heart,
while still happy in Cecil s love, he had
planned a surprise for his brother,
which should at once atone to Frank
for the loss of liochard and set him
straight with his own conscience. He
had bought for him the adjacent prop
erty of Kinsuart, and he had intended
to present him with the title-deeds of
nis new estate cn this proposed Christ
mas visit of the young soldierto liochard.
He had intended also at the same time
1 1 break to him the news of his ap
proaching Marriage, Xow it seemed to
him that what he bad to do was to
smooth away the obstacles to Frank's.
"Poor Frank I" he thought. "He is
a careless creature. He is not extrava
gant, but he sends a great deal some
how. He will never become independ
ent of me in that respect at least ; and
it will comfort me to know that I shall
still be necessary to him, even in his
happiness. And she I can almost for
give her her treachery when I think
that she will make it all up to my boy."
This resolution William liochard
kept, supreme as was the effort which it
cost him ; but with all his mastery over
himself he could not be quite tlie same
to Frank. He was silent and con
strained during their journey to the
North ; and the younger brother, who
was guiltless of all intentional offence
towards him, and who did not even
know that the pretty coquette with
whom he flirted was engaged to any
one, noticed the dinerence, and, in bis
pettish wav.resented it. llliam seemed
to him more stupid and dull than usual;
and, after one or two attempts at con
versation, lie left him to his uumor,and
did not once sieak to him, as he re
membered afterwards with a sore heart,
until they had left the coach and were
trudging t igether over the moors to
wards liochard
Tlie day had been intensely cold, and
the evening closed in thick and misty
around the travelers as they turned into
the moorland road, every foot of which
they knew as well as the familiar gar
den at liochard. For some time they
traveled on, as they had previously done,
in silence, walking quickly, but not so
quickly as to escape me garnering uigni.
which was upon them before they were
aware. Witu it came snow, railing
thickly, pitilessly, bliudingly, as if in
tent on burying all things alive or dead
beneath its icy shroud. Then Frank
became confused, uncertain, positive
only of one thtng,th.U they had some
how missed the road, and were walking
on as fast as they could to certain de
struction. He seized his brother's arm
and shook It almost fiercely.
WilL Will," he cried, in his excite
ment, "cannot you wake np f Is this
a time for dreaming? We have taker
the wrong road I"
"I think not," said the elder brother
slowly; "but "
"This Is not a time for 'buts' I I tell
you we are wrong. If you care nothing
for your own life and I don't think
you do mine is precious,! can tell you
to others beside myself."
"1 know it," said the elder man hum
bly ; "so do you lead, Frank."
Frank waited for no more, but set off
with tong strides through the ever-accu
mulating snow, which, filling the air
with a soft hurtling sound, seemed to
hem them in closer and closer with a
worse than Egyptian darkness. Then
the ground beneath them grew all of a
sudden boggy ana soft; and, with
despairing cry, Frank threw up his
arms over his head and sank down ut
terly exhausted.
Quick and ardent in all things.he had
not uie endurance, either mental or
physical, of his elder brother. If there
was something of the sweetness, there
was also something of the weakness of
bis mother in him ; and he showed it
now by breaking down eutirely.by turns
reproaching himself and upbraiding his
Drotner lor yielding to him, and then
weeping like a ctiild.
"We must move we must walk for
bare life!" said the Laird. "Come,
Frank 1"
Dreary, dreary work It was ; the slow
fatiguing motion scarcely kept them
from freezing, aud the bitter wind .driv
ing right into their faces, seemed to
bite into their very bones, till every
nerve ana smew apiieared to start and
swell and then contract into rigid numb
ness.
"I am one lump of ice," at last
groaned Frank, "and so tired,so sleepy.
v unam, I can go no farther ; I must
lie down and sleep, if it is only for a
minute."
"Keep up, Frank, for the sake of
dear life, only a few minutes longer.
We are on the road again, I kuow 1
am sure of it Keep up for Cecil's
sake."
