-,ts -iWcf 1 J k it 1: i III mil i. in l Li HIM I ! B. F. SCHWEIER, THE CONSTITUTIONTHE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. j g) v v - qz m . & v u si a ' av- a v m av.' a k a m . . nvavsaaw.. w r r m m m m mm mm mm mm m m mm. w mm ar a i a mm mm mm mm mm mm mm mm mm mm -w mm mm mm QL. LI. MHTFIilNTOWlN. JUJSTATA COUNTY, FENN., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1900. NO. 11. CHATTER XIX. Of that night's fatal work the country lide remains in complete ignorance. Of Mr. pvsarl's sudden death it hears the following naming with a feeling- of itrong curiosity, hut with none of regret, rhe funeral that takes place on the third jiy Is small, certainly, yet. considering 11 thin:- the dead man's open hostility to hii neirlil'rs. and the dearth of hos pitality that characterized his sojourn among them larger than might hare been i'J't- t-l. and at all erents select. Ami'DC ethers Lord Kiversdale attended out of cempiiiient, it was supposed, to Seat"n. a" he and the old man had never lo much a- seen each other's features. But it as fmiiid impossible to conceal the eiisteiice .f Sedley from the two flrls. Peyton had undertaken to give them a rather careful account of what ha J happened : and in truth, when all a told, he was almost as much at sea ibwut it as they were, as the stranger re mained a stranger to him. Sedley had determined t reveal the secret hold he hail bad i.n Mr. Iiysart to Seaton, think ing the latter would make good his fath er's promises. It is in the old man's private den that he dues this. Going up to the old-fash-lum-d bin run he, by a subtle touch, Un links the secret spring. The door falls back, the hudden shelves i:id ili.-ir contents lie all unconcealed. Seizins upon a fast yellowing parchment, Sedley draws it out. and overcome by fatigue and excitement, drops upon his knees. KnserTy he opens and scans It, ind then holds it out to Dysart. "Compare that," says he, in a high tone of triumph, "with the. will of your grandfather, that left all to Gregory Dy lart, cutting out the elder son. Compare it, 1 say, and you will see that this was executed three years later than that oth erthat other which is now in force, and has been these tweuty years. Mechanically Dysart takes it. Xo word escapes him. Speech, indeed, is impossi ble to him, so busy is his mind trying to lake in all the miserable dishonor of the itory ihnt as yet has but the bald out lines iaid before him. "No one knew of it but me, says Sed ley. feverishly, yet with an undercurrent f delicious excitement in the recital. "But nie and Grunch. What she made ut of it no one can tell, as the old chap's .ne, but she's as knowing a tile in my pinion as you'd meet in a day's walk, l'ou can see our two signatures. Eh, :au't you read 'em? We witnessed it. We alone knew, and he bought us over. Well, 'twas worth a quid or two; 'tis a fine old place." ' " Dysart makes no answer. - Ha has sup Irrted himself against a table near him, nd is gazing blankly, hopelessly, through tlie window at tb. dull landscape outside. 11- sees nothing, heeds nothing, save the roice of the man who is speaking. " "1'was felony, mind you, besides the fact of having to give up the money, and property, and all, so 1 knew I could turn 5n the screw as tight aa I liked. . But,' tie laughs, "you see, I counted without my host. I never dreamed the old man soul.l show fight like that. He took it hardly, my return guesa he believed me j.nd. and resented the breath in' me m l I shouldn't wonder if, after all these rears, he had got to believe the place, money and everything, was legally his ow n " . Still Dysart says nothing. He has In-Jp-d withdrawn his dull eyes from the it, ne without, and is now staring with unseeing eyes at the parchment that tells him how the property was never his fath er's, but was left to his uncle, and how his father suppressed the will, and kept the property in spite of law and honor, nd all things that go to give a sweet lavor to man's life on earth. It bad never ben his father's, all this huge property, it never would be his. And if not, whose? Vera's? He starts as if shot. "Is that all?" he asks. "Well, no. Xot quite. Your face say. fery politely that you'd be glad to see my back, but business first, pleasure after ward.'' He grins. "It is as good for us to come to terms now as later." "Terms?" repeats Dysart, gazing at him darkly. "Ay, why not? D'ye think you'll get ut of it scot freer I'ysait stares at him as if scarcely comprehending. "W ant time to think it over like your re-peet.-d parent?" with a sneer. "Not for in-, my lad. We'll settle now or nev er. You see you're in my power, and I'm not the one to " "Sir, 1 am in no man's power," says I'y- i't. calmly. "I trust I never shall Qe. This will," striking it with his hand, "through which my uncle and his daugh ter have been been fraudulently" he nay-i the word with difficulty "kept ont Df t!u ir property for so many years, shall be .a once restored to its proper owner." A yel!.,w tint overspreads Sedley's face. As if entirely overcome, he sinks upon a chair. "You'll surrender?" he says with a . f?lTl "And your father's memory? How Ifc. ' ...... n lu.urt a ... l J , ff-X-1'- "' like to hear bim branded I ro'tr.iiiou swindler, whom death aloni lone sav- l I ed t r. mi the law's grip?" rtysart blanches. Involuntarily he puts out his band and seizes the chair next him and clings to it as if for support. No, no. that he could not endure. "I will give you 500 the day I see foil on board a steamer sailing for Aus tralia." says Dysart with dry lips and a fceart -hat seems dead within him. ."1 m now. comparatively speaking, a poor fan." his words coming from him slowly, mechanically, in a dull, expression! ef Wa.T- "I can offer you no more." "Double It," says Sedley. "and I'll wave the country to-morrow." 