niib
etiie
B; F. BOHWEIEK,
th ooxarmmoi-THi mnoi-iro tzx moioncEiT or tee iatb.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XL! I.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. MARCH 28, 1SSS.
NO. 14.
A li.i.l SpelL
b, went about with look benign.
And hum: her clofiea upon tha itgn,
Xlian e-ihl b'-r husband In to ilign
H,lnk to her In acr-nt. rough.
U. jmp.rmtE.il the iranlou atouu
y vu a mn of manners grouch.
Be b!.1 !"" knew ha bated lamb
Xh illuaer was the merest ah.-tmb:
Way dlJu't alia prepar. com a hmmb?
gb locked r l.im uJ muttered plight
Aoil .kiNi, "What can a woman ilngu
Tj pleaa. a crauky man likajrugn?"
Ws sh m wuman to lt dumb
While l"" m" 'D witu awp-cr glumb?
SU wnul.1 u Jt Maud It, uut by .uuib.
Hi) ju.lcnv-tir i'f i!im1 fool she doubted,
U:s rcin-ls cf t'ritifism .ha Bcoubtl
mail Willi ra Ihrsa wuxda aba
1 outittd.
Then wi'h a look of pin and worry,
Tbe wf'' :.r."? and iu great riorry,
Wen: l ",-r mother", lu a Lurry.
MY FA 1 11 UNKNOWN.
The (jiKiiuf, ol 1-fasiiioued little town
of Ieal s one of the quaintest places
on the Keuliih coast. True, it pos
sesses a tiny stone jetty, at the extrem
ity of which a beaoou ll.tshes through
the vix'-'t. but no gay pr. m-naders pace
Its asphalted parade, no cockuey chil
dren Uipoit themselves upon Its bxaeh.
and the burnt-coik minstrel is tbe a
genius almost unknown.
Here 1 f.mii'I myself three sumncra
no whilst on a sketching tour. I laid
"done" the town, washed in the sea
In every mood, smeared, sketched,
dauifd, ami spattered until there was
not a slick or .stone lu the place that
had not found its way into my sketch
took.
On the last clay of my stay I saun
tered dowu to the beach with the lazy
gx.l of a man who had done his duty,
my camp-stool under my arm, my box
of tools m mv hand not that I act out
;tu any distinct purpose of usiaitr the
atr.e, for I had exhausted the aew and
my own capacity, but simply for the
take of com aniouship. l confers I
was growing alrille lonesome. Mature
lorueutiies lored me.
As lstioile.1 along, reflecting witti
-satisfaction that I would leave the
flu .1 with a clear conscience and empty
paiut-iupes, a i oca lying in a peculiar
position struck uiy t'aucy, and I slopped
to cket'-fl it.
I unfolded my little camp-stool, and
net it down ou the hard, level sand.
Tlie tUle was low, hut th ntool stood
uneven )', an 1. glancing down to ascer
tain the cau-e. I saw that one leg
tilted down into a foot-print; and,
looking aheail, I no' i :ed that the foot
prints went on and on, zUz.iir, along
the beach, d.s ippeann lu the distance
nanow, .lan.ty footprints a woman's
Feelings uk in to those experienced
b Mobinsoa C'rusiie rushed over roe as
I aazed. Keinember tlutt I had been
for fk-veral weeks in this out-of-the-way
place without another human soul wltii
whom to commune except my land
lady, and our comniii'iitiirt were rnostly
of a soni.l i.atuie; and here were deli
neate pnuts of a personality tiiat miht
lead to ti.e modi delightful conse
quences I
I could sketch no more. Gathering
up my b..R'..ii,'i-, X pieparsd to iTollow
the tra.l.
I ain somewhat of a p!iilosi!hne turn
of mud, ami us I walked along I Japl
Into a ti a n of thought worthy tUe
ireat larwiu himself.
In the tlrst place, I measured with
my eye the length of the Blender foot
prints, ami caiculatinjr by the in'over
proportions that the f.ot shouM be as
ong us the di.itauce fruru the wrist to
tfco ellHjw, I concluded, about five feet
five a good height for a woman.
That it was a woman I knew by the
fringe-like marks where here and
Here the loiijj dress made ita delWte
trail. Then slm must be slender .'or
audi a narrow loot to supiort h&r
weight; besides, the footmarks were
..'jutly pressed Into the sand. They
We,' mther far apart. She took long
tiia .'" a woman, and nothing gives
mure m.e to a walk, to my mind. 1
ie!et the? totterlnj, trippinir women.
With the vstutenes of a detective I
noticed that tL'e distance between each
two of the poin' was of equal length;
that indicated aletness and the poise
of e'astic strength, fi . dreamy woman
would have walked all 4 v"" the beach,
mad a weak wouiau woui luvo taken
uneven steps.
All atoii beside the footprints were
other marks, winch, after c Vwe iacpe:
hon, I knew to he punctuied It the
end of a parasol. Another u.VOil fat
"re, fur It showed that the unknown
female whom 1 was tracking a3 Jt
overcarefm of her complexion, laud
"IPied a commendable absence of
Vdiiity, and a corresponding rwesen.'e
of Hood sense, lint, alas I the imprimt
of the heel was exceedingly small, ami
Bore sharply cut Into the sand than
we toe, niukin tl:e unmistakable im
presion or th French heel. mv
j r nnkrown w a damsel of civlliza
lion-a tlave to fashion, possibly.
As I pursued the trail round tlie
Point at Walmer Castle it turned in to
"e white listening le:cii above hlRh
r mark, and there 1 discoveied
pr7"n3 in the sort sand as if
cniseiied m stone; the square mould of
"JOk, sinuil a novel; there were the
Jnes of a garment, and the lonfr.
"raeht i,ne wLerB the umbrella or
Was. I hiul i;llM e.lch neat fold of 8ilt
"Produce.! perfectly, and the, marks at
"ie tiimlie, where fin-era bad clutched
'"tR. Ui.e marks a delicate band,
from this I knew she had stopped to
utwn iir took and parasol she
not throw them down, therefore
' e mu 1, irentle and then she must
u"'rB unJ out at the
for a long time.
How d d 1 know- this? From the
"'o f'Xprmn. sule by side, pointing
ard, and sunk deep in the sand.
I," ,Blu-,t be thoughtful, little sad,
ti:li always Tollows; aud here she had
"f wiM nwrs, which she
t have plucked in the fields on her
- 10 wander
fields, to pick
j . K lu nos evi-
n" "eiet;"etlitut beautj-lov-
thirCiVlIJ not helP brfathine a hope
She Una ,...t t , i
tnv . .. oiu nor piain. i
Dial
limn i . , "'ipiB oouquei; IS was
mP, tut showed every Indication of
'Jg recently plucked. She could not
r away.
nd1.fDy.''1lh"i,illsra 1 ""ted forward.
Tier." L' . Ucl 143 lf 1 uad Shot,
told C, ea on Ule 8and 1,1
Hjuers, was a name "Constance."
I hai i 0iri-'"i"stantial evidence,
U.at , , :ra WB Picture of a being
iaence , i r'," 8ten' ud of wnose
oWacea,03,1 rlmaf?lne
uce wal.ed before me, press
ing footprints In the sand, a ta'l. slen
der girl, with a graceful walk, stylishly
dressed, and swinging a dainty parasol;
but, alaal with her back always turned
to me.
Was my fair unknown pretty? That
she was strong, sensible, thoughtful
and reGned, I had guessed; but the
paramount question still remained
unanswered was she pretty?
I bad wa'ked for some distance under
the cliffs towards Dover, when, lot a
flash of color caught my eve. Could it
be a bird of brilliant plumage, or a
ch'ld dressed i a red. or a young lady
with a crimson bat? It was the latter I
She reclined upon the beach, her
head resting upon a little bank of sand;
and, as I neared her. I noticed a para
sol and novel. Constance I
I hesitated as to w hat I should do.
Should I pass her, and thus turn my
back upon those artistic little footprints
for ever? No; I could not do that.
I slackened ray pace, and politely
refrained from gazing too rudely until
I almost reached ber, when I turned to
have a full look at ber face.
Judge my disappointment, however,
when 1 found that the pretty crimsou
sailor-hat, with its poppies and plush,
was tilted over the face, obscuring it
completely! I stopped short and gazed
at ber, and I was seized with an intense
desire to snatch of! the hat. aad un
mask the face at wbaterer cost. But
1 could not uerve myself to do It.
My unknown appeared fast asleep.
What if she should be wide awake,
stariugirom under the bewitching little
haUf XJiere was something awful in
this tbatat; and though I am not a
coward. I confess I quailed before the
mere idea oX two staring, glaring eyes
in ambush urvler the bat.
After contemplating such a desper
ate onslaught, it seemed quite tame
and civil, quite delicate and unobtru
sive, wheu 1 qufcfr-Ui unfurled my camp
stool, ana sat .Iowa and sketched her
as she lay, wovliun ter in grays aud
crimson.
Scarcely b.td I finished, when a sudden
panic seized me. What it ahe should
awake and come out from under the
hat like a hideous r-siou? I ah ad i red
at tae thought, and, aiundling my paints
into the box. caught up lay stool md
hurried away, retracing my footstep
and hers, reflecting rut mully that though
I bad seen her In the flesh, 1 knew uo
more than I did before.
! The problem as to her a?e and
lnaiuty, alas I was still unsolved.
Twelve months later I bad painted
two pictures, which I Intended to send
la Uf the Academy. One of them I
had deaignaued J)ay Dreams." It was.
as you will have guesaed, an exact re
producUoa of the fair one whose foot
steps 1 lia.1 traced along the sands at
Deal. The central Ugure was that of a
fasuionably-tlies-sed young lady reclin
ing at full lentil upon the golden sand,
her hat pulled dotvn over her face to
shade It from ttae sua. She was asleep,
indulging in daydream, while the pale
green waves sighed aofCJy upon the
tliingla, and t he white sails of a yacht
relieved the broad expasseof il ue.
Sly friends generally said thaC the
picture was fantastical, but they .11
prophesied it would be a success; aud
some art critics, whose acquaintance
I had made, thought wtil of it. My
friend and college chum. Jack Barrett,
though an artist himself, was ecstatl
cal over It. What sport be ami I bad
in our studio about it. We always
spoke of it as "Dreamy Cjvi stance,"
and we made a hundred gotesses at
what sort of facial expression wai under
the sailor hat.
The tirst of May had coma and ge ne.
My pictures had been accepted, auj.
what is more Important, "Day Dreams"
was Lung on the line.
Walking leisurely about among the
throngs of people, his hands clasped
behind his back, and trying to look
like one of the crowd of commonplace
young men who had r.ot a picture ac
cepted, was myself. For the greater
part of the first week I could not help
hanging about my pictures and listen
ing to what the public said about them.
One day as 1 was standing la the
esul'le, just on the point of leaving,
a carriage drove up, and from it
aligvUed a young lady, acccompanied
by a gentleman perhaps ten years ber
senior.
As thvy were passing I caught the
words "L'ay Dreams," and turned to
bear what they would say about it.
The face C the gentleman struck me
as having a cemeinblance to some one I
had seen bei'oie, aud the lady was very
beautiful just the sort of creature
whose grace ail beauty would drive
men distracted.
In the crowd i tli9 entrance I lost
them, but making- my way to where
my picture bung I foun l them before
it. The man was evidently no lover of
act, for be was staring abxut the room
in aji absent-minded maimer; but the
lady was bending forwarml Intently,
with her eyes hxed upon ray canvass in
a manner that caused me to feel de
lighted. I was Just soting certain points in
hT girlisli figure for, of. course, her
fcavk was turned to me, auri I could
noteeeber faoe dJOtlnz casually that
eiie was tad, slender, and graceful,
with a certain piquant dasti about ber
si ylisli dresj. when a man w torn I took
to be a clerk stepped quickly up, and
whispered someUtins into She ear of
her compauton.
