iff If ' ' Jf ' If Cff
pF. SCHWEIER,
TEE C0I8T1T0TI0I THE UITOI AID TEE EXFOSOEKEBT 0? TEE LATB.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XL.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENN A.. WEDNESDAY. JANUA11Y 0, ISSG.
NO. 2.
Kocompi'n''
1, eiaa.'rroy-"lr was haunted
i"Softbedeath-bnnpngtime.
,Mfirtb irou'.d he shrouded in
iebeartot swo -mature, accordant
ITChi'. of a l.favcniier cnme.
tr -htlie jassiiC "f fragrance and beauty
Zl !o ot lb' a.'!) C" ''-n
JCsdrent of sere:,rss an. tempest,
t fcenM.- of dread W inter s sway;
i 1 dreamed 'mid the roses,
if-Vjperts faded away.
tWjnterentlimned in !-tern grandeur,
r ?rd tLe hisli placj of my dreams;
2ile "u.-b ! Ut r magical sceptre
IttBerea: Vendor 'hat eteam,)
,'nbe.ii'-' ' I tl'e heaau.ul forest,
It-i of pladucuiuji rtreatns.
iss fe-JfV.d with solace divine;
g 5;nc:rj'. tear La'in injr tie
5wr.:.r .
..i2iilil wi-'m :..- .itid ?isn;
UseraJel tl.e jr .u- -!i.i;i.ie I blessing,
Kot at"1 forev--riinTe, mine !
c! as with ";" " IrM J of stern Winter,
L -Jjte: our L'' e.iri!.iv close;
Wtf i 10 'b ,!r 1n lbe snRht,
louir vaiu!-l j".v ',f;!l' rose;
ii A tlv ""in i .e Miiuuiuns angelic,
biter aTtue Uiet wli.luiiujc tuui
T: l-'osd i :!i-' jlo.-y traa.se udent,
pn.j:ai. nt ot .m'ih.h sulilim.-;
hii t-r j a h'Mus give welcome
fri-m a. "! wsavenly Ciime;
t'lidrjirf Kt'-ruai duraiiou,
Fonl "Ii'iIim t. r ii c Lear:-wounds of tiinel
THE CHANCERY SUIT;
oi;
THE KEWAUD OF KINDNESS.
"I am really sorry that you still cher-shli-at
fool:sh project of going to Lon
don, (iervaise." .sa'd Paul Rand le, the
oily son of Mr. Handle, the principal
shelter of E:Jey, a small inland town,
jektoaad for notkiuz particular but
tif pr.nii:;ve n xions of its inhabitants.
Wut cm i.ave pat s'.icu an iaea into
warhead I cannot ira liiie; and bow
1 am to pet ' ii without you I dont
bow. AK-ve all, what is to become
of poor i:tt;e A;:ce Mellon?"
-I Uve said i..;hii:s to Alice about
itT?:,' ie;-lird GtTvalit;, '"but I have
c.'douut .s!.e vv .il see V.ie expediency of
ties'.el' wlii-ii I ex; lain it to ber."
'Tiya stie :i; b tn-.ire c":ear sigbted
ti.a 1 am,'f 1'anL "Weil, Gervaifle
vcu art- a st! :::.;.: lV'.:.i-.v,v he continued
'Ith"2!:t :.i v't-:e very fond of little
Alice, and i.iu : ii Sire golnj to leave
her and all Ua .niIi sotr.3 Quixotic no
iSOTof betteris.; your condition! If
tou love her ju iil remain where you
are, vii tvitet to put up with suctr
tlazsas fortu-e lias bestowed upon,
jou."
"Sy rather, if 1 love her I shall ex
ert oivself to t!ie utmost to obtain sncb
$ i position as I can proudly sk ber to
Sam," returned liervrase. "L love
Alice Melton as dearly &s it is possible
fotary man to love a woman; but if
eT'rti su.hjdeilu Tion
ie3from me as sitting passively down
to enjoy my love in poverty, they will
be mistaken.
'Well, old fellow, just as you like,"
said Paul. "0::ly take care that in your
all: ce Alice linds no other lover. Such
IIijks have occurred, you know, and
oayaain. For my parti don't see
ttat your chance of bettering yourself
is mucli more likely in London than
kre. Bcidei, Alice has always been
accustomed to work; and both your
eamiws put together won t lie so much
amis!"
"I have too much confidence in Alice
!o allow the po.-aibiiity of ber acting
tLus ever to enter my thoughts," said
Gervai.-, praveiy; '"but if for one mo
Bent I cculd allow that such a thing
was pcssille. it would not alter my re
solve. "Well, I shall say no more,,T return
etl Taul, 'though I i-hali still not de
sjalr i f your chaniu yiur mind aftei
Alice I&4 been made acquainted with
oour jitoject; probabiy her eloquence
willeCect what mine has failed to do."
Xotw;:'urUiidii;g the difference in
tleirfortui't's and natural dispositions,
Taul Kindle and Gervaise Newland
were lam friends of ion- standing. Taul
was a t'entlf'iianly young fellow of
taenty, itli a pleasant manner and
afids that g-ueraliy gained him the
good opinion of all with whom Le came
In ivit ict. Iiriiig an only child, he
had -vn con-i leiably petted and in
dulged tlio'.:.'!i with anparently little
evU l.suit; u., as r.ottiing had hither
to occurred to put his character to the
test, r.o certain judijemeut could be
proTiounced i:jin :t.
(iervaisf. who was t!ie elder by near
ly two years, posseised more physical
Rrewt.'i and vig..r, with jrhai less
HVrnal polish than his companion.
His great fascination, which few could
resat, lay iu t!ie giad tones of his ring
lag voice, and the pleasant Jovial ex
rressioa of his manly countenance.
