Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 5 July 1885 — Page 3

.eeii

IWETRY

1:"- *,

.aaa, ___ think Jfot. ^TL'hink nOt, because the eyS is bright SfflAad styles are langhing there, ""^be heart that Beits within is light S grief andcafe. I T)|£ «6o i&iiy

Think not,because the lfcie may Bat woras to fill the hotfr, The love that claimed, reply is .weak

And passed, like April shower The lightning's strokean oak may pierce, And bam its heati away, Yet lfeafleta, growing strong and fierce,

A seeming like betray.

There's not a heath, howerer rude, Bat. hath some Httle'fiower jjsQs? To brighten np ita solitude

And eeect the evening hour •. There's not a hearty, howener cast By grief and sorrow down, r„ But hath some mem'ry in the past,

To love and call its own. VV HI/ Qaeen.

11know

a qneen who sat upon a the- uo Ne'er queen has reigned before

sweetly

fair Vj I Dpon her regal head she wears a crown, 'ho diadem of hearenly.gifece rests there.

The poet chants the glories of the dawn, The grandeur of the eve, the calm of night I» sings of dewy wood amd daisied lawn,

lore the beauties which ,the wodd adorn Not Wes, although I'sing a fairer sight cheek whose glowing bloom outrivals morn, Her starry eyes outvie th« gems of night.

ight royally she reigns, this despot queen, And tremblingly we bow before the throne {ere is the .kingdom of the heart, I ween,

Her- scepter' smiles, a prison cell her frown.

triay •fair,

ghB'reign our* sovereign, pure and

iweet ruler of a kingdom though unseen, the co iieg to rob us of \iur gentle qneen

may death,

qu^^ ffai

conqueror, tarry ere-

—[J».

Wabbjsj? Pease. PfU

O N

M'l

eV'

feM,

.,A LOVE STORY. Vkjp -1 um®. tBi i^y fcARS. OI/IPHANT.

44-

t%y, si)

CHAPTER XIII.

was perhaps well, on the whole, for comfort of all the party, itiat "tkm had behaved so very badly on 1st announcement of this news. His etrayal put him on his guard. It |led him to a sense of needful revint, and 'that the Mitfords were not, «r all,'people to L) treated with con*jtpt. He was very serious, and someflit stiff during the luncheon, which sufficiently trying to ail the party,

he was not uncivil. Of John he took taotice at all after tlie first formal ignition, but to Mrs. Mitford and the tor he

WHS

stifdiously polite, making

ra little speeches of formal gratitude, find n»y child perfectly. recovered,. l\lrs t" -your kind care," he said. "I ij never'sufficiently express my deep if S 'Jf^se of obligation to you." Thi^ speech uf'wled up an angry flush on. John's cheek, it not word was spoken by any of the irty iuiply that tlrere ,,was any rdnger bond tlian jhal. of kindness be-

Jtween Kate and the people who had been 'so good* to her. The two young people

x£were

madg to f#el that they were seoond-

iviaty gJtOj^Jlher. The thoughts of their Jelders might,' indeed," lie occupied about f°them, but they then shelves were struck jiOUt Of

the front of the action, and rele-

^'qgated to their natural place. Mr. Gredi•foti carried) this t'o far- that, when lunchVwJh was of or, he turned to Dr. Mitford 'kntl asked.to speak with him, altogether ijj Ignoring the existence of Dr. Mitford's

son. But Jobn had risen, and had ttken matters into his own hinds "May I ask you to see me first, Mr. Crediton''" he said. "There are some things of .which I am most anxious to speak to you at once."

Mr. Crediton rose too and made John a little formal bow.- "I am at your Service," hfe said and Dr. Mitford stood up, looking somewhat scared, and listened, no doubt feeling hitnself, in his turn,

"I- inust not interfere," fie^aaid, vith a kind of ghastly smile, "and I take responsibility is what my son is going to '.but if .you "will both come tA my

iW 25,» should prefer speaking to Mr. CrediJW'alone," said John. And then it tm that hjs father shrunk like a pon| jBt, ahd^ave way to the real hero sltnation. Mrs." Mitford shrunk oiogin ber husband!s involuntary ire and Johh marched boldly out, ing Ibe way, while, Mr. Crediton folded, and the doctor went after them, jgging his shoulders with a faint asiption of indifierence. It seemed as

OXD6 magician had waved a wand, and three gentlemen disappeared out of te room, leaving Mrs. Mitford and Kate Miking at each other. And there they sat alfstupid, with their hearts'beating, till ervis came in to clear the table, and lookat them a? a good servant looks, with ^suspicions,watchful eyes, as if

sto

say,

is it all. about, and what do you by H, sitting there -after your meal to un-

It. mi.auuui, nuntu

jaean by H, sitting there -after your over, and giving yourselves up I timely agitations, disturbing me?

Mrs

Mitford obeyed that look as a welljrongbt »rp woman alwaysdoes.*TShe said. *Come, Kate! what can you and 1 be thinking of?" fcnd led the way into the 1 rawing room, She did {his with an iSBumptioo of liveliness and light-heart-whicli was overdoing ber part' S'We need not ^ake the servants ^nto our confidence, at least," she (Said, sitting down by her work•table, and taking onf^her knitting as •iiaaal. But it was a very tremulous bus iness, and soon the needle droned upon her knee. Kate, too, attempted to resume the piece of worsted work she had been jMoing, and to look as if tiothing had happened' but her attempt was even more futile. When they had sat in this way silent for some five minutes, the girl's agitation got the better of her. She threw the vfork aside, and ran and threw herfeelf at Mrs. Mitfonl's feet." "Oh, mamma, say something to me!"' she cried "I feel

SB if I could not breathe And I never %wi any mother of my own. Tben John's mother lost the composure for which, she had been struggling.' Her Vleart was not softened to Kate personally all the trouble which

at that, clinfax of Kate had: toodgh upon her, but she could not resist such an appeal and she. ,t«Q, conld scarcely bieathe, and wanted amonshit) in her trouble. It was to take into ber heart the girl who

was the occasion of it all but i. Mi the first

Sate fell natand

was suffer^ too. Mrs. Mitford a-crginp uraS'

Katei lowe

tinge the darkest cloud

Ebi lUy'sUstheainjs depart,, Am underneath the. sunniest smile Stay

\her feelings, softly

Uy on

#.* to be taken posses-

sion 5 \B^ey were just beginning to tatlkiMSi other, to open their hearts, and ttRer into all those mutual explanations which women love, when Kate's quick youthful eyes' caught sight of two ulack figures in the distance among the trees* on the other side of the blazing summer lawn. She broke ofi in the middle of a sentence, and "gave a lojv cry, and hutched at Mrs. Mitford's gown. "They are there!" cried Kate, with a grasp of indescribable suspense. And Mrs. Mitford, when she saw them, began to cty softly again. "Oh, what is he saying to my boy?" cried the agitated woman, wringing her hands. To see -the discussion goibg on before their eyes gav thfe laste touch of the intolerable to theiir anxiety.

