V.
e 1
4
I
if.
B. F. HOHWEIER,
THE OONSTITUTION-THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAW8.
Bditer ud
VOL. XLIX
MIFFLINTOWN. JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. .WEDNESDAY. JULY 24. 1895.
NO. 321
f. CLOT 4.
fPJl
CIIArTEU IX. (Continued.)
"So I.ady Dorrington is In town," salA
the latter, after their first exchange or
greetings.
"Indeed! I have not heard from her." '
"I don't think I was mistaken. I safl
nor drive np to Mrs. Ituthveu's hotel al
1 loft this morning."
"I diil not think she would be up just
ct. How is Mrs. Kuthven to-day?"
Wo great things." said Shirley. "Thil
nif.irtutmto business has taken sneh a
t.old '.11 lier. I believe she suspec-ts every
smil that comes near her. irlio outfit t
get a ar. arM.irg new scenes and people.
It is n pity she has bought thrs villa."
"It Is not a had Investment. Bbe might
ell it nny day for a thousand or so more,
than she gave. The owner was very hard
uji for ready money."
"Ah: that's always tho way those that
nave, to them shall be given. And oul
charming friend has a keen appreciutluP
of a bargain:"
"Of course it is in her blood," said
Marsden, laughing. "Now I must go and
look after this sister of mine. Shall jov
see Mrs. Until ven to-day?" ,
"I hope to do so. She fancies she baa
Mine faint clew to the ruffian that robbed
her. I don't believe it myself. It sceml
there is some suspicion about a half-caste,
from I'undleherry. I scarcely know
what." and Shirley pulled himself up. "I
avoid the subject with her now."
"We cannot wonder if she Is a little
.m.rl.id: I shall call at any rate early
to-morrow." They interchanged "good
mornings" and parted.
"I wonder the bereaved widow did no!
tend for me'!" mused Marsden. "Whj
does she hanjr on to that cad?" He walk
ed blowly toward his club. . "I dou't fancy
she cares for him, not now at least I
wish she did or, for any one except my
self I She might have him for a trustee
(.he may have whom she likes. I am well
imt of my difficulties, and I'll take deuced
food care to keep clear of any more. The
fact Is I am very simple in my tastes, only
I fell in with an extravagant setl I wish
Mrs. Kuthven would take her departure
anywhere, even to another world. Has
she made a will? 'Who has she left her
money to? She has no relations. Sup
pose she made me her residuary legatee?
That would be too comic! I wonder why
she is so civil to Nora? She Is always
watching her. She is such a keen devil,
she suspects I am in love with my charm
ins cousin. Ay! but she little knows how
deeply 1 That girl has given mo a fresh
youth and force, and invention. Nothing
shall part us. Itut I must bp cautiour
Tor a littlo longer then then I
So, with head erect, a delicious sense ol
success uplifting his spirit, Marsden stroll
ed down Turk lane and along 1'icadilly.
Reaching hi club, lie found a note from
his sister, commanding rather than invit
ing him to dinner that day. Marsden
felt bound to obey much to his annoy
ance. Lady Dorrington was exceedingly form
idable to him just then. She knew some
thing of his life and embarrassments
and she suspected more. She bad no hesi
tation in questioning him. In the coolest
and most embarrassing manner; more
over, it was exceedingly diflicult to mis
lead her.
Marsden, however, prepared himself for
the ordeal, and "came up smiling" at seven-thirty,
with his pleasnutest, frankest
manner.
"Well, Clifford, and what have yor
oeen doing with yourself siuco we part
ed?" asked I.ady Dorrington, when din
tier was over and they were left alone.
"A great many things. It has been t
beastly time altogether. I was over In
Amsterdam, as you know, nfter these un
lucky jewel I was In great hopes ol
finding a clew there, but it's no use. Mrs.
Kuthven will never see them again. Then
I went to l'arls, to see I3e Meudon. He
was awfully ill. poor fellow gastric fever
or some such thing. I spent a few days,
with him at his villa, and had a talk with
some of the principal jewelers In Paris,
but could find nothing. One of them
suggested the stones might have gone to
New York or Sydney. Then I enme over
here to attend to Mrs. Kuthven's busi
ness she. wns In such a violent hurry
about that villa."
"Is tho affair finished, and the monej
paid down?" sharply-
"Vps," returned Marsden, looking uj
inrprised. "Why do you ask?"
"Thank God!" said Lady Dorrliigtot
tmphatically. "You know I never mince
matters, and I can tell you I was in a
horrid fright about this purchase, lest
well, lest the money for It should not bt
forthcoming In time."
"My dear sister, I am Immensely flat
tered by your high opinion of your only
brother," bowing ironically.
"That is all very Well, Clifford, but I
know you, and I know what temptation
a large sum of money absolutely at your
disposal must be. I dreaded the appoint
ment of a new trustee and the discoveries
he might make; that was one reason why
I was so eager to press your marriage
with Mr.. Kuthven. I am still anxlout
tor it, but not for its. immediate celebra-
tion."
"Isabel!," said Marsden quietly, but In
tone of feeling, while he looked straight
at her, his soft, dark-blue eyes grave j
and reproachful, "I have been reckless,
extravagant, everything I ought not to be,
but to rob a woman, too, of whom I am.
In a sense, the guardian that is an in
famy of which I am incapable." He wai
evidently a good deal moved. "I do no
deserve such suspicions from you."
"Well, I am sure I hope not," cried
Lady Dorrington, with a searching look,
"I beg your pardon; but I confess I have
been terribly uneasy since you paid off
that mortgage of (Ireonwood's, In May.'l
"Ah! yes. I was wonderfully lucky las
ipring. I won a few thousand at Monaco,
and De Mcudon's broker managed to
double them several times over; In short,
I never bad such a chance before, so I
was able to clear Greenwood and one ol
two other small things. Vou may wel'
beg my pardon. If you believed me to b
suc h a bluekguard, how could you can
iKiugh nboi;t me to wish me married t
woman to wisa to sacrifice an
Toman to me?"
