WV4W4' 2gT a? --'tflffihi WWW
F. 8GHWEIEB,
TUB CONSTITUTION THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS.
VOL. 1 .
MIFFLINTOWN. JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. SEP I EMBER 9. 18.
NO. 39
CHAPTEll XII. (Continued.)
"Then listen. I vu born in Honduras,
the child of a Spanish lady and of a friend
of the old Englishman, Cundall, him from
whom your brother's wealth was derived.
That friend was a scoundrel, a man who
tricked 017 mother into a marriage with
film under a false name. When they had
been married for some few years, and
when another child, ray sister, bad been
born, she found out the deception, and
he killed him."
"Killed him!" Penlyn exclaimed.
"Yes, dead! We Spaniards never allow
a wrong- to pass unavenged. She showed
him the evidence of his falsehood in one
Land, and with the other she shot him
dad upon his own veranda. She was
tried and instantly acquitted, and, in con
sideration of the wrong she had Buffered,
law was made constituting her legally
bis wife. But the disgrace was to her a
high-minded, noble woman too much;
she fell ill and died. Then the old man,
Cundall, seeing that it was his friend's
evii-doing that had- led to oar being or
phans, wild that henceforth we should be
Lis care. So we grew up, and I had learnt
to look upon myself and my sister as his
heirs, when one day there came another
who, it was easy to see, had supplanted
us. It was the English lad, Walter Cun
dall." "I begin to see," Penlyn said.
"At first," Senor Guff acta went on, I
fisted him for spoiling our chances, but
at last I could hate him no longer. Grad
ually, his gentle disposition, his way of
Interceding for me with his ancle, when
I had erred, above all hla tenderness to
my poor sister, who wss sick and deform
ed, won my love. ' Had be been my broth
er I could not have loved him more. Then
then, as years went on, I committed a
fault, and the old man cast me off for
ever. Another man tried to supplant me
with the woman I loved she was worth
0. man's lore; . but no matter how I
avenged myself. But from that day the
old man turned against me, and would
neither see nor hear of me again. A year
or two passed and then I heard from
Walter, for my sister and I had left Los
Torros (the town where we had all lived)
and had gone elsewhere, that the old man
was deaJ. 'He-has left everything to me,'
Walter wrote, 'and there is no mention of
you or Juanna. but be assured neither
of you shull ever want for anything.' "
"Stop," Lord Penlyn said, "you ueed tell
me uo more. I know the rest."
"You know the rest?" Senor Guffanta
aid, looking fixedly at him, "You know
the rest?"
"Yes. You are Corot."
CIIAPTEIt XIII.
A bewildered look came over the Span
Card's face, and then, after a second's
pause, he said:
"Yes. I am Corot. It was the name
given me by the Mestizos amongst whom
I played as a boy, and it kept to me. It
Is you, then. Lord Penlyn, who has Bet
this Dobson to look for me?"
"Yes; we fonud your letters to him, and
from oue of them we believed you to lie
in England. We thought that that -"
"That I killed him?"
"You threatened him in one of your
letters. We were justified in thinking
so."
! "He, at least, did not think bo. Head
this."
He took from his pocket a letter writ
ten bv Walter Cundall duriug the few
days he had been back in England, unci
gave it to 1'enlyu. It run:
"Juno. INS.
"My Dear Corot:
"I am delighted to hear you are in Eng
laind. and have got an appointment us
agent for Don Rodriguez in I-omlon. Per
haps, now, I shall have some respite from
those fearful threats which, at interval,
from your boyhood, you have hurled at
me, at Juanna, and every one you really
love. Come and see nie wheu you can,
only come as late as possiCle, as I am out
much; and we will have a talk about the
old place and old times.
"Ever yours in baste, W: C.
p, s. I wish poor Juanna could have
lived to know of your good fortune."
"Do you think I would murder that
mau. Lord Penlyn?" Senor Guffanta ask-,
ed quietly. "Thut man who, when he
heard of my good fortune, could think of
how happy it would have made my belov
ed sister she who Is now in her grave."
Lord Penlyn noticed the self-cotistrain-e-.l
calm of the mau, and told himself that
he spoke with such an air of certainty
that it was impossible to doubt him.
For one moment the thought came to
his mind that this apparent calmness, this
certainty of finding the murderer, might
tie a rule assumed by Guffauta to prevent
suspicion falling upon bini. Hut uu re
flection that thought took flight.
Had he been the murdi-rer he would
never have revealed himself, would never
have allowed it to lie known that he was
Corot, the man against whutu circum
stances had looked so black.
And Cuudall's letter was sufficient to
show that what the Senor had told him.,
about the friendship that had existed be-'
tween tbem, was true.
"You must know more than any of us,
Senor Guffanta, as no doubt you do to
inspire you with such coulidem-c of find
ing bim. Had be any enemy in Hondu
ras, who may now l-e iu Euglnud, and
bare done this deed?"
"To my knowledge, none. He was a
man who made friend, not enemies."
"How, then, do you hoie to tin J the man
who killed him?"
"I hope nothing. Lord Penlyn, for I am
sure to find him. What will you say when
I tell you that I have soeu his murderer's
face?"
"You have seen his face? You know
It!" the other exclaimed, springing to his
feet. "Oh, let me at once send for the de
tectives and lawyers, so that you may de
scribe him to them, and let them endeavor
to find him. But," he said sulJVn!y.
"where have you seen him?"
There was an almost conteniptiiou.
smile upon the Senor Gnffanta's face ai
be said:
"Send for no one at least not yet If
by the dJlectivcs you mean Dobson, the
heavy mn, he will not assist tue, mid of
the lawycn I know nothing; and at pres
ent I will not tell yon when and where I
'live seen t'lis man. But. sir ,"f. 1r.l
Penlyn, I know one thing. When tnat
Baa ami I once more stand face to face,
Walter Cundall, who shielded me from
bis ancle's wrath, who was as a brothel
to my beloved Joanna, will be avenged."
