Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 19 October 1884 — Page 5

--C.

if

&

ixv

lAMLIS'S WEIL

BBHrTKA M. OT-LATST.

Author of "Dora Thorn*."

CHAFTBS XjT.

Lady Chesleigh decided that the mait take Victoria with her whan she Bought her husband. Without the sanction of tbe child'i presence she would not dare to address Sir Aldewin. To the inquiry as to whether she would go out and gather flowers, the child responded by an eager cry. 8he was always pleased to go with Mrs. Moore,

Mother and child, eo near, yet such strangers, went out together and in a short time Blaine saw Sir Aldewin fitting upon one of the garden chairs placed under the trees. There was no need for her to think of a pretext to speak to him, for the moment he caught sight of littlo Pearl he called her to him.

The child ran to him with open arms Elaine followed at a distance. She stood where she could see her husband, and the Bight of his face dismayed her. How he must have loved Madolin, if love of her had changed him so utterly I ITis face was pale, drawn, haggard, with great lines of pain round the mouth tbe eyes were shadowed the whole man seemed altered. How he must hate loved her!

A burning jealous pain came to her love of her, grief for her, had never ehanged him so. Why should he love her cousin so much, and herself not at all? Was it fair? She stood watching him with more of jealousy, more of anger in her heart than had ever been there before. Yet she was softened and touched when she saw how he caressed the child, bow he lavished kisses and kind words on her. There aaust be some little regret for the mother, she thought, when there was so much love lor the child.

He placed little Pearl on his knee, and then looked round to see who had charge of her. When he saw Mrs. Moore, hesmiled and nodded so kindly that the loving heart beat and the dark face flushed. He seemed, she fancied, pleased that she was near, because she was kind to his little daughter. Presently she heard him say: "Darling, would you like to go away with papa, along way from here, to a beautiful land where orange-trees grow, and the sun shines as it never shines in England? Would you like to go there with me "Yes, papa," said the child, claspipg her arms round his neck. "It is such a beautiful land and my darling shall see the blue sea where her mother Bleeps—the wide, bright blue sea, little Pearl: all day it is bright with a a golden light, all night with a silver luster. Will you come, my darling?" "He means to go to Italy," thought her heart sank within

Elaine and her. He told the child pretty simple stories about the lovely land, and she listened with smiles. 8udaenly he said to her: "Whom will my little Pearl take with her?"

She stretched out her pretty pink arms to the dark-robed figure. "Mrs. Moore," sbe answered quickly. "Do you love Mrs. Moore better than your music?" asked Sir Aldewin. "Yes," said the child.

The earnest face, the earnest voice, recalled Elaine to his mind. "How like you are to your mother, mv sweet child 1" he said. And when Klaine heard the words they seemed to overwhelm her with happiness.

Then Sir Aldewin spoke to her with his sad, kind voice. "Gome here, Mrs. Moore, and listen to what this child says."

He had never noticed her face before, except in a casual way but now he looked straight at her. She excited his interest—sne had won his child's love. He looked at her steadily, frankly, and kindly. Her eyes drooped before bis, and her whole manner changed. "Great Heaven!" he thought to himself, "How much in the expression of her face she resembles Elaine!" "What do you think missie says, Mrs. Moore?" he said aloud. "She would like you to go abroad with her. Would you oonsent to go

She hardly dared to answer him the low, hushed tene in which she disguised her voice must fail her now, she thought. She shrank back, trembling and afraid, when she saw that she must

lie felt sorry for her. He faneied she was confused and embarrassed at being addressed by him. He would not increase her confusion. "You have been very kind to the little one," he said "you have quite won her love. If, on thinking the matter over, you will consent to go to Italy with her, I shall be very pleased, should trust her entirely to you."

In a low, smothered voice she asked him: "How long should you remain abroad, Sir Aldewin

She saw something of despairing impatience in his face as be answered: "I do not know. I should never caro to return here at all. I should probably live and die there. 1 ou can think it over. If you do not like to go. I shall still be grateful for your care of the Dhlld: if you go, you may consider the ease ol your future life secured. "I will think of it," she said.

Bhe knew that she could not go. It was easy enough to keep up her disguise when he so seldom saw her and die rarely spoke to him but, if she were brought into contact with him day after aay, she could not retain it— of that she was quite sure. So that his determination to go to Italy was the signal for herto part with her child.

She thought of these things as she led the little one away. Turning to look at him, her heart yearned towards him with wisful love. He had flung himself at lull length upon the gardenseat, and he lay there with his face buried in his hands. What would she not have given to have been enabled to go baok to him and oomfort him, to kneel by hia Bide and utter all kinds of eousoling, loving words to him—a privilege that by her own act and deed sbe had forfeited forever?

Sir Aldewin had come to this determination—he would go and live abroad. Tbe sight of his home was hateful to him he had peopled it with dreams, and now the dreams bad ended. Madolin was never to be mistress there her beautiful face was never to shine in the rooms he had prepared for her. He was reckless and despairing he tiated his life Madolin was lost to him

He tried to persuade himself that she c"\not love him—never had loved him. et, when he believed it most, the memory of her in her noble, truthful womanhood rose before him, and seemed to rebuke him. In his own mind he contrasted Madolin and Blaine. He had loved the one with all his heart, and the other bad loved him. The one, even in dying, bad thought only of him, had longed to bearhis name, had wished but to belong to him the other had given him up—he knew not why. "Elaine loved me best," he said to himaelf "I shall never find aaother Vw likeltera."

00016

to him like a sud-

At»on,hoW much hia fair

\t iweA hlm, how loyal, how true, how devoted ahe had lieen.That evening ahe spent some time

before

tact with him, saw a great change in Sir Aldewin he had always been kind and considerate! patient and courteous—now he was irritable, angry, reckless, He tried to check himself. "I never was very sweet tempered," he said "but now I myself."

am frightened at

would brook no contradiction, he consulted no one he gave orders, never caring whether it was convenient that they should be cairied out or not he alternated between the most profound gloom and the most animated spirits. No one quite knew, as his servants said, how "to take him for the most trifling faults he dismissed his servants, and then wondered why they had gone and Elaine grew secretly alarmed when she heard every one speak of his strange moods.

He was the same with little Pearl sometimes he shut himself up with her, and would not have her taken from his sight—again, days might pass, and he would not see her. But the thing above all others tbat frightened Elaine was his reckless habit of riding Once or twice, when out on the highroad, Bhe saw him riding as though for dear life, his horse covered with foam, his own face wild and excited. 8be beard that the grooms Baid they were afraid to ride out with him, he was so utterty reckless if he did not care about risking his own life, they did about theirs. It was the same when he drove—indeed, there was hardly a day that he passed out of tbe wide gates that those who saw him did not prophesy tbat he would be brought nome dead.

More than once Lady Chesleigh debated within herself as to whether Bhe should send to Madolin or not. She grew alarmed when sbe heard the many vague, distreseing rumors. Mrs. Bird spout half her days in lamentation about her master.