About a ye.:r previously he had fallen
a love with the pretty little Alice Mel
ton, the mil'tr's daughter, and many a
ftniinine heart iu the neighborhood bad
envied her to the preference. Uncon
scious of this, though proud of his bou
love, Alice had gone Eteadily on,
struggling brave'v with the accumula
iog mis:urtun?s that had befallen her
ni!y. and doing her liest to relieve
taem by her dailv toil. As a climax to
4 long ussue of "niisf .rtuiies, Mr. Mel
ton had at last fallen sick, and been for
weg t;rne unable to attend to his mill.
a natural result, his rent had fallen
ttto arrears; and, to add to his distress
ha landioid, whu was an austere, bard
wane! man. threatened to turn him
"t of his cottage.
For son-.e months the miller's family
-ad Wn compelled to subsist entirely
on the earnings of Alice as a dressmaker
Mr. Melton was fa't regaining bis
j-Mlth; ailj ,f time coui(i oniy ve 0b-
ai:ied, would quickly regain his for
"wr position.
J itli true womanly delicacy, Alice
j'aa couceal-.il as much of this from her
'over as possible; and yet Gervaise knew
nough to make him feel anxious on
the subject. During one of his walks
Pay his accustomed visit, accompani-
S liis friend, the preceding conver
sion had taken place.
"There i3 that old fool, Master Nap
Ir. and his mare going down the lane
ad of his," said 1'aul Eandle, as
turned a corner. "I never see
j 'at old fellow without thinking of the
'na I used to make of him when I was
wy and went to school. What do
jou say, Gervaise, sliall we overtake
and have a bit of fun with him
nott?"
Gervaise glanced up quickly; a pain-
ttpression crossed his face a3 his
cttpamon spoice.
u a short distance in advance of the
men the bsnt and stooping form
aa aged man, whose white hair flow-,
w trom under the rim of hu hat, was
jogging along beside a little low cart,
laden with parcels and packages, and
drawn slowly by a little lame old mare,
blind of one or both eyes.
Before Gervaise had time to reply
they had overtaken the old man, who,
occupied with his own thoughts, bad
not noticed their approachine steps,
muffled as they were by the soft grass
growing on each side of the road. Stoop
ing down behind the old gray horse,
and giving vent to a ruly juvenile shout
of exultation, Paul Kindle dealt a pre
tended blow across the back of the
mare in true boyish style, and then ran
off, as if to escape punishment from
Master Napper's whip.
"Ay, ay, ye'd best get out o the way
or Master Napper's mare'll kick out at
ye!' excla uieu the poor old man in lu
dicrous alarm, folly persuaded that his
mare, which in his imagination was a
most spirited animal, would strongly
resent this insult to her dignity. "Take
care, boys, take care," be continued,
shaking his head, and looking round in
search of the supposed juveniles, with
out the slightest loss of temper, "I be
trreatly afeared ye'll come too close to
Master IN upper's mare one o' these
days. She'll be sure to kick out."
"Good evening. Master Napjier,"
said Gervaise, extending his hand to
wards the poor old man, whose simple
kindness of heart always prompted him
to consider the safety of his juvenile
tormentors. '"I hope I see you well to
day. Still busy at work I see," he con
tinued, offering what be knew was a
little harmless flattery to Master .Nap
per. "Blest my heart, Mr. Gervaise, it
beantyou, surely?" exclaimed the old
man. "Well, that be wonderful, truly.
Why, it was only a minute ago I was
thinking to myself that if 1 could only
see you, Mr. Gervaise, maybe you could
ease my mind o' something that troubles
it like just now."
Paul, who had finished his laugh at
Master Napper's expense, now came up
and, putting on a grave face, joined iu
the conversation.
t am sorry to hear that anything
should have occurred to trouble you.
Master Napper," replied Gervaise; "tell
me how I can be of service to you, and
trust me to do my best to oblige you."
" w ell, sir, maybo it's no great mat
ter after all," returned the man; "but
it's just this: Before I left my cottage
this morning, a gentleman called upon
me, asking a powerful lot o' questions
about where and when I was born, and
what were my parents' names, as well
as all about what I had done years ago
when 1 was young. A pleasant-spoken
gentleman he was, to be sure, and no
doubt a great scholar by the number o'
things be seemed to know; but for all
that, 1 feels a bit troubled like, for what
could be want wt' poor old Master JS ap-
per? I be always afraid o' lawyers since
they cheated me ont o' my little prop
erty ten years ago, saving your presence
thougti, young gentleman," he added
quickly, touching his har.
"Rnf: vhv fihnnli, Tftit firmrvMA thft
" " j f i 1
gentleman's business So hare any coij
necuou with law? asKju trervaise,
scarcely able to repress a smile.
"Because be asked so many questions
without telling me anything, Mr. Ger
vaise, and because I know a lawyer
pretty well by the looks o' him," was
the reply.
"I think you have little reason to
alarm yourself at present, even if he is
a lawyer," said Gervaise. "If this bus
iness is really anything concerning you.
Master Napper, I should be inclined to
think it must be agreeable rather than
otherwise. At all events if you see
anything further of your mysterious
visitor, just let me know."
"Thank you Mr. Gervaise," said the
old man brightening up. "If you think
it is all right, I shall feel less afraid on
the subject."
"By the way. Master Napper," said
Gervaise, "where did you come from
when you first cnie to Enley and set
up errand man?
"Why, bless ye, I used to be Squire
Tahee's head coachman. You know
ed Squire Fachee, didn't ye? .No!" be
ejticulated, in supnse, as Gervaise shook
his head. "Why, bles3 my heart, he
wa3 the greatest man in Chamley! A
terrible great man! and I lived with
him twenty year. I was bis head coach
man." "Did you, though?" said Gervaise,
repressing a smile. "You must have
been aa old and valued servant, Mas
ter Napper. Bat whD were your father
and mother? what liecame of them?"
"Well, Mr. GeiTaise. to the best o'
my belief, my father was a man o fam
ily and education at least, no I have
heard my uncle say. who brought me
up; but, through some law business,
his property wa3 kept away from him,
and he was always expecting to come in
for a terrible sight o' money. At last
he married my mother, who was only a
poor girl; but he didn't go on right, I
am sorry to say. lie took up with bad
ways, such as gambling and drinking;
but mv uncle, who was my mother's
brother, has often told me that he
thouzht It was all owing to the uncer
tainty o' this everlasting property that
was in some place what d'ye call it?
It be where the lawyers have put in
such a sight o' money, and never lets
it come out again."
"Was it Chancery?" asked Gervaise.
"Ah, I think that's it. sir!" exclaim
ed the old man. "See what it is to be
a scholar Mr. Gervaise.
So you cannot recollect your father,
Master Napper?" said Gervaise, bring-in--the
old man's scattered thoughts
back once more to the subject.
"No. Mr. Gervaise," he replied; "he
died, and mv mother too, when I was a
year or so old, and then I went to live
wl' my uncle, who brought me up to
farm work, and aiter that I went to
live wi' Squire Pachee."
Their paths diverging, the young
men parted company with Master Nap
per, the old man taking an affectionate
leave or Gervaise.
"Something has troubled you, Alice,
I am certain of it." said Gervaise, a
few days after making known to her
his intentionsof going to London. "Are
voii grieved at the idea of my leaving
"Enley? Cheer up, my love; a few years
will quickly pass away; and we shall
reap the reward ot -our present self-de-
nl"Xo Gervaise, it is not that which
ha3 troubled me," replied Alice. "I
feel that in going to Ixmdon to seek
votir fortune, you act righttand.though
i shall grieve to lose your society, I
shall love and honor you all the more
for the brave, manly spirit that prompts
vou to act thus. The cause of my sad
ness is very different from that.'
"But won't you confide in me Alicef
said her lover. "Is it anything connec
ted with your family affairs? Why.
dearest, should you shrink from my
knowing what it is that vexes you?
words and soothing ca
resses, Gervaise at length succeeded in
making himself acquainted with the
following circumstances.
"You know, Gervaise," she began,
"how long my father has been ill, and
as you may suppose, things have not
gone so well with us as we could wish
Among other unavoidable misfortunes
he has been unable to pay his rent. Mr.
Carter, my father's landlord, has re
fused to allow him the necessary time
to make up the money; and we have
len in dally dread of having the bai
liffs put into our cottage. This morn
ing a strange gentleman rode up to the
mill, and entered into conversation with
father respecting some of the oldest in
habitants of Euley. Finding my fa
ther well acquainted with the history of
the families round, he asked him a
great many questions, and at last re
quested my father's consent to allow
him to leave his horse in the stable
while he went to pay him a visit, lle-
ceivmg a ready consent, the stranger's
horse, a beautiful and valuable creat
ure, was quickly stabeled; and the
owner, after promising my father a
handsome reward if the horse was well
cared for, took his departure, lie had
not been gone long when Mr. Carter
himseU arrived, demanding his rent.
"Without heeding my father's prom
ise that the money should be paid in
a mouth, he went into the stable,
where seeing the stranger's torse, he
instantly seized it, and rode off with it
as a security for the money. In vain
we told him that the horse belonged to
a stranger.
" 'Pay me my rent,' eaid he, 'and you
can have the horse.'"
"You don't mean to say that he act
ually took the horse away with him,
Alice!" exclaimed Gervaise, in tur
pnse. "Indeed he did," replied Alice; "and
the terror we were in all day, of what
the stranger would say or do on his re
turn, is beyond description. At last
he came; and my father, in great trouble
went to meet him to tell him the whole
circumstance. I watched their con
ferencs from a distance, and could not
hear a word the stianger spoke, but to
my surprise he appeared more amused
than angry. At last after' listening to
what my father had to say, he hurried
him off with all speed in the direction
of Chamley. I almost fear, from their
long absence, that something terrible
must have occurted."
Soon after this conversation, to the
surprise of his wife and daughter, Mr.
Melton returned in excellent spii its.
"Cheer up wife!" he exclaimed, "our
troubles are over at last"
"The horse, father?" asked Alice,
"what of that? what does the gentle
man say to the loss of his horse?"
"Nothing very dreadful, my child,"
replied her father. Be has recovered
possession of it; and I fancy will make
ftne hard-hearted old Carter pay pretty
consideraby for hi3 morning's work.
On my stating the facts ot the case to
the gentleman, lie quietly heard me
through: and then directing me to ac
company him to Chamley, be placed the I
sum I owed Carter in my band, and dl-
residence, and pay the rent that was
owing, adding, that on no no account
was I to bring away the horse, but to
say after getting the receipt for the
money, that the horse belonged to a
gentleman who wa3 a perfect stranger
to me;and that to him be must account
for taking it.
"You would have been amused, Ger
vaise." coutinued Mr. Melton, "had
you seen the change in the manner of
Carter when I stated that my errand
was to pay the money.
" 'Now. Mr. Melton.' he siid. hand
ing me the receipt, 'I will send and
fetch your horse. Very fine animal.
Mr. Melton; very fine animal, indeed.'
' 'Don't trouble yourself, Mr. Carter
I beg,' I replied; 'my visit has nothing
whatever to do with the horse, which
as I told you this morning does not
belonz to ma. The owner of the am
mal is aware into whose bauds be has
fallen, and is prepared to seek satisfac
tion according to nis own juugmenu in
fact, I believe he is about to take out a
warrant of arrest against you on a
charsre of horse-stealing. So saying. I
prepared to qut the house.
"A most comical scene now ensued.
Finding himself caught in the meshes
of his own net, the old man entreated
me to take the horse, ibis I again re
fused to do.
"You are right, Mr Melton," said
Gervaise; "if ever a man deserved to
lose ill-gotten gains, that old Carter is
the man."
"Well, then, I believe he has gotten
some of his deserts this time," continu
ed the miller. "From what I could
make out, he was compelled to pay
down something like a hundred pjuud,
or be arrested as a horse-stealer, and
perhaps stand his trial, with the chance
of its turning out an ugly business in
the end. My rent is paid for the pres
ent; and the gentleman told me, that I
might repay it whenever I found my
self in a position to do so, without the
slightest Inconvenience to myself or
family. I must confess to a little bit
of Mother Eve's failing, though, for all
that." continued Mr. Melton; "lor tue
question of who or what this mysteri
ous stranger can be, has been running
through my head all the way home."
The miller was not singular in his cu
riosity respecting the arrival of the
stranger, who must have pursued a
systematic course of espionage over the
actions of all the inhabitants of Enley
during his stay, from the manor down
to Tom the baker's boy.
It would not be much exaggerated to
say that a huudred reports connected
with this unparalleled event were in
circulation, though all agreed in one
particular, namely, in making poor old
Master -Sapper, the err.ind man, the
second hero in the adventure, for every
body was forced to confess that the
stranger's visits and inquiries all ap
peared to tend principally towards him.
Nearly a year bad passed since Ger
vaise Newland had quitted his native
village, and as he sat in bis gloomy Lon
don lodging, gazing abstractedly on a
couple of open letters, bearing the En
ley postmark the thought oppressed him
heavily of bow little of Lis sanguine
hopes and expectations had been realiz
ed during this time.
Tbe prospect of being able to claim
his bride was, to say the least of it, still
rather distant, which was the more to
be regretted, as Alice bad lately lost ber
father, and was now without any pro
tection and companionship except that
of her mother, who would now be able
to take up a permanent residence with
her daughter. Added to all, there was
something in the tone of the letter Ger
vaise had just received from his old
friend Paul that troubled him.
"How fares your plans of wTnnitg
competency?" wrote Paul, sarcastically.
"Dont you think, to say the least of it
that your conduct towards little Alice
Melton is rather unjust? If you cannot
make up your mind to marry hex while
you are poor, why don't you relinquish
all claim to her? Surely you cannot ex
pect her to wait for you till her hair has
grown gray and her step feeble!. Some
one else might marry her if you cannot;
and Alice would, no doubt, rejoice at
being released from such an endless en
gagement." Choking down the great sob of agony
which, despite his manhood, would psr
sist in rising np into his throat, as be
resolved to write and release her from
her engagement, if she wished it, he
once more took up tho little note which
Alice had penned, and sought in it for
comfort and reassurance. Every sen
tenceevery word tended to shak) his
belief in the idea that she desired to re
voke her former vows of constancy.
"For all that," he soliloquized. "I
will put tho matter beyond doubt to
morrow by writing to her as I at firs'.
proposed, explaining- my rjotives, and
assuring her that I am slriTj-ji4,.n'eUt
and day, to win the success
alone render our uuiou pr
happy."
A letter! Bewildered ami
beholding the strange hat.
the superscription, Gervaiso .
his hand, on its being brought " to him
on the following morning. To his sur
prise, it evidently came from a stranger
it also bore the Enley postmark! It
was writteu in a clear, legal band, and
on opening it Gervaise read the follow
ing: "Mr. Gervaise Newland, I am desir
ed by my client, Mr. William Napper,
who is evidently approaching his end
very rapidly, to desire your presence as
soon as you can possibly reach Euley
Pardon tbe remark of a stranger, but I
should advise you to allow no business
whatever to prevent your complying
with this request."
Brief as it wai, it possessed a consid
erable amount cf mystification for Ger
vaise. Not for an ln3aiut did the idea,
of disregarding the pxir old man's dy-
ing request cross his mind. lie had al
ways entertained a sincere liking for
the poor old friend.
Leaving the train at the nearest sta
tion to his destination, he proceeded for
the rest of the way on foot. Though
anxious to solve the mystery that
bad brought him hither, be could n-.t
resist Ins temptation to pay a visit to
his beloved Alice, whose borne lay in
his road. Thinking of nothing else for
the moment but the surprise and pleas
ure she would doubtless express at this
unexpected appeaiance, he opened the
little rustic erate lu front cf the cottage,
and approached the door.
It was a pleasant autumn morning;
and the sun that was shining brightly.
rendered it warm and sumuierlike. The J
cottage door stood open as G rvaise Set
his foot on the threshold, a id voices
from within fell upon his ears.
"Listen to me. Alice," said a familiar
voice. "He does not love you as he pre
tends as I do, for instance or be could
not leave you so long."
It was Paul Rand e who spoke, and.
riveted to the spot witU srprwo as he
J recognized tbe voice, Gervai.- Newland
"Once mere Mr. Handle, I request
you not to speak in this way of Ger
vaise," said Alice: "he is absent, ana
unable to defend himself from the
charges you so often bring againt him,
for I should never think of mentioning
them in my letters to him. If, as you
say, he is false to me, I can only regret
it from my heart; but nothing you can
say will ever shake my contidence i:i
him. Were be a thousand timjs lost to
me, neither you nor any other could
ever supply his place."
"You think so now, Alice, because
you have not properly realized wh3i. I
told you," said Paul. "Wait a few
month3, and then you will think dif
ferently; you will listen willingly to mj
suit. Keflect on the advantage in a
pecuniary point of view that 1 have over
Gervaise Newland. He is poor, whilst
I, at least, compared with him, am rich.
I would make you a lady, while 03 his
wife your lot must be toil perhai
poverty."
-'Which, shared with him, would be
to me a thousandfold more preferable
than the greatest Fp'endor as tho wife
of th9 man whose mean, treacherous
soul can so traduce and malign his
absent friend!" exclaimed Alice. "Leave
Mr. Kandie, and never again offend me
by your un-wished-for presence!"
Recovering his presence of mind on
receiving this assurance of the constancy
of his beloved Alice, Gervaise entered
the cottage. Could this be his little,
patient, enduring Alice, he thought,
who stood there so proudly erect, her
form drawn haughtily up and quiver
ing with emotion.
With a start of surprise and shame
on beholding Gervaise, Paul attempted
to e.cape from the room.
"Yes," said Gervaise, addressing him
calmly, "go; I can afford to forgive you
the wrong you vainly strovo to do me.
Alice," he continued, turning towards
ber. "look on my accuser, ana ten me.
do you believe the charges, whatever
they are, which be has brought against
me. after beholding the expression cf
conscious guilt on his countenance?"
"Thank Heaven, you are Ftill good
and true," murmured the girl, as she
bid her face on the breast ot her lover,
whose strong arm had stolen about her
waist. "Ah, Gervaise, do not wrong
me so much as to suppose that I ever
believed you otherwise."
