Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 18 November 1883 — Page 3

A FADED ROSE.

[Mrs. D. M. Jordon.]

He enst aside tile little flower I wore upon my loving breast, Tin dainty thing whose beauty died

Upon t-tie warm heart that it pressed. II was a slight and trivial thing, But for the light and careless look That grieved my heart, I scarw know why. He *aw not in the laded flower 7

The symbol of a glad hour dead" 1 fell from out his careless hand. Its beauty and Its fragrance fled, And I, with woman's ready thought,

Forecast the time which comes to nil When love should lose its wondrous charm,

And like the faded blossom fall. I raised the dainty, slighted bud And plucked the crimson leaves apart, An then within its secret cell

I found its crushed and broken heart know not when the day will come That some kind band will close my eyes, A ml fold my tired hands to rest, '.'..J '.ride my sorrow from all eye«% Hot who so does the loving deed

Will think, as I did, of the Bower She lived her brief day of delight A ml some one iov*stl her for ail hour.

THIS yV'KKT LOYK OK MINE.

A .l) MAKKKV.

No jewelled l^auty is my love, Vet in her turnest fncR There's such a world of tenderness,

She jif-pds 110 other grace. Her smiles and voice around my life In

IIkIiI

and music twine.

A nd dear, 0I1, very dear to me, Ik this sivect love of mine!

'Hi, Joy! lo know there's one fond heart lients ever true to me 11 «et» mine leaping like a lyre, hi sweetest melody My xotil iipsprl»f?f, a unity!

To lisar her voice divine, A nd flour, 0I1, very dear 10 me, I? ill Is sweet. love of mine.

if ever 1 have sighed for wealllu "fwas all for her, 1 trow And If I win Fame's victor Wreath,

I'll twine It ou her brow. There may be forms more beautiful, And

koiiIs

of Mirnmer shine,

rin i. oiit, nil, none so dear to me .« this street love of mine.

BY

HILDA. I

ISEKTHA M. CLAY, AUTHOR "OOKA Ti-IORNE.".

CHAPTER XI.

Peep iii Lord Bayueham's heart I here lingered a half feeling of regret for Harhara. Nut that lie loved her lie had never cared inure for her than he did at this present time. Her true nobility of character struck him an it Imd not done before. He could not i|uiio forgot her words,—so true, so J'roe from affectation, ao full of love for fiim. While they lingered that day in hiseirs, he did not seek Hilda. liathara Karle was not one who did anything imperfectly. The rest if that diiy -Hie tine 011 which pho had given her lover bis freedom—was spent in her own room, "What it c.»st,, 110 one ever knew, Barbara shut herself up with lit"T sorrow, and spoke not a word el Vt. The morning after, when she (•ame down to breakfast, there was in beauty in her face, the beauty of ealiu, serene resolve the etorm had passed over, and all outward trace of it had disappeared. "Wo are going to Mr. Seaton's today, aunt," she said to Lady Bayneharn. '"You said two o'clock, 1 think. .Arc we lo call for Lady Hutton?" "No," replied the countess, "we are to meet her at the studio. I hope Mi6S liutton's portrait will be a success she liar, an exquisite face and, Barbara, remind me that we have to call at Storr it Mortimer's to see about the resetting of the diamonds. The Baynebam diamonds are considered amongst the finest in England you must wear them on your wedding day." "Barbara smiled, and had Lady BaynehAm watched her attentively she would lrave seen the flrmlipsquiveras they smiled. Claude rose hastily his face flushed deepiy. The countess, serenely unconscious, continued her remarks.

V1should

like to have your portrait,

Barbara. Mr. Seaton is one of the first of living artists we will speak to him about it to-day. We shall be side liv side then in the great gallery.

Barbara made no reply. She wat thinking of the fair young face thas would be next to that of the stately lady before her, while she, Barbara Karle, would never be portrayed as one of that race. Claude walked uneasily up and down the room, longing to make an end of the painful scene, but not knowing how. At last to his intense delight, Lady Bayneham rose and quitted the room, still serenely unconscious of all wrong. "'This is intolerable," he cried "Barbara, I cannot forgive myself for allowing you to go through such a scene. My mother must bo told at once

Barbara raised her clear dark eyes to his tact', and though the warm tears shone brightly in them, she smiled, and said oravely, "It could not be helped do not be vexed, Claude. I was wondering if diamonds looked well with golden hair. And, that minds uie that time is precious, a cousin's advice, and see Miss ton to-day. We may still

re-

Take Hut-

call at

.^torr Mortimer's, you know." "But, Barbara," said Claude gently, 1 think inofe of you than you do of yourself. I cannot bear to think of love or happiness while you are-—" Ho stopped abruptly, not knowing inite what to say. "While I am unhappy, you mean, I suppose,'' said Barbara, half haughtily, yet with a smile of amusement. "How '•andid you are, Claude. Never fear for e. The past is all dead its ghost will never haunt me. With all my heart I intend to help you and when ymi marry Miss Hutton I shall stand i»y her side, for two reasons. One is, that the sight of your happiness will more than repay me for any pain I may suffer and the second is that no one shall say Barbara Earle fled like a love-sick schoolgirl. No one shall ever know the truth of this affair but you md I, Claude." "Tne truth is," said her cousin with :i smile, "that you have dismissed me.

Your reasons for so doing concerns no one but yourself." "1 will speak to my aunt," said Barbara, "she will take "it better from me than from you. And, now, Claude, go. I can see impatience in every line of your face. I venture to predict, if you call you will find Miss Hutton at homo."

For once Barbara was wrong. When Lord Bayneham reached Lady Hutton's. he found both ladies absent, and was obliged to wait until two o'clock, when he intended to be at Mr. SeaIon's. Nor was Barbara more fortunate. She made several efforts to obtain an iuterview with the countess, but on tliat particular morning her ladyship was unusuallv engaged, and when thev left home Lady Bayneham was still in happv ignorance. Barbara knew her aunt too well to attempt any commu meat ion of that kind in an open carriage. She knew what the storm of anger would be.

"1 should be better satisfied," said Mr. Seaton, as the group of ladies stood round his easel, "if Miss Hutton had the same bloom upon her face that she had when I first saw her. She looks pale—something like a drooping flower. Late hours and much dancing ao ii"i improve our fair and fashionable 1:. lies.

Hutton looked anxiously at "rd then for the first time she how changed was the fair young

Li­

ber llOtt'•! face abon B'.ng. from take')

There could be no mistake it. Hilda might laugh and tint that look could only come sorrow—sorrow, too, that had !eep root. What could it be?

Sur the child could not have fallen in I«»vt«— she, bo innocent, so fresh and the world, so

pure, to untouched by ntteiiv unconscious of all passion Yet nothing but love could have Molen the bloom from that lovely fare, a id yet have I-'ft greater beauty in its 1 "e. When Mr. ^caton spoke dee ij sh covered Hilda's fs e, an i,er 11. "Tli tcuis-u* a little color is easily

PC i.Js*ld Barbara, with

"Art can do something where nature fails there are plenty of bloomuig roses in that color-box, Mr. Seaton.

Lady Bayneham was buaily engaged in critizing Lady Diana Forecler's portrait. "I call that a perfect work of art, Mr. Seaton," said her ladyship, graciously "without flattering Lady Diana, you have brought out the chief beauties of her face. I should like my niece, Miss Earle, to have her portrait taken exactly in this style—it would SHit her." "Miss Earle's face is one of the few I should fear to Undertake," said Mr. Seaton. "Why?" asked Lady Bayneham, in surprise. "Because," replied the artist^ its beauty liee in the soul that shines through it. How can I reproduce that faithfully on canvas? It would not be a mere portrait: it would be what you have kindly called this, a work of art." "Then a work of art let it be," said Lady Bayneham, looking up with wonder at the artist's enthusiasm. "We have some magnificent portraits ^at Bayneham Castle, and this one '•My dear aunt," interrupted Barbara, fearing the coming allusion, "have you seen this beautiful sketch?'

While the ladies examined a wondrously executed sketch of a contemplated" picture, Claude drew near to Hilda. Before he spoke to her he noted the flush that rose to her fair young fate. "Shall you have patience lo sit still he asked, with a smile "Mr. Seaton iB very particular, I hear." "I have plentv of patience, said Hilda. "If it pleases Lady Hutton to have my picture, I shall have a motive for my patience. One can do anything with a motive, you know."

She spoke hastily, as though anxious to say something, yet not feeling sure that she was on safe ground. "I heard an amusing story of Mies Deverney, the Welsh heiress," continued Claude. "She declared she had never learned the multiplication table at school so she studied it while sitting to Mr. Seaton." "I should not like that' said Hilda. "When I have nothing to do I dream of Brynmar and you," she might have added, for he read it in her face. "So do I," he replied and the newring of music in his voice made her look up quickly at him. "Hilda," ho said, gently, "may I call and see you now?' Then he lowered his voice, and in a passionate whisper added, "Bay yes, my darling, for I am not to marry Barbara Earle.

With a heart beating high with triumph he noted the sudden and beautiful flush that lighted the young tender face, the light that shone in the clear, pure eyes, the trembling lip that could find no answer for him. He could say iio more. Hilda understood all those few words implied.

May I call this evening?" he asked gently but the "red

Although Lady Bayneham longed for an explanation, she was too well bred to repeat her question. Barbara face had grown strangely pale, and the countess gazed at her with surprise. They were not long in reaching Grosvenor square. "Come with me to my room, Barbara," said her aunt. "Let me hear what this mystery means."

Mies Karle followed Lady Bayneham quietlv enough to her room. She closed" the door with her own hands, nd stood before it. ,t

Few words are always best, aunt, she said, with a feeble attempt at smiling. "I did not go to choose a setting for the Bayneham diamonds, because I am not going to many Claude." "Not marry Claude!" gasped the countess. "Have you lost your senses, Barbara?" "No,—I have merely found them, said the young girl, sadly. "Do not be angrv, aunt. If Claude knelt here asking me for a year and a day, 1 should still refuse.' "May I ask," said Lady Bavneliam, haughtily, "why Miss Earle declines an alliance with my son?" 'No, aunt," replied Barbara, proudly, "that is the one question you may not ask. I decline to answer it.'

Have you seen some one you liked better?" interrupted Lady Bayneham. Yet I need not ask. You are not a weak, vain girl, who thinks little ot her plighted word."

Then Lady Bayneham's voice softened, and she throw one arm caressingly round her niece. "Do

you fear Claude does not love

you?" she asked. "Believe me, Barbara "Aunt," interrupted her niece, "do not seek to know my motives our enement was a great mistake. Let us thanful for having discovered it in time. Believe me, dear aunt," she continued, earnestly, "if I married your son now, we should be wretched for life." "But Barbara," cried Lady Bayneham, "why did you not discover this before?" ,, "I am perhaps to blame for that, she replied, gently, a sharp quiver of pain passing her face. "I have found it out now.'7 "What will the world say?" cried countess. Every arrangement made, even to the ordering of your jewels'." "They may even yet be worn," said Barbara, with a smile. "Barbara," said Lady Bayneham, "are you jealous?" "No," was the reply. "Try to believe me, dear aunt. I am thoroughly in earnest. Our engagement was a terrible mistake. I have found it out, and refuse to fulfill it. Your son is free. I have told him so, and nothing can change or alter my decisionit is made for life. My greatest grief is the sorrow I know it will cause you."

For once, Lady Bayneham had nothing to say she was too angry for speech, too bewildered for remonstrance too much annoyed to care for further conversation. "You can leave me now, Barbara," said the countess, haughtily. "I can have no respect for any one who deliberately breaks a promise and draws down ridicule upon those who love her best. Have you considered in what a cruel position your conduct places Claude?" "He will be strong enough to hear it," replied Barbara, dryly. "I have not remarked any change in his looks or his spirits have you, annt?"

Considering that Lady Bayneham had said that morning, in Barbara's presence, that her son had never looked I letter, she could make no reply. "Let us be friends, ann^ saidBarba-

ra, gently, and there was a wistful tone in her voice. "Let us be friends, dear aunt. I have no one in the world but vou."

Lady Bayneham was, however, too ,r..rrV 'fn ki-y ill v. "I can but hope ,\ mj- K•.I that yon will mii iHiim'to w''• tenses," she said,

a Will

you

'MW. W^hx^m

n*S

ripe

lips" never

moved in reply. Mr. Seaton gazed at the changed face in wonder. The half sad look, the pallor, and the dim eyes, had disappeared as if by msgic. It was a beautiful, radiant girl upon whom he gazed, whose features glowed with happiness. The artist knew something of the world and its ways, and he gave a shrewd, quick glance at Lord Bayneham then, for him the mystery was solved. "When all details of time, costume, etc., were arranged, Lady Hilton and Hilda drove away. Lord Bayneham would not accept his mother's invitation to drive with her he wanted to be alone with his newly found happiness.

Barbara Earle took her seat by Lady Bayneham's side, knowing the time for the real struggle had come at last. "We will go at once to Storr & Mortimer's," said the countess to her niece "it will take some time to choose the settings." "Aunt," said Barbara, "do not go there. I might say I was too tired', or give other excuses—all would he equally false. Do not go there todayr&nd profnise not to ask me the the reason until we reach home." "What can you mean, Barbara?" asked her aunt, haughtily. "Have you some plan, some design of your own for the diamonds? You should have mentioned it before, my dear." "I have no plan of my own," she replied, wearily. "I will explain when we reach home."

b# kind wougfc ve

now the dreseing-bell has rung. I presume you did not hear it." That was all thie consolation Barbara Earle received in the greatest trouble of her life.

t,-j?

In some vague, indistinct way, Hilda knew what was coming. Her simple, loving heart fluttered and beat so quickly that she could hardly breathe. She did not even follow every word be said, but when he ceased speaking, it was as though some exquisite strain of music ceased. Yet she would have deferred it if she could, the speaking of those words that were to open a new life to her. She longed to hear them, yet felt frightened at them. "Hilda, whispered the low voice at her side, "do forget those lilies for one moment, and look at me. Can you guess what I have to Bay?"

The shy, sweet eye6 did not meet his own the little hands still trembled amidst the white blossoms. "I am jealous of those flowers," said Claude, impatiently, as he removed them. "I want all your attention for once, and for a few minutes. Hilda, do you remember that May morning in Brynmar woods?" "I remember it well," replied a faint half-frightened voice. "Doyou know," said Claude eagerly, "I loved you then? It was the fairest, sweetest picture my eyes ever fell upon, as you stood in the woods, writh the bluebells in your hand. I could hardly tear myself away. I loneed there and then to kneel at your feet and offer you, as I do now, my life and my love. I have never thought of anything or any one since I saw you. Until found you again my life was one long dream of misery, Hilda. There never was a love so strong, so deep, so true as mine. Is there any hope for, me?"

There were a few minutes of 11 ubroken silence, then, a gentle, half sad voice replied, "How could you care for me when you were pledged to marry Mies Earle?"

He told her the whole story, how from childhood they had been trained to understand that at some future time thev were to be married—how he al-

ways

had arrived, he had "no objection." With

ately loving you, yet pledged to marry Barbara Earle. I was half mad for some time, but, I had no idea of freeing myself. I thought I must bear my fate. But, Hilda, Barbara has dismissed me she says our engagement was a foolish mistake, for which I shall not suffer. She refuses even to mention, it again, and I am free—free to lay my heart at the feet of the only one I can ever love. Have you no word for me, Hilda?" "Is she—is Barbara unhappy she asked, gentlv. "Do not let that shadow stand between us," cried Lord Bayneham. "Hilda, if I was to pray as man has never prayed before, Miss Earle would not deign to listen to me. Oh, Hilda, can it be that I am mistaken?—that you do not care for me?"

She turned her face lo him, and he read his answer there. While the fair flowers bloomed around them, sending a thousand sweet and fragrant messages, he told her that same sweet old story that the world has heard so long, and never the same story of love, wearied of —vuc

«uj=

ashsrss

You will be happy at Bayneham, he continued. "My mother is sure to love you very dearly, Hilda,—she loves me so much. I have won my treasure now, and I am impatient to call it mine. When shall 1 see Lady Hutton? Before the spring blossoms come again, promise to be my wife, darling.

But that Hilda would not do. In her gentle, child-like heart there was a gracious dignity—all her own. He had won enough she would promise no more. He loved her but the more for the pretty coy words that fell so softly from her lips. "I shall come to see Lady Hutton to-morrow," he said, half inquiringly. "Not to-morrow," she replied, "mamma will be busy with the agent. Let me have that one day to realize my happiness and to dream." "It shall be so," replied Claude.

In after years Hilda wondered what her fate would have been if he had seen Lady Hutton as he wished. "Now, before I go," Baid Lord Bayneham, "grant me one favor. You gave me a bluebell that May morning give me now one of those white lillies. I shall know then in the morniug that my happiness is real, not a dream."

She gave him what he asked, and the time came when those two withered flowers were more precious to the young earl than all the world besides. As he was leaving the house he heard a bell ring violently, and half wondered who it conld be ringing in such hot haste. ...

"Tell Lord Bayneham, as soon as he returns, that I wish to see him particularly-. I shall be in my own room."

So said Lady Bayneham. in her cold* ftit voies, intA&dM tor Barbara's

fit. She had not vouchsafed one word to the young girl heraelf, choosing to consider her in a state of rebellion.

Claude's face did not express any rapturous delight when the obedient domestic delivered her ladyship

chapter xn message. He loved his mother dearly chapter xn. he had the deepest respect and admiraThat evening fate was kind to Hilda

tion for her

Hutton. The agent from Brynmar came grace and dignity,-^-she was his cornover purposely to consult with Lady plete ideal of a British peeress but, if Hutton to some alterations making at the hall. So it happened that when jje nothing upon earth no Lord Bayneham called in Park Gar- danger ever awed him, no fear ever dens, he was told that Lady Hutton daunted him but he ,couM not face was engaged, but that Miss Hutton was in the drawing room. "I will see her," he said, trying to look as though she were a substitute for Lady Hutton, and signally failing in the attempt.

liked Barbara in a calm, kind ig*e«^ wg-rfM brotherly way, and when his mother you have thought better of it, come to suseested the time for the marriage

uie

beauty and talents, her

his lady mother when he had offended or displeased her. "One more battle," he mnttered to himself, "then all will be plain sailing." But Lady Bayneham's greeting astonished him. "My dear-boy," she cried, "my poor Claude,—what does all this mean "All what, mother he asked, briefly. "Barbara's strange conduct," she replied. "She tells, me she has given you your freedom. I asked no questions from her—I felt too angry. Tell me^

When the drawing room doors were opened, there was no one to be seen but Claude's quick eye discerned the floating of a white dress in the dim angry light of the conservatory, and instinct have you accepted it?" told him to seek his love there. He "I have," said Lord Bayneham, and

lost, as an artist might have been, in delighted admiration at so fair a picture. The golden head and fair young face shone brightly in the dim mellow light. Thefe was a dreamy smile on the sweet lips, as though pleasant dreams were with her. She was bending over some choice^ white lilies, and they were not so fair and pure as she, thought Claude. She did not look surprised when he uttered her name, and the smile deepened, as though the pleasant dream had come true. "Mamma is engaged," she said in reply to Lord Bayneham's few words. "The agent is "here from Brynmar. See, Lord Bayneham, he brought me these lilies himself all the way.' "It was very kind of him," said Claude "I am not sorry Lady Hutton is engaged, for 1 came purposely to see you."

vui

cu8°6vlwu

She is a noble girl, and I love her as though she were my own siBter but I can never care more for her than 1 do now."

Lady Bayneham face grew white with anger. "It seems I am utterly ignored in the matter," she said, bitterly. "Not ignored, mother,' replied Claude, gaily "but you see, as the matter rested with Barbara and myself, we settled our own affairs." "I never admire flippancy," was the haughty reply "ft is not in good taste from yon to me, Claude." "I beg your pardon, mother," he replied, earnestly. "I only meant to say it was a matter that concerns ourselves alone." "Tell me one thing, cried Lady Bayneham—"has Barbara dismissed yon or have you ceased to love her "Barbara dismissed me," he replied, with a strange smile. "Then she is a f"lse, faithless gsrJ, and must be brought to reason,' said the countess, indignantly. "Hush, mother! said the earl. "Site is the noblest and truest of women. She dismissed me because she saw that I had learned to love some one else truly and dearly. She would r.ot stand between me and happiness. I should never have named my love I should have married Barbara, and endured my life as I could. But Bhe saw it, and set me free." "It iB just as I expected," was her ladyship's indignant comment—"'a set of ridiculous sentimental ideas. S© you, my lord, have broken your faith, if not your word, with the 'noblest of women!' You fly in the very face of society you set the world and all its laws at defiance—and for what? —for the love of some fair, foolish face, or, perhaps, worse, I cannot tell." "Be just, mother," said Lord Bayneham. "I have done all you say for love of the sweetest, loveliest and purest girl the world eversaw." "Favor me with the name of your new love,"said the countess, contemptuously. "I have no wish to hear any absurd rhapsodies." "The girl I love, and have asked to be my wife, is Hilda Hutton, Lady Hutton's ward," he replied. "I beg you, mother, to say what you will of me, but spare her. I love her, and she will be my wife." "Never with my consent," exclaimed the countess. "I forbid any such folly. I insist upon your returning to your allegiance—to Barbara, and forgetting this fair, foolish "Hush," said Lord Bayneham, his face growing dark and stern,—"not one word against her. There are limits to a man's patience, mother." "And to his courtesy, it seems," retorted the lady. "I refuse to hear one word more. If I could believe you serious, Claude, my sorrow would be ao

..

a

"I had not seen you then, Hilda," thus dismissed her son. he continued. "When I did so, my [To be continued in the Sunday Express.] heart awoke suddenly. I was like a man who had been buried in a deep sleep. I woke to find myself passion

der

haughty gesture the countess

liast Snakes of the Season. Charles Doroney, of Henry county, Georgia, killed thirty-one vipers within a radious of thirty feet.

E. H. Ezell, of Houston county, Georgia, killed in a single week, in bis dooryard, seventeen rattlesnakes.

While hunting for squirrels R. T. Penny, of Drayton, Ga., shot, a rattlesnake six feet long and having thirteen rattles.

A rattlesnake having thirteen rattles and seven feet five inches long was recently killed on an island in Lake Winnipiscogee.

Sidney G. Gibson, of Valley Grove Church, Ga., while picking cotton, killed a rattlesnake five feet in length, furnished with twelve rattleB.

M. T. Brosher, a wood-chopper, of Logan county, Kentucky, was struck from behind by a rattle-snake. He ran 200 vards, but "the snake stuck fast to him" its fangs having penetrated his boot leg, He then plucked up coinage and killed it.

George Logan, a farmer near Lebanon, Ohio, turned up fourteen curious eggs while plowing and put them under a setting hen. Then he went to his return was the hen had hatched out fourteen little snakes.

a

setting nen.

and youth, and hope of love that was campmeeting, and on to be eternal, all enduring, stronger

than death. The words rang to the same familiar, ever-beautiful chime. Their music was new to the young girl, who listened, and thought she must be in fairyland. "I do not think, Hilda," he said his voice trembled with eagerness— "that I could bear my life without you. I could endure all things with

ama£ed to fiml tha

More than 3,000 snakes were killed within a mile of Falls City, Neb., during the June overflow. They were driven by the water from the bottom lands, and swarmed upon the embankments thrown up for railways. They were chiefly garter snakes, water moc

Th« toTmie Sn Lord Bavne- rouoded by a wire fencs in the over-

,'nThon^s

every life, perfect in its love and hap- evidently taken refuge. piness, without cloud, shade, or fear /I i.A fi 11

/I A itioIIAW

it came to them and when the mellow light of the conservatory grew dim, and the fragrant blossoms shone but faintly in the evening gloaming. Hilda had promised to be Lord Bayneham w^e- ,. "Your life shall be just as bright as the life of one of these flowers." said Claude "no shadow, no storm shall come near you. I shall have but one care, and that will be your happiness and in return for all my devotion, will you give me »little love, Hilda?" "A little," she said, wondering if he knew how much that meant.

srsffitt ss

An Unfortunate French Brigand. St. James's Gazette. Passengers by the Northern railway of France will hear without regret that the species of hrigand who, on thatline at least, had succeeded in adding a new terror to railway traveling has been sentenced to penal servitude for life. Cauchois had long been accustomed, when he was in want of money (which frequently happened), to take a first-class ticket to some distant point on the Chemin de Fer du Nord, with the view of profiting by such opportunities as might present themselves in the shape of luggage lying loose at stations or purses imperfectly guarded by his fellow travelers. An attempt at murder was his last performance in this style and if Mr. Whidborne, the object of his attack, had been less resolute and less strong, the attempt would certainly have been attended with success. Cauchois had a wife and family to support. He had also bills to meet

in fact a desperate one. Mr. hid-

borne, who is. a clergyman, begged that his assailant might be let off with a light punishment, and the counsel for the defense turned to good account the merciful intervention of the intended victim. It was perhaps on account of this speech that the jury found one of the most atrocious criminals of recent times "guilty with extenuating circumstances." AVas there extenuation in the "circumstance" that the robber and would-be mar derer had a bill to take up?

Washington's Grand-Niece.

THE TERRE HAUTE EXPRESS, SUNDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 18, 1888.

READS liIKE A ROMANCE.

The Story of tha Count 8ala*-8aim—Ho Falls in Lotc with FloboUw, Flghta Dad, and la Dlaiahorltod by Hla

Princely Father—H« la iMahmrtoaed na a Laborer, and la Forgiven. t, Chicago Herald.

Just about one year ago Alfred, Count Salm-Salm, lived in the city of Bonn and was a student of its famous university, being matriculated in its law department. He was a handsome yoong man, nineteen years of age, with unlimited resources at his command, with the fire of youth in his veins, the attractiveness of true noHttse in bis manners, and the abandon of a German student in his habits. His father, Prince Frederick Salm-Salm. is one of the highest and wealthiest nobles of the German empire, a general a la suite in the army, and the titular chief ot the aristocracy of Rhenish Prussia, or what is familiarly and lovingly known by its people as "Rhineland." Prince Salm-Salm, who was a colonel on the staff of General McClellan during our late war, and at its close entered the service of Maximilian, in Mexico, as adjutant general, and fell in the service of' Emperor William at the battle of Gravelottein the Franco-Ger-man war, was a relative of Count A1fred.

As has lieen said, Count Alfred had the characteristics of a student with noble blood to boast of, and money at will to command. He was a favorite in society and he fell in love with a beautiful young

lady

in his admiration of her. She was also loved by another student, and the ridry between them .became so warm and personal that a duel was the consequence.

The Princo, his father, heard of the affair. He could forgive him for squandering inoaey, but he could not forgive him for giving his affections to one so far beneath him in social standing. He forbade all further relations between them. The son persisted in his devotion whereupon the father jublicly announced that he would no onger be responsible for any of the debts of his said son. Count Alfred for a time was overcome, but

tor a urne wa» uveiwmc,

At Bonn, when Count Alfred was a student there, there lived also a young man, who was a private in the same squadron of the King's Hussars, garrisoned at Bonn, one of the most noted and honorable commands of the German army, in which the young student was also serving his term of "one year's volunteer." About the time that the Count landed in this country his humble companion-in-arms, Carl Schneider by name, also arrived, and in due time came to Chicago. Some weeks ago they met, both as laborers, on the track of the Illinois Central railroad. The private in the Hussars thought he knew the count somewhere, and asked him his name. "Frederick Eeinbardt is my name," said the count. The questioner doubted and pondered, and suddenly it flashed upon his mind that the sun-rough-handed, poorly-clad railroad laborer was nonfe other than Count Salm Salm. He told him so, and the count admitted it, but with the injunction that he should not reveal his identity.

He did inform him, however, and without delay wrote to the father of the discovery of his son, and his circumstances. Immediately a trusted messenger—an inspector on the estates, Mr. Von Maltzahn—was dispatched from Germany by the prince, who arrived here a few dayB ago. The young count was found, the father's forgiveness tendered, his anxiety expressed, and the consent of the count obtained to return home immediately. With his old clothes of a railroad laborer lie threw off the name of Frederick Reinhardt, and with a new suit purchased on Clark street he again assumed his hereditary title of Alfred, Count SalmSalm. He, with his friend from the home of his youth, left Saturday for New York, and from there to-day will soon depart for his ancestral castle and home in loved and fondly missed Rhineland. His residence in this city was on Larrabee street.

The young nobleman, though he had gone through the rough school of adversity and had paid for his youthful infatuation dearly enough, still has remained true to his love in Bonn. He did not consent to return home until the most binding assurances had been given him on the part of his father's plenipotentiary that, nothing should now stand in the way of his union with the young lady. Though this has been arranged, it yet necessitates a grave sacrifice on his part. By the manorial laws of his family, the right of primogeniture is forfeited by a mesalliance, and not even the princely father can change this, so that Count Alfred foregoes the inheritance to all the vast estates of his father, the annual income of which falls little short of $800,000, and to which he otherwise, as the first-born, would be

as his betrothed, who is the daughter of one of the wealthiest citizens of Bonn, brings him also a large dot on his wedding day. *'r

How Uncle Tom's Cabin was Pub lished Chicago Tribune.

"Prof. Stowe

was in favor of selling

able to Tnlorm and Mrs.

Stowe that their percentage already amounted to $10,000, and, although my contract with them required me to give a note only, I would pay them that sum in cash." "How did they receive that information?" "They seemed a litle dazed by the news. The sum was so vastly beyond anything they expected or bad hitherto possessed, that it appeared to them like a great fortune. When they called at my office I handed Prof. Stowe my

„T check for $l0,000, payable to his order. Margaret Washington is George

Neilher

Washington's great-grand niece, and, had ever before received a check, they "excepting a cousin of hers, who keeps told me, and they did not know what op*, old ..^puce denonth. fSSiSStoSK east shore of Virginia, she has more of he must indorse the check the Washington blood in her veins

and

than any other American. 8he keeps him to deposit the money in the same a boMdfing house hotel in the capita.. —.. years old, she is active and alert. Her professor opened features have a strong resemblance to strutting him how to keep_ his check those of Washington. She is deep in j'book and so on, and cautioning him every charitable worts ia the city, and and his wife never to go about with ft SMUtagw {or a boni for old 1mw nor* ttei) 99 to pook*t«f I

professor nor Mrs. Stowe

present it for payment. I advised

them good-day, and they went their way rejoicing. When I gave them a

.$. PECULIAR PEOPLE,

Tha Poor White Traah who Inhabit tha Mountain! of Tanhaaaaa. Correspondenee Philadelphia Press.

J:

same dialect and_ low grade of civilization. People of the same sort are found in various parts of Maryland, Virginia, the two Carolinas and 'Georgia. In all these regions they hold a social grade below that of the negroes. Their origin is

of tlio city of nfce'r'y. No one kno«

was of plebeian Jiristo The men of these mountain slopes his^heart andIsonl^.above^all tbeansto

SESUSS. °BS'b,°w»d.?tTo" 1»K. trtd-l I.™

u.,the

buoyancy of youth and the spirit of jerj

oair.rAlinnra natural to turn told him

self-reliance natural to him told him how to act. He resolved to leave hia university, his home and relatives and fatherland, and come to America. About eleven months ago he landed in New York, and soon thereafter made his way to CLicago, where until yesterday, he has resided.

After the departure of the son the father became penitent, and time having elapsed without any tidings of or word from him, the prince, through detectives and the press, oflered a large stain of money for news concerning him. But none came, and so he was given up for dead.

and waik

THE HOWARDS.

The Lit tle Blind Heir to All Their Titles and Estates. Cork (Ireland) Examiner.

the person

Edward

«nd sold and who died on the field with his betrayed king that 6ame da)'. Eighteen in succesion from that "Jocky" is the present duke of Norfolk, Henry Fitzalan Howard, the pre

THhnnn mier duke "and hereditary earl-marshal

John j/jeweil, tb.oriirinal publisher SSffi'SSS of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," said:

his religion

0f

the manuscript for a sum down. Til beth's time /orbisdevotiontoRo^ in «int Rhp and incidentally, to that most bewitcn tell my wife,'said he to me, that it sbe

q{

can get a good black silk dress or $60 ggo^g. The Howards have kept the in money for the storv she had better faith ever since through good and evil take it"' report The present duke wedded

"Do you belie vV'tbat" you could have tamouTc^nnt^sof London and of

bought the story for *60?' "I believe I could have bought it for $25, "So large' were the orders for the

book that from the day I first began to

support. He a.M biU.SSSSiLSt^StSA& his position, like his character, being

lai'nta that the voiume did

faBten0UKh

another ancient English family which draws its very name from the battlefield that gave Britain to the Normormans. Their single son, Phillip Mary Joseph, earl of Arundel and Sur-

tliA o4/\vif fnr 4fiD?" il .!l^nrtliaVi familv

reyj wa8

print it the eight presses never stop- something infinitely touching in the

I

with

lazy, do-nothing and care-for-no'hing air in both speech and movement. Most of them go barefooted—at least in the summer months—and wear very tight-fitting linsey-woolsey trousers, dyed brown with the bark of the walnut. They have no suspenders, and very few of them wear coats of any kind. Their shirts are made of a coarse cotton material, and are generally so dirty that it is impossible to tell the original color. Most of them wear Blouched wool hats that look as if they had seen many years of hard service, some few having home-made hats of plaited rye straw. Almost the road had

every man seen on the road had a

long, rustic-looking rifle on his shoul-

ftn ex-l)orn

cow.ekin

powder-flask and a

sliot-pouch swung around

his neck. The women are in keeping with the men. Their dress is made of the same material, only a shade lighter in color. There is no fit about the waists of their garments and their skirts are most economically narrow, and never so long as to suggest the idea of a trail consequently their large, wide-spread-ing "bare feet are exposed at every step. They wear a kind of sunbonnet of the same material as their dress, shapeless, limp and flapping around their brown and sallow faces.

The young girls are so dirty that, if they have any personal beauty, it is covered. In early life the teeth are discolored and decayed, caused doubtless by their constant use of tobacco. Men, women and children all chew the weed incessantly, and also smoke and use snuff. Spitting with these people is not only a habit, it is a pasttime. By long practice they have acquired a surprising skill in emitting tobacco juice from between their teeth, sending it with a peculiar hissing sound to a distance of nine or ten feet, always aiming at some object directly in front of them, and seldom failing to hit it. They can spit at long range with the same precision and certainty with which they shoot, being as sure to hit the mark at ten feet with tobacco juice as they are to bring down the squirrel from the top of the tallest tree with their unerring rifle. The two highest accomplishments with the men are to be able to sittot and toapit well, and men and women both actually hold spitting matches.

SHAVE KATE SHEIiIJEY.

WAV rcjuiuii|{» TW iiou MAVUA second check lor $10900091 found they H«r ^mUou Jamrmmr t» Howling needed no further instructions." Stoim, and tha Be ward Ska la to Have

needed no farther-instructions.' "How many copies of 'tJncle Tom* did yon publish?" "More than 320,000 sets of two volumes each were published in the first year. After that the demand fell off."

Stoim, nd the Be ward Ski Is to H»t« 'tor It Boone, Iowa, Special.

N«t week, when the committee of reek, when the committee oi t™*1

M1.

the Iowa legislature will formally pre-

voiea ner uy uim uuuj ju

—J living on Jhe same velocity 6f the wind that houses, i, lumber, and all portable objects

Hastily filling and lighting an old lantern and wrapping herself in a waterproof, she sallied out in the storm. She first made an effort to reach the water's edge, but findingthat the flood was already far above all the paths and roadways, and realizing that she could do nothing in or near thnt mad torrent, she climbed painfully up the steep bluff to the track, tearing her clothing to rags on thick undergrowth and lacerating the flesh most painfully. A part of the bridge still remained, and, crawling out on this to the last tie, she swung her lantern over the abyss ana called out at the top of her voice. It was pitchy dark below, but she was answered faintly by the engineer, who had crawled np on some of the broken timbers, and, though injured, was safe for the time being. From him the girl learned that it was a freight train that had gone into the chasm, and that he alone of the train hands had escaped. He urged her, however, to proceed at once to the nearest station to securo help for him and to warn the

6

outlines of the bridge and the seathing waters beneath. Knowing that she had no time to lose, the brave girl threw away the useless lamp, and, dropping on her hands and knees, crawled from tie to tie across the high trestle. Having gained the ground again, sbe ran the short distance remaining to the station, told her story in breathless haste, and fell unconscious at the feet of the gaping rustics, who, in their eagerness to know her adventures, forgot the terror and suspense which she had endured.

The little earl of Arundel is to be carried now to the shrine of Caravaggio, where prayers for the recovery of bis sight are to be oflered. We know of nothing at once more pitiful and more interesting than the case of this little 4-year-old heir of all the titles, estates and lame of the great Howard family. Its chief title is from that rough diamond, Roger Bigod, earl of bridge. Norfolk, who, when choleric Edward 1., urging him to a distasteful adventure, cried, "Sir Earl, you shall either go or hang!" stoutly retorted: 'Sir, King, I will neither go nor hang!" and forthwith raised him an army of revolt so imposing that the king sought a reconciliation. In reality the Bigodfi had lost the title and were all nigh forgotten when the dukedom of Norfolk and its hereditary earl marshalship passed over to the Mow marsnaisnip passea over io me brays, and thence became centred committee was appointed to present it

Men were then sent to the rescue of the engineer, and telegrams were flying up and down the line notifying officials and others of the loss of the

of a young woman, together to her. Her lieroMin ™ade the with the estates and titles of the Fit/.- theme of many eloquent speeches. Alans, earls of Arundel, early in the .imm fifteenth century. This girl, the heiress About Bears. and sole representative of two great Correspondence of the Portland Oregon

ilSM Tofkd,Ur.!%!rK'rtfHo"5 In oarly time, on the Pacific .lope ard, the head of a family of lawyers adventures with the grizzly bear were who had more wealth than blood. It

was the son of his marriage, John

Howard, who rode in high favor with

»botaVd~ti«e-H'n« which Sbat:

who

foam* those linesi which Shak-

and must be entailed on him out of ®Peare tairAhle marks of havinshad a dreadthe funded capital of the family, and,

The express train came thun

dering in and was stopped, and the passengers, learning the story of the child-hero, looked, a few at a time, upon ber wan face and ragged clothes. The purse that was made up for her was of a very substantial kind.

When the story of her behavior spread throughout the state several funds for her benefit were started, and, so far as money can pay for such devotion, she has been well rewarded for her night's work. At the session of the legislature last winter it was ordered that a medal commemorative of the girl's bravery be struck, and a

very COmnion,and

rfte theme

IV., was given both duke- from end to end. But many true ones

not worry dom and marshalship by Richard III., were never penned. There were 3 sum will

asua^y

born blind. There had been

not ap- tion. The poor little boy iw bcen

In a little while I blessed in pereon by the pope, he has

BUf I

special invocations on his behalf have been enjoined more than once from the Vatican upon the cbarcbes of Europe.

The Romance of a Rag.

Washington Post. A rug, stolen from Mrs. Thorne, living at Third street and Missouri avenue, about two years ago, strangely came into her possession again yester day. As she was passing a store on Louisiana avenue, near Seventh street, Thursday, where there was an auction, she saw her rug among the articles for sale, and immediately claimed her property. Her claim being questioned, it was sent to police headquarters, where it was recognized bv the property clerk as having been in his possession for more than a year, as stolen property, and wassold, at the annual sale of abandoned goods last summer, to a second-hand dealer in Georgetown,-wliq sent it to be solq pi thilMMtiOB*

it was always a la-

around a camp-fire. No

vullkC 1

the York kings, was made a counsellor doubt many of these stones were lies would be by

{ejlow|s who

door on'the^morn of"iJosworth's fight: takable marks of havinghad a dreadJock of Norfolk, be not so bold, ful encounter with a grizzly bear. For Dickon, thy master, is bought TheBe stories naturally created ade sire, especially among those who love the excitement of the chase, to have a skirmish with a grizzly. But the first sight of one of these monBters usually produces a kind of paralysis, a

camed annus-

produces a kind oi paralysis, a

he is historic, for another around a camp fire, and the first desire

his ancestors lost his head in ^Eliza- experienced is personal safety, and,

daughters, Mary of

suiting the action to the desire, a place of safety isgenerally sought in a hurry. Grizzly bears are not yet ranked among an extinct race of animals, for they are frequently found in the Selkirk mountains and still further south. Tbey are the genuine stock, too, weighing from 1,000 to 2,000 pounds, and have all the native ferocity of those formerly found in southern Oregon and California. There are several other varieties of the bear family found—the cinnamon, brown, and black bear. Their tracks are fre-

Sle

uently seen in the sand and mud on banks of the rivers and creeks where they go to catch salmon. The Indians say that they have killed three grizzly bears this season—two very large ones. We must not always reckon on the size of tha track. The black bear, the smallest of the family, make sometimes the largest track. He is very loose-joint*, d, his paws spread out, and he leaves an impression on the sand and mud veiy large for the size of his body. The nimbleness of his joints permits liim to handle his lege, particularly his fore legs, with a great deal of dexterity. He can climb a tree faster than a man. Not so the grizzly. He stands more erect on his legs. He is built more for strength than nimbleness, and therefore is not in the habit of climbing small trees

This fact has saved many men from being torn to pieces, c? consola tion to the pursnfd.

Bear stories »r»* Sequent in camp tfyan formally, -:'il we have, an adventure with iHciw mountain monsters. One of our party, Capt. P., once went out prospecting for a quarts lode. With pick in band be comm«notd eUnb&tb* Kwutaia, oto«|iy

•canning every rock showing indications of mineral. At last he came to a large fatal cedar lying across his course. Fastening his jack on top of the.log, he hoisted himself so he could look over it. Just then a large grizzly

uFinto

w]^ nothing bat

... A (till «a4 anil IM AW

ot he, bravery, thi. Mklmrt

indulge in celebration, which it i&

region

I have just returned from a sojourn of some months of e*st Tennessee, There will be rambling over them, sometimes on speeches, and —,—, horseback and sometimes afoot. In distinguished people from abroad will and give a terrible scratch. He felt this way I have become pretty well ac- be present. So worthily bestowed is thankful that he was not^ there to get quainted with the mountaineers of the the legislature's medal for heroism Chilhowee and Smoky ranges, and am that no one here will fail to do everysure that the readers of the Preps will thing in his power to make the be interested in a faithful description demonstration a success. Kate She! of this "peculiar people," who ley is now a comely girl of 18, but she are, however, in no wise "zeal- achieved her present fame by an act ous of good works," nor of any other of the greatest bravery when she was kind of works, since the government but 16. has broken up the illicit distilleries in At about dark on the 6th of July, their mountain gorges. They are 1881, a storm of wind and rain of unclassed in the South as "poor white paralleled severity broke over this retrash." Everywhere thev are the gion. In an hour's time every creek „n,e people, "the marked characteristics, speaking the was the flood and such was the

procession, music,

a banquet, and many

barns,.....—, ,- .,— within reach of the waters were carried away. Looking from her window, which in daylight commanded a view of the Honey Creek railroad bridge, Kate Shelly saw through the darkness and storm a locomotive headlight. A second later it dropped, and though the crash which it must have made was not perceptible above the roar of the wind, she knew that the bridge had gone, and that a train of cars had fallen into the abyss. There was no one at home but her mother and her little brother and sister, and the girl understood that if help was to begiven to the sufferers, and the express train, then nearly due, warned, she would have to undertake the task alone.

"v"^ *v

They met face to

face, each staring the others eyes,

the cedar log between

sent to Alias Kate Shelley the medal them. The captain says the bear show- between Count Stephen Batthyany and voted her by that body in recognition ed him his teeth. He thinks there was

t?

does not know" how"long this "panto- in which, as was announced by cable,

uiuu*bv wvws— mime lasted, but he remembers letting the former was instantly killed. The expected will eclipee any public demon- all hold go from that log and sliding particulars show the tragedy to have Btration ever held in this region, down and making for a tree near by, the climax of a thrilling romance which he went "up in a jiffy. Justas ....

he was leaving the log, he says, he saw

a big paw reach over on his side of it, which, except the successful duelist, '—:u,~ connected with the highest

that scratch, and it was a "bare scratc that he was not there. Up that tree, the captain felt safe for tne time being, and could look down and see Mr. Grizzly, who was standing on the opposite side, with his paws resting leisurely on the log, looking straight up that tree, evidently studying the situation for an offensive as well as defensive operation. Grizzly soon got down and went off a short distance, then turning around took another glance at the man up the tree, then went into the brush, and was soon out of sight. After some delay the captain ventured down fron the tree, and, finding a smooth, narrow gulch, where he sat down, gave a wriggle or two, and soon found himself on the bank of the Columbia river going down at 2:15 speed. He_ came into camp alone and without his hat and related his adventure. The' captain thinks that grizzly went after reinforcements.

Now, this interview between the captain and the grzzly is the captain's siae of the Btory. The other 6ide has not been heard.from. As both sides of a story ought to be heard, the writer would suggest that it is quite reasonable to suppose that the cause of the grizzly's leaving the field first was that he had become tired of the monotony and disgusted with the non-combative-ness of his intruder, and that he went in search of more agreeable and exciting amusement, but as it stands, the Captain claims the victory because he left the field last. It was a noticeable fact that the captain preferred standing to sitting while partaking of his camp meals for several days. The day of thisadventure some Indians passed and they were informed of it. They pursued grizzly with their dogs, and on the following day. a large grizzly^was killed in that vicinity. Notwithstanding the evidence being conclusive that the identical animal has been killed, the captain thinks that some of his kindred might still be living, and that he has no desire personally to dispute a grizzly's claim to a quartz ledge.

ECCENTRIC SUICIDES:

A member of the Texas bar com mitted suicide because his client berated him for losing his case.

Jennie Roberts of Pittsfield flung herself into a stream after being refused permission to attend a ball.

to securo neip iorniin »uu nam staked his life on a horse, and losing,

she nearly lost her balance, and, in the endeavor to save herself, her sole companion, the old lantern, went out. She had no matches, but if sbe had had thousands of them they would have been of no service in such a place and in such a storm

ho.

.i.n««

and

in such a place and in such a storm.

mind

San Francisco

George Atkinson of nnauy muutcu wic

aDnroachine express train of the fall of immediately paid the forfeit with a the duel he returned to Hungary and,, fiTru-jj-^

the bridge. The girl then retraced her steps, gained the track, and made her way with all the speed that the gale would permit, toward Moingona, a small station about one mile from Honey Creek. In making this perilous journey it was ^ecessarv for her to fust builtTaTledToToflect water enough the high trestle bridge over the les wheel Moines river, about 500 feet length. Just as she tremblingly put her foot on this structure the wind, rain, thunder,

A Kansas miller dropped himself in his mill pond because a dam he had

change

pi8tol shot. accepted the challenge. The conditJ- Lange of St. Paul, while riding on tions were very rigorous. The pistol* a railroad train, first cut his wrists with a razor and then jumped through car window.

to turn the wheel. Rosenberg, without advancing the five Boss Gallion, of Covington, Ind.,

this structure the wind,'rain, thunder, having losthis health through a wound opponent and fired. The ball struck and lightning were so appalling that received in a struggle with a tramp,

in ended his life with a pistol ball. through the brain.

~of

0f

Deprived of her light, she could not Deer Park, Wd, and she killed herself with wreaths, oae of which

Mrs. Joseph Shaw, of Gatesvil'e, aneous. Leaving the seconds to take Texas, saturated her clothing with

see a-foot ahead savewhen the dazzling eating two handfuls of blue vitriol, inscription: To my adored husoana. flashes of lightning revealed, the gnto

wl i] in Jogeph Moore. of

plOwiUKj "W-r" 7

Cowden, 111., suddenly detertnined to kill himself, and taking a rein, he hanged himself from a bush overhanging a ravine near by.

An insane convict in the Ohio penitentiary tried to commit Filicide by swallowing a large spoon. Failing in this, he thrust the spoon down his throat so forcibly that the handle broke off and he was strangled.

Eliza Hill, of Seymour, Conn., got hor dress wet, and ber step-mother would not let her put on her best dress. The girl took her father's gun, put the muzzle over her heart, touched the trigger with her toe, and foil dead.

Christian Burkbardt, of Cincinnati, first shot himself in the mouth, thinking to send the bullet into his brain. It did not kill him and ho then put the pistol behind his right ear and fired the second time. Still he was not killed, and at the third attempt he missed his head altogether. The fourth time he pressed the pistol against his al domen. The calibre of the weapon was small, and he is likely to recover from his wounds.

Paralyzing a Dog With Awe. Chicago News. Hon. Phil Hoyne, of Chicago, is accountable for the following: "I was going along the other evening, when a savage dog flew out on me, evidently ready to rend me in pieces. Now, what d'ye suppose I did "Whipped out your pistol, I presume, and let fly at him." "Not a bit of it I simply lifted my hat Don't laugh.

The

dog stopped, looked

at me, growled, and finally crouched back to the doorstep and began waging bis tail. I have done the same thing over and over again, with the same result." "How do you account for the re-

'This is how I figure it out," said Mr. Hoyne. "Dogs, in my opinion, think—in a crude way. They see .*• man, such as I, walking along, say will a plug hat on his head, and so forth. To him I present a complete picture, just as a dog with flapping ears, swish mg tail and lour legs presents one equally complete. Now, mark! The four-footed picture cannot, so to speak, disintegrate. No dog ever saw another dog take off bis tail, or lay down hi? ears, or throw away one of his him! legs. This human apparition suddenly begins to take himself to pieces. lie lifts off his hat. The dog don't know what is coming next, perhaps. He begins to think. He is overawed. Hi meets with a power which is beyond his compiehension and hesuccuml s. Mind you, this is only my theory, but I have tried it on several times and 1 always found it to succeed."

Rural Reporter on the Red I«" moil. Somerset iPenn.) Herald.

There is no more terrible cry tl.ai that of "fire!" ringing out on tie startled ear of night even murder, with all its hideous associations, dotr not arouse us to sympathy or to action as does the alarm that the red demon, fire, is loose in our midst licking np the pride of luxury, the fruit of toil, the scrapings oi avarice, and the savings of years. Sucii was the cry that startled the inhabitants of our village on Fridav morning at 3:40 o'clock. The alarmed citizens, men, women and children, youth and age, wit and beauty, strength and weakness, hurried to the scene and found that J. K. Coffroth's stable was 011 fire. A valuable cow was dragged seemingly dead from the flaming building, bnt afterward recovered.

The Mormon apostles, who modestly represent themselves as models of the

'if

-ll nn,TI n/^ run a

trading post

Lake City, control the Utah Central railroad and collect $500,000 a year in tithes from the faithful followers of the Obureb

oi

tb# J4tt«r-D*y 8atota

3

A FAMOUS DUEL.

The Cause Which Led Dr. Kogenberg to Take the Ufe of Count Batthyany. The Vienna and Paris papers re* ceived by the latest mails contain the details of the fatal duel at Temesvar, Hungary, on the 23d day of October,

Julius Rosenberg, a young advocate,

xl

111

rea^

s°me tlie personagt

are Hungarian aristocracy. Last summer Dr. Rosenberg, who is a young Hebrew lawyer in Pesth, made the acquaintance at a Bohemian watering place of Miss Ilon$ vou Schosberger, the younger daughter of a rich Jewish banker and land owner named Heinrich Schosberger deTornya. The young people fell in love with each other The girl's parents, however, influenced by their son-in-law, Baron Bornemissa, who had married their eldest daughter, and who declared that the marriage would be a mesalliance and would oblige him to break bis, (the Baron's relations with them, refused their consent. The consequence was that the young couple were secretly married:Immediately after the ceremony the lady returned to her father's house. Dr. Roseberg shortly afterwards peared there and demanded his bride. Herr von Schosberger was ready to acknowledge his son-in-law, but Baron .V Bornemissa was of a different opinion, and wanted to shoot the young plebeian. By the baron's orders, the young lady was sent to Paris, and from there to one of her father's castles in one of the wildest regions in® is the interior of Hungary. Subsequently was announced that Miss Ilona vo», Schosberger had becomc a Catholic -,c and had gone to Wiesbaden, Germany, where she had been betrothed to Count Batthyany. Dr. Rosenberg, hearing, the rumor, hastoned there and had ant interview with the count, in which he. told him that the young woman he was about to marry was his*(Rosenberg's) wife. He appealed to his rival 8s honor and begged him not to force the ., young girl into an illegal marriage to^ which she herself was opposed. The count formally refused to either listen,. to him or to pay any attention to the(challenge which*" the lawyer sent to him, on the ground that the challenger' was not his equal in birth. The matter was laid before a "court of honor in Pesth, and after long argument it was decided that Rosenberg was com--petent to challenge the count. The latter still refused to pay any attention to it and the lawyer published hm* challenge in all the journals, with the. added stigma of such epithets as "cownrd," "poltroon," applied to the count. The latter's friend came to his rescue, and a peculiar newspaper controversy' ensued, in the midst of which the count married Miss von Schosberger and started on a wedding tour with her to Italy. The young lawyer's vindictive lapoon must, however, have finally induced the count to

After the ceremonies the remains were

taken to BuZlasr Corint aithyanyls father intends Bhortly to publish an. authentic account of the causes which led to the duel. Mr. Varnay, Rosenberg's counsel, informed the districtattorney that iiis client was ready to der himself to the courts., surrenc

The Woman Who Tamed OaGw.^ Bouck. i. Washington Post. 4^——•

Bouck underwent a queer transforformation when he came to Washing ton to serve in congress. He had never worn a white shirt or waistcoat before coming here. His shirt was black flannel, with a heavy gold chain twisted down its front. His coat was a blue frock, adorned with hugli brass buttons. His face was heavy and swarthy. His nose turned up a decided pug, while his eyes were black and viciously.. crossed. Over a low forehead hung a mass of uncombed, coarse, black hair. This eccentric lawyer—a man of ability, a sworn bachelor and a howling hater of woman—came to the Ebbitt House, and was seated at the tablo where sat Congressman McKinley and hfs wife. Her bright, sunny, ladylike ways subdued at ODCC the man who had never mentioned for fifty yeare & woman's name without an oath. Gradually Bouck became transformed. He bought a white shirt and a waistcoat. He had his hair cut and combed. Finally he added the crowning stroke by having his boots blacked. He was while here the chivalrous and devoted slave of the charming Mrs. McKinley, who used to be called by her lady friends "the bear tamer."

The Story of a Ballet.

New Orleans Picayune. On the 8 th of October, Flatly was shot by Peter McDermott, at the corner of Girod and Tchoupitoulas streets. The bullet, a 32-caliber, entered the left eye and passing across the face, lodged in the inside of the neck on the right side.

For a year or two Flatly's mind wandered, and for about six months he was an inmate of the Charity bospiral. It was found impossible to locate the bullet, and its course could not be traced. Flatly's condition was for years considered to be such that any undue excitement might cause death.

On Thursday last Flatly experienced a peculiar sensation and severe pain in his throat. He coughed, and to his utter surprise and relief the bullet, shot into his head eleven years before,. fell out on the floor. He picked up the little pellet which had caused him so much pain and uneasiness, and is now fully restored to health. flatly was a soldier in Lee's army, and left the city in the Emmet Guards, and was wounded threr times during the war. He is now a member of the Army of Northern Virginia.

•:Vi

his mind, for a few days before,

tions were very rigorous. were rifled. The duellists were to firo at twenty paces. Threo shots were to be exchanged, after each one of which thev were to approach five paces to each other. The duel,asalready stated,, took place at Temesvar. The count the first shot and missed. Dr.

paces as

he had a right to, aimed at his

t£c count's

right temple and passed

Death

care

kerosene, then lashed herself securely the scene of the tragedy. to a tree, and set her clothes on fire. The next day at 4 o'clock the funeral Religious excitement unsettled the services of the count took place at mind Mrs. Henry Beekham, of Temesvar. The coffin was covered

Mrs. Henrv Beekham, of Temesvar. J.lie comn was covered

was instant-

of the corpse, Dr. Rosenberg lefts

bore

tne

Mr. Villard has stabled "Old Nig," the horse which drew the first and last load of rails for the Northern Pacific road, comfortably in New York, there to pass the remainder of his days in peaceful enjoyment of all the oats he. .,- can eat. W

At Tonqnin has been discovered an extract that re a certain cure for snake bites. Perhaps it is nothing but lh old American remedy known as corj, juice.

People in Alabama are enthusiastic over the great "boom" which the state will have when the railroads, now building, open up the coal-fields there.

Teo Tolstoy, the Russian novelist, refuses to serve on a jury because hl?f reliaous convictions forbid him to serve as a judge over his fellow men.

General Roger Pryor-, while waiting the opportunity to defend his Irish client, is sight-seeing in London, and is a frequent visitor at the law courts.

The earl of Cork, accompanied by bia son, Viscount Dunganpon, a youth ot 13, if doisg Cbtaigo,