VOL. XXXIII COME AND SEE US. We are Located on South Main Street, Opposite Hotel Butler, ■ t SPRING SUflflEß S FOOTWEAR! \ B. C. Huselton y Undeniably Shows the Largest Stock of Ladies \ |; and Gents Fine Shoes of the Latest and ( 'S M ost Stylish Patterns ever Displayed in Q \ * HAVE YOU SEEN THE V J \ I One of the most perfect shoes for C V M wome i ever made. Dark wine v C m shade of Russia Calf, the latest C / tint; black eyelets, silk stitched. 7 \ Indies low cut shoes tan \ XXTs\rrtnrk'a 9fk Tai ' or matle . 111 lace or button, C v TT OTllall O £\J Rufset or Dongola, Kid or Pat- \ # ent I - eat,ler Ti P s - We sell these S V V'CIIIUI j OllOCo beautiful and comfortable shoes at \ C our trade winning figures, $1.50, $2, ? BUTTpN AND LACE. \ / Made on the latest lasts, only 75c, sl, fln&ljl \ Saving Mon^yt If you buy your Millinery at M. F. & M MARKS, Note these prices; Fancy Braid Hats at 25 cts, worth 50 cents Finer Braid Hals 50 cts, the kind you have been paying 75 cts for elsewhere. Newest shapes in Turbans, 50, 75cents and #j 00 Persian Ribbon 20 cents per yard,'Jß!ack Satin Ribbon No. 60 only 30 cents per yard. -THE BUTLER CITIZEN. Register's Notice The register here' j gives notice _ tl._a» tiie I'oli«*w itiLT at counts or eifci ulor«, a , »uiirii ,, lr.»- tors and guardiat.s hive been Clt-.i iu tl.i office according to la»', mid will I* ■: to Court lor conlitmaliou and allowance iu Saturdav, the 0 h day of June, 1596. u- ' o'clock A. M ot ;ai 1 day: I. Fir.-t ami partial account of \V Wright. executor of Marthi K Wrighi. dee'd, laieol Cutler borough. 2 Final account of 8 C Kainse, .execu tor of Alex Katnsey, dee'd, ia'e ol Jack son twp. «. Final ac uuuL of Johu N \ 'Uag. ad minintrator <• t a of John Young, dee'd,late of Winfield township 4. Final account of Klizibeth M »ry M'xizland. executrix of John Muizland, dee d, late ..1 Clinton twp. 5. Final account of Mary K Helm bold, administratrix of Theodore Helmbold, dee'd. late ol Saxonbnrg borough. 0. Final account of A F Werner. sur viving e\eoutor of Henry Colhirst, dej'd, late of Adams twp. Tne executor gire< notice that he will make application lor his discharge at the time of the premuta tion of this account. 7. Final account of H J Kitzert. guar dian of Frank Slinkier, minor child of Jo sepb Minster, dee'd, late of Oakland twp 8. Final account of Peter Maugel and Nicholas Mangel, executory of Claud Man gel, dee'd, late of Winfie'd twp. 'J. Final account of Wm Br .wnfield, guardian of M..ry A Brownlieid. minor child of James Brownfield, dee'd. late of Donegal twp. 10. Final account of Mrs S C Mcliar vey, administratrix, of John C llcGarvey, dee'd, late of Concora twp. 11. Final account of Herman Kaahe, administrator of Charles liaabe, dee d, lale of Jefferson twp. 12. Final account of Isabella Dickey, administratrix of John I) Dickey, dee'd. late of Forward t« p. 13. Final account of Geo W Wright, executor of Martha K Wright, dee'd, la'e of Butler boro. 14. Final and distribution account i>t John C Kay, adinir.is rator .it Washington Campbell, dee'd, late of Fairview twp. 15. Final account of Robert Johnston, executor >1 JoQn Johnston, dee'd, lale ol Fairview twp. 16 Final accoun" of Jam»B and David liesselgemcr, executors of Kobert gesses, dee'd, late of \V infield tap 17. Final account of Laura A Kicbard son, administratrix of Christopher A Maier*; dee'd, late of Butler borough 18. Final account of A J McCoy, ad ministrator of Elizabeth Thompson, dee'd lata of Mercer twp 19. Final account of Peter Miller, guar dian of Win Henry Bauder, minor child of John Bauder dee'd, late ol Muddycreek twp. 20. Final account ol W F Coyle,admin istrator of Thomas Coyle, dee'd, late of Donegal twp 21. Final account of Rev N E Brown, administrator eta of Alexander Brown, dee'd, late of Mercer twp. 22. Final account of Cathaiine Kirk, administratrix of Wendel Kirk, dee'd, late of Oakland twp. 23. Final account of J N Fulton, ad ministrator of Anna Mary Kelly, dee'd late of Middlesex twp. 24. Final account of W D Brandon, guardian of M J Gillespie, minor child of M J Gillespie, dee'd, late of Donegal twp. 25. Final and distribution account of J D Martin, administrator of Thomas W Martin, dee'd, late of Forward twp. 26. Partial account of W J Scott, ex ecutor of J W Scott, dee'd, late of Lanca* ter twp. 27. Final account of John Hinchb.Tger, executor of Mrs Mary Vosbrink, dee'd,late of Butler borough. 28. Final account ol'J A Kipper, execu tor of Rudolph Kelker, dec'd,late of Evans City. 29. Final account of Rosa A J Martin, executrix of Alary \V Douthett, dec'd, lain of Forward t'vp 30. Final accoun tof Elizabeth Smith, administratrix of Knoch Smith, dec'd. laie of Butler borough, 31. Final account of G F Wei.-onstein, administrator of Isabella II Weisenstein, dec'd, late of Centre twp. Final account of Samuel I'. Hays, guardian of fi R Hays, minor child of Wm Hays, dec'd, late oi Adams twp. 33. Partial account of Chri»tina Fruth, adminUtiatrix of Frank Fruth, dec'd, late of Jefferson twp. 34. Final account of Robert H Young administrator of Jane Young, dec'd, late ol Concord twp. 35. Final account of J M Black, guar dian of Etoil Koblmeyer, minor child of S W Kohlmeyer, dec'd, late of Allegheiij twp. 36. Final account of G K Meilingtr anil W J Mellinger, administrators of J K Mellinger, dec'd, laie of Oakland twp 37. Final account of A A Campbell ex ecutor of J G Campbell, dec'd, late of But ler borough. 38. Final account of Christy Robb,guar dial of Wm K Davrainville, minor child of Mrs Elizabeth Daviainville, dec'd, late of Cincinnati, Ohio. 39. Final account of 3 R McLaughlin, administrator of Daniel G McLaughlin, dec'J, late of Fairview twp. 40 Final account of Emma K nuick admiui»tmtiix of John L Hennick. dfic'd. late of Jefferson t« p 41. Final account, of Geo W Shiever, guardiNii of Minnie Kusjh and Charle.- Rtn-cL, minor children of Jacob ltuscn, dec'd, late of Butler borough 42. First and partial account of Joseph Geibel, acting executor of Charles Geibel, dec'd, late of Butler borough. 43 Final account of G I) Swain and Wm Richer, executors of Jessie Rice, dec'd, laie of Lancaster twp. JOHNS WICK, Register Widows' Appraisements. The following widows' appraisemcuU (.1 personal property and real estate »ut aparl for the benefit of the widows of decedenU have been filed in the office of the Clerk of Orphans' Court ol Butler aourity, viz. Widow of John M Weigle S3OO 00 " George T lieiter 99 00 " Alex Barnes 300 00 " Samuel McCullough.... 238 G5 J M Slonp 300 00 " George Marburger 295 85 " W B Henderson 79 04 " Levi Park 300 00 HOBlaok... 300 00 " Nicholas lieott (realty).. 300 00 " Joseph J Lavery 300 00 •' John S Clark 300 00 '• Jacob F Wise 300 00 ■' John F T Stehle 300 00 " AS Pattison ....... 79 75 " Laurcntis Lyon (realty3so 00 " Wm Kelle/ 300 00 " Israel Cranmer 300 00 All persons interested in the above ap praisements will take notice that they will oe presented for confirmation to the Or phans' Court of Butler county, Pa., on Sal urdav, the (!th day of June, 189(1, and if no exceptions are filed they will be eon firmed absolutely, JOSEPH CK IS WELL, Clerk O. C. NOTICb. Notice is hereby given that George B. Turner, assignee of A. G. Meals, bus filed his final account in the office of the Pro tlionotary of the Court of Common Pleas of Butler county, at M's D. No. 12 June Term, 1895, and the same will lie pre sented to Court for confirmation and al lowance on Saturday, the 6tli day of June, 1896. SAMUEL M. SKATON, Proth'y, Prothonotary's Office, April 30, 1896. THE NEW WALL-PAPER HAS ARRIVED New Patterns, New Colors and Low Prices. The latest effects in shaded border, Get your room papered at a small expense if you buy At DOUGLASS' Near P. O. 241 S. Main St BUTLER, PA. L*TTTLTI!R. PA., THURSDAY, MAYI4, 18HKTS Sar- VI[MI iii.t. it tea axfel nwj t»ee of aetui ula, cures rheumatism, neuralgia aad catarrh, creates an appetite and makes the weak strong. Hood's Sarsaparilla Is the One Trie- Blood Purifier, gl; six for gv Mood's Pills ROAD AND BKIIKJI: kIiPORTS. So i< -1 t.i rct. i»iv ii that th« f" ;t " - iin' hrioif- m I ."•> ul Vl' 'v- have hcc'l <• .li Armed MM M-I ..HIT, .M.l uiii ...• !.- MfttedMMiw fir-t S*T«r»!*> "I JOB*. Iv" lieu K 'lie 6 h «t. 1.1 vii Ui In- nil Inn • t hi. ■ .utelv: KI)S«2 1 r ii-n 1> 1 -k 'oi-. fi'M> tor county hrii'iie ivn McD-'IIh! ri' hi tli>- place where the iiublic r-mil 1 «■':liif •lr> iii the Frm Kiin roail 10 New Hop*. »t I ~n, tear No 'J «• h««»l !•«•« Jnue 22i1. lsyj. Vie*ers *p,. '»>' 1 - ' ntirt. »td SI-ptemi'er 2. 18!»"». REPO t viewer- lilMl. Stalin* that I i-Kt- i„ ii ti«.L«il for i :.icessary auil the ereuiio-. ot tt.« sum* would require PHTH i-xp-:>e thhd i- the towntbip if I ervrock nboult 1 bear, and did loiate the fite thereof at tl.e place mentioned in the petition. Septemtier 11. 1895; approve' 1 ; i.otice to ttiveti nccrtlmtf t" ft urt ml to ho l* 'l 10-tor- the j j i r y i t next terii'. BY THK Ci rsT. >'o v, vl . rh 7, ISOo, it ippi -iriuji to tne four; ;: at the ewe vat not .'aid ' elou the Uai d j'iry at I), en:: '.IT tern . - di r.-ct. il i o.di r *t.l *i Sepi«nii)-r 11, IMC.. iiuc«.. .1 •f v. in: st ot licitiK pre»< t aud thnt 10 order w»» maiin to Mn h Tci 111, lHtHi. it is now order, D to he E b.l"i' the (frand j• 1 r•- i>t Jaiio lenu, IV.' 01. VV ..en. sduy, tne 3. do 'I june, 18J6 li. tie* to be given aeoor-'i'i* '<» rufen ot 001111 Hy THK i.'oURT It IJ So 1, March Heiioiott, 18SK), I'wti in:. ol eifzeii:; ol Oor>n< qn«ues«in|f t iwu*tiip for the couutj tirtdijo ov. r Littt« Coon.. i|iit > ut:i > rii!)E urei-k wheie the ronii known a* I tie \\ Kihli road er*n.f.. s«i 1 oi. ek Jan urn} 2 1 ). 18WI, vmw»r< ~|,p..i.n> d t>> ho Court, am' Maich 2*. IS9O, r. port id view « r- tiled, H'.atltit: that the b idjje t .e»iti««i:• d |'..i is ut r»is try . and the erection of the .•B'i.e woul 1 r.-qnire more, ►xp. u-e It:mi 1- e,iM.liable'ln* towindiip o| Coi.ci.que ne King -louid oear, and «1 ttl b'Cat* the si • 1 hen o• ut t.l:i. place inentt u.ed iu tne i>. t. No 2. March .•u-si >n. 1890. Petition ol ci'i* n* of Forward towmhip lor pub lic road to begin at a point in the public r'i/..l leadlug 1...in Brown's mill to IVters- Ville. ut or near the north end ot the bridge across the <,'oDlioquenessing creek kni vvu as the Ueid bridge, aud exteiiding thence to a point in tue public road leaii i" • tr in ih - borough of Kvausburg to the borouith "I Butlur, at or near th> house . 