- 1 - - .'
A - n
filial
V. BOHWEIEB,
THE OON8TITUTION-THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE IAWB.
id Props
VOL. XLIX
MIFFLINTOWN. JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. DECEMBER 4. 1895.
NO. 51.
Sfepltotti
I
CHAPTER XV.
Colonel Prinsep was paying one of hii
usual visits round the regimental Institu.
tions on the following morning whea
looking in at the library, he saw a mus
stretched on one of the benches fast
asleep.
Stepping forward, he saw, as he shook
him somewhat roughly by the arm, tha
triple chevron upon his sleeve; and as
the man thus suddenly roused stumbled
clumsily on to his feet, the Colonel identi
fied him as Sergeant Lynn. His whole
appearance showed without doubt that ha
was recovering from a fit of-drunkenness,
perhaps of some duration.
The Colonel gazed at him sternly, as,
having recognized his commanding offi
cer, he saluted, and stood shamefacedly
before him.
"Sergeant Lynn, it seems that the re
ports of your intemperance which reached
me were not unfounded. Hnd you been
wanted for duty Inst night you would
have been found incapable."
The Sergeant's head droped still lonr.
"Yes. sir. I did take more tlinn I ought.
I can't help it. Things have been against
me lately, and I am driven to drink a.
times."
"What do you mean? Up to now I
have promoted you as far as was in tny
iiower.'
"Promotion!" tvieiited Lynn, with no
imlo.-ile laugh. "What gooil is promotion
to me unless you could give me a com
mission'? And even then 1 dare say shr
Would not have me."
"I should My not, if she saw you in
jour present condition. You don't mean
to say that a woman is the cause of youi
drinking?" asked the Colonel, coiitemp
ttiously.
"Onise enough." he answered, dogged
ly. " :i!y three days ago she repented
her promise to marry me; and last night
lit the sergeants' mess it was common
talk that the Adjutant was always at hoi
house, an. I was said to be engaged t
her."
"Yon talk like a fool. Sergeant Lynn.
I would advise you to follow a steadier,
more manly course, and not offer sueli
childish reasons as a cause for ruining
your hole career, and for the preseut
Sergeant Lynn. I withhold my perinissior
for you to marry." he added, shnrpl.v-
"Ah. sir. 1 thought it would come tr
that when you knew whom I was asking
for!" said the Sergeant, with a rebellioul
look.
"I don't know whom yon want to marry
nor do I care."
And the Colonel, now seriously di
pleased, turned to leave the library.
"I beg your pardon, sir. It is the Quar
termnster's daughter."
"What Quartermaster' daughter?
cried the Colonel, in a voice of thunder;
"Jane Knox, dir."
At this familiar mention of the nam
borne by the girl he loved, Stephen Prin
sep only refrained by an effort from re
venging the insult with a blow. Th
recollection that he was Colonel and thil
braggart a sergeant in his regiment kep
the impulse in subjection.
He was close to his own gates now.
and before he turned into the carriago
drive he heard a noise behind him, and
turning mechanically, he saw it was th
Quartermaster riiii g after him.
"1 wanted to slunk to you, sir," li
announced a little breathlessly, as h(
trotted up.
The Colonel started. Conld it be tha'
he was to hear the solution of this mys
tery now? Not urgent not on a mill
tary matter, or what should prevent iti
being discussed In the orderly-room!
Only one conclusion remained it must b
on some private affair, and just then at
private affairs seemed to the Colonel if
point to Jane.
"Come in and have a peg," he said,
somewhat shortly, and cantered on to
ward the bnngalow. 1
After a hasty draught of Iced water
Colonel Prinsep had thrown himself back
In an easy chair, and sat waiting for th
Quartermaster to speak again. He want,
ed to hear what he had to say, yet, afraid
of appearing Inconsistent, hesitated tr"
ask outright.
"What la this affair of which yon wish
ed to speak to me, Knox?" the Coloue
asked abruptly.
"It is nothing of actual Importance,
air, yet I think yon ought to hear It first
from ns. Jenny thought ao "
"Miss Knox thought I ought to know?"
"Yes; she said yon would have reason
to bo offended if Sergeant Lynn spoki
to you on the subject first."
"Out with It, man. What is this mighty
matter?" cried the Colonel, sharply, as h
leaned forward In his chair as thougt
to forestall the answer. This snspenst
was horrible, let the denouement mlgl
be worse.
"You see she Is engaged to him."
"Then it is true?"
"Yes. It is true."
"Good heavens. It Is sacrilege! ejao
Olated Colonel Prinsep, fiercely.
The Quartermaster passed his finger)
through his hnir In some bewilderment.
His eyes followed the Colonel as h
Impatiently paced the room, and he wai
atill pondering a reply when his com
manding officer spoke agin.
"You must stop it Knox; yon must sto
It on any plea," he declared, earnestly. .
A new discovery broke suddenly npor
the Quartermaster. This agitation of th I
Colonel, coupled with the indispositiof
he had pleaded a short time before, coulc
only point to the one conclusion, and hi
would not have been human had he no
felt gratified at the knowledge that hi
daughter had won the love of such a mar
as Stephen Prinsep, independent of bit
rank and station. For n moment he evei
regretted that she had already bound her
self, and then felt a little shame at tin
worldliness of his ideas, which gave I
certain stiffness to his reply.
"I have already given my consent, am
honor my daughter for her faithful"
tjesa."
"And," continued the Colonel, "ia Ser
gennt Lynn mind, I say nothing against
him; you are probably a better judgo of
his character than I but, I repeat, is ha
the sort of husband yon would hav
vaosen for your daughter?
1
have promised,"
m i
stammered tha I
Quartermaster, after a few moments ra
Wn n . . . . . , ... i
l he Colonel then shook hands witn ma
Uitct iULhs sUrteU to go, We-
companies nim to the door of the hangs
low; but he heaved an audible sigh of re
lief as he was lost to sight.
He went back into his sitting-room, and
laying hit arms upon the table, rested hia
head upon them. All his plana for tha
future were frustrated all his hopes
quenched, and in such a manner that
feeling no doubt aa to the issue a keener
pang was added to hia sufferings.
CHAPTER XVI.
The Quartermaster went home at a
smart trot, full of the discovery that ha
uui made.
Directly he entered the room when
Mrs. Knox was seated, as nsual, before
her sewing machine, she divined that ha
had something to tell her, and attacked
him at once with a question aa to whert
he hnd been.
He hesitated for a moment, feeling tha
full Importance of the revelation he had
to make.
"I have been to see the Colonel,' ha
answered, slowly.
"Whut about?"
"I went," continued her husband, in
the same slow, impressive tones "I went
to tell the Colonel of June's engagement
to Jacob Lynn."
" hat on earth possessed you, John,
to take such a senseless step? she ex
claimed, in her astonishment, forgetting
to be angry. And then, us he remained
silent, she went on: "Hesides. I am by
no means certain that that engagement
still holds good. June has never even
mentioned hia name siuce her return
irom .;awiiHre, aud 1 think there ia
every reason to hope she repents her first
thoughtless promise.
"No, no, wife, yon are quite mistaken,
he answered, kindly, feeling sorry for her
iIisapiHiintmeiit, and understanding how
it would vex her the more when she heard
all the truth. "Jenny has seen the Ser
geant again and renewed her promise; it
was by her request I went aud told the
Colonel."
"Without consulting me?" she gasped
out, when she had recovered herself suffi
ciently to speak.
But when the Quartermaster once as
serted himself he was not easily put
down, even by his wife.
"I had made up my mind to do as the
child wished me, wife, and so it would
have been a useless discussion. Y'ou
would have contested the point, of course
but I had made up my mind."
"And now the whole affair will become
public," she complained, bitterly.
"Not necessarily. The Colonel himselt
advised that we should keep it quiet ns
long as possible."
"Was he against it?" she asked quick
ly, in a Toice that agitation had mad
more than unusually sharp.
"Y'es, he was decidedly against it."
"Why tell me why, John?"
"I don't think you will believe me when
I do tell you."
"Why why?" she repeated.
"Becaave he is himself in love with our
Jane."
Had a thunderbolt fallen at her feet
she could not have been more surprised.
"Does she know?" was her first ques
tion. "I don't suppose she does," answered
the simple-minded Quartermaster, "for I
think, if he had anything to say to her,
he would have told me when we were on
the subject."
"Y'ou ought to insist upon her being sen
sible in so important a matter," aaid Mrs.
Knox, eagerly.
"If you can't manage her, Mary, how
should I?" smiling. "Itesides. I think she
is right to hold to her word, though I
know she might do better."
"Better! Why, it would be a brilliant
match, John."
"Y'ou go too fast, wife too fast. It is
not to be supposed that, because the Col
onel is in love with Jane, he is therefore
prepared to ask her hand in marriage.
No, no; he'll go away for a few months,
and when he comes back will have for
gotten all about it. Kven had she been
free I don't suppose he would have con
templated such an act. A man like our
Colonel ia justified in looking high for bi
wife."
"He would never get a lovelier wife
than Jane, nor one truer or sweeter."
"How Inconsistent women are! Just
now you were complaining of her truth,
and now you praise her for it."
"It ia possible to carry a thing to ex
cess; then truth becomes obstinacy," re
turned Mrs. Knox.
When, a little after five o'clock, she saw
Colonel Prinsep coming up the drive, sh
iresolved to do her best to persuade him tc
-range himself actively upon her side.
"My husband was with you this morn
ing. she began.
"Y'es, he came to see me, and talked
over some affairs."
"And I wish to speak to you also. Col
onel Prinsep."
"I shall be very glad to hear what yor,
have to say, and to help you if I can."
"You can help If you will," meaningly.
"I would rather you doubted my powei
than my anxiety to oblige," he returned,
smiling.
"It is atiout my daughter. Colonel."
"About Miss Knox?" he repeated, ni
she hesitated.
Then she went on, with emotion.
"Y'ou know all I said to you the othei
.lav about Sergeant Lynn. Well, I say
it all still, but with greater warmth ami
with more hope of a favorable reply, foi
now 1 can confess what you alreadj
know that 1 am pleading for my daugh
ter."
"I wonder I did not guess it then," h
remarked, gravely.
"But you know it now, and n will
listen to a mother's prayer; yon will sav-f
ber from this horrible fate?"
"I save her I?"
"Who else? It is only yon who hnva
the power. In the regiment you are a
king, and no one will question what you
command. Y'ou have only to send hint
to Kngland anywhere out of Jane'i
way." .
"Y'ou give me credit for a despotla
sway, and that I do not hold. She would
answer, with justice, that I had no right
to interfere. However," he added, quick
ly, as Mrs. Knox's countenance fell, "I
will do what I can. Shall I go to her
now?"
She led the way to the honse and into
the drawing-room, where, in the center of
the room, Jane stood, aa though expect
ing his arrival. Her head was erect; but)
tne lime nanus were uguuy ucmura,
and there was . expreMOII of defiance
K bn who,e attltode ft augured badly
for the succesa of hia misaion.
..j...- finnl PrinMO fcaa aDMta
,M -Ky-
sneak to yon, at my express wish and
with my permission. 1 hope yon will give
every attention to what he has to say,"
said Mrs. Knox in her most didactic man
ner, and left the two together.
He looked at her sadly, gravely: and for
awhile she returned his gaze with one of
equal power then gradually an over
whelming sense of shame caused her to
turn away ber face, blushing.
"What is it you wish me to do? she
asked.
"I wish you to break that unconsidered
promise," he replied, firmly.
She turned on him fiercely, her pretty
figure drawn to its full height, and tha
golden light in her hazel eyes, which al
ways came there from excitement.
"And that is your advice? I wonder
women are ever honorable and true, for
everything seems to combine to make
them neither. A woman's promise la
made to be broken. A man's honor ia in
violable. ''Granted all granted, he returned,
hia quietness contrasting strangely with
the force of her indignation. "Yet I re
peat my reqneat. It la easier to regret a
broken, promise than a. ruined ma,". .
"And if his Jacob Lynn's life should
be ruined, hia trust in all things shaken
by my unfaithfulness, is it nothing?"
"We, your friends, naturally think first
of you.
"The greater reason that I should think
of him, to whom I owe loyalty and
truth," she said, with dignity.
"And you will not think of ns of your
father of your mother, who ia distressed
ut your decision; of of me?"
"Pardon me," she returned, proudly.
"In this rase only two are concerned,
myself and my betrothed. There is only
one point under discussion: whether I
keep my word or break It."
He leaned forward eagerly, and would
have taken her hands, only ahe held them
stiffly beyond his reach.
"And and?" he questioned, hia usually
sweet tones sharpened by suspense.
"I will keep it, she decided, firmly.
Moving a little further away at once,
he accepted her decision.
(To be continued.)
Me Got It.
A graphic incident iu the life of a
spoiled child is well told by a writer In
an exchange:
Among the passengers on the St
Louis train recently was a woman ac
companied by a nurse girl and a boy
of alwiit 3 years.
The boy aroused the indignation of
the passengers by his continued shrieks
pud kicks and screams and viciousuest
toward the pntlent nurse.
Whenever the nurse manifested any
sharpness the mother chided ber sharp
iy-
Finally the mother composed herself
'or a nap, and about the time the boy
dud shipped the nurse for the fiftieth
time a wasp came sailing and flew on
the window of the nurse's seat. The
boy at once tried to catch It
The nurse caught his hand and said,
con singly, "narry musn't touch. Bug
will bite Harry."
Hurry screamed savagely, and began
lo kick and pound the nurse. i
The mother, without opening ber eyea
or lifting her head, cned out sharply:
"Why will you tease that child so,
Mary? Let him have what he wants
at once."
"But. ma'am. It's a "
"Let hlin have it, I say."
Thus encouraged, Harry clutched at
the wasp and caught It The yell that
followed brought tears of Joy to tha
passengers.
Ttie mother awoke again.
"Maryr she cried, "let him hare Itr
Mary turned In her seat and said de
murely, "He's got It ma'am T
Accustomed to Snakes.
"A curious thing about snake stories,''
said a gentleman who had just return
ed from his vacation, "is that people
.with whom the reptiles are a common
sight take very little stock in them."
"I have Just returned from Massa
chusetts, where I put in a week on a
jfarm situated near the Berkshire hills.
The next farm to us was right on a
mountain side, where there were doz
ens of huge rattlesnakes that had a
habit of sunning themselves In the
roadway big fellows, too, they were.
"The old fellow that owned that farm
would read snake stories about mar
velous reptiles In Georgia and- Penn
sylvania, and say 'Gosh! them was
hummers!" Then he would go out to
niDW on the mountain side and kill
two or three big rattlesnakes before
he had gotten half way over the field.
I saw him kill one on one occasion that
had six rattles and a button, and be
had a very narrow escape from lx-ing
bitten. I congratulated him on bis es
cape, and he answered: 'Mister, I have
been killing rattlers ever since I was
a boy, but this is a poor place for
snakes. They never do the tricks here
they do In Texas and out West'
"He didn't mind the snakes, he said,
but I did, and I cut my visit short on
their account I prefer to see my snakes
at the Zoo."FhlladeIphla Call.
Has Exported the Guillotine.
France has exported the guillotine.
In the French settlement of Chander
nagore In India an execution lias been;
performed with a guillotine sent from
Paris. The east has traditional horror
of its own. but the guillotine is a for
midable rival.
The remains of Mr. Rudd, a
Brooklyn artist, who was lost in the
Italian Tyrol live years ago, have just
been discovered.
Mrs. W . K. Vanderbilt owns 126
diamond rings.
An American photographer paid
Mrs. Langtry 1500 for the privilege
of taking her photograph. Mine. Pa Hi
received $1000.
Winderford, Klavirta and Vleckdora
are the names of three children of
George Frye, of Kansas. When asked
wheie he got the names of the chil
dren, Mr. Frye said his wife choose
them from among those of various
brands of collate.
The oldest steam engine in the
country went through a recent fire in
Savannah, Ga., but was dug out of the
ruins all right, and exhibited in At
lanta. It was built by James Watt,
Sailormen tell of a terrible plant
called gagus," which grows in the
Gauptia Island, Malaysia, out of which
is distilled a liquor which rots the
bones of those who drink it.
A fabric made of pine and spruce
wood pulp is made into overcoats in
Leeds, England. It looks like frieze.
A SONG IN PASSING. J
V-? I";. o . .trrinn - I
iti a a a-si mn a -fxuratm taraa vi rmt aa
n 'been most trying. At his prac
tice hour the piano was out of tune, the
accompanist had played abominably,
and be half suspected that he had him
self made a raise note. Whereupon be
had called the luckless Celestlno by
some very hard Italian names, ana
seizing his hat and coat had started ou
for a walk in the avenue to relieve bis
ruffled feelings.
As he walked along briskly In the
clear, cold, winter air, noting how peo
pie paused to look at him, nudging one
another as the famous singer passed,
bis spirits slowly rose. He was very
handsome, was II Tenore, and the la
dles were always wont to eye him ad
miringly, even when they did not know
that his broad chest conld send forth
one of the finest voices in the world.
II Slgnore was forgetting all about
the opera which was to come that night
forgetting the unpleasantness of the
afternoon, his hatred of the robustious
basso and his Jealousy of the new sec
ond tenor. He was forgetting Verdi
and Meyerbeer and Gounod and con
tenting himself with the beautiful
weather and the comfortable feeling of
being alive and strong and well and
good to look upon. Now he need be no
languishing troubadour, no ill-starred
Huguenot, nor even a bereaved lover,
but Just an ordinary man like all the
others only handsomer.
II Tenore was smiling softly to him
self at the wide-eyed looks of admira
tion In the faces of two pretty school
girls who had Just passed him, when
an unwelcome sound struck upon his
sensitive ear. The smile faded from
his lips and a frown wrinkled the com
placent forehead as his eye caught
sight of the obnoxious traveling piano
and the quaint little figure which was
"making the music go."
11 Slgnore strode angrily to the curb
stone. "Bastar ho cried In fierce Italian to
his humble little compatriot, "why do
you shriek at me that horrible tune?
Why do you sound it to me to me, II
Tenore? Clelo! Do I not hear It often
enough? Do I not work over it night
and day, and must I always hear when
I would forget for a moment? Ah
must I not alng It to-night, that note
which drives me crazy? Corpo -Jl Bao
co! it U maddening!"
The poor Italian maid had began to
cry at the first angry tones of the grand
gentleman who had spoken the only
words that she had understood since1
morning. But such unkind wordsl
"I did not know, slgnore," ahe be
gan. "Bah! Ton did not knowl Well,
take yourself off. I will give you this
not to sound that tune to me again,, j
and be thrust a round dollar toward the
girl, who was drying her eyes on ber
green silk apron.
But the little maid did not reach for
ward to take the money, as he had ex
pected. "Oh, slgnorer she cried, eagerly, "1
played It this time as I always play It
ofteuest, because I love It so. Oh, slg
nore, do you really love the beautiful
music?" and an expression of wonder
came into her soft brown eyes as she
raised fhem admiringly to the tenor's
handsome face.
"You love the music? My little aria!"
he cried, half pleased, half scornfully.
"Well, my child, and why do you love
It so well that you play It always on
your horrible instrument, so that 1
must hear it as I go by? Bab!"
"Oh, slgnore. It is so beautiful, ao
tender, so full of the great feeling. 1
love the master who wrote it so well,
and I feel that I could love the one
who sang It, too. If he sang It aa the
great master meant Oh, I feel how he
could do It!" and the little brown bands
clasped themselves eagerly together on
the blue silk handkerchief.
"So you know how I should sing It,
do yon ? Well, my child, you shall come
and hear me, and I hope, little one, that
my singing will please you as the great
master's would have done," and Le
grnnde Tenore hastily wrote a few
words on a card and handed It to the
till wonder-eyed girl.
"Oh, slgnore, a thousand thanks, tha
girl began to say fervently. But tha
handsome gentleman had already gone,
and Bettlna, looked after hia departing
figure, then glanced down at the bit of
cardboard In her hand and breathed a
quick sigh of wondering delight Could
It really be true, and was she going to
hear the grand gentleman with Die
dark, shining eyes and the lovely long
mustache sing her song ber beautiful
song?
Bettlna crept between the shafts of
the piano and dragged her heavy Instru
ment to the next block. Her day's work
was not ended yet and many weary
hours must pass before that would
come to pass for which her soul was
longing. But all that afternoon the
tired little feet trudged manfully over
the cobble-stones and the round, weary
arms turned the heavy crank with new
zest and dragged the heavy machine
vith a back aching less than usual.
For. tucked Into her bodice, close over
her eager little heart, she felt a magic
taUnmaln against weariness end tin
kindness and disappointment But she
played her favorite tune no more that
day.
Betrlna's father was a paper flowet
maker. He bad been lamed by a hore
one day when be was dragging a p.anc
iu ucr, tuu biul-v liieu ma tejc uu
lever straightened out So Bettlna had
x drag the piano and make the music
ilone. And bard work It was for a girl
f Id. But he had made the dingy
oom where be worked to blossom with
lowers of the most Intricate designs
Known to botany flowers such as do
tot grow In the cold America, nor
los3om In any but the most tropic of
dimes; flowers of such varied hue aa
i Sen. of Its own bei:a patrla.
He made little windmills, too, that
ipun prettily and with kaleidoscopic
tffect when there was Just breeze
tnough to fill them, but not too much to
tear the mimic sails. But as' this was
I delightful combination of weather
which Boston seldom vouchsafed to the
at tie would-be buyers of windmills the
ld man's trade was slender. For even
la rosea were viewed askance by the
ikeptlcal eyes accustomed to the frail,
ale beauties of our leas florid men
lows. These green, purple, yellow and
blue blossoms were too Impressionistic
for even the Boston taste.
Bettlna had no mother to Insist upon
fhe polite conventions of good society
lor to act as chaperon when ber daugh
ter attended the opera. So when, after
fhelr scanty supper. Bettlna announced
that she was going to the opera that
light her father expressed only wonder
it her good fortune and rejoiced there
it with her. For he was fond of his
pretty daughter, though he was some
dmes a harsh master and made her
work very hard.
Bettlna had never been to the opera.
Her acquaintance with the stage was
limited to sundry visits to the dime
museums and the galleries of the cheap
er theaters. But this was to her a
land of pure delight She watched the
urging crowd, the beautiful ladies and
their attendant cavaliers, the rows up
n rows of happy, smiling faces, and
ihe knew that she, too, was a part ot
It all.
Then came the overture the dear.
Messed mus'.c that she loved and then,
h, wonderful! another fairy world,
tven more bewildering than the one
Ibout her, was opened to her dazzling
light
Bettlna sat motionless, rigid, the
(ears standing In her soft, brown eyes,
her head bent forward, with parted
dps, her hands clasped close about a
treat bouquet More than one of that
rast audience noticed the girL sitting
there alone In her great, self-uncon-clous
delight And their eyes mois
tened, too, seeing her happiness, and
they wished that It was all as new to
them, as real and as beautiful, thai
they, too, might enjoy It as a child,
with all its glamour.
Then he came forth oh, the beautiful
rentleman! Her slgnore. In his plumed
aat and velvet cloak. A prince he was,
the glittering, jeweled hero of Bettlna'a
1 reams, of the fairy tales which the
lark Italian mother used to tell long
igo In that sunny land across the sea.
Breathlessly she watched him, the
folor flushing deeper In her olive
rbeeka, the soft eyes growing bright
and luminous with excitement as his
clear voice rose high among the rafters
f the great hall.