But into Sir Aldewin's despair a strange element was creeping—the love of bis fair young wife, the tenderhearted girl who had love him so well. He had never thought of loving her but now a kind of passionate regret that he had not known her better and cared more for her came to him and mingled strongly with his life. Pique against Madolin for her sudden -dismissal of him, and her resolute silence, perhaps led to this.

There came a morniug, never forgotten in that household, when Sir Aidewin ordared out anew pair of horses. He had recently purchase them, and every one warned him that they were wild and not properly broken. He laughed at tbe warning.

He had driven them sevtral times, and the groom returned with marvelous stories of his doings. On this bright August morning he had ordered them to be harnessed again, and Elaine, with unxious heart, stood at the nurser\ windows watching the scene. Tbe nurse ^as there with little Pet»rl.

Suddenly Sir Aldewin opened the nursery door. "Drees, missie, nurse, he said "I am going to take her with me."

No one dared to oppose that imperative voice. The Bilence of death seemed to have fallen on the two terrified women who bad heard it.

CHAFTKB LVI.

Quietly the nurse obeyed Sir Aide, win. Her face had grown pale, her hands trembled SB she prepared the pretty hat and dress. Elaine had stood for a few minutes in perfect silence then love for her child gave her courage. She turned to her husband. "Are you going to drive the new pair, Sir Aldewin she asked. '•Yes," he answered. "Then I beg of you not to take the child. Oh, do believe me, it will not be safe. She is BO young, so timid do not take her!"

There was an agony of entreaty in her voice, a pasBion of supplication but the only way in which she affected him was to confirm him in his obstinacy. "Pray leave her here," Baid Elaine "I am alarmed on her account." "If I thought there was any danger, should not take her," he replied. "1 require no one, Mrs. Moore, to teach me my duty as regards my own child." "You do not understand. You do not see the danger, and I do. Nurse, you must not dresB her. Sir Aldewin, she must not go."

He laughed at the peremptory words. "You are very good to be so anxious about her, although it is no compliment to me," he Baid ''but, you must understand that I brook no interference." ^he drew nearer to him in her fear. "Pray remember that you have not been well, Sir Aldewin, and that, if now you were to lose command of the horees for one moment—

Sir Aldewin held hp his hand as a sign for silence "I am obliged to you," he said, not discourteously "but I permit no interference."

The mother's heart was all on fire. Her child should not be taken into danger. Sbe caught her in her arms. "The child has no mother here to act in her behalf, Sir Aldewin and I say she must not go."

With the strength that he seldom used, Sir Aldewin took the child from her. She dared not struggle, dared not rebel. She grew white as death, and trembled violently. "Nurse," he said, "follow me with missie's hat I am going to teach her how to drive. Mrs. Moore, you have exceeded your duty. I will consider whether I" can overlook your conduct. am inclined to think not. It is an insult to me to suppose that I would endanger my child."

He took the little one away, leaving Mrs. Moore behind, white, trembling, and faint with a terrible fear. The nurse pitied her. She touched her on the shoulder as she pass by. "You have a kind, tender heart," she said." "Cheer up. The child is like the apple of his eye he will net let danger come near her." "Oh, the little loving, lovely child!" Elaine stretched out her arms, with a great cry. An impulse came to her to run down and seize her, even should Sir Aldewin strike her but it was too late. She stood by the window and saw the little figure placed by Sir Aldewin's side—saw the sweet little face, so full of glee, raised to his and then they drove away. The sun was shining on them, and the warm summer air was full of music.

The nurse returned, and tried to console Mrs. Moore but she answered her never a word, She stood rooted to one spot until the woman startled her by saying: "If she were your own child, you could not take on more." "My own child!" she echoed, and her eyes looked so wild and troubled that the nurse shrank back with a sudden fear lest she was going mad but the words had startled her. She left the ursery and went to her room. She spent the time that followed lying on her face, crying to heaven with passionate crieal

She did not know how the hours assed but the sound which disturbed ier was a woman's sudden cry—a sudden, terrible cry. Tbe next muiute Elaine was standing in tbe corridor. She saw Sir Aldewin, pale and scared she saw the nurse with a white face, and Mrs. Bird looking like one who had lost her senses.

Presently she witnessed a terrible sight. She saw a groom enter Victoria's room and lay the little figure which he had carried in his arms upon the bed. As he left the room the two women and Sir Aldewin attempted to ass in. Elaine

Btood

1

the

oicture of Blaine the fair, fond taee always had smiles for him. •8he loved me best," he repeated to over and over again. that time servants and de-

From that ume servanw ana

at the open door.

Dhey never forgot her attitude they never forgot her face or her voice, the depth of ner woe. "What is it?" she asked: her white lips could form no other words. *'What is it?"

The child is hurt—the horse ran away," answered Sir Aldewin. Then they would have passed her by, bat she waved them back with outstretched hands. "®o, an ol yew," she cried "leave chad!"1* own "The woman la mad!" exclaimed Sir

ae- me

p^Unts, every one who came in con-J Aldewin.

"I call heaven to witness," she said, "that I am the mother of that child, and no other hand shall touch her!"

Before they could speak she had retired into the room, closed the door, and locked it

Sir Aldewin looked at the two servants they looked at him, "She must be mad," he repeated but this time there were fear and wonder in his voice.. "I do not think so," said Mrs. Bird. "I have fancied for some time past that there was something strange about Mrs. Moore now I am sure of it." "What do you mean?" cried Sir Aldewin. "I cannot tell you what I mean, sir I do not know myBelf. I have only noticed things that seemed strange to me. I have gone into the child's night nursery and found Mrs. Moore kneeling by the bed. I have seen her weeping over missie, worshiping her.^ I have seen tbat which makes me think her uncanny.' "She must be mad," declared Sir Aldewin but sgain there was something in his voice full of emotion. "I have heard strange things, Sir Aldewin, and I have known stranger. I have seen my lady, your wile but, if I could believe in things supernatural, I should say that my lady's soul had clothed itself in that fragile body to look after her child."

Though the words were those of an ignorant woman, they struck Sir Aidewin it occurred to him that he had noted a great resemblance to Elaine in this strange woman, in the expression of her face, in her gestures, her voice. He looked at the two servants. "There are," he said, "more mysteries in this life than one dreams of. I must impress upon you both the need of perfect secrecy. If you keep silent, you shall live comfortably for the remainder of your lives if you reveal what has taken place, I Bhall simply send you away at once. Keep silent and be my friends. I must discover what all this means."

He was about to try to enter the room, when the door opened, and Elaine came to the threshold. "Lose no time," she said: "let one of the men saddle the fleetest horse the stable, and go to Brookdoctor! Let no time him tbe child's arm is

in ton for

a

be lost! Tell

broken and her head injured." Before she could close the door again, Sir Aldewin had entered the room. The little figure lay white and still upon the bed, with a crimson stain on the pretty brow and curly hair. 5ir Aldewin looked at her, and then at the fragile figure that shrank from him. 'Look at your work," ahe said, sternly "you who should have protected her, yuu should have kept her safe from all danger—you have killed her—my pretty child!" "Heaven knows I am sorry I never thought to harm her. She had asked me, in her pretty baby way, to let ber go out with me, and I had promised her. I would rather have died than have hurt one hair of her little head.

Then he turned suddenly to his companion, and looked into ber face. "Who are you," he cried, "that you call my child yours? Who are you?" "It matters little who 1 am, she answered.

But he, looking eagerly into her face, cried: "Great Heaven! Sbe has Elaine's brow, Elaine's eyeB! Who are you? Answer me, lest I go mad!"

She was mute before him, struggling to free her hand from his clasp, to hide her face from his keen eye3. "Is it as they say!" he cried. "It it Elaine's soul in this strange body— Elaine's soul looking at me out of those eyes? Ob, heaven, I am afraid—sore afraid! Answer me!" he commanded. "I see a face that I know, yet that is strange to me—a face familiar, yet terrible. I say that I cm frightened. Answer me!" "I am Elaine, your wife,". she answered "whom you loved BO little that death in life seemed to her better than life with vou."

She stopped, for he bad fallen upon his knees, and, for the first time in her life, she saw Sir Aldewin weep. "I am sorry you know it," she Baid, more gently. "I meant to keep my secret until I died and I hoped to die soon. am sorry you have found it out. I will go away, and no one need know." "You will never go from me againnever, if you are my wife, Elaine,"

1

he

declared. "I am Elaine—in very truth, hopeless, wretched Elaine. I thought when I saved Madolin's that I should lose my own. I thought if I died she would be free. But heaven had its own ordinance. My life was spared. Then I grew confused in my ideas of right and wrong, and I believed that I could be dead in life." She went over to the child, and laid her hand on the little head. "I should have Btaid away forever," sbe said "I would never have even looked upon England again. My misery had crushed all that was human in me. The love of parentp, of home, of friends, of country, of life—even the love of you— was all crushed and dead within me. But this was the love that lived—the love of my little child. It was that which brought me back here. It was that which made me brave the danger and the risk of discovery to come here."

He was looking at her in wonder. That delicate girl to have the courage to endure all this! And she, still standing with her hand on the little head, told him the whole story. "Then Madolin knows?" he said, softly. And Bhe answered him: "Yes, Madolin knowB all." "I understand," he said, quietly. "I have been quite bewildered now I understand."

And she saw the old light, the old entleness, return to his face as he bent lis head over the child.

CHAPTBB LVII.

Lady Chesleigh was standing, calm and composed, by the bedside of little Pearl for the doctor had entered, followed by the nurse, and he was proceeding to examine the child.

She never forgot the next five minutes that passed—the terrible ordeal while the steady gra\e eyes went over the little figure, and the skillful hands touched each little limb. She stood erect and quite still, but her face was white there was a sound as of rushing waters in her ears, a red mist before her eyes.

The doctor's voice broke the silence. "There is not much the matter," he said "the arm is broken, and there is a slight wound on the head. With skillful nursing, the child will be heraelf again in a few days.

Elaine looked up at him with earnest eyes. "You are quite sure?" she said. "I am quite sure," he replied and then he gave a few more directions to the nurse.

He quitted the room, but Sir Aidewin did not follow him. Thej barenet had the greatest difficulty in controlling bis emotion he had been so bewildered, so beside himself, that he had hardly heard what the doctor had said. Had a thunderbolt fallen at his feet he could not have been more dazed had the earth opened, the heavens rent, the sun grown dark, he could not have been more startled.

While he stood looking at Elaine with wonder and amazement, he saw her totter, and then fall, without a word or cry, like one dead, to the ground.

He opened the door and called for Mia. Bird. The time was come when he must trust some one he told her the truth. "You are an old and faithful servant," he said: "you will keep my secret for the honor of my name.

She was long in recovering from her alarm that Sir Aldewin grew more embarrassed than ever. At last he decided that the only thing left for him to do was to telegraph for Madolin, which he did at once.

Elaine was taken to her own room, and Mm. Bird remained with her the mine stud with little Pearl.

All anxiety for the child was soon at an wad it was evident that she was

not seriously hurt. The broken arm would soon mend the wound in the pretty head was not a very serious one. All the household were relieved about her at first they had believed her dead. Bui as to Elaine, it was a difficult matter.

It was late in the evening before Madolin arrived. The first look at Sir Aldewin's face was enough for her. "You know all," die said. ''Heaven help me," he answered, I know all7"

They talked long together before Madolin went to see Elaine. "You must help me Madolin, he said, "you must think for me, plan for me, arrange for me. You must save my name. This scandal must never get abroad. No creature living—not even her own parents—must know tbat my wile returned to my house disguised as a servant. She must have been mad, my poor, simple, loving Elaine!"

Madolin raised her eyes to bis. "Does it not show how she loved you?" she said. "I have read lovestories I have loved you myself but I have never heard of, nor even imagined, a love like hers. It is more than the love of woman. You must be touched by it, Aldewin." "I am," he answered, with a deep sigh, wondering if love had ever been to anyone such a source of torture as it had been to him "I am touched, Madolin.- What could she have been thinking of, my poor Elaine?"

It required all Miss Brierton's courage to meet his confusion, his embarrassment, and consternation at length, from the chaos of thought something like clear ideas came to them. Madolin suggested that she should write to Sir John and Lady Marehe, saying tbat a rumor had reached Sir Aldewin that his wife had been picked up at sba, and that there was a faint probability of her being still alive. They were not to be too sanguine—not to dwell too much on the hope but there was faint chance—sbe might be living still. She would add that she haa started for Italy with Sir Aldewin, and tbat they might rely upon hearing from her as soon as there was anything to tell. "Then," she continued, "if you take mv advice, Aldewin, you will at once Bend carefully written paragraphs to all the leading newspapers, saying that there is some reason to believe that Lady Chesleigh was not drowned at sea when the 'Villa Rocca' was lost, but that Bhe was picked up by an outward bound vessel. Say that the report is not fully corroborated, but that there seems to be sufficient truth in it to justify her friends in going to seek for her. Those paragraphs will be copied lrom one paper to another, and every one will hear the news BO that, long before Elaine appears in society again, most peisons will have tired of the storv." "That certainly seems feasible," said Sir Aldewin. "I would do anything to prevent scandal, and to keep my name free from stain."

will, tnerexore, go to-murruw, uuu wu Elaine with me, if she is well enough to travel. We will go to Sicily, to the very spot from which the 'Villa Rocca sailed you can join us there. In a few days we can write to Lady Marche to say that we have certain news of her daughter's safety that will get into the newspapers and after that we can—and Heaven will forgive us the sin—satisfy all inauirers. Mind, Aidewin—lam a truthful woman, but I shall think it no sin and no untruth to say that Elaine has not been herself and indeed it is true, poor child!—between my passionate love and her passionate jealousy she was half mad. She would never have thought of acting as she did had she been herself every one will think that it was the shock of the shipwreck that unhinged her mind. Do you understand my plan?" "Yes and it is like yourself—wise, kind, and gentle," he answered. "I_think it will meet the case. You will join us and when she is well enough we can take her back to Southwold. And, Aldewin, you must love her such love muBt win love. We can both see that the blessing of Heaven has not been on our love that we were not destined for each other that, BO far as earthly love is concerned, we must take of eaoh other a lasting farewell." "What Bhall you do with your life, Madolin?" he asked, sadly, and she answered "Only Heaven knows. I shall not waste it neither shall I spend it in repining. I will use it well. You quite agree to all that I propose, Aldewin?" "Quite," heanBwered. "I am not afraid to leave little Pearl with the nurse," said Madolin she will soon recover but I think it highly necessary that Elaine should deprrt at once. If die is ill here we shall have a terrible expose. I shall not give her a drug but she must have something that will make her sleep, and I will take her away in her sleep. If Bhe were awake, her cries for the child would betray her.

So it was arranged but, when at last Madolin bent over the still face, she wondered whether all the trouble would be vain, or if Elaine would live to go through it—she looked BO ill.*

The removal was effected with great care and skill the servants only knew that Mrs. Moore was net well, and had gone away with Mies Brierton. Of tbe tragedy, the love, tbe anguish, the despair that had passed under their eyes they knew nothing.

Madolin carried her plan out to the very letter. She hardly rested until she was in Italy.

CHAFTBRLV1H.

Elaine will never forget the day when she felt stronger and better than usual, and Madolin went into her room, determined to have the hideous disguiBe removed. How Madolin laughed, with tears in her eyes, as she took away the dark hair, and saw Elaine's golden curls, bright, sunny, and graceful as little Pearl's! She wept as she washed away the disfigure ing eyebrows, the dark stain from the skin, the queer patches from the lovely face, scolding her friend vigorously all the time because she had been so foolish and Elaine stood up before the glass, trembling and faint, half frightened to look at herself again.

Despite all that she had suffered and endured all the ravages that sorrow, jealousy, wounded love, weary days, and sleepless nights had made, she looked so young and fair and bewitching that Madolin was enchanted. The sunny curls, like those on the head of a child, gave her an air of childlike grace and innocence.

As she looked at herself, Lady Chesleigh grew ashamed. "How you could spoil your face and head pussies me," said Madolin. And Elaine, turning to her flung her arms round her neck and hid her face upon her kindly shoulder.

She did not know why Madolin dressed her so exquisitely, why she made her wear white silk witn red roses, and placed red roses in her sunny curls. Finally her friend kissed her, and, looking gravely into the face, sAid: "Some day, Elaine, you will be able to guess how much I have loved you. And now I have^ to inform you that there is some one waiting to see you." "Who is it?" asked Elaine and she trembled so that the rose fell from her hair. "Oh, Line, who is it?" "Some one who loves you—who did not, perhaps, always love you, but to whom now you are very dear some one, my darling, whom you have injured, and to whom yon owe a lifetime of reparation." "It is Aldewin I" she cried. "I cannot see him—I dare not look upon his face again! Oh, Lina, help me! I due not see him!" "Yes, I will help yon," she answered. "I will tell yon this—look into my eyes, dear, and see that no shade of jealousy is in them, see that no pain is on my face, while I tell you this—tbat in the time past Sir Aldewin loved me beet, bnt that now he loves you that your loving, gentle heart, your devotion to Mm, your constancy, yeur wonderful love for himself, have won him. I will help yon this far I

THE TERRE HAUTE EXPRESS. SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 19.1884.

will take you and place you his arms." She suited the action to the word. She took the girl into the room where her husband stood waiting for her she placed -Elaine's arms round his neck. "It is the white dove with the olive branch," she said. "Between you lor the future, there must be nothing but the love ihat lives."

And she closed the door and left them together. There had never been a greater sensation than that which, was caused by the announcement of Lady Chesleigh return home. Society had discussed the whole story. She had been picked up at sea bya vessel that was outward bound, ana carried to China. Opinions, however, were divided as to the country—some said China, other America. One adventurous lady suggested the African coast, but she was frowned down. Still, every one agreed that she had been carried somewhere, and that the shock had brought on a kind of melancholia, and that she had been "taken care of." Society agreed that it would be much better not to take any notice of the misadventure it would be bad taste to bring it to her mind. She was to be received with open arms, and her escape from death touched on as lightly and gently as possible.

But at South wold the enthusiasm was something wonderful. The delight of the occupants knew no bounds. Lady CheBleigh never forgot the day when, amidst the cheers of hundreds of people and the pealing of bells, she saw her home once more.

How ber parents received her! How they seemed to worship her—to hang

She never

sto

upon every word and look! It was them almost as wonderful as if had risen from the dead.

she

forgot

either how, one day,

on going to Madolin's room, she saw the shawl of crimson and gold. What memories

it

had for her—what

thoughts! Then came another and perhaps greater pleasure—her reception at Ashbrooke. Of all those who welcomed her there, no one dreamed that she had seen that house and lived in it.

Sir Aldewin had done a most sensible thing—he had given both Mrs. Bird and the nurse a comfortable income, and Bent them away. It was not that he mistrusted them but he feared his wife might feel humiliated by seeing the only two who knew her secret. Lady Chesleigh was kind to them as long as she lived, but she never cared to see them again.

After a time the novelty of her ladyship's return died away, and the new happier life began for her and Sir Aidewin. Elaine was happy at last. Little Pearl loved her with a wonderful love, and her husband grew more and more devoted to ber every day. They had made a solemn compact, and it was that the past should never be mentioned between them, and that their thoughts were not to dwell upon it.

Lady Chesleigh had come_ to look upon her strange rash action as a species of madness. She was ashamed of it. Sbe had begged of her husband, with tears in her eyes, that little Pearl should never know it. He laughed at the notion, and assured her that it was buried in the past. She grew perfectly happv. Sir Aldewin seemed to live only to atone to her for all she had suffered. She was beloved by all who kri6w ber*

Then came even a greater happiness about two years aterwards for Lord Brendon returned, and persuaded Madolin to marry him. She refused for a longtime but Sir John advised her to relent. "You must marry him dear,' he

It was of no use refusing. Some women are wooed, some persuaded, and others teased into marrying. Madolin always declared herself one of the latter class.

Whether sbe would or not, Madolin must be Lady Brendon and, after a time, she wail very happy, as she deserved to be. There is a buried romance in every life she was no exception to the rule.

There are three sunny-haired children running about %t" ABhbrooke Hall and little Pearl has ceased to ask her beautiful mother why her curls are so short and just- like her own. Elaine was thankful when her hair had grown longer and thus saved her such tiresome questions.

Sir Aldewin stands sometimes before his wife's portrait He likes best when the western light falls upon it/ giving to the sweet tender face a beauty half fpiritual. "She braved death," be says to himself, "that I might be happy. She has iven me the whole of ner innocent

Leart—and that, after all, is THB LOVE THAT LIVES." [THE END.]

Improvements of the Drama. Mrs. Kendal'* Lecture. "Surely I am justified in Baying tbat tbe play-goer of to-day possesses advantages far and away above those which bis forefathers enjoyed. Let UB compare for a moment the play houses of which we read with those with which we are familiar. In the old days the utmost disorder was allowed to exiBt in the half-lighted auditorium. Eating and drinking ware freely indulged in smoking was permitted wine, spirits, and tobacco were hawked about card-playing was resorted to between acts the most distinguished among the audience were allowed to walk and sit on the stage and converse with the performers. It was no disgrace in thoee days for gentlemen of good Bocial position to be seen tipsy at a plav, and of course drunken brawls and disgraceful quarrels were of frequent occurrence. The entertainment provided on the stage was on a level with the intellect of the audience, and the players were looked upon as 'rouges and vagabonds.' No wonder that the drama got a bad name, and that people of a puritanical turn of mind regarded it with dismay. Of course all thie is going back a very long way. Matters began by degrees to improve. But I venture to say tbat it was not until the present generation that correctness in costumes, fidelity in

Bcene

painting, and attention to

every little detail connected with tbe action came to be looked upon as absolutely essential to the proper production of a play."

The Bee.

Naturalists say that the feet of the common working bee exhibit the combination of a basket, a brush and pair of pincers. The brush, the hairs of which are arranged in symmetrical rows, are only to be seen by the microscore. With this brush of fairy delicacy the bee brushes the velvet robe to remove the pollen dust with which it becomes loaded while sucking up the nectar. Another article, hollowed like a spoon, receives all the gleaningB which the insect carries to the hive. Finally, by opening them, one upon another, by means of a hinge, these three pieces become a pair of pincers, which render important service in tbe construction of the combs.

Telegrams in letter Boxes. The German Postmaster General has introduced another practical innovation in tbe service, namely, that of allowing telegrams to be thrown into the letter boxes, more especially into those attached to the mail cars on railway trains. All that is needed is to write the message on paper, mark it "telegram," and attach the tariff rates in postage stamps, and when these stamp* are not at once to be bad, these messages may even be sent unpaid or insufficiently, in which case the transmission fee is to be collected from the party receiving it, or if the same cannot be found, from tbe sender. This facility, however, only holds good thus far for the German Empire, exclusive of Bavaria, Wurtemberg and of foreign countries.

In England and on the continent breakfast is served without meat, except by special order and at extra charge

TALES GRAVE AND GAY.

How a Hog Booted Out a Fine Town.

On* Frudeat Father Who Is Outwitted by His Daughter—Ths Texas Woman Who "Rings When Bhe FIings"-D«eth ef a

Coyete.

"Carp" in Cleveland Leader. I have just returned from the shores of Lake Superior, where I spent some time visiting the copper regions, said to be the greatest in the world* Throughout the rocky, barren Keweenaw peninsula, good for nothing as farming lands, the immense copper deposits have caused large towns to spring up, and they now give employment to tens of thousand of men. About eighteen years ago a pig strayed from the drove to which it belonged and fell into a pit on a spot where the city of Calumet now standB. In rooting about it uncovered amass of native copper and showed to the world the location of the greatest copper mine it has ever known. As the result of that pig's rooting humanity is now $35,000,000 richer in the use of copper there discovered, and the stockholders, aided by the pig, have received about $25,000,000 for their trouble. A town of 6,000 inhabitants has gathered arouhd the pig's hole, and nearly 2,000 men are employed in operating the mines beneath it.

PRUDENT FATHER.

Detroit Free Press "Why, don't y6u take the daily papers at tne tiouse? was asked of a miss of sixteen, who was looking up and down Howard street for a newsboy yesterday forenoon. "Ob, yes but about every other morning father suppresses them and we must go without the news." "Why ahould he do that?" "There's probably another elopement with a coachman, and he doesn't want me to see the particulars." "And so you buy the papers?" Al "Just so—all the morning and evening issues, and I read 'em- to the last line. Pa is a dear, good old fellow, but if he gets ahead of me he's got to stop the printing presses instead of the papers."

HOW THET FLING IN TEXAS

Texas Prsaoher in San Antonio Standard. Holding services at a place one time. I took up a collection for the support of missions. There waa a poor old lady present who, I noticed, dropped a $5 gold piece in the hat. I knew Bhe was very poor and not able to afford so much and thought she had intended to throw in a quarter, but made a mistake. So next da* I met her husband, and said to him: "Look here, your wife put a $5 gold piece in the hat yesterday. I think she must have made a mistake." "No, no," he replied "my wife didn't make no mistake. She don't fling often, but, let me tell you, when she flings she flings."

LIMITED MARRIAGE CONTRAC1 Ban Francisco Bulletin. The twelve-year-old mother, Aggie Hilton, was married to Frank J. Strange, herBeducer, Wednesday evening, according to civil contract, the form of which was drawn up by Attorney Ha&sett. The contract embraces a clause by which Aggie has the power to annull it at the end of two years, if she so desires. Her mother was one of the witnesses, and stipulated with Strange that he should not live with Aggie until the expiration of two years.-

HOW THEY BEAT 'EM

Nau Kaw, a grandson of the Winnebago chief of the same name, has in hiB possession a "public document" in the shape of apiece of parchment on which is recorded that "Nau Kaw, chief of the Winnebagoes, bad duly smoked the pipe of peace with John Quincy Adams, preBidentof the Fnited States," whose signature it bears. Tbe certificate is dated 1828.

MABBIED ON HER DEATHBED.

Portland (Ms.) Argns. One of Lewiston's most accomplished and gifted young ladies, Miss Jesse Fuller Perkins, was married on her deathbed, Tuesday morning, in the full possession of her faculties, and at her own request In three hours she peacefully closed her eyes in death and in the Journal appears the announcement of her marriage and death. THE SORT OF CALF TO TRAIN FOB THE

ARENA.

Son Francisco Chronicle. A predatory coyote attempted to make a meal off a ealf only six weeks old, belonging to a ranch in Hermit Valley, Alpine county, but the plucky youngbovine unexpectedly turned the tables on its carnivorous assailant, killed the brute and was found in the morning still tramping on tbe carcass! of the dead coyote.

FI8HING WITH THE LASH OF A WHIP. Montana Son.

A gentleman coming from Butte City to Gridley the other day saw a small pond, the water of which was more or less agitated. He investigated and found tbe pool to be swarming with fish of the perch and sucker species. He killed twenty-four in less than ten minutes with a buggy whip. Tbe Bhortest measured thirteen inches. USING A GREENBACK FOR A GUN WAD* St. Louis Republican.

A gentleman from Cape Girardeau wjent out squirrel hunting last week, and during tbe day had occasion to load his gun in a hurry in order to get a shot at a squirrel. He killed it, but it cost him a dollar bill, besides the ammunition. In his hurry he rammed home a dollar greenback. He picked up the fragments, but they were worse than a counterfeit.

IT WAS MR. ST. JOHN I

New York Bun. Secretary—Here iB a teleg$s£Tfrom one of the presidential candidates asking for a special train.

President—Certainly let him have it Which one is it, Blaine or Cleveland?

Secretary—Neither. It's Mr. St. John. Piesident—Wire him the special trains are all engaged.

Tbe Strange Splendors in the Sky. Maw York Son. The fiery appearance of the western sky after sundown, which excited much attention and wonderment in all quarters of the world last year, has recently again become a conspicuous phenomenon, Last evening in particular the skies glowed with splendid shades of red and crimson, and so brilliant was the display that some persons thought a great fire was raginjg. T.rng after the 8tin disappeared a lund red light hun« over the western horizon* while the darkening heavens overhead reflected a faint tinge of pink. 8imilar displays have been witnessed at intervals ever since last winter and that they are due to the same cause which produced the astonishing red skies of a year ago is rendered probable by the persistence of another phenomenon which made its appearance at tbe same time with the original red glows. This is the halo which can be seen surrounding the sun on any clear day, and which has not lost any of its intensity "TUig the twelve

months that have elapsed since it was first noticed. It is a singular proof of the lack of attention paid to some of the plainest appearances of Nature, even by men whose lives are devoted to the study of natural science, that the question has been raised by well-known savans whether these sun pageants really are unusual phenomena. On this point there can be no longer any doubt. It is certain that the red glows referred to, and the curious appearance around the sun in the daytime, are not ordinary aspects of the sky.

The unchangeablenessof one of these phenomena and tbe intermittent appearance of the other render difficult the attempt to account for them by a angle cause, and yet there are many circumstances which tend to show that tbey have a common origin.

The explanation which has been most widely accepted, namely, that the appearances in question are due to the presence in the atmosphere of fine dust thrown out by tbe volcanic explosion in the East Indies a year ago last summer, is open to many objections, although it has also many circumstances to support it. One of the most serious objections to this hypothesis is furnished by the reappearance of the red glows several times after they had almoBt or quite disappeared. After the suppositious dust had once settled to the earth it would be difficult to account for its reascent to a height of many miles, even by the magical aid of electricity, which serves as a convenient wonder-worker for so many obscure theories.

But whatever the cause of the strange sights in the heavens may be—whether it IB meteoric dust from the star depths, or volcanic dust from the bowels of the earth, or no just at all, but the operation of forces inherent in the atmosphere itself—it is pretty clear by this time that it threatens no perils to the dwellers upon the earth, as has been asserted by some of the same soothBavera who declared that the world was likely to eome to an end, or ths human race to be annihilated in 1881, on account of the terrors of the perihelia and the revelations of the pyramid of Cheops. The great dry fog of 1783, which produced appearances similar to those recently witnessed, caused, it iB said, various epidemic diseases among man and animals but the present phenomena are evidently due to causes which have no effect upon the salubrity of the atmosphere, and so there is nothing to detract from the pleasure which all who delight in the splendid spectacles of Nature must derive from Deholding them.

mM

J®

Boston Herald ggBoth parties raise the cry of "fraud" in Ohio. The Republicans have the more money and taffy and the Democrats the better organization. The Republicans talk about Democratic repeaters, and the Democrats retort with storieB of Republican colonisation.

My opponents played the meanest game on me in my deeBtrict," said "Honest" John Covode. "They colonized 1,500 votes but, 'em, we beat 'em at their own game." PABCHMENT BBCOBD OF A CUBIOUS EVENT. Black River Falls (Wis.) Banner.

SHORT OF IBliANOS. 4

No New Worlds Left for Geographers to Conquer. London Standard. 'iC't

Geographers complain that soon there will be no more worlds for them to conquer, and the Danes have ever, since the loss of the Duchies, looked forward with doleful forebodings to the time when their country will be still further shorn of its fair proportions. Nature iB, however, bountiful, and now, by throwing up a new island off the shores of Iceland, it has added in an appreciable degree to the territories of King Christian and to the regions which still await the explorations of the traveler. It is true that the new land is only a volcanic cone, and as it was the result of subterranean fire may, like BO many of its predecessors born of the throes of mother earth, sink again into the ocean from whence it sprang. At various times, especially after some disturbance of Hekla, similar islets have for a brief period shown themselves above the waves, but generally, with the exception of Nyoe, which was thrown up last century, have been worn away by the action of the surf before geologists could accurately examine the volcanic scorise and ashes of which they were composed. In 1811 Captain Tillard, of H. M. S. Sabrina, witnessed such an islet arise during a volcanic outburst in the Azores, and proudly named it after his ship. But when he returned a few weeks later to survey and annex his acquisition not a trace of Sabrina island was visible. The sea had reclaimed it. In the volcanic region of the Mediterranean several similar births of land have been recorded by ancient and modern writers. But the most notorious of them was Graham iBland, which arose in the year 1831, some thirty miles off the southwest coast of Sicily. For a few weeks much ink was shed over it, and at one time it was feared that gunpowder would be burnt in the assertion of the angry claims which were Jmade for the wretched 2,300 yards of Etnaic cinders. The names of Sciacca, Julia, Hotham, Graham and Corrao were successfully given to it by the fiery mariners who cruised around it, ready to land and hoist their countries' flags the moment the scrolse cooled. But before Europe was embroiled in war about it Graham Island vanished, and so settled tbe dispute in its own simple way. After the destruction of Krakatoa by the great Javan earthquake of 1883, twenty-one new islets appeared in the Sunda Strait, and only last year one hitherto unknown rose above the sea off the shoreB of Alaska. In all of these cases volcanic action has been the ostensible cause of the formation of theBe specks in the ocean. But in 1871 Captains Luzen and Mack discovered to the north of Nova Zembla a groupe of islets just above the sea on the very spot where, in 1794, William Barents had found soundings. On the two largest, which were named Brown and Hellwald's Islands, tropical fruits were picked up, toBsed thither by the northern extension of the gulf stream. Hence, the group was named the Gulf Stream Islands, and as the land

Two decades passed away, and still Thomas Atkins, with his red coat, bis fixed bayonet, and his twenty yards of sentry-go, paced up and down, tbe brief parade fixed by his superiors. There was nothing to guard, and be guarded it He had been forgotten, in fact An Arithmetician Reduced to

Want.

New Orleans Times-Democrat.. A gentleman owning a ranch in New Mexico says that he is harboring in his camp a broken-down, poverty stricken old man named Ray, who is none other than the author of "Ray's Arithmetic." His story is a sad though not an unusual one. He was once a min of means, derived from the sale of his books, but went to California to double his wraith and there lost all. Then he drifted about the west, first here, then there, and finally brought up at the ranch in New Mexico. The gentleman says he is one of the most highly cultivated men he ever met, and his knowledge of the details of mining and land Taws is as near complete as can be.

People who have buffalo robes wonld doNveli ta hold on to them. They will sodtt be valuable as cariosities.

ANDBRSONVIIiiiB.

Some of Its Horrors Bsosllsd by Member of the Fifth Indiana

airy.

C»T-

Indianapolis Mews. For the benefit of the children of Indianapolis schools, who "graduated" under the regime which chopped off history with tbe beginning of the war, it may be well to preface this article with the remark that the Anderson* sonville prison was a stockade in Sumter county, Georgia. The story of tie sufferings of Union prisoners confined there has often been told. Tbe reunion yesterday of the Fifth Indiana cavalry in this city offered an opportunity for Comrade Erastus Holmes, quartermaster of company "F," to recount his experiences within the prison. He said: "The stockade comprised twentyseven acres. Through it ran a little brook, confined, a portion of its way, by rough boards. At the lower end of the brook was the deposit of filth for the whole camp. I am quite certain this was the hlthieBt spot on the face of the whole earth. This sluggish brook supplied 30,000 men with water for all the purposes of life. If no other cruelty haa been inflicted this was enough to disgrace the southern confederacy forever. The brook first passed through and supplied the rebel camp guardB, 5,000 strong, before trickling into the stockade. The suffering caused by the lack of water was woeful to behold. It produced more havoc than did the armed chivalry on the shirmish line. One day in Augusta cloud burst over the stockade, and such a wetting and glorious washing as we got can never be experienced except by those who haven't seen or tasted clean water for a year. This water spout, too, washed away a hillside, and its celebrated dead line spring poured out its flood. "I remember when we were firat marched up to Andersonville as prisoners. Captain Wirz, commander of the prison, appeared before us then began one of the most unique performances I ever witnessed. He raved up and down the line, like a wild beast, swearing at UB with the vilest billingsgate ever heard by a Yankee soldier, He fairly foamed at the mouth, and the sweat poured off of him. He was lucky not to rupture a blood vessel. After he was fairly tired out he gave this order: 'Strip them, strip them, every one take everything away! they are raiders and thieves. The order was faithfully executed. I, myself, stood for fifteen minutes entirely denuded, the sun pourirg down upon me with sickening heat. Gen eral Winder, the renegade commander of the southern priBon?, approved Wirz's order, and we were turned into the stockadd, sleepy, tired, hungry and almost naked.

In the dead house, on the day we entered the stocjtade, were eighty dead, and as the house would not hold them, all the overplus were carelesB'y thrown on the outside to await burial. A funeral conducted decently and in order, is ead enough but cul to mind, if you will, a burial at Andersonville. A slave, mounted on an army wagon, drives in among the dead. Corpses are pitched into the wagon with a one, two and three motion, until the bed is full, and several are heaped up above the wagon's top. Over a rough bridge they go, in crossing which several fell off and the legs and arms of the others swaying with the motion of tbe cart. "One of the most heartrending experiences of my prison life relates to the Florence confederate prison. After our parole while we were at the Annapolis hospital, one afternoon a mother and a daughter came to inquire after their son and brother. 'You area Michigan man,' said the mother to a cavalry man 'my son belonged to tbe Sixth Michigan Infantry. Can you tell me anything about him?' 'Yes,' he replied, "'I knew him well. But he is dead. He was shot at Florence on January 20th, for hanging his blanket on the dead- line.' I myself remembered the murder well. I was standing within a few feet of Charlie when he fell. I ran to pick him up. A guard said, 'touch him if you dare, and I'll put a ball through you.' I had to stand by and see him die before me. At every gasp of breath tbe dying bov'e mouth filled with sand in which ne lay writhing. Do you think we can ever forget or forgive these things

Crossing the Atlantic In the Air. Interview with Aeronaut Coiwell. Asked his opinion as to the worth of certain unfulfilled promises on the part of American aeronants, Mr. Coxwell remarked: "I never pay much regard to these stories of Yankee origiu—they are generally so outrageous as to be beyond belief. But," he went on, "SB to the crossing of the Atlantic in a balloon, I think it possible. I am not, as were the American aeronauts to whom you refer, a believer in the existence of a current at two miles high which would carry the balloon across the ocean I disproved that notion at the time it was so persistently propagated, for I showed that uj^ to two miles there existed uniformity, and that if any preference at all was distinguishable on the part of the wind, it was in the direction of north to south, instead ol from west to east. Still, if the requisite amount of money was available, I hold the_ feat of crossing the Atlantic iB possible. I would, however, have no sensationalism attached to the attempt the ridiculous part of the American Echemes has been the advertised determination depart on a fixed day. If I were to undertake tbe enterprise I would get a large, sound silk balloon, equip it carefully, and choose a proper moment for departure, changing the time of sailing from dav to day if the conditions ol

in this portion of the polar basin is the atmosphere did not serve. I think alar elevation, it could be done." When at an earlier stage of the conversation Mr. Coxwell was asked, "How long can gas be retained in a balloon?" he had replied, "No balloon has ever gone over a second sunset. I will tell you why," he went on. "The moment the sun goes down the gas condenses and you get through the night better tban the day. But the next day, in the presence of tbe sun, the g.i8 expands and you mount to great elevations, but every mount the balloon makes cripples its power and it is only a question of hours, if not minutes, how long you can keep up. It is tbe loss of the eternal 'king of day' which is tbe mischief. If an aeronaut

undergoing a slow secular elevation, just as in other places i. is sinking, in the course of a century or two the Arctic navigator may find in that di rection something worthy of a flag and an entry on his chart. .,

A Belated Sentry.

Irish Times. Only the other day, it seems, a sentry post qt the government offices in St. James park was discontinued, after some twenty years of needless vigilance. Some time about 1864 a military commission sat in aback building abutting on the park. In order to mark the solemnity of the occasion they clapped a member of the rank and fileupon the entrance, which was thus held at tbe point of the bayonet from 10 till 4 o'olock. Tbe commission accomplished its work, which was, no doubt, to draw up a report, which was relegated, as such documents are, to tbe pigeon-holes of the department meving in the matter. Anyway, the commission disappeared, but the sentry remained.

could have forty-eight hours of night he could travel a great distance." Mr. Coxwell bad also mentioned that the highest rate of speed be bad ever attained, even with a strong wiad blowing, w$B eighty miles an hour.

English Inhumanity, p.-*

London Truth. I have seldom read of so gross a case of cowardly inhumanity as that which came to light at an inquest at Wye a few days ago. A party of men had been drinking together, and one of them made a wsger that he would swim across the river Stour. The man, it appears, was drunk, and promptly began to drown. A stranger tried to rescue him, but without success while the ruffian who had made the wager remarked that "the fellow meant to drown and drowned he consequently was before the eyes of the whole party, who then returned to the public-house for "another glass." The coroner's jury had to content themselves with censuring the inhuman conduct of the men, who certainly have good reason to rejoice that the law accepts the distinction drawn fn Clough's "New Decalogue"

Than shalt not kill, bat need's! not strive Officiutuly to keep alive.

Tbe Jallor'e PerqniBites.

London Keho. The following strange story is relat ed by the Dhubri correspondent of a Calcutta paper: Tbe Bengali jailor at Gauhati seems to have given offence to. a Marwaree in the station in connee tion with eome pecuniary that The Marwaree tortune out of the jailpcjsfimd uavo information to

the European superintendent of thR jail that things were not as they should b€. Ho WM fteked to sign &cbuv» and really did so. and on a search war rant being obtained, the native jailorr quarters were fonnd to be a very veritable depot for all tbe stolen goods in the station for many months past

But the remainder of the Btory ditJ. not end here, and though it may btermed a romance, the facts are worthy of more than newspaper record. It transpired tbat this Bengal jailor had to look to the safety of two old offenders, who were then undergoing long sentences of imprisonment in the jail! He would let them out after dark, to commit burglaries and thefts, and let them in again before daylight, pocketing the proceeds of all their doings during the night, and laying up the store which was afterwards so rudely broken into.

SCAKED BY SPOOKS.

The Remarkable Story of a Haunted Car on the Central Pacific*. Virginia (NST.) Chronicle. :g' --N

An item is going the rounds of the press about ghosts on the Central Pacific. About two years ago at Monticello, a station on that road, a band of robbers attacked Wells-Farxo's express car, which was valiantly defended bv Aaron Ross, a gigantic express messenger, known on all the railroad and stage lines. One of the robbers wae killed dead sure, and it was said that another crawled off and died somewhere. All the surviving brigands were captured and are now doing state service at the Carson prison.

When the express car which tha robbers attacked returned to Reno on the way to Sacramento to be repaired, it was dubbed "Fort Ross." It looked, as if it had an altercation with a shottower. The doors were closely per* forated with bullets and shots had gone through it in all other directions. When the car came back on the road it looked like new, but it was still the same old car. After a few days Ross noticed strange noises in it while he was making his run, altogether differ ent from the ordinary rattle of a car. Packages of express matter danced, about, occasionally giving him a hard* glove whack on the nose, while a box: would waltz up behind and hoist him vigorously.

This continued for some weeks, when Ross became very nervous and fidgety. He would face the devil in material form, but he didn't understand spooks at all. Every time he passed Monticello, where the robber was killed, tbe lights would go out as soon as the conductor cried "All aboard," and by no efiort of his could he light them until he arrived at the next station. During this time the car appeared filled tfith a lurid haze by which he could see that the two vapory forms were trying to open the express boxes and peek into packages. Once in a while he would, blaze at them with his revolver, but it was wasting powder the spooks went: on with their work. While standing at his desk one night, the train going forty miles an hour, he was seized ana thrown down by invisible assailants, and though a giant in strength, he was tossed about the car like a feather in & gale.

Ross said the car would run for miles without touching the track, then it would come down with a smash thatsent him to tbe floor. He would hear whistles for stations that were milea awav, and frequently there would be a hubbub as if the whole train had jumped the track. At last this ghoBt business worked upon the old man so that he trembled when he boarded his car, and he became so nervouB that he threw up a situation which had been obtained by years of faithful service and went to drive Wells-Fargo's de» livery wagon at Qgden. He was real* ly run out of a fine position by spooks*

HAND-SHAKING DESCRIBED.

How Character la Portrayed by a Very Foolish Social Custom. Paris Letter to London Truth.

This "thought-reading" (as the term is invented, I suppose I must UBO it) is not anew thing. It was, you may depend upon it, the origin of our handshaking custom. I am extremely sensitive to the state or degree of feeling betrayed in a hand-shake, and the manner in which I am impressed greatly affects my judgment of character. Frankness, shyness. cordlality, weakness of will, richness of temperament, decision, antipathy, jealousy, deceit, are revealed unconsciously in shaking hands. Irish Pat, when he meets a neighbor at a fair/ to whom he wants to sell a horse with a hidden vice, shakes hands blutyeringly, because he has an intuition" that if he were quite natural he would betray his design. An accomplished coquette drills her hand not to let out her secret hopes, fears or desires. A western American shakes hands with heartiness, and Wall street with the hesitancy that reveals double-minded-ness. The Scotch grasp of the hand, in common with that of the Irish peasant, 'squire, lady or country girl, is very cordial. The virtue of sociability iB chiefly expressed in. the Celtic handshake, unless when a courtship is going on or a tender passion merely felt. I think I could tell blindfold whether a Swiss, German, Fren h, English, Scotch or Irish person shakiag hands with me.

The Scotch hand-grasp is the roughest the Frenchman shakes hands with the tips of stiffened and drawn together fingers, which signifies tbat he walla himself round with politeness as with a fortress, to keep on intruders. Never expect anything of a person who shakes a soft hand in a limp way. I have had wide experience of false cordiality, which was betrayed by "old soldiers," who, in battering through hotels and boarding houses, have lost all womanhood, by hardened diplomatist* by persons thankful for past fawwand hoping for favors to cojmej and by exhibitors at universal exhibitions wanting pufis. An Italian, who, in all cases, tries to hide bis little game, hates to offer hiB hand. To avoid doing so when he meets an Englishman, he rubs both his hands slowly together, as if washing them. An enthusiast about ideas, principles and systems rarely puts cordiality into a hand-shake.

Coal In Australia.,

Philadelphia Ledger.

In 1883 the total output of the New South Wales colleries exceeded 2,500,000 tons, the exact figures—2,521,457 tons 100 weight—beiDg 412,175 tons in excess of the output for 1882. The average price per ton in 1883 being 9s. O.-lOd., as against 8s, 11.97d. per ton in 18S2. A large quantity of coal is annually exported, even to England, and tbe inferior kinds in the inland districts are .said to be quite as well fitted for immediate local use as a greatmany coals worked in Great Britain, France, United States of America and elsewhere, and to be especially suitable for smelting purposes.

Lumber In the South.

Cleveland Leader. There is no liner poplar in the country than tbe yellow poplar lumber of Kentucky. It is straight and free from knots and you get boards from two to four feet wide, without a flaw. Great quantities of it a*e now being used for building and finishing lumber, and it is being shipped all over the north. The Georgia pine is another kind of lumber which has lately come into use, and this makes a rich and beautiful finish. There is a great amount of it in the south, and it brings good prices. It is hard as oak and takes a beautiful polish.

The Lotus Dlsconered. Ifhe veritable lotus of the Nile gbowa in Louisiana. A pond near Opelousas is covered with the umbrella shaped leaves of the plant "Visit the place early in the morning," says a corres^ pondent,' whf-n the stateJyflos^ffanfold their large white petal*, aBd the purple tint* the closed buds brighten £ntn mte under the rays of the rising sun, and you will reach the very heart of the Hindoo conceit which pictured the dawn as a yOung boy sitting 'on the flushed boeotu of a lotus flower."