"Oh. yes; I'll be there immediately,"
he responded; and Uiruing to the lady,
said: Cjnstauce, 1 must run away on
a matter of busines. Don't move from
this place until I return, so that I shall
know where to And joi."
Ue was walking qtiickly past me
when I touched hira on the shoulder.
"Whr Musgrava, old. lellow, can it
Sks you?" I cried, for I remembered in
a moment where I had aeen his face
bef ore. We had studied together in
Paris. "Can I do anyJilne for you,
or i glanced toward the still
averted figure. ...
Good heavens, Kay. who'd have
thought of meetlm? you?
Thanks, yes; I'm called
away on "an important matter; intro
duce voun elf. nr bs back ajaiu in a
duce youn elf.
few minutes.
Want to run to tue
toK?5.t,aSi.t he was lost In the
CrBylher motionless attitude and fixed
glance 1 si iw at once that the lady bad
not heard a word of our "ouyenMion.
and was qiuite unconscious of her es
cort's departure. I stepped P f Jer
side, but t fore I could speak she was
saving m a half whisper: Iff
heard of a-nytbin so "range in mX
lite. The beach dowrn at Deal. ' don t
you see? I know It's the beach, though
ffs horribly badly VlDi?dk
dearl it rwHy cannot be, bat--she
craned her neck wl 09e
v! I am positive or lti i
ought to know my own clothe ,
own Indira bracelet, the crimson hat
dout you remember it? and the lawn
dress. And that book one of Mils
Braddon's and parasoL I wish the
hat were not so far down over the face.
though. I should like to know when! he
it is intended for me, or "
"I'ardon me, madam," I said.
She turned upon me swiftly, and I
existed to lie snubbed, but I was not.
"Pardon me, but Mr. Musgrave has
been called away for a few moments on
business, and has left you in my charge.
I am an old friend of bis a school
fellow, in fact."
She smiled, tuen replied: "Then I
suppose I mirst remain here until he
returns, or I shall never find him in the
crowd." Giving me a searching glauce,
she added: "Do you mind waiting?"
Mind waltingl I would not have
minded waiting an eternity with her:
but 1 didn't tell ber so.
I smiled, said something civil, and
asked her opinion upon the picture
before us.
"Well, to tell you the truth," said
she, blushing, "I real'y thought I
recognized myself in It."
"Indeed!" I glanced critically at
the picture, as if I bad never seen It
before. ".Not a cad painting, by the
way."
"Xo, not very," she replied; "but I
feel certain the beach i intended for
that between Dover and DeaL And
as for the dress and bat, why, I feel
quite sure they are mine."
"Did you ever pose for a picture.
tbenr" X asked.
"l'ose for a picture in that outrageous
lasblonr 1 should think not."
"Possibly you may have been asleep
when some one trespassed," I sug.
gested.
"If that is so, I consider It a piece
of impertinence," said she, very deci
dedly.
"All these artist fellows have no
conscience. They tnink the world was
made for them alone," I replied.
She bent over aud looked In the cor
ner of the picture.
'Itv " nha K!il "IT.rnl.l Tt ivT"
while I started, and grew pale and
hery iu one moment, and felt that
Kay" must be branded upon my fore
head. "I don't like the sound of it.
Kjy Ray! I can just imagine him.
A little man in velvet coat and big.
UctVid-brimmed bar. Lgh!
1 adk you frankly, could I tell her at
this moment that I was the guilty per
son? Xo, 1 ifiamt put in a few words in
favor of poor tjarold IUy first.
"Ah! Did you say Hay?" I asked.
"Why, Harold Hiy yes. yei why,
he's a great friend of niloe!"
"Oh, I beg your pardon if I have
said anything rude of your friend."
J said she," punctiliously, not at all as
ir ate were sorry, tnougn. -But don't
yoa vuink yourself that it was a little
too well, presuming of him?"
I pulled my moustache and looked
critical.
"Well, I grant yon that it was hardly
a fair thing, and all that, you know,"
I said, with candor; "but you must
consider the circumstances, the infer
mality of the place the temptation, so
to speak, lf you knew Kay I am sure
you would never accuse him of Imper
tinence. He is certainly not a bore,
and and he reveres the fair sex."
She was gazing dreamily at the pict
ture, "and when I paused she smiled,
not at ail disapprovingly, and mur
mured: "Ob, go ou pray go onl Tell
me more about him."
"Well, there lsu't anything more to
tell," I said, feeling myself fairly in a
corner, for I really coull not sound my
own trumpet any longer.
"Is he handsome?' she asked, with
a nonchalant air, still gazing at my
picture.
"Eh hardly!" I stammered.
H'ever?"
"XoV decidedly not. Has a little
talent, but that is alL"
"Xot harK,3oraei anl not clever." she
repei-.-ed, witb. laugh. "Why, then,
what is this is Irtereoting creature?"
"Only an artisV with an ideal," I
began, half-lightly, b.alf in earnest; 4 'a
young fellow who is tracking foot
prints to the sea, and wondering where
they are going to lead rum; a poor
creatura whose Tate is marked by a
crimson sailor hat, which he can't
pluck up the courage to lift. In short,
were I to tell my friend that I bad at
last seen the original of his mysterious
sketch he would be beside nlmself.
Were I to hwld out the promise that he
night enjoy the same privilege, be
would be in the proverbial seventh
heaven; aud did he mest you he would
be"
I felt a hearty slap upon my back,
and heard Jack Barrett cry out: "Hay,
old fellow, let me congratulate youl
You deserve your luck! Dre.wy
Constance' Is a grand success. Tiifl
Earl or Sheppr &as called at the studio
this morning, and offered to buy it."
"Barrett," I juW, as be desperately
pressed my hanl, 'another time, old
fellow. This lad"
Jack saw for tiie first !me that he
was looking over the shoulder of a lady,
who turned ami met his gaze aith eyes
sparkling with rage, I suppose a-oor
Barrett bad never had a woman look
at him like thai before. He assured
me afterwards that he should never
care about the experience bilng xe
peated. I managed to bustle him off, and
then, for a moment. I wished myself
anywhere rather than in the Academy,
standing like a culprit, with my eyes
cast down.
Suddenly I tseard a pretty little
laugh, and lookirag up I saw Constance
was holding her catalogue up to her
face, while her eyes iaiighed over the
top. I had bunt into a loud laugh
also, but just as I was enjoying the
fun I was confronted by Mu3grave,
whose very existence I owsa I had for
gotten. Oh, there Is yoar Ah! I began.
I could not bring myself to say
"husband," so finished. Ob sentence
with a silent epithet.
"Brother." she said, turning a pair
of laughing eyes full uson me.
Addressing ber brother, she said:
"Do you know, Charlew, 1 am afraid I
have mortally offende-a Mr. Bay, wber
is a friend of yours, I understand. I
had no idea it was he who painted
'Day Dreams, and I have been criticis
ing it berore his very face."
Oh, do not mention it. Miss Mus
grave! I must apologize for my impu
dence in sketching you whilst yoa were
dreaming, and I trust you will forgive
me," said L
"Of course I will; only I hope you
will forget all the harsh things said
about the man in a velvet coat and a
big, flopping hat," she replied, iisugti-
iBsT
We will make a mutual apology, in
the hope that our acquaintance, which
was begun so strangely, will ripen into
friendship." I said.
The facts of the case were ezDlsned
to Musgrave, who, when we had On
isbed, said: "Kever miud. Conny; Ray
and Barrett shall dine with us to-night.
I know them both as the best of fel
lows, and I am delighted to renew their
acquaintance.
Before the bright days of spring came
round again Constance and I were
married. Jack Barrett acting in the
capacity of best man.
When the Academy opened again I
found I bad another picture on the
line. It was the portrait of my fair
unknown.
TH.VT PltKCIOCS BIBLE.
A Good story Told by a Promlneut
Chicago Bosiueax Man.
John Kinney, of the firm of Kinney
& Bansome, tells a little story about
himself which may strike a familiar
vein in some other man's experience.
"When I was a young chap," says he,
"I got the Pike's Peak fever along
with a lot more of tha men aud boys of
our town, and as I was pretty hard to
manage around home, and as some
staid old friends of my father's were
going to the new gold country, it was
concluded that I should go with them.
When we were all ready to shut my
trunk aud lock it. my mother, who,
bless her, was more than half afraid to
have me go out into that rough coun
try, brought a handsome clasp Bible
out of her bedroom and laid it in my
trunk on top of the other things.
"Xow, Johnnie," said she, "I want
you to promise me that you will read
this Bible every day."
"Of course I will mother." I Slid;
"I will read it every chance I have."
"And, Johnnie," said she. "1 wani
you to study well the Sarmon on the
Mount. It will do you good. You
will find it in St. Matthews and St.
Mark, and St. Luke and St. John, but
the best is in St. Matthew. You will
read it often, won't you, Johnnie?"
"I promised every thing, and I
meant to keep my promise, too. But
somehow I never did. 1 never opened
the Bible; never even undid the clasp.
After I had been at Pike's Peak some
time, and spent nearly all the money
that my rather had given to one of his
old friends for me, I started with what
was left to come home. I joined a
party that was coming home, but they
left me at the Missouri crossing and I
had a terrible time from that on. I ran
out of money and then spent all I could
borrow on such valuables as I could
pawn. I would have sold that Bible a
dozen times if I could have found any
body to buy it. Well, after a heap of
walking and all sorts of hardship I
finally reached home. After the kiss
ing and talking was over my mother
began unpacking the little handbag I
had brought back in the place of the
trunk I took away. In the bottom of
it she found the little clasp Bible.
'Your Bible looks as if yoa hadn't
used it much." she said.
"Yee," said I, I took very good 1
"Did you read it, "Johnnie?" she
asked,
Of course I did: real it every day."
"You read the Sermon ou the Mount
then, did you?1' she askeJ, with a kind
of peculiar expression is her eyes.
"Yes, very often."
"Theu she opened the Bible to fet,
Matthew and there lay a f 20 bill she
had put between the leaves. There
was a $10 bill, too, la each St. Mark,
St. Luke and St. John to J in all aud
and I would have given every cent of
it to have been out of that room.
'I told you St. Matthew hud the
best account of the Sermon ou the
Mount," was all my mother said about
the matter."
Morphia Habiiue-..
Watch a morphia habitue deprived
of the drug. The first slight uneasi
ness and sense of discomfort gradually
passes into extreme restlessness accom
panied by the most profound depres
sion; the stomach becomes so irritable
that nothing can be retained, and there
is a nausea and distressing sensation of
emptiness and sinking. The whole
nervous system, which has been work
ing so long under a deadening weight,
abuses its liberty and runs absolute
riot; a breath of air, which woal 1 bring
relief to an ordinary sufferer, is painful
to blni; so sensitive is the skin, that a
touch distresses, and even the eye and
ear are incapable of tolerating the most
ordinary stimulations.
To these troubles is aided sleepless
ness; the patient can not get a mo
ment's rest; or, if he should close his
eyes la sleep, horrible dreams aud an
indefinable terror takes possession of
Ilim, and makes him dread that condi
tion which otters look to for consola
tion arK relief. Incapacity to take
food, prolonged sleeplessness, constant
sneezing, yawning and voaaitia?, pain
ful acuteness of all bis senses, and
other troubles sink the sufferer into a
condition of prostration and despair,
only to be relieved by morphia.
Who, then, can wonder if the wretch
yieida again to the drug which has so
lotg auslaved him? Hovering between
aUocgice to be free and a feeling of
Incapacity to endure his agonies, he
asks reproachfully whether it is trua
tbat science has discovered no means
of relief, uo substitute for morphia,
which may be given him until the
storm be past. Xo. we have no means
at our disposal whizb will do more
than alleviate Uieaa sufferings, and if
the morphia habitue will be freed he
must place himself under such control
as can prevent his giving way uuder
the trial, as he almost inevitably will lf
left to himself.
But severe as the ordeal is, be has
this consolation and this great induce
ment to submit to it namely, that it
is abort. A few days will see him
through the worst, and although he
may not be comfortable for a week or
two, his discomfort is endurable and
becomes less and less, until it gradu
ally passes in ease and health.
A Poet' Kevenge.
When the poet Sheffel was staying in
Italy for the benefit of his health he re
ceived a letter from a friend in Ger
inany an unfrank letter containing
nothing but the words: "I am well.
With kind regards. Yours, etc."
Annoyed at having to pay double post
age for such an insignificant piece of
news, the poet determined to serve his
friend out. He procured a large stone
of immense weight, packed it in a box
and sent it to his correspondent. "Car
riage collect." The latter, in the be
lief that the contents of the parcel were
valuable, gladly paid the heavy charge
for carnage, opened the box, and found,
to his horror, nothing but an ordinary
too.
My Sisvn-'. Slipper; Or. Love 'Will
Find a War.
liora is seated In the embrasure of
the window intent ou mending an old
slipper. We are not working in the
shop because some of the machinery is
out of order, and you may be sure we
are only too glad to get a little rest.
It is pretty hard to be pior. and
doubly so for a beautiful girl like Nora.
I never could understand Jed Hamp
ton could go away and forget such a
face as hers. That was three years
ago, when we were all living up in
Vermont with Aunt Huldah. Jed
Hampton was a summer boarder and
fell III at our house, and Nora nursed
him until he was well. 1 thought they
were in love with each other, but at
the end of the season he left with only
good-bye.
I knew it cut her to the heart to have
biri run off in tbat way, but she hid
ber sorrows and tried to forget h'm.
After Aunt Uullali died and we
were tbrowu on our own resources a
ft tend got us both situations in a large
Boston factory, and here we have been
ever since. Only yesterday Nora
alarmed me by saying that the senior
member of the firm for whom we
worked had made her au offer of mar
riage. ' Why a crusty old bachelor of fifty
had made up his mind at last to marry
was a mystery, but Nora bad decided
to accept him, because we were so
dreadfully poor. I knew In ber heart,
however, she still cherished the mem
ory of her handsome lover, Jed Hamp
ton. - Mr. Steele Is coming for his answer
this evening and I note how wan her
face looks as she sits by the open win
dow, sewing on the shabby slipper.
From the street come the sounds of a
boy singing 'Silver Threads Among
the Gold."
" "Of all the impudent little beasts!"
.1 spring up in amazement at my sis
ter's ejaculation, aud then we both
burst out laughing, for there, on the
outer edge of the window-ledge, sits a
ridiculously solemn little monkey, with
Mora's slipper tightly clasped in one
skinny arm!
We are in the second story of a long
brick block, with balconied windows,
and the animal has probably made his
wsy hither with ease from some neigh
boring apartment.
We both make a dash at him, but be
eludes us and Is gone. Xora, looking
after him, presently reports tbat he has
entered the fourth window from ours,
and wonders'with a laugh if she will
ever see her slipper again.
While we are discussing our modest
upper of bread and butter, apple sauce
and tea, our landlady knocks at the
door. I arise and open it. Vaguely
in the shadowy ball behind Mrs. Bur
gess looms a tall, dark figure.
. : "Miss Ellis, this gentleman has your
lister's slipper at least I told bim that
I thought it was hers. Will you"
But the good woman never finishes
;hr sentence, for the man moves for
yt, rd and looks directly over my bead
lNo", who.. had pushed hr chair
back from the table and stands smiling
bravely, but so white that I fear she
will faint.
"Step lu. Mr. Himpton," I say,
graciously, adding by way of explana
tion to Mrs. Burgess, "The gentlaman
is an old acquaintance."
Mrs. Burgess, betaking herself down
stairs, I close the door with a throb
bing heart and await developments.
Jed Hamptoul I do net wonder
Nora loves hiio.he is so big and dark
and handsome!
Xora, poor child, is trying to utter
some conventional words of greeting,
but he will have none of It, aud I
laugh and sob simultaneously as be
takes one long stride and swoops her
into his arms.
My darling! my little sweetheart!"
he cries, joyously. "Have I really
found you? and all owing to that ab
surd little monkey which I brought
home from Cuba!"
But Xora has dropped a mask of ice
over her face and is pushing him
away.
Jed looks at me imploringly. "What
is it, Nell? She isn't promised to some
other fellow?"
I shake my head. " We thought that
you were promised to some other girl."
I venture, despite .Nora's frown of re
monstrance. I am determined to have this affair
cleared up if possible. The thought of
Mr. Steele's iuteuded visit makes me
desperate.
Jed flushes gailtily. "So I was," he
says, "promised when a mere boy to a
girl of whom 1 wearied in a year. But
1 held myself in honor bound to ber. I
actually ran away from Nora. 1 loved
ber so I dared not stay. What a
despicable brute I must have seemed
to you! What was my relief, on re
turning to the woman whom 1 intended
to marry, to find that she had tbrowu
aside her vows to me to wed another.
She also had wearied of tbat boy and
girl betrothal.
'Business detained me for a time in
the West, and when I returned to find
Xora you were both gone, no one knew
where. All this time I have been
bunting for jou. To-day Jocho lucky
monkey brought me this little slip
per." Here he takes it rather senti
mentally from a breast-pocket and
kisses it with great tenderness, which
performance 1 witness with approval
Nora with shy blushes and laughter.
"Inquiry leads to the discovery of my
little Cinderella. And now, my dear,
when will you marry me?" be queries,
with a business-like manner that re
joices my soul.
"Oh. Jed! I dont know!" stam
mers Nora.
bhe does not push him away now,
however, when he draws her again
within tha circle of his arm and
smooths her soft dark hair with gentle
fingers. Neither does she ret use to
kiss aim when he bends to touch ber
Hps.
And so my sister's romance is to
have a pretty ending, for Jed is a silent
member of a prosperous hardware firm
and Nora will not have to wear shabby
slippers any more, aud I am to have a
home witb them.
Mr. Steele? Oh, well, I will con
fess tbat I have wronged him. He is
old and ugly, but he has a kind Leant
under his queer, gruff exterior. I feel
sorry for his disappointment, of course,
though I cannot wish matters other
wise. What do you suppose is his wedding
present to Nora? Why nothing less
than a check for $1,000. After all he
might not have been a bad brother-in-law.
A silver-haired patron of the Fifth
avenue Hotel, New York, who has
lived there for twenty-five years, claims
that in that time bis lodging and meals
have cost him 700.000.
Th Man She Ixireil; or. All In Good
Time.
Everybody wondered why Flora
Knight did not make a brilliant match.
There were many suitors for her hand,
but she was cold to them all and thev
accused her of being -a heartless co
que tie. She was now twenty four and
ber cousin, Kate Belmont, had married
a rich man, but she showed no signs
of following her dearest friend's ex
ample. The outside world did not know that
she had once been engaged to a young
man named Wilfred Benedict, whom
in a moment of pique, she threw over
OJcause he objected to her flirting with
a rich broker.
He had gone away and she had not
seen him in years. Bitterly did she
repent her hasty words and would have
gladly called bim back if she knew
where he was.
One night Flora attended a ball with
her cousin Kata, given in honor cf the
Grand Duke of Russia. She had
dressed herself so prettily for the occa
sion that her cousin exclaimed:
"Flo. what have you done to your
self? You look like a fairy princess."
Out of a cloud of fluffy creamy-colored
lace rose a face of purest oval out
lines; the dimpled cheeks and chin aud
the red smiling mouth, the magnificent
dark eyes and the wealth of glossy
hair, out of whch scintillated the iri
descent light from aqu.vering diamond
spray (Kate's gift formed a picture
worthy of an artist's admiration.
Flora was a favorite of the hostess,
who kept near her through the early
part of the evening, so that she was
among the first to ba introduced to the
distinguished guests.
One tall, fine-looking ollicer, aftf r a
time, devoted himself almost exclu
sively to her. He was bronzed from
exposure to the sun, and Ins heavy
beard and moustache completely bid
the lower part of his face, but his com
manding forehead and large, brilliant
eyes, his stately form, decorated upon
the breast with a glittering token of
bis sovereign's favor, made him an
object of interest second only to the
young Grand Duke.
In the confusion of hearing so many
strange, unpronounceable names Fiora
had caught but the sound of the mili
tary title General. So she addressed
him by that title alone.
They conversed for a time In French,
as Flora knew It to be a language fa
miliar to every eJucaled Russian.
After a time, however, with a sud
den smile iu his dark eyes, the General
said playfully, relaxing from the
courtly gravity of his previous man
ner: 'Let us descend once more into the
commonplace world' Miss Knight, and
talk over old times.'
As Flora looked at him in amaze
ment, he continued evidently enjoying
her mystification:
"It is evident that my memory of
laces is better than In your own. Let
me reintroduce myself. Iam Wilfred
Benedict. Will you give me a flower
from your bouquet in token that there
is peace betweeu us?"
Without a moment's hesitation Flora
selected the only rosebud iu ber nosegay
and gave it to him.
With a pleasant look he fastened it
In his buttonhole.
With a little tremor iu hr voice.
Flora said:
"I did not know you. You are very
much changed.1'
"Yes; the husk has grown jretty
brown and rough, but the kernel is
still the same."
"His low, deep tones gave a peculiar
significance to his words and made
Flora's color rival the red, red rose,"
but she was not displeased. Old mem
ories were buy at her heart. She had
always loved Wilfred, even when, angry
at his supposed neglect, she had seat,
him from her so coldly and proudly.
All was soon explained. While trav
eling In Russia with his pupil it bad
been bis good fortune to do a service to
a member of the royal family, and had
thus come under "the notice ot the
Czar, who seemed specially attracted
by Wilfred. He had been offered a po
sition in the army; and. as the time
with his pupil had expired, accep'.ei
it. Rising rapidly to his present high
rank, he had been honored by being
chosen to accompany the royal youth
on this visit to England.
Flora listened with shining eyes to
the General's story; then she said:
I always knew you would succeed in
life and I am as glad as though you
were my own brother."
"The General bent and whispered:
"I am very grasping. A sisterly In
terest will not satisfy me. Flora," and
his manly face grew intensely earnest,
I have been looking forward to this
meeting during all my years of exile.
Wdl you not promise to become to me
tbat nearest and dearest of all rela
tions my wife!"
Yes," Wilfred," said Flora softly,
'for I too have loved you through
all."
In this, the supreme moment of her
life, Flora felt that her lover should be
answered simply and truly, as his loyal
heart deserved.
And the gay fashionable throng
surged by, smiling at the supposed flir
tation between the noble-looking young
officer and the beautiful girl, little
thinking they were spectators ot a re
conciliation between long-estranged
lovers.
It was not many days, however, be
fore Madam Rumor learned the truth,
and with her thousand tongues whis
pered it about broadcast, so that when
a brilliant wedding-party gathered to
witness the nuptials of Wilfred aud
Flora, each heart among the guests
beat with a throb of that universal
sympathy which makes the "whole
world kin" on such occasions.
Strychnine Tor DrunkenncsH.
Some years since Jarochewski, a
Russian biologist, found by experi
ments made on dogs that strychnine
not only destroys the narcotic action of
alcohol, but enables the system to sup
port large quantities of alcoholic spir
its without the usual Injurious effects.
Russian physicians now report great
success in the treatment of dipsoma
nia, or the alcohol habit, by means of
nitrate of strychnine. The drug is
said not only to relieve the lmmmedi
ate after effects of alcoholic excess,
but in many cases to destroy all crav
ing for intoxicating liquors.
At the funeral of an aged lady in
Pennsylvania recently, there were
present eight near relatives, the young
est of whom was overeevfenty years cf
age.
There aie fiver 2,600 soldiers lu
the Russiau-atmy afflicted with opth
alima ia-ihe hospitals of the Odessa
district alone. These cases are en
tirely treated by nurses and have do
skilled medical attendance.
IN" TUB PANTOMIME.
Parts Whic-li Clill Jren Like B?st la
Spectacular Plays.
"I don't want to wear that dress; It
ain't bright aud pretty like the
others."
The child was a pretty girl of S
years, and she was being arrayed In a
coarse, dark gown to represent Little
Buttercup In "Pinafore."
"It is always so." commented Mr.
Joseph W. Horner, the cost u trier, to a
reporter who happened to be present.
"I've been at this Lusiness thirty-five
yearn, and I haven't yet found the
child who did not object to appearing
in dark or coarse costumes."
"The costumes the little r enjoy
most," added Mr. Horner, . . those
that are brilliant; the brighter and
more sparkling they are the better the
children are pleased, while a somber
dress seems to have a bad effect on
them at once. The boys like soldier
clothes best and sailor suits next. The
girls always take a great fancy to a
train gown, and when they represent
birds of lo:i,r plumage they pay particu
lar attention to it. I have watched
them very closely aud have noticed,
too, bow peculiarly old rashloned girls
are in every instance, and how they
are all attention to the instructions
giveu them, requiring much less eiTort
iu this respect than boys. Some of the
most elegant costumes worn by glrl3 of
6 to 8 years are those of the style of
Louis XiV for tlie minuet, lu this
they wear dresse3 of the tluest quality
of tigured silk, with puffed sleeves, and
trimmed with gold and silver. These
costumes cost often as high as $75 each.
Kiegaut suits for the boys are made of
silk velvet, square cut. They include
sword, jeweled buckles aud trimming
of pink silk aud velvet. Sii2h a suit
complete is worth $100. They are for
the minuet also. Fairy costumes are
rmde of lighter material, but are often
trimmed with lace and embroidered in
gold and silver.
"How young have you known chil
dren to appear in private theatricals or
on the professional stage?"
"As early as 2 years of age. I re
menuer a girl of this age who com
mitted eight verses to memory and re
cited them at a Suuday-scliool euttr
tamment. She did not break down
once, and her pronunciation was cor
rect throughout. At a fairy play in a
hall in New York City, at which a
school took part, there wai a girl of 3
years who remembered her part all
through and did the stage business
well. She also sauj in aa operetta."
"What is the best age for teaching
children to act?"
"For girls, 7 or 8 yenrs. The brain
at that time begins leallv to develop
end is moat susceptible. Boys must be
10 years old before they cau do ny
thlug cute or smart on the stage. That
is my actual experience, and I've
taught at least 2,000 children for stage
appearance?. My idea Is that a child's
soul is as mature as a growu person's
The enetratiug gaze of children seem i
to me to show this."
"What parts are children be6t in?"
"Pathetic and singing parts. Comedy
in children is very rare. In fancy
pieces, those written especially for
children, the boys do as well as girls,
but the girls learu their parts aud
seem to understand what is wanted of
them much quicker than boya. They
do not forget, while the !ys do. The
boys will leave out lines. The parts
must be fairly thumped into them. I
recall one remarkable piece of work by
a girl of 8 years that will show you
how apt they are. The play was 'The
Tempest," aud a number of children
were to act for some charitable institu
tion. The girl who was to take thj
part of Ariel was 13 years old. At
noon on the day the play was to be
given she met with au accident that
rendered her appearance iiniK3Slb'e.
Our only hope was a child 8 years old,
who we knew was bright enough to
read the part. We saw her that after
noon and asked her to read the pait.
She had been on the stage before lu
private theatricals, and had done very
well. She refused to read, but said she
would learn the part. There were Ji.HJ
lines and seven or eight entrances. She
began at 3 o'clock, and by the time the
curtain was rung up had committed
the part completely to memory. Why,
-on the stage she recited it as readily as
if it had been an everyday occurrence
with her. She was the child of poor
parents. I have seen great big girls of
14 or 15 cry and suivel over their part
when younger ones would get along
without any difficulty. I remember a
noteworthy case where I had seventy
young girls in a tableau. The girl in
it representing the Spirit of Death was
only 10. I gave thein their positions,
aud toll them to leave the stage, come
back and take exactly the same places
again. They did it without a single
error."
"How long does it take to prepare a
child to take a part?"
"For a play six rehearsals, as a rule,
are sufficient and for a tableau one re
hearsal is enough. In a tableau of a
gypsy d-tnee not long ago I placed the
children in position. Laud and foot
raised as if dancing, and then tiit
missed them. Two days later they all
took the same positions without a word
of instruction. An interesting case was
that of a score of children whose ages
rau from 8 to 13, and who were gov
erned as to their positions on the stage
by different lights, one iiosition tor
blue, another lor red and so on N ot
one missed after the first rehearsal, and
the little ones were just as apt as the
older oues and were, besides, often
first to take their places."
"Do many of the children become
professional actors?"
"No? These little private perform
ances are done for the amusement of
friends, and parents are delighted to
see their children in them, but wheu
the children are wanted for the pro
fessional stage the parents object at
once. There is no instance that I know
of where a child has been cultivated at
so early an age for the stage; nor do I
know of a woman who became a bril
liant actress from a smart child on the
stage. I do know, however, of
boys who were bright in this respect
who have become good actors. The
child who In 1850 made such a hit as
Eva in "Uncle Tom's Cabin," when it
first came out, is an example of what 1
tell you. She grew up In the profes
sion, but was not successful."
Quinine.
The beginning, we are told, of the
enormous increase In the supply of cin
chona from which quinine is made
was in 1675, in which year the Ceylon
products appeared on the market to
the extent or 10,000 poonps. In 1S7'J
it had increased to 373,000 pounds; ia
1880, to 15,000,000 pounds.
NEWS IN BRIEF.
The forest Ores in Illinois have
done much good as well as great dam
age. They have destroyed the myriads
of chinch bugs that ruined the corn
crcp last season. Before the fires started
the fields and woods were swarming
with the buirs.