"Clifford," cried Lady Dorrington, "1
know that you have very little principle,
yet I am fond of you. I have seen you
(trow up. You have always been nice and
kind to me, and you are the last of out
family. I want to see you well married
and free from the awful temptation ol
money difficulties. If I have done you
ujustlce I am very sorry."
"I can afford to forgive you, Isabella
w If you knew how much I value your
good opinion you would not have wounded
ne as you have done."
Lady Dorrington, quite melted, held
ut her hand, and Maisdeu rose, took It,
ud kissed her brow.
"Now," she resumed cheerfully, after t.
moment's .Hence, "let us talk seriously oi
Tour marriage."
"Must I marry?"
"Why, yes; of course. It Is a specla.
Intervention Of Trovldence that .cut Mrs.
Kuthven in your way and such an at
tractive woman, too."
"Yes, ahe docs her boat in that line."
"And to judge by your conduct, espe
daily the night oi that unlucky ball, she
Is eminently siMeessfuI. You really must
Lot play fast ae loose with a woman'i
ttTectlons."
"Affections! Y'ou don't mean to sa;
you believe Mrs. Kuthven has any affec
tions. She baa vanity, If you like, and
gratifies It unscrupulously; they used to
ell funny stories of her up In the Hills."
"Still, Clifford. I do think she is sin
cerely attached to you; and just consider
what her money would do for you ant'
your estate!"
"I don't think you show much true
friendship for her by trying to marry her
to an Impecunious country gentleman."
"Nonsense! f Y'ou only want a little
ready money to put you straight again,
and the estates would soon recover them
selves." "Give her another chance," pursued
Marsden. "Ask one or two matrimonially
disposed peers to meet her, and see if my
fascinations would counterbalance a coro
net." "I shall do nothing of the kind," crici
Lady Dorrington Impatiently. "I dare
say you are talking' in this strain just to
worry me. I dare say you have made up
your mind to marry her all the time. If
so, do not be too sure of your game be
ware of that Captain Shirley. Ho is a
rival, a masked rival; he Is always hang
ing about, and acting as if he were her
best friend."
"He is decidedly objectionable; but 1
do not fear him."
"You are wrong, Clifford! He is not tt
be despised! I am going to persuade Mrs.
Kuthven to come down with me to Ched
worth. It will draw her away from her
perpetual fretting about those jewels;
these are a perfect craze; and I think
those horrid detectives are playing upon
her credulity; it is a game that pays well."
"I don't believe she Is the sort of woman
to waste her money In any direction. But
she is a little gone off about this unlucky
robbery. Do you know she seemed dis
posed to suspect Shirley himself!"
"Is it possible? Well, she knows him
better than we do. I do not like his coun
tenance!" "Nevertheless, I do not suppose his be
ing objectionable to you is any proof that
he would be guilty of felony," said Mars
den, laughing.
"Of course not! I am not so silly as tc
think any such nonsense! But, seriously,
Clifford, I want you to come down to
Clied worth and help me to cheer up poor
dear Mrs. Kuthven there is very good
shooting, you know how strictly Dorring
ton preserves his game and If yon do
make up your mind to marry Mrs. Kuth
ven which I hope and pray you will
everything might be settled, and the cere
mony could take place early in tho new
year."
"Not so fast, my dear sister. I will do
my best to oblige you; but I make no posi
tive promise. Do not be too sure of your
little game! However, I will so far oblige
you as to bestow the delights of my so
ciety on you for a few days; then I may
be called away, for I have some business
in hand which requires my personal atten
tion. So I will leave the final cheering up
of our fair friend to you."
More than this he would not promise.
Lady Dorrington was therefore forced to
be content. "I hear Mrs. L'Estrang and
Nora are In town? What in the world
are they doing here? Wasting their
money?"
"I suppose they got bored and nervous
at Brookdale. Why should they not be
comfortable and happy? It can cost next
to nothing, Hving as they do."
"Oh, you think people are strictly eco
nomical when they don't drive four-in-hand
and sit down to truffles, pinapples
and pate de fol gras every dny. How
ever, they have a right to please them
selves. I wish Winton would make haste
to marry Nora; it Is tlm. sh. were aet
Jed." "Are you sure he intends to marry
Nora?"
"He Is behaving very badly if he does
not. Why, he almost lived in her house
til the summer, they tell me."
"Is It not just possible he may marry
Mrs. L'Estrange, who was his flame long
ago? It looks to me very like a case of
returning to his first loTe."
"Ah," cried Lady Dorrington. "Is it
possible? That never struck me. I
don't see why it might not turn out very
well, and then Nora need not make any
provision for her little sister; besides, I
have often thought, what a nice match she
would be for Dorrington's nephew, Char
lie Dyson, l'ou know Charlie? A very
good fellow, and getting on very well in
deed at the bar. He would be the very
thing for Nora. If Mrs. L'Estrange goes
to India, we must marry Nora to some
one, she cannot live alone."
"Certainly not; wa must marry her tt
some one," agreed Marsden, with cheerful
alacrity.
"I will ask them all down to Chedworth
for Christmas. It would ba quit excit
ing If th. triple event aame off at my
house."
"It would Indeed. Now," added Mars
den, filling and swallowing a large glass
of sherry, "I must lear you; I have one
or two people to see before I retire to
rest, so good night, slater mine; try and
believe your brother la not a felon!"
"My dear Clifford, how can yon say
inch thiuiai? De Sure you do not lose
money at cards or anything of that kind.
Let me see you to-morrow, and remember,
you have promised to come down next
week to Ched worth."
. . .-
The morning after Lady Dorrington and
ler brother bad dined together Mrs. Kuth
ven received a second visit from Waite.
lie wa. got up in a stylo of the severest
respectability, and Blight from his ap
pearance bar been the secretary of a
benevolent institution. He paused in the
middle of th room, and made a low bow.
Mrs. Kuthven looked at him steadily be
fore speaking, then a smile crept round
W lips.
'I think we have successfully disarmed
iny suspicions or fears Captain Shirley
may have had," she said. "I can afford i
to wait. You have done your work well, I
it only remains to give you your reward."
She opened her cash box, which stood
m a table beside her, and counted out
joma Qts,The maa's area sparkled, as
he watched her! When she stretched out
the notes, which she held loosely, he again
bowed low.
"It has been a difficult business," he
laid, taking them; "perhaps the most diffi
cult I ever undertook, nor could any one
have succeeded bnt for the clew you pos
sessed. You have rewarded me generous
ly, and you will always find me ready to
do your service."
"I shall be more generous," said Mrs.
ituthven eagerly. "If a year passes with
out a whisper, a suspicion of the truth
getting abroad, you shall have twenty-five
pounds. If two years, fifty; after that all
will be safe. But no other creature be
yond you and ma has the faintest inkling
of tho fact, therefore should it be known.
It will be through you. But," she dwelt
an the word, and then paused, "should I
be disposed to open the case, to punish
the the felon" her small hand, which
lay on the table, clinched Itself tightly,
"your evidence will be forthcoming?"
Waite bowed. "Have you brought me the
papers your written account of your
tearch?"
"I have." He drew a long, well-filled
envelope fin his breast pocket and gave
it to ber.
"That is well." She grasped it eagerly.
'Of course," she continued, in a changed
voice, "of course my object is to get bnek
my jewels. If I can do that, I do not
wish to destroy any one. That would do
me no good."
"Certainly not, madame, if it give you
ao particular gratification."
"Y'ou have a wido experience, Mi.
Waite. I suppose human nature does not
seem very estimable to you."
"We know nothing better, and certain
y nothing worse," he returned, philosoph
ically. "At any rate, this especial culprit
has been fortunate. Had you left him
to the regular police, nothing would have
taved him from public trial; but, even with
your help, I doubt if they would ever have
tracked him. Englishmen ore clumsy in
such matters, and I found my nationality,
my familiarity with my father's language,
of important assistance in my researches.
As I said, it Is well for "
"Captain Shirley," cried a waitei,
growing open the door to its fullest ex
tent. Mrs. Kuthven and Waite exchanged a
.ook, and a slight smile passed over the
lips of the latter, while Mrs. Kuthven
rapidly thrust the packet she bad just re
ceived into her cash box and locked it
before she rose to receive the newcomer
with a sweet smile of welcome. '
Waite stood back with an air of extreme
deference.
"Very glad to find you ore looking so
much better," said Shirley, who was neat
er, fresher, keener than ever.
"I am almost myself again," she replied,
men turning to Waite, she said gracious
ly; "I need not detain you longer."
"I wish you good morning, madame,
tnd deeply regret I could not do you better
service."
"I am quite sure you have done your
est. I have your address if I need your
usistance further. Good morning."
(To be continued.)
Cold and Appetite.
Trofeesor Raoul IMctet, as la weii
xnown, has found methods by which
exceedingly low temperatures may be
obtained, Whllo the Arctic regions
provide Bome fairly cold weather say
60 or 75 degrees below zero Fahrenheit
Monsieur I'lctet Is abla to Improve
on nature's achievements, and when
he wishes 150 or 250 degrees below
zero, ho can obtain it. How this Is
done it is unnecessary here to state. It
Is Interesting to study the effects of
such low temperatures on animal life.
Dogs, when Introduced to such nn
environment, stand It well, provided
they are covered in blankets and wool,
and provided tho experiment la a
short one. But a curious fact Is that
whim they come out they are fearfully
hungry.
Having seen that dogs stood the ei
periruent well. Monsieur Tictet tried
the effects of tho intense cold upon
himself, and went down into his "cold
pit" carefully dressed in warm cloth
ing and furs. The temperature was
kept steadily at 110 degrees below
zero, centigrade 100 degrees Fahren
heit
After four minutes Monsieur IMctet
felt very hungry, and was more so
when he put an end to the experiment,
coming out of the cold after eight min
utes. He took a hearty meal and en
Joyed It greatly; tind this seemed all
the more strange because for years he
had not known what It meant to
be hungry. Appetite was a word
without meaning to himi and the di
gestion of each meal was commonly
such a painful process tha,t he ate very
little, and never enjoyed It
He repeaed tho cold treatment daily
for a week, and after eight cold baths
of eight or ten minutes each, his rain
and distress after eating vanished. Ap
petite wns restored and digestion be
came painless.
Since these experiments, now some
months old. Monsieur Tletet has been
in excellent health, and he thinks much
may be accomplished for the relief of
certala diseases by the cold treat
ment, which he calls frlgotherapy.
The Best Thin.to Io.
In a letter to the Sydney (Australia)
Telegraph a missionary on the Fiji Isl
ands writes thus apropos of the Krcat
hurrlcnno: "I most firmly believe that
the best thing a man can do In n hur
ricane Is to keep on praying and nail
ing up diagonal Unices."
France has an a i m num. torpedo
"oat
Tho greatest density of our popula
tion is in the region whre th; mean
annual temperature is fifty to tlfty-iivo
degrees.
In 189.1, 12,102,311 babels of buck
wheat were raised, ground itto meal
ami made into cak-.-s to be duly served
with butter.
Ziramcrmar, the bicyclist, is able to
exert one and a fonrtn horse power for
six seconds at a time. This is equal
to raisiup 188 pounds three feet hih
in one second.
ruradoxical 89 It uv sonud tbre
are severel varities offish that cannot
swim. In every instance they are deep
sea dwellers.
By means of a qualruple effect dis
tilling apparatns thirty-six pounds of
water may lo evaporate! with . oue
pound of coal.
There is a spring on Pecos river in
San Miguel county, New Mexico,
which throws ont a' stream fifteen feet
wide and three feet deep.
Afghanistan has an area of 279,000
miles, or about the combined area of
Idaho, Colorado and Floridp.
More than one third of the foreign
immigration to this county came during
the decade from 1880 to 1890.
FISHINCU,
Alder fish pole, six feet long
Looked quite straight a-growlng;
Home-made fish line, good and strong-
Used for harness sewing;
Hook ma gave me, that she found
Sticking in pa's trousers;
Worms 1 dug out o' the gronnd
My! but they were rousersj.
So I went a-fishing, down
In the white birch chopping.
Waded me and Lnther Brown -
Get our breeches sopping!
But the trout they bit like Sam-'
Just came up a-flying.
Grabbed the worm and then ker-Maa
On the bank were lying.
Feller came along, and said
'Twant the way to take 'em,
Ought to let 'em play, instead
Not haul back and snake 'em,
lowed he'd show us how to do,
With his little feather;
Fished all day, and just caught tw
Laid it to the weather!
Coming back, with pockets fat.
Me and Luther found him.
Fighting skeeters with his hat
'Bout a million 'round him.
Feller said there want no trout
In that dratted holler;
Cussed his luck and bought us out
For a silver dollar!
'-New York Clipper.
ONE evenintr not many years ngo
George Wilson made his way
through one of the streets of
New naven.
His full name, a.i It appeared In the
catalogue of the university, was George
Ellis Wilson, of Smithville, Ta. He had
Just eaten supper, had hurried across
the busy streets and down this little
lane till he came to a dimly lighted
second-hand book store.
After pausing at the threshold long
enough to shake the snow from his coat
he entered.
The air of the room had the musty
odor peculiar to old books, and the lit
tle old man who kept the store seemed
to have absorbed some of the musty
learning of bis shop, such a scholarly
stoop did he have and so dusty werf
his clothes.
An effort had been made to sort some
of the books, and over several shelves
was hung the label "Keliglous," and
over some others "Greek and Latin,'
winie in tue extreme corner were
"Translations."
Wilson eyed these last suspiciously,
for he had "boned" his way through
preparatory school, and he had made
up his mind not to "horse" through col
lege. Turning to the Latin books, he looked
them through till he came to a copy of
Horace, somewhat the worse for wear,
but still serviceable. Wilson glanced
over the pages of the Horace, and, de
ciding that it would answer his pur
pose, paid the old man S3 cents, put the
book In his pocket and went out into
the street.
Tho next morning he got up late, and
in his hurry to get to breakfast put on
the coat Just as he had left It the night
before. At chapel, however, during the
long prayer, while the president was
Imploring "blessings for the heathen in
all lands," under which head Wilson
would have little thought himself in
eluded, be pulled out the Horace and
looked at the fly-leaf.
There were two of the Initials of the
ormer owner, W. B., and his class, 55.
The last name had been carefully
scratched out Up in the corner there
wns a note, evidently written during
ome recitation thirty years before,
"Can you tutor me an hour in trig, to
morrow?" By the time that Wilson had observed
this much the prayer was ended, and
the president was walking down the
middle aisle, while the seniors, in ac
cordance with a custom handed down
from long ago, were making prodigious
bows as he passed, and falling In un
ceremoniously behind him.
Pocketing the book, Wilson returned
to his room, and, after a few prelimln
iries, began to get ready to study.
No one can study a book until be has
thumbed it over and over and made
himself familiar with it. The first
thing Wilson did, therefore, was to
glance over the pages of hla Horace
' and see what sort of a fellow its former
owner was.
On the fifth page he saw something
;hat attracted his attention. Written In
a man's hand in rather small charac
ters, as though the writer would not
. have It too public, and on the inner
edge of the leaf, was the name "Mary."
Smiling to himself, Wilson turned on.
Nothing else noteworthy appeared till
he came to what was evidently a very
diflicult passage on the fifty-first page,
for the leaf was badly worn and soiled,
and written In the same hand as before
were the names "Mollie" and "Mame."
! Wilson turned to the first ode and
worked steadily over the dictionary for
two hours. Then he started for the
recitation room.
i The professor was William H. Hender
son, but the boys always called him
RIIHe behind his back, and occasionally
some one made a slip and called hiir
Billie to his face.
He was very serious, seldom known
to smile, and a regular "grinder." Sto
ries were abundant about some love af
fair that be had while a' student at Yale,
ind of a girl whom he had been engaged
jo who left him for a wealthier man and
i trip to Europe.
But stories about college professor,
ire common, and no one pays much at
tention to them. No one supposed that
B1W. nenawton could, ret Jiftrt
taougnt much ol anytning except Latin,
Every time that Wilson took up his
Horace to study his eye caught sight
of "Mary" or "Mollle" or "Mame."
One day. In looking over the notes In
the back of the book Wilson made a
discovery. Down in tho corner of a
page In the same handwriting was "My
Mary."
"I'd like to know who that fellow wm
ind what became of Mary," thought
Wilson. "What a nice little plot for a
true story J I could make out a whole
love affair from these names In the
book. Let's see. Something like this:
"Chapter L Student comes to New
flaven from Western home, Js hazed,
meets a pretty girl, name Mary some
thing or other; tries to study Horace
and finds himself writing 'Mary' In his
book.
"Chapter IL Takes her to glee clnl
.oncert, borrows money for the ticket!
and gets uncomfortably In debt, be
comes absent-minded and begins to
write 'Mollie' and Mame.'
"Chapter III. Scene A beantifu
parlor; Mary, beautiful and collected,
seated on a sofa. Student, with one
band In coat packet, standing by grate
fire, with one elbow on mantel. He com
plains of his hard luck in Horace; is
sure to flunk on exam. Mary consoles
him tenderly. Student goes over to
sofa, looks into Mary's dark eyes, tells
her the trouble is that his Horace sings
of no one but Mary, and that the ret of
his fellows and the professor don't
translate that way. Mary blushes
beautifully. He takes her hand and
they are very happy.
"Chapter IV. The fellow goes to hh
room and writes 'My Mary' In his Hor
ace and flunks on the exam."
Suddenly another idea struck him
fie turned around and started for his
room. On reaching it he took a trien
nial catalogue and looked through to
see what names In the class of '53 had
the initials W. B. To his perplexity
he found several names with these
nitials.