1 I'D .».11 A. fa. February 3, 1896, viewers apuoi..trch 2, 189-1, repot i ot viewers filed, slating that th road p-t lioued lor is necesuary, «ud did Uj out the same IT public use, cost i | making, one humil.-d dollars, to be bori e!m the township No damages as- M-SSI d. iiarch 7. 1890 approved, and Cx width of road '>l 33 feet; notice to he given, according !<■ luies ol Court. I'.Y THK COURT. I'UTLKK COUNTY. ss: oerliliud from the record tht 4th nay •'* Mi} a I). 1890 JOS K I'll CItISWELL, Cleik y. n. C. D. mmMMumamo lUpder- | | Wear | 1 Points I I i /io irritSi'ii®]!? * SS? o»c 00 CVv CO Mo«i c*o rsj fvj ig) UryJterwfar. owimummm O .All grade of rnderwer at very low prices. Largest stock of hats and furnishings for gentleman ni the country. An inspection will prove tliis to any ones satisfacture. Colbert J B Llprin. « Comr»r.y .. i. IIANCF., or, to fC -)K.ak more ac curately, u. series of those Jeata of ' st.ii ii c h clipper ij§r| Mary I'eck, bound from New York to Valparaiso. A > week before that bright windy March day when she spread her: brood wings and canght. the ocean swell of Sandy Ilook, nothing 1 hail been farther from my thoughts than a voyage round the Horn. A trip by balloon, an exploration of African wilds, or or a raid on the north pole would have seemed a propo sition as feasible as this venture to the southward, to a young physician strug gling ineffectually to prove that the community had need of him and tha* the years of preparation for his profes sion had not been thrown away. It was chance the first, that Capt. Ab ner Peck should come back from a voyage to the west coast to find the wife of his bosom in failing health, and tc resolve to take her with him on his next run to the farther of the sis ter continent. It was chance the sec ond that, in his anxiety for his spouse, the skipper should decide to ship a sur geon; as part owner of the Mary Peck, he was entitled to some luxuries. It was chance the third that the captain and I, Alfred Morris, M. D., should meet at the house of a friend in the New Eng land city In which I was striving to torn my daily bread; and it may have been chance the fourth that we fraternized with uncommon cordiality. The sea man told me something of his plans; I confided to him the story of a few skirmishes of my uphill fight. The talk ended in his making a definite proposi tion. I asked 48 hours to consider it— and accepted it in 12. In going to sea I gave up little. A few patients, chronic as to maladies and uncertain as to pay ments, would be forced to seek a new medical adviser; in exchange for them, I bargained for passage on a fine ship, forgetfulness of the landlord bugbear, and pay sufficient to supply spending money at the ports we might touch at and to bring me home with a little loose silver in my pockets. Once the die was cast, the thought of the voyage tilled me with glee; for it offered a first prospect of adventure, though from boyhood mine had been an existence of vicissitudes. Left an orphan In childhood, I had grown up Into my teens under the care of an uncle, an elderly bachelor, who treated mo with a mixture of the fondness he felt for kinsfolk and the distrust he. manifested toward those debarred from the suf frage by circumstances of age or sex. lie did not understand children, and he feared women. He owned a small fac tory in Rodneytown, a village on the New England coast which had closed its days of progress about the middle of the century, but which still main tained activity enough to keep it alive. My uncle seldom attempted to inter fere with my amusements, which, as it happened, generally took me out of Ills sight and hearing, thereby, no doubt, gaining his tacit approval. I was a rather solitary little fellow in those days, with a liking for prowling about the fields uud along the beach or pad dling a crazy laft up and down the. shallow tidal streams in which the neighborhood abounded, and On the. banks of the largest of which Kodney town was built. Behind the village rose a long low ridge, and beyond that in turn was a rolling country, well wooded and fairly fertile. Between the ridge and the beacli stretched lowlands fringed on the seaward side with salt marshes, and pcnct rated in many places by the tidal creeks of which mention has been made. For farming purposes the lowlands were of little value, and at no time had they many dwellers. In fact, to this day there is scarcely a habi tation to be found from one eud of the plain to the other, though a little way up the slope of the ridge which bounds it are se\Vral clusters of farmliouses. I found a fascination of a kind, in this waste region, which seemed to belong hardly more to the land than to the sea; and 1 spent many happy days exploring it. Here and there, rising from the marsh, were rocky hillocks, steep sided, and dotted with dwarfed trees and bushes wherever, by accident, suf ficient soil had collected to give the loots a covering. On one of these islands —as they may be called for want of a better term —I discovered a house, old, and long untenanted, but not dilapi dated. Why its builder had chosen its site as he had was not to be explained, for he had long been dead and buried; but his work remained to prove that he, like most of his contemporaries, had been an honest constructor. This old house enchanted my fancy. To the east it commanded a view of the bay, a broad expanse of water sheltered from ocean gales by a long cape jutting out from the mainland some miles to the south and then curving so as to extend almost parallel with the line of the inner beach. To the west was the plain, and beyond it the ridge. To the north and south was the amphibious region where marsh and dry land joined. But the great tract ion of the place was its isolation. Nobody dreamed of in vading my retreat, and there, I could imagine myself monarch of all 1 sur veyed, ruling a realm so deserted that the very loneliness of it, for which I loved it, sometimes terrified me. My uncle's death, cutting short my' stay in Rodnejtow n, led to my removal' to the far different scenes of a small, city-in central Illinois, where dwelt an other of my father's brothers, a child less widower. He was an austere man, intensely practical, and well calculated to cure me of the romantic moods I had learned to cherish, had we but come to terms of affection. 1 'nluckily, however, we had too little in common to reach even amity. At 18 1 was told the time for study was over, that the time for toil had arrived. Tie took me Into his shop—he was a merchant in a small way—and for a year strove zealously to discover some t race of business ca pacity in his assistant. Failing utterly in this, he called me before him, gravely passed his verdict on my manifold de ficiencies, am inquired whether I had aily plans in mind. One of my friends—a few had been acquired, perhaps by force of circum stances—had entered a medical school ! in a neighboring city; and, on the spur ot tin* muuu'iit, 1 elected to follow hLs <-\:uiiple. My guardian lie held that |x,st iii \irtu>' ot the sniaii t-fatute l.'tt to mi- l»y 111 v first protector ollVr.-d no olij.'. tion.s, though lie gave formal ii!>- tice that the funds in hi.*; posses ion would hardly suffice to do more than can} roe through the 1111. 01. V ude terred l>y tin waming, I liuitrieuluted, ami for two years studied faithfully, rccei\ing a degree at the end of the second, and thus becoming entitled le gally to experiment on humanity. As, by virtue of strict economy, there was still some moaey to my credit, I de termined to spend a year at a famous eastern school; and T carried out the plan, only to meet one of the keenestof disappointments at the close of the period, through failing to secure a cov eted appointment as a hospital interne. Just at this timp, to °. came news of the death of my uncle. He bequeathed to me a letter of sound advice and a thousand dollars. By means of the lat ter —and disregarding the former —1 spent a fourth year in study, this time selecting another of the great institu tions. The balance left at t )>e end of the season served to equip a modest office in the city, in which ('apt. Peck found me, just entering my 25th year, with re sources exhausted and hopes blighted by the dreary waiting for paying pa tients who did not come. Add to these troubles a share of anxiety as to my health, and one can understand the will ingness with which I became surgeon of the Mary Peck. She was almost a new ship, Maine built, Yankee-officered and manned by a crew representing many nations. She was of about a thousand tons' burden, and was freighted with a cargo of con siderable value. Iler living" quarters aft were comTortable, if not luxurious, and the cabin fare was excellent. The captain and his wife, the two mates and I, made up the population of that part t>t the vessel. The Mary Peck's run to the equator was made in circumstances of the sort to delight both the skipper and the I»air who were making their first deep water voyage. Rarring a sharp gale soon after she cleared the coast, the ship encountered fine weather down to the 'line, with plenty of wind, but not too 'much of it—a very important qualifica tion in the eyes of the novices. As the days grew warmer Mrs. Peek throve amazingly, the color came back to her cheeks, and her strength increased, un til we almost forgot that she had begun the voyage an invalid. She herself credited o'd ocean with her improve ment, and the captain was mneh of her way of thinking, while my notion of the matter was that the companionship of her tall, bronzed husband counted for more with the little woman than sea air and sunshine combined. At all events, however, the surgeon's post promised to be a sinecure. To the line, as has been said, fortune showered her favors upon us, but no sooner was ourprowcleavingthcwaters of the southern hemisphere than the gifts of the fickle goddess ceased. For a fortnight we had calms or breezes so faint as hardly to give the ship steer age way. Yet. she contrived toerawlon, daily putting some, leagues of her road behind her; for her master was a smart •seaman, and made the most of every cat's-paw. Nevertheless it was slow work, and all of us longed for cooler days and fresh winds with an Invig orating keenness in their rush. I was leaning against the rail one night, lingering beyond the usual hour and loth to quit the coolness of the deck, when the captain came up, and, standing beside me, lighted u cigar. The night was still ami moonlit, and the uhip