Decatur Democrat, Volume 39, Number 51, Decatur, Adams County, 6 March 1896 — Page 7

©he genunxat DEOATUR, IND. ». BIAOKBUBN, . - • Pctmshto. *riie sultan nas yleldeffagain. (tn. Mr. Keely will have to keep his moItorput of Bight of the new photographHorseheads, N. Y., has declared for Gov. Morton, and the Governor expects to win by a neck. V<U, it Schlatter Is in the chain gang, he has the comfort of knowing he isn't the first "heeler” to serve in that capacity. Can any one, except Colonel Breckinridge, recall the name of his successor*? But perhaps it is enough to recall that he did a mighty good job. ▲ St Paul typewriter has been sued for >12,575 damages for alienating a husband's affections. The St, Paul key-pounder in action on the affections must be a terror. S . . .. In the last eight years only three persons in Florida have died of rattlesnake bite, and two of those were Englishmen who, there is reason for believing, had never heard of the Kentucky cure. The New York Journal asks: “Where is the Democrat who can think of the Chicago river in July without a shudder?" What has that to do with it? The Democratic national convention will not be held in the Chicago river. Schlatter, the healer, has been found in Southern California near Los Angeles. This is in accordance with his announcement that he was on his way to heaven. He has done the best he could without leaving earth. It is unfortunately true that the Atlantic cable inflicts All Austin’s poetry upon us. But that should not make ts wish Cyrus W. Field had never been orn. The cable also carries to England our opinion of the poetry. The American miser who died in Paris lately, leaving $400,000 in cash in his room, had resided in that city a dozen years and restricted himself to >2 a week for expenses. He made a study of how far a eou will go in Paris, md may have had what he considered i good time. *AII volunteered fluent apologies have some mixture of a lie in them. No person who plans apologies plans to speak the plain truth. If he is ingenious, he contrives a veneer of fact; but the, substance is false—an actuating fMnciple or motive is kept out of sight. Nobody who is fair and above-board n conscience and aims has the apologizing Impulse. Oollls P. Huntington persists in saythe Central Pacific means to ■epay the government 100 cents for ivery dollar of debt owed it A person infamiliar with the situation would rappose the only thing preventing the jentral Pacific from paying up was of the United States to acept the proffered money. If Huntinglon wants to pay up why didn’t he do t long ago, and why doesn’t he do it tow? Both the mind and body are so conitltuted that they require constant but varied action. Utter Idleness, of either >ody or mind, unless they be in a more ir less diseased state, is not only unlecessary, but harmful in the extreme, t is a habit which, once indulged In, vlll grow upon the individual. Change f occupation for the muscles, change J the current of thought for the brain, I what will promote the fullest and lost healthful development of both. How Ignorant are they who talk of tie days of romance being over, as lough the unexpected happened one rhlt less often than of yore! A lolterr on one of the bridges of the Seine, le other day, was addressed by a tranger who placed a packet of bankotes in his hand, with the remark that e hoped life might be sweeter to the sclplent than it had been to the giver, nd before the other had recovered rom his surprise, the man had climbed ver the balustrade and was drowned. These things are often unknown to le world: There is much pain that is ulte noiseless, and vibrations that ake human agonies are often a mere hisper in the roar of hurrying existice. There are glances of hatred that ab and raise no cry of murder; robsrles that leave man or woman for rer beggared of peace and joy, yet jpt secret by the sufferer—committed ■ no sound except that of low moans the night—seen in no writing except tat made on the face by the slow onths of suppressed anguish and earmorning tears. Many an inherited >rrow that has marred a life has been ■eathed into no human ear. It is surprising what strange and unual Climes parents sometimes burden eir children with, especially if the rname is itself somewhat peculiar, r., Samuel States, of Jefferson, Pa., id a son whom he called “United.” me time ago he addressed a letter to Inited States, Pauxtawney, Pa.,” and e postmaster, thinking that no nalne is on the letter but that of our conns', held it for better directions. Some ars ago there lived in Southern New >rfc a man warned Federal Oonstltun Dinlnney. He was born on the y the constitution was signed, Sept , or tj. day a god a Jnilf_.

later when the nine States needed tn set the new Government in operation were secured. In New York City a baby born on the 25th of November, 1783, was named by its parents “Evacuation,” that being the day that the last British soldier stepped from New ' York docks on the British meu-of-war that were to take them home. Evacuation Smith, we believe, was his name, and he had no trouble to remember his birthday so long as he remembered one of the most Important events in New York history. For every great discovery or invention the most impossible and preposterous claims are put forth by people whose enthusiasm and imaginative faculty exceed their knowledge. So it is with the Roentgen or cathode or X ray, or whatever else anyone may choose to call a certain little understood force, or mode of motion. Roentgen discovered that by tjhe agency of this “ray” images of contain substances were formed upon sensitized plates, though objects which dp not transmit ordinary rays of light were interposed between the substances "shadowed” and the plate. And already we have been told that the “ray” has resuscitated a drowned mouse, and that Mr. Edison is preparing to take a picture of a man’s brain, ahd that the ray is going to cure numerous diseases by penetrating the human body innocuously and slaughtering myriads of baclll. This is a very wonderful force, no doubt, but let no one suppose that it will penetrate tissues and produce pictures of bones, and at the same time penetrate bones and produce pictures of tissues; that It will bring dead mice to life but kill bacilli and do no harm to human tissues. The word “perfunctory” applies to Queen Victoria’s speech from the throne more accurately than it applies to any other official act In the world. It is a mere form. Its most emphatic utter-; ances refer in only the least significant terms to the most important public events. The speeches of the Queen relate to matters on which she has nothing to say for herself; she can originate nothing, declare nothing that is of great Import. A speech is written by the Premier and approved by the entire Cabinet It is then read to her and approved and she authorizes some officer of the Government to read it in Parliament. It is accepted as the little diplomatic evasive siftings of public and foreign business which the Government is willing the people should understand. To Americans the only really important part f the Queen’s speech delivered recently at the opening of Parliament was the reference to Venezuelan affairs, and that is very lame. There is nothing about the Mom roe doctrine. There is no hint as to the position of the United States on the question of European colonization on the western continent. The venerable monarch paraphrases President Cleveland’s forcible message in a statement that “the Government of the United States has expressed a wish to co-oper-! ate in terminating the differences which have existed for many years between my Government and the republic of Venezuela upon the boundary of that country and my colony of British Guiana.” She has expressed het sympathy, good old lady, “with tho| desire to come to an equitable ment,” and she trusts “that further; negotiations will lead to a satisfactory settlement.” And, bless her old soul, she probably will make Salisbury and Chamberlain come to her way of thinking in the end. TOO MUCH LAUGHTER. The Curious Case of a Neuro Now Exciting London Specialists. A case of Insanity of a curious sort is just now exciting considerable interest among the medical fraternity of London, says an exchange. A negro was found the other day in a gentle-; man’s house at Wlllesden and could give no account of himself because of severe fits of laughter which convulsed his frame. He was taken to the nearest workhouse and ever since then has done nothing but laugh. He has not uttered a word in the interval, and what is his name or where he came from is unknown. He laughs continuously from morning till night and at meal times he swallows his food like lightning in order, apparently, that he may continue his fit of mirth with as little interruption as possible. When he goes to sleep his sides shake with laughter, and in the morning the moment he opejs his eycs*his capacious mouth opens'i too, with a loud guffaw. At first it was thought he had adopted this means to escape from being tried on the charge of attempted burglary, but physicians who have examined him unite in pronouncing him insane and saying that his cure is doubtful. The chances are, it seems, that he will literally laugh himself to death. This form of infinity, though rare, is not unknown to medical science, though the mania is generally of a transitory nature. There are several cases on record of grave personages, who had rarely been seen to smile, suddenly breaking into a habit of uncontrollable and contagious laughter. Dr. Clouston tells of a solid, prudent business man who one day startled his family by a fit of laughter which lasted so long and was so hilarious that every one in the room had to join in. From time to time, after that he would be seized in the church, in the train or in the streets, and whenever he started all who heard him would have to follow. It was the first symptom of mania. Very soon delusions and the most outrageous conduct supervened and then—the asylum. Send a boy down town with a tin bucket, and he will lose the lid. You can’t stuff some people stf much ■ .

MEMORIES. A® a perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave mejall things leave me; You remain. Other thoughts may come and go, Other moments I may know, That shall wruflt me, in their going, As a breath blown to and fro. Fragrant memories, fragrant memories, Come and go. Only thoughts of you remain In my heart where they have lain. Perfumed thoughts remaining, A hid sweetness in my brain. Others leave me; all things leave me; You remain. —Globe-Democrat IN fl TEACUP. Never was the soubrette of a farce or comedy livelier, wittier or more provoking than Julie Manau, and quite the opposite of her mistress, Madame | Blainvail, who, in silent melancholy and somber Mack, observed with strict decorum the first mouths of her widowhood. One bright spring morning in the month of May, Julie found hersellf standing in the center of Madame Ella in vail’s ahanniug boudoir. In one hand she held an open note, and in the other a brush, wthllch, with idle carelessness, she swung to and fro. The bit of tinted paper which so occupied her attention was neither more nor less than a love letter, a declaration of a most tender and absorbing passion, and this was the tenth time Julie had perused its contents, well pleased with the gush of sentiment and flow of soul. As she read the words so closely penned, she mechanically waved the feather brush to and fro, little dreaming of danger to her surroundings, and was suddenly awakened from her dream of bliss by hearing a crash as of a heavy fall and break, and, turning, she saw that she had accomplished the destruction of a valuable china cup, and with an aspect by no means the most smiling she contemplated the wreck her carelessness had brought about. “What will madam say to me for having broken her Sevres cup?” she questioned doubtfully. “To make the matter worse it was given to her by her dead husband. I will certainly be well scolded and perhaps discharged. What if I charge some one else with having broken the bit of china I would then escape a volley of words and a storm of frowns,” added the girl quickly. “I have an idea,” she exclaimed, and, with these words, she ran hastily from the room and returned in a few moments with a stone, with which she proceeded to break a pane of glass in the casement. Having done so, she laid the stone among the fragments of china. That this accident had occurred through an outside source it was Julie’s intention to imply; but, as windows are not broken for nothing, it was necessary to give a reason for the act, in order to prevent Madam Blainvail from suspecting the rase. “Here is the very thing,V said the girl, as she took from her pocket the note which had been in part the cause of the accident. “There are no names mentioned, and it will answer perfectly-” Julie knew the contents by heart, and could therefore well afford the sacrifice. Quickly was the epistle wrapped around the stone, the entire arrangement promising great success. A half hour elapsed and Madam Blainvail entered file room. She was, as usual, sad and depressed, and clad in the deepest weeds, which enhanced, the elegance of her figure, and rendered by contrast all the more fair the ivory whiteness of her skin. The widow at once perceived the shattered cup, and soon the anger she felt at the loss of this frail relic of the past gave way to indignation on reading the billet doux. “Is it possible.” she murmured, ‘Uhat people dare intrude thus upon my affliction—dare write me such effusions? I can scarcely believe that it is for me, and yet it must be Intended for the, since I find lit upon the floor of my boudoir.” That which most offended Madam Bla|,nvail was the impertinence of tilie Style—the freedom of expression. Had it been written in accordance with conventional rales, it would have produced less effeat. “At any cost I will discover the name of the man who has dared thus to address me in such language," she said, after a moment’s thought. “It must be from one of my neighbors.” The window through which Madam Blainvail imagined the missive had been thrown opened upon the garden. Opposite was a large and elegant house, with the Inhabitants of which the lady was personally unacquainted. For the first time she examined with curiosity*the building, and subsequently made inquiry. On the ground floor an English lady with her two daughters lived iu perfect retirement. On the first story an old general resided, who had long relinquished military life. Above, an honest family, consisting of a flathetr, mother and seven children. The third floor was to rept. Madam Blainvail had never looked nt the fourth story. She did so now, and perceived a young man standing at one of the windows. His eyes were raised to heaven in thought. His face was expressive anp attractive. On inquiry, Madam Blainvail found that he was a poet by the name of Adalbert. For a length of time the young man stood in mute reflection, and then, without turning his eyes toward the widow, test the window .; 4 • ,- 0 , \»<

“It is strange,” thought Madam Blalnvtall, for the Instant forgetting her annoyance, “and it must be that man; It can be no other." Having attained the ninth month of her widowhood, the moment was propitious for a new fancy—not that Madam Blainvail did not mourn, but her heart was softened by affliction and naturally yearned for sympathy, and recognized one corner at least in which consolation would be received. Under such circumstances the first applicant is most successful, if he but knows how to profit by his advantages. Chance favored Adalbert, and served him as a passport, Even the insolence of the letter was a problem which excited curiosity and awakened interest. Had an ordinary admirer arrivel by the beaten track, Madam Blainvail would have scorned his addresses—would have turned a deaf ear—but one who made his declaration through the violence of breaking window panes and costly china merited consideration; moreover, there could be no doubt as to the author, and there existed a singular and forcible contrast between the refinement of the young man’s appearance and the cavalier style of the letter. Still the whole affair appeared odd in the extreme, for why should a man write ‘tiros who had never cast even a furtire glance In her direction. The more she though of the matter the more deeply Interested she became; ’and Julie, much amused, watched in silence the result of her silly scheme. Again Adalbert returned to the window, and this time his eyes were turn tat toward terrestrial objects. As he glanced in the direction of the Hotel Blainvail he perceived the widow, and, charmed by her beauty and grace, deemed her an object worthy of his muse. "The distance Is great between us,” thought the poet. “I must lessen it.” As we have said, it was spring. Madam Blainvail had drawn her piano near the open window, and every morning was devoted to the practice of her music. Each time she entered her boudoir she glanced around for another broken cup; but Julie was prudent, and the accident was not repeated. This state of affairs continued for-about ten days. Suddenly Madam Blainvail was compelled to leave Paris, her health bethreatened. The physician induced her at once to hasten to Baden, in order to dirink the mineral waters, so excellent for the recovery of health and spirits. The widow, unable to frame an objection to the suggestion, although unwillingly, nevertheless, yielded, and accompanied by her uncle, started for the springs. On the day of the departure of Madam Blainvail, Adalbert received an unexpected visit. The visiitor was a man of not particularly prepossessing appearance. “If I am not mistaken, monsieur,” he said, “you are a poet.” “It is a name and fame for which I eitrive,” responded Adalbert. “I know of your talent, and esteem it,” continued the stranger, “and as a proof have come to order some of your versea You will not be surprised when I tell you that lam an editor. I wished i to publish an album for the New Year, , an album entitled “Boden and Its Environs.” “Did you say Baden ?”dnquired Adalbert. “Yes, Baden. It will be filled with illustrations of this department; a fine ■ artist has charge. Will you, my dear fellow, undertake the poetical matter? If you' accept you will be obliged to oomnience without delay, as there is no time to lose. An advance payment of two thousand francs will be paid you. Come, what is your answer?” “That I accept,” responded Adalbert. I “And you wil go to Baden?” | “Without delay.” Hasty preparations were made for his departure, and soon the young Frenchman had left the gay city behind Him. Adalbert was much surprised at this streak of good fortune. He could not imagine how his talent, which was scarcely above mediocrity, could have | obtained for him this fine offer. He little dreamed his success and renown sprang from the.simple breaking of a China cup. The opportunity was favorable for a literary debut. The book, he knew, would be sumptuously bound and exquisitely illustrated;' and 1 , with; a thrill of ambition and high resolve,'! the writer determined to spread his wings and vowed to realize renown. Monsieur Adalbert reached Baden and devoted himseif to such research os'his task required. The environs were visited and explored, and not a i single spot of interest was forgotten, j Madam Blainvail had heard his name mentioned among those of the other guests who had arrived. One evening at a ball given in the hotel, she perceived Adalbert sltanding in the midst of a group of young men. On leaving the party he passed the spot where sue was seated, without appearing to observe her, and then disappeared like a shadow.' They met again and again, each time with growing interest on the part of the lady, who seemed to be entirely unobserved by the poet. After an absence of six months Adalbert returned to Paris, bis labor completed. Full of hope and bright expectation, he assembled his friends and a few of bis old companions in misery—those, in flajct, in whom he entertained confidence —and confided his bright prospects. He read his work, and was warmly applauded. Rejoicing in their praise, be sought the editor, and was ■ astonished that he did not appear to , 'recognize him. “I have brought you my manuscript,” said Adalbert, in reply to his request respecting the nature of his mission. “Your manuscript! Ah, yes; but I am sorry to say business is dull; there is : no demand for literature, and we are obliged to retrench our expesnes.” “I to hear this,” responded

Adalbert; "but I hope my poems Win please you." "Poems! Whalt poems?” “The poems you ordered, descriptive of Baden.” “There is some mistake. What, in the name of heaven, am I to do with poetry ?” “Do! Why, have you forgotten that you ordered me to write verses for the new album?” . “I! I ordered you to write verse®?” “You did.” “Certainly you must be the victim of some strange dream. Why, I only publish books on jurisprudence. What,then, in the name of ail that is just, am I to do with poems?” "I cannot be deceived,” continued Adalbert. "Surely you are the man who gave me the two thousand francs In advance.” “Oh, yes; now that you mention that circumstance, I do recall the fact," said his listener, as though suddenly brought to recollection of the proceeding. “I thought I was not mistaken," replied the poet. “Oh, dear, no; the commission was given you last May." "Yes, in May.” "You will excuse my momentary oblivion,” continued the publisher, as he received the manuscript and immediately paid the sum due on receipt The volume was published shortly after, but without vignettes, and was wonderfully successful. Encouraged by this good fortune, Adalbert now dared to again turn his eyes toward the Hotel Blainvail, and to gaze fixedly upon the young and beautiful woman, so much rhe object of his thoughts, and who had long been the recipient of his most ardent love. Madam Blainvail, who was now only in slight mourning, gave a ball to celebrate the marriage of a near relative. Through the kindness of a mutual friend, Henry Adalbert was invited, and, for the first time, the widow and her admirer spoke. On seeing Madam Blainvail near, and observing her very aparent agitation when he addressed her, Henri was surprised and pleased, and soon bls conversation warmed into a tender and passionate avowal of his ardent admiration. Mathilde Blainvail listened to what seemed to her but the reiterated expression of all that had been written months before. "At last he has told me in person," she thought, “and in listening to the words I am happy.” Encouraged by her smile, Adalbert ■ spoke on, and she in no look or word chided the utterance of so much love, or even the stealing of a kiss. The simple exclamation of "Oh, Henri!” alone greeted the impulse. To Adalbert this love was new; to Mathilde Blainvail it was an old story, for, in the letter she still treasured, she believed the heart of Adalbert bad first found utterance, Adalbert, unconscious of the existence of said letter, looked with surprise upon the easy conquest of the woman. ...... “I must see to It,” he thought. “May it not be imprudent to marry a widow i who can so readily forget her dead I spouse and seems to absorb with avidity an avowal which the sex are apt to receive coyly, even if that coyness be assumed?” Having determined to solve all doubts, and loving while doubting, Adalbert requested permission to call on the following day. When he arrived Madam Blainvail was alone. Adalbert approached a small table, on which were placed some fragments of china, a stone, and a note tied with a blue ribbon. As he was about to extend his hand to examine a piece of the china, Madam Blainvail exclaimed: "Be careful, or you may break another cup.” “Another cup?" responded Henri in surprise. “I do not understand you.” ‘(Perhaps not; but let me ted.l you that you did accomplish that result; before you are the pieces." “The pieces! The pieces of what?” “Why, of the cup, to be sure.” “I may appear exceedingly stupid," i continued Adalbert: “but, at the same time, allow me to say I do not comprehend you.” “Gan you recall a morning six months ago?” “Yes, ths one on which I first saw you.” “Well, and how about the letter?” i “Letter! What letter?” “The letter you set me.” “I never sent you a letter.” “Not lied to a stone?” "Tied to a stone? No, upon my honor.” “I wiii refresh your memory. Look j at this stone and then at this letter, I which was thrown by you through that ! window. I understand your unwillingness to acknowledge the authorship of the letter, which is by no means a creditable effusion: but I have long since pardoned the offense for the sake of the offender." This explanation at once cleared all doubt iu the mind of Adalbert, according the lovely widow a fresh charm in so much as her love had been his, even before, he himself was aware of the fact. Having gained by the error, and fearing to dispel the illusion and perhaps call forth a rival, Adalbert accepted the proffered pardon, and it was not i until Mathilde Blainvail was the wife of the poet tliat she learned, through the confession of Julie Manau, that she had been deceived—From the French. Gloucester’s Fishing Fleet. The Gloucester (Mass.) fishing fleet comprises a total of 435 vessejs and boots above twenty tons burden, -with a tonnage of 32,01tetons, a decrease ot 18 vessels and 618 tons from last year. A large <num(ber of these vessels are engaged in the bank rod fishing, 50 sail ill’ tihe fresh lulibut season, while the i n'miniinder- proseeulfce the mackerel, herI ring, Georges and the inshore fishing.

A GRATEFUL ELEPHANT. How She Remembered the Man Wh< Cured Her Foot. I was a full-fledged M. D. once, and never «hould have thought of adpoting my present profession if it hadn't been for a queer incident when I first hung out my shingle. I had a rich neighbor, a man I was bound to propitiate; and the very first call I bad, after days of waiting for patients who didn’t come, was to bls bam to see what was the matter with his sick mare. I cured the mare and took In my shingle, for from tliat day to this I’ve never prescribed for a single human being. I had won a reputation stick to It. But that is neither her nor stick to it. But tfaats ’neither here nor there. Only, if you think animals can’t show gratitude and affection, perhaps you’ll change your mind. When I had been in practice for a year or two I sent for my brother Dick. He was a wonderful chap with all kinds of animals, and I thought perhaps I could work out of my part of }t and leave that for him. I never did, for Dick’s a cotton broker in New York now, and I should’ have to begin all over again to make a first-class physician. But thait’s what I meant to be then. The next day after Dick came I got a telegram from P. T. Barnum. I’d been down there once or twice to his own stable, and he had a good deal or faith in me. The dispatch was: “Hebe has hurt her foot. Come at once.” Hebe was a favorite elephant—a splendid creature and worth a smalt fortune. Well, I confess, I hesitated. I distrusted by own ability and dreaded result. But Dick was determined to go, and go we did. But when we got out of the cars Barnum himself was there with a splendid pair of matched grays. He eyed me very dubiously. “I’d forgotten you were such a ijttle fellow,” he said in a discouraged tone. "I’m afraid you can’t help her." His distrust put me on my mettle. “Mr. Barnum,” said I, getting into the rcariage, “if it comes to a hand-to hand fight between Hebe and ms I don't believe an extra foot or two of height would help me.” He laughed outright and began telling how the elephant was hurt. She had stepped on a small bit of iron, and it had penetrated the tender part of the foot. She was in intense agony, and almost wild with pain. Long ■before we reached-the enclosure in which she was we could hear piteous trumpeting, and when we entered we found her on three legs, swinging the hurt foot slow.y backward and forward and uttering long cries of anguish. Such dumb misery in her looks—poor thing! Even Dick quailed now. “You can never get near her,” he. whispered. “She’ll kill you, sure." Her keeper divined what he said. “Don’t you be afraid, sir,” he called out to me. "Hebe’s got sense. I took my instruments from Mr. Barnum. “I like your pluck, my boy,” he said, heartily, but I own that I felt rather queer and shaky as I went up to the huge beast. The men employed about the show came around us curiously, but at a respectful and eminently safe distance, as I bent down to examine the foot. While I was doing so, as gently as t could, I felt, to my horror, a light touch on my hair. It was as light as a woman’s, but as I turned and saw the great trunk behind me it had an awful suggestiveness. “She's only enduing your hair,” sung out the keeper, “don't mind her.” "I shall have to cut, and cut deep.” said I. byway of reply. He said a few words in some lingo, wnich were evidently intended for the elephant’s understanding only. Then he shouted with the utmost coolness. "Cut away.” The man's faiitfti Inspired me. There he stood, quite unprotected directly in front of the greak creature, and jabbered away to her as if this were an everyday occurrence. Well, I made one gash with the knife. I felt the grasp on my hair tighten percepttbly, yet not ung'bntly. Cold drops of perspiraitioilSliMne our all over me. "Shall I cut .ignaff?” I managed to call out. “Cut away!” came again the encouraging response. This stroke work. The abscess was lanced. We sprayed out the foot, packed it with oakum, and bound it up. The relief must have been immediate, for the grasp on my hair relaxed, the elephant drew a long, al- "n mos.t human sigh, and—well, I don’t know whait happened next, for I fainted dead away. Dick must have finished the business and picked up me and my . tools. I was as limp as a rag. It must have been a year and a halt after this happened that I was called to Western Massachusetts to see some fancy. horses. Barnum's circus happened to be there. You may be suretliat I called to inquire for my distinguished patient. - • “Hebe's we’ll and hearty, sir," the keeper answered me. “Come in.and sec her: she’ll be glad to see you.*’ “Nonsense,” said I, though I confess I had a ke»n curiosity to see if she would know me, as I stepped into the tent. There she stood, the beauty, as well as ever. For a moment she looked at me indifferently, then steadily aud with interest. She next reached out*het ; trunk ami laid it caressingly first on fl my shoulder and then on niy hair—how vividly her touch brought back to my mind the cold shivers l” endured art my introduction to her—and then she slowly lifted up hw foot, now whole and hea’-thy, and showed it to me, Thait’s the sober truth!—Chicago News.