Greenfield Republican, Greenfield, Hancock County, 27 September 1889 — Page 3

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IT MAY NOT BE.

JOHN G. WHITTIEK.

It may not be our lot to wield The sickle in the ripened field Nor ours to hear on summer eves The reaper's song among the sheaves. Yet when our duty's task is wrought In unison with God'fe great thought, The near and future blend in one, And whatsoe'er is willed is done. And ours the grateful story whence Comes day by day the recompense The hope, the trust, the purpose stayed, The fountain and the noonday shade. And were this life the utmost span, The only end and aim of man, Better the toil of fields like these Than wakeful dreams and slothful ease. But life though falling like our grain, Like that revives and springs again' And early called how blest are. they Who wait in Heaven their harvest day.

TOO LATE.

A Stay of St. Valentine's Day,

CHAPTER VI (CONTINUED). "I think," his sister continued •'that a m^n's nature is essentially different from a wddfian's, grander in some things, infinitely smaller in others. His own love seems to fill his life, satisfying- him by the measure it gives more than by that it receives, and so, by a paradox, it is selfish. True love is not entirely in itself, it is dual: a woman's heart would wither if love did not come in as freely as it went out. Andrew, as well marry an abstraction. It seems to me you would cage a wild bird for its plumage, and turn a careless ear to its song. What is it you love in Nell? Is it her beauty, her gracious womanhood, or what?" •'Janet, it is just herself." •'No. Andrew,you have missed that. Nell's 'self is far beyond your ken.11 "Then how could it have stooped to Lyon Leslie? He loved many things far better than Nell Thanet. Then will you tell me why she loved him?1' "Why did she love him ?—curious fool, be still:

Is human love the growth of human will?' And, feeling that she could not bring her argument to a logical conclusion, and so convince her brother, for logic had no place in the subject, Janet, with that unanswerable quotation, abandoned the topic.

A glance assured Xell that her old acquaintance Stubbs was beyond human aid. He did not seem to have many hours to live. With much tenderness, she told him she could do nothing for him—that no one could.

He replied that he had an inner conviction that his case was hopeless but that he had had an idea a woman doctor, being "out of the common like,'1 might know something out of the common—it was a chance, he :said and then he smiled a wan smile, adding— "And I'm one of a chancy lot, you now well." After a pause, he added— J-'But I always minded how you got I'Dick1 the Squire's red terrier,through jjjthat bad turn he took of a suddint, and which we thought was poison but as you said as was nothing but a spell of indigestion along of eating the pig's liver he stole. I said at the time to my missus that you'd make a rare vet. An' I was right, only you practices on two-legged animals."

He was silent for a few moments, as if in thought, and his eyes were shut. Nell apoke some earnest words of counsel and hope: but he did not respond. Then she took his hand to bid him farewell. "Miss," he said, looking up at her with a deprecating look in his dim eyes, "I never laid a hand on Nettle. I was faithful to every hoss as was trusted to me, and, if a man's done his duty to his master here, mayhap his Master up there"—pointing upwards— "won't be so hard on him on account kf other little matters." "Never mind thes good you have done, (Stubbs,11 said Nell, gently. "Only be sorry for the ill that is all that is wanted." "But I was main true to the Squire, I was," he persisted. "I knowed he hadn't a fardin1 on Nettle, that he never laid nothink on races, and that if the hoss didn't win the Derby, he was safe for the rest and as it was the matter of a couple of thousand, and I was heavy on something myself, I took it. It was all SwellyJock.it was—'im as called 'isself the Baron— and I put a chunk of summat in the jock's glass afore he started it was summat that had to do with the eyes, and he didn't ride straight that was how it was. The jock—it was Tibbies —was queer like for some days after, an' the doctors called it 'cipient hapo"plexy Ah, miss, you were not practising then, or we'd maybe not got off so free!"—and he chuckled with a lingering spice of the old Adam. "Oh, Stubbs, how dreadful!" Tha'. was all Nell said. "I sees it now, miss at least it looks queer loike now only, you see, I /fe didn't do any hurt to the hoss, and it didn't matter in a money way to

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fill

master whether he won or not. But

I'm real sorry, miss, I am now. $eems to me as right and wrong's got clearer *^to me since I've been laid by. You'll 'j0 tell the Squire, won't you, when I'm ^hgono? He's a grand gentleman, an' mayhap he'll look at the bit of sod as111 cover me soon and say—'Stubbs,

I forgive you,' When she got back to the Hall, Nell told the Squire the groom's story, drawing his penitence with, a tender touch and the same afternoon, the ., great-hearted gentleman rode Nettle ^,

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over to the Duke's stables, and took his old servant by the hand. It was nearly four,and getting dusk but the groom's cot was drawn to the little lattice-paned window over the

stables, and Nettle was led to a point from which he could be clearly seen. At Stubb's request, the window was opened he was raised on his pillow. With a great effort, he uttered a long peculiar whistle, by which he had been used to attract the attention of the horse when he wished to put him on his mettle.