We will not linger over the explana
tion between the now happy lovers,
but merely state that, after a short in
terview. Gervaise resumed his walk
towards the residence of Master Nap-
P"-. . . .
The heart of uervaise saaaenea a3 ne
approached Napper's cottage.
Placing his hand on tbe latch, as was
his usual custom, Gervaise entered the
cottage. It boasted of but oae room,
which served tbe double purpose of par
lor and sleeping apartment. On the
bed lay the wasted form or the old man,
whom, a short time ago, he bad left iu
health and strength. His eyes were
closed, and his breath came short and
quick, while at the present moment he
seemed to sleep tranquilly. A stranger,
gentleman like and thoughtful-looking,
sat by his side, watching him atten
tively. On observing Gervaise he rose
noiselessly.
Mr. -Newland, I presume?" said the
stranger. "V ill you oblige me, sir, by
stepping outside for a few moments? 1
do not wish to disturb our patient,"
".Nol nol do not take him away now
that he is come," said a faint voice
from the bed. "Gervaise Mr. Gervaise
you listened to an old man's wishes;
and God in Heaven will reward you for
it. come close, s.r; come close, Mr,
Gervaise, you don't know how poor old
Master apper has longed to see tbe
light of yonr pleasant face, with its
kind smile. I am dying, sir, dying fast.
It has pleased God, yon see to call me.
"You are ill, 1 fear; very JIL indeed."
said Gervaise, approaching, and taking
tbe hand of the dying man kindly in his
own. "Have you long been thus?"
"Not lonz, Mr. Gervaise, not long."
to rcimeu; -ana it win soon be all over.
1 only desire one thing breath to tell
you the good news, that it will gladden
j'ur young nean to learn, lam an old
mio, Mr. Gervaise: my pilerlmaire has
been a long one; and, though no scholar
nave seen a powerful sight o' things
in my time. One thing I know, that
v bile all the boys shouted after and
f.'Xkoi at Master Napper and his blind
y'lJe, one there was who was ever ready
V.!th a helping hand when Master Nap
p?r had a heavy load; and who, in after
"tm, did not think It beyond his man
!'iou to visit the old man's humble cot
Ce, and soothe as far as in his power
s aecuning years."
v IIushl hush!" said Oervai3e, softly,
"these are trifles not worth remember-
inlr. My dear old friend, it was Uttlo I
fa u!d do tor you."
. .iuu uuu- Buuvveu me Kinaaess,
''II' 1 1 , 1 t ,
whilst others mocked and scorned me,"
'm the old man. "Ah, Mr. Gervaise,
.le I thought then It would ever be
. my power to return you anything but
crautuue. strange as it seems, l am
tow, (so this gentleman tells me) a rich
man. You recollect I told you once
ihat my father, poor soul, always ex
rected to get a terrible sight o' money
that was in Chancery. Well, be who
thought so much of it never got it.
while 1, who bardly know'd anything
about it, have got it at last. At all
events. Mr. Gervai3e, you'll know bet-
yr what to do with it than poor old
Master Napper: and I bless God for
your sake that He has sent it."
i "I!" exclaimed Gervaise, starting up
surprised. "Surely there must be some
mistake, sir." be added, addressing the
stranger, who was attentively regarding
t ie scene.
.No, not that I am aware or," was
t'ae reply. "My client here has been
lecently put into possesion of a very
handsome fortune by the Court ot
Chancery, which is perfectly at his own
disposal. He has made a will, leaving
the whole ot it to you, on one simpli
condition, which is, that you take into
your charge his old mare, and treat hei
Limlly. The will is perfectly legal, a!
vou will observe."
As he bpeke tbe stranger banded Ger
valse a document, which his piofes
sional knowledge told him was all that
was necessary to put him into posses
eiou of a fortune of five thousand a
year.
'Good heavens, sir," exclaimed Ger
vaise excitedly, "I cannot permit thii
I have no right to It You must havt
frieuds relatives who ought to hav
lu"
"No, I haven't, Mr. Gerva'se," lx
replied. "I have got nobody all art
iead, years and years ago, when I waf
duite a young man.
' , The interview had greatly tried tb
strength of the dying man, and, by tin
. dvlce of the lawyer, Gervaise js'ew
land shortly after-withdrew; but s
- f .-eat was the craving of the old man
ror his friend, that it was thought ad-
v?Me q srm-nowi h'na once mor U.
ais bedside, which he never left til!
death had closed the sufferings of pool
old Master Napper.
Months rolled on, and Gervaise New
land was duly put into possession of hit
unexpected fortune. The entire busi
ness connected with the case be placed
unreservedly in the hands of the lawyei
whose acquaintance he bad first mad
by the death-bed of his benefactor, whou;
Alice recognized as the stranger wh
l.ad so unexpectedly befriended hei
father, and terrified the avaricious land
loi 1. Carter.
All Enley agreed In declaring that it
Lad never witnessed so splendid a bri
dal Ule as that which celebrated the
wedding of Gervaise ISewland with
pretty Alice Melton, the miller's daugh
ter; and perhaps tbe only heart that did
not sincerely wish them joy, was that
of Paul Kandie.
A L.-iw jcr's Jokes.
A prominent lawyer in Mississippi i
given to periodical sprees, and man;
are the stories of his acts and saying
while under the influence of drink.
While considerably overpowered from
too free and frequent libations recently,
he was standing in front of a bar-room
holding up an awning post. A bog
came along, and was rooting and grunt
ing in the gutter immediately in front
ot the colonel, when the latter proposed
the following conundrum to the bog:
"Hie what's the differencejbetween
you hie and me? Hie give 't upl
Well hie I'll tell yer hie. In thei
morning I'll be sober hlc and a gen
tleman hie. In ther morning you'll
be sober hie but a d n hog still."
The same distinguished lawyer, on
another occasion, left a bar-room "full
as a tick,'- and as be stepped out on thi
sidewalk he saw an intimate friend, also
an eloquent and distinguished lawyei
and politician lying in the gutter, en
tirely overcome from drink. Approach
ing him, he began apostrophizing hits
Ihusly:
"Only think of itl Here lies tke great
and glorious Gen. , the brightest
"Intellect, the grandest orator in th
Siate. My God, come down to this!".
Just about that time tbe general
"coked up and angrily asked:
"Is it any of yor d n business?"
-'None in tbe least,'' replied the colo
nel, "but hate to see a friend of mine
hie -fallen so low."
"Friend of yours? You've gone back
on me. You are no friend of mine, ot
you would not allow me to lie here,"
replied the ceneraL
About that time the colonel lost hil
balance and fell alongside of the general
al, exclaiming, as he went down: .
"I've been yonr life-long friend his
I've stuck by you in your success an4
rej iced hi your glorious achievements
hie and I will not forsake vou no tfl
hlc I'll stay with you hie even in ;
your degradation.
The colonel, on yet another occasion,
was in Yicksburg and "off his pins,"
holdinir ud a lamn-nosL when he saw a
certain eminent divine, noted for bis
pompous and self important air and
manner, approaching, when he ejacula-'
ted:
"Well, there comes the Reverend . '
He always looked to me as If he was
waiting for a vacancy to occur in the!
Trinity, that he might fill it."
- Thet are going down to dinner, ne:
"May I sit on your right hand?" SheJ
"Oh, better take a chair!" He take!
one.
Wnxs the King of Portugal was ra
England. Queen Victoria presented
Edward Lsndseer to his Majesty.
as a
Da inter whose works she had been coif
lectlng. "Ah, Sir Edwin," exclaimed,
the King, "delimited to make your ao
quaintance. I was always very fond of
beasts!"
BLUE PKN'CIIj.
Reasons Proving That It "Hans
World."
trip
All newspaper oniies are not so or
derly as they should be. but this is only
to be expected. It would be unrair to
look for pefection in the office of a
lewspaper which sells for two cents a
sopy. It would also be useless. So it
lappened one day that a pen, a pair of
ihears, a pot of inucillage and a blue
encil found themselves on the same
lesk. Thi3 certainly should not have
Kcurred, for these potent factors or
iournalism belonged to different ier
ions. Tbe pen was the possession of a
writer, the shears and uiucdlago were
the property of the exchange editor and
the blue pencil was owned by the mana
ging editor himself. How they came
together it would ba Uillioult to say at
this late day; it was probably an over
sight on the put of thn ofli -e boy. or
perhaps the owners had been careless
but they were there, and nothing was
left for them but to make the best of
the situation.
Well." observed the pcu through
the layers of ink which corroded its
once bright golden surface and mufllid
its voice, "how are you to-ilay '
"Pretty well, thank you," replied the
blue pencil affably It could afford to
be affable, could this little stub of a
pencil, with its thick vein of blue crayon
worn smooth at both ends.
And how are you?" asked the peu
of the shears.
"I'm all right," replied the shears
with a snap, lor the shears felt the im
portance of its position and was far
from being humble. A large portion of
the paner was cut out with its sharp
edges, and it felt with some slight de
gree of justice that it was indispenst-
ble.
"Well," remarked the pen, after
thesefratern.il greetings had been ex
changed, "I'm pretty well myself. I
am a little overworked. That is all. I
have had rather a hard week of it. I
have been moulding public opinion, 1
have."
"Not any more so than I," auswered
the shears, with pardonable vanity.
"That Washington special which crea
ted such a sens it ion yesterday v. as done
by me, I cut it out of a Boston paper.
If it hadn't been for me 1 don t know
what the paper would have done."
I think I had something to do wit'i
that special myself," interred the
mucilage, thickly, for the first time ob
truding its voice. "I stuck the extracts
together and put them into shape for
the foreman of the composing room."
For that matter," answered the
shears, with neat sarcasm, "the office
1hv who carried the copy to the copy
box, the editor who saw it. aud the man
who wrote it lor the lioston p.aper
might as well claim some share in the
deed."
Why not, indeed?" retorted the mu-
cillage.'
"So you think so?" answered tne
hea-s. "Well, f would like to know
how they would ever have got their
work into the paper had I not cut it
out?"
"Fight it out between you," inter
rupted the peu. "That's right, light it
out; but I would like to know how your
special would have looked lr i nai noi
written the nead lines, changed the date
and put in a few words crediting the
dispatch to 'our own correspondent.' I
tell you," went on tne pen nuiuiy; as
was its wont, "it is I who make the
paper. Haven't you ever heard that tho
'pen is mightier than the sword?' Well,
that includes shears and inucillage
both."
Against this indisputable argument
there was nothing to be said. They had
been long enough In tho newspaper bu
siness to know what logic was when
they saw it. So after a long silence,
unbroken save by the evaporation of
the water in the mucilage, the peu re
marked with a little petulant sigh:
'I was not always employed in a
Be wspaper office. "
"No?" queried the shears, rather in
credulously.
' Xo, indeed! I have had a varied ca
reer. I was first bought by a young
man who thought he was a ioet. l ou
,,i,f .-.c, iHi,i ti writ for
x.,Z.
him,
"I shouldn't like to," observed the
shears, sagely. "I see enough bad po
etry in the exchange."
"I should say so," added the mucil-
kige.
M uai uo uu &uum auuui- io ic-
torted the shears. "You see only the
other side of what I cut out. You
always want to stick yourself forward."
At this rebnbe the mucillage changed
color, but before it could recover its
voice the pen continued:
"He couldn't make bait a living. At
last he had to give it up. He is now a
dry goods merchant, and I understand
he is getting rich. I wa-J next owned
by a young man who wrote comic sto
ries for the weekly papers. He thought
they were funny, but I'll give you my
word they were not. They always af
fected me to tears, nl I often felt like
a grave digger's spade. I never was so
misused. A man ought to have sorno
consideration for the feelings of his pea.
If he did," continued the in with rare
and radiant wisdom, "it would be bet
ter for him in many cases. After stand
ing this sort of thing until my points
ached, he was offered the position of
live stock reporter on a newspaper, and
I was relieved of further misery. Next
I was owned by a young novelist. He
used to write romances which made his
readers weep. He had lived in many
places and was old for his years. When
he wrote he put his own life into his
pages. He expressed his own emotions
and told his own love story."
"It was sad, was it?" asked the
shears.
"That depends upon the way you
look at it. She didn t marry him. and
he alweys felt that his life was blighted,
and every story he wrote bore that Im
pression. But I have no doubt he was
iust as well off without her. I have
noticed," continued this wise little pen.
"that most men are about as well off
without their particular Her as with
Her. After a while he gave me to a
dramatist and I used to write plays that
make me blush to this day to recall,
He made more money than any of the
previous owners. He has made as much
as three thousand dollars out of one
absurd play filled with stuff and rubbish
than I wouldn't like to repeat. That
was ages ago, though, and I have be
longed to a newspaper writer for
months and months. Since then I have
been doing great work. I have advised
the President about his duties. I have
dictated the policy of foreign govern-
I have managed two campaigns
made and unm ide many a public
man Yes," added the peg, spreading
t9 njbs apart with pride, "I am great
now. 1 run the world."
"You and I together," remarked th
shears.
"And I, too," observed the mucilage,
tenaciously.
"lou."' retorted the pen and shears
tenaciously. "You little bottle of gum.
You are not to bo mentioned in th
same connection as we."
"I have some work to do to-day.
said the pen, after a pause. "I have to
write an editorial on the 'Situation in
Bulgaria.''
"Aud I have a column special on the
'Value of Republican Institutions' to
cut out," added the shears.
A few minutes later the owners of
the speakers came into the office and
claimed their property. Late that night
there lay on the desk of the managing
editor a beautifully written editorial ou
the Eastern question and a column of
reprint describing in glowing terms the
value of our form of Government.
"Ah! What's this?" remarked the
managing editor, as be grasped tbe blue
pencil in his fingers. "Bulgaria? Kot!"
and down went the pencil through the
cages from the title to the last line.
"And what is this? Republicanism?
Doesn't that fool of an exchange reader
know that this a Democratic paper?
Rubbish!" and aga'n the blue pencil
traversed the paper smoothly but firmly
until It looked like the face or a savage
painted for the warpath. Then both
articles fell into the waste basket, aud
with a sly wink and a little chuckle,
remarked softly to itself:
"2 think, myself, that it is tbe blue
pewfil that monlds public opinion,
run the world,"
The mucilage bottle was revenged.)
VOiK OF OLD M.VSTKKS.
Tho Splendor of the Pope's Paluc.
The pictures of the Vatican, its librarj
and its museum have not been touched
tu.-on. The reason is very obvious.
They have been described by pens much
more eloquent so many times that their
attractions are well understood. To
visit them is a great privilege to any
one who has looked into the world s
progress. They have been and still are
centres of great iower. Edicts and
anathemas and bulls have issued from
their walls which have affected multi
tudes of the human race.
The Pope, who is called the "Prison
er of the Vatican," surely cannot
ct ruptain of the narrowness nor the
meanness ot his so-called prison. Its
external appearance, as it stands so
close to the great pile of St. Peter's, 1
not impressive lu any sense. But the
great stairway by which the approach
is made and when once within its walls
the splendor of the palace comes upon
you suddeu.y and sensibly. Une cau
easily feel the spirit of the past upon
him. The frescoes and the paintings
of Michael Angelo and Raphael, aud
many others whose names have stood
before the world's criticism for so many
years, fill you with solemn admiration
and silence. lo s:t in the Siitine Ohap-
el and look up at tbe "Lst Judsmtut,''
as the hand so skilled and the brain so
imaginative has painted it, is a Teast of
terrible things. The heart is awed and
the mind hesitates in its effort to fol
low the outlines and details cf the de
picted sorrow, anguish, despair, sting
ing conscience and endless remorse.
The acres of ruins, where the palaces
and the gardens or the tajwra were
built, are, under the hand of scientific
research and excavation, giving up
many evidences of unrecorded pomp,
power and tyranny. So also the Roman
Forum, so long covered with earth and
debris, has been made by such acute
arcliicjlogists as Mr. Forbes to tell ils
ancient story iu fresh languago and
Increased accuracy. Tho temptation
to describe these Is also decreased by
the fact that better mention than I
could make stands as part of the
world3 literature. Being interested in
an-.l well up on prisons at home aud
abroad, I could tell you all about the
Mamertine prison, linked as it has been
with the imprisonment of St. Paul, if
there was anything wonderful to de
scribe. But there is nothing special.
Two dark rooms, about fifteen feet
sqmie, one of which is used asacliapel.
make the prison above ground. In one
of these rooms a circular hole is
shown
as the place where the unfortunate
victims were lowered into the still
darker dungeon. The guide did not
take this method of descent for his
visitor, but with a very poor lamp on h
short stick showed the way down a
narrow stairway cut in the rocks.
Once down, it was but a duplicate of
the room above, with greater exclusion
of light aud air. This lower prison is
hewn out of the rock and gives wiug to
tho inclination to call up all the cruel
ties and horrors possible under the
iloraau Empire, But as I saw it, clean,
silent, and free from any instruments
of torture, it conveyed less horror to
my mind than some dungeon in modern
prisons which I have visited. It is very
much like Sir Walter Ratelgh's prisou
in the Tower of London, or the
Beauchamp Tower ou the Thames. It
has served its days as a place of confine
ment long ago and will perhaps soou.
under the march of new buildihg and
progress in Rome, be made to give way
for a store, a school or a rich man's
residence. The hard hand of trade I. as
litllo veneration for aje or historic
ruins.
Tho Old Lady's Kyrsight.
W. W. Herod made a speech to a ju
ry, the other day, in which he referred
to a witness who, while he testified to
seeing a number of things that favored
the other side, could not remember
things nearer and greater that would
have helped Mr. Herod's client. "Tho
witness," said Mr. Herod, "reminds me
of an old lady down in Bartholomew
County. She was nearly eighty years
old, and, much to tho dismay of her
sons and daughters, contemplated mat
rimony with a faiin hand, tvtio was
about twenty-two years old. The old
lady had considerable property, and the
fact was additional reason for opposition
oa the part of her children. She was
remonstrated with, and Dually one of
her sons said: 'Why, mother you are too
old to marry; your eyesight is almost
cone: vou couldn't see AVUliam if he
was put out thereon the barn.' !
The old lady thought she cou d, and
finally agreed that if she coald not she !
would forego the marriage and pass the
remainder of her days in single blessed- j
cess.
"The sons went and got the young
man, a ladder was placed against the j
barn, and he mounted to tbe roof, i
Shading her eyes with her band, the old '
lady looked lonz and anxiously, and :
ikially broke out with; 'Well, it is
cur'us; I caat tee the barn, but I cm
see William.'"
! NEWS IX BRIEF-
There are 20,000 members of the
tlethodlst Chuich in South Africa.
Apples will be unusually scarce
; this year; peaches "promise fairly."
' Judah P Benjamin is said to look
very much as he did thirty years ago.
The Florida orange crop will !
one-fifth larger than that of last year.
There are OjO.OCO acres of cotton
nd 9545,000 acres of corn in Louisiana.
There are 3,700 Chinamen in New
York.
There were 4,000 suicides in Paris
last year.
A daily medical journal has been
started in Paris.
The Tombs rnson, New York City,
is to be enlarged.
There are nine negroes in the new
Virginia legislature.
Steel rails have gone from S152 per
ton to $& In fifteen years.
Dr. Rochfs estimates the nmul-er
of Jews In Africa at 2'0,0t.
The salary of Dr. Cowie, the new
dean of Exeter, is f 10,000 a year.
India ink, according to Chinese
wri.fcrs, was Invented 20o7 B. C.
Mr. Millais is to paint a picture of
Mr. Gladstone for his old college at Ox
ford. Three thousand Americans and
twelve thousand English are now living
in Paris,
A woman 108 years old in White
Beld County, Ga., asked to be baptized
lecently.
An English syndicate, worth J-iu, -OoO.OOO,
has bought I'.OOO acres north
of Omaha.
Counterfeit standard silver dollars
are troubling tradesmen to au increas
ing extent.
Mr. Maxwell Tabor, son of the ex
Senator, will marry Miss Lou Babcock,
a Denver belle.
Pere Hyacinthe is lecturing this
week in New Orleans, whence he will
go to California.
ueen Victoria won all the cham
pion honors for cattle at SniithHeld,
London, this year.
There is a single sentence iu the
Englibh Foreign Enlistment act which
contains CO words.
Queen Victoria's new book con
tains eight portraits and ipjite a number
or full-page wood-cuts.
The quantity of ice shipped trom
Norwegian ports in 12 was 227,C'0
tons, the largest known.
Cardinal Manuiug's niece. Miss
Vera Manning, an heiress to j 10,000 a
year, has entered a convent.
Arabi Pasha, now in exile at Col
ombo, Ceylon, is making rapid progress
in learning to speak English.
Connecticut plants 03,000 acre3 of
corn, 32,000 acres or potatoes and 10,
CkiO acres of tobacco per year.
Mrs. Sherman, the wife of Geneial
Sherman, has adopted a little girl, Ella
Cady, daughter of the late Dr. Cady.
Ostrich plumes, valued at $1530
were taken to San Francisco from the
Anaheim ostrich farm a few days ago.
An old conductor says that the
majority of ladies in getting on and off
a street car catch hold of the back hand
rail.
The export of diamonds from the
Cape between Aug. 1 and Nov. 30, in
clusive, amounted in value to less than
So.OtO.
Suit hu3 been brought at Dallas,
Texas, to test the right of Texas rail
roads to charge four cents a mile pas
senger fare.
The ageregate area of the corn crop
for 1SS3 is 08,000,000 acres. This is an
increase of 2.500,000 acres over last
year's crop.
A Japanese stvdent has been select
ed for the important position of assis
tant to the Professor of Anatomy at
Berlin University.
In one district iu Yucatan, in a
fortnight, there were killed 30,000
pounds of grass-hoppers and over 11,000
pounds of locusts.
The Calcago board of education is
considering a proposition to make music
one of the compulsory studies in the
schools of that city.
The match factory at Jonkopinsr
can now turn out a million boxes of
matches la a single day when worked
to its utmost capacity.
It is reported that Mr. George
Augustus Sala has again grown tired
of England and will soon go to Austra
lia on a lecturing tour.
The passengers of a New Yoik
street car had the Interesting task of
cutting down a suicide who had hanged
himself to a store front awning.
Because so few Jews understand
the Hebrew language, a synagogue at
Rochester, N. Y., has adopted for use
an English translation of the ritual.
Dr. Le Roy Sunderland, of Quincy,
Mass., now eighty years old, hiu been
made a member of the Society of
Science, Letters and Art in London.
Dr. Lucy M. Hall has declined the
position of Superintendent of the Mas
sachusetts Woman's Reformatory In
stitution as successor to M:as Clara
Barton.
Gen. John Cochrane of New York
tias forsaken the Republican party and
joined Tammany Hall. 1 cc I'ise he is
opposed to the protection i f American
Industry.
On their way to the Smith Fere
Hyacinthe-Loysou, and wife spent a
couple of days in Washington, where
Mmc. Loyson was once a r.ewspapcr
correspondent.
John Riley was regarded until his
death, near Brucetown, recently, as the
oldest citizen in the Valley of Virginia.
His ago was one hundred and seven
years aud three days.
Camillo Fiammarion. lhi well
known French astronomer and meteor
ologist, joins bis authority to the theory
which explains the red sunsets by tho
great volcanic eruptions in and around
Java.
Senator-elect Wilson, of Maryland,
has written his letter cf acceptance
He does not intend to leave the bench
daring the present session of the Legis
lature, but will remain a Judge until
the autumn.
There are now in England and
Wales between 300.CUO and 400,000
women who possess the franchise that
is to say, one woman to every sevea
men. More thau 10S.0OO women pos
sess, as householders, tho municipal
franchise. The number of women land
owners ia England and Wales is 37,-
TWTYkavo nixed drinks in lajyu
cities that cost one dollar each. Tney
may be called Bland ami'es.
iiih erfformijM
"""""""""tlllMlIf"!!!