A cowboy and his horse suffered a
singular and violent death recently
near Cheyenne Wells, Col. Lightning
struck the iron iu tue saddle and ex
ploded all the cartridges in the man's
belt, also setting lire to his clothing
and trappings.
An S-yoar-olJ eirl in Marlboro,
Conn., is well supplied with livimz an
cestors, having, besides her father and
mother, two grandmothers, two grand
fathers, two great-grandmothers, two
great-grandfathers, aud one great-great-xrandmother
who is almast a
centcnarlau.
The use of electric lig'it on public
buildings at Washington has led to a
great increase In the number of spiders'
webs. The lights attract multitudes ot
Insects, and these in turn attract the
spiders. In many cases architectural
outlines have become badly obscured bv
the webs.
Manufacturers complain that the
African rubbers now received do not
yield, when strained and cleaned,
more than thirty or lifty-tive per cent,
of pure rubber gum, ow ing to the na
tives adulterating with saw dust, bark
dust, etc., to overcome the inconven
ient stickiness of the Juica.
The physiclaus of L juisvil'e. Kv
are mystified by a case in the hospital
of that ctiT. It is that of a Polish
man who Ireely perspires Wool. As
far as cau be ascertained his affection
Is the result of a virulent fever con
tracted ia equatorial regions. At last
accounts ho was Improving.
Iu 1B52 the United States govern
ment sent a sma'l herd of cameis into
Texas with the idea of using them aud
then get to cross the so-called Great
American Desert. The camels p res
tored aud multiplied; but when the
war came they were scattered through
the State and Arizona, and many of
them became wild. ilailioads have
solved the Great Amerlciu Desert
problem, and tho camels have fallen
Into innocuous desuetude.
Eighteen years ago, when the air
brake was tried, It required eighteen
seconds to apply it to a train -2,000 ieet
long. Four years later the time was
reduced four seconds, Itecent exjri
meuts vritU the air brake on freight
traios show that it cau be applied to
every car iu a train of that length run
ning at the rata of forty miles an hour,
aud that this train can be stopped
within 500 teet, or one-fourth of its
own length, mid ail this without any
serious ioitlng.
A card was Issued to X'na Van
Zandt under the name of Mrs. N.
Spies. Tlie library is uuder control of
l!ie city government and when, re-c.-ntiy,
blie aip'ied for iermission to
draw books as Mrs. Spies the managers
weie unuec'ied as to tho propriety of
granting her request and thus giving
quasi ..liicial recognition of the validitv
of the proxy man i iv. They sought
legal advioo, but null .k-fluite re
sult. Recently it was decided iu tlie
absence of well- li-iim-il objectiou to.
give out the card as a; i '.r-d for to
Mrs. N. Spies.
Colorado wo!vc3 are, souie of
them, great lovers of music. A cow
boy near Wetaiore, whilod away tne
time Ly playing a harmonica. Onedav.
as he rode and j.Iayod, a wolf came to
ward hiui and followed him clo.sely.
He dismounted, still play ing.got a club,
aud walked i p to the animal, who all in
tent on the music, stood still and was
killed. A young girl, when she went
after the cow.i, used to smg to herself.
A wolf heard her and followed her.
When a second person weiit with the
girl the wolf did not appear. Then her
brother rode behind l.er on the horse,
and the wolf came too near the sing
ing and was shot.
The mint at Hamburg, Germany,
has received a contract for 25,0OU,0OO
bronze coins, which will constitute a
new currency for the Kingdom of
Siam. The coins will be of smeral de
nominations, and will bear on one side
the portrait of the JCiuit ct Siaiu, while
on the other side will be an allegorical
figure representing genius. A West
phalia firm furnishes the metal. TUo
new coinage will replace the present
zinc currency, and the nurntr turned
is about five conn per head foi the
population of Siam. It w ill keep the
Hamburg mint busy for five mouths.
As recently as lS.io the Siamese silver
coinage still consisted of roughly spher
ical pieces or silver of various sizes,
which were formed of portions of sil
ver rods, which were lirs: U-i.t to
gether aud afterward trimmed at the
ends aud hammeied, the whole being
theu stained with two or three de
vices denoting tha va'.u". In 1S01 the
Siamese embassy to Euzlaud made a
contract with a Birmingham lirm for
the circular s her coinage or seven de
nominations, w hich has si ace been the
mouey of the realm.
The year l'Juo will not be a "leap
year," as centum. 1 years not multiples
of 4'JO, even though divisible bv four.
B not reckoue I b ssextile, or leap
years. About forty-live years Iwfoie
Christ Julius Caesar decree! that every
fourth year should Im held to consist
of iicti days, lor tue purpose of using
up tlie odd Hours. Seeing that a day
every liiurth year was too much, it
followed that the Iw-gliiuing of the year
moved onward. From the time of the
Couucll of Nice, lu 325, when the ver
nal equmox fell correctly on the :21st of
March. Pope Gregory found, in 1Z42,
that there had been an overreckoning
to tue extent of ten days, and that on
that time the vernal equinox fell ou the
11th of March, lo correct lliis he de
creed that the 5lh cf October of that
year should be reckoned as the 15th,
and to keep the years right iu future,
the overplus being eighteen hours,
twenty-seven miuutei in 1 ten seconds
In a century, he ordered that every
ceuturial year that could not lie divided
bv 400 should not be bissextile, as It
otherwise would bo. The Gregorian
calendar was decreed by Pope Gregory
in lob, on th! nans, and was readily
adopted by Catholic, thoagh not by
Protestant countries. Jt did rot ob-
taxu in Great Britain until 175J, by
which time the difference between the
Julian aud Gregorian periods amounted
to eleven days. Au act of Parliament
was passed dictating that the 3d or
September that year should be reck
oned the 14U;, and that three out of
every four of the centurial years
should, as in loe Gregory's arrange
ment, not be bissextile or leap years.
The Gregorian calendar i3 used In ail
civilized countries except Russia,
..
r
X
k
it