Oh, how he sangl Bettlna had never
6 card or Imagined such music as this,
tnd her little soul thrilled with the de
light of sweet sound. The beautiful
ladles in their satin gowns, the Jewels
Bashing In the soft light the bright
colors which the chorus wore, the tuu
llc of the great opera Itself all these
were to her but an Indistinguishable
blur of color and of melody, it was
all only a background to that central.
glorious figure, which was the essence
of It all; the divine spirit of music It
elf; the good genius who had permit
ted her this taste of bliss.
So the opera went on, act by act, and
Bettlna sat there like one entranced.
drinking In deep draughts of ecstasy,
At last t the very end, came the
tenor's grand solo. A few soft flour.
Isbes, a tremulous note of prelude and
then her song; her own little song,
which she ground out day after day,
and a hundred times a day. In the rain
tnd the snow; In the cold and the heat
But It was her tune so glorified and
made perfect that to Bettlna It seemed
in air chanted by one of the very an
gels of heaven, so flutelike was it and
to clear, so round and full, ao tremu
lously soft and tender.
It was a farewell love song which he
caroled to the beautiful lady with gold
en hair, as she stood on the balcony
ahnviL Tint a ha finished Ret tin a' s
' .T-f.. vm fnll of tMtm anil her heart
waa lifted far above the dome of the
great hall Into another world; for she
felt that it had been sung to her.
Tea, he sang as the master would
have wished, but better; oh, better than
tny one but the angels could I
Then came the mighty storm of ap
plause that wakened Bettlna from her
trance, and through her tear-dimmed
eyes she saw the whole house wildly
waving handkerchiefs and cheering.
She heard the cries of "Bravo, bravol"
In her dear, native tongue, as the great
bouquets fell at his feet at the feet of
the grand gentleman who sang her
little song.
Then Bettlna rose, and as she leaned
far over the balcony, she, too, shouted
-Bravo! Bravo, slgnorer In her soft
Italian tongue. And, with all the might
of her little brown arms, she, too, flung
her offering, the great gorgeous bony
juet quite at the tenor's feet
He picked it up, the huge bunch of
paper roses. He picked it up, smiling
ind bowing, and held It there befora
(be great audience, a bewildered maa
sf bright colors and vivid green.
fhere was a bush, a moment's pauses
tnd then, thinking It some huge joke,
the great hall resounded again with
clapping and cheering and shouts of
laughter.
But he turned and looked up at her)
tnd singled ber out from among theni
til for his sweetest smile and lowest,
bow her, the little Bettlna, at whom
the whole bouse was looking In laugh
ing wonder.
And aa the great curtain.' opened again
tnd again at the demandatof the people
for one last gUmpae at the great singer,
Bettlna taw him jtaadln thara, radfc
ant beautiful, holding ber flowers aloha
to his breast but with all the others
lying at his feet.
Then the bright vision faded from
Bettlna'a sight, and she wakened from
her blissful dream of brief, unreal hap
piness, of light and beauty and melody,
wakened Into the dark night alone.
Often, oh. often after that, whenever
n Tenore sang the little aria, he would
glance Instinctively up at the right
hand balcony, close to the stage. But
the two brown eyes were never there,
brimmed full of tears, to tell him he
was singing as the master would have
wished.
Still, fhe little song always brought
before his eyes the vision of a quaint
small figure in kerchief and apron and
beflowered bonnet: of a sweet, olive
face and glorious eyes beaming softly
Into his; a vision which would grad
ually fade and grow dim and vanish.
leaving him, too, In the dark, alone.-
Bbort Stories.
the Plakat.
So aggressive Is the plakat, a little
fish from Slam, that the entertainment
It affords has become a national pas
time, but not a very creditable one, to
lay the least The fishes are trained
to go through regular battles, and are
reared artificially for the purpose, while
the license to exhibit them to the gener
al public Is farmed out and brings a
large amount of money Into the royal
coffers. They are kept In aquariums
built for the purpose and. fed upon the
larvae of mosquitoes, and every possi
ble care taken of them.
When the fish Is In a quiet state, with
the fins at rest, the dull colors are not
at all remarkable. But if the two are
brought together or within sight of each
other, or even If one sees Its own image
In a looking-glass, the little creature
becomes suddenly excited. The fins
are raised, and the whole body shines
with metallic lustre and colors of dnz
illng beauty, while the protruding gill
membrane, waving like a black frill
round the throat makes grotesque the
general appearance.
In this state of Irritation it makes rei
posted darts at Its real or reflected an-
tagonlst If now two are placed to
gether In a tank they rush at each other
with the utmost fury.
The battle Is kept on until one Is kill
ed or put to flight but not until they
are entirely separated does the victoi
ihut his gaudy fins, that, like flags ol
war, are never lowered until peace ha
been declared.
THE CAST OF A BELU
fntereetina- Procesa Which Few Foun
ders Have Been Able to Master.
The operation of casting a bell is a
Host Interesting one. The flask where
in and wherein the mold is made cou
llsta of two parts, constructed of boiler
Iron, of tt general bell form, and plenti
fully perforated tfith holes for escap-
ng gas while casting, one being so
much less In size than its fellow as to
rive space for the loam forming the
xtold between the two. No "pattern,"
is the term Is generally used. Is pro
rided. The two parts of the mold are
swept" by "formers," accurately fin
ished from thin Iron to the form Intend
ed for the Inner and outer surfaces of
ixe bell. These "formers" are mount
ed and rotated over the applied loam.
Five courses of loam and clay are suc-
esslvely applied, "swept" and baked.
to complete each mold. Before this
work Is done, however, the Inner flask
!s wound near the top with a rope made
f hay. As the shrinkage Is very great
is the castings cool, difficulty would
be met with in getting the flask and
loam out of the nearly parallel Inside
op: this "pinch" Is obviated by using
this destructible base, which permits
the collapse of the loam after the heat
it the metal has consumed the hay.
The five courses laid on the flasks
ire: Loam, a mixture of loam, fire clay
and manure; two successive coatings
f powdered Are clay, and, lastly, a thin
mating of brick and fire clay combined
with foundry facing. Each If these
joatlngs Is baked In an oven before
the succeeding one Is applied. The
;oatlngs are "swept" by the formers,
is applied, both In the Inner and outer
Basks, by careful adjustments as to
thickness of materials, so that when
the exterior mold Is placed over the In
terior, a space corresponding to the
Intended thickness and shape of the
bell shall exist Inscriptions of em
bellishments to be made upon the bell
are provided for with the last coating
by means of a "knurl" or wheel, having
the desired motto raised upon Its peri
phery, the wheel being carefully rolled
around the soft surface and leaving Its
Imprint In the clay. Other designs are
Impressed from dies of the required or
nament, and the usual "beading" Is ac
complished by notches In the edge of
the sweep.
The two parts of the flask being plac
ed together are firmly help In position
by many clamps, the tendency of hot
bell metal to squeeze through and force
t separation of flasks being very great
As the mold nears completion a fire Is
started in a near-by reverberatory fur
nace. In -which Is placed the desired
charge of copper, and when the copper
Is melted the tin Is added In Its propor
tion. The melted metal being ready,
the furnace Is tapped, the bright stream
:aught In a huge ladle swung over the
mold by a crane and poured into the
ipen mouth of the mold until tt Is filled.
After cooling and removal from the
mold the bell is usually polished with
and and water in special revolving
grinding machines. The tongue and
clapper, the yoke and wheel are now
attached and the whole suspended in
Its frame. In making a chime the bells
are, after completion, temporarily set
op and regularly tested by skilled bell
ringers, from the permanent chiming
stand of the foundry.
A bell of such proportions as the large
one proposed for Milwaukee's city hall
has to be molded and cast In a ptt-
Milwaukee Wisconsin.
' Paid tne rreaonetv
teA novelty In advertising Is shown, tt
iv Scotch church. The congregation
rould not pay Its minister, when a soap
firm offered to pay 000 a year for five
rears on condition that Its advertise
Beat be hung up In front of the gs
iery In the church; offered accepted.
By the time man Is ready to die, ns
to ft to lira, 1
REV. DU. TADIAGEL
SUNDAY'S niSCOUBSK BY THE
KOTKD DIVIN&
Subjcat: "David and Absalom.
Txt: "Is th yonn? mau Absalom safe?
II Samnsl xviil.. 29.
Th hait of David, ths father, wal
wraDned no in his bov Absalom. He was a
splendid boy, ja.1gd by thn rules of worldlj
criticism. From th erown ol nis nesa it
the sole of his foot there w not n singU
Memixh. The Bible says that he had such f
luxuriant shock of hair that when once I
year It was shorn, what was cnt oft weighe
over three pounds. But notwithstanding all
his brilllancv of mDnnaranee he wai a bad
boy. and broke his father's heart. He wal
plotting to get the throne of Israwl. He hoi
marshaled an army to overthrow his father'l
environment. The day of hattle had eom
The conflict was bneun. David, the father,
fat between the gates of the nalace wattins
nr the tidings of the conflict. Oh, how
ranldly his heart bent with emotion.
The two grent question jror to be d"id.
ed h safety of his hoy and the continu
ance of the throne of Israel. After a whiles
servant. 'standing on the top of the house.
took off and seei some one running: He il
eo-ning with great speed, and ths man on
the top of the house announce the corning,
of the messenger, and the father watnhej
and waits, and as soon as the messenger
from the field of battle eoTies within hailing
distance the Tathnr cries out. Is it a ues.
tion in regard to the establishment of hit
tiiron-? Does he say: "Have the armies o'
Jsral been victorious? Am I to continue il
mv imperial authority? Have I overthrowl
mr enemies?" Oh. no! There is one qnes.
tion that springs from his heart to the Hp
mil springs from the lip Into the ear of th
lsweated and hedusted messenger flyim
f-om the battlefield the question, "Is th
vonng man Absalom safe?" When it wal
told to David, the king. that, though his ap
rnis had ben victorious, his son had bei
slain, the father turned his back noon thi
congratulations of the nation and went u
the stairs of his pa'ane, his heart breaking ai
he went, wringing his hands sometimes an
then again Dressing them against his temnln
as though he would press them In, crying
O Absalom! mv son! my son! Would t
Ood I had did for thee. O Absalom! m;
eon! my son!"
My frienilf . fife question which David, th(
k'ntf. asked in reeard to his son is the que
tion that resounds to-dny in the hearts o
hundreds of parents. Yea, there are a grea
multitude of young men who know that tlv
nuestion of the text Is appropriate whei
asked in regard to them. They know thi
temptations by which they are surrounded
They see so many who started life with a
good resolutions as they have who havt
fallen in the path, and they are readv t
hear me ask the question of mv text. "Is thi
younir man Absalom safe?" The fn.-t is tha
this life is full of peril. He who undertake
it without the graee of God and a proper un
derstandlng of the confliet into whieh he i
going must certainly be defeated. Just tool
oft upon society to-dav. Look at the ship
wreck of men for whom fair things wep
promised and who started life with every ad
vantage. Look at those who have droppei
from high social position and from great for
time, disgraced for time, disgraced for eter
nity. All who sacrifice their integritv eomi
to overthrow. Take a dishonest dollar an.
hnry it in the center of the earth, nnd kee
all the rocks of the mountain on ton of It
then cover these rocks with all the diamond
of Ooleonda, and all the silver of Nevada
and all the gold of California and Australia
and put on the top of these all banking ant
moneved institution, and they cannot kee
down that one dishonest dollar. That one ii
honest dollar in th center of the earth wll
begin to heaveand rock and upturn itself un
til U comes to the resurrection of damnation
"As the partridge sitteth on eggs am
hatehetb them not. so he that eetteth rich
and not by right shall leave them in thi
mid't of his days, and at his end shall ba
fool."