..What will yon do?" Penlyn asked In
an almost awe-struck whisper. "Yon will
not take the law into your own hands and
kill him?"
J?2io; it may be not. But with these
sands alone," and he held them oat ex
tended to Penlyn as he spoke, "I will
drag him to a prison which he shall only
leave fqf a scaffold. Drag him. there, I
aay, unless my blood gets' the better of
my reason, and I throttle bim like a dog
by the way." 1
He, too, bad risen In bis excitement,
nd as he stood towering in his height,
which was great, above the other, and
extended his long, sinewy bands in front
of him, while his deep brown skin turned
to an almost darker hue, Penlyn felt that
this man before bim would be the avenger
of his brother's death.
So terrible did he look that the other
wondered how that murderer would feel
when he should be in bis grasp.
He atepped forward to Guffanta and
Jeld out his hand to bim. "Sir," be said,
"I thank heaven that yon and I have
met. But can we do nothing to assist
you In your search? May I not tell the
detectives what you know?"
"You may tell them everything I have
told you; it will not enable them to be in
my way. But what I bare to do I must
do by myself." He paused a moment;
then he said: "It may be that when you
do tell them they will still think that I
am the man "
"No, nof
"Yea, It may be so. Well, If they want
to spy upon my actions, if they want to
know what I do and where I go, I am to
be found at the Hotel Lepanto that la,
when I am not here in this house, for I
must ask you I have a reason to let
me come to you as I want"
Penlyn bowed, and said some words to
(he effect that he should always be free
t the house, and the other continued:
"My business here as agent for Don
Rodriguez, a wealthy merchant of Hon
duras, will not occupy me much at pres
ent, the rest of my time will be devoted
to the one purpose of finding that man."
"I pray that you may be successful."
"I shall be successful," the Spaniard
answered quietly.
"And now," he said, "I will ask yon to
do one thing."
"Ask me anything and I will do it."
"You hare a garden behind your bouse,"
Senor Guffanta said, "how la admission
obtained to It?"
Lord Penlyn stared at bim wondering
ly, not knowing what this question might
mean, and then he said:
"There is an entrance from the back of
this house, and another from an iron gate
in the side street. But why do you ask?
uo one ever goes into it. It is damp, and
even the paths are partly overgrowu with
weeds."
"There are keys to those entrances?"
"Yes."
"And in your possession?" and, as he
spoke, his dark eyes were fixed very in
tently on the young man.
"They are somewhere about the house,
but they are never used."
"I wish them found. Then, when they
are found, I must ask yon to give me
your word of honor that no living crea
ture, not even you yourself, will enter that
garden without my knowing it. Will you
do this?"
"I will do it." Penlyn said. "But I
wish you would tell me your reason."
"I will tell you nothing more at pres
ent. But remember that I have a tusk to
perform aud that I shall do it."
Then he left him, aud walked away to
the neighborhood of Leicester square.
"What I have seen to-day," he said to
himself, "would have baffled many a man.
But you, Miguel, are different from other
men. You are not baffled; you are only
still more determined to do whut you
have to do. But who is he? who is he?
He is not Lord Penlyn."
CHAPTER XIA'.
"The story about this Spaniard, Guf
fanta, is a strange one," Philip Smerdon
wrote from Occleve Chase to Lord Pen
lyn, who had informed him of the visit
be had received and the revelations made
by the Senor, "but I may as well tell you
at once that I don't believe it. although
you say that the lawyers, as well as
Stuart and Dobson, are inclined to do so.
My own opinion is that, though he may
not have killed Mr. Cundall, he is still tell
ing you a tit for some reason of his own,
as to the friendship that existed between
them, and he probably thinks that by pre
tending to be able to find the man, he will
gft some money from you. With regard
to his having been face to fuce with the
murderer, why, if so, does he not say on
what occasion and when? To know his
face as that of the murderer, is to say,
what iu plainer words would be, that he
had either known he was about to commit
the act, or that he had witnessed it. It
admits of no other interpretation, and,
consequently, what becomes of his avow
ed love for Cundall, if he knew of the
contemplated deed and did not prevent it.
or, having witnessed it, did not at once
arrest or kill his aggressor? You may de
pend upon it, my dear Gervase. that this
.man's talk is nothing but empty bragga
docio, with, as I said before, the probable
lobject of extracting money from you as he
previously extracted it from your brother.
"As to the locking up of the garden and
allowing no one to enter it, I uin inclined
to think thut it is simply doue with tin
object of making a pretense of mysteri
ously knowing something that no one else
knows. And it is almost silly, for your
garden would scarcely hnppen to be select
ed by the murderer as a place to visit, -.nd
what object could he have iu so visit in;.
it? However, as it is a place never used.
,1 should gratify him in this case, only 1
'would go a little farther than he wishes,
aud never allow it to be opened not ere;
when he desires it."
The letter went on to state that Snu-r
don was still very busy over the summei
accounts at Occleve Chase, aud shoul.,
remain there some time; he might, lion
ever, he added, shortly run up to towii
for a night.
A feeling of disappointment cntw v
Penlyn aa he read this letter truss Ma
friend.
During the two or three days that bad
elapsed between writing to, Smerdon and
receiving his answer, he had been buoyed
up with the hope that In Guffanta the
man had been discovered who would be
the means of bringing the assassin to
justice, and this hope had been shared
by all the other men interested in the
ame cause.
But he had come. In the coarse of bis
long friendship with Philip Smerdon, to
place such reliance upon his jndgment,
and to accept so thoroughly his ideas, that
the very fact of his doubting the Senor's
statement, and looking upon it as a mere
attempt to extort money from him, almost
led him also to doubt whether, after all,
lie bad not too readily believed the Span-'
iard.
Yet, he reflected, his actions, as he
stood before him foretelling the certain
doom of that assassin when once they
should again be face to face, and his calm
certainty that such would undoubtedly
happen, bore upon them the impress of
truth.
And hla atory had earned the belief 01
the others that, surely, waa in Tavor of
it being true. Stuart had seen him, had
listened to what be had to aay. and had
formed the opinion that be was neither
Jyiug nor acting.
; Dobson also, the man who to the Se
nior's mind waa ridiculous and incapable,
bad been told everything, and he, too,
had come to the conclusion thnt Guf
rants's story was an honest one, and that,
of all other men. he who in mums ntwtA.
rious manner, knew the murderer's face,
would be the most likely to eventually
bring bim to justice, and be was also very
anxious to know what the secret was that
fva 10 nis desiring Lord Penlyn to have
the garden aecurelv cbuuul innkwi
I He could find in his own mind no con-
tiei-una- una neiwccn tbe place of death
fn the park and Ird Penlyn's g-vden
lalthfMlirh ha i-Mniom kj.-.! . 1. - . 1
k-nough, his lordship waa the dead man's
limlkw I. j i . .
, '. uc uesirous tunc ine
cnor should confide in him.
But the Utter would tell bim nothing
snore than he had already made known,
and Dobson, who had alwaya in bia
mmd's eye the vision of the large rewards
that would come to the man who found
the murderer, was forced to be content
and to work, as be termed It, "in the
dark."
"You mast wait, my good Dobson, yon
must wait," the Spaniard said, "until I
tell you that I want your assistance,
though I do not think it probable that I
ahall ever want It. Ton could not find
out that I waa Corot, yon know, although
I bad many times the pleasure of lunch
ing at the next table to you; I do not
thjnk that you will be able any the better
to find the man I seek. Bat when I find
bim. Dobson, I promise you that yon shall
have toe pleasure of arresting him, so that
10c rewara snau come to you. That is, if
I do not have to arrest htm anlil,,tv n..n
the moment, myself, so aa to prevent bim
scaping."
"And what are yon doing now, Signor?"
Dobson asked, giving bim a title more
lauiiuar 10 mm in us pronunciation than
the Spanish one; "what are you doing to
find him?"
"I am practicing a virtue, my friend,
that I have practiced much iu my life.
I am waiting."
"I don't see that waiting is much good,
Signor. There Is not much good ever
done by waiting."
"The greatest good in the world. Dob
son, the very greatest. And you do not
see now, Dobson, because you do not
know what I know. So you, too, must be
virtuous, and wait."
It was only with banter of a slightly
concealed nature such aa this that Senor
Guffanta would answer Dobson, but, light
aa bia answers were, he had still man
aged to Impress the detective with the
idea that, sooner or later, he would
achieve the task he had vowed to per
form. "But," aa the man said to one of his
brethren, "whv can't be eet to work n-hv
don't he do something? He wou't find
the man in that Hotel Lepanto, where
he aits smoking cigarettes half the day,
a..- vn In f . . - I I . ... 1 '.. I .. I . . I.
goes every night."
"Perhaps he thinks bis lordship did it,
after all," the other answered, "aud is
watching him."
"No," Dobson said, "he don't think
that. But I can't make out who the
deuce be does suspect."
(To be continued.)
The Gull.' Strategy.
Allen C. Ma sou is telling a story tnnt
Would probably rulu auy reputation be
may have for truth and veracity where
be not as well kuowu aa ue is iu Tnco
ma. says the Ledger of that city. He
says he does not absolutely vouch for
Its truth, but believes It to be true. It
was told liiiu by some of the men wbo
work on a boat running from the ocean
to Quartermaster Harbor.
They say that iu stormy weather,
when the sea gulls find it ditiictilt to
get their food from its usual sources of
supply, they alight ou the logs lying ou
the beach along the shore of the har
bor until as luauy of them are perched
on a log as cau get on it, and tbeu, ap
parently by direction of one of their
number, they begin to rock back aud
forth until they turn the log over aud
then each one grabs off a barnacle
aud eats it, and they repeat the opera
tlou.
New Style of Sleeping Car.
A Dew sleeping car is being intro
duced which is reasonably certain to
'"till a loug-felt want." By a simple
mechauical device the berths are low
ered below tbe floor of the car.
which, wbeu done, trausforuis tbe same
Juto a roomy parlor car. When the
berths are raised the (-hairs are placed
In the boles U't't vacant by I'' Im-i-Uis.
Large windows ruu almost to the roof,
thus giving ventilatlou to each berth.
There Is r.lso three or four Inches more
space betweeu the berths than there Is
In tbe Pullman or tbe Wagner. The car
Is a very handsome affair, and is mak
ing a tour of the country for the iusiK-c-tiou
of railroad officials. The General
Manager.
Pretty Well Worn Oat.
Weariness will sontc-tiiiics in.-ike n
man go lauie.
"What's tbe matter, L'n-lo l:;i'uiV"
asked Mr. Iliiidbiiiid, fn- tius!y. as ti.e
oiu mau came limping iu. - "(Jot tl.j
gout?"
-so. sab. I'se got de bill for vh!;
washiii' what I did lor you Itisl ycali."
If y-n pav a so'io.il teacher a com
pliment sue will uot observe tbe grm
ma'.icat errors. . .
What's in a name? That which we
call a rose, bv any other name would
smell as sweet
Curioii!, isu't it, tbV men wb r:de
bold 10s never sosm t bj beadej the
Rami way.
It did not rc'iire math of a
philosopher to discover tj-it all r.'c'i
widows are handsome.
0 irvinn a fortuno cutting the other
fellow oat of tbe rich girl's all. c
tioua. Uae can never get an insight ito
1 man's character by looking over Lis
head.
Tbe trouble with the ball dog is that
he sometimes chews more lhn he can
bite off.
Visiting tbe sick will olten care
lakewarainess with as ru-eh divpatcb as
ninsUrd will r Use a blister.
To d easily what is diffienlt for
others is Ihu mark of talent. To do
what is impossible for talent is the
mark of genius.
A man advocating a cause witL a
dark purpose fears even tbe shadows
that might develop from now light
upon the subject.
"Resist not evil with evil,'' was
meant for nations as much as for
men.
PLAYING THE PIANO.
NEW AND INTERESTING THEORV
IS ADVANCED.
Prominent Instructor Fay the Btndj
of Aaatomjr, Physiology and Kaowl
mare of Acoustic. Is Nccemrj for a
tkorssgk llHttrT of tit. Pianoforte
- - Hl.ta to Pianists.
tl. A. Kelso, ot Handel Hall, Chicago
presents a new theory of piano playing
based upon principles of anatomy, physi
ology, acoustics and psychology, and iu
in exhaustive article which be baa pub
lished on the subject undertakes to show
how piano playing may be reduced to a
scientific basis. He advises the study r-f
natoniy, that the teacher may learn tJ
develop a good "piano band" of physi
logy that we may learn the fundamental
causes which operate in velocity playing.
We learn, he says, to avoid and success
fully treat weeping sinews and musi
cian, cramp. By the understanding an-I
implication of the laws governing muscU
innervation we learn to control and hus
band the potent force termed nervous
tucrgy. Misdirected nerve energy causes
physical disease and disorders nature's
internal arrangements; sickness is the re
mit. Misdirected nerve energy, makes
lickly piano players and unhealthy music
Is the result. Extracts from bis artiolv
follow:
Better modes of developing the-powet
t memorizing and of preserving nntouch
td the pupil's individuality, are the re
mit of psychological study. That we
bould study acoustics "goes without say
ing," aa we cannot know too much of
jound. Pedal management, tonal color
ing and the science of harmony are all
better understood through a knowledge ot
the properties of acoustics. A knowledge
f the anatomy of the band, wrist, fore
ind upper arm givea the atudent greater
facility In individual muscular control.
In cssg.-q oence of the control thus gain
td, the whole arm becomes more expres
liv erisply-legglero effect can best
WHAT SHALL
oe produced by energizing tbe muscles ot
the upper arm and those of the fingers,
while relaxing the wrist muscles. This
la a very important point, and la simply
tbe application of the mechanical prin
ciple of the resistance being equal to the
force of tbe blow.
The outer side of the band la naturally
weaker than the Inner side, yet it is just
as essential a factor in playing. The
melody and fundamental bass notes are
most frequently played with the weakest
fingers; hence the necessity of building
up the outer region of tbe band. A de
velopment of the pronator muscles In the
forearm renders possible a good position
of tbe band for playing octaves, arpeg
gios, scales, chords and trills with ths
MOTKIIKST IX STACCATO OCTATB PLAT
10, XO. 2.
fourth and fifth fingers. Rolling octave
playing is dependent upon a separated
control of the supinator and pronator
mnscles from those of tbe lingers. . Speed
requires the shortening of the latent pe
riod of the muscle, and this can be accom
plished only by taking up the slack of the
tendons. The principal muscle concern
ed in producing a crisply ataccato effect
with finger action is the extensor, as upon
this muscle depends the brevity of tone.
By elevating the wrist, curving the second
finger, and depressing it at the knuckle
joint, the finger la in the best possible po
sition tor producing the effect.
Th. physiology of velocity playing la
a subject of great interest to the practical
piano teacher. In some persona rapidity
of movement is natural, the moaeolar tis
sue Is very Irritable and exercises of speed
do not demand great effort. In others
tne mnscles, although energetic, obey the
orders of tbe will with considerable slow
ness. A great expenditure of nervous
energy la necessary to obtain a rapid
movement. Illustrations ot these dlffar-
Boas aw ba asOwt la
OVCUK.tT W STACCATO OCTATB PIRAT
ING, HO. 1.
In fencing, boxing, rowing, walking, an j
j In piano playing. - Pfiuger -J authority tor
I the statement that wheu a nerve U stint-
the stimulus received by the nerve in
I creases in intensity as It reaches the mus
cle.
The three attributes of tone are force,
pitch and qnality. Force is dependent
upon the amplitude of the vibrations.
MOVtMUT IS STACCATO OCTATS FLAT
ixo, no. a.
Pitch is dependent upon the vibrational
number the greater the number the high
er tbe pitch. From these facts we de
duct principles of study which are prac
ticable to an intelligent atudent of piano
playing. The overtones of tones sounded
in the upper registers are of such great
vibrational number that the ear falls to
establish a definite pitch for tbem. Then,
again, the waves of such tones are so
short that they vanish almost immediate
ly after sounding; therefore tbe pedal,
which permits tbe tone to be re-enforced.
' may be used more freely in the upper
j register thun in the middle or lower. One
ton. susiaiueu uy -tue peum 11 iuv uuuuw
is equal in intensity to. about four in the
Upper register. It is possible by a deli
cate manipulation ot the pedal to oblit
erate the discordant harmonies In the
upper, without losing an organ point in
the .lower register, which sometimes of
necessity must be sustained by the pedal.
A point which Is of tqnal importance
witfc the manner of atriking is that of the
manner of leaving the'keys, for upon this
hinges the entire system of legato octave
playing. Wide skips, such as a bass note
nd its chord, and broad intervals either
In the accompaniment or melody, may be
made to sound legato without the use of
the pedal, by releasing tbe finger from the
key slowly, thus damping the tone grad
ually. Many beautiful effects may b
produced by this use of the pedaL
All movements of the body are either
natural, habitual or hereditary. In cer
ta'n states of consciousness we bring into
lay certain mnscles just aa naturally as
a-ater seeks its lowest level. It is for this
reason that a pupil is sometimes taught
to play a passage with widely differing
Movements of the hand and arm by dif
ferent teachers. Thus it not infrequently
happens that an Instructor scatters
broadcast over the land, through his pu
pils, peculiar mannerisms which he in-
I FLAX t
terlted from his ancestors. It may readily
be seen that thia ia radically wrong, and
that such would not be the ease were all
Caching based on philosophic principles.
1 In playing the piano habits will neccs
larlly be formed, and movements baaed
n the natural lawa of expression of ths
body are more easily acquired, and, when
acquired, enable as to express musical
thoughts more clearly and more forcibly
than habits formed at b.p-basard. Tech
nic, as applied to piano playing, Is ths
power to express musical thoughts. This
Involves not only the ability to play the
proper notes with correct angers, bnt re
quires such control of the mnscles an4
nerves thst all gradations of tonal colon
Ing may be expressed. Piano playing has
)x-en compared to an electrle current tb
musical thought emanates from the brain,
basses through the nerves which mors
the muscles to be used, the finger strikes
ihe key, tbe hammer strikes a wire, which
in lta tarn produces a tone, the ear con
veys tbe tone bsck to the brain, that
completing the circuit Weak or slug
gish mnscles, therefore, net readily yield
ing themselves to tbe nervous stimulus
flowing from the brain, will break the cir
cuit and the musical phrase will fall short
of the Ideal conception.
In piano playing the purely mental In
tellectual phrase finds Its expression hi
the circumscribed movements of the fin
gers and hsnd. nslng tbe knncklea or wrist
as tbe center of motion. Passages from
Bach's "Fugues and Inventions" admira
bly illustrate thia statement. An emo
tional phrase demands more freedom ot
movement, which the firmness of the el
bowthe emotional center and length
of the forearm readily supply. ' OUmaxeS
and oasslonate outbursts ot musical feel
ing demand the added strength and wider
swing through space of tbe entire ana
from the vital center of the shoulder.
From a technical standpoint I classify
all music nnder five general heads oc
taves, chords, arpeggios, scales and em
bellishments and these are again subdi
vided. Octaves are of five varieties,
namely, legate, staccato, broken. Inter
locking and deceptive. Chords are eithet
broken or solid. In order to play aa ar
peggio properly It moat be taught la tea
or twelve different ways, and the pupil
will then understand bow to correctly
practice all arpeggios. I usually teach
the principles ot arpeggios before st-
sealea, aa the saovemeats el tae
retz.paci
..' y
same In both, and are more easily eomprao
bended in the former than in tbe bitten
ITuder the head of embellishments 1 in
clude aV TifWW of trills, mordents and
appogiataraa.
I consider the wrist the distributing
center for the energy of the upper aud
forearm. It is Impossible for the nerv
ous stimulus from the brain to be properly
conducted to tbe linger tips when tba
many tendons tat pass through the wrist
are tense. Almost every pupil beginning
the study of tbe piano has some uucon
seious mannerism or trick peculiar to him
self of using the agents of expression.
Before eradicating these bad habits ami
building up those which are correct, a
certain condition of passivity or relaxa
tion must be achieved, just aa the pot
ters' clay must be rendered soft and plas
tic before it can be modeled Into the de
sired forms. I find for this purpose the
Delsartean exercises known as relaxing
or devitalising of inestimable value to the
beginner and advanced student alike.
We can utter so many words with ont
breath, and when that is exhausted we
must draw upon the reservoir the air
for another supply. . We can play a rapi I
succession of notes with a given sup
ply of nerve energy, and when that Is ex
hausted we must dra'w upon the reservoir
the brain for another supp'y. This
vssity of our physical nature is the
basis of rhythm, and if the regularly re
curring Inclination to build up tbe waste
Is unheeded, health and strength will be
Impaired. Do not wait until a sensation
of weariness is felt before renewing the
energy, aa we should no more play with
exhausted strength than speak with ex
hausted breath.
While conscious technic kills expression.
the very core of the true system ot tech
nical expression is embodied in Hamlet a
advice to the players, "Suit the action tj
the word, which, freely adapted, may be
made to read, "Suit the technical Inter
pretation to the musical thought."
Copyrighted.
A Fragrant Bath.
We have always kuown that Paris
ian ladles know a trick or two not
generally known by the world at large
for preservation of their youth and
brightness. We have It on the author
ity of a contemporary that these ladles
put starch Into their bath water to
soften it, as it is cheaper than borax or
toilet vinegar and more trustworthy
than ammonia, which Is said to Induce
a growth of down on the skin. The
Parisian ladies' maids are adepts at
preparing delicate toilet waters, and
always have material ready for use,
meal baths, starch baths, flower baths,
sea baths and medicated baths. One
bath which Is considered somewhat of
a luxury must have a curious pudding
effect. Tbe bathtub Is lined with a
linen sheet, gored properly to fit It
Then a bag, containing almond meal
or oatmeal, with orris root and dozens
of other Ingredients, Is put In, givlug it
a delicious fragrance. The bath being
filled to the brim with water, the In
tending bather gets In and remains un
til she Is saturated with the perfume.
Would that such baths were common
In England. Invention.
Corner ia Huckleberries.
The huckleberry Industry about Au-
denrled baa coma to a sudden stop
through the appearance of two bears,
on the mountains. A week ago a trav
eler exhibited two performing bears on
the street and while doing so the nni-
mals engaged In a bout not on tbe bills.
In the scrimmage the trainer was used
up badly and one of the muzzles torn
from a bear. Finding themselves at
liberty, tbe bears trotted off and reach
ed the mountains safely. The black
berry season having just opened, hun
dreds of boys and girls who pick the
berries have since been kept out of the
woods through fear. The mines being
Idle, the villagers one day turned out to
scour the woods for berries and bears.
A party of women came upon them un
expectedly, and their screams soiu
alarmed scores of others, resulting In a
stampede. The bears are now boss of
the situation and berry-picking In that
vicinity Is at a standstill. Pittsburg
Dispatch.
A Back Biter.
Straiger la the submarine diver at
home? The diver's wife He's down at
river, but I dont think yon can see
htm thin morning. Stranger Why not 1
vbt fllTsrw wife He'e Immersed la
Jerrla Gazette.
Tba Veranda la VI later.
During the warm weather tb
veranda is accepted as an ideal
lounging place; but with tbe ap
proach ot winter It is forsaken, and
for tba time oeing almost forgotten.
Now there is no reason why oue ol
the most desirable portions of the
house should thus become temporari
ly useless. Tbe hundreds of people
wbo live in tbe country all tbe yeai
round ought to realize what a pecu
liarly fine sitting-room for tbe win
ter an Inclosed veranda makes. A
tew have arrived at this realisation.
But it is seldom that one meets with
such a perfect adaptation of the idea
as exists In a certain Mew England
valley. This veranda is fall tirteeo
feet wide, perhaps even more. It ex
tends around three sides of a largt
stone bouse. In tbe winter not anj
of its glories fade. The entire struc
ture is glazed. Tbe decorations and
furniture remain. And while the
visitors enjoy all the homelike com
forts of tbe summer tbey bavt
stretched before them one of the love
liest laadcad to tba East.
REV. DR. TALMAGE.
Tbe Eminent Div.ne's Sunday .
Ucourse.
Sabjeet: "A Shadow oa the Harvest1
Field."
. "And when the ehtld was rrown. It
fell on a day that be went oat to his father
to the reapers. And he said onto his father,
my bead, my head! And be said to a lad,
carry him to his mother. And wben h. had
taken htm and brought him to his mother ha
sat on bar knees till noon, and then died."
II Kings lv., 18, 19, 20.
There Is at least one happy home In Shu
Bern. To the luxurianoo and splendor of a
great bouse bad been given tbe advent of a
child. Even when the Angel of Ltfs brines
a new soul to th. poor man's hut. s star ot
ioy btnes over the msngw. Infancy, with
Its helplessness and Innoceaee, had passed
away. Daya of boyhood had come days ot
laughter and frolic, days of sunshine and
promise, days of strange questions and
earloaltv anrt quick development I suppose
among all tba traasurm of th. house the
brightest wss the boy. One day there is the
shout of reapers heard afield. A hoy's
heart always bounds at tho sound of sickle
or scythe. No sooner have the harvesters
eat a swath across the field than the lad
joliis them, and the swathy reapers feel
young again as they look down at that
lad, as young and beautiful as was Ruth
iu the harvest niH i hkik
gleaning after the reapers. But the sun.
- mwi wuiiKtxHion oi me Dnuni
seized on him. I sea tho swarthy laborers
drop their sickles; and they rushont to sea
what Is tbe matter, and they tan him and
they try to cool his brow; but all is-of no
avail, in tha instant of oonsoleusness, ha
puis his hands against his temples and cries
"IS 7 head! my i"dl" And he father
said: "Carry him to hs mother." just as any
father would have said: for our hand is too
rough, and our voice is too harsh, and oui
foot is too loud to doctor a sick child. It
there be In our home a gentler voice ana a
gentler hand and a stiller footstep. But all
of no avail. - While the reapers of Shunem
were busy In the field, thera came a stronger
reaper that way, with keener scythe and foi
a richer harvest. He reaped only one sheaf,
but oh, what a golden sheaf was that! I do
not want to know any more about that heart
breaking scene than what I see in just t hi
on. pathetic sentence: "He sat on her knees
till noon, and then died." Though hundreds
of years have passed away since that boy
skipped to ths harvest-field and tben was
brought home and diad on his mother's lap
the story still thrills us. Indeed, childhood
has a charm always and everywhere. I shall
now speak to you of childhood; its beauty
its susceptibility to Impression, its power
over the parental heart, and its blissful
transition from earth to heaven.
The child's beauty does not depend upon
form or feature or complexion or apparel.
That destitute one that you saw on the
street, bruised with unkinduess and in rags,
has a charm about her, even under her des
titution. You have forgotten a great many
persons whom you met, of finely cut features
and with erect posture and with faultless
complexion, while you will always remem
ber the poor girl who, on a cold, moonlight
v? V" you were Passing late home, in her
thin shawl and barefoot on tha pavement,
put out her hand and said: "Please to give
me..",pennjr-" An! bow "n we have
walked on and said: "Oh, that is nothing
but street vaiabondism;" but after we got a
block or two on, we stopped and said: "Ah.
that is not right;" and we passed up that
wy snd dropped a mite into that suf
fering hand, as though It were not a matter
of second thought, so ashamed were we ot
our hard heartedness. Wtth what admira
tion we all look upon a group of ohildren
on ths play ground or In th. aotaool, and
w. clap our bands almost involun
tarily, and say: "How beautiful!" All
Miffness and dignity are gone, and
your shout is heard with theirs and
ton trundle their hoop, and fly
their kite, and strike their ball, and all your
w"rlness and anxiety are gone as when a
child yon bounded over th. playground
yourself. That father who stands rigid and
unsympathetic amid the sportf ulness of ohil
dren, ought never to have been tempted out
Of a crustv and 11 nro. 1mm m iu Miit.ri....
The waters leap down the rooks, but they
have not the graceful step of childhood.
Th. morning comes out of the gates of th
East, throwing its silver on the lake and its
gold on the towers and its Are on the cloud:
but it Is not so bright and beautiful as tha
morning of life! There is no light like that
Which is kindled In a child's eye, no coloi
ike that which blooms on a child's cheek,
so musio like the sound of a child's voioe.
Its face in the poorest picture redeems any
Imperfection in art. When we are weary
with toil, their little hands pull the burdens
off our bsck. Oh, what a dull, stale, mean
world this would be without the sportful
oess of children. When I find people that
do not like children, I immediately doubt
their moral snd Christian character. But
whan tbe grase of God comes upon a child,
how unspeakably attractive. When Samuel
begins to pray, and Timothy begins to read
the Scriptures, and Joseph shows himself
Invulnerable to temptation how beautiful
th. scene! I know that parents sometimes
rat nervous when their ohildren become
pious, because they have the idea that good
ihlldren always die. Tha strange questions
Ibout God and eternity and the dead, exoite.
tpprehension in the parental mind rather
than congratulation. Indeed, thera are
tome people that seem marked for heaven.1
Thta world Is too poor a garden for them to
bloom In. The hues of heaven are In tha
petals. There is something about their fore
head that makes you think that the hand of
Christ has been on It, saying: 'Let this one
some to He, and let it oome to Ma soon."
While that one tarried in the house you felt
thera was an angel In tha room, and you
thought that every sickness would be the
last; and when, finally, the winds of death
did scatter the leaves, you were nomorasut
prised than to see a star eoma nut aKn.a tha
eloud on a dark night; for yon had often
(aid to your companion: "My dear, wo
bail never raise that child." But I soout
lb. Idea that good children always die.
3ainuel th. pious boy, became Samuel
the great prophet. Christ ain Timothy be
came a minister at Epnesus. Young Daniel,
Booseorated to God, became prime minister
of all the realm, and thera are in hundreds
of the schools and families of this country
to-day ohildren wbo love God and keep Hut
sommandments, and who are to be foremost
among the Christians and the philanthro
pists and tbe re.oriuers of the next century.
The grace of God never kills anyotia. A
ehild will be more apt to grow up with re
ligion than It will be apt to grow up without
It. Length of days Is promised to the right
eous. The religion of Christ does not cramp
the chest or curve the spine or weaken tbe
nerves. Thera are no malarias floating up
from the river of lire. Th. religion of Christ
throws over tbe heart and life of a child a
fu perns! beauty. "Her ways are ways of
pleasantness, and all her paths are peace."
I pass on to consider the susceptibility of
childhood. Men pride themselves on their
nobangeabllity. t hey will make an elabor
ate argument to prove that tbey think
now juit as they did tweuty years ago. It is
charged to frailty or fraud when a man
changes his sentiments In politics or In
religion, and it is this determination of soul
that so often drives back the gospel from a
man's heart. It is so hard to make avarice
charitable, and fraud honest, and prlds
humble, and skepticism Christian. Ths
sword of God's truth seems to glance oil
from those mailed warriors, and ths helmet
seems battle-proof against God's battle-ax.
Bat childhood; how susceptible to exampla
and to instruction! You are not surprised
at thenoord: "Abraham begat Isaac, and
Isaac begat Jacob;" for when religion start 1
In a family, it is apt to go all through. Jeze
bel, a murderess, yon are not surprised ti
Ind her son Jehoram attempting assassin
ttoa. Oh, what a responsibility apon tat
pa rant and tn. teachcrl Th. moatoiai
toncnes tn. keys, and ths response ot tnose
keys Is awav off amid the pipes and tha
sbords, and von wonder at the distance be
tween th. key and the chord. And so it is
In lire; If you touch a child, tha result will
come bask from manhood or old ag. telling
put tha tun. plaved, whether tha dirge ot a
greai sorrow or tne antuem ot a great )ny.
The word that the Sabbath-school teacher
will this afternoon whisper In the ear of tha
etaas.wm oe ecnooanaaa irojn ..vetiasumr
ages of light or darlcnes. 't ne home an 1
th. school decide the republic or t)t despot
ism; the barbarism or the civilization; tha
upbuilding of an empire, or Iheovdrlbrow
Ing of It. Higher than Parlia-nnnt or Con
gress are tha school and the family, aud tlm
sound of a child's foot may menu more than
the tramp of a host. What, then, are you
doing for the purpose of brlnin? your ciiil
dren into the Kingdom of Godr If tbey are
so susceptible, and if this is the very best
time to act UKn their eternal luter-frts, what
ar. you doing by way of right impulsion?
There were some harvesters In tha fields of
Scotland one hot day; an t Hannah 1,-m m l
was helping thera gather the Iikv. She laid
her babe under a tree. Whi a she wa busy
In the Held, there was a flutter of wing in
tbe air, and a golden eaglenluchej theswad
dllng band of the babi, and fl-w nway with
It to tha mountain eyrie. All tne harvesters
and Hannah Lemond started for thecllffc
It was two miles before they -amn to tho
foot of tbeollffs. Getting there, wiio riare.l
lo mount the cliffs? No humau loot had
ever trod It. There were sailors tlinre who
had gone up the mast In the day of tnrribln
tempeM; they did not dare risk it. Hauuati
L-amond sat thera for a while and looked up
and saw tha eagle in the eyrie, and then
he leaped to her feet, and she
Itarted up where no human foot had ever
trod, crag above crag, catching hold of this
root or that root, until she reached the
eyrie and caught her babe, the i-a';le swell
ing in fierceness all around nhotit her.
Fastening the chili to her back, she start e I
tor her friends and for home. Oh. what a
dizzy descent! sliding from this crag to that
Brag, catching by that vine and by that n-ot,
somtng down further and further, to tba
most dangerous pass, where she fomvl a
roat and some kids. Sh said: "Nor 1 11
follow the goaf; the goat will know Just
which Is the safest way down;" anil slin w.is
led by tbe animal down to the plain. Wiipii
she got th-re, all the people criu.l: "Tlinuk
God! thank God!" her strength not giviut;
way until tbe rescue was effected. Ami tln-y
rried: "Stand back, now. Give her air!"
Oh, if awoman will do that for the physical
life of her child, what will you do fortbo
eternal life of your boy and your girl? I.ct
It not be told in tba great day of eternity
that Hannah Lemond put forth more exer
tion for the saving of the physical life of .
her child than you, O parent, have ever put
forth for the eternal life of your little one.
God help you!
I pass on to consider the power which a
child wields over tha parental heart. We
often talk about tbe Influence of pursnts up
on children. I never heard anything said
about the Influenoe of children upon their
parents. You go to school to them. You no
More educate them than they educate you.
Wtth their little bands they have caught
hold of your entire nature aud you cannot
wrench yourself away from their grasp. You
are different men aud women from what yon
were before they gave you the first lesson,
fney have revolutionized your soul. There
are fountains ot joy in your heart which
ever would have been discovered bad tbey
lot discovered them. Life is to you a more
stupendous thing than it was before thosa
little feet started on the pathway to eternity.
Dh, how many hopes, how many joys, how
many solitudes that little one has created lu
four soul! You go to school everyday a
tcliool of self-denial, a school of patience, lu
ghicb you are getting visr day by day; and -that
influence ot tbe child over you will In
crease and increase; and though your chil
dren may die, from tbe very throne of God
they will reach down au influenoe to your
toul, leading you on and leading yon up un
til you mingle with their voices and sit be
tide their tbronea.
The grasp which the child has over tha
parent's heart is seen in what the parent
Will do for the child. Storm aud darkness
and beat and cold are nothing to you if tbey
stand between you and your child's welfare.
A great lawyer, when yet unknown, one day
stood in the court room aud made an elo
quent plea before some men of great legal
attainments; and a gent eman said to him
afterward: "How could vou be so calm
Standing in that august presence?" "Ob,"
said Erskine, "I felt my children pulling at
my skirts crying for bread." What stream
Will you uot swim, what w witi yo .0
enter, what battle will vou not tiht, what
hunger will you not endure for yout chil
dren? Your children; Your children must
have bread though you starve. Your chil
dren must be well clothed though you go la
rags. You say: "My children shall be eilu
oated though I never bad any chance."
What to you are weary iimbs, and aching
head, and hands hardi-ned ami callous, if
only the welfare of your children can be
wrought out by It? Their sorrow is your
sorrow, their joy your joy. their advance
ment your victory. Aud, oh, when the last
sickness comes, how you flKbt back the
parch of disease, and It is only after a tre
mendous struggle that you surrender. And
khan when tbe spirit has flcJ. the great deep
ts broken up, and Rachel will not be com
forted because her children are not, and
David goes up the pa'ace stairs, crying:
"Oh, Absalom, my son, ray son, would God
I bad died for thee, oh, Absalom, my son,
nyson."
The brightest lights that cau be kindled,
Christ has kindled. Let us, old and young,
rejoice that heaven is gatherlug up so much
that Is attractive. In that far land we are
lot strangers. There are those thnre who
ipeak our name day by day, andtbv won
der why so long we tarry. If I could count
Bp ths names of all those who have gone
tat from these families into tne kingdom of
heaven, it would take me all day to mention
their names. A great multitude bdforn the
throne. You loved them once; you love thera
now; and ever and anon you think you hear
their voions calling you upward. Ah, yes,
they have gone out from all these families,
aud you want no bo-k to tell you ot the dy
ing experience of Christian children. Yon
have beard It; it has been whisperej iu your
ear, O father, O mother, O brother. O sister.
Toward that good lan I all ChrisMaus ara
bearing. This snapping of heart-str.11 8, this
flight of years, this tread of the bean m ninds
as that we are passing away. Under spring
blossoms, and through summer hai-v.-ts(nnd
across autumnal leaves; and through tha
wintry snowbanks, weareiuwn: on. Oh.
rejoice at it, children of God. rejoice at it!
Jiow we shall gather them up, the loved snd
ha lost! Before we mount our throne, be
fore wa drink ot the fountain, before we
strike the harp of our eternal cel bration,
we will ery out: "Where are our loved and
lost?" And then, how we snail gather thetq
upl Oh, how we shall gather the:n up!
In this dark world of sin an 1 pain
We enly meet to part again:
But whan we reach the heavenly shore
We there shall meet to part no more. .
The hope that we shall sea that day
Should cbasa our present gr efa away;
When these short years ot pain are past
We'll meet before tha throne at last.
Cotd Weather In South Africa.
At BrAjtown and Pricska. in South Africa,
(he season has been so cold that over 10iM)
ostriohes, 10.000 sheep and 500 head of cattle
and horses hnve perished. To add to the
troubles of the farmers, millions of spring
boks mad. their appearance, and not onli
idevoured tha veld that was left, but drovt
the wild ostriches.
A Waterloo Drnmraer Oeari.
At Qneenstown. in the Cape Colony, there
died tbe other day a Waterloo veteran in ths
person of a Mr. Hortoo, who was In bll
ninety-fifth year. Deceased was a drummet
boy, and was present in thnt capacity at tb
battle of WaterloQ. He was lately in receipt
of a pension of 50 a year from th. Wal
iOffloa.
1 illS
Prido and vauity nrn o't -n oonfonnd
ed, but th.-re m a gr-at iliilt rence in
th mi. Pri-lo may lie piirt and bones',
vanity never rn be.
Tha mj-rity ol the world don't
know of any other way l get ahead
tuiiu to pull Mimelkidr bock.
Notoriety is cu sap smcosi, it it
liie 'nl!-llowu bit blur liable 1 1 burst
at any m nnte, ami liar lly possible to
infl ito th j s?ooud time.
We ehonlit lie cwef;il to ili-serve a
goo I reputation by doin well; and
wheu that care u imcj taken, cot to bd
over-anxious abont the success.
H.i not t'jat the formtr limes wera
tatter than ttid prdieat, for it is a
miBtake.