"For Cecil's sake ?" said the younger
brother drowsily. "Pretty Cecil I Who
told you aliout her. Will V Nay, don't
bother it's not a bit or use. I must
and will sleep, but only for Sve minutes.
I must," he went on, in a dogged, reso
lute tone.
"At least wrap my plaid round von."
said the elder brother, recognizing the
nope.essness or struggling any longer
with the obstinacy induced by suffer
ing.
"I am too tired," rejoined the young
er, in a drowsy lethargic tone "onlv
let me sleep Five miuutes will make
a new man of me. Put the plaid closer
round nie. Ah, that is so nice ! After
all. Will, there is no place for comfort
like home."
Alreadv half asleep, he was dreaming
that he was in their common room at
Rnchard. while the Laird, bending over
him with all a mother s care, wrapped
him tenderly in the plaid and great-coat
of which he denuded himself.
I promised her, long ago, to take
care or you, dear lad," he muttered.
"and I will to the last : and Cecit too
she will one day bless me for this. And
now good-bye, my own boy !" and he
lightly kissed the sleeper's brow, who
moved uneasily at the touch of his lips.
"Whv won't you let me sleep. Will ?
It is unkind of vou I ' he murmured.
To this petulant appeal the Laird
made no reply. He knew now where
he was ; and his whole soul, every fac
ulty or his being, was absorbed in one
supreme desire to reach, if possible, a
cottage occupied by an nnder-game-
keeper of hisown, winch lay, lie thought,
in an adjacent hollow. It wxs but a
little way off, and, warmly covered as
Frank w as, be could reach it, he thought,
in time to save his life.
He had gone only a very short way
Indeed when he was overpowered by
sensation of extreme fatigue, and theu
the fatal, deadly, irresistible sleep be
gan to steal over him, struggle as he
would. He felt that he had no time to
lose, and, almost despairingly, he began
to shout wildly. Terrible anguish-laden
shouts they were, which reverberated
through the snow-filled air : but there
was no answer save the pitiless mock
ing echo, and, thinly clothed as he was,
he was dying fast. Gathering up all
his strength, he uttered one long last
walling cry of distress.
It was answered, but he did not
know it. or at least it could only be con
jectured that he did by the sweet bright
smile that rested on his dead lips when
he was found on the hillside the next
morning. Help was coming ; but it
came, not to nim. Due to t rank, w ho
was found asleep, but still alive, under
the pile of clothes beside tlie clump of
whin. A few minutes more, and the
rescuers would have been too late even
for him. As it was, they had much ado
in restoring him to life ; and, when they
succeeded at la$t, the first question he
asked was "V here is V ill r"
No one had seen the Laird, no one
knew where he was ; and, although the
search was immediately resumed and
continued all night, it was not until the
next morning that he was found, cold
and stiff, with his smiliug face upturn
ed to the chill gray sky.
As for Frank liochard, he recovered
altogether from his terrible exposure ;
but, as if the mantle ot nis dying bro
ther's self-denying, self-respecting spirit
had fallen upon him, he became from
that memorable night an altered man.
The luxurious self-indulgent life that
he had led had no longer any charms
for him, nor had indeed the pretty Ce
cil either.
"I am William Kochard's brother,"
was all the explanation he made to her
with resjtect to his altered manner.
The stlf-convlcted coquette felt that
it was enough, and made no effort to
win him back : but she regretted him
often and bitterly when, glancing over
the Indian news, she read from time to
time of brilliant deeds achieved and
military honors won by the man she
had betrayed into seeming ingratitude
to his best friend.
Colonel II chard Campbell has never
married ; and pretty Cecil, who has
been twice a widow, has somehow con
trived to induce her own immediate
circle of friends to believe that tins
strange celibacy is owing to an early
cruelty on her part.
Mingling in the same society, they
meet sometimes; and her friends are
fond of alleging behind her back, of
course that Cecil has tried very hard
indeed to atone for what she represents
as that fatal early "No." In vain ;
the Colonel never sees her without
seeming to see also the calm dead face
of bis elder brother, as it lay on the
moor on that snowy morning, smiling
up into the bitter sky, and the past.
over which she would fain trip again so
lightly, becomes a shuddering impossi
bility to him.
Never dispute with a woman.
MjtrriM of lrlnc
A Royal lady able to marry the man
of her choice is, except In isolated and
accidental cases, almost a feature of
modern times. The Princess of ancient
and mediaeval times was, as she still is
in uncivilized countries, a species of
State victim, who might be seized and
immolated at any moment on the altar
f emergency. She was a useful chat
tel, whom Royal fathers and brothers
disosed of as might seem best snited to
their own interests. The magnitude of
these latter has given an extraordinary
importance to the history of Royal mar
riages. The fate of nations hai again
and again been made or modified or
marred by their occurrence. The union
of the French and Christian Princess
Rortha with Ethelbert King of Kent
probably did more than any other sin
gle circumstance to fiicilitate the intro
duction of Christianity into these is
lands. There can be no doubt that the
strong feelings of Queen Henrietta
Maria for her own Church contributed
in no small degree to the misfortunes
of Charles I. Unless Mary of Burgun
dy and Joanna of Castile had linked
their splendid fortunes with the destin
ies of the House of Hapshurg, the face
of Europe would in all probability have
been completely changed. Henry VII.
is constantly referred to as a master of
"kingcraft," and he certainly displayed
it nowhere so conspicuously as in the
matrimonial disiosition of his family.
The Priuce of Wales was united to his
brother's elderly widow simply because
she was an Infanta of Spain with a
large and paid-up dowry. The Princess
Margaret was conveniently disixised of
to the King of Scotland, and the voung
Princess Mary, who might fairlv have
hojied to escaie owing to her father's
death, was contracted by her brother
to the ag.-d aud moribund King of
Fiance. The consequences in all three
cases were perfectly natural. The
Princesses both survived their kingly
spouses, and gratified themselves by
marrying noblemen or their own choos
ing. Henry himself embarked on that
strange course of matrimoui.il dissipa
tion, which was the scandal of hi3 own
and has been the wonder or all succeed
ing ages. Mary of Scotland was of
course one of the greatest prizes ever
offered in the marriage market. The
English made war to obtain her hand
for their Priuce. The French procur
ed it merelv owinz tj the anirer thus
inspired. The unhappy list of her sub
sequent suitors, and their varied but
always violent ends, scarcely needs to
oe recapitulated. Perhaps the most
magnificent fortune which in modern
times has resulted from a Royal mar
riage was that which befell the House
of Hauover. Little did the Elector of
Hanover think when he took the Prin
cess Sophia from the modest German
Court of her father that she brought
w-itn her the crowns or three kingdoms.
Vet so it was, and the present Sovereign
of England wears them as her direct
successor.
Sou;; ft.
It Is said that songs are the index of
society
iuey leua.mosi, as mucu a?;
b.ioUs. Those of tender sentiment and
melody have now the run. Emmett's
songs are popular, such as 'Sweet Vio-
lpts' and 'Lullaby;' and so are Frank
Howard's 'Only a Pansy Blossom' anil
'When the Robins Nest Again.' A
Warrior Bold ' by the same author as
'Flee as a Bird to The Mountain' and
'Nancy Lee,' is having a run. 'For
ever and Forever,' by Tosti, one of the
most popular of comiiosers, keeiis going
the rouuds, and his 'Dream of Love,'
which was introduced into The Beggar
Student' by Miss Jansen. Is lieing much
sung. Pinsuti's 'I fear No Foe' is pop
ular, especially for Baritones, and his
old song, 'I Iove My lAve' keeis going
somehow. 'Bride Bells' is the best of
lioeckel's aud the prolific Berthold
Tours h:is turned out many new ones.
'Angels at the W indow,' 'Because of
Thee,' of his old ones, aud 'The New
Kingdom ' one or his latest, are the
best. Mr. Welling's 'Dreaming' prom
ises to be as Kipular as 'Some Day.'
Sir Arthur Sullivan has several, as for
instance, 'My Dearest Heart,' 'Birds
in the Night,' Iet Me Dream Again'
aud 'Looking Back,' which have be
come iivals of 'The Lost Chord' and
'Once Again. Almost as many ask
now for Gounod's 'Adore and be Still'
as used to ask for fits 'Ave .Maria.'
There is also a popular new song of his.
'The Worker,' and there are few songs
now more widely sung than There is a
Green Hill Far Away.' Edward Las
sen's 'Thine Eve so Blue and Tender'
and 'Ah, 'Tis a" Dream;' C. A. White's
'When the Leaves liegiu to 1 urn;' J.
W. Bischoff s Take Me, Jamie, Dear,'
'Supposing,' 'What Shall I Do?' and
My Love's a Rover,' sun? by Annie
1 ix ley, are among the recent and tak
ing songs of the day. Molloy's 'King's
Highway' is his greatest success, aud
among our Philadelphia composers there
are two songs, 'Oh, fay, .My Love,' and
The Wair,' by Mr. Hawley, which
compare well m every way with those
of English writers who are considered
the best. But really good new songs
are as scarce as other first-class produc
tions."
Vhe I'eeajr of Manners.
With the departure of the stately
graces and formal politeness of the old
school from society, weut several social
arts which have hardly been replaced
by any modern accomplishments. To
urn a compliment neatly, to hand a
ady to her carriage, or assist her to
mount her horse gracefully, to tell a
good story, or to read well a poem to a
room full of cultivated listeners, are
among the arts not lost, perhaps, but
certainly mislaid in these piping, active
times of ours.
It was considered essential in our
grandfathers' days that the young men
should be taught these graceful noth
ings and arts of a polite education, the
education of a gentleman; and those of
us who have had the good fortune to
kuow a survivor of that well-bred gen
eration have been charmed, perhaps,
with that ease of manner, and courte
ous consideration for the feelings of
others, which are as rare now as a rich
family heirloom or real antiques. To
rise a step higher, the art of conversa
tion, how uncommon it is! How few
men, even of abundant leisure, care to
cultivate the talents required to make
a good talker; to refine the voice and
tlie manner of using it; to read dis
criminately; to polish the stock in trade
of language, and add to it with taste
and care. Verily the telegraph and
telephone are making of us mere auto
mata, which jerk out certain syllables
and infinitum, the secret of their mo
tion consisting simply in winding them
np periodically.
' "
Brazil's navy consists of 30C0 men
and SO vessels. 1
"Bloooy Kill, tha Tarror."
"Wlioop-la, whoop!" thundered a
hairy, herculean, heavily-armed terror
of terrible fellows, as he kicked open
the rickety door of the "Frontier
Saloon." and glanced threateningly
upon the quiet crowd within. With a
defiant swagger, and many horrible
oaths, he advanced to the bar and said:
"How's biz ter-day. Toddyman?"
"Hull, Bill, dull. Can't yer he'p me
out?"
"Of co'se I can an' will," answered
the terror.
Turning, he called out to the loafers
scattered about the room:
"Come up hyer, come up, yer d
coyotesl an' treat yo'se'fs, an' me too,
at yo' own expense. That's right," he
continued, as the ten or twelve persons
addressed sprang nimbly from their
keg perches and smilingly expressed
their willingness to accept any invita
tion, however worded, the said terror
might extend.
"Hump erlong, ! an' fn a
hurry," he growled savagely as he noted
one solitary exception to the unanimity
of the acceptances, "or, by the crook of
my elbow, I'll hurt yer; hurt yer bad."
The single exception, however, quiet
ly retained his seat, and neither by
gesture nor speech did he show the
slightest consciousness of the presence
and the language of the most famous
and infamous, desperate, and dreaded
devil that had ever frightened a western
sheriff into temporary civility.
Great was our terror's am zement,
and greater his wrath, when ho bname
convinced that it was actually the in
tention of the rash stranger to ignore
himand his mandatory invitation. With
huge, self-acting revolver in hand, he
j started toward him. As he approached
nearer, the silent unknown uncoiled his
long legs and extended himself gradu
ally upward, and upward, and upward,
until at l.ist he presented to our aston
ished vision the towering form of the
tallest aud thinnest mortal we had ever
seen.
When within two or three feet of him
the terror paused and said: "I give yer
tu understan' that I'm Bloody Bill
the terror of sherrufs an' the pattern
saint ot undertakers. D'yer hear mer
"Oh, yes; I'm not deaf," was the
reply, in a cool, steady voice.
'An' I'm the favorite and the rival
of de'th and dockters," continued the
desperado.
"First-rate record, that," was the ap
proving reply.
"I'm a jumping Jumbo I'm the very
fe ther that broke the canipliell s back
I'm a Texas steer stampeded I'm a
cuniel straight lrom Arkinuiw an'.
yer! look out, fur I'm goin
ter shoot!" Simultaneously with the
elevation of the revolver, the stringer's
foot flew forward and upward, the liall
meant for his heart went crashing
harmlessly through the roof and then.
witn a rapidity of movement that gave
to his russet brogan ihe appearance of a
chunk of lightning in a mighty hurry
he kicked Bloody Bill tinder the chin.
tiehiud the ear, in the stomach, in the
1 1 ' i ' L' nn t fin i,:n ...ih aha r.r
imd then the other and so effectually
too, that the astonished and thoroughly
shocked man-eater found it impossible
to use a single one of the half-dozen
weapons attached to his belt. But the
terror was really brave, and he strug
gled pluckily to uphold aud preserve the
sanguinary reputation so dear and pro-
ntabie to lum, until his slim and supple
antagonist finally terminated the tight
by a double-footed kick that stretched
Bloody Bill prone and breathless upon
rue nooi.
"When restored to consciousness he
approached the great uuknown and
said:
"Fur ,he las' but. fust, what shah I
call yer? Uener I dook prisidmt.' '
"Plain mister," said the other.
"What! Yer a plain mister!" ex
claimed the terror, incrdulously
"Jussc"
"All right, all right, sence you say so;
yer deserv promoshun. Now, mister,
fur sum years I've tnot I was a whole
menag'ry in myself lyon, elefiut, wulf,
an' all that but I'll lie darned ef hit
don't look tei. day like I'd been runnm'
a two-bit sideshow all erlong. Ef ar
greeyble, sit, I'd like tu l'aru who an
what yer air."
"I," replied the stranger, in u deep,
grave voice, "am the Givat Amerikin
Mule."
"Then, God be thanked, gasped the
trembling terror, " that yer didn't have
on yer rrun shoes:"
In relation to the rupture between
Prince Napoleon and his son Prince
ictor, the truth is that Prince Na
poleon, intentioally r out of thought
lessness, allows i"rince V ictor the
almost ridiculous sum, fo one in his
position, of i;:it per annum for his
expenses. Prince Victor ve young, in
every sense of the word. He has nu
merous opportunities for amusement,
and he regrets tlie necessity of renoun
cing them. It is easy to understand
that an allowance of 7,5u0f. obliges a
young Prince to undergo perpetual pri
vations, and keeps him from the costly
pleasures of his habitual companions.
Prince Victor impatiently desiring the
means of lasting the life he longed for,
when Madame Auban Moet, the heir
ess of the houst, of Moet, of champagna
celebrity, died. This lady left a for
tune of C0,UOO,000f. to her husband;
but she provided in hei will that, if he
predeceased her, Prince Victor should
succeed to her fortune. She died; her
husband survived her. and succeeded to
her fortune. He felt, however, a kind
of scruple at taking everything, and
made, indirectly, overtures to Prince
Victor, with a view of presenting him
with what was a small part it is true,
of so immense a fortune, but was never
theless a considerable sum, for it
amounted to one or more millions of
francs. M. Aubane's intermediaries
then placed themselves in communica
tion with Prince Napoleon and Prince
Victor, in order to ascertain what steps
should be taken to carry out M. Au
ban 's intentions. The negotiations have
not yet led to any result.
But Prince Victor, with the impetu
osity of youth when a dream is near
realization, as soon as he knew what
was going on, and learned from friends,
anxious to give him the good news,
that he was about to become possessed
of a considerable fortune tor a young
man, hurried to one of his intimites,
who happened to have a young man's
lodging to let, and, as if the millions
were at his command, wished to choose
these apartments. This is the whole
tory. Contrary to what has been said,
there have thus far been only negotia
tions, nothing as y et being settled. M.
Auban is still master of 'his whole for-
tune, and there is nothing to show that
an arrangement will be made.
It is evident that a Prince cannot
accept a revocable annuity from a prl
vate person, who at any moment might
lay down conditions, and oblige tne
possible Pretender to subordinate his
political acts to the will of the donor.
It may therefore happen, although it
seems improbable, that the gift will not
be carried out, and that Prince Victor
will still be confined to hw i.:JO a year
and condemned to live with his father.
and to renounce his pretty dream of an
independent home, where he could do
the honors and receive whom he pleased.
Prince Napoleon will certiiinly not
show any disposition, to increase his
son's allowance, after the outcry which
has been made almut the projected sepa
ration from the latter.
As to the question of whether or not
there are jKilitical differences lietween
the father and the son. such differen
ces do exist. Prince Victor does not
share the tendencies of his father: and
he especially objects to Prince Napoleon
leaning everso little toward the Repub
lic. In fact it has been pointed out
to him that a man is something when
he is t'ie sou of a Emjieror, or even of a
Pretender: but that the son of a Presi
dent of the Republic is simply the son
of his father, and nothing more. He
therefore certainly disanproves of his
father's democratic policy, and when,
some time ago, he was shown Prince
Naiioleons letter, in which the latter in
a fashion recognized the Republic,
Prince Victor said. "It might have
been worse" a characteristic utter
ance, showing that the fuJier's policy
is not approved by the son, but that the
son is very much shocked or alarmed
by the parental opinion. I am convin
ced in fact, that at preseut politics are
not the ruling preoccupation ot tne
young Prince, and that he would will
ingly let Ins father compromise the lm-
Ienal policy, on condition of being
permitted to live accjrdinj to his taste.
which at present is for th gaieties of
youth.
A Burglar- Lot MaklnK.
A San Francisco correspondent
writes, it has often been said that noth
ing save business success and money
constitutes a claim to social recognition
on this coast; as, even with such illus
trations of that fact as the Sharon trial
before them, our Eastern friends can
hardly understand how absolute said
rule is here, we can hardly expect the
following perfectly true incident to be
believed out of our own Sta'e:
One night not long ago the daughter
of one ot our best citizens was awaken
ed by a noise in her room, and UHn
sitting up dijcoveretl a man disguised
in a black mask standing beside her
bed and calmly contemplating her fea
tures by the aid of a bull's eye lantern.
'"Don't be alarmed, miss," he said,
"I haven't Liken anything yet."
"Bless mei'' said "the girl; "I do be
lieve it's a burglar."
'Of course it is," said the house
breaker with an ungratifying smile as
he lit a cigarette, "and I'm proud of
it."
"What do you want," demanded the
young lady.
"Well, I did want to sample your
jewelry case," said the roblier, "but
you looked so all-fired pretty lying
there with your auburn hair just my
style and 1 couldn't help waking you
to see if you also had dark eyes. I am
terribly fond of light hair aud dark
eyes myself."
"Well, I have," said the young lady,
glancing at the mirror. "But I must
look like a fright in this this dress."
"On the contrary, white is becoming
to you," said the disciple of Jimmy
Hope, tenderly. "By the way, are you
engaged?"
"That's telling," said the girl.
"No, but are you honest Injun?
Well, yes I am to a young lawyer:
but I don't care for him so very much."
"He's poor, isn't he?"
"Oh, awrully."
"Exactly; I thought a? much. Now,
my dear girl, don't you know there is
nothing in this love-in-a-cottage busi
ness? Vou don't want to peg along
nursing babies in some stuffy back
room for the next ten years, do you?"
"N'-o-o-o," murmured the girl.
"Then why not let this fellow slide
and take me? I'm pretty comfortably
fixed. Business has been pretty good
this season, and our profits are large.
Our firm is now running a tunnel under
a bank, and I've got a fourth interest.
Besides, I'm Secretary of the Burglar's
Protective Association. What d'yer
say?"
"Could u t we go abroad next sum
mer?" asked the girl thoughtfully.
" Why certainly. I expect to have to.
Just think over the matter, and I'll
drop in some night later in the week.
I know how to get in." And, should
ering his kit, the Secretary stepped out
of the window and went off to oiien a
jewelry store foi an engagement ring.
And the next day the young lawyer.
received back his let' era aud photo
graph. Ifttnuinse.
The Isthmuses of the globe have long
since received notice to quit. Engin
eers look uon every remaining neck of
land as only affording a fine opportunity
for tenting their skill. The Isthmus of
Suez was cut through long ago; the
Isthmus of Panama is undergoing the
operation, and now an attack is to be
made upon the Isthmus of Corinth.
But the supply of isthmuses is growing
short and engineering opacity and am
bition are now turning to peninsulas
for the exercise of these qualities. A
project has been recently launched for
digging a canal from the Atlantic to
the Mediterranean, converting Spain
and the adj.icent portions of France in
to an island. It would seem that engin
eers have laid down a principle that
all ends of continent mistook their
vocation when they did not emerge iu
the shape of islands. Perhaps the birth
of this modern idea is to be attributed
to general Butler, who, during the war,
cut a ship canal at Dutch Gap, on the
James River, in the face of hostile
batteries, thus shortening by many
miles the navigation or that tortuous
stream and conferring a las-.ing benefit
upon all sorts of vessels that ply on its
waters.
W lntrs In feajcland.
T here have len winters in England
milder than this last, exceptional as
that has been. In 12S2 so mild was the
season that the trees were covered with
leaves and birds built their nests and
hatched their young in the month of
February. In 153S the gardens were
bright with flowers in January. Neither
ice nor snow wa visible in ltVW, no
fires were Ut in 1G02, and the softness
of the weather in 1791. 1 -(07 aud 18i
was phenomen iL In 132U white blos
soms were to be seen on the trees in
March and oo the vines in April.
NEWS IN BRIEF.
Philadelphia boasts of 35,0 more
females than males.
A ladies' brass band is a musical
'eat u re of Albion, Mich.
S-juth Carolina h"s no less than
1508 flour, grist and rice mills.
Subscription s are being rai- ed to
build a crematory in Lancaster, Pa.
Nearly 200 divorce suits are calen
lered for trial in the Boston courts.
This year's cotton crop in the
South, Is figured at 5,7uu,0i)U bales.
English shooting-clubs have killed
'07.000 pigeons in the past five years.
Mile. Rhea played to 51,000 houses
in San Francisco every night last week.
San Antonio, Cal., has a law which
prohibits the blowing of steam whist
les. A nine mile wide swarm of locusts
is reported to be devastating Texmalca.
Mex.
The supply of spiritual consolation
for the English soldiers costs 5:i5,000
yearly.
Turkey imports aliout Sl.OOo.OoO
worth of petroleum from this country
annually.
Adirondack Murray is said to be
keeping a second-rate restaurant in
Montreal.
Women can be, and many of them
are, notaries public in the Slate ot
New lork
The Crown Piinces of Prussia
has a necklace of thirteen pearls which
coshi $'J3,000.
Finds of precious stones, near
Waukesha, are reported by S. S. Bovn-
ton, of Milwaukee.
New York has now 107.3O0 build-
Ines, and is Increasing the number at
the rate of 2000 a year.
In Washington county N. V..
potatoes have been selling at 20 cents
Ier bushel to the starch mills.
Distillation and the various kind
ed processes were introduced mt.i
ngland by the Moors about 11"A.
The first statute forbidding clergy
men to hold more than one lenetice is
dated in the reign of Henry VIII.
The total number of serarate farm
n the United States is 4,o0 and
their aggregate value is 5W,Uuo.uo0,
J00. In Ireland, several of whose coun
ties possess superior coal and iron, there
is some talk of a n-vival of the iron
trade.
The English and German syndicate
has purchased l,0Ub,mK), acres of Jand
n j lor:da, and will divide it up into
small farms.
The famous Flat Rock Spring, at
aratoga, which disapieared a'oout 2-1
years ago, Is said to have again com
menced to bubble.
Count Tolstoi is credited with hav
ing begun a reform in Russian prisons
that will make them more like those of
other European States.
The Coliseum was consecrated in
17"0 by Benedict XIV.. in honor ol
the early Christian m;irtvrs who had
died for the faith within its walls.
Of the 2,.TOO,000,OUO francs voted
y the French government f-r extra
ordinary war exjienses siuce 171 no less
than li'J0,0U0,0uo remain undisbursed.
An average day's work for a tele
graph operator is the sending of 500
average messages, and to do this r
quires about 300,000 distinct motions.
The French ministry asks for a
credit of 38.000.O0O francs on account
of theTonquin expedition and or 4.
500,000 on account of the Madagascar
affair.
New York stands Cist iu the list
of beer brewing cities in ioiut oi
quantity produced, Philadelphia comes
next, 5t. Louis third aud Milwaukee
fourth.
Daniel Burkett. of Big Creek Gan.
East Tennessee. l'J years old. 30 pound;
in wehjht, and 18 inches high, rises, up
to take the places vacated bv poor little
Tom.
News dealers in Vustin. Texas.
have agreed to discontinue the sale of
certain New York publications that
they deemed detrimental to public
morals.
Euclid flourished about 300 B. C.
The "Elements" are not wholly Lis,
for they contain demonstrations taken
from Thales, Pythagoras. Eudoxas and
otheis.
Statistics recently issued hv tin
Dutch Government show that an area
of at least 92,000 acres has been recov
ered from the sea during the last three
centuries.
Delaware and Maryland promis
0,1)00,000 baskets of peaches this sum-
.ueiaware win also have 1,500,0m.
quarts or strawberries a day to
during the seasou.
?lar
Philadelphia has the name of charg
ing the biggest commercial traveler
tax (300) known to the country; but
it is not a very important source ol
revenue for all that.
1SS3 California produced 2.C1V1.C0C
pounds of dried fruits, besides 125.UOV
boxes of raisins, 20 pouuds to the box.
70U0,0M) pounds of almonds, and 500,-.
OuO pounds of walnuts.
The cost of railroad ties used
every seven years in the United States,
according to a statement made before
the Forestry Congress, is not far from
fifteen million dollars.
The municipality of Rome h;is re
fused to give to the Minister of Publit
Instruction the Convent of the Car
thusians. The Government wanted tht
convent for a sculpture museum.
The changes of level of the Caspian
puzzle, geographers. It has risen and
fallen at irregular intervals since 1870.
but was 10 leet lower in 180 than in
1-870. In 1882 it was luj inches highei
than in 1830.
The first regiment of dragoons was
raised in England in 108L The nam
is supposed to be derived from "dra
gon," because mounted the soldiej
'with lighted match seetnetu like a
Gery dragon."
Cinnamon, a species of laurel, is
mentioned among the perfumes of the
sanctuary (Exod. xxx. 23), H'Jl B. C.
It was found in the American forest
by Don Ulloa, 1730; was cultivated in
Jamaica and Dominica, 1788; and U
now grown m ejlon.
The statement of the United Statp
Treasurer shows gold, silver and Unit
ed States notes in the Treasury on 1st
June as follows: Gold coin and bullion.
5202,04,400, silver dollars and bullion,
5117,1)70,511; fractional silver coin,
$27.iil,378; United States notes, $53,
130,515. Total, 54o2.052.93O. Certi
ficates outstanding, gold, $59,013,0i0;
silver, $73,003,021; currency, $12.30
300.