Now. what are the safeguards of vonni
men? The first safeguard of which I wan
to speak is a love of homo. There are thot
who have no idea of the pleasures that con
centrate aronnd that word "home." Per
haps your early abode was shadowed witl
vice or poverty. Harsh words and petulanci
nnd scowling may have destroyed all thi
sanctitv of that spot. Love, kindness am
self sacrifice, which have built their altars i)
so many abodes, were strangers in you
father's house. God pity you, young man
vou never bad a home. But a multitude il
this audience can look hack to a spot ths
they can never forget. It mav have been I
lowly roof, but you cannot think of it not
without a dash ot emotion. You have seei
nothing on earth that so stirred your soul
A stranger passing along that place migh
see nothing remarkable about it; but, oh! hoi
much it means to you. Fresco on palan
wall does not mean so much to yon as tlios.
rough hewn rafters. Parks aud bowers an(
trees on fashionable watering place or conn
try seat do not mean so much to you as tha
brook that ran in front of the plain farn
house and singing under the weeping wil
lows. Ths barred gateway swung open hi
porter in full dress does not mean as mucl
to you as that swing gate, your sister on ore
side of it and you on the other, she gone IK
teen years ago into glory; that scene cominj
back to you to-day, as you swept backwan
and forward on the gate, singing the songi
of your childhood. But there are those hen
who have their second dwelling place. It ii
your adopted home. That is also sacret
forever. There yon established the lira
family altar. There your children wen
born. In that room flapped the wing of thi
death angel. Under that roof, whan vout
work is done, you expect to lie down an
die. There is only one word in all the Ian
guage that can convey your idea of that
place, and that word is "home,"
Now, let me say that I never knew a mat
who was faithful to his early and adoptet
home who was given over at the same timt
to any gross form of wickedness. If yo(
find more enjoyment in the club room, if
the literary society, in the art salon, thai
you do in these unpretending home pleas,
ures, you are on the road to ruin. Thougl
you may be cut off from yonr early asso
elates, and though you may be separated
from all your Kindred, young man, is then
not a room somewhere that yon can cal
your own? Though it be the fourth stor;
of a third-class boarding house, Into tha
room gather books, pictures and a harp
Hang your mother's portrait over thi
mantel, bid unholy mirth stand back Iron
that threshold. Consecrate soma spot il
that room with the knee of prayer. By thi
memory of other days, a father's counsel, i
mother's love and a sister's confidence, cal
it home.
Another safeguard for these young men t
industrious habits. There are a grea
many people trying to make their wa;
through the world with their wits instead o
by honest toil. There Is a young man wh
comes from the country to the city. H
fails twice before he is aa old as his fathe
was when he first saw the spires of the grea
town. He Is seated in his room at a tent o
2U0U a year, waiting for the banks to de
clare their dividends and the stocks to rui
up. After awhile he gets impatient. H
tries to improve his penmanship by makini
copy plates of other merchants' signatures
Never mind all is right in business. Afte
awhile he has his estate. Mow is the tiiw
for him to retire to the country, amid thi
flocks and the herds, to culture the domesti'
virtues.
Now the yonng men who were his school
mates in boyhood will come, and with tbel
ox teams draw him logs, and with their ban
hands will help to heave up tbe castle. Tba
is no fancy sketch; it is every -day life. !
should not wonder it there were a rottei
beam in that palace. I should not wonde
it God should suite him with dire sicknesse
nnd pour into his cup a bitter draft that wil
thrill him with unbearable agony. 1 sbouli
not wonder if that man's children grew n
to be to him a disgrace and to make his It
.shame. I should not wonder If that mttt
led a dishonorable death and were rambled
nto a dishonorable grave and then went
ato tha gnashing of teeth. The way of tha
m godly shall perish.
O young man. you must nave Industry of
lead or hand or foot, or perish. Do not
lave the idea that yon can got along in the
rorld by genius. The corse of this coun
ry to-day is geniuses men with large self
oncelt and nothing else. The man who
iroposes to make his living by his wits
trobabiy has not any. I should rather be
m ox, plain and plodding and nseful. than
D be an eagle, high flying and good for
Othiaabnt to Disk 0U tne ayes ni
tver. In the Garden of Eden It wa not sain
br Adam to be idle, so God' made him a
lortlcnlturist. and if the married pair had
lept busy drawing the vines i'ney .tiild not
lave been sauntering under the trees, hank-n-ing
after fruit that mined them and their
losteritv! Proof positive of the fact that
vhen people do not attend to their husiness
hey get into mlschie'. "Go to the ant, thou
Ingcrard; consider her way. and be wiser
vhlch. having no overseer or gnide. provid
Ith herfood in the summer and gathereth
ler meat in the harvest." Sifan i a roaring
ion. and vou can never destroy him by gun
ir oistol or swor 1. The weapons with which
rou are to beat him back are pen and tvps
ind hammer and ad and saw an 1 pickax
ind vardstiok and the weapon of honest toil.
nork. work, or die.
Another safeguard that I want to present
n yonng men i. a nigh ideal of lif. Som
Inies soldiers iroine into battle shoot into
he irroiinr' Instead of into the hearts of their
memies. They are ant to tnke aim too low.
tnd it is very often that the cantain. going
nto conflict with his men, will crv out,
'Vow, men. aim high!" The fart is that in
ife a great manv men take no aim at all.
The artist plans out his entire thought before
e puts tt noon canvas, hfore ho takes np
lie crayon or the chisel. An architect think
nt the entire building before the workmen
egin. Although everything may seem to be
morganized. that architect has In his mind
iverv Corinthian column, every Gothic arch,
very Byzantine caoital. A poet thinks out
:he entire plot of his poem before he begins
o chime the cantos of tinkling rhythms.
Ind yet there are a great manv men who
Itart the important structure of life withouc
knowing whether it i goin? to be a
md Tartar's hut or a St. Mark's ca
thedral, and begin to write out the in
tricate poem of their life without know
ing whether it is to w a Homer's "O Ivssev"
lir a rhvmestor's botch. Out of li)0. 9M
bave no life plot. Booted and spurred and
faparisoned. thev hasten alon?. an1 I run
tut and sav: "Hello, man! Whither away?"
"Nowhere!" thev say. Oh. vonng man.
make every day's duty a filling uo of the
preat life plot. Alas, that there should bo
un this sea of life so many ships that seem
bound for no port! They are swapt every
whither by wind and wave, up by the
mountains" and down hv the valleys. They
tail with m chart. They gaze on no star.
They long for no harhDr. Oh. youi -man.
have a hiuh ideal and press to it. an.l It will
ho a mighty safeguard. There never were
irrnnder opportunities openinu before young
men than are opening now. Young men of
the strong arm nnd of the stent heart and of
the bounding step, I marshal you to-day for
a great achievement.
Another safeguard is a respect for th
R ihha'h. Tell me how a vonng man spends
his SnMiath. nnd I will tell yon what nre his
prosieets in biisin-'sp. an.l I will tell you
tt-hat are his prospect for the eternal world.
God has thrust into our busy life nsacrel
i'ay when we are to look after our souls. I
It exorbitant, after givin-- six days to the
f.eding and clothing of these perishable
f.odies, that God should demand one day
for the fee ling and clothing of the Immortal
ion I?
There is nnother safeguard that I wmt to
present. I have saved it until the last be
muse I want it to lie the morn emphatic.
The grc.it safeguard for evrv young man is
the f'hristinn religion. Nothing can take
the place of it. You may have irracefulness
pnough to put to blush Lord Chestertlel.I,
yon may have foreign languages dropping
from your tongue, you mav discuss laws an.l
literature, you may have a pen of une
nuali'd polish and power, you mnyhaveso
tmi'-h business tact that you can get the
largest salary in a banking house, you may
lie as sharp as Herod and a strong a
Kamson. and with a long locks as those
which hung Absalom, and yet yon have no
safety against temptation. Some of you
look forward to life with great despondency.
I know it. I S'e It in your faes from time
to time. You say. "All the occupations an.l
professions are full, and there's no chance
for me." Oh, young man, cheer up!
t will tell you how you can make your
fortune. Seek first the kingdom of
Bod and His righteousness, and all other
things will be added. I know you do not
want to be mean in this matter. You wilt
ot drink the brimming cup of life and then
pour tbe dregs on God s altar. To a gener
lus Saviour you will not art like that: yon
bave not the heart to act like that. That
lot manly. That is not honorable. That is
tot brave. Your great want is a new heart,
ind in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ I
Mil you so to-day, and the blessed Hplril
presses through the solemnities of this hour
:o put the cup of life to vour thirsty lips.
3h, thrust it not hack. Mercy presents it
Heeding mercy, long suffering mercy. l)o
I iise all other friendships, prove recreant to
ill other bargains, but despise God's love
tor your dying soul do not do that. There
lorries a crisisin a man'slife, an.l thetrouhle
S he does not know it is the crisis. I got a
iBtter in which a man says to me:
"I start out now to preach the gospel of
righteousness and temperance to the people.
Do you remember moi I am the man who
ippeare.l at the close of the service when you
rere worshiping in the chael after you
lame from Philadelphia. Do ynu remembei
it the close of ttie Bervice a man coming up
0 you all a-tremhle with conviction, and
irying out for mercy, and telling you he had
1 very had business, nnd he thought ha
vould change it? That was the turning
oint in my history. I gave up my bad bus
jioss. I gave my heart to God, and the de
lire to serve Hi n has grown upon me all
ihese years, until now woe is unto mo if 1
jreauh not the gospel."
That Sundny night wa the turning point
if that young man's history. This very Sah
ath hour will be the turning point in ths
iistory of 100 young men ia this house,
lod help us! 1 once etood on an anniver
lary platform with a elergym-iu who told
'bis marvelous story. He said:
"Thirty years ago two young men started
ut to attenil Park Theatre, N.;w York, to
lee a play which made religio i ridiculous
mil hypocritical. They ha I been brought
lp in Christian families. They started for
:he theatre to see that vile piny, and their
larly eonvictious came back upon them.
They felt it was not . right to go, but still
hey went. They came to the door of thfl
:heatre. One of the young men stopiied and
Halted for home, but returned ami came up
;o the door, but he had not the courage to
to in. He again started for homo and went
some. The other young man went in. H?
irent from one degree of temptation to
mother. Caught in the whirl ot frivolity
ind sin, he sank lower and lower, lie loit
ttis business position. Ho lost his morals.
He lost his soul, lie died a dreadful death,
not one star of mercy shining on it. I stand
ttefore you to-day." said that minister, "to
lhank God that for twenty years I have
been permitted to pr.-a 'a the gospel. Ian
the other young mu."
Ob, you see that was the tnrnin? point
the one went bock, the other went on. The
great roaring world of business life will soou
oreak in uimiii you, young meii: Will the
wild wave dash out the impressions of this
iny as an ocean billow dasncs letters out of
the sand on the beach? You need something
better than this world can give you. 1 beat
Dn your h. art. and it pounds hollow. You
want Homething irreat and grand and gtori
3us to fill it, and here is the religion thut can
lo it. God save vou!
I" hi1iil1hiit ftuer Telephone.
Il is estimated that 14i,000 conversations,
ilore or lss. take place daily over the f-.-l-.-ahones
in Philadelphia.
The man who ntterapta to play a
practical joke on a vicious dog slioiil 1
engage a surgeon beforehand.
Fools measnre actions alter they are
one by thsevaat; wm m in bifore
bD(l, by the rules of reason and right.
Tbe former look to the end to judge of
the act.
If a man conld run ont of debt at
as easily as be can run into it, times
wonld not be po hard.
Good breedicg is the remit of much
good sense, some good nature ani a
little self denial for tbe sake of others,
and with a view to obtain tba bhiuj
indnlgeDce from them.
The home role question has wrecked .
the happiness of many a family.
Tbe prudent set s only the difficulties,
the bold only tbe advantages of a great
enterprise the hero seeks both, dimin
ishes those, makes these predominated
and conquers.