Ob, Kate, I am a bad woman!" said Mrs."Mitford "I coyld hate you and I conid hate yoiir .father-, for bringing all this trouble on my John."

!'l

don't wonder," cried Kate, in her passion and then she made an effort to. Conquer herself. "Papa Cab net eat him," Jhe added, with a little harsh laugh of emotion. "I have had the worst of it. He. will never say to John what he said to me." •t-.- VK "What did he say to you?" "Oh, nothing!" she cried, recollecticfg herself. "He is my own papa he has a right to say what he likes'to me. It is John who is speaking n§w —that is a good sign. And when he chooses, and takes the trouble, John can speak so well he is so clever. I never meant to have .let Mm do all this, and giVe everybody so much'trouble: but whph-he begata to talk like (hat,

what was I to do

"Oh, Kate!" cried the mother, with her 6yes full of" tears, we are so selfish— we never thought of that! How were you to resist, him more than the' rest of us? My dear boy—he had always'such a winning way!" "John is speaking still," said Kate."Mamma, I think things must be coming round. There—papa has pttt his hand on his arm. When he does that he is begining ,to give in. Oh, if we could only near what they say 1" "He is so earnest in all he does," said Mrs. Mitford. "Kate! listen to what I am going to. say to you. If this ever comes to anything— "Of course it will come to something," cried Kate, "lam not so good as John. If papa were to stand out, I should just wait till I was one-and-twentv and then, if John pleased— Now they are turning back again. Oh, will they never be done? It is just like men, walking, talking and t*lklri£forgery^ and as poof women waiting herec'"But, Kate» listen me," said Mrs. Mitford, solemnly "if it ever comes to anything you must be very, very careful with my John. Look at his dear face, how it shines with- feeling! He loves youso-'-he would put himself under your father's feet. I feel as if I could tell youJ the very words he is saying. And you— you have been brought Up so differently. If you were tempted to be careless, and forget his ways of thinking, and prefer society and the world—" "I see how it is," said Kate, with a mournful cadence in her voice—she did not turn her head, for her eyes were still intently fixed on the distant figures out of doors "I see how it is—you don think I am the right girl for John." "I did not say so," said- Mrs. Mitford, humbly "how can I tell? I can't divine what is in my own boy's heart, and how how can I divine yours? But I will love you for his sake. Oh, Kate!" if you are good to him—"

Here the conversation Came to a sudden pause for the two who were outside were seen to turn in the direction of Dr. Mitford's study, and to enter the house which made the crisis come nearer, as it were. Neither of the two ladies could have told how the afternoon passed Every sound that went through the house seemed to them significant. Sometimes a door would open Or shut, and paralyze them for the moment. Sometimes a sound as of a single step would be heard in one of-the passages, and then Mrs." Mitford and Kate would rise up and flush crimson, aud listen as if they had not been listening all the time. "Now they faring!" one or the other would say,

vvitlfiigasi, for the waiting affected their very breatning. Except op these conditions, they scarcely exohanged two words in half an hour. Fiom time to time Kate looked at her watch, and made a remark under her breath about ihe hour. '"It is too late for the four o'clock train," she said and then it was too late for the mail at half past five and all this time not a word came of the stillness to relieve their anxiety. The bees bussed about the garden, and the sun shone as if he never could weary of shining, and blazed across the monotonous lawn and vacant paths, which no step or shadow disturbed. Oh, the burden of the silence that lay upon that whole smiling world outside, where not even a leaf would move, so eager was nature to have the first word of the secret! Wlien Mrs. Mitff -d's needles clicked in her tremulousnef late glanced up with eyesof feverish re L/&ch: and when Kate's scissors fell, tb ^room echoed with the sound, and M'rs/Mitford felt it an injury. Thus the long,' weary, languid afternoon passed on. When Jervis began to stir with his preparations for dinner, and to move about his pantry, with clink and clang of glass and .silver, laying the table, the sounds were to them like the return of a jury into their box to the anxious wretches waiting for their verdict. Dinner was coming, that augustest of modern cercmonieSj and the ladies felt instinctively that things must now come to a decision.

And accordingly, it was just after Jervis had carried his echoing tray out of the pantry to the side-board when the door of the study at last opened, and steps were heaxd comipg solemn along the passage— Dr. Mitford's steps, crtaking

.iHe

as they

which Kate

came, and another footstep, knew to be her father's. Not John! The ladies sat both upright, anefgrew red and grew pale, and felt the blood tingle to their finger-points. And then they looked at each other, and asked silently," "Where has he gone?"

This time it was no longer the jurymen. It was the judge himself, coming solemn with his verdict. The gentlemen came into the room one behind the other, Mr. Crediton looking worn and' tired, and even Dr. Mitford's white tie grown limp with suspense and emotion. But it was he who was the first to speak. "I am sorry to have left you so long by yourselves*," he said, with a little air of attempted jauntiness, which sat very strangely on him, "and to, have kept Mr. Crediton. away from you bnt we had a great deal to talk over, and business, you .know, must* be attended to. My dear, it was busiAfess of a .very momentous kind. And now, Miss Kate," said the rector, turning upon her, and holding out both his hands—he smiled, but his smile was very ump, like his tie, and even' his hands, though not. expressive generally, trembled a little—"now,. Miss Kate, for the first time I feel at liberty to speak to yeu. You must havejthought me very hard and cold the other night bnt now I have your father's permission to bid you welcome to my family," Dr. Mitford went on, smiling a ghastly smile and he stooped over her and kiseet her forehead, and. held her hands waving them up and down as if he die. not know what to do with them. "I don't know why my son has not come to be ibe tirst to tell you. Everything settled at last." "Where is Jojuj Mitford

with ter soft cheeks blazing And her insband dropped-Kate's hands as if tbey had burned him, .find they all paused and looked at each other witti an endjarrassment and restraint which nobody coirid diskuise.

j35

do him justice, I don't think he

fplt himself equal to a grand .tableau of family union Wild rapture," said Mr. Crediton. ''Mrs. Mitford, I don't pretend to be overjoyed. I don't see why we should make any pretenses about it. They have done a very foolish thing, and probably they will repent of it—"

But this was more than

Ur flnwlit/in "fnrtniiatelv it must said Mr. Crediton "fortunately it must be along time before anything comes of it. Your son seems to have quite relinquished the thought of going into the church." "Have y&u settled that too?—is it all lecided Oh, Xr. Mitford, yoU, have een hasty with him!" cried John's mother. "I told you if you iWuld but take tiine enough, and go iftto .things with him, and explain—" "I don't thing explaining would have done much good/' said Mr. Crediton "It rarely does, when a young fellow has got such an idea into his head. The only thing is, that when a boy changes once he may change twice—when he is older, and this fever-fit perhaps may be over—" "Oh, can you sit dnd hear this?" cried Kate springing*to her feet. "Oh, papa, how can yOu be sO wicked and so rude? Do yoti think John is like that—to take, a fancy and give It OVer? And you are his mother, and know him best, and-you leave him to be defended, by me!" "Kate, my deaf!" cried Mrs. Mitford, hastening to. her, "you make me hate myself. You understand my boy—you stand up for him when,his otfn flesh and blood is silent. And I love you with all my heart! And I will never never grudge him tojcou again!"

And the two women nished mto each other's arms, and clung together in a pas--sion of tears and mutual consolation while the men, for their part, looked grimly on, vanquished, yet fining a certain satisfaction in their sense of superiority to any such folly. Mr. Credltoir sat down, with the bard unsympathetic self-possession of a man who Has still a blow to deliver and poor Dr. Mitford walked up and down the room, aware of what was yet to come. But.' in the mean time the victims over whom the stroke was lowering had delivered themselves all at once from their special misery. The ice had broken between them. John, who had' divided them, became all at one their bond of Union. "Mamma, if you will stand by me I can do anything," Kate whispered, with her lips upon Mrs. Mitford's cheek., "My own child!" John's mother whispered in reply a,nd thus the treaty was made which was to set all other diplomacies at nought.

I think it is a great pity," said Mr. Crediton again, "but of course, in the turn that circumstances have taken, I must help as best I can. It is not very much I can do, for you are aware when a young man changes his profession all in a minute, it is a difficult thing to provide for him And he did not seem to have any clear idea what to do with himself Probably you will feel it is" not

equal to your son's pretensions,-Mrs. Mitford—but I have offeri^ him a clerkship

in my bank." "A clerkship In your bank!" cried Mrs. Mitford, petrified. She withdrew a little from Kate in her consternation, and sat down and gazed, trying to take in and understand this extraordinary piece of hews. "Papa, you cannot mean, it," cried Kate, vehemently. "OE, are you papa,1 or somebody come to mock us? A clerkship in the bank—for Dr. Mitford's son —for—John!" "John is po doubt possessed of many attractions," said Mr. Crediton, in his hardest tones, "but I am only an ordinary mortal, and I cannot make him prime minister. When a man throws himself out of his proper occupation he must take what he can get. And he has accepted my offer, Kate. He is not so high-flown as you are, and I can.assure you a man may do worse than be a clerk in my bank." "It-is a most honorable introduction to~ commerce," said Dr. Mitford, coming forward very limp and conciliatorv "and commerce, as I have often said, is the great power of the nineteenth century.

My dear, it is not what we expected—of course it is very different from what we expected but if I put up with it— It cannot be such a disappointment to you as it is to me."

Mrs. Mitford turned-away with an impatient cry. Her very sense'of decorum ailed her. Though she had kept up the tradition of her husband's superiority so long that she actually believed in it, yet on tnis point he was not superior. She was driven even out of politeness, the last stropghold of a well-bred woman. She could not be civil to the man who had outraged her pride and all her hopes. She sata nd moaned and rocked herself, sayinf, "My boy! my boy!" in a voice of deep despair. "He is saying it only to try us," cried Kate. "He is not cruel. Papa, you have always been so good to me Oh, he does not mean it. It is soly—some frightful —jeke or perhaps. Papa, you don't mean what you say "I do mean what I say," said Mr, Credition, abruptly "and when I say so, 1 think I may congratulate both Mrs. Mitford and myself, that, whatever foolish thing our children may mike up their minds to do, they tsannot do it very soon. We have had enough of this nonsense for the present, Kate. Dr.. Mitford is so kind as to ask us to stop for dinner. We must wait now for the nine o'clock train.

And just then, Jervis, curious but unenlightened, rang' the first bell. And what are Ml the passions and all the struggles of the heart compared to Din ner, invincible potentate? Mrs. Mitford and Kate gathered themselves together meekly at the sound of that summons. Against it they did not dare to remonstrate. They gave each other a silent kiss as they parted at the door of Ka^'s room, but they could not resist nor tnfle with such a stern necessity. "Where was John?" they rsked themselves, a£ each stood before her glass, trying as best she colild to clear away the trace of tears, and to hide from their own eyes and from the sharp"eyes of the servants all signs of the crisis they had Iteen .going through. Kate had to retain ber morning drees, as she had still a journey before her but she was elabo rate about ber hut, by way. of dsmott

iSiSfflS. Jfr, r-

starting her put off till the nine is so tiresome of bam, making one go down to dinner like a fright,'" she said to Parsons, trying to throw dust in the eyes of that astqte young wbman. As if Parsons did not knoK!

John'smother

could bear. "One of them, I am sure, will never have any reason to repent of it," she said, with irrepressible heat, not thinking of the double .meaning that her words might bear. .. "I hope it may be so," Mr. Crediton said, and- shook his head. And there was agaik a silence and Kate sat with all her veins-8welling as if they wottld burst, and her heart beating in her very throat, and nobody taking any further notice pf her. What was it to any of them in comparison, with What it *as to her? and yet nobody even looked at her. It seemed so titterly incredible, that for the moment she was stunned and dumb and capable of nothing biit amazement. "No," said her father again, after a pause "I doii't pretend to be overjoyed. We have had a great deal of talk, and the talk has not been agreeable. And, Mrs. Mitford, if .1 am to judge by your looks, I should say you were" no more thought of losing your sonlosing my daughter—in so foolish a way." "Let us hope it may turn out better than we think," said Dr. Mitford and then Came the inevitable pause, which m4de every senteitce sound so harsh and clear. "There is certainly room for hope,'

for John, he ha| been wai about stupefied ever since that amazing conclusion had been come to, in such a state of confusion that he could not realize -.what had happened. Kate was to be his. That was the great matter which had been decided upon. But notwithstanding his passionate love for Kate, this was not what bulked largest in his mind. The World somehow had turned a somersault with* him, and he could not make out whether he had lighted on solid earth again, or- was still whirling in the dizzy air. His past life had all shrivelled away from him as if it had never been.. His sensations .were, those of man who has rolled over 'some tremendous precipice or who wakes otiV Of a swoon to fina himself lying on somt! battle-field. He wac very sore and batj tered and beatfen, tingling aU Over with bruises atld die ^relative pOsitiou of "the world, and everything in it, to himself was chahged. It might be the same sky and the same soil to others, but to him everything was different. Kate was to be his but that Was in thfe ftitute And for the present he wis to begin^ life, not in any noble way for the service of others, but as,*a clerk in Mr. Crediton's bank.' ,r i-

To be bontinued in the SiJnday Exprets.] 1 A COMlfeG CRtESUS.

Mayor Grace, of Xew York", and His Present Possessions and B^ospectp^-^. New York Letter.

Let trie shoW you the biggest millionaire of twenty years hence. Bis stature is low he has no port wliatevetj and hie face is not strong enough to dpminatfe the glasses which straddle his nose. He used to be pointed out in the down-town district of shipping and importing business as one possessing three millions, years ago, such a comment would have commanded instant wide-moutbed attention to the subject" of it,for ih this whole land only John Jacob Astor had acquired so much wealth as that but in these times of King Croesus the millionaires have multiplied until it is to be apprehended We will come to look upon them as no better than other people. Therefore, when anybody said: "There goes Bill- Grace—he's worth three millions the reply, accompanied by a careless glance at the mail. Was apt to be: •"Ah, how did he make it?" It would then be explained thathfe Was engaged in the South "American shipping trade, at which he had been successful, as the head of the firm-of William J. Grace & Co. He had spent most of his time for fifteen years in Brazil, and that was why New Yorkers knew nothing oi him. One municipal, campaign Tammany wished to nominate a solid business man for mayor. John K,elly said that none of the ^politicians would answer the purpose. Grace was mentioned as available. A committee, was sent to him. He Hnswered that above •all things he would be delighted to be mayor of New York, but that he would take a nomination only under the positive understanding that he should not be bound to do anything for politics or politicians if elected. That was the kind of talk which Kelly liked to have the public hear. He did not for an Instant Imagine that it meant anything more. Grace was put up. He spent more money than any candidate for the same office- had ever before disbursed. But the strikers and heelers got. very little of it. The enormous expenses were chiefly those of mass-meetings, banners, circulars mailed to every residence in town, and column after column in the advertising space of newspapers. All these judiciously-bot^gbt facilities for

powers.

point is that Grace is cold bloodl out any furensic ability or a jot' netic companionship but he si have made up his mind to get name a» mayor, and I guess he

ifS

ion. "Pa^a h^i train -ana it

mag\s to

What set me to writing of Mayor Grace was the news that he had bought

Some lovely wide garden hats have been made of plaited gauze over net frames, with satin ribboil arid Marabout feathers wr trimming.

Small necklets of plaited silk crepe, pink, cream blue, lilac or red, with a small pompon to match at Uie side are most fashionable for dressy toilets.

White ribbons are used for panels as well as sashes, and also across the front

of dresses, but for sashes more especially, the very long ones reaching nearly to t"

bottom of the skirt.

Boys

«r

tiTjfc, strNDAY, JULY

SttOBT-LITEl) ROMANCE.

"My hajmiiis John Jzcksot\. Soon after leaving college I secured a position on a great citv-daily and without possessing any brilliant qualities as writer, but by a c^uiet devotion to the systematic business of news-galnering. ectin sible to make my services valuable.

Several years passed by, and I still retained my position on the Daily Enlightener, and was as much wrapped up as ever- in my professiop. This close devotion to business began to tell on my health, and I grew quite paler *nd haggard. So it happened that Mr. Brown, the managing editor, said to me one day towfttd the latter part of June: on't you think you ought to have a little reft, Jackson? Suppose you tike a run into the country for a feW weeks."

The place 1 selected at which to spend fiiy vacation was 4 charming mountain lake, much famed foF the remarkable beauty of its segpery, and which had theadvantage of being easy of- access, as well as much more quiet than the. ultra-faslt iOnable resorts

It was with something of the happiness of a boy let out from school that I found myself on the train bearing me away from the stifling heat of the city, with its glare, its dust and its clatter, into the cool, green Country,»whose calm beautv, as I saw it even from the car Window, geemedalmp8t like, a-new revelation to "me after the years I had spent in the great Babel of humanity, with' no landscape save glaring streets and towering piles of brick and stone, except for an occasional glimpse of the trim-kept parks, which ate btit poor substitutes for the real country.

But 'this vacatioh of mine is chiefly memorable from the fact that it resulted in the first and only romance of my life. It is by no means a thrilling story I have to tell. I do not pese as a tragic hero, or indeed a here of any kind. My romance, such aS it is, is only a very common-place sort of romance, as'suits such a very com-mon-place individual. journey was not a long one. The next morning after leaving the city I found myrelf at the iittle way station, awaiting the stage iide of a few miles to my destination.

It took me only a few-seconds to observe that she was really very pretty, with a petite figure, a profusion of dark-brown hair, large hazel eyes, and a "delicate pale complexion. She was evidently alone and peiplexed, so I inquired if I conld be of any servipe.

She blushed and said: "If yoil would be' so kind as to assist- me to an outside seat. I cannot bear to be shut up in that stuffy 8tagfe." "Nothing would give me greater pleasure," I said, and so soon had her fixed in a desirable place, finding myself a seat by her- side. Of -course that was the^end of

reaching the minis of~!boughtful Voters !.all conventionality, and we were soon were -utilized to the utmost. They chatting with the freedom of old- approved potent, too, and Grace bf^me quaintances as the stage bowled along the mayOr. Then he astounded Tamtuany mountain road. by sticking to his word in the matter of i- I learned in the course of our talk that patreffiage. At that time his office was she had just fihished her term at a well hamptSed by the common council, and he known female college, and Was on her way could accomplish no more th&n to coil- to the Mountain house (the same hojel I vitice the public that lie would reform had selected for myself), to join her parthings if be could. He is now in his sec- ents. This ipt piece of intelligence, was ond term, with anew law affording him quite gratifying to me. almost unlimited powers. 'iW: Hons I We bowled along under the s^le of tith- many a towering height, mterspeised with picturesque gorges and dingles,

with picturesque gorges and dingles, whilr blossoming wild flowers added the chaVm of their delicate coloring to the bright green of the verdure.

the South American railroad, famous for sisters When I finally ste/ped up to tit its zigzag climbing of the Audes In defi-(office counter I noticed tin name. Miss ance of engineering difficulties, and Laura May) New York, a^ delicate having been built for the Brazilian jjov- ~"vs~1" ernment by Harry Meiggs, the. 9ted California adventurer. This wife- take Grace a rival of Vanderbilt in taue witbin twenty years. He gets tlrl pmpleted portion of the line, ,together^|,pi a slice of the richest silver tract in the world, for nothing at all, provided be will complete the line to that region.The property has already cost $27,000,000, and is worth it, or will, be when the entire route is done. He will have to invest $10,000,000 in the additional work, and this he can do without letting in any partners.

Fashion Notes. ..

This summer yellow predominates in the way of color, but the tints and shades are endless.

The Jersey is now only worn of a morning, and isquite discarded for dressy and elegant toilets. ..

White canvas having stripes of color is most effective when made into a skirt with pure white drapery arranged over it.

Feathers are but little wprn this summer a few birds are to be seen, however, nesting here and there among the flowing bows of ribbons.

the

wear jackets plaited in the middle

of the froBt and back, and fastened much oarTand*

below the waist with wide be S»m«

11 4 aw v»nAltr lild It Ai m. fiVl

have the front only very finely plaited, so as to form a plastron, with a narrow revere fastened down on each side with a row of small buttons. Knickerbockers have come iuto fashion again, and boys wear them with various kinds of jackets up to ten or twelve years of age.

As a rule hats for the seaside, are eccentric and fantastical in the extreme, and those of the present season are even more extraordinary than we are accustomed to see them at this time of the year. The high conical crown is 'still further hightened by enormous loops of ribbon which shoot up behpnd the top of the hat, while an enormo\is cluster of field flowers, wheat-ears and grasses is posed in front.

Unglazed kid gloves, in various shades of buff, are still worn with all toilets. Fine thread gloves, however, are considered in good taste with washing dresses. They are worn very long, with open vork borders at the edge some have lace ends, embroidered with silk, matched in color to the trimming of the. dretw. Mittens are not much seen this summer they are not admitted in elegant tolleu, but oaly in %ulte neglig* dwtt.

B, less.

JgUl glCCU U. U1C -jjiP"" As we rumbled up to the hotel piaazapws range cat

saw my new friend welcomed by h« parents and several younger brothers ana

feminine hand, which Incorrectly sur mised to be the name of nly^charrtfer, she having in the meanthtoe been bornfroff in triumph by her joyous convoj.

I was delighted to find seated opposite Miss May at dinner,, and to receive a graceful bow and a wrightsmile as marks of recognition when sn$ took her place. I had thought her charming in her traveling dress, but she-was exquisitely beautiful in her robe of snowy muslin, with a simple bunch of reel rosebuds fastened -at her throat.

No society can be more free frftifi conventionality thtn that of .a pOpular resort, providing it. be not loo fashionable so it was not many days before I was on terms of the most delightful intimacy with Miss May, fitiding her a highly accomplished and altogether cnarming young woman. She sang divinely, played with the touch of a -master, and both-teketched and painted. -Of these last diversions she was particularly fond and I made myself useful-i» hunting up picturesque sp&ts for her, fixing her easel, and, lying on the grass, would read her some beautiful little poem or story while she wielded brush or pencil. Besides this, we danced together'at the hotel hops, took long drives, rambled along the mountain paths, and enjoyed many .a moonlight row on the lake.

I did not ask myself how all this would end. I did not even acknowledge to myself that I was in love, though very deeply in love I certainly was. A number 01.weeks went by in a blissful dream, and I had' begun to look forward with dread the necessity of leaving the spot which had oome to be a perfect Eden to me, when my fool's paradise was suddenly destroyed and thiR is the way it came about:

One evening Miss May and myself had 'v eone out-for a row on the lake. I had sn

.L-

let Yhe~boat~d~rIft

ghe ft tender

ballad and I

recited some line? trotu one of tne most

exquisite of Tennysan's early_ lyrics I dot

shaggy hair and beard leap aaho,jr6 and give orders to the porters in a loud and nether course voice. This, I surmised, was Harry, .and I afterward discovered that my conjectureS Weie correct. He is a. Very clever fellow,. I am told, tmt can say nothing of this from personal knowledge^ as I hadaio opportunity to cultivate his acquaintance. It was rather trying for me to see another take my place by the side of one to Whom I had conceived a real sttiactmttfit, sthd 1 was thankfnl that the limit. of my vacsrfiotf w*S near, so that I had an excuse of returning at once to the city..

BRIDAL*OMENS.

Superstitions About the Bates of StarrUgct. Brooklyn Eagle. "Oh, bless you, no, the wedding will not take place until early in June," said a society motttfcr in a chat With the fashion editor, who had touched on the subject of her daughter'* nuptials. "JBut it was suppled to be all iii^d for sn earlier date," said-the visitor. "So it was, a long time in advance," said the mother "but we discovered that the wadding would come in Lent, so we put it off." "Why?" "Because it was Lent. We couldn have a marriage in Lent, you know." "Why not? There is no law against marrying at any time, is there?'' "No but it would be bad luck." "Who says so? "Everybody. Why, it's as old aB the hills—that superstition. The young women of over a century ago used to say, "Harry in Lent, be sure to repeht "And the -young girls of this centurv keep on saying the same thing, it seems.' "Yes," said* the mother of the prospective bride, "it's a supeistition that one does not like to acknowledge, and yet no one wants to ran the risk of inviting bad luck by violating the rule."

The editress being started on the track of woman's superstitions in regard to mar* iages, made inquiries, and gathered a surprising number of them._

rffi Jsu

There »ere a number- oi passengers, and the stages, several in number, were about. ready' to start. These Were huge vehicles, of the fashion of the English mail-coach, with seats on top. As usual, most of the passengers' insisted on having outside seats, and there was a great deal of scrambling to gain a desirable place.

I had just selected a place for myself when I observed a prettji and fashionably dressed young lady Hfho was gating rnefully.toward the topof the stage and occassional^ signaling the conductor with her parasol. That functionary was engaged in attending to the wants of. an lingular elderly female, who was relating some fancied slight in a. loud and angry tone, so that the young lady soon abandoned the effort to attract his attention and stood looking up at the stage with an expression of almost childish petulance on ner face.

No .girl, for instance, is willing to make Friday her wedding day. Away back in the tragic times, the most of these maiden superstitions were traced. The Romans were' very superstitious about marrying in May and February. The 14th bas always been .considered in England peculiarly unlucky for brides. Why, tradition Sayeth not. In the Orkney Isles, the bride selects an evening for her wedding when theris is a full moon and a flowing tide. In Scotland, the^ast day of the year is considered lucky the bride's prospects in life ar# supposed to be brilliant.

Sunday is a great favorite with -brides in some parts of England and Ireland. The French demoiselle, however^ thinks the first Friday in the mopth particularly fortunate for her nuptials.

In Sweden the bride on her way back from churph has pieces of bread in ber pockets. These she throws away on her home to insure her good luck. It is illfortune to the one who picks up these crumbs. If the bride lose per slipper on her way from church she will lose all her troubles, and the one who picks it up will gain richer.

In every country it is an unhappy omen for the wedding to be put off when once the day has been fixed, and in England it is believed great misfortnne will ensue if a*bridegroom stand, if only for a moment, at the junction of cross-roads on his wedding morn. In England, also, it_ is thought a sign of bad luck if the bride fails to shed tears on her wedding-day, or if she turn back to take a last look at herself in her wedding toilet.

Among the English lasses it is bad luck for a bride to look back or go back when once she has started for the church, or to marry dressed in green,«or to let the ceremony go on while there is an open grave in the churchyard. When the bridesmaids* undress the bride they must be sure to throw away all the, pins, to make sure of good luck to themselves as well as for her. If a single pin be left in the bride's raiment, woe unto her. And-if a bridesmaid should keep one of them Bhe will not be married before Whitsuntide or the Easter following. Therefore bridesmaids in England are not given to preserving the pins from the bridal costumes. the bridal party venture-off the land they must go up stream, and the bride, to make certain of good luck, must, on the happy day wear "Something old and something new, something gold and ething blue." If she sees a on -. that day she it as an omen that very happy add if on the

ake

know but she feared that I was arrived for the opting of the theater, getting too sentimental, for she said to the company were much dishearteued me quite suddenly, after a pause: It, seemed during the long still hours of

..J *4 k'v, A 1 1L-4 Lam La] nl* A (AAI'D

"1 expect Harry to-morrow." "Indeed," I replied, "who is he^may I ask?" "Oh*, I thought I had mentioned him to you. He is my bethrothed. Of course you knew I was engaged," she said, holding up her hand, where a diamond sparkled in the moonlight.

The blow was so sudden that I was litterally stunned for an instant, but I finally found breath to say: "I suppose you will be very glad."

I felt sure that she had a suspicion of my feelings, though she pretended otherwise and chatted gaily, while I rowed slowly back to the hotel. I excused myself as we reached the house, lighted a cigar—the one solace for earthly ill—and went out on the hills to have "my dark hour alone." 1 slept little that uight, and pa» up almost with tbe dswn. 80 it happened that Very new anil elegai when the early lioat toticiied ai the hotel net showered with beads dock I hv biurljr yeuag TiUu with imtia m«rv»lil«a*.

of her wedding day she steps

from her bed on something higher than the floor, and then on something higher till, she will rise in the world from the time of her marriage. To make sure of this, the maiden has a chair and table at her bedside, and steps from one to the other on rising from her slumbers on her wedding morn. On leaving her home and on starting from the church to^return she is very careful to step out With her right foot first, and is careful not to address her husband after thejf^are wed without first calling him by_ his^ full name. The break of the wedding ring is a sign that the wearer .will soon be a widow.

And there are fifty others of the same sort which are shared by our young women, who carefully follow many of these -jnummeriesln the weddings of to-day, Though they be nineteenth century maids, and graduates of colleges of high standing, they are not proof against the superstitions of brides from time immemorial.

The First English Actors in America. From Dr. Egleston's Contribution to the July Century.

Twenty-fear plays had beep selected and cast before Lewis Hallara and his company left London on the "Charming Sally," no doubt a tobacco ship returning light for a cargo. On her unsteady deck day after day, during the long voyage, the actors dilligently rehearsed the'plays with which they proposed to cheer the hearts of the people of the New World. Williamsburg must'have been a disappointment to them. There were not mpre than a thousand people, white and black in the village. The buildings, except thecapitol, and tbe college, and the socalled "palace" of the governor, were insignificant and theie were^only about a dozen "gentlemen's" families resident in -the place. In the outskirts of the town a warehouse- wa& -fitted up I for a theater. The woods were all aboftt it, and the actors could shoot squirrels from the windows. When the time

the day that they had come on a fool's errand to act dramas in the woods. But as evening drew on, the whole scene changed like a work of magic. The roads leading into Williamsburg were thronged with out-of-date vehicles of every sort, driven by negroes and filled-with gaily dressed ladies, whose gallants rode on horseback alongside. The treasury was replenished, the theater was crowded,-and Shakespeare was acttd on'the continent probably for the first time by a trained and competent company. The "Merchant of

company.

enice'' and. Garrick's farce of,

"Lethe" were played and at theclofee the actors found themselves surrounded by groups of planters congratulating them, and, after the Virginia, fashion, op fering them the hospitality of their house*.

A Woman with faults.

Last April I met tie Orvllle sisters, two pretty young girls who boarded with my aunt Pretty "girls both of them were, and though very much alike in appearance, in disposition they were as different as it was possible for slstfra to be. Jenny, the eldest, was bright, vivacious, and exceedingly wild, while Violet.(I fell in Icrve with her name at once) was sweet, modesi mkI-retiring.

My room Was next tof'^eirs and consequently I learned more of them th'an I wouldq^fcrwise have done. And perhaps thiir^joanged the whle course of my life. /I

The soft, melting tya

let was devo

Violet had a

particntar charm for. me. I was soon quiet in love with her, and resolved that if I could win her affectiftnsl would make her my wile. The more I saw of her the more smitten JUbecame. I found it amusing to compare the two sisters—the oqe a perfect model of what a lady should be, and, strangely enough, th" jounger whiV""'?ie elder very often a

lee with hs.i

Ifcan, enore'de

practiced Jhalf the day, while Jen clared At was tiresome, and gavf disgust after two hours' practice ferring to read a novel or visit some place of amusement.

Every, day my admiration for Violet increased. She was a girl of excellent principles, bnt I inwardly pitied any man who would uoHr^iMnseH to her harum-scarum sister. I had never yet seen her in an earnest mood, and ber only ambition in life seemed to be to find" something tc amuse her.

I had decided to propose to Violef-one day, when something occurred to cjbange my course.

The door of the nexl room closing violently attracted my attention, and I heard Violet say: j# "Jenny, please don't makSso .much noiBe. Can't you shut the door easily There are other people in this house be.sidesyou." ""•f "I don't care, now that -it done, and

JC"And

"Isn't she pretty, Vi?" "Jenny, Jenny, how could you bring that filthy child here?" "Why, because I had strength enough to carry her." "But she's so dirty. Look at her face. Where did you find her "Down at the corner. Don't you think she's pretty?" J* "No, I don't" "Oh, Vi!. how can you say so.' has lovely eyes!" "Yes, but her face is dirty

There was a moment's silence, and 1 knew that Jenny wis looking reproach fully at her sister, *nd then she spoke the wordsvth»t formed the first link of the chain that* was to bind me to her. "Oh, Vi, how can you say that? Is there any deep laid joy in voUr heart that will leap into light at your bidding? You read and cultivate your mind, an in years to come when .sorrow bows head, you will look back and pay: have read until I ani wise. Aye, anj have read until I am wretcn My mind is a cultivated.garden, a joy to all who kuow me,- where man may pluck the choicest flowers of knowledge but my heart, that garden spot which God has given to me for my^wn individual pleasure—ah! that has been deserted. It is a wilderness which-1 have neglected, and now, while in all these years I have planted and tended a garden for others to reap, now that years have passed, I find my own garden desolate moorland.

Mv work has been in vain. I have pol-

My work has been in vain. 1 have pol ished a jewel to lighten the world, wnil I have left that which God has giyen me tq lighten my own life a cold, hard, lusterless stone, which sheds no light_ upon the soul within'." "Oh, nonsense!" cried Violet. "You may cry nonsense, but by-Hnd-by you will find it to be true. Let your leisure moments' be spent with children from them you learn the true joys of life and the happiness of pure and innocent love. Rather would I spend my last penny to make a child happy than go through the world with a loveless heart.

A little toy will brighten a child's eyes, and though its cost deprives-me of some luxury, it bestows on me a joy. Money spent in this way is not wasted, Violet with it, perhaps, I may have purchased a momentary pleasjire that will be forgotten in a short time, but behold the work of a .little deprivation for me and a joy for another. I buy a child a doll. I see its smile. I first purchase in this Way the child's attention then, by tenderness, I win its love. I go away and see that child no more. Has my money been wasted? Ah, no' some time in after years the thought of this babe returns to me. Somethin reminds me of her, a little apron such as she bad worn, a doll like the one I had purchased for her, some trivial thing, but whate'er it be it reaches forth a friendly hand, unlocking memory's door., takes from its hiding place a diadem ot love, glittering with a child's smile, her kiss, herjffhispered words of love, and the 'est of all these glitters her tears at has loved me! I jewel with the price five me a life of sacrifice and unselfishness, that it may not be loveless and joyless in the end, that when my parting hour may come I shall pot look back upon a desert life without a blossom or even a withered leaf. You may have the music and polished manner, but I shall always remain the faulty, know-nothing girl I am now. So come along, little one, and we'll buy our doll."

bt$ lest of all these gl: /g. Sornp one /purchased this jew 5* 4Soil.

nt dresses are of ^pd laid plain

No, Violet, 1

Once more the door slammed, land Jenny and her charge were gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my prayer: "May she always remain the faulty, know nothing girl she is. She knows all I wish her to know—the true secret of happiness." 1 changed my mind on that da^, and I shall never have cause to regret it.

Jenny is my wife, and though she may polish of society, stiff, her true .uo loving heart possesses a polish and luster that reflects back the love in mine and sheds light upon our path in life.

Tited up Jo that

what have yoa there?" cried

Violet

Can't yon see?

jd gracious!"

She

"mM

"Well, that can be washed.'.' "And her hair hasn't been combed for a week. W4i*Jw you going to do with her?" "Wash her and comb her bait first. Here, Vi, you hold her till I get th® warm water.* "Oh! take her-away! take her away You know I hate children." •'.Well, I don't I love them. I'm going to play with this child all afternoon, and then'we'll go and buy a nice big doll and take it home to show mamma, won't we, pet?" "But her mother will be worried." "I sent her liw ther home to let her know where was. So^ «i't take a fit, Vi. Now she's got a^iean face. Kiss me, pet!" •'Oh, Jenny! how can you kiss her? I believe you are crazy. You bad better be improving your mind with some good book instead of wasting your time and money with' a child like that. I must say your money can be put to better use than buying dolls tor strangers' children."

Traveling in 1700. "IKS'

From au illustrated paper on "Social Life is the Colooiw" in July Century. Tbe Virginia planter of the richer sort, who was said to live with wore show and luxuty "thai) ft ooB&try in

Eagland on an estate of tfttte or fowr thousand pounds a j^ear," showed *stfon« liking for tlfe stately six horse coach, With postilioru but it was not until 1720 th.tt wheeled carriages were recognized in thprice list of the Viiginia ferries. In th other colonies, also, the coach was valued as a sign of official or family dignity, and somo of the richer "Carolinians carried "their luxury so far as to havn carriages, horses, coachmen and all imported from England," but i» Carolina and everywhere north of Virginia, the lig^ open "chair", or' the covered chaise Was generally ferred. These were better suited to roughness and sinuosity of the roads the coach. The chaise was a kind of wheeled gig, having a top, and sometimes by one, and sometimes by«tw«A horses -the chair had two if heels, but no top the sulky, which wife much used, differed from the chair chiefly ^having room for but one persoji. All these seem to have beenhun^ori straps, ur fhoroughbraces, instead of springs. Boston 1 adieu in the middle of the eighteenth centunr toq^ the air in chaites or chtStr,

with

negro drivers. Boston gentlemen also affected negro attendants when they drove their chairs or rode on saddle lionesj$nt in rural regions, from Pennsylvania, northward, ladies took delight dv&ing about alone in open' ,tbe amazement of Euro- .... who deemed that a paradise in which women could travel without protection. Ptiladelphians'were foriu of a long, lf^ht, covered wagon, with b^Vches, which would carry a docett persons in aj^ excursion to the country. Sedan chairs were occasionally used

the .cities. The Dutch introduced sleighs into New "York at a very early date but sleighs for' pleasure, though known in Boston about 1700, ouly came into general use in the Northern provinces at ft somewhat' later period. wagon iri the colonies Trenton To New Brunsw^ during tfie summer of link in the teSious lan .-ne'y from Philadelphia travelers were promised

pw The first 8tr run fr

woulc

and covered"*'?

GRAND" HOTEL OF.LONDON.

The Crack I ondon Hotel te .Jailed the ""Grand"—Humrfiig Should be-Add®d—It in

the Most Pretentions Take-Im in Th»l tPugre City. «A New York ^pntleman «ho stopped there writes to the New Yor^Times: I was inducec^^«CJwnm«ri&it.afipiflnd-te" stop at tlic Grand hotel in London. I had hardly registered my name before I had placed in my harftis a printed sheet giving a list" of permissions an" prohibitions in other Words, I WW warned of th ^gs I might and jiight n^ dq. There was not the slighti of the voluntary^Wer to from any person* connected house. All inquiries were answerel™-^ half surly, but business like maniWM^/, which olearlv made one understand

clearly made one understana

that for each question answered so ^^jmany pence would be -expected upon departure.

The shortcomings of the cuisine weresimply beyond ordinary powers of description. Certain names of dishes appeared upon the bill of fare wni?^.were old acquaintances so far as the printed 3frt was concerned, but when they were placed befoffe me I failed completely to recognize anything I had ever seen before. There was a great display of china, glass, and cutlery, but nothing else. All the dishes were served with infinitesimal mites, peculiarly and over seasoned, fit for none other than a British copperfastened stomach. My first meal was a dinner in every particular as execrable as possible, but the wine I ordered that day was worse than the dinner. It purported to be a table claret at four shillings a bottle it turned out to be a verr thick, dark purple concoction, which must have been jpanufactured in the cellar ef the hotel. The next day I ordered no wine, and an attempt, which I successfully resisted, was made to. charge sixpence for a glass of ice water. The secdav, owing to the cold and damp* •Apply ajch pervaded the atmosphere ,. whole establishment, my wife,

Qo^i'elicate, was taken ill, and we were lulled to remain for ten days longer. ng this whole period of her illness, wfiSih was quite serious, she never h%d .: .: an ounce of hot food served, the attendance was neglectful in tbe extreme, and ber illness .was prolonged on account of not receiving reasonably proper food of a nourishing uature. It was impossible to get so simple a thing as a hot .boiled eggj^J* Their system of ventillation was'hwfiigb-' an always wide-open large fr^nt door, where the wind fiom early in the morn-

[pntj

ing to late at night rushed through with great violence. While I was there I knew of four or five persons taking cold from passing in ftnd out through this draughtOne, a delicate lady from Biooklyn,^ never recovered from the effects of it.

I would say to an individual about U» commit an offense which .could be punished by imprisonment,

Tbe propositibjv t\ like American's"* is* tMK and it is not true. Some Englishm^Rke some Americans, and treat them cfsBily. in England, but many Englishiut.

5 How Th$y Kiss. Fall Kiver Advance: We never see a mustache tickling tire lips of a pretty girl without thinking' of mildewed cherries.

fgo

to this hotel,

aud the foretaste he would there receive of prison ^discomforts would certainly prevent the-, commission of the contemplated crimeVv.

will accept home

hospitalities and club favors in New York which tliey do not intend to return in London. The secret of it is simply this: -The higher classes in England whose society is worth enjoying regard us ag a purely commercial people, with the instincts of commerce, and no matter how mtich we may affect English sports, part our hair in the middle, intone arid mince our words, as our would-be New York swells now do, we are for the most part regarded by^the nobility and gentry of England as mei traders, with peculiar manners and want of breeding. Of our general intelligence and smartness they have no doubt, but the best circles in lingland demand other qualities than these as a passjKjrt for crossing their thresholds.

Burlington Free Press: Miss Emma Nevada recently kissed 300 girls in Ban Francisco^ Such reckless waste is .almost cri"- "T."

Newman Independent: A New York couple are keeping a journal of the number of kisses they have enjoyed since their wedding. Of cojirse, there is nothing against the book-keeper.

NorriBtown Herald: One of the duties of the viceroy of Ireland is to kiss all the young, ladies presented at his "drawing-rooms." We don't know how mhch the viceroy of Ireland is paid a year, but fse should think he would be willing to give a bonus of a couple of thousand dollars more than his salary in order to retain the position. ^J| St Paai Herald.

Maggie kiseed me at the gate: 1 am married, she is tingle, -. Y^t the soft tonch of her lipe fe%lade my bosom sweetly tinglfl^l..

Maggie kiseed me qpthing loath, 1 at once leaned o'er and kissed her. Waa 1 faithless to my troth?

Mmgie my bat»y eister.

For lawn tennis and out-door sports, striped material takes the lead in cream «d blue, «nw poK?'1*4*