'I haven't it at this moment, but 1 1 "are sav I shall be able to manage it," ays Dysart. iu the same wornout, indif Jfcreut manner. "In the meantime, while 1 1!7 to get it. I shall require of you that Tou stay within this bouse and hold Beech with no one save Grunch." "Well. I (joss m chance it," says Sed- after a long glance at the young 11a" pale, earnest face. CHAPTER XX. !th the fatal will clasped In hU Jnnd. ilvsarr .tralirhe tn th .mull 31., be r,"ig room, where he knows he will "'re to find Vera. Twili-ht la besin- "'g to fall, and already the swift herald " niKht is proclaiming the approach of . Joking. She start, slightly .. he come, alr wk0."7 di8tnrb J00" "T" Dy w. effrt at calmness, "but it th.t-!l" eCeM"7 th" 1 honM come, "I am glad yon have come. I, too, touch of nervousness in her tone "I aIm".1 k1w U U imP"ible that we should stay here any longer. Our uncle, who was our guardian, is gone and" !.t,. ,ri8en to,her feet mnd looking af him In sore distress-"! have wanted to speak to you about It for a long time; I thought, perhaps, yon would help ns to find another home." He can see that she suffers terribly in having to throw herself upon his good nature, to openly nemsnd his assistance. "We must leave this, and at once," says she, stammering a little, and with a slight miserable break In her voice. "Too will net hare to look for anothei home," says he; "this U your own house." "Oh, nor drawing back with a haughty feature; "I have told you it is impossi ble. I shall certainly not stay here." "As yon will," quite as haughtily. "It will be in your power for the future to re side exactly where you please, but if the fear of seeing me here is deciding you against thia place, pray be satisfied on that point; I hare no longer the smallest claim to consider myself master here." Warned by a change in his manner. Vera looks at him. "Something has happened?" she says, abruptly. "Yes; something I find it difficult to ex plain to you." Still he managea to tell her all and to show her her grandfather's will the will which his father had suppressed all these years. "But this ia horrible:" she says, faint ly, when he had finished. "I won't have it'" She throws out her hands aa though in renunciation. "Why should I deprive you of your home? Give me enough to live on elsewhere with Griselda, but " "Ton are quick to fall Into error," says he, grimly. I have begged yon already to try to grasp the situation. It is I, it appears, I wbV he hesitates, and after finding it InJpossible to speak of his father, goes on "who have deprived you of your home. Yon must see that. I beg," slowly, "that you will not permit rourself any further foolish discussion on this subject." He turns away abruptly. There ' is something so solitary, so utterly alone in his whole air, that without giving her self time for thought she springs to her feet and calls to him. "Where are yon going? To sit alone? To brood over all this? Oh, do not. Why," going swiftly to him and standing before him with downcast lips and trem bling fingers and quickened breath, "why not stay here with me for a little while and let us discuss all this together and try to see a way out of it?" "My way is plain before me; it wants no discussion," says Dysart, resolutely, refusing to look at her. ' "You mean," tremulously, "that yon will not stay?" One white hand hanging t her side closes upon a fold of her soft olack gown and crushes' it convulsively. "I mean," in an uncompromising tone, 'that I fully understand your mistaken findness the sacrifice of your inclina tions you would make and decline to profit by it" "You are disingenuoua. What you really mean Is," in a low tone, "that you will not forgive." "There Is nothing to forgive, save my presumption." He operas the door deliberately and closes it with a firm hand behind him. Vera, left standing thus cavalierly in the middle of the room, with the knowledge full upon her that she has been alighted. spurned, her kind intentions ruthlessly flung back upon her, lets the quick, pas sionate blood rise upward, until it dyes cheek and brow, bne presses her hand upon her throbbing heart, and then all at once it comes to her that she is no long er poor, forlorn, but rich, one of the rich est commoners in England. And with this comes, too, a sense of deeper deso lation than she baa as yet known. Drop ping into a chair, she covers her face with her hands and cries as if her heart is broken. CHAPTER XXI. Three months have come and gone. Great changes have these three months brought. They have unhoused Seaton Dysart and given his inheritance into the hands, the most unwilling hands, of his cousin. Hands too small to wield so large a scepter. But Mr. Peyton has nobly come to hei rescue. It Is to him that most of the innovations owe their birth. The hand some landan, the pony trap, the single brougham, all have been bought by him. He has perfectly reveled in die choosing of them, and has perforce dragged the re luctant Vera up and down to town, aid ed manfully by Griselda. now his wife, who has also been reveling, to view the everal carriages, and give her verdict thereon. To-day ia rich in storm and rain. The heavens seem to have opened. Down from their watery home come the heavy drops, deluging the gannt shrubberies, (utini intn thA sndden earth auch presumptuous snemones and daffodils as have aarea to snow iatir ncn. the leaping fire, book in hand, having resigned all hope of seeing visitors to day when the sound of carriage wheels on the gravel outaide the window, the echo of a resounaing snocs, " . . i AA.,amnlatMl renose. . j ,1,.,. i. little oulck rushl auu no t. -.-- " - through the ball, a springing step up staircase, the rustle or " the ante-room beyond, a voice that makes Vera start eagerly to her feet, and pres ently Mrs. Peyton, looking supremely happy, and. therefore, charming, flings herself Into her sister's arms. . , "Oh, I am too glad to be surprised, says Vera, fondly. "You're an improvident person, says Mrs Peyton, Deeming . , "rmi-i- of fur. that clothe her dainty form. "Grace telegraphed for us, to help hewith a dinner party that Is to come, off to-night; so come so close to yon, I felt I shooW see you or die." . - - '-- ' "It's selfish, I know, but I'm so glad to have you. Let me take off your furs. What a delicious coat! Yon hadn't that when I was down with you, eh?" "No. It's a new one. Tom gave it to me. He's absurder than ever. But I haven't braved the elements to talk about him. It ia about Seaton I want to tell you." "Seaton? To come out such a day ai this to talk of Beaton! But why? It must be something very serious," says Vera, changing color perceptibly. "Vera, I cannot help regarding ns yon snd me as in part criminals. Poor, deal fellow, it must have been a blow to lose everything in one fell swoop. And yet what more CM Id we have done than what we did do? To the half of our kingdom we offered him, but, as you know, he would none of us!" "I know all that. We hare discussed tt a thousand times." "The face is, Seaton is leaving Eng and forever, and he has a desire, a longing he cannot subdue, and, I'm sure, a most natural one, to aee his old home before he goes." "WeUT ssys Vera, coldly. "Well," In exactly the same tone, witi a little mockery thrown in, "that's thf whole of It, He wants to get a last look at the old place before leaving it for ever. At least, that ia how he puts It Can he come? that ia the question.: 1 really think It would be only decent If you were to drop him a line and ask him. It would be the most graceful thing, at all events." An hour later Griselda drives back tt the Friars with the coveted note front Vera to Seaton In her hand. (To be continued.) BREAD 1.800 YEARS OLD. toavet that Were Being Baked When Pompeii Was Destroyed. Sufferers from Indigestion are ad vised to eat stale bread; the staler the better, they are told. There la In th museum at Naples some bread which ought to be stale enough for anybody. It was baked one day in August, 78 A. D, In one of the curious ovens still to be seen at Pompeii. More than eighteen centuries, there fore, have elapsed since It was drawn "all hot" and Indigestible from the oven. So it may claim to be the old est bread In the world. You may see It In a glass case on the upper floor of the museum. There are several loaves of it, one still bearing; the Impress of the baker's name. In shape and size they resemble the small cottage loaves of England, but not in appearance, for they are as black as charcoal, which, In fact, they closely resemble. This was not their original color, but they hare become carbonized, and if eaten would proba bly remind on of charcoal biscuits. When new they may have weighed about a couple of pounds each, and were most likely raised with leaven, as Is most of the bread in- oriental countries at the present time. The popular Idea that Pompeii wai destroyed by lava la a fallacious one. If a lava stream had descended upon the city the bread and everything else In the place would have been utterly destroyed. Pompeii was really burled under ashes and fine cinders, called by the Italians lapllli. On that dreadful day In August, when the great erup tion of Vesuvius took place, showers of fine ashes fell first upon the doomed city, then showers of laplllL then more ashes and more lapllli, until Pompeii was covered over to a depth In placet of fifteen and even twenty feet. Other comestibles besides the) bread were preserved, and may now be seen in the same room In the museum. There are various kinds of grain, fruit, vege tables and even pieces of meat. Most Interesting is a dish of walnuts, some cracked ready for eating, others whole. Though carbonized, like all the othet eatables, they have preserved their characteristic wrinkles and lines. There are flgs, too, and pears, the former rather shriveled, as one would expect after all these years, the latter certainly no longer "Juicy." But per haps the most interesting relic In the room Is a honeycomb, every cell of which can be distinctly made out. It Is so well preserved that It is hard to realize that the comb is no longer wax, nor the honey, honey. A piece of the comb seems to have been cut out, and one can imagine some young Pompellan having helped himself to It and sitting down to eat it, when be had to Jump up and fly fot his life. One cannot help wondering what became of the piece whether the young fellow took it with him and ate it as he ran, or whether he left It on his plate. Intending to return for it when the eruption was over. Made It Herself. "Did you dream on Amy's wedding cake?" "Mm yes; I thought It was safer tt put it under my pillow and dream on it than to eat It and hare the night mare." PhlUidelphlaBulletin. The royal crown of Persia, which Jates back to remote ages, is In the form of a pot of flowers, surmounted by an uncut ruby the size of a hen'i eg- - Useful Hints. Tou can take out spots from wash poods by rubbing them with the yolk of eggs before washing. A mote may be removed from the eye, or the pain at least alleviated, by putting a grain of flaxseed under the lid. m. nU.M tint wn ter rnnner boilerf. get three cents' worth of oxalic acid at your druggist's, put it in a pint bottle end All it with cold water. Pour It over the boiler while it Is hot, rubbing it down quickly with a cloth, and polish ing it over with a dry piece of flannel. The bottle snouia De marnea pouhmi. To remove paint from cotton, silk or i- wia a t lira to the Knot with t V'oii:n uuuw, spirits of turpentine and let it remain Feveral hours, then rub it between the hands. It will crumble away without injuring either tne coior or lexiure u the article. A nerfect method of cleaning a wool- en caxpei la luid' - butcher a fresh beef gall, break it into a nan. pour one-half into a pail and nearly nu - uo . . ... water- take a course cloth and, having brushed the carpet thoroughly, rub it hard with the cloth thoroughly wet with the gall water. Do a email piece at a time; have a dry cloth ready at hand and rub the carpet dry. So pro ceed until the whole carpet Is cleaned. A BnEVET - GtO HEBE are more things In the ' jT service than brass buttons and dashing cavalrymen, and dying at the post of duty, and the rest of the stock phrases of romance. There are a few fixed principles and some preju dices which It is Just as well not to run up against, because the service can take revenge upon occasions. Ordinarily a moderate amount of tact and common decency will take you through' until you have learned those things which are set down in neither the drill manual nor the regulations. But Miss Hadley had only beauty and pure cheek. She came from somewhere down the south ern way Los Angel, s. or San Diego, or something, to visit the Strongs at Angel Island. And from the moment she set foot upon the landing she began to make herself unpopular. She had bad visions of stopping ashore among a group of kneeling lieutenants, rather after the fashion of the accredited paintings or the "Landing of Colum bus" or the "Jesuit Fathers." But the lieutenants were busy, or they were taking naps, or sitting on their frout porches, with their feci on the railings. They crossed the bay to the city dally, and graced every cotillion and function worth speaking of. and beautiful girls were not new. They had never even heard that Miss Hadley was beauMfuL They were In deep darkness concerning the local belles of wherever it was. down south. " However, several of them met her at dinner that night and the rest called afterwards, as Is the custom. Miss Hadleydld not know It was the custom. She thought It was nil on her own ac count, and that the post was beginning to come to Its senses, which made ber yet more arrogant. Some dispositions thrive upon being made much of, re turning courtesy with good coin; but the latent meanness of others warm to life as the snake on the wood chop per's hearth. As if there were not enough unattached men to occupy ber, she turned ber attention pointedly to La Roche, and when she saw bis wife wince she redoubled her energies. I -a Roche was French, and flirtatious, and clever. And whatever else was to be said of Miss Hadley. she was clever, too. In a worldly sort of way. But Mrs. Ia Roche was stupid, and blusblngly aware of ber stupidity. Still, she was a good-hearted little thing, and bad done a kind turn to every "one in the garrison at one time or another, and it resented, seeing hermade -Jealously wretched, ber pale eyes filling and her lips quivering, as the beauty drew La Roche to a remote corner and leveled her batteries upon blm. Everybody was scandalised and the feelings of the bachelors were hurt. It was Just a little too Insolent So they sought a punish nient to fit the crime, and this Is what they devised: There .was one man who had not called that first night It was Proctor, the adjutant He bad been over In the city at a dinner. When he came back by the first boat In the morning, a dep utation met him at the wharf and car ried blm off to bis quarters, and told him what was expected of him. "I'm not sure that I like the part, though, you know," said Proctor, when they had explnlned. Tbey Impressed upon him that the dignity of the service demanded It also that It would be very good for the girl. Proctor said It would fall through at once. "We only want It to last a day or two." said the deputation. On that understanding be consented. "But I won't lie you know," he told tbem. "You'll have to do any of that" "It won't be necessary," they assured him "If sbe asks which Is unlikely we will say with one accord that you are a brevet-bachelor." You will not find the definition of that In the tactics So Proctor went over to the Strongs' quarters, and found Miss Hadley, got ten up in the sort of morning-robe that It is not customary to display to the gaze of several hundred soldiers, more or less. In a corner of the porch with La Roche. Proctor outited him In about ten minutes. He fought openly, dwell ing upon the charms of I -a Roche's four small children, the details of the cun ning things they said, and of the lost attack of croup of the youngest; how its "Da-da" bad nursed It and how the babies loved bim. Miss Hadley laughed. That hurt La Roche's self-esteem, and be went borne. Then Proctor started In to do as he was bid. It was a pleasant game enough. Miss Hadley could be agree able when she chose. Sbe was the one man-nt-a-tlme stamp of girl, and for the; nonce Proctor was the man. He stayed all the morning, also to luncheon, also all the afternoon. Part of the time they played together on the mandolin and guitar, and for the rest they talked. Then be stayed to dinner, and until some time after taps. When official duties called bim off he was back again surprisingly soon. Of course there was the chance In this kind of thing that Miss Hadley might grow sick of blm. But be took lt There was the better chance that she would be very much flattered, and Proctor be lleved that he was the sort of fellow who could be Interesting for eighteen hours at a stretch. "It's not fair," Mrs. Strong protested to her husband. "You'd have thought It so. If It had been me Instead of La Roche." be sug gested. "But It's not fair to Ella." sbe Insist ed, weakly. - "Ella will thlnlf if s a good Joke, which tt la He has written her the whole thing. He told me so." "But la it right of ns? Miss Hadley is or guest." "Oh, no, she's not; that's a mistake We are here on sufferance. You are useful to order the meals and I to guard her against Intruders on their tete-a-tetes." He reminded ber of episodes In (woof f this. BACeHELOn. CO "Has she asked yon about hiraT' Mrs Strong wanted to know. He said that sbe bad. "And 1 told her that be was a brevet-bachelor. Proctor himself came In at the moment and she dropped It Now you be still for a day or two and let things lake their course," And tbey took It at band-gallop. Miss Hadley might have guessed that one first lieutenant could never have afforded all the fancy boxes of flowers and candies that came over for her. In Proctor's name, by about every boat But sbe did not stop to reflect prob ably; and sbe was mightily pleased. , both with herself and him. Wbere- . upon sbe was still more disagreeable to every one else. But a tiny cloud began to float across ber blue sky. The flowers and sweets were many and arrived regularly, and when they wanted Proctor at the adju tant's office they sent for him to the Strongs'. And. yet though the week of ber visit was drawing to a close, he was no nearer to love-making than upon the first day. She grew a trifle uneasy. It was not that sbe wanted Proctor, but . that sbe wanted to know sbe could have him. So sbe condescended. In the di lemma, to speak to her host "Mr. Proc tor is a desperate flirt don't you I think?" she asked. It was meant to be ' light but It was a shade anxious. , That would have been Strong's cbanct to have put an end to a Joke that was ' going too far. It had gotten away from them, and the man to stop It refused to rise. Strong funked. He looked mean. ind said that he bad never known Proc tor to flirt "He Is swathed In red tape, as a general thing, bas notions of duty nd the rest of It." Then be went off and swore at Proctor In his own breast Which Is human nature. Proctor for his part swore at every body else openly. "I'm so far in It now that I don't know' bow to get out" be Fakl; and tbey grinned and suggested that be tell the truth and shame the devil. "And feel more of a confounded ass than I do