"Well, If there Isn't Blllle Hender
.ion's name! I never thought of it, but
I suppose his name Is really William,"
said Wilson to himself. "He could
never have owned this book, though,
for he must have been a regular
grind." '
The term was drawing to a clos
then one day Frof. Henderson an
nounced to his class that they should
bring their own copies of Horace to
the class-room on the next day. They
would do some reading at sight, he ex
plained, and the class would be allowed
to use w hat notes were to be found in
their books. The next day, therefore.
Wilson took his Horace to class.
The passage which was assigned K
aim was the one which the former own
er had found so difficult and had sought
relief for his feelings by writing
"Mame" and "Mollie" on the margin
of the page. Wilson, however, buckled
lu manfully, and when called on
translated with some fluency and sat
down.
The professor looked over the top o.
als glasses and said, rather sternly: "I
do not understand, Mr. Wilson, how
you obtain the meanings that you give
to some of the words."
Wilson hesitated a moment, and thei
a happy thought struck him. Something
that he had seen in the notes came to
his mind.
"I think, professor," he said, "that mj
text must differ from yours."
"Ah!" said the professor. "Let m
see your text."
The professor took the book am
glanced over tho page. His expressiot
changed In a moment. Old memories
seemed to come up, and he leaned his
head on his hand and looked steadily at
the book.
Finally he raised his eyes, and, hand
Ing the book to Wilson, said: "You are
quite right, Mr. Wilson."
After the recitation was over Frof
Henderson called Wilson to bis desk.
"I should like, Mr. Wilson," he said,
"to obtain that copy of Horace from
you when you are through with It, If
you have no objection to parting with
it It's an odd edition, you know," he
added, in explanation, "and I I should
like to have it to compare with othet
texts."
"Well, I'll be blowed!" exclaimed Wii
son, as soon as he was well away from
the recitation-room. "Who would have
thought it!"
And he buttoned up his coat and hur
ried to his room to tell the story t
Johnson. Chicago News.
Consul Doty's Kanaka Wife.
The telegraph brought the news a
few days ago that J. Lamb Doty, Amer
ican Consul to the Society Islands, had
married a native, a half caste, and had
et up housekeeping. It seems that the
slrl bears the name Mueva Turnero
Kauri, and she Is said to hare) brought
a neat dowry to her husband. She is
only 16, and Doty first met her a few
months ago on the beach of a neighbor
ing island, where she was trying to
bring to shore her capsized canoe.
Youns Doty Induced her to elope to
another Island, where he married her
according to the simple native formula,
which merely requires that the con
tracting parties eat togather and make
a number of pledges. No wedding ring
Is required, no cake, no clergyman's
fees, and no license. When Doty re
turned to Tahiti with his bride, he
rented a house, and the pair are now
living In South Sea Island style, with a .
good stock of cocoa nuts and taro root.
The girl's guardian appeared soon after ,
they set up housekeeping and wanted ,
to take her back to his house, but Doty '
showed him this would be unwise anl
he consented to let her remain.
Young Doty was not of age wheu '
Cleveland appointed him Consul at
Tahiti nine years ago. Since then be
has been a South Sea masher, for ha i
has been engaged to two Island prin-'
cesses, but in each case the relatives
prevented marriage. Doty la well
known In Washington, .where he has
Influential relatives. His mother has
a close friend In Ambassador Bayard,
and his brother Is an Episcopalian clef- i
gyman In Washington. He was a bright '
boy, who first started as a page In the '
House, but since he has been In the
south seas ha has developed many so 1
vntrlcltles.
Wa hope that when the girls go to
heaven, their robes will not gap In the
back, and be a source of inHnual
worry.
THE STEAMSHIP KORTHWEST
One of th Ideal Water Palacaf
Planned by Jamea J. HUL.
, I HE steamship Northwest la out
I of the Ideal water palaces planned
by J. J. Hill, president of tht
Great Northern Ball way, for the freight
and passenger traffic of his line be
tween Duluth and Buffalo. She 1st tht
largest combination
boat afloat on th
CTeat lakes, steel
ribbed and braced,
hlgh-prowed, and
with the weathei
capacity e f at
ocean steamer. Shi
is compartment
built for both
water and air, and
her architectural
' "nxx. unes are drawn on
th basis of what Is called Clyde de
signs. She Is one of the fleet ef the
Northern Steamship Company, and
was built with an eye to the future
possibility of her traveling between
Duluth and England, should American
waterways ever exist with sufficient
carrying capacity to bring the com
tierce of the seas Inland.
Like all the boats of the Northern
Line, she Is white in color, with high
water line, double decks, double cab
fns, and her motive power under water.
Triple compound engines of the latest
STEAMSHIP JTOBTHWXST.
pattern operate her, while her equip
ment for times of danger is double that
of any boat on the lake. She was es
pecially constructed for heavy weather
and large carrying capacity, with
maximum of safety.
A Mountain Tragedy.
I was traveling over the Cohequld
mountains when balled by a shabbily
dressed woman standing in the door
ray of a cabin.
"Halt, stranger," she said In the sharp
nasal tones of the people of that dis
trict. "Air ye goln' to the stoahT'
I told her I was going to the village
hist beyond and asked if I could do
tnythlng for her.
"Ye kin, shore. I can't leave little
Dave an' he's crying for a pah of new
shoes. Ain't never walked a step In
his life, an' he's six years old thi
spring. Ain't never had no shoes, eye
ther, but he's spUIn' dear-though for a
paih now. Heah's the chink to get 'em
with an' somefin ovah f oh yo' trouble."
And she turned out some loose changr
'rom a cup aha held In her hand.
1 told her I would get the money when
I brought the shoes, and she gave me a
slip of paper which was just the length
of little Dave's foot, and I rode off and
was gone all day, going back In the
lhadow of the evening In an atmosphere
of fresh spring odors. The cabin door
was closed, but Just outside sat a gaunt
man with a rifle across his knee. He
looked at me as If he saw me not.
"Good evening."
"Evenin."
"Is the woman In?"
. "She air."
"I've brought little Dave's shoes.
"You're plumb too late,"
"Is he--"
"Gone evah the divide."
I handed him the shoes, saying gently
s I could:
"Perhaps the little chap would Ukr
to wear them now."
He comprehended, but shook his
head as he took them, and I rode away,
hearing on the still night air the wail
ing cry of a woman and trying to con
lure In my mtnd a picture of the Uttl
hap who had "never walked."
On the Wall of Pasteur's Laboratory
rasteur Is the most distinguished
graduate of the Paris Ecole Normale,
which has Just celebrated its hun
dredth anniversary. In commemora
tion of the event a tablet of black mar
ble has been placed on the wall of his
laboratory In the old Rue dLTm, now
Rue Pasteur, Inscribed: "Here stood
Pasteur's laboratory, 1S37 (fermenta
tions), 1S60 (spontaneous generation),
1865, (disease of wines and beers), 18S3
(silkworm distempers), 1S81 (virus and
vaccine), 1S64-18SS (hydrophobia reme
dies)." Above Is a medallion with th
"etters L. P. Interlaced.
Pertinacious.
Whlttier was frequently annoyed by
admiring strangers who not only called
on him, but thriftily Insisted on put
ting up with him all night "Thee has
no idea," said bis sister, "how much
time Greenleaf spends trying to lose
these people in the streets. Sometimes
he comes home and says, 'WelL sister,
I hnd hard work to lose him, but I have
lost him. But I can never lose a her.
Then women are more pertinacious
than the men; don't thee find them so
Uariar "
Vroteotlna French Vines from Frost
Frost bells are tolled In some dis
tricts of France when frost is threat
ened. Immediately the inhabitants
place qualities of tar between the rows
of grape Tines. The tar is lighted and
volume of dense smoke arise, which
protects the Tinea.
Cycling Bard on Doctors.
"Yes," aald a well-known Minneap
olis physician the other day, "the bi
cycling erase la hard on the doctors.
Why, to-day aa I was coming down
town I saw a man who owes ma $50
tiding a brand-new wheel, and a few
minutes later his son passed on a new
wheat, too. Yea, It Is hard oa as do
toskt -
P.DiLTBiPL
The Brooklyn Divine's Sunday
Sermon.
Subject: "The Unpardonable Sin."
Texts: "All manner of sin and blam.hom-
shall be forgiven unto men. but the bla
phemy against the Holy Ghost shall not N
forgiven unto men. And whosoever speakett
word against the Son of Han It shall be fop
(riven htm, bnt whosoever speaketh against
the Holy Ghost it shall not be forgiven him
neither In this world, neither in the world t
roT-." Matthew xil., 31, 31 "He found nt
p of rnpentanee. though he sought t
chav uily with tears.'' Hebrews xii., 17.
As sometimes yon gather the whole famil)
around the evening stand to hear some book
read, so now we gather, a great Christian
family group, to study this text, and now
may one ana toe same lamp cast its glow ol
all the circle.
You see from the first passaen that I read
that there is a sin against the Holy Ghost fot
Iwhioh a man is never pardoned. One
having committed it, he is bound hand and
foot for the dungeons of despair. Kttrmons
Itiavhff nrfulliml to lilm onniu mnv ) m ai,n
to him, prayers may be offered iu his behalf.
um an to no purpose, tie is a captive forthis
world and a captive for the world that Is to
come. Do you suppose that there is any on
nerewnonas committed that sin? All Rim
are against the Holy GhoBt. but my text
speaks of one especially. It is very cl-ar tc
my mind that the sin against the Holy Ghost
wns tne aseriuing ot tne worKs ot tho spirit
to the agency of the devil in the time of th
apostles.
There in an impression in almost everj
man's mind that somewhere in the futurn
there will be a chani-e where he can correct
all his mistakes. Live as wo may, if w
only repent in time God will forgive us, and
then all will be as well as thoueh wuhal
never committed sin. My discourse shall
come in collision with that theory. I shal
show you. my friends, as God will help me,
that there is such a thing as unsuccessful
repentance; that there are things clone wronij
that always stay wrong, and for them yoi:
may seek some place of repentance and seek
It carefully, but never And it.
Belonging to this ela-s of irrevoeaiilo mis
takes is the foil v of a misspent youth. We
may look back to our college days and think
how we neglected chemistrv or geology oi
botany or mathematics. We may be sorry
about it all our days. Can we ever get the
discipline or the advantage that we would
have had had we attended to those duties in
early life? A man wake up at forty year
of age and finds that his youth has been
wasted, and he strives to get back his enrlt
advantages. Doe. he get them back thi
days of boyhood, the days in college, the
days under his father's roof? "Oh." he says,
"if I could only get those times back again,
how I would improve thero!" My brother,
you will never got them back. They are
gone. gone. You may be very sorry about
It, and God may forgive, so that you may al
last roach heaven, but you will never get
over sonw of the mishaps that have come to
your soul as a result of your neglect of early
duty. Yon may try to undo it; you cannot
undo it. When you hnd a boy's arms, and s
boy's eyes, and a boy's heart, you ought to
have attended to thosnthings. A man says
it fifty years of age. "I do wish I could get
over these habits of indolence." When 'did
you get them? At twenty or twenty-five
fears of age. l'ou eaimot shake them off.
they will hang to you to the very day of
four death. If a young man through a long
eourse of evil eonduiit undermines his physi
cal health and then repents of it in afterlife,
the Lord may pardon him. but that does not
brjtig back good physical condition. I said
lo a minister of the gospel one Sabbath at the
Jlose of the service, '-Where are you preach
ing now?" "Oh." lie says. "I am not preach
ing. I am suffering from the physical effect"
f earlysin. 1 can't preach now; I amsick."
a consecrated man he now is, and he mouraf
bitterly over early sins, but that does not
rrest their bodily effects.
The simple fact is that men and womet
Slten take twenty years ot their life to build
np influences that require all the rest ol
their life to break down. Talk about a man
beginning life when he is tweuy-ono years
of age; talk about a woman beginning life
when she is eighteen years of age! Ah, no!
la many respects that is the time they close
life, la nine cases out of ten all the ques
tions of eternity are deeided before that.
Talk about a majority of men getting their
fortunes between thirty and forty years!
They get cr lose fortunes between ten and
twenty. When you tell me that a man is
just beginning life, I tell you he is just clos
ing It. The next lifty years will not be of as
jiuch importance to him as the first twenty.
Now. why do I say this? Is it for the
innoyam-e of those who have only a baleful
retrospection? You know that is not my
way. I say it for the benefit of young men
ind women. I wantthem to understand that
eternity is wrapped ujt in this hour; that the
lins of youth we never get over; that you e re
bow fashioning the mold in which your
treat future is to run; that a minute, ii
Itead of being sixty seconds long, is ma.Ae
np of everlasting ages. You can see whr.t
dignity and importance this gives to the
life of all our young folks. Why, in tha
light of this subject life is not something to
be frittered away, not something to be
imirked about, not something to be dance 1
but, but something to be weighed in the
balances ot eternity. Oh, youug man, the
lin of yesterday, the sin of to-morrow will
reacD over lu.OOO years aye, over the great
nd unending eternity. You may after
while say: "I am very sorry. Now I have
rot to be thirty or forty years of age, and I
lo wish I had never committed those sins."
ft'hat does that amount to? God may par
Ion you, but undo those things you never
will, you never can.
In this same category of Irrevocable mi
takes I put all parental neglect. We begin
the education of our children too late, lly
Ihe time they get to be ten or fifteen we wake
op to our mistakes aud try to eradicate this
bad habit ami change that, but it is too late.
That parent who omits In the first ten years
at the child's life to make an eternal impres
lon for Christ never makes it. The child
will probably go on with ail the disadvan
tages, which might liv been avoided bf
pareutal faithfulness. Now you see what a
tnlstako that father or mother makes who
puts off to late life adherence to Christ.
Here is a man who at fifty years of age sayi
to you, "I must bo a Christian," and ha
yields his heart to God and sits in the place
of prayer to-day a Christian. None of us
can doubt It. He goes home, aud he says:
'Here at fifty years of age I have given my
heart to the Saviour. Now I must establish
i family altar." What? Where are your
children now? One in Boston, another in
Cincinnati, another in New Orleans.and you,
my brother, at your fiftieth year going to
establish your family altar? Very well, bet
ter late than never, but alas, alas, that yev
did not do it twenty-nve years ago!
When 1 was in Cbamouni, Switzerland
I saw In the window of one of the shops a
picture that Impressed my mind very much,
it was a picture of an aceident that occurred
on the side of one of the Swiss mountains.
A company of travelers, with guides, went
tp me very steep places places whichbut
iew travelers attempted to go up. xhef
were, as all travelers are there, fastened to
gether with cords at the waist, so that if one
slipped the rope would hold him, the rope
fastened to the others. Passing along tha
most dangerous point, one of the guides
slipped and they all started down the preci
pice. But after awhile one more musculni
than the rest struck his heels into the lea
and stopped, but the rope broke, and down,
hundreds and thousands of feet, the res'
sent.
And so I see wholo families bound to
gether by ties of affection and in many cases
walking on slippery places of worldlinesf
and sin. The father knows It, and the
mother knows it, and they are bound all to
gether. After awhile they begin to slidi
down stnener and steeoer. and the fathei
becomes alarmed, and he stops, planting hii
"feetTon the "rock of agee. He stops, buj
the rope breaks, and those who were onet
tied fast to him by moral an 1 spiritual in.
fluenees go over the precipice. On, there i
inch a thing as coming to Christ soonenougt
to save ourselves, but not soon enough tt
a ve others.
How many parents wake np In the lattei
part of life fp find out the mistake! The par-
i-nt say3, "I have been too lenient," or "1
have been too severe in the discipline of my
children. If I had the iittle ones around u
gain, how different I would do!" Y'ou will
never have them around again. The work is
lone; the bent to the character is given; tha
Itemity is decided. I say this to young par
ents, those who are twenty-five and thirty
r thirty-five years ot age have the family
kltar to-night. How do you suppose that
father felt as he leaned over the couch of his
dying child, ami the expiring son said to
hluii "Father, you have been very good tc
aie. Y'ou have given me a fine education
ind you have placed me in a fine social pe
tition : you have dono everything for mo in
t worldly sense: but, father, you never told
re how to die. Now I am dving, and I am
ifraid."
In this category of Irrevocable mistakes I
place also the unkinduesses done the de
parted. When I was a dov, my mother used
io say to me sometimes, 4,De Witt, you will
36 sorry for that when I am gone." And I
remember just how she looked, sitting theni
irith cap and spectacles and the old Bible in,
ler lap, and she never said atruerthingthaa
that, for I have often been sorry since.
While we have our friends with us we say
unguarded ttiintrs that wound the feelings of
those to whom we'ought to give nothing but
kindness. Perhaps the parent, without In
quiring into tha matter, boxes the child's
fars. The little one. who has fallen in th
itreet. comes in covered with dust, and a
ihough the first disaster were not enough she
whips it." After a whilo the child is taken,
jr tho parent is taken, or the companion is
taken, and those who are left say: ''Oh,
if we could only get back those unkind
words, those unkind deeds! If wo could
jnly recall them!" Hut you cannot get
:hem back. Y'ou might bow down over
iie grave of that loved one and cry and
sry and cry. The white iips would make no
inswer. The stars shall be vilucke l out of
heir sookets, but these Influences shall not
e torn away. The world shall die, but
Jiere are some wrongs immortal. Tho
jioral of which is, take care of your friend
rhiloyon have tliem. Spare tho scolding.
Be economical of tho satire. Shut up in a
lark cave from which thev shall nuverswarm
rth all the wordsthathavo asting in them.
ron will wish you had somo day very soon
fou will, perhaps to-morrow. Oh, yes.
ft'hilo with a firm hand you administer par
?ntal discipline also administer it very
tently. lest some day thero be a littlo slab
n the cemetery anil on it chiseled, "Our
ft'illie," or "Our Charlie," and though you
low down prone in the grave and seek a
lace of repentence and seek it carefully
Vith tears, you cannot find it.
Thera is another sin that I placo In the
lass of irrevocable mistakes, and that is
ost opportunities of getting good. I never
tometo a Saturday night but lean ee dur
jigthat week that I have missed opportun
ties of getting good. I never come to my
lirtliday but I can see that I have wasted
nany chances of getting lietter. I never go
lome on Sabbath from the discussion of a
-eligious theme without fieliiig that 1 might
lave done it in a more successful way. How
s it with you? If you take a certain number
f bushels of wheat and scatter them ovtra
jertain number of acres of land, you expect
harvest in proportion to tho amount ot
ieed scattered. Anil I ak yon now, Havo
"ho sheaves ot moral and spiritual harvest
torresponded with the advantages given?
How has it been with you? Y'ou may make
resolutions for the future, but past opportun
ities are gone. In the long procession of future
fears all those post moments will march, but
the archangel's trumpet that wakes the dead
rill not wake up for you one of those privi
ged. Esau has sold his birthright, and thero
s not wealth enough in the treasure houses
)f heaven to buy it back again. What does
iat mean? Ii means that if you are going to
ret any advantage out of this babbatn dny
fou will have to get it before the hand wheels
tround on the clock to 12 to-night. It means
liat every moment of our life has two wings.
ind that it does not ny like a nawk in cir
lles, but in a straight line from eternity to
iternity. It means that, though other
thariots may break down or drag heavily,
iiis one never drops tho brake and never
eases to run. It means that whilo at other
feasts the cup may be pa'sed to us and we
nay reject it, and yet nfter awhile take it,
'he cupbearers to this feast never give us but
)ne chance at the chalice, and rejecting that
ire shall "find no place for repentance,
hough we seek it carefully with tears."
There is one more class of sins that I put
a this category of irrevocable sins aud that
s lost opportunities of usefulness. Your
usiness partner is a proud man. In ordi
jary circumstances say to him, "Believe in
hrist, and he will say. "ion mind your
justness and I'll mind mine." But there hm
leen affliction lu the household. His heart
S tender. Ho is looking arouud for svtn
)atbv and solace. Now is your rime. Speak,
ipeak, or forever hold your peace. There is
t time in farm life when you plant the corn
md when you sow the seed. Let that go by,
tnd the farmer will wring his hauds while
Hher husbaudmea are gathering in tlm
iheaves. You are in a religious meeting,
indthere is au opportunity for you to seak
I word for Christ. You say, "I must do it."
four cheek flushes with embarrassment.
fou rise half way, but you cower before men
rhose breath Is in their nostrils, and you
lag back, aud tlm opportunity is gone,
ind all eternity will feel the effect
t your alienee. Try to get back
hat opportunity! Y'ou cannot find it.
fou might as well try to find tho fleece thai
Uldeon watched, or take in your hand the
lew that came down on tho locks of tht
Bethlehem shepherds, or to II ml tlm plume ol
;he nrst robin that went across paradise. II
is gone it is gone forever. When an oppor-
;umty for personal rcpeutancu or of doing
ood passes away, you may hunt for it; you
;annot flud it. You may lish for it; it will
aot take the hook. You may dig for it; you
;annot bring it up. Itemember that there
re wrongs and sins that can never bo cor
rected ; that our privileges fly not in circles,
but in a straight line; that the lightnings
bavenot as swift feet as our privileges when
they are gone, and let an opportunity of sal
vation go by us an inch the one-huudretli
("art of an invb, the thousandth part of an
neb, the millionth part of an inch an I no
man can overtake It. Fire winged seraphim
cannot come up with it. Tho eternal GoJ
Uimself cannot catch it.
I stand before those who hav a glorioui
birthright. Esau's was not so rich m yours.
Sell it once, aui you sell it Ior;ver. I re
member the story of the lad on the AretM
lome vears ago the lad btewart Holland.
A vessel crashed into the Arctic in the timo
of a fog, and it was found that the ship
must go down. Home of tho passenger
got oft in the life"oats, some got off oa
rafts, but 3D0 went to the bottom. During
all those hours ot calamity Stewart Hol
land stood at the signal gun and it sounded
across the sea boom, boom! The helms
man forsook his place; tins engineer was
gone, and some fainted, nud some prayed,
and some blasphemed, und tho powder wol
gone, and they could uo more set off the sig
nal gun. lue lad Drone in memagiizineauu
brought out more powder, and again the gun
boomed over the sea. Oh, my friends, tossed
oa the rough seas of lite, some have taken
the warning, havo gone off in the lifeboat,
and they are safe, but others are not making
any attempt to escape. So I stand at this sig
nal gun of tho gospel, sounding the alarm,
beware, bewarol "Now is the accepted time.
Now is the day of salvation." Hear it that
your soul may live.
A Shaft to Be Sunk One Mile.
Sod was cut at Calumet. Mich., for shaM
No. 5, Tamarack mine. The shaft will be
large enough for eight compartments aud
will extend vertically almost one mile intc
the earth bufore striking copper lead. It will
require four Years working, day and night
with powerful dynamite to reactt the vein.
He who has seen the light is sure
of his way.
The average life ot a locomotive is
eaid to be about fifteen years and tha
earning capacity $30(1,000.
According to English authority
the bankruptcies in England and Wales
average 120 weekly.
The annual army expenditure of
Greece is 13,000,000 drachma. A drach
ma is about twenty cents.
The army and navy of tie Argen
tine Confederation are kept up at an
annual cost of $13,000,000.
The territory of ancient Troy and
that of the District of Columbia, are
qual, to seventy square miles.
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