Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 5 December 1886 — Page 6

THE EVIL GENIUS.

By WILKIE COLLINS,

Author of "The Woman In White,""New Magdalen," "The Moonstone," "The Law and the Lady," "Ana*dale," Etc., Btc.

CHAPTER XIV.

KITTY SEELS THE HKABTACHB. Linley advanced a few steps—and stopped.

His wife, hurrying eagerly to meet him, checked herself. It might have been distrust, or it might have been unreasoning fear—Bhe hesitated on the point of approaching him. "I have something to say, Catherine, which I am afraid will distress you."

His roice faltered, his eyes reeled on her—looked away again. He said no more.

He had spoken a few commonplace word*—and yet he had said enough. She saw the truth in his eyes, heard the truth in his voice, A fit of trembling seized her. Linley stepped forward, in the fear that she might fall. She instantly controlled herself and signed to him to keep back. "Don't touch me!" she said. "You come from Miss Westerfield!"

That reproach aroused him. "I own that I come from Mus Westerfield," he answered. "She addresses a request to you, threugh me." "I refuse to grant it." "Hear it first" "No!" "Hear it—in your own interest. Will you permit her to leave the house, never to return again? While she is still innocent

His wife eyed him with a look of unutterable contempt. He submitted to it, but not in silence. "A man doesn't lie, Catharine, who makes such a confession ss I am making now. Miss Westerfield offers the one atonement in her power, while she is still innocent of having wronged you—except in thought." "Is that all Mrs. Linley asked. "It rests with you," he replied, "to say if there is any other sacrifice to herself which will be more acceptable to you "Let me understand first what the sacrifice meanB. Does she make any oonditions?" "She has positively forbidden me to make conditions." "And goes out into the world helpless and friendless?" "Yes."

Even under the terrible trial that wrung her, the nobility of the woman's nature spoke in her next words. "Give me time to think of what you have said," she pleaded. "I have led a happy life I am hot used to suffer as I am suffering now." In the moment thst followed, her changing color revealed a struggle within herself. "Mies Westerfield is innocent of having wronged me, except in thonght," Mrs. Linley resumed. "She might have deceived me—Bhe has not deceived me. I owe it to her to remember that. She shall go, but not helpless and not friendless."

Her husband forgot the restraints he had imposed on himself. "Is there another woman in the world like you?" he exclaimed. "Many other women," she answered, firmly. "A vulgar termagant, feeling a sense of injury, finds relief in an outburst of jealousy and a furious quarrel. A woman in my position, who respects herself, restrains herself. I try to remem ber what I owe to others as well as what they owe to me."

She approached the writing-table, and took up a pen." Feeling his position acutely, Linley had abstained from again declaring admiration of her generosity. Until he had deserved to be forgiven, he had forfeited the right to express an opinion on ber conduct. She misinterpreted his silence. As she understood it, he appreciated an act of self-sacrifice on Miss Westerfield's side—but he had no word of encouragement for an act of self-sacri-fice on his wife's pide. She threw down the pen, with the first outbreak of anger that had escaped her yet. "You have spsken for the governess," she said to him. "I haven't heard yet, sir, what you have to say for yourself. Is it you who tempted her? You know how gratefully she feels toward you have you perverted her gratitude and led her blindfold to love Cruel, cruel, cruel! Defend yourself if you can."

He made no reply. "Is it not worth your while to defend yourself?" she burst out, passionately. "Your silence is an insult." "My silence is a confession," he answered, sadly. "I have as much need of your mercy as she has—and mere."

Something in the tone of hiB voice reminded her of past days—the days of perrect love and perfect confidence, when fit* had been the one woman in the world to him. Dearly-treasured remembrances of her married life filled her heart with tenderness, and dimmed with tears the angry light that had risen her eyes. There was ne pride, no in anger in now

syes. I here was ne pride, no his wife when site spoke to him

/w« "Oh, my husband, has she taken your love from me "Judge for yourself, Catharine, if there is no proof of my love for you in what I have resisted, and no remembrance of all that I owe to you in what I have confessed."

She ventured a little nearer to him. "Can I believe you?" "Put me to the lest."

Khe instantly took him at his word. "When Miss Westerfield has left us, promise not to see her again." "I promise."

She went back to the writing-table. "My heart is easier," she (aid, simply. "I can be merciful to her now."

After wrjting a few lines, she rose and handed the paper to him. He looked up from it in surprise. "Addressed to Mrs. MacEdwin!" he said. "Addressed," she answered, "to the only person I knew who feels a true interest in her. Have you not heard of it?" "I remember," he said—and read the lines that followed: "I recommend Miss Westerfield as a teacher of young children, having had ample proof of her capacity, industry, and good temper, while she has been governess to my child. She leaves her situation in my service under circumstancee which testify to her sense of duty and her sense of gratitude." "Have I said," she asked, "more than I could honorably and truly Bay—even after what has happened

He could only look at her no words could have spoken tor him as his silence spoke for him at that moment. When she took bank the written paper there was pardon in her eyes already.

The last, worst trial remained to bs undergone she faced it resolutely. "Tell Mies Westerfield that I wish to see her."

On the point of leaving the room, Harbert waa called back. "If yon hap

pen to meet with my mother," his wife added, "will yon aek her to come to me." Mrs. Presty knew her daughter's nature Mrs. Presty had been waiting near at hand, in expectation of the messege which she now received.

Tenderly and respec fully Mrs. Linley addressed herself to her mother. "When we last met, I thought yon spoke rashly and cruelly. I know now that there was truth—some truth, let me sav—in wat offended me at the time. If you felt strongly, it was for my Bake. I wish to beg your pardon I was hasty I was wrong."

On an occssion when she had first irritated and then surprised him, Rindal Linley had said to Mrs. Presty, "Yon have got a heart, after all!'' Her reply to her daughter showed that view of her character to be the right one. "Say no more, my dear," she answered. "I was hasty I was wrong."

The words had barely fallen from her lips before Herbert returned. He was followed by Sydney Westeifieid.

The governess stopped in the middle of the room. Her head sank on her breast her quick, convulsive breathing was audible in the silence. Mrs. Linley advanced to the place in which 8ydney stood. There was something divine in her beauty as she looked compassionately at the shrinking girl, and held out her hand.

Sydney fell on her knees. In silence she lifted that generous hand to her lips. In silence Mrs. Linley raised her, took the writing which testified to her character from the stable and presented it. Linley looked at his wife, looked at the governess. He waited, and still neither the one nor the other uttered a word. It was more than he could endure. He addressed himself to Sydney first. "Try to thank Mrs. Linley," he said.

She answered faintly: "I can't speak!" He appeared to his wife next. 'Say a last kind word to her," he pleaded.

She made an effort, vain effort to obey him. A gesture of despair answered for her as Sydney had answered: "I can't speak!"

True, nobly irue, to the Christian virtue that repents, to the Christian virtue that forgives, those the three persons stood together on the brink of separation and forced their frail humanity to Buffer and submit.

In mercy to the women, Lin»ey sum moned the courage to part them. He turned to his wife first. "I may say, Catharine, that she has your good wishes for happier days to come?"

Mrs. Linley pressed his hand. He approached Sydney and gave his wife's message. It was in his heart to add something equally kind on his own part. He could only say what we have all said—how sincerely, how sorrowfully, we all know—the common word: "Goodby!"—the common wish: ''God bless you!"

At that last moment the child ran into the room, in search of her mother. There was a low murmur of horror at the sight of her. That innocent heart, they had all hoped, miaht have been spared the misery of the parting scene.

She saw that 8ydney had her hat and cloak on. "You're dressed to go out," she said. Sydney turned away to hide her face. It was too late Kitty had seen the tears. "Oh, my darling, you're ot going away?" She looked at her father and mother. "Is she going away?" They were afraid to answer her. With all her little strength, she clasped her beloved friend and pi ay el low round the waist. "My own dear, you're not going to leave me!" The dumb misery in Sydney's face struck Linley with horror. He placed Kitty in her mother's arms. The child's piteous cry "Oh, don't let her go! don't let her go!" followed the governess as she suffered her martyrdom, and weHt out. Linley's heart ached he watched her until she was lost to view. "Gone!" he murmured to himself—"gone forever!

Mrs. Presty heard him, and answered him: "She'll come back again!"

CHAPTER XV. THE DOCTOR.

As the year advanced, the servants at Mount Morven remarked that the weeks seemed to follow each other more elowly than usual. In the higher regions of the house the same impression was prevalent, but the sense of dullness among the gentlefolks submitted to circumstances in silence.

If the question had been asked in past days, "Who is the brightest and happiesL member of the family?" everybody would have said Kitty. If the question had been asked at the present time, difference of opinion might have suggested different answers, but the whole house hold might have refrained without hesitation from mentioning the child's name.

Since Sydney Westerfield's departure, Kitty had never held up her head. Time quieted the child's first vehement outbreaks of distress under the loss of the companion whom she had dearly loved. Delicate management, gently, yet resolutely applied, held the faithful little creature in check when she tried to discover the cause of her governess's ban islment from the house. She made uo more complaints she asked no more embarrassing questions—but it was miserably plain vo everybody about her that she failed to recover her spirits. She was willing to learn her lessons (not under another governess) when her mother was able to attend to her she played with her toys and went out riding on her pony. But the delightful gayety of other days was gone the shrill laughter th.it once rang through the house was heard no more. Kitty had become a quiet child and, worse still, a child who seemed to be easily tired.

The doctor was consulted. He was skilled in the sound medical practice that learns its lesson without books—bedside practice. His opinion declared that the child's vital power was seriously lowered. "Some cause is at work here," he said to the mother, "which I don't understand. Can you help me?" Mrs. Linley helped him without hesitation. My little daughter dearly loved her governess and her governess has been obliged to leave us." That was her reply. The doctor wanted to hear no more he at once advised that Kitty should be taken to the seaside, and that everything which might remind her of the absent friend—books, presents, even articles of clothing likely to revive old associations—should be left at home. Anew life, in new air. When pen, ink, and paper were offered to him, that was the doctoi's prescription.

Mrs. Linley consulted her husband on the choice of the seaside place to which child should be removed.

The blank which Sydney's departure left in the life of the household was felt by the master and mistress of Mount Morven—and felt, unhappily,without any open avowal on either side of what was passing in their minds. In this way, the governess became a forbidden subject between them the husband waited fer the wife to set the example of approaching it, and the wife waited for the husband. The trial of temper produced by this state ot hesitation, and by the secret doubts which it encouraged, led insensibly to a certain estrangement—which Linley in particular was morbidly unwilling to acknowledge. If, when the dinner-hear biought them together, he was silent and dull in his wife's presence, he attributed it to anxiety on the subject of his brother—then absent on a serious business errand in London. If he sometimes left the hens* the first

thing in the morning and only returned at night, it was because the management of the medel farm had become one of his duties, in Sandal's absence. Mia. Linley made no attempt to dispute thia view of the altered circumstances in home-life—but she submitted with a mind ill at esse. Secretly fearing that Linley was suffering under Miss Westerfield's absence, she allowed herself to hope that Kitty's father would see a necessity, in his ewn case, for change of scene, and would accompany them to the seaside. "Won't you come with us, Herbert?" she suggested, when they had both agreed on the choice of a place.

His temper wss in a state of constant irritation. Without meaning it, he an twered her harmless question sharply. "How can I go away with you when we are losing by the farm, and when theteis nobody to chect the tuinous ex penses but myself?"

Mis. Linley's thoughts naturally turned to Randal's prolonged absence. "What can be keeping him all this time in London she said.

Linley's falling patience suffered a severe trial. "Don't you know," he broke out, "that I have inherited my poor mother's property in England, saddled with a lawsuit? Have you never heard of delays and disappointments, and quibbles and false pretences, encountered by unfortunate wretches like me who are obliged to go to law? God only knows when Randal will be free to return, or what bad news he may bring with hitn when he does come back." "You have many anxieties, Herbert, and I ought to have remembered them."

That gentle answer touched him. He made the best apology in his power he said his nerves were out of order, and asked her to excuse him if he had spoken roughly. There was no unfriendly feeling on either side and yet there wti something wanting in the reconciliation. Mrs. Linley left her husband, shaken by a conflict of feelings. At one moment she felt angrv with him at another she felt angry with herself.

With the best intentions (as usual) Mrs. Presty made mischief, nevertheless. Observing that her daughter was in tears, and feeling sincerely distressed by the discovery,

Bhe

was eager to administer

consolation. "Make yon mind easy, my dear, if you have any doubt about Herbert's movements when he is away from home. I followed him myself the day before yesterday when he went out. A long walk for an old woman—but I can assure you that he does really go to the farm."

Implicitly trusting her husband—and rightly trusting him—Linley's wife replied by a look which Mrs. Presty received in silent indignation. She summoned her dignity and marched out of the room.

Five minutes afterward, Mrs. Linley received an intimation that her mother was seriously offended, in the form of a little note: "I find thrt my material interest in your welfare, and my devoted efforts to serve you, are only rewarded with furious looks. The less we see of each other the better. Permit me to thank you for your invitation, and to decline accompanying you when you leave Mount Morven to-morrow." Mrs. Linley answered the note in person. The next day Kitty's grandmother—ripe for more mischief on the next favorable occasion —altered her mind, and thoroughly en joyed her jouney to the seaside.

CHAPTER XVI. THE CHILD.

During the first week there was an improvement in the child's health, which justified the doctor's hopeful anticipations. Mrs. Linley wrote cheerfully to her husband and the better nature of Mrs. Linley's mother seemed, by some inscrutable process, to thrive morally under the encouraging influences of the sea air. It may be a bold thing to say, but it is surely true, that cur virtues depend greatly on the state of our health.

During the second week the report sent to Mount Morven were less encouraging. The improvement in Kitty was maintained but it made no further progress.

The lapse of the third week brought with it depressing results. There could be no doubt now that the child was losing ground. Bitterly disappointed, Mrs. Linley wrote to her medical adviser, de scribing the symptoms and asking for instructions, The doctor wrote back: "Find out where your supply of drinking water comes from. If from a well, let me know how it is situated. Answer by telegraph." The reply arrived: "A well near the parish church." The doctor's advice ran back along the wires: "Come home instantly."

They returned the eame day—and they returned too late. Kitty's first night at home was wakeful and restless her little hands felt feverish, and she was tormented by perpetual thirst. The good doctor Btill spoke hopefully, attributing the symptoms to fatigue after the journey. But, as the days followed each other, his medical visits were paid at short intervals. The mother noticed that his pleasant face became grave and anxious, and implored him to tell her the truth. The truth was told in two dreadful words: "Typhoid fever."

A day or two later the doctor rpoke privately with Mr. Linley. The child's debilitated condition—that lowered state of the vital power which he had observed when Kitty's case was first submitted to him—placed a terrible obstacle in the way of successful resistance to the advance of the disease. "Say nothing to Mrs. Linley just yet. There is no absolute danger so far, unless delirium sets in." "Do you think it likely?" Linley asked.

The doctor shook his head and said, "God knows." On the next evening, but one, the fatal symptoms showed itself. There was nothing violent in the delirium. Unconscious of the past events in the family life, the poor child supposed that her governess was living in the house as usual. She piteouslv wondered why Sydney remuined down stairs in the school-room. "Oh, don't keep her away from me! I want Syd! I want Syd That was her one cry. When exhaustion silenced her, they hoped that the sad delusion was at an end. No! As the slow fire of the fever flamed up again, the same words were on the child's lips, the same fond hope was in her sinking heart.

The doctor led Mrs. Linley out of the room. "Is this the governess?" he asked "Yes." "Is she within easy reach 7" "She is employed in the family of a friend of ours, living nine miles away from ns "Send for ber, instantly 1"

Mrs. Linley looked at him with a wildly mingled expression of hope and fear. She was not thinking of herself— she was not even thinking for that one moment of the child. What would her husband say if she (who had extorted his promise never to see the governess again), brought Sydney Westerfield back to the home

The doctor spoke to her more strongly still. "'I don't presume to inquire into your private reasons for hesitating to follow my advice," he said "but I am bound to tell you the truth. My poor little patient is in serious danger—every hour of delay is an hour gained by death, bring that lady to the bedside as fast as

THE BX1PBE9S, TEBBE HAUTE, SUNDAY, DEGEKBER 6, 1880.

a carriage can fetch, her, and let tn see the result If Kitty recognises her gov erncae there, I tell yon plainly, is the one chance of saving the child's life."

Mrs. Linley't resolution flashed on him in her weary eyes—the eyea which, by day and night alike, had known so little rest. She rang tor her maid. "Tell your master I want to speak to him."

The wo'tian answered, "My master has gone out." The doctor watched the mother's face. No sign of hesitation appeared in it— the one thought in her mind now was the thought of the child. She called the maid back. -'Order the carriage." "At what time do yon want it ma'am "At once?" [To be dkmtimud in Pit Sunday Exjtrm.

THE BLUE BONNET.

A Talented Young Hun Who is Destined to Get On. I guess young Jones will get on. He's in an office on California street, or somewhere thereabouts. He's careless and had made so many mistakes that he knew thb one he made 1 ist would be fatal. He went back fro:n lunch the other day and a fellow-clerk met him on the stairs. "You'll get it, Jones. The old man's just boilisg, and he's been calling for you for the last fifteen miiiutee."

Jones stepped on the landing and cogitated. He must head off the old man somehow. He ran down stairs and up the street as hard as he could to a florist's. There he purchased a little 15-cent beutonniere, and marched gaily back. "Mr. Jones!" came in a loud tone from the private office as he entered. ."Yes, sirand he deposited his hat, hid the flower in his coat, walked into the private office and closed the door carefully, "Mr. Jones, I have frequently ''I beg your pardon, Sir but I have a private message for you." "Mr. Jones, you've been a private message! What is it?"

His tone changed us Jones quietly laid the flower on the desk before him. "What is this?" "It's a little boquet. A lady came in while you were cut—a young lady—and inquired for you. 'He's not in,' I said. 'Can I do anything for 'you?' 'Can I trust you?' she asked. 'With the utmost confidence,' I said. 'Will you give this flower to Mr. Johnson? And don't let anybody see you, and tell him it was left by the lady in the blue bonnet.' And here it is, sir." "Dear me! that's odd." Jones saw a beam come in his face, and he knew he was all right. "The lady in the blue bonnet I Bless my soul, Jones, that's curious. I don't know any what was she like?" "She was very pretty." "Pretty! Very well, Mr. Jones, you'll really have to be a little more careful. You've been making another By the way, Jones, if you can find out anything about the lady—you needn't mention, of course—you can let me know."

And the old man's been looking fixedly at every woman in a blue bonnet he has met since.

THE HUMAN FAMILY.

denBe

THE OLD 8LEIGH.

The

A Larze and Interesting Family Population of the Continent*. The human family living to-day on earth consists of about 1,450,000,000 individuals not less, probably more*. These are distributed over the earth's surface so that now there is no considerable part where man is not found. In Asia, where he was first planted, there are now appioximately about 800,000,000, densely crowded on an average 120 to the square mile. In Enrope there are 320,00u,000, averaging 100 to the squaie mile, not so crowded, but everywhere

and at all points over

populated. In Africa there are 210,000,000. In America, north and south, there are 110,000,000, relatively thinly scattered and recent. Ia the islands, large and small, probably 16,000,000. The extremes of the white amd bl*ck are as five to three tbe remaining 700,000,000 intermediate brown and tawny. Of the race, 500, 000,000 are well clothed, that is wear garments of some kind to cover their nakedness 700,000,000 are semi-clothed, covering inferior parts of the body 250,000,000 are practically naked. Of the race, 500,000,000 live in houses partly furnished with the appointments of civilization 700,000,000 in huts or caves, with no furnishing 260,000,000 have nothing that can be called a home, are barbarous and savage. The range is from the topmost round—the Anglo-Saxon civilzatian, which is the highest known—down to naked savagery. The portion of the race lying below the line of human condition is at the very least three-fifths of the whole, or 900,000,000.

THE ADIRONDACK BEAR.

An Haf Be

Inoffensive Beait Tbst Founded to Death.

Brooklyn Eagle. The bear of the Adirondacks is a shy, timid, sensitive brute. He prowls a round in the raspberry and blackberry bushes, chewing berries with a pair of jaws that could chew up the leg of a strong man. Should the bear see you gathering berries in the same patch be fore you see him he will run—run like a Turk. It is no use for you to run after him you can't catch him. But if you see the bear first, and do the running yourself, he will keep on eating berries. Only one bear has been killed in our •part of the woods this summer. A man met this bear on the road one nigt t. Both man and bear were unarmed. Tbe man picked up a club and hit the bear, but the club broke. The man got another one, knocked the bear down, and pounded him to death. By far the most dangerous bears I have seen in these woods were a pair of dancing bears owned by a party of tramping Turks. They were enormous fellows, the bears, and they appeared to be suffering from seme cutaneous diserse which they had contracted from the Turks, and this humiliating affliction made them veiy cross. But you couldn't blame them.

A RUSSIAN SMOKING-ROOM.

Lined With Bank Notes—A Painter's Criticism. A Russian millionare has recently had built for him in St. Petersburg a most Bumptuons smoking rocm, which is the atonishment of all the northern capital. Its lichness consists not

much in its

furniture, which is a model of simplicity but in its walls. These are literally lined with European bonk notes. Instead of the mass of white ceiling which forms the desperation of disciples of William Morris, is seen a profusioun of Austrian notes most artistically grouped round a blue ten-florin bank note. Charming designs composed of French, English, Italian and Russian bank notes adorn the walls. This curious room has re ceived many famous visitors from all points of the compass. Among others a celebrated Hungarian painter was introduced. He glanced up at the millionare, and said with a smile, "8ir, it is a pity you have already disposed ef your money, for the same amount I would willingly have decorated your walls— perhaps more artistically, indeed, than is now the case—by covering tbem with pointings, even as Micheal Angelo did for fcia holiness, Pop* alius the

"Liaabeth!" ... "Coming." "There, mother, old Speckle has returned thanks at last," holding up a plump white egg that would do credit to the queen of any poultry yard.

tl.

wanted to Bee you, but you was gone so

long I thought you must be down to Mis' Pennell's." "Yes, I met her as she came thro' the yard." "She didn't tell yon the news, did she?" "She told me Will Marston had returned from California." "It does beat all 'bout that boy—seems jest like the piece o' poetry you read some times about the feller that went off and staid so many years and then come back and took his mother out o' the poorhouse—only it's tbe father this time 'The very worst of the deacon's six,' it called him, and that's jest what Will was then. I never believed he had anything to do with that scrape down the village. Liddy says he's terribly rich and is going to take care of his father tbe deacoH must be glad, for I guess he's staid with Caleb most as long as he can comfortably. They say he's going to marry Sam Miller's darter Ruth. You see when Bob Miller went out there for his health Will found him out and done little kindness for him, and when he was too sick to write home Will wrote for him. Part of the time Sam was sick hisself, so Ruth answered the letters and he fell in love with her in that way. There didn't anybody but tbe deacon and the Millers know he was coming. Sam drove down to the depot and carried him up to Caleb's. Guess they were surprised to see him."

There was no knowir how long Mrs. Allen would have gone on, her tongue keeping time to the busy click-click of her needles, had not Mr. Allen's step sounded on the walk. 'Lizabeth never talked much, and the mother did not mind her Bilence tonight. A slight qniver about the sensitive mouth alone told how keenly the words were felt, and the sigh of relief which escape at the welcome sound of her father's voice was lost in tLe noise made as he entered, stamping the snow from his boots. "Why, father, does it snow? I have been so busy talking, I hain't thought to look out of the window for some time." "Yes, it's begun to come right down smart shouldn't wonder if it was good sleighing by to-morrow." "You don't tbink it's going to be a long storm

Mrs. Allen's face had an anxious expression as she asked tbe question, for a long storm meant days of exile for her. "No. I shall be mrprised if it don't clear up by to-morrow noon, so 'Lizabeth and I can take a ride to the village that'll be a treat, won't it, darter?" And the smile that lighted up his daughter's face pleased him better than any answer could have done. "Guess I'll get the old sleigh out. Ben Smart's been down to the city and he says he saw lots just like it. It's five vears since I sent Jim to the village for the new one, and it's never been out since. I'm glad it's come into fashion again, for I never enjoyed myself com plete in the new one—always telt a little above my station." And Farmer Allen's laugb rang thro' the old sittingroom at tbe fitness of his remark. "Well, 'Lizabetn, you get supper on the table and I'll tell father the news while he warms his feet. He's been down to the wood lot all the afternoon and haib't heard nothing of tbe strange things that has been happening up here."

Having arranged things to her satisfaction, the stockings Mrs. Allen had dropped on the entrance of her husband continued to grow un^er her deft fiugers, while the news lost none of its interest with repetition.

That night after 'Lizabeth had taken her candle and said good-sight, Mr. Allen sat for some time looking at the fire, then suddenly broke out. "Mother, don't you think 'Lizabeth looks kind o' peaked lately? Ttien, she doesn't seem to eat as much as usual."

There, father, you're always fretting 'bout that irl. I don't know what you'd a done if you'd had six, like your brother Jonathan." "I didn't know but the news about Will might affect her some. You know they used to think so much of each other." "Massy, father! that was years and years ago, when they were children. 'Lizabeth's too sensible a girl let a feller like Will disturb her. When he stopped writing to her she gave him up. She's worked bard, to-day, and a good night's rest will bring her round."

There seemed nothing more to be said, so he took a light and proceeded to make everything safe for the night, but long after his good wife was asleep he lay awake thinking of the pale face his daughter had lifted for the good night kiss. 'Lizabeth was not likely to j.et the strength her mother thought from a night's rest. Until the first rays of morning lighted up the east she lay thinking of the old days, and living them over again. She could not remember the time when she add Will had not seemed to belong to each other.

When they were children he had drawj her to and from school on his sled, saved her the largest half of his apple or orange, and fought all her battles with a vigor worthy of an olden knight. When the years in their flight made them no longer children it was always Will who, at the close of meeting or singing-school, drew her arm thro' his with air of proprietorship and started for the Allen farm After his mother's death he had not chosen his associates wisely, but in spite of scorn and opposition, without disobedience, she had clung to him and trustee.

Then came the affair at the village One dark night a parly of roughs had broken into 'Squire Peasley's barn, tied together the legs of all his hens nailed up Whitefoot's stall, and tben climbwd up the roof of the ell had placed a board soaked in salt and water over the chimney. The old gen theman, who lived alone, was obliged to travel on a slippery ground to the nearest neighbor for help. The villagers were justly indignant and for punishing the miscreants, but no clue to them could be found.

Will was away from home that night, and supicion rested on him as one of the party, until he could bear it no longer and he decided td go away.

It seemed but yesterday—their parting in the old trysting place. Will had slipped the tiny gold band he woie upon ber finger—it seemed but a thread of gold now—asking her to wear it until he came back. "For," he said. "I'll never come ack till I can offer you a name and a home. Somehow the devil has had possession of me lately, but bad as I am I would scorn to do what they accuse me of—torture a, feeble old man. While you believe and trust me there are plenty who do not." And with a last "Good-by, my Beth" he was gone.

Wbtm the ft*t letter case adirssaii

to Miss Beth Allen in Will's round, boyish hand Mr. Allen frowned and his wife scolded, but when she waa for stopping the correspondence at once, he said: "There, there, mother let the girl write to him if she wants to sbe won't do him any harm, and I can trust her for a true Allea not to go far out of the way"

So the matter bad dropped, and for

,, __ five years 'Lixabeth's letters were re"Well, I alien said that hen was

thankful for past mercies, tho' your' ceased suddenly and unexpectedly. For father would laugh every time I said so. months 'Lizabeth watched tbe mails Liudy Stephens has just been here, she with

wUhout then they

anxious face. Mrs. Allen shook

ber head with an "I told you he didn't

mMnt t0 thi wbenever

there was

anything"

no one but her husband to bear, and Mr. Allen waited in silence. Time does much towards healing such wounds, and five years had made it seem more like an unpleasant dream than a reality, when the news of Will's return came, awakening memories of other days.

For once Mr. Allen was weathor wise. The snow had fallen thro' the night, covering the earth as with a mantle. The feathery flakes continued to come lazily down until just before 12 o'clock, then There was a rift in tht western sky, and when the old yellow sleigh stood at the door, the sun shone as bright as ever. "Be careful, father, and don't let 'Lizsbeth get cold waiting lor you, was Mrs. Allen's parting injunction as the came to the door to see tbem off.

There was just wind enuugh to litt the newly fallen snow and send it in little

whirls to lie sparLlicg snd glistening a jan(j

few yards from where it had fallen. Robin was in excellent spirits and Mi. Ailen declan d, as he diew up in front of the village pestoffice, that the distance never seemed so short. "Draw the robe close around you, darter, and don't get tired waiting. I've got to bargain with Sam Cha- about that stove, but I'll be back as quick as I can then we'll drive down to Burham's and get the book you mentioned." With this and an extra pull at Robin's blanket, Mr. Allen was gone. "Father was rigtit the old sleigh is more comfortable than the new one," 'Lizabeth thought as she nestled down in the corner, drawing the robe more closely

tucking the robe between the cus ton an

careless, she thought, with a fond smile,,

as she drew it forth for inspection, a glance was needed to show her mistake.

It was a little yellow with age, unopened, and addressed to herself in the handwriting she knew so well. She could

scaicely trust her eyes, but there was the .g

familliar postmark ban Francisco—-an jjerg

she was just leaning forward to read £yen

date when a gust of wind, takiag it from

and she had scarcely course to reply: remain jt j8

"I think so, I never saw it before.

cei/ed no answer to my last letter I was qlla,rter

When Mr. Allen came hurrying back the old el.igh had two occnpams. It was some time before they could expUin aflairs to his bewildered mind, but when light began to dawn he exclaimed: "It was that Jim he's so careless I Lost a letter for me once

Will was persuaded to accompany them home, and it was a very mer party that surprised Mrs. Allen by their early appearance.

As soon a* possible Mr. Allen hurried his wife oft to the kitchen to unravel the mystery, while Will and 'Lixibeth read and reread the old letter by the light of the hickory fire.

What Ruth Miller would say was a source of much anxiety to Mrs. Allen, until one day Will remarked, much to her pea of mind, that Ruth had been engaged for some time to a friend of his in the west—a gentleman she met^ some years before while vnitins in the citv.^

The house upon the hill Will nd'Lizibeth both call home, and the old yellow sleigh—well, as Mrs Allen says, it's not evrry sleigh than can boast of a romance like that.—[Chicsgo Tribune,

WILL IT SUPERSEDS STEAM?

A. Syarcns* Inventor Saya He Has Struck a Grsat Device. The Syracuse Standard says that Robert W. Flack, of No. 69

Apple

VIEWING BIRDS AT SEA..

Ion* tbe Feathered Trtlx Briog Good Look—Other* Umd Htifartufte. Mail and Express.

Sailors are credited with being the most superstitious persons living. They have whims, fancies and beliefs connected with every ordinary occurence of daily life, and their actions are all influenced by some one or more of these occurrences. On land they watch for black cats, crosseyed peop e, ladders and many other objects, and on sea their lives are made happy or unhappy by many of the lesser rathar than the greater scenes of the voyage. They are believers in fate, and when at sea they say their fate is more or less influenced by the birds that come and perch in their masts or yards. An old and educated sea captain, who has weathered many storms, been shipwrecked a dozen times and who is yet hearty and hale, was met recently by a reporter. Tbe weather-beaten tar and the scribe adjourned to a neighboring hostelry, and ovtr some staamiug hot grog and cigars they chatted about the superstitions connected with birds at sea. "Yes," said the captain, as he blew a long, thin column of blue smoke through his lips and watched it curling fantastically through the air. "Yes, we have a few little fancies when at sea about birds, and some area little scared when a gull or aswallow perches upon our mast but, as a rule, we are pleased to see the feathery beauties, especially after along

... voyage, for then we know we are neiring

an( 800I1

be among our friends

again. The belief of old sailors is that if an albatross be slaughtered it at once becomes necessary to keep one's weather eve lifted for squalls, but theu no barm follows if the bird he caught with a piece of fat pork and is allowed to die a natural death on deck. The common house sparrow is much respected* at sea. It is gravely asserted that should sparrows be blown away to sea and alight upon a ship they are not t\, be taken or even chafed away, for in proportion as the birds are molested must sail be shortened to provide against the storm that will certainly come. The harmless and beautiful gull, whose lovely sweepings and curvings through the air, whose ex

I nUU LUt ll'K" IHIUUKU tliv tall HUvOv vA

to keep out the puffs of wind ^at quisite self-balauciog capacity in the to find entrance to all corners.

0f a

ga|r

the side of the sl^gb her fingers touched bosoms of ermine it is impossible to something smooth like paper._ (sufficiently admire, has a commercial "One of fathers old receipts, he so

her hands, deposited it at the feet of a juggler be sospendtd to the mast by gentleman who was passing. j{g jjj

She dared not look up, but in a mo-

ment he was handing it toward her, say-

tug: ,,,

where, the hot blood rushed to her face

living gale, whose bright eyes,

ghrewd voice and webbed feet folded

yjrtue that

sets it high in the longshore-

mania catai0gUe 0f

things to be approved.

-tjUt 117U..M iUin U.arl AnnAaM in rvVXAttt nntukaN

When this bird appears in great numbers then is its presence accepted as an infallible sign of the neighborhood of herring shoals. "It is reckoned a bad sign for lavens to perch on tbe m-ist of a ship. There

j(j

perstition that the rotten titn-

foundered ships generate birds,

je bird may prove a sooth-

er accor(

]iDK to Jack, for, says he, if

rect 0D 0

8wa

iDg breast in the di-

he comiug *ind. Years ago

now8 were deemed uulucky at sea. If

kite perches on the mast the omen is a

"Is this your property, Miss Allen er0od one. A crow lighting on a .ship is Atthesound of the voice, so little I

changed that she would know it any-. jntjg]

acceptt( as a sure 8

j„n

aD(

crutu

prosperous

they feed the bird with

bread bv way of coaxing it to

She felt that she must vindicate herself, and her answer came full and Where They LiTC—Their Personal 4pleHr: yanrauce and PccallaiitiM "I just found it in the old sleigh. I do They aie most all men of such presence not know how long it has lain there. gg to attract attention, even when their

He glanced again at the letter it must j,jentity ja unknown. Mr. Justice Bradbe the same one he knew the date so lives on I street, much cioser to the well. The tone was almost eager now.. han his brothers of the bench, "You never saw it before, isetn lou

Rn(

did not reccive it, my last letter, and j£e j8

last

leave it uuanswered?" "Could you doubt me, Will?" she was lookiag Lim io the tace now.

street, in

that city, is the inventor of a propellor which he is confident will eend ocean steamships flying between New York and Liverpool in three days. Forty miles an hour will be easy work, he says, for a ves sel rigged out with his invention, which consists in forcing condensed air against the water through two big port holes in the stern. Boats have beea propelled before now by pumping iu water and forcing it in streams from the stern, but Mr. Flack proposes to substitute air for water and is very sanguine of the sucoeMg of his invention, on, which be is taking out a patent. "Two or three people have told ine that there is a hundred million dol1 trs in it if it is adopted," he said, "and I a sure it will be adopted. It hae many advantages over the screw propt-1-ler besides the the great speed of which it is capable. The propeller is not so liable to breakages as those now in use the main shaft being subtiluted bv short crank shaft. In the event of accident at sea, either to the machinery or pthe shaft, it can be readily repaired, even ia a sto-m. As the vessel travel-* at double the speed at present attained, only half the consumption of coal will be necessary The vessel will make nearly double the voyages as at present, thus securing the work of two vetge'B with but one crew. By my attachment I increase the Dower of the engines at least 25 per cent, without the aid of ad ditional coal or steam- The flip of tbe vessel and tbe drag of the screw are coinpletly overcome, using the vessel to travel faster than her propeller. The rolling and pitching reduced, mitigating the miseries ef sea-sickness now endured by so many passengers, The propeller and engines being placed below wat-r line, and the propeller working inboard instead of exposed in the sea, it is fecure from shot and shell, torpedoes and floating obstructions, or running aground," "I want to form a stock company," concluded Mr. Flack, "t- build a model at a cost of $10,000. That sum would build a steamer lar^e enough to navigate any of the lakes and demonstrate the value of my invention. I propose to attach the new propeller t» tha engines bow In w."

jn the English Chan-

fi9hermen attribute the east wind to

She felt the keen eyes search her face flight. the curlew on dark nights." there was a touch of scorn in the question that followed. JUSTICES IN SOCIfc-TY.

jg jesg

Been ou

"I mis ht have known batter but you j)dmocratic senators, just before the war, were always so punctual, and when re-to make the most fashionable

the avenue than they,

8CJtroe

medium height and is

slight of build, but his face is such that one will turn and 1 jok as he passes by. He lives in the row that three leading

too proud to writo and ask an explana- here Q.nerais Grant and Sherman tion. I thought you had given me up, like every one else in Can you forgive me for want of confidence?" But he needed not words for an Mnswer.

Washing'on, and trie sauie

subsequently resided. Chief Justice Waite, who lives also on I street, but a mile and a If west if Justice Bradley, generally walks alone.

Justice Harlan, wno weut to Rckville last winter to live, when he cotnes on the .aveHue walks with difiereut members of the court. Sometimes he and Jiutice Gray will cotne alon? togetner. Judge Harlan is a map of splendid build, even fot a Keniuckian. He can uasily look down on nine men out of ten that he passes, but when he walKB with Judge Gray he has to look up, as the lauei is really gigantic in his pioportions. His fiame is not, however, so well built and he is not as graceful in hia movements as Judge Harlan.

Justice Miller, like the chief justice, seems to prefer a solitary promenade. He is one of the best-known tigures on the avenue, but he rarely has company, and his most intimate friends are not apt to join bim uiihss invited. He is one ot the public men here who wear evening drtss upon all occasion?, and it must be an extremely bitter and inclement day when besuppliments it with an overcoat. Curiosity has been expressed as to the reason for the pedestrian proclivities of the Supreme court justices.

It is said that they find the exercise absolutely neceesary, for, in addiiion to iher judicial labors, they have to perform more sc/ci^l duties than any other nine men in the United Stales, if not in the world. No swell dinner in Washington is considered complete without the presence of one or more members of the Supreme court, and almoi-t all of the Justices entenain largely themt-elvrs.

No one in Was-hington give* more frequent or moie elaborate d'lintrs than Justice Blatchford, and the mansion of Ju.'-tioe Ma thews has long been noted for literary reunions, where the feast of reason playtd only a secondary part.

PINK PEARLS.

Pearls to be Found In Many Calort Some Perfect S3pe lmem. Pall Malt Gatette.

The preseat colonial exhibition has prominently brought before the public the striking beauty of the pink pearl as distinguished from the white and black more comm riiy seen in ordinary wear. Pearls are found of all shades of color the rarest aie those of a jet tlnck, seldom met with, and therefore most valuable It behooves the buyer to be most careful of whom he purchases any kind of cil ored pearl, ss pearls are easily dyed, but he color is not lasting, and can easily be detected by an expert, or even through the aid of a hand magnifier. But the rosy color and 'he lovely "orient" of the pink pearl will at once strike the most casual observer, and when mounnted with brilliants and white pearls forms a most exquisite harmf ny of color and good taste.

-'I

was struck,"

says one of our representatives, "while -trolling down Bond street, with the fine collection of pink pearls, mounted and unmounted, shown in the window of Messrs. Hancocks, the well known pearl and diamond merchants, and, dropping iu, had a little chat with the head of tbe firm. It seems that these pink pearls uave taken years to collect. Here is a description of one ornament I saw. Tbe center was a marvelous black pe rl of great size and perfect col r, which waa mounted with eight diamonds of the purest water, set at qual distance on an almost invisible mount', having for a pendant a pink pearl of wonderful color and shape._ The weight of this pearl was nearly eight} grains. Another neck lice of pink pearlintermixed with white dr ip-shaped pearls and diamonds showtd the great taste with whiah tbe lovely geas v«a

£7.2-^

mounted. Passing from these, though with some reluctance, I feasted my eyes on 'ropes of pearls' of every sise. One row more especially took my attention, as each peail had been selected as near perfection as possible."

THEATRE FLIRTATIONS.

The Nv and Improved Method! ot Bolton Cottar*. Boston Latter.

I have heard of all sorts of flirtations, but the thoroughbreds of Boston have gone the usual su*p a cultured better. The science of flirting has been by tbem so reduced to an iutellectual pursuit that it throws anagrams and all their relations quite out in the cold. It is an especially delightful pastime since the theatre is its absolute fidd of action. It takes a clever ftllow to start it, because he must pick out the mashee with great tact, and it takes a girl of keen appreciation, as well as willingness, to catch cn. HaviDg chosen your girl you will be lucky if she sits in the front row of the gallery or parquet circle, if you are in your usual wet seat in the center aisle. You make sure that her escort is her brother or a disinterested party who won't tumble to it also. Then when a sentence from the stage comes that will carry a message from you to her, you give her a tender glance. If she is a clever girl she sees our pretty game at once, and don't hesitate to send you back a dispatch from her bright eyes as soon as the author and the actor will voice it for her. It*s a great port if you don't mske a mistake in the girl, and is as intellectual as even Boston could desire. It is the real cultured article.

THE CENTURY 1886-87.

The Century an it ustrated monthly magazine, having regutRr circulation a*out iwo hundred thousand copi goften reachl .« and someti es exceeding two hu drpd and twentv fl thousand. C'uef among it any aitiaa ion* or tbecomict year in a «e tat wi.tch Hits beeD iu aoti»eprep* ration for stxie-n ytars. It.tsa his tory of our own uuutrj in its most critical time, as foith in.

'i HE LIFE OF LINCOLN,

By Hi* Confidential Secretaries, John GHicolay and Col J»hn Hay* Tills irreat WOT k,''exuu wllh itie sanction of P'i-s tleut Lincoln, mid eontl '.:«d under the authority of his son, ih» Hon. Kobert T. I. n'• In, Is the on full *nd authoritative record of the life \brabam Lin olu. Its uihorii were frienda of Lli celn before his residency thpy \ernmrsl Ultimately a unolau'd with with him as private seorot-fies throughout his term of office, anu to ih-m were tr- nsfered upon Lincoln's d'Uthall hi» private papers. H^re will be told the inde hist ry of the o'vtl war a of rresldeot i.coin's ndmir,itr tion —important details of Iwhlch have hitherto remained unrevcal d, that th.} might first appear In iliis authentic hit-tory.

By reason of the publication of this wor*, The War Series, wMch has b»en followed with unflagging inteiest a eat audience, will o.c»py It s-! space dnrtnp tlit- comtnx ear. Gnt^ tvsbnrg will b« de^cribid by Gen. Hunt ijbief of th. Union Artillery), Clen. narBtreet, Um. K. Law. and others UmcKamauga. by Gen H. H'li Sherman's March to the -ea, by Generals Howard and locum. Generais A. Gill more, Wm F* Smith, bu Gibbon. Horace Porter, and .T .bn S, Mosby will describe -peci-il battles aud incidents tjlorles of naval engagements, prison tife, etc., etc., will appear.

Novels and Stories.

The Hundreth Man," «. novel br Franfc Stockton, author of "The Lady »r the Tiger?" et,.-.M begins Iu Nove-nbor. Two ni.vel^ttes by U-'mge W Table, stiirles by Mary Hal'oclt Foote, "U-icle Remus," Julian Hawthorne, Edward Kgl!«iou, ami ,ther imminent A mer cm ttuthoiswill prln'ed during the ^ear..

Special Feat urea

(with Illustrations) Include a series of iifliir* in Russia und Slharu, bv Georue, K-nnim, author of '-Te:! !fe In bera'a who nas just, returned from a mod eventfnl visit Siberian pricon« papers on the od Question, wl'h reference to Its bearing on the Libo Problem Engliah ("a»h rals: Dr. Kggle-ton's iMIgious Life in he America' Colonies Men and Women of Qu-en Anti i'i Reign, by Mrs. illph nt O'atrv yaaee, spiritualism. •\si ology, '-to., by tbe Rev. .1. M. Kucfcley editor the I lirlstian Advo ate ast onomical papers articieB throwing llguton th« Biole history, t.c.

Prices, A Free Copy.

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a nnmber, L'ea ers, pi-stmaRter.s, and the nuoli" ers tuke s"bscrlixlou. Seud for our beniitKuily 1 ln«uat 21 paice catalouee (free), contain!fu'I orospec us, including spec! |1 cfTer by wh cn now read era can get c* number* to the oeKinning of thf w.ir Merles as a very low prlc. A sped .I'an copy (l ck number) 111 be sent on request. Mention this paper,

ran you afford to be wlihont The Century THE CKNT.vRY CO. Nfw-YOr*.

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ST. NICHOLAS for 1886-87-

Stories by Louisa Aloott aud Frank Stockton,—s verul ny eocri nthor A Snort 8eri*l Storv by Mrs' Burnett, wliosc cha Infc Hie rd taiinileroy has beei a great feature iu the past year of St. Nicholas.

W«r Stories 'or Boys and firls Gen Badeau, chlef-o'— afT. biographer, ^nrt confidential fri. id of (i -i eral Ur*ut, an'J 0

of the ablest aud most .popular oi nvit mi liary writers, will contributea uuu.bar of napers scribing in clear and vivid style some of the leading bait ies of the civil war, They II be panoramic. de-.-cilptloim oi Hlngle contests nr

Knort

campaign", preserving KOri of literaly plci ure-galln' uf the gr nd and heroic ooutests In whli-h the parents of many a boy arid rl of »o-day took part

The Serial Storie* include "Joan and '.lari'ta »n admirably writtea story of •lexlcan lire, l-y Frances Coartenay Bay- .. auihor of ''0 Both M'les" al*o, enny a Boariitng-House," by James Oils, nsloiyn' 1 fe tn agrtat city. Short Articles, in«t'uct'vM»nd entprtolniiig, will -.bound Amocg these arr.-"Ilow a Great Panorama is Made," by Theodore

Divia, wlt profu-e lustrations "Wlunlrifc a Commission" (Sav.il Academy). and "KecolKctlon of the Naval Academ v,: Boring for U.1"and "Among the Gas-weiln, wnb a uu ber of utrikne plcur.s "Cu!ld-*ketcbes rrom George Eli -t." by Julia Magruder: "Victor Hugo'g Tales to Ills Grandchildren," recounted t»v Bra der Mntthew^ ^HIblor Girl .."'by S. Brooks Also interesting contri ulions from "ora Perry, Harriet rasoottSpoffjril, Jouquin Miller, H. H. t-'oysen, Watulngtoii Gladden, A lie "JCellingtoo Rolil un T, Tiowor.dge Lieutenant Fre4*' ick S :h*atka, Nonh tiroiks, Grarie lrenio Litchfield, Hose Hawthorne Litbrop, Mrs. 8. M* Piatt, M»ry Mapes Uodga.anti. many others, etc,

Toe subsc iptlon price of Bt. Nicholas Is ti tO ear 2 cents ajnumber Hubscrlp»re relreveil by booksellers and newsdea^ lers ev6ry wnere, O' by publishers. volume begins with the November, eni for ur beau etui lllustra'ei catalogue (fret) containing foil prospectus, etc ate

THIS OS*10BY 0O KB iV-YOdJL.

...