now." "Consider you are avenging us," cooed the bachelors. Me said rude things about tbem. They asked what he would like tbem to do. "Shall we come In a body the next time you are en tete-a-tete and explain, or shall we do it while you are absent and can't defend yourself? Any way you put It you will look a good deal of j? cad.j-ou know.". ..They chuckled. ""Proct or sulked. "Mrs. Strong bas got to do It" he announced. "Mrs. Strong won't She feels about as small as you do. She goes around with the look of a stage conspirator. You might draw off gradually," they advised. "I might make a qualified flat of my self f said Proctor: "I've done It as It Is." He departed to keep an engage ment to walk around the island with Miss Hadley. When they started be made the sol emn resolve that before they :.xt to (iinrantine station sbe should know all. l'.ut sbe swung Into the post as bliss fully ignorant as she bad left It Ho had funked again. And at this point Fate came to his aid. Tbey sat on the steps of the Strongs' quarters, resting, when an or derly brought a telegram for him and a box for Miss Hadley. The box coutaln ed violets. Proctor was pleased to th nk what those little attentions were cost lug the other bachelors, but lie glanced nt bis own card, lying In the purple fragrance, with loathing. Then he opened the telegram, and put It hastily In his pocket Miss Hadley asked what It was. He said that It was from some one be bad to meet at the train to-morrow. "Which train r said Miss Hadley. "The train from the East" said Proc tor. She told bim that she. too. was going to the city on the early boat for a few hours. "We may strike the same one L-oniing back." He thought tt would probably be his unmentionable luck. And it came to pass as Miss Had'ey had predicted. They struck the same boat She came aboard hurriedly.- Just as the gang-plank was being drawn In, and she looked about for Proctor, calm ly, possessively, as though be must, of course, be there. But he was not to be seen. 3o she stood and talked to a group of post people, as the boat swum out into the bay and the foggy w.nd Mew stiffly about tbem. Sbe was not sensitive, yet she was dimly aware that they were civil beyond their wont; even there seemed a vague sympathy In their manner. But sbe' was busy and abstracted, watching for Proctor. He j might lie below deck, or In the cabin. At length he appeared, from the othet side of the deck, walking with another girl. The girl glanced at ber with a half-smile. She was so pretty that Miss Hadley's lips net, and sbe forgot what she had been saying. Proctor and the girl strolled to the stern and stood there. Then Proctor caught. Miss Hadley's amazed eye. and lie raised bis hat But she beckoned. It was assurance, to say the vecy least but he went to ber, leaving the other girL The group would have been glad to melt away, but some way tt couldn't, Then Miss Hadley's admirable and perfect cool cheek reached Its zenith. "Who Is your pretty friend?" she asked. Brummel could not have been more superb. There was a pause. Some one might have helped Proctor out but no one did. A snicker came from the group and turned Into a cough. Then the man In Proctor came to his aid. the realization that It was all everybody else's fault anyway Miss Hadley's In particular. He looked at her In stern reproach. "She Is my wife. Miss Hadley." The very winds and the screw were hushed. In the silence Proctor's eyes began to shift But Miss Hadley's own were on his face, and they never mmtur- ed. Somewhere In their limpid depth there was a twinkle. About the corner of her month there was an anuiUtak ably amused twitch. She raised a bunch of violets to bide It They wer the ones that had come the day before lie moved uneasily and met the eye peering above the flowers again. Th! time they held him. "I wonder" Miss Hadley's voice cam slowly, with a distinctness that mut have penetrated even to the stern "I wonder whether It Is I or you alt who feels the most cheap? Take me to mc-t your wife, Mr. Proctor." And be took her. San Franclsce Argonaut Unpleasant Bedf How. The adventures of naturalists In odd orners of the globe! rival the experi ences of explorers In variety and Inter est Dr. Maximilian Schumann, a Bel gian naturalist. Journeyed through Mexico, not many years ago, and here Is one of the reminiscences which he brought back with him: I had gone a day's Journey on horse back from the city of Zacatecas toward the southeast to examine some ancient Toltec ruins. - I arrived at my destination late at algbt and. lighted a fire within the ru'ni :o make my supper. After eating 1 ipread my blanket and lay down. When ( awoke in the morning my first Impu'sc was to stretch out my hand. I threw It out from under the blanket and as I did so It almost touched a big. poison ous rattlesnake, quietly colled by my tide. I escaped by the merest chance. Looking toward my feet what wat my astonishment to see six other rat tlesnakes colled at Intervals over my body. The reptiles did not belong to the va riety com ni vi ly known in California, but were of a peculiarly poisonous spe cies found in hot regions. When I light ed my Ore In the evening It was too lark to see the snakes, which, I pre sume, had crept along the walls. The altitude of the ruins Is nearlj 3.000 feet, and so the n'ghts are cold. Vly fire had attracted the reptiles. When they approached it they found my bed. and discerning the warm blankets, crawled upon them and went to sleep. I extricated myself from the blanket with Infinite care. Once on my feet I was no longer afraid of the reptiles, but as I already had specimens of tbem In my collection. I killed tbem all ami nailed tbem to the adobe wall with my card on each. Rifle Bollo'a. It is found that rifle bu'lets fired from '. distance of COO yardg i.SU rarely pen etrate more than 24 Inches" of loose Mirth, while a bink of earth, free from (tones, 28 Inches in depth. Is considered r:of against bullets fired from any ange. On the other hand. If the earth s beaten down. It will require a much rreater depths as rammed earth offers es; resistance than lo:se. Next to Brought iron and steel plates gravel ilaced between boards is found to of 'er the b?st resistance. Wood offers :he least, with the exception of clay, which, of course, depends upon the im:unt of mo'sture In It. Although a line-inch brick wall is considered bullet :oof, yet it could be breached If about 150 rounds were fired on nearly the nine spot at 200 yards range. Slmllar y 800 rounds could breach a fourteen nch wall if fired at the same range. This table shows the thicknesses of ma :er'.al required to stop a Lee-Metford mullet: Inches. i ravel between boards 4 "Sood brick work ?ack of coal 12 tlard. dry mud wall 14 und . . ..; 2IJ :arth 2 )ak .". 27 Jim 33 Peak 3ti .4" 51ay 4 Wooden stockades are of little use un ess they contain a core of gravel, brick ir sautl. and sandbags or boxes filled vlth earth should aim be banked up. V bullet fired Into sand will always turn o one side after It has entered a lltt'e var. Klondike Poniituneat. According to the Omaha Bee. the peo ile of Dawson City have adopted a nov 1 and effective cure for crime. It is a nonster wood-pile, of a size to swe t tie xtost hardened offender. A man convicted of any offense Is ompelied to saw wood. He saws ten lours hours a day steadily, day after lay, until his sentence expires. He oust saw regardless of the weather. In the most intense cold, the hardest rain, the fiercest snowstorm, he Is com pelled to continue sawing; and if the lay bas not ten hours of light, lauterns ire provided to enable blm to put In s ull day. . When the p!!e of sawed wood begins o get low, the authorities sentence men for very slight offenses, and the nat lral result is that everybody Is kepi in his good behavior. Kever Baited. The traditional attitude of the pes simist toward all things is represented thus In a dialogue wUh a Georgia farn. ! er, report ad by the Atlanta Constitu tion: "How do yon like this weather?" "Not much; I'm feared It's go'.n to rain." "WelL how's times with you?" "Sorter so-so but they won't last" "Folks all well?" "Yes; but the measles Is In the neigh borhood." - "Well, yon ought to be thankful von're a-llvln'." "I reckon so; but we've all got to die!" To Clean Paint. One of the best methods of cleaning ordinary paintwork Is to employ whit ing mixed to a paste with water. It should be rubbed on with a piece of coarse flannel, and then sponged off with warm water. In which a very mall portion of soft soap has been dis solved. Paint which has a highly pol ished surface la best cleaned with fur niture cream. An Unjaat Accaanuon. He You have stolen my heart She That's a nice thing to say af tei yea fcsve been begging- me for six ' weeks m aeoejit it New York Journal SERMON V Rev, Br. Calmagc Sakdaet: Tne It p Iblllty afTlim Wtia Ara Wall and S trans Pnyslcnl Kaanty Ma Iadlaatlva of Spiritual Power ris-ht tna Hattlas m taa Weak. r Oopyrlnot UKI Washtxqtos, D.C. la t bis discourse Dt. Talmage sets tortn the responsibility of thosa who ara strong and well, as In a former discourse be prenelied to the dis abled and "the shut in," text. Judges xlv., 1, "And Samson went down to Ttmnath." There are two sides to the character of Samson. The one phase of bis life, if fol lowed Into the particulars, would adminis ter to the grotesque and the mlrt'jfnl, but there Is a phasa of his character fraught with lessons of solomn and eternal import. To these graver lessons we devote our sermon. This giant no doubt in early life gave evidences of what he was to be. It Is al most always so. There were two Napoleons the boy Napoleon and the man Napoleon bnt both alike; two Howards the boy Howard and the man Howard but both alike; two Samsons the boy Samson and the man Samson bat both alike. This giant was no doubt the hero of the play ground, and nothing could stand before his exhibition ot youthful prowess. At eighteen vears of age he was betrothe 1 to the daughter ot a Philistine. Going down toward Tlmnntb, a lion enme ont upon him, and, although this young Riant was weaponless, be seized the monster bv the long mane and shook blm as a bnngry bouud shakes a March hare and made bis bones crack and left blm by the wayside bleeding under the smiting ot his fist aud the grinding heft of bis heel. There he stands, looming up above other men, a mountain of fle-h, bis arms bunched with muselethat can lift the gate of a city, taking an attitude dellant ot everything. His hair bad never been cut, and It rolled down seven great plaits over his shoul ders, adding to bis balk fierceness and ter ror. The Philistines want to ;onqner bim, and therefore they must fin t out where the secret of his strength lies. There is an evil woman llvln : In the val ley of Sorek by the name ot Delilah. They appoint her the agent In the ease. The Philistines are secreted tn the same build ing, and then Helllu goes to work and coaxes Samson to tell what Is the secret of his strength. "Well," he says, "if you take seven green withes such as they fasten Wild beasts with and put them around me I should be perfectly powerless." So she binds him with the seven green withes. Then she claps ber hands and says, 'Tbey come the Philistines!" and he walks out as though there were no Impediment. She coaxes him again and says, "Now, tell me the secret of this great strength." And he replies, "If you should take some ropes that have never been nted. and tie me with tbem I should be just like other men." Hhe ties him with ropes, claps her bands and shouts, "They come the Philistines!" He walks out as easily as be did before not a single obstruction. Sbe coaxes him again, aud be says, "Now, it you should take these seven long plaits of bair and by this house loom weave tbem Into a web, I could not get away." So the bouse loom Is rolled up, and the shuttle flies backward and fur vard, and the fonv plaits ot hair are woven Into a web. Then she chips ber hands and says, "They come the Philistines!" He walks out as easily as be did before, dra Cing a part ot the loom with blm. But after awhile sbe persuades him to tell the -truth. Ha says, "It you should take a razor or shears and out off this lou hair, I should be powerless and In the hands of my enemies." Samson s'eeps, and that sbe may not wake blm up dur ing the process of shearing, help Is called In. You know that the barbers ol the East have such a skillful way of manipulating the head to this very day that. Instead of waking np a sleeping man, they will pot a man wide awake sound asleep. I bear the blades of the shear grinding against eaah other, and I see the long locks falling off. The shears or razor accomplishes whit green withes and new ropes and bouse loom could not do. Sud denly she claps ber hands and says, "The Philistines be upon, thee, KamsonI" He rouses np with a struggle, bnt his strength la all gone. He Is In the hands of his en em lea. I bear the groan of the giant as they take bis eyes out, and then I see him stag gering on In bis blindness, feeling his way as he goes on toward Gaza. The prison door is open, and the giant is thrust In. He sits down and puts his bands on the mill crank, which, with exhausting hori zontal motion, goes day after day, week after week, month after month work, work, work! The consternation of the world In captivity, his locks shorn, bis eyes punctured, grinding corn In Ouza! First ot all, behold In this giant of the text that physical power is not always an Index ot moral power. He was a huge man the lion fonnd it ont and the 3000 men whom he slew found it out; yet be was the subject of petty revenges and ontgiaoted by low passion. I am far from throwing any discredit upon physical stamina: There are those who seem to have great admiration for delicacy and sickness of constitution. I never could see any glory In weak nerves or sick headache. What ever effort In our day is made to make the men and women more robust should have the favor of every good citizen as woll as of every Christian. Gymnastics may be positively religions. Good people sometimes ascribe to a Wicked heart what they ought to ascribe to a slow liver. The body and soul are such near neighbors that tbey often catch each other's diseases. Those who never saw a sick day and who. like Hercules, show the giant in the cradle have more to answer for than those who are the sub- ieots of lifelong Infirmities. He who oan lft twice as much as you can and walk twice as far and work twice as long will have a double account to meet In the ju lg ment. How often It is that you do not find physical energy Indicative of spiritual powerl If a clear bead Is worth more than one dizzy with perpetual vertigo. If muscles with the play of health In them are worth more than those drawn up In chronlo "rheumatics," If an eye quick to catch passing objects Is better than one with vision dim and uncertain, then God will require ot us fflclency just In proportion to what He bas given as. Physical energy ought to be a type of moral power. We ought to have as good digestion of truth as we have capacity to assimilate food. Our spiritual hearing ought to be as good as our physical hearing. Our spiritual taste ought to be as clear as our tongne. Sam sons In body, we ought to be giants In moral power. But while you find a great many men who realise that tbey ought to nse their money aright and use their intelligence aright, how few men yon find aware of the fact that they ought to nse their physical or ganism aright) With every thump of the heart there is something saying: "Work I Workl" And lest we should complain that we have no tools to work with, Ood gives us our hands and feet, with every knuckle and with every joint and with every muscle saying to us,"Lay bold and do something." But how often it is that men with physi cal strength do not serve Christ I They are like a ship full manned and fully rigged, capable of vast touonge, able to endure all stress of weather, yet swinging Idly at the docks when these men ought to be crossing and recrossing the great ocean of human suffering and sin with God's supplies of mercy. How often it Is that physical strength Is nsed In doing positive damage or In luxurious ease, when, with sleeves rolled np and bronzed bosom, tearless ot the shafts of opposition; It ought to be laying hold with all Us might and tugging away to lift up this sunken wreck of s world. - It Is a most sbamafnl fact that much of :be business of the church and of the world nust be done by those comparatively inva lid. Bichard Baxter, by reason ot his dis eases, ail bis days Bitting m the door ot the :omb, yet writing mora rhan one hundred volumes and sending out ac influence for 3od that will endure as long as "The Joint's Everlasting Best;" Edward Payson, ever knowing a well day, yet bow be preached and how he wrote, helping thou tods of dvlr." sonla like htnisalr to swim I" sea ot glory. And Robert McCheyne, a walking skeleton, yet you know what be lid In Dundee and how he shook Scotland ith seal tor God; Philip Doddridge, ad rised by bis friends, because of bis Illness, not to enter the ministry, yet you know what he did for the "BIse and Progress of tteligloa" In the church and In the world. Wilberforee was told by bis doctors that lie could not live a fortnight, yet at that very time entering upon philanthropic en terprises that demanded the greatest en Inranee and persUtenoe; Robert Hall, suf fering exoruoiatlons, so that often In the pulpit while preaohlng be would stop aud Ja down on a sofa, then getting np again to preach about heaven until the glories of :he celestial city dropped on the multi ;nde, doing more work, perhaps, than al aost any well man in his day. Oh, how often Is It that men with great physical endurance are not as great In moral and spiritual stature! While there ire achievements for those who are bent 111 their days with sickness achievements f patience, achievements of Christian en lurance I call upon men of health, men if muscle, men of nerve, men of pbvsioal rw ' t mta thsmaalnw lo T.ord. Behold also, in the story ot my text, il lustration of the fact of the damage that ttrength can do it It be misguided. It 9eems to me that this man spent a great leal of his time In doing evil, this Samson f my text. To pay a bet which be bad lost by the guessing ot his riddle he runs ind kills thirty people. He was not only rigantic in strength, but glgancio la mis ;hief, and a type of those men tn all ages if the world who, powerful in body or mind 3r any faculty ot social position or wealth, have used their streugth for iniquitous mirposes. It is not the small, weak men of the day who do the damage. These small men who go swearing and loafing about your stores and shops and banking bouses, assailing Christ and the Bible and the church they do not do the damage. They have no in fluence. They are vermin that yon crush with your foot. But It is the giants of the day, the misguided giants, giants in phys ical power, or giants in mental acumen. or giants In social position, or giants In wealth, who do the damage. The men with sharp pens that stab re ligion and throw poison all through our literature, the men who nse the power of wealth to sanction luiquity and bribe justice and make truth aud honor bow to their golden scepter. Misguided giant look ont for tbeml In the middle and lat ter part of the last century no doubt there were thousands of men in Paris ami Edin burgh and London who bated God and blasphemed the name of the Almighty, but they did but little mischief th-y were small men, insignificant men. Yet there were giants in those days. Who can cal culate the soul havoc of a Rousseau, go ing on with a very enthusiasm of in iquity, with fiery Imagination seizing upon nil the Impulsive natures of his day? Or David Hume, who employed bis life as a spider employs Its sum mer, in spinning out si keD webs to trap the unwary? Or Voltaire, the most learned man of bis day, marshaling u great host of skeptics and leading them out In the dark land of infidelity? Or Gibbon, who showed an uncontrollable grudge against religion In bis history of one of the most fascinat ing periods of the world's existence the "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire" a book in which, with all the splendors of his genius, be magnified the errors ol Christian disciples, while with a sparse nessot notice that never can be forgiven he treated of the Christian heroes of whom the world was not worthy? Oh, men of stout physical health, men ot great mental stature, men ot high social position, men of great power of any sort, I want you to understand your power and 1 want yon to know that that power devoted to God will be a crown on earth, to you typical of-sVA'Sn In heaven, but misguid ed. bedraKKTw.. Vra HdmiaJstBitrVe-'oT' evil, Ood will thunder against you with His condemnation In the day when millionaire and pauper, master and slave, king and subject shall stand side by side in t lie ju. lu men and money bags and judicial crime and royal robe shall be rlveu with, thf lightnings. Bebold also bow a giant may be slain of s woman. Delilah started the train ot cir cumstances that pulled down the temple of Dagon abont Samson's ears. And tens of thonsanls of giants have gone down to death and bell through the same fascina tions. It seems to me that It Is high time that pulpit and plntform and printing press speak out against the Impurities ol ooderu society. Fastidiousness aud prud ery say, "Better not speak; you will rouse np adverse criticism; you will make worse what you want to make better; better deal In glittering generalities; the subject Is too delicate for polite ears." But there comes voice from heaven overpoweriug the mincing sentimentalities of the day. say ing, "Cry aloud, -spare not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet, and show My people their transgressions and the house of Jacob their lins." The trouble is that when people write or speak upon this theme tbey are apt to cover it up with the graces of belles luttres, so that the crime Is made attractive Instead of repulsive. Lord Byron, in Don Juan, adorns this crime until It smiles like a Jiay queen. Micbelet, the great French writer, covers It up with bewitching rhetoric until it glows like the rising sun, when it ought to be mads loathsome as a smallpox hos pital. There are to-day influences abroad which, if unresisted by the pulpit and the printiog pres, will turn our modern cities into Sodoms and Gomorrahs, fit only for the storm ot fire and brimstone that whelmed the cities ot the plain. If, then, we are to be compelled to gc out of the world, where are we to go to? This body and soul must soon part. What shall be the destiny of the former I know dust to dust. But what shall be the des tiny of the latter? Shall it rise into the companionship ot the white robbed, whoso sins Christ bas slain, or will it go down among the unbelieving, who tried to gain the world and save their souls, but were swindled out ot both? Blessed be GodI We have a Champion! He is so styled in the Bible: A Champion wbc has conquered death and hell, and He Is ready to fight ail onr battles from tbe first to the last. "Who Is this that oometh np from Edom with dyed garments from Bozrati, mighty to save?" In the light of this subject I want to oall Sour attention to a fact which may not ave been rightly considered, and that Is the fact that we must be brought Into Judgment torthe employment of our physi cal organism. Shoulder, bruin, hand, foot we must answer In judgment for the use we have made ot them. Have tbey been used for tbe elevation ot society or for Its depression? In proportion as our arm Is strong and our step elastic will our account at last be Interallied. Thousands of ser mons are preached to Invalids. I preach this sermon to stout men and healthful women. We must give to God an account for tbe right nse of this physical organism. These Invalids have comparatively little to account for perhaps. Tbey could not lift twenty pounds. They could not walk half a mile without sitting down to rest. Yet how much many ot them accomplished! Uising np in judgment, standing beside the men and women who had only little physi cal energy and yet consumed that energy lu a conflagration of religious enthusiasm, bow will we feel abashed! O men of the strong arm and tbe stout heart, what use are you making of your physical forces? Will you be able to stand the test ot that day when we must answer for tbe use of every talent, whether It where a physical energy or a mental aoumen or a spirttu-" xower? Industrial. Km ploy es of the American Hide and Leather Company's tanneries at Low ell. Massachusetts, who have been on strike, returned to work, the differ ences having been settled by arbitra tion. Two thousand plumbers and 6000 la borers in Chicago are either on strike or under orders to strike against the new rules of the Building Contractors' I Council. t A strike of the machinists of Brock- ton, Massachusetts, began, to enforce a j petition for a nine hour day, instead of ( ten hours, with tbe same pay. I To see what Is right and not to do It is want of courage. i ! ! 1 ' ' D B 5 ' 1 ; a r t n r 8 i ! It 5 . X : ?-i-if'' utz; je-.-.r -v -r-:' l ' r--r-i; : ''"--' .1-1---
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers