Democratic Sentinel, Volume 20, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 July 1896 — Page 5

WORTH WINNING

CHAPTER XXX. When Camilla recovered consciousness •he found herself lying on the lower steps of the staircase with Cyril bending over her. As soon as she opened her eyes he •aid: “You feel better now. dear Camilla, do you not?” “Better? What is the matter? Oh, yes,” she added, quickly pressing her white little bands to her forehead. “I remember, I turned giddy. Did I fall?” “No; I was just in time. I heard you laughing strangely and hurried to the •pot.” “Thank you,” she said, vaguely, “you —you are the very person 1 wanted to •ee.” “Yes,” he replied, evidently surprised. It had long seemed to him that Miss Harding never did want him. “Pray what can I do for you?” She was in such a hurry to go through with what she had resolved upon that she came to the point at once. “I have to speak to you without loss of time on ▼ery important business.” And she laid an imperceptible emphasis on the last word. “Shall we go into the library?” he asked. “Oh, dear, no. This will do. If any listeners come we shall see them.” “Well, I am all attention.** “My father before mnking that dreadful attempt, wrote me a letter, which I have only read to-day. I learn from it that you had promised to pay all his debts of honor on condition that —that I become your wife.’" There was no embarrassment in her tone or aspect as she said this. The •light hesitation was due solely to disgust; but she concealed the feeling, and as Acton merely bowed his head in assent, she continued: “My father, I know, will not recover unless his mind is set at ease. The doctors say as much. I have just told' him that you are going at once to settle all his bets.” “Indeed!” “Yes. I will pay the price.” “Those are hard words.” “Why so? Everything in this world has to be paid for, and dearly too. I want to know if you consider the agreement still open? I need say nothing of my sentiments. You know quite well I cannot love, but I know this is a point you are indifferent upon.” “Oh, how little you know me. I would give worlds for your affection, but ” “But you are content to do without it. To our agreement, please,” she went on, with a strange, low laugh. “Now, then, are you still prepared to pay those sums, thousands, no doubt, for my father, and take me in exchange? If so, you had' better rush up to town this very day and do it. At the same time you are free to publish our engagement. I will marry you as soon as the preliminaries can be decently arranged—say in two months from now.” It took a good deal to startle Cyril Acton; nor did the mere fact of even Camilla Harding coming into his conditions seem to him beyond the limits of possibility. But what did literally take his breath away were the words and the manner of this girl he thought he knew so ■well, as she suddenly seemed to turn into a new being. He now put on a very melancholy face as he took a Canadian telegram out of his pocket, which he handed to her, say in “I have had sad news to-day. Read it.”

“Viscountess Hammersley, Montreal, to Hon. Cyril Acton, South Audley street, London. Your father has had a fit and lies in a hopeless condition. lam distracted.” Though these were people whom Camilla had never seen, her gentle heart, never so engrossed in her own sorrows as to be indifferent to the sufferings of any human being or even dumb animals, at once began to pity and feel for them. “Oh,” she said, “what anxiety your poor mother must be in! What will you do?” “Well, what can I do? It can serve no possible end for me to set out for Canada. If it ends fatally, I shall get my mother to come over here.” This might be all very sensible, but it struck Camilla that the young man took the sad news with wonderful coolness, and she reflected that he had then no sign of grief till he produced the telegram. However, she now so abhorred Acton that it would have positively disgusted her to discover any good trait in him. Fortunately at this moment Lady Prendergast appeared' upon the scene, and was informed of Lord Hammersley’s sudden illness, which of itself accounted for the heir having to run up to London, since there lawyers and agents are more easily communicated with, and it was impossible to say what a man in Cyril’s situation might not have to take upon himself. So after the exchange of a few conventional phrases, he departed then and there, no allusion having been made to his new engagement. No sooner had he left the house, however, than Camilla imparted to her gran’ma the startling intelligence, returning for that purpose to that overjoyous, over-careless, acted manner which was in reality so unlike her. But the news was such a delightful surprise to the old lady that she did not stop to observe or analyze very closely, and was as happy over it as Camilla intended her to be. Cyril’s departure, besides the breathing time from the dread oppression of his presence which it afforded, left Camilla at full leisure to welcome the marvelous improvement in her father’s state which her heroic sacrifice had inaugurated. Her respite from Acton’s society was not of long duration. Twice he wrote during his stay in London, and' within the week he was back again—a guest beneath the very roof of Silverruead. There had been no love letters. His first epistle was to Lady Prendergast, and simply announced that Lord Hammersley was no more. The second was indeed to Camilla, but as it only preceded him by a few hours, it consisted of only a few hasty lines. On his return —it was the moment before dinner —she had advanced as he entered the drawing room, and boldly, in the presence of the two elders, offered him her cheek to kiss. After that she told him plainly that as Miss Harding she would not be caressed, and on the rare occasions on which he essayed to break through this compact, she immediately took refuge in flight. We know that Cyril detested rows, and that he was one who could wait CHAPTER XXXI. The weeks flew by, and there was no

BY JEAN MIDDLEMIIS.

conceivable pretext for deferring the marriage. When it reached Camilla’s ears, as it could not fail to do, that Horace Brudenell was to be married on the same day as herself, she was far more upset by it than she could have imagined that any information concerning the only man she had ever loved, would have power to disturb her. From that moment her thoughts were perpetually with him. It is very difficult to convey any just idea of the manner in which they were so. It was hardly thinking—a brooding, a semimeditation, a day dream in which she sought ffitental shelter from the impending horror of her marriage; and to a great extent, it served her end. At length the fatal morning arrived. Lord Hammersley is pale and nervous, ns Camilla kneels by hie side in the little church, and he keeps looking about —as much as he dares—with uneasy glances, and a seriousness upon his clear-cut couptenance ill-suited to the festive oocasion. The officiating clergyman, a fine and venerable looking man, archdeacon of the diocese, had proceeded with the ceremony in the particularly dignified and impressive manner which, in the pulpit, had made him a name as a preacher. He was one of those speakers who lend value to whatever they say. When he reached that portion of the marriage service, “Cyril, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to love —” strange, faint, distant noises, just audible for the first few instants, had in them, even then, a something which was ominous. Ten seconds more and they had form and meaning, and every one turned and consulted his neighbor’s eyes. It was a galloping of horses, a rumbling of wheels, shouts of alarm or consternation. The clergyman stopped dead in the midst of the service, then recovering himself, endeavored to proceed. But like a hurricane the tumult swept on —nearer, ever nearer, as if the church were its aim and it would strike it to the ground. From the archdeacon to the smallest cottage urchin every face was bleached but one, and that was the bride’s. What cared she? And now an open carriage and sou and this one had no bridal favors, you may be sure—has dashed up to the church door, stopping so suddenly that the streaming, foam-flecked and panting horses are thrown violently upon their haunches. Two of its four occupants spring helter-skelter to the ground; the others, men in years, follow as they can. For the past five minutes all have been shouting, as they continue to do. “Stop the marriage! In the queen’s name! In the queen’s name, no marriage —stop, stop!” And the various groups along the road —for the whole population were out today—had caught up, they knew not how, the enthusiasm of the newcomers, and lustily joined in the cry, many of them no doubt recognizing the evident leader of the quartette, who stood erect, clutchifag the box seat and urging on the postilions in a frenzy of excitement. This man, the first to enter the church, did not walk but tore up to the very altar steps, the spellbound crowd opening before him as waves cut by some racing prow. “Hold, in the queen’s name, hold!”

Camilla turned her head and gazed on Horace Brudenell. “Your pardon, sir; you see there was no time to lose. A moment more and you will thank me, ns must every honest man, for this seemingly brutal interruption.” With wonderful self-possession the bridegroom, who had started to his feet on the carriage stopping, addressed him. Perhaps he was less astounded at this bewildering occurrence than was generally supposed. “And by what right do you Invoke our sovereign’s name to cover such an outrage, Mr. Brudenell?” “By the right that every subject has to stop felony! No less. You are an impostor and a rogue.” “How dare you!” exclaimed the bridegroom, advancing upon the other, as if to smite him; but Horace never blanched. “Lord Hammersley!” began the archdeacon, who leaned upon the arm of one of the assistant ministers and had not yet spoken. “Whom do you address, sir?” said Horace. “This man is not Lord Hammersley, and he knows it.” “If I am not,” almost yelled the accused man, desperately trying to brazen it out, “I should very much like to know who is?” “Behold' him!” And as Horace said this, he pulled forward his old friend, Jack Forbes, of whom no one till now had taken any notice. He stood there, blushing like a girl, and wishing himself a thousand miles away almost as fervently as his cousin did. “But, sir,” faltered the archdeacon, “what proof?” “Oh, I have plenty. First, I am well known to many here present; my name is Horace Brudenell. There stands my uncle, Sir Howard'. But I bring down my chief witness, Sir Ewing Crofton—” here he took the great doctor for a moment by the band—“and I come armed with the law in the person of this gentleman.” Here he indicated the elderly man in black, who had come with them. Then turning to the clergyman again, he asked, in a tone which, do what he would to render it respectful, had still in it a strong piece of menace: “Do you consent, sir, to suspend the ceremony?” “I have no other course.” The false Lord Hammersley once more spoke—bold to the last “Sir,” to the clergyman, “I am here, it appears, friendless and defenseless —a position which, as Englishmen, you will respect. I go straight to London, where alone I can obtain that justification which I pledge you my honor I can command. The scene you have witnessed is either an unheard-of outrage or a gross mistake. If the former, those who have committed it shall atone dearly for their crime; if the latter, they shall curse their credulity. Miss Harding, ladies and gentlemen —till we meet again.” And he strode, with well-acted dignity, straight out of the church.

CHAPTER XXXII. Had he who came to interrupt these unholy nuptials been a common felon, in the Portland garb of infamy, Camilla Harding would have felt inclined to clasp him to her heart. According to the evidence befon* her—as has been so repeatedly shown in this history—Horace Brudenell’s conduct toward her was wholly indefensible. There is, however, that royal prerogative about the truth that as a rule, it is sure to assert itself sooner or later, and shine

through falsehood, as the glorious sun athwart huge banks and packs of cloud. No sooner did the bride gaze upon that once-loved face than she read his innocence by the light of her heart; and the discomfited bridegroom, followed by his best man, had barely reached the porch, when Camilla went straight up to her old lover, with her hand out, and said low but earnestly: “Will you come back with us? I must see you and —thank you.” “I will do all you "wish, Miss Harding. I feel you are entitled to much fuller explanation.” And she, upon this assent, turned to Lady Prendergast, and hurried her away. How Silvermead was reached nobody could afterward have told. The party packed themselves away promiscuously in each successive vehicle that drove up, the nearest getting in, and all too anxious about fleeing to care how they went The crowd was a silent one, exchanging little more than whispers with each other, and gazing in search of further information upon the faces of “the quality,” as they drove by. How much of that same diamond-like article —the truth—Horace had read upon the young girl’B face which she had seen in his, in those brief moments, is uncertain —men are less gifted in such clairvoyances—but he now fairly panted and burned to have an exhaustive explanation with her he had once so wildly adored. “Jack,” he said, seizing the other’s arm as they jolted along, “you well snow 1 came down here for you, and to do an act of common justice; but I no sooner caught sight of Cam—of Miss Harding, than— Oh, Jack, I believe I love her as wildly as ever.” “Oh, Horace; and Lady Susan, who was so noble in letting your marriage be put off for three days?” “I can’t help that I am not telling you what I shall do, but what I feel; we don’t make our own emotions.” Camilla made the best of her way to change her dress. She felt so well and strong. Half an hour later she joined the others in the dining room. During the rather hurried repast everybody made an effort to talk of indifferent matters, so that there was little stiffness and less silence. When the ladies rose Horace went nud opened the door, Camilla saying to him as she passed, but so that all might hear her: “Let us go out. I brought down a hat” And without a word he followed her, and the youthful pair went straight to the little summer house where Camilla had held that interview with her father. Oh, let us draw a veil over their secret words. Do we not know all that each of them had to learn?—all the minutely told machinations of the evil Cyril Acton? For the first hour, which fled like ten minutes, they did little but relate facts. Of course, as soon as Horace learned that it was her father whom he had seen on that fatal night long ago, all became clear to him. Why had not some such suspicion, at least, struck him as possible? But no, fate had willed it otherwise. Perhaps the most thrilling moment of their confidence, of this joint narrative of their young lives since last they met, was when it transpired that their fiendish enemy had suppressed Camilla’s two letters. It is hard to say which felt the most on this cardinal fact coming to light Horace bounded from his seat. “Where is he?” he cried, wildly stretching his hands for the invisible foe. “Slave, hound! Oh, that I could tear him!” “And I thought him my friend,” exclaimed Camilla. “Listen. He pretended to give me your very words after you had read my letters? Oh, Horace, do you not wonder that a thunderbolt is not sent down to crush such reptiles in the very act?” Then he made her tell him all she had written to him, almost word for word; and as it was graven almost indelibly in her heart, she did his bidding with little effort. And then, when all the hard facts had been dug out and turned over and over, what torrents of words did these two pour forth to express and give vent to their long-imprisoned feelings. As they sat hand in hand, her sunny head resting against his black coat in which he had journeyed from London, they were indeed the type of two long tempest-tossed ships which, after sailing in halcyon seas side by side, had been parted by the storm, to meet now, torn and shattered, and to find rest and shelter in the same port With the knowledge of each other’s innocence all the old love returned to their true breasts with tenfold force. Did they forget Lady Susan? Oh, no, they could think of her—pity her with a clear conscience. She, like themselves, must bear whatever pain might fall to her lot from the black, heartless guilt of one and the same villain. In real life—and there it is where fiction least resembles truth —deliberate crime is nearly always irreparable—its effects eternal. Indeed, we may safely say that were it otherwise crime were scarcely crime—sin, sin. We have seen pretty exactly the amount of guilt committed by Cyril Acton, and more vaguely the degree of suffering entailed upon our promised spouses thereby. It remains on this subject only to indicate in what proportion the trail of the serpent respectively afflicted' both themselves and Lady Susan hereafter. As the lovers sit together in the pleasant rays of the October sun, both are exquisitely happy; Horace’s felicity is troubled by no doubt or misgiving. Camilla’s right to him, he tells himself, her priority claim upon his honor—is too evident to require stating. He Was engaged to her, she had never given him his liberty, and the grounds upon which he had taken upon himself to break the tie now turned out to be imaginary. He was in the position of a man who, believing his wife is dead, becomes betrothed to another woman. He knew, of course, that decency would demand some considerable delay before he could lead to the altar a girl who had that moment left it under such very exceptional'circumstances. Time must be given for the world to partially forget the countless articles, paragraphs, jokes, and even, doubtless, illustrations, which the press, especially the “society” papers, would infallibly issue by the cartload, regarding so racy and unusual an occurrence. But he felt so transported in regaining his idol and finding her all-in soul at least —that of old he dreamed her —that just to bask in her presence, hearken to her sweet voice and caress her hand abandoned to his own, was all the joy he could bear for a long time to come. But the next day faithful Jack came with a message that seemed to strike the last shackles from his spirit. Before she ever knew of the reunion of the lovers. Lady Susan, fancying a slight in the postponed marriage, and somewhat taken up with an old flame reappearing from the Orient, had written him, coldly dispelling all further ideas of a marriage. And in all her prayers that night—and they were real, honest prayers, said audibly with the lips, and upon her knees—her acts of praise and impromptu petitions or him she loved, none came more straight from Camilla’s heart than her fervent act of thanksgiving to the Merciful Dispenser of all things, who had saved her, in so unhoped-for a manner, from being, even at that very moment, Cyril Acton’s wife. (The end.)

We never know the worth of water till the well is dry.

CARSON CITY MINT THEFTS

SUPT. MASON TELLS THE STORY OF TRACING THEM. Jones Pocketed Bert of Bullion and Sub* stituted Others That Contained Less Cold and More Silver. One morning, about a year and a half ago, J. W. Adams, Superintendent of the Mint of Carson City, received a communication from Hlrseh Harris, the melter and refiner of the Mint, containing the rather startling statement that a clean-up of the refinery had revealed an apparent shortage In gold bullion of, approximately, 3000 standard ounces. Superintendent Adams apprised R. E. Preston, Director of the Mint at Washington, requesting that some competent person be sent to Carson City to investigate. Mr. Preston selected Mr. Andrew Mason, Superintendent of the United States Assay Office in this city. Mr. Mason reached Carson City on March 15. 1895. The result of his investigation was the trial and conviction of one man who had robbed the Mint of nearly SIOO,OOO, and of another who had stolen about $30,000. The investigation revealed some other things which may bring about radical changes in the conduct of all the Mints, and in the appointment of Mint officials. Mr. Mason has just returned from his last trip to Carson City, and at his home In Orange recently, he told a New York Sun reporter an interesting story of how the thieves were caught and finally brought to justice. Upon Mr. Mason's arrival in Carson he took charge of the inciter and refiner’s department. He was informed by the superintendent of the Mint that the bullion involved in the robl>ery was that delivered to the melter and refiner from June 1 to December 31,1894. “I am very much obliged for your information,” said Mr. Mason to Superintendent Adams, “but, if you don’t mind, we’ll have a general clean-up of all the bullion delivered to the melter and refiner between June 1, 1894, and to-day. That clean-up will begin at once.” Mr. Harris, the melter nnd refiner, was only too glad to have the clean-up as thorough as possible. The discovery of the shortage had nearly given him nervous prostration. Further than that, he had assumed the duties of his office only a short time before the shortage was discovered, and that made him doubly anxious. Before his appointment Mr. Harris had been prominent in Democratic politics in Carson City, but knew little about the work in a Mint, or of any of its departments. He was recommended to President Cleveland by the Chairman of the Democratic State Committee of Nevada. For the actual management of the business of his department Mr. Harris relied upon John T. Jones, the assistant melter and refiner, who was a hold-over appointee of ex-President Harrison. Jones was really the acting superintendent of the melting and refining department. The work of cleaning up had gone on for five days. One day Mr. Mason had brought to him a number of the “melts” or bars of bullion, which had been delivered to the refinery in the period specified by the superintendent of the Mint, and which contained, according to the stamps they bore, a large percentage of gold. It was reassayed, and showed only forty-six ounces of gold, instead of 1.143. Mr. Mason was with the assayer dur-, ing all the time that the reassay was being made, and when the assayer finally announced the result his face was as white ns chalk. In one “melt” alone a theft of about $21,000 had been discovered.

“Who, if anyone connected with the Mint, would know about this bogus ‘melt?’ ” asked Mr. Mason of the assayer. The man seemed not to hear the question. He was as dumb as an oyster. “I have not discovered nny defect in your hearing so far, my friend. Please answer my question,” said Mr. Mason. “Well, sir,” replied the assayer, “I suppose Mr. Jones must have known about it.” “Mr. Jones is the assistant superintendent of the refilling department?” “Yes, sir.” “Would it be possible for this melt to have been assayed and stamped, and put into the vault wthout Mr. Jones knowing about it?” The assayer thought for a moment, and then replied very slowly, “No, sir, I don’t think it could be possible. In fact I’m sure it could not.” “All right, my friend,” replied Mr. Mason, “you will say nothing about this discovery and we shall see what we shall see.” Then a number of other melts were reassayed, and the loss of $75,000 in gold was accounted for. Other discoveries led to the belief that someone had stolen from the Mint, between June 1, 1804, and June 15, 1895, nearly SIOO,OOO in gold. After Mr. Mason had the results of the reassays officially submitted to him, he walked into the office of the assistant superintendent of the refining department, and asked for his book of records of the assays and refinings. “Certainly, sir, I’ll get it from the safe and send it to you,” said Jones. “I’ll not trouble you to do that. If you’ll get It now, please, I’ll take it with me,” Mr. Mason responded. Jones turned white, then his face flushed, and then turned pale again. He seemed to have difficulty in moving in his chair. Finally he pulled himself together and went to the safe for the book. During the conversation Mr. Mason had noticed what seemed to him to be a curious circumstance. The door of the vault containing all the “melt's” in the Mint was just at the right of Jones’s desk and not a foot away from it. After rummaging around the safe for some time Jones found the book that was wanted, and gave it to Mr. Mason. When Mr. Mason was able to make a careful examination of the book the first thing that attracted his attention was that nearly a dozen pages had been torn out. Next he discovered in Jones’s own.handwriting the entry of the very “melt” in which, by reassaying, the first evidence of the thefts was discovered. It was entered as having been received into the vault and charged otf. Then, to cover the shortage in gold and the surplus In silver, the same melt was watered as having been sent to the re-

finery again, and again entered as haring been received at the vault. In other words, Jones had made two entiles upon his book of something he did not have. It had been rumored about Carson City that there were some Irregularities at the Mint, and one of the Carson papers made some reference to the fact, making the statement that, while nothing definite could be learned,* it was commonly supposed that some error had occurred in counting the money.” This statement fell under the eye of a man named Beck, proprietor of the Reno Reduction Works. On reading the statement Beck immediately told Superintendent Adams that a man named James H. Heney, who was a silver dissolver at the Mlut from December 1, 1801, to June 30, 1803, had, several months before, sent to the Reno Reduction Works to be melted, and had subsequently sold to the Selby Smelting aud Lend Company of San Francisco $23,000 of fine gold. When this intelligence was received at the Mint the books of the assistant superintendent of the refining department were gone over again, and it was found where Jones, in order to cover up his own stealings, had been obliged to cover up Honey’s as well. The evidence collected by Mr. Mason was submitted to tlie Grand Jury, and both Heney and Jones were indicted. Heney, at the time, was not in Carson City. Jones was a prominent man in the town politically, and his family were prominent socially. Great pressure was brought to bear upon the Grand Jury to take no notice of the case. Jones was arrested as soon ns the Indictment was found, and he gnve bail. Ileney was pursued by Secret Service detectives through California, New Mexico, Arizona, and was finally taken at Leadville. Each man went through two trials before convictions were obtained. Both Jones and Heney were sentenced to imprisonment for eight years, and to pay a fine of SSOOO each. Jones accomplished his stealings by simply appropriating "melts” from the vault, and then accounting for his shortage by stamping upon a melt that was sent to him subsequently figures to make up the amount of gold he had taken. Heney took his gold from the separating room. When the silver had been so far separated from the gold ns to allow the gold “spang” or powder to be free from the silver, he would simply pick up n handful of the powder now and then and put it In his pocket.

All About Flies.

Enter now the fly season. What a lot of human misery these insects are accountable for. If nil the flies in the world could be exterminated it would be a gront blessing to mankind. They do some good ns scavengers, but that is far overbalanced by the harm they do, apart from the discomfort they occasion. There is no doubt that they carry diseases from one person to another, aud so help to spread epidemics. Eye complaints nre propagated by a certain small species of flies. A fly of this sort will alight on an Individual with an eye trouble and tnke some of the germs off with him and deposit them on the next unfortunate person he settles ui>on. Flies also convey Infection from sores. Mrs. Fly lays her eggs in warm refuse or in decaying vegetable matter. The heat hatches these eggs and a lot of maggots nre brought Into the world. After a few days they reach the pupa stage, and from the pupa emerge shortly afterwards the perfect winged flics. Thus these pests are generally bred In stables, which accounts for most people’s great objection to living near them. When the young flies are full fledged they fly off und enter any doors nnd windows which are left incautiously open, and worry the inmates. Flies ordinarily live about three weeks. The first cold weather kills most of them, Just enough living through the winter to propagate their species. A few of the most sturdy of the females live through each winter and in the spring lay eggs before dying and so continue their kind. They remain torpid during the cold weather in nooks and crannies, which accounts for the fact that they do not bother the human race except in summer. There are glnnts and pigmies among flies, Just as there are in the human race. Everybody has noticed how much smaller some flies are than others. It is commonly supposed that these little ones are the young, but such Is not the case. A fly does not grow at all after it has reached the Winged state. It attains its full growth in the larvae stage, as do all other Insects. There is a popular notion that flies have suckers on their feet which enable them to walk on the walls and ceilings. This, like many other generally accepted theories, is not the case. They have no suckers on their feet at all, but have a pair of little cushions and two t hooks on the \jottom of each foot. The cushions are covered with lots of knobbed hairs nnd kept moist by an exuding fluid, thus enabling the fly to walk on the ceiling or window pane, the moist, hairy pads adhering to the smooth surface. They have six legs, which gives them a large surface for sticking on to things. The twelve hooks on their feet they use when they are obliged to travel over rough surfaces such as whitewashed walls or cloths, the hooks enabling them to hold on to the little irregularities.

Paste That Will Keep a Year.

Dissolve a teaspoonful of alum In a quart of warm water. When cold, stir in flour enough to give the consistence of thick cream, being careful to beat up all the lumps. Throw in half a dozen cloves and stir in as much powdered resin as will stand on a penny. Pour the flour mixture into a teacupful of boiling water, stirring well all the time. Let it remain on the stove a few minutes, and it will be of the consistency of mush. Pour it into an earthen or china vessel; let it cool, cover it, and put in a cool place. When needed for use, soften a portion with warm water. It will laat.a year, and,is better than gum, as it does not gloss the paper and can be written upon. The deepest silver mine is at Carson City, Nev.; depth, 3,300 feet

FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS.

CASTLE BriLDING. “Brother-boy" is building blocks As bis mamma sits aud rocks By (he fire, and dreams Block by block bis castle fast Baby builds, until at last, Qui:e complete it seems. Then, a sudden little Jar, All bis happiness to mar, Towers in waste are lain. Little eyes with tears are blind; Then he brightens; “Never mind, I will build again." Teaching lessons with your blocks, As your mamma sits and rocks, By the fire, and dreams. Mamma builds her castles, too, Quite as eagerly as you, Builds them strong, she dreams. But they often fall away, L ike the castles of your play, Efforts all in vain. Would I had your spirit, dear,— As 1 check the falling tear, — Glad to build again.

A CAT’s QUEER FAMILY. When pussy becomes a mother, with kittens to care for and protect, she usually sets a splendid example for careless human mothers to follow. The maternal devotion shown by even a tramp cat is a pathetic and lovely sight. Just htw much a cat cares for her kittens is often illustrated by the fact of a mother cat adopting strange aud unlikely auimals to look after when her own little ones are killed or taken away from her. The strangest case of this sort on record is now in evidence in the home of Rudolph Paltauf, who lives in the town of Pearl River, N. J. Mr. PaltauPs cat was recently robbed of her litter of kittens aud for days wont about crying piteously. Suddenly she disappeared in the woods, to return last Tuesday with a live baby rabbit in her mouth, which she nursed with the utmost fondness. On the same dav she and another cat went into the woods and brought back five wee bunnies. This queer brood aud the cat mother are the talk of the town, and i>eople are traveling for miles to see the strange sight In Farmer Paltauf s barn. The mother cat’s odd family is getting ou nicely, und it seems the most natural thing in the world for the long-ea-ed kangaroo footed bunnies to be washed, fed and otherwise cured for by their feline mother. NIGHT ON A WAltsmt*. The "First call" is souuded again five minutes before suu lowu, when Ihu ensign aud tlte jack-halyards are maimed, and a stay-light made ready for hoisting to indicate the Hhip’s whereabouts during the night Then the Color-call follows at sundown ub the flag Is lowered, and saluted by all as it reaches the dock. The Assembly Is then Bouuded for evening quarters and muster, but there Is no drill. As a rule, It Is just after Btinsot when the bugle call Is sounded to “Stand by hammocks ” That brings all the crew ou deck, and they stand in silence close out to the ship's side beside the hammock nettiugs, In two ranks fudng the stern, until the boatswain’s male reports to the officer of the deck, “All up and aft.” The latter then orders, “Uncover! —Pipe down!” and in obedience to tills order and the boatswain’s whistle the nettings nre thrown open, and the hammocks are served out and taken below to their proper places. Each hammock has printed on it a number, and that same number is on the hooks below decks where that hammock has to be swung, bo that each man sleeps In the same place every night, and that place Is called Ills “billet.” Unless, now, a boat is called away there will be no moro bugle calls until five minutes of nine o'clock. The period la one of complete relaxation, and is spent by the sailors in saioklng, spinning yarns, singing, plating on musical Instruments, and dancing. At flye minutes of nine the First cull is again sounded as a warning to the crew to prepare to turn Into their hammocks and go to sleep. Then at nine o’clock comes the call known as “Tattoo." This Tattoo Is the survival of an old custom. In the “old navy” It used to last fifteen minutes, and was performed with drum and fife, playing all manner of airs und quicksteps according to the fancy or Ingenuity of the drummer and lifer. It is even said to have been handed down from a period of superstition, when they used to make a hullabaloo after dark to drive the devils out of the ship. At the last note of Tattoo the ship’s bell Is struck twice for nine o’clock, and the boatswain’s whistle sounds “Pipe down.” Every man must then turn Into his hammock, whether lie is sleepy or not, for an inspection is made by the master-at-anus to see that all have done so. Then sounds that last, long, mournful call, “Taps." SPARROW AND RHINOCEROS. It is not easy to astonish a sparrow. You can scare them—"often scared as oft return, a pert, voracious kind”—and make them fly away; but that is only because the sparrow has the hump of selfpreservation very prominentlv develope I, and takes a hint as to personal danger with extraordinary promptitude. But though it may remove its small body out of harm’s way for the time being, it is not disconcerted. You can see that by the way in which it immediately goes on with its toilet. Its nerves have not been shaken—that is evident from its obvious self-possession, and the w.iy it scratches its head and makes a note of the fly which went by. It would not commence at once a frivolous altercation with another of its kind if it had been disconcerted. , And really, it is not to be wondered at that the sparrow should be bevond the reach of astonishment. Think of what it sees, nnd sees quite unconcernedly, in the streets of London. Put a tiger into Fleet Street, or a bear at the bank, and the poor beasts would go crazy with terror. A single omnibus would stampede a troop of lions. Yet a sparrow surveys the approaching fire-engine undismayed, and it sits with ! ts back to the street when a runaway van comes thundering death down liudgftte Hill. The small bird’s life is, in fact, so made up of surprises that it regards the astounding as commonplace. So a flr. sitting down in a train, thinks nothing of finding itself- in the next county when it gets up Its whole existence is volcanic and seismic. It cannot Rcttle on a hand without the hand moving. What would a dog think if, on going into a ten-acre field, the field suddenly turned over? But the fly is not put out of countenance by such “phenomena.” It comes back to the hand again. It is the same with the sparrow. It thinks no more of another wonder than the Seven Champions did of an extra dragon in the day’s work. All the same, I have seen a sparrow totallv confounded and all to pieces. It was, I confess, only a young one, with just the promise of a tall, nothing more; and some odds and ends of fluff still clinging between the red feathers. I was looking at the rhinoceros, which was lying

down close to the railings, and a very sleepv rhinoceros it was Except for slight twitches of tbe tail and an occasional fidget of tbe eara, it was quite motionless. And tbe young sparrow bopping about in the enclosure, coming to the beast, bopped on to it. iooklng in the chinks of its skin for charce grains or insects. And it hopped all along its back on to its head (tbe rhinoceros winked j, and along its head on to the little born, and from the little horn on to the big one, (and it blinked), and then off tbe born on to its nose. And then the rhinoceros snorted. The sparrow was a sight to see. Exploded is no word for it. And it sat all in a heap on the coiner of the house, and chirped the roournfulest chirps. “I hadn’t the smallest notion the thing was alive,” it said. “Oh, dear! oh, dear!” and it wouldn’t be pacified for a long time. Its astonishment had been severe and had got “into the system.” I remembered the story of the boy who sat ou the whale's blow-hole. Behemoth had got stranded on the Shetland coast. While the population were admiring it, an urchin climbed on to the bead of the distressful monster, and exultantly seated his graceless person on its forehead. He had but a short time to enjoy bis triumph, and the next instant the whale, filling itself with air, blew guch a blast through its blow-hole that the boy wag blown up into the air and out to sea. So said the veracious chronicler of the day—and I hope it was true, for little bovs should not, under any circumstances, sit on the blow-hole of whales. Nor young sparrow# on the nostrils of a rhinoceros.

RICHEST HEIRESS ON EARTH.

One hundred nnd thirty million dollars la the colossal fortune which Lucientie I’reinellc lllraeh, granddaughter of the late Baron Maurice de Hiraeb de Oereutb, will eventually Inherit. It Will make her the greatest heiress in the world. The most curious fact about this prospective young multi-million heiress is that the legitimacy of her birth is doubtful. The youug woman's mothei was a governess in Baron Hlrscli’s family, aud her father was the Baron's only sou. By some, it is claimed that no marriage ever took place, while friends of the Baron assert that a. secret church service was performed. But, even if tills were so. it does not constitute a legal marriage, according to French law. Though the Baroness de Hlrseh is named in her late husband's testament ns his sole legatee, It is stated upon unquestionably authority tlint, acting tinder private instructions, which the Baron gave her not tunny months before Ills death, she will hold this vast wealth in trust until Luclenne comes of age, when site will (urn ~it over to her without reserve. The private lives and family affnirs of most men whose wealth nnd high position have brought them much Into public notice are generally well-known. But tills was not the case with Baron de Hirsch. Before his death, few |ample except those most closely connected with him knew of the existence of this child, who, though her father was a Hebrew, is now being reared a strict Catholic. Tills is the first authentic account of the personality and history of the young girl. These facts have been gat lin ed by tlie New York Journal largely from people in tlie metropolis —few In number—who knew tlie late Bnron de llirseh intimately, and therefore have more or less knowledge* of Ills family life. Luclenne Premellc Hirsch is fourteen years old. She lives In Brussels, where she Is being educated. The possessoi of great benuty, she gives promise when Nhe teaches maturity of being ns pre-eminent lu good looks ns in fortune. Of medium height and rather slender, she carries herself so gracefully nnd with such dlgulty ns to appear at the first glance to Ik* taller t flt n she really Is, In her features she resembles her mother, who was a Freneliwoman, not of tlie Hebrew race. In her expression nnd the general coutour of her face the likeness to her father, the lnte Baron de Hirsch’s only son, who died some years ago, Is striking. This is especially noticeable about her eyes nnd mouth. Her eyes are large and dark and rather deeply set. They have all the soft blnokner.s, the patience and gentleness which are the characteristics of the Jewish race. Her mouth Is neither small nor large, and the lips but moderately full. Far from Im*lug swarthy, her cheeks seem even pale, their clear delicacy of tint being accentuated by her dark hair. In religion, ns said, she Is being reared a strict Catholic. In the great mansion where she lives a little private chapel lias been fitted up where she receives spiritual instruction each day from a specially appointed priest. No more carefully could she lie brought up. In fact, lu tills respect if she were a Princess of the blood royal. Mile. Htm-h’s guardian and governess is Mine. Untime Monteflore Levy, nee Bischoffsheim, sister of the Baroness de Hirsch. Mme. Levy is one of the wealthiest women In Europe in her own right, and the owner of half the eastles in Belgium. She is a strict and orthodox Hebrew in ’her religious faith, moreover, and how it has come nbout that Luclenne should be brought up in a religion diametrically opposed to that of Judaism is one of the many Interesting things connected with this girl’s parentage nnd history. Baron de Hirsch. as every one knows, was a man of the utmost liberality and toleration in religious matters. So long as a person was honest It muttered little to him whether he were Jew or Christian. Though he did so much for his co-religiouists, he rarely entered a synagogue for worship. As was said bv one of his eulogists, "he carried his temple within him.” When the question of what Lucienne’s religious belief nnd training came up, it was, therefore, but natural that ho should readily accede to the request of her mother, an ardent Catholic, and allow the daughter to continue in that faith. Indeed, as a matter of fact, before the child could have entered the Jewish Church, she must necessarily have abjured all other religions. And so it is that in deference to her late brother-in-law’s wishes, Mine. Levy, though a stanch upholder of Judaism, allows her ward to become a follower of another faith. According to the provisions of Baron de Hirsch’s will $200,000 has been set apart for the maintenance of Luclenne until she reaches her majority. Half of the income of this will go to her guardian or “gouvernante,” who will not be called upon to render any account of tbe same.