lay almost motionless. "Still ocean holiday weather," said I. "Do you look for much more of it?" "I hope not," said he, emphatically. "It's the sort of holiday that's worse than labor." "And when steam discounts canvas." "Yes," he observed; "it's enough to make one pray for engine and screw. Hut perhaps I ought not to complain. My wife certainly seems none the worse for this drifting in the tropics." "She stands the heat well, no doubtol that," said 1. "In fact, she takes most kindly to the sea. I wonder you've nevci had her with you before." "Wait till we're on Lhe other side of the Horn, and then see if your opinion's the same." "It will be a long time to wait, at this, rate, of sailing. So far I've only hod one cause to find the ocean disappointing. I've looked forward to all sorts of inci dents, but not one has occurred." "Wait till we're in the Pacific before you reach conclusions. By the way, what manner of incident might you crave?" "Anything not too perilous. You know the list better tnan I." "I'm willing to avoid them all this voyage," he answered, with a laugh. "Still, if any excitement occurs you shall be notified promptly." "On the strength of the premise I'll turn in," said I, and, leaving him to finish his cigar, mode my way below, to toss and turn in my bunk for a time, and then to fall into a restless slum ber. Presently, as it seemed, from the drowsiness which was heavy upon me, though tho summons was loud enough to wake the soundest of sleepers, the steward rapped upon the door. The daylight in the stateroom proved that, after all, the night had passed only too quickly. "What's the matter?" I called out, convinced that the man must have blundered and called me at least an hour too early. "The cap'n requests you to step on deck at onct," he answered. "What for?" I demanded; but tho steward had gone his way, and there was no answer. Pulling on a pair of trousers and a jacket, I hastened to obey the skipper's orders. As I reached the deck I caught sight of a litvle knot of men about a figure lying motionless on a grating Kneeling at the side of the prostrate man was a woman, and a little forward two strange sailors were surrounded by half a dozen of the ship's crew. "Here's business for you, doctor," was Capt.. Peck's greeting. "That in cident you were longing for last night has occurred fast enough." "What's happened?" I asked. "Who are these people ?" "We've just picked them up," he. an swered. "Their boat is towing along side now. They are from a small Por tuguese steamer, the Nina or Nita, from Lisbon for Kio, destroyed by fire, two days ago. There were four of them in the boat, w ■ fell in with, two sailors and two passengers. That man lying there j j Ajj; -r\ fi' W VTTTU T'MLNI ™ V . K TAwM^&thA yA - | Kne» i.ag &t the fide of the pr» ;trate man a WOlliull. l.as broken a leg got it by a fall iu leaving the steamer, tumbled into the boat, in fact—and he seems to be in a mighty bad way. We hoisted him aboard as easily as possible, but he fainted from pain while we w ere doing it. lie needs your attention bj.dly." And truly his need was great—a frac ture of the tibia and two days in an open lKiat with only the rudest treatment tor Ids injury. A glance at the swollen Jimb was enough to tell the story of his hours of torture. He was a tall, line-looking man, of middle age, with well-cut features and a close-cropped dark beard. His dress, disordered as it was, showed him to be a person of wealth. "Best get him be-low at once," said I. "He's in for a siege, 110 doubt of that," "Put him in the stateroom forward of tlie first mate's," said the captain. "Bear a hand here, a couple of you fel lows." * Two of the sailors came aft and care fully raised the injured man. With the skipper and myself assisting in the operation, he was carried to the quar ters assigned him. lie moaned feebly as the men lifted him from the grating, and again as they felt their way down the companion-stairs, but, oll the whole, the job was well done. Then came the labor, which was particularly my own, of reduclnginflammation.of getting the leg into splints, ami of making the pa tient as comfortable as circumstances permitted. At last Iw as able to report that, all things considered, he w as doing very well. "That's news," said the captain, heartily. "By the way, did you learn anything 11 bout him or the loss of the steamer?" "Only that, though he is a Brazilian, he speaks linglish like a Briton. The lady, who seems to IK* H relation of his, knows nothing but her own tongue. She's with him now, watching him, al though there's nothing for her to do." "You learned his name?" "Yes; Perez." "So much I've extracted from the sail ors," said ('apt. Peek, "but very little else, except that, when the rush was made to leave the steamer, our friends were almost left l>ehind. Most of the crew and passengers got away ii» three other boats. The one we met was the last to pull away from the steamer. That's the limit of information to tie had from tne men." "I suppose t hat.nothing has been se«-n of the other boats?" "Nothing. I'll do my best to lind them, but it's not likely we'll come across them. The people we bave on board lost trace of them the first night. God pity the poor souls crowded into those three boats 1" The captain was as pood as his word, and, aided by a light breeze which came as opportunely as if designed to assist in this errand of mercy, the Mary Peck cruised about in search of the tlotilla. Nothing was seen of it, however, and when, after lying becalmed for two days more, her sails were again lilled by the wind, her bow turned to the south, and once more she was headed for her destination. Long afterward it was learned that an English ship had] rescued the occupants of the boats on the day following that on which the, steamer burned, and had carried them to London. As we drew into cooler latitudes Perez mended steadily, although, oa may be imagined, his recovery was a tedious business. Yet, in view of his condition when he was hoisted to the deck of the Mary Peek, neither he nor I could find cause for complaint. lor six weeks he was confined to his state room, and in that tiine I came to know him well and to like him exceedingly. Of hiiuself-he said little, but, bit by bit, I learned something of his story. liis father was a Brazilian, but his mother was English, and the greater part, of his youth was spent at l'nglish schools. Since attaining* manhood he had lived near Rio, making an occasional trip to Europe. The lady in his charge on the homeward voyage which had been in terrupted so disastrously was a cousin, who, after some years in Portugal, was returning to her OH n country. She was not very young, and her beauty was of the faded sort. In spite of the draw back that neither she nor Mrs. Peck was mistress of the other's tongue, the two women managed to strike tip a great friendship and to comfort one an other vastly in the days of great gales and high seas we encountered off the cape. Rut the ship fought her way through the storms of that stormiest oi regions into the Pacific, and at last her anchor was dropped In Valparaiso bay after a voyage which, south of the line, hail I wen prolonged far beyond her master's expectations. There had been no opportunity to transfer Perez to a vessel bound for Rio, and perforce he had been carried to the Chilian port. On the day of our ar rival, however, he and his companion bade us farewell and were sent aboard o steamer which,an hour later,l>orc them out of the bay. Our parting was that of friends who could hardly hope to meet again. Vet it was fated that a meeting should come, and, that, too, at an early dale. 11. Again the Mary Peek was plowing the waves of the Atlantic. Favoring breezes on the Pacific, a fierce but short lived storm off the Horn, then a half gale which drove her at top speed along that roughest of ocean highways—such was the story of the lu glnuing of hi r homeward voyage. But now the cape had been rounded and the ship was pressiug northward toward wanner latitudes and less tcm|>estuouH seas. Everybody aft was in the l>est of spir its, as I well remember. It was evening. Mrs. Peck and I were 'reading in the cabin when the captain left the deck and joined us. The hang ing lamp showed drops of spray glisU'ii lng on his cap and heavy jacket, and no wonder, for a strong, keen wind was up out of the southwest, and, though the ship wim running l>efore it, one could guess that her deck was far from dry. "You two are looking cheery anil homelike down here," said the skipper. "I tell you, a warm cabin's no bad place on a night like this. There's an edge to this breeze that, even if we miss half the force of it, cuts to the bone. How'd you like to be standing watch, doctor?" "This is iirtter. thank you," -aid 1; "better for the present, at least. I dan »a\ it won't be long l>efore the deck w ill have the preference." "Not if our luck holds. Do you l>e lieve in luck, doctor?" "Yes, most firmly," *uid 1. The ques tion recalled most unplt a-autly the trib ulations of life on shore, which, for a little. I had shaken off, but to which a return was inevitable. "And so do I," said the skipper. "Still, with Mary with us we can't meet any great misfortune. Old Ocean wouldn't lowcr to comfort her. Yet I strove to reassure her. as if a frightened woman could be cheered by an equally frightened man. Neither of us knew what had happened. 111 our ignorance we could only dread horrors none the less terrifying for the indefiuitcness of them. So for many minutes we sat, pale and trembling at the prospect of dangers we knew not what. But t.he motion of the ship and the tell-tale compass showed that she was still speeding on her course, and after a time the fact l>egan to revive our courage. At las't- how* long the interval seemed there is no need of relating—Capt. Peck rejoined us. "What was it, Abner?" gasped his wife. "What was it V" "Here, here, that won't do," he au swe red. "Don't worry. We're still afloat, and likely to keep ufioat, which Is more to the point." "Then what has happened?" I broke in. "We struck something. Just what, we don't know, but something quite awash, for nobody saw anything of it. Whatever it was, we must have sent it to the bottom. None of the men caught even a glimpse of the thing ns we went, over it," * "A derelict?" "Perhaps. However, we're not badly damaged, so far as can be discovered. There's no danger." With a great sigh of relief, his wife sank back in her seat. Her husband bent over her and kissed her. "Don't let. her get down-hearted, doc tor," said he. "She's a brave little wom an if she has only a chance. Remember, both of you, we're not sinking, but afloat in as sound a ship as ever was sent off the ways. And*now I've got to go 011 deck again." In spite of the confidence he felt, or assumed, there was little rest for us that night. Morning, to be sure, showed the vessel apparently uninjured,at least to unskilled eyes, though one could not help noticing that, the faces of the mates were unusually grave, and that the men talked earnestly among them selves. The pumps had t>een going dur ing the night, as I knew, and now, at in tervals, the clank of them penetrated the cablu. Nevertheless the captain nguln aud again declared that there was 110 danger, until by force of repetition he succeeded in allaying the fears of his wife. We held the breeze for three days. Then followed a gale of 20 hours' dura tion, which left behind it an ugly sea. The next morning the pumps were go ing steadily. The cold had moderated sensibly, and from under the lee of a l)oat I enjoyed a pii>e and watched the men at the brakes. After a little the skipper, who had I>een standing near the. wheel, crossed ovsr to me. "Doctor," he said, "I've something to tell you. It is better for you to learn it now than to come at it after awhile by guesswork. We've changed our course uud are headed for Rio." "Then the ship's injury Is greater than you supposed?" I asked, with all my old terrors aroused. "Yes. We have been leaking forward ever since the collision. The pitching and rolling in yesterday's blow In creased the trouble and made, my duty clear. I want you to understand this and to aid me in keeping up my wife's spirit*. Make her believe that seeking j>ort for repairs is more of an extra pre caution than a necessity." '•I'll do my best*" I promised, and, though my success was doubtful, I honestly strove to aid the captain's de signs. Of the anxious days of that run to Kio there is little to re cord; but, reach it as we did at length, with the pumps going, the men almost worn out and the ship showing a pood deid less freeboard than she had displayed in the Pacific. We learned, soon after our arrival, that Perez was out of the city, and that it was uncertain when he would return. The work of rejiairs on the ship was pushed, for her master was desirous to lose ns little time, as jK>sslble. There were some cases of fever reported among the shipping, nnd once or twice I was called aboard vessels to prescribe for men lying ill of the disease. I doubt whether my ministrations had much effect, Yellow Jack being then more of a st ranger to me than was the case somewhat later. While spending a day ashore I was seized by the fever. I was hurried to a hospital, there to fight my battle with the grim enemy. The struggle was so close, as I learned afterward, that probably it would have gone against me, had not Perez, re turning to Kio, got news of my attack nnd secured for me all that money could command in the way of treatment and attendance; and when I was convales cent he took me to his fine estate in the highlands. The Mary Peck by tlrto time was well on lwr way to New York, her captain easy to the knowledge thai he had left his surgeon in good hands. Of the weeks passed as Perez' guest. 1 shall ever cherish a grateful remem brance. Ills kindness was unvarying, his generosity unlimited. lie had ob tained a very fair notion of my slender prospeets, and pladly would have aided me to seek fortune in liru/.11, hnd not the physicians strongly odvisrd against my attempting to remain there. Ac cordingly, he was forced to content himself with arrangements for my pas sage home, which he decided should be made by way of Kuglaud. lie would have done more, and pressed upon mo money, which would have been a wel come addition to my resources, hajj X No. 20 not refused to Increase my obligations to him. "Obligation*!" he objected. "Don't let me ftear you mention obligations. Kate has brought 11s together twice. Von think that on the second occasion you have liecome my debtor, but 1 know that on the first I incurred a debt to you which can never lie liquidated. How would 1 have fared had 1 not re ceived skillful treatment after the crew of your ship hoisted me out of the boat In which I had suffered tortures'? It was the one chance in the hundred that the rescuing vessel carried a surgeon. There was fate In it; 1 lu re was fate In the accident which drove the Mary* Peck to l\io. It may be destiny that even for a third time we shall be of service the one to the other." "I trust that if the opportunity cornea it will be mine," said I; "but our lives promise to l*> spent far apart." "Even so. Hut the chain of destiny sometimes links the most remote." Evidently a feeling ]>ossessed him that our connection was not to end with the good-byes spoken on the steamer which was to liear me from Rio. He asked many questions about niv '"ns, until from the answers he jx , ciived that I was turning homeward almost without an idea of the manner t ex istence before me. Then the talk drift ed to the sorry experiences of 11 y pro fessional career and to the errant char acter of my l>oyhood existence. He was a sympathetic listener to a descrip tion of the old village on the New Eng land coast and the lonely house, sur rounded by the marsh, which had been my favorite retreat. Under the spur of memory, I told him much of the abandoned dwelling aud of its isola tion. "If ever 1 come to l>e a misanthrope," I declared, "let me retire thither, as sured that I may remain undisturbed so long as I choose. Yet, if my* mood changes, it will be but a step, and again I shall Ih> among my fellows." "Truly an admirable heritage," he observed. "Indeed it Is. The villagers take no Interest in the old place. Though near them, it is out of their way, and there is no reason why* they should visit it. They ore not people of the sort to waste energy* in tramping through salt bogs. A man who settled there might feel tolerably certain that they would not attempt to intrude upon him." We were silent for a time, but at length I' asked whether he might not visit the United States. "It- is hardly on the cards," he an swered. "It is not probable that 1 shall quit Brazil for some time to come. 1 Jiave interests to bo guarded which would suffer in my absence. The coun try is on the eve of a revolution; the empire Is doomed, and Its fall canno) be long delayed. Under the surface there art) plots and counterplots. ' I have striven to keep clear of them, and have succeeded, ao far us active partici pation is concerned; but I havts had knowledge of a number of them, and many of my closest friends are deeply involved. The nation's need is a strong, stable government. God knows how we are to obtain it, or what the history of the next few years will be." Before we separated for the night an agreement luui bwu made which uft erward seemed curious enough, though at the tlmo we entered into it with the utmost gravity. It was, in brief, that in caee either had an urgent request to make of the other, and the request was made by letter, there should bo used, cither as a signature or appended to the writer's name, a symbol, a Greek cross with three dots ranged vertically to the right of it. Perhaps it was Perez* earnestness as we talked over the mat ter which prevented me from appre ciating its strangeness. A little reflec tion might have persuaded me that we were wasting our breath, for It woe difficult to understand how I, in my poverty and jiowerlessnefis, could ever aid one who i»ssessed so much of the resources I lacked; but, under the in fluence of my friend's grave face and Words, u pledge to heed his call wa# given as solemnly as if the alliance were one of equals. The following day, a passenger on the steamer Bedouin, I leaned upon thfc vessel's rail and watched the Brazilian highlands growing less and less in the distance. [to UK COXTtHUUD.] WHIPPING HIS WEIGHT. The Champion I.uggrr Overestimated Ilia little Ability to Hw Sorrow. In the logging camps of Michig.tr might makes right and the man who has whipped all comers in fair tights is king of his camp. Ouo of these, said a logger, was very boastful of his exploits, lie had been the victor in a dozen fights and no one cared to cuter the lists with him, but every man In the camp hated the champion. Going into a saloon one day he announced: . "I'm tired of th<*e babies in camp. I ain't had a good fight in Michigan. I can w hip my w eight in dogs, wildcutsor anything that breathes far $100." A meek-looking nnn took thebetmid arrangements for the fight were made. It was to take place in a closed room one week from the time the bet was made. The day came and the champion called: "Bring on your animals." The man who had bet against the king of the camp brought his antagonist in a large sack, which had been deposited behind the stove in the saloon where tkc match had bK.II entered into, weather just befinaing to get cold. The gladiator cnter«rf the room, the sack was emptied and : if* people crowded at the window to see the contest. Out of the sack came three large hornet nests, the occupants of which had been revived by the heat. They Issued from the nests in swarms and lit all over the man. He fought them for a minute or two, theD, with a yell, jumped through the window, car rying sash and glass with him, never stopping until he reached the river, into which he jumped. "Said he could whip his weight in anything that breathed," remarked the meek little man, as he pocketed ths stakes, "but about five pounds of hornets knocked him out In the first round."-- Washington Star. It Was a Fine Stream. There is u "professional gentleman" in Portland who would make a success ful horse swapper. Having a farm to K'-ll recently, this descendant of the Pil grims advertised it, and soon after wards a gentleman called on him to s]>eak about it. "Well, judge," said he, "I have been over that farm you advertised and find it all right except the fine stream of water you mentioned." "It runs through the piece of woods In the lowest part of the meadow,"said the judge. "What! that little brook? Why, It doesn't hold much more than a spoon fid. I am sure If you would empty a bow 1 of water Into it, it would overflow. You don't call that a fine stream, do you ?" "Well, if it were much finer you couldn't see it at all," said the judge, blandly.—Portland Express.