In a moment the noble animal pricked up its ears, pawed the ground impatiently and whinnied. "He's forgiv' me too," said the groom. "He knows I wouldn't 'ave 'armed a hair of his body. Just listen to him!"—as the horse whinnied loud and long. "An' they call "em dumb animals! Seems to me as they knows 'ow to speak their thoughts better nor most folks."

Then he made another effort, blew another whistle, and fell back exhausted.

That night Stubbs finished the race for which he had entered so many years gone, but whether to be scored first or last, who can tell?—"The race is not always to the swiTt."

CHAPTER VII.

Nell returned co her duties in London with eager spirits, for she was sure at heart. She had refused her cousin Andrew. His very faithfulness reproached her, and yet seemed to alienate her from him, for she had nothing, not even hope to give in return. "Nell, I shall never despair until I see you another's," were his parting words. "And then?'' she asked, as if involuntarily. wondering at such steadfastness. "And then I shall make the best of life, though life will have taken its best from me. I may fill sDme other woman's needs: but none but you, Nell, could ever fill mine."

The conviction that Randall was not suited to his profession became each day stronger in his sister. She felt that lie had undertaken a grave responsibility for which he was constitutionally unfitted. The same conviction had lately forced itself upon Randall, and he chafed at the chains that bound him to his post. Hitherto he had had no very intricate case, none to which his knowledge had not been equal, supplemented by his sister's advice, and actual assistance in some instances.

It was New Year's Eve. The twins had had a busy day, for the snow was deep on the ground, the town was full and there was much sickness abroad. They had. dined, and were sitting over a blazing fire comparing notes of their separate day's work. "Thank goodness," said Randall, "my cases are all plain saijing. Now, if another hitch comes"—meaning a case beyond his skill—"I'll throw up the sponge. I give you my word, Nell, I never take on a new patient but I feel like a murderer and, I tell you what in all seriousness—if I don't kill my patients, they'll kill me! I'd never get through a consultation, only I do the Burleigh nod, and always side with the biggest fellow. There are very few that like to say 'ba' when Sir Billy Genera, as the wags call him, says

4bo'!

Regularly established diseases,

common fevers and epidemics, gout and all that sort of thing I'm not afraid of. One can't cure these things —they run themselves out all you have to do is to help them over the difficult passes. I don't believe in physicking-, that has had its day but its the intricate cases I do fear, and those you seem born for. I often think mother's right when she says you're 'no canny.'" 'It is because they interest me," she said simply, "and because I love my calling first and foremost. If I had any woman's future to hope for, any great object outside my work, I should not be what I am. The enthusiasm of humanity brooks no rival to that and absoluto concentration I owe my power and success." "I think,1' said Randall, hesitatingly," I might do something in literature but that demands concentration. Nell, 1 should like to shelve it all. But for the disappointment of my father, I would: he thinks me far cleverer than you." "Dear father!" returned Nell. "He's not so far wrong only he's made the mistake of putting a round stick in a square hole. I believe you could make a mark in literature, you have a creative brain science deals only with facts. Let us see, when our accounts are made up for the year, how we stand and, if my score is enough, why take your name off the door—a few days' wonder—that is all."

At that moment the door bell rang sharply it was sudden call for Randall. A Colonel Gordon, who had just arrived from India, had been taken ill at an hotel near at hand, and required immediate aid. With a heavy sigh, Randall obeyed the call. "Some intricate liver case, you may be sure, or chronic Indian fever, about which I know as much as of dentistry," he said, as Nell helped him ou with his comfortable ulster.

It was neither it was even more serious, because imminent. A wound, caused by a bullet which had defied extraction, had suddenly broken out, and erysipelas threatened.

Nell awaited her brother's return in much anxiety she always was anxious when a fresh patient came on his books. In an hour he returned, looking ,iaded and worn. "What have you done?" she asked, after he had named the symptoms and described the state of the patient.

Ho told her. "Have you sent for a nurse?" she asked. "He said his sister, who is in the country, would be in town in a day or two, and his own servant, a soldier, would be up in the morning with his traps so I gfave him a sedative, and told him I'd look in again before twelve. There's a good deal of fever: so there really was nothing more that

txmld Yje done. A housemaid is to sit up with him." "Did Colonel Gordon speak much to you, Randall?" "No, poor fellow: he

scarcely

opened

his eyes. He only knew I was a doctor, and never asked my name. He is a fine man, but terribly wasted. I dare say his sister will call in her own doctor if she doesn't, I shall suggest it. It will be a long case, if indeed it doesn't end badly." "Randall, I will go at twelve o'clock, instead of von. There will be no one up except the porter, and it would take very keen sight to tell us apart in a dim light. I'll put on my ulster and a muffler.''

Nell spoke as one who would not be gainsaid but, if the truth were told, Randall had no will to gainsay her he was, in fact, relieved of a weight.

When the hour came, the brother and sister set off together. Randall saw his sister safe into the.hotel, remaining in the neighborhood on a watch for her re-appearance.

The patient lay on a half-tester bed, in a large comfortable room, where was a cheerful fire, near which, in an arm chair, sat the attendant, halfasleep. A shaded lamp stood on a distant table, on which was arranged various cooling drinks.

Before approaching the bed, Nell questioned the maid, who told her that her charge had slept for two hours, but since then had been restless, and calling for water or lemonade every few minutes. "I don't think he knows veiy well where he is," said the girl "he talks like a man in his sleep, and fancies he's in a ship."

Xell desired the girl to fetch a candle, for which she had to leave the room. As the door closed a little noisily, the sick man moved and moaned. Nell approached the bed, gently drawing- the curtain aside.

The flickering light of the fire's uncertain blaze, and the dim reflection of Ihe lamp revealed a man in the prime of life, but attenuated and worn. One thin hand lay on the coverlet—the bedclothes had been pushed off the upper part of the body, as if in petulance of fever, and the broad chest showed shrunken and hollow—the face was averted. Nell quietly stooped over and laid her fingers on the pulse of the extended hand.

He gave a shiver, as if an electric thrill had passed through his body, and turned on his pillow, opening his eyes bright with fever light. Nell staggered back, clutching at a chair for support. "My love, my love!" she cried to her heart but her lips were dumb. "Water, water!" the sick man moaned.

With an almost superhuman effort, she retained her consciousness the very shock roused her to action and to repression.

She went to the table and mixed a cooling draught. As she did so her eyes fell on an envelope addressed, "Colonel Leslie Gordon, V. C."—a hero's name to the world.

Well Nell Thanet knew it! She had read of its owner's gallant deeds, and her heart had felt pride in her mother's countryman. Little had she guessed that the Lyon Leslie, who had to her played such a craven part, was the brave soldier of the world's and her admiration. Then she remembered that he had spoken to her of a bachelor uncle named Gordon, from whom he had expectations. Everything was plain to her now and very strange it seemed to her that she had not guessed her lover's identity before.

It was a steady hand that held the frothing draugth to the sick man's lips, and a firm strong hand that lifted the hot head but her eyes felt burning in her head they* looked unnaturally large. "Oh, so soothing!" ho whispered, looking gratefully into her face.

She met his eyes daringly again he shivered, then, unrecognizing, closed them in fitful slumber.

When the girl returned, Nell examined the wound. It presented an ugly exterior but she knew that the real mischief lay in the location of the bullet the exact spot of which had, Randall had said, not been discovered. It would be a case of the utmost difficulty and far beyond her brother's skill but strange to say she felt no apprehension of her own. Standing over the prostrate form of the man who had so heartlessly blasted her young life, she vowed that to her hand, and hers alone, he should owe his.

J^o bitterness, no reproach entered her heart, only a great pitifulness, and a sorrow for him apart from herself. She was standing by a grave—though she knew it not, from which their could be no resurrection, the grave of her love but the ashes were there— and, ah, how tenderly the foot treads over the sepulchre of the dead how holy seems their memory!

Then she told the girl that a change had taken place in the condition of the patient, and that she must remain beside him for the night. She then left the hotel to make some arrangements, she said, and, after a few explanatory words to her brother*—explanatory merely of the patient's state —she returned, and, dismissing the servant, took up her place beside the sick man.

The hours slipped by—-she scarcely knew they passed—she took no note of time. The reality of the stricken man, the strangely still room, her presence there, seemed all a dim dream, and what had for these dividing years been but as a dim dream a vivid reality—the little stream, with its fragile freight of tho blue forget-me-nots—the quiet lake bearing on its bosom the one brave spray—the rapturous kiss, the spoken words, and the deep passionate gaze of eyes too well remembered. Swiftly, as in a panorama, that summer's day passed before her—it did not pain her now. Somehow her heart was at rest, the dull aching of the deep wpund was over.

At every movement she bent

OTer

him, now easing his pillow, now laving his brow, then gently touching his lips with moisture, or answering his craving cry of "water" with cooling draughts. Now and again he would open his eyes and look round, as if expecting some known face but then she would stand in the shadow, or droop her head beside the shrouding curtain, and he would sigh and turn wearily away. And so the night passed. As the faint light of morning appeared, the fever had ceased, and the sick man had sunk into a refreshing slumber. Then Xell laid for one brief moment her lips on his brow but it was only a kiss of peace—she felt she could pray then. By previous arrangement, Mrs. Mclan, the old nurse who had been the twins' constant attendant, and indeed friend, since they had left their home together, took Nell's place in the sick-room, leaving her free to return to her brother.

It was needful for her purpose

chat

she should tell her brother that his new patient was Lyon Leslie, of her girlish love. She did so in as few words as she could command. He said very little, but he threw his arms around her as if he would shield her from a coming sorrow, and held her to his breast in a sympathising silence that tried her fortitude to the utmost. "Randall," she whispered, "do not fe:ir for me. There are no birds in l#,st year's nest but her voice belied her words.

In the course of the day Colonel Gordon's servant arrived from Southampton with his master's luggage, and, under Randall's superintendence, the former was moved into quiet rooms within a few doors of his own house, and Mrs. Mclan was installed in chief charge.

A letter was written to the Colonel's sister stating his conditon and the means adopted for his care. The attendance in the day-hours was taken by Randall, in the evening by Xell. In lier shrouding ulster and wrapper and low felt hat, she attracted no observation: if she had. there would have been little fear of being discovered, so perfect was the likeness between the pair, a likeness intensified by similarity of dress.

Fortunately for the part Nell was playing, Colonel Gordon's sister was in delicate health, and seldom visited her brother in the evening-. A note was sent to her the last thing at night to keep her apprised of his condition. In this way Nell felt pretty secure from detection. Her directions, too, were always given to Mrs. Mclan, who generally managed to find something for the soldier-servant to do—a message, or clothes to air—at the hour of Nell's visit.

And the sick man lay unheeding, slowly mending towards a partial recovery. There had been a consultation, at which Randall was present, und it was agreed that, unless the bullet was discovered and extracted, the patient must eventually succumb to the wasting weakness induced by the open wouScl and it was settled that, when he had rallied sufficiently, he should be put under an anaesthetic and the probe applied.

During these anxious d&ys Nell sat late into the night, deep in earnest study. Her face grew thinner and her eyes unnaturally bright. Each evening, before her visit to the sick room, she made Randall sit down and go with careful minuteness into every symptom he had noted. These she wrote down.

Scarcely any words were exchanged between her and her old lover. He was generally inclined to sleep if not actually asleep, at the late hour of her visit but, if awake, he would ask her to arrange his pillows, as, somehow, he found she had a knack "nuree" had not. He liked too the doctor's mixing of the effervescing drink at night, and always insisted on her giving it to him herself. "You manage me better at night somehow, doctor," he said one day "you always soothe me, arid your voice is softer than in tho day. It puts me in mind of someone but I can't tell who.'1

Nell was very guarded after that speech, and spoke little and then in as deep a voice as she could command. And day by day the girl grew more fragile, and her sweet earnest face more spiritual.

In these night visits she was in the habit of wearing a false mustache, closely resembling her brother^, which was long and silky and covered the mouth. This precaution against detection was needful, but none the less distasteful to her feeling there was at stake her brother's reputation on one hand, and on the other the very life perhaps of the one man she had loved above all the world.

At last the day came when she said to Randall that she thought their patient was sufficiently strong to undergo the probing for the bullet. "Nell," he said, "can you take my place?" "Yes," she answered "I wish it. I shall use the probe myself. Lady Masters"—Colonel Gordon's sister— "wishes her own doctor to be present —he is an old man, I believe." "Yes," said Randall, "seventy at least I have only seen him once, and then in the dusk. "Then it will only be necessary to call in Sir William Cheque he knows the case." "Perfectly. Lady Masters told me he spoke to her about her brother, and mentioned how skillful he thought my treatment had been but all the same he didn't know me when I met him at his own door yesterday. I took off my hat to him, and he stared as if I had taken a liberty. You'll be quite safe, I'm sure. He's a great big man, and men of less stature always look smaller than they really are to tall men." "Nurse," said Colonel Gordon, on tho morning arranged for the consultation, "what is the doctor's name? I

never hsard it. He has only been 'the doctor,' to me." "Randall, sir," replied Mrs. Mclan, after a moment's hesitation. •'I like his night-visits best." he said. "Somehow the very sound of his foot soothes me."

Colonel Gordon was stronger and altogether in a more favorable state— so said Sir William Cheque, than on the occasion of his—Sir William's— previous visit. The fever had disappeared, and he was able to take a considerable quantity of nourishment there were points in his favor he had hardly expected: but he expressed his decided opinion that the amendment would be only temporary, unless the bullet was traced and extracted, and of that he supposed there was little hope. "None that I can see," said Doctor Parr, Lady Master's doctor, who had seen the patient more than once: "and I doubt, if it were found, if he would stand the necessary operation."

These words had passed out of range of their subject's hearing. Then Nell, standing well in the shade, made a short concise statement, which riveted Sir William's attention. He was a liberal-minded man, and free from all professional jealousy. He saw the young man before him had thoroughly mastered the case, and his interest was roused to see how he would follow it out to the end he indicated. He was a man. though, of few words so ho contented himself with an approving- nod, and then approached the bed. '•You have been in very skillful hands, Colonel Gordon,'" ho said. "You may owe your life to my young friend here. I am happy to tell you he has every reason to suppose that he has traced the enemy. A little courage and we'll get him out. We will give you an anaesthetic and you'll know nothing about it." (TO I:K VL'INI E0

For the Fat and the Lean. To increase in weight: Eat, to the extent of satisfying a natural appetite, of fat meats, butter, cream, milk, cocoa, chocolate, bread, potatoes, peas, parsnips, carrots, beet, farinaceous foods, as Indian corn, rice, tapioca, sago, corn starch, pastry, custards, oatmeal, sugar. Avoid acids. Exercise as little as possible, sleep all you can and don't worry or fret.

To reduce the weight: Eat, to the extext of satisfying a natural appetite, of lean meat, poultry, game, eggs, milk, moderately, green vegetables, turnips, succulent fruits, tea or coffee. Drink lime-juice, lemonade and acid drinks. Avoid fat, butter, cream, sugar, pastry, rice, sago, tapioca, corn starch, potatoes, carrots, beets, parsnips and sweet wines. Exercise freely.

Wetting Feed is "Wasteful. A writer on this subject says he changed from dry feed of grain for his cow to putting it into a pail of warm water night and morning. At the end of ^hree months she had lost fifty pounds in weig'ht of flesh, and her milk had fallen off nearly one-half. She seemed to be getting little benefit from her rations and there was a general running down in condition. He then changed the food back to dry, and in three months the cow regained all she had lost in flesh and milk during the preceding three months. While feeding this he could never dotect any waste of food in the fa?ces, but in the wetted food he could. Feeding horses wet food sometimes produces dangerous attacks of colic, but in cows there is no danger of it.

Knapsacks for Books. The German doctors arc exhorting parents to provide young girls between the ages of eleven and fourteen with knapsacks for carrying their schoolbooks, as the tendency of carrying them under the arm or in portfolios or bags hung from the arm is to distort their figures. In many parts of Germany this equipment is already in use, and to the unaccustomed eye of the stranger nothing is more comical than suddenly to come upon a crowd of little girls trooping out of school, each provided with a knapsack for the march. The next funniest thing to be seen among school children on the continent is the long pipe or the bilious cigarette of the diminutive Dutch bov.

An Ostrich Mother.

At Dr. Skitchley's ostrich ranch, near Red BlulT, Cal., is a pen in which a hen ostrich is sitting on 13 eggs. She covers the eggs nicely, and as she sits there with her long neck and head laid at full length on the ground, looks like a moss-covered rock. Her hus^band keeps guard over her in very picturesque fashion, walking up and down the fence with stately tread, his rich, glossy plumage glistening in the sunlight, and his eyes flashing defiance. He looks ready to tackle any thing, man or beast, that should disturb tho privacy of his home.

Looking lor Greater Miracles. "Well, this do beat all!" exclaimed Aunt Harriet, as they took their first ride on the elevated "who'd 'a' thought o' railroadin' in the air?" "Sho!" replied Uncle Abncr "my newspaper says that a big part o' the railroad companies of New York arcrun largely on water, and that's the kind o' road I want to see afore we go home."

High-Priced Property. Citizen (to darkey): "Do you knovi the agent who has control of this corner lot, Sam?"

Sam: "Yes, sah, the agent will bo heah d'rectly. I has cha'ge of tho property." (Tosmall boy): "Hi there, yo' young white trash, stop frowin' mud balls off'ri dat corner lot. Dat real estate is sold by tho inch."

The largest farm in America is the Grandin wheat Held in Dakota. It contains 40.000 acres.

THE REORGANIZED ATCHISON.

Gossip Concerning the Future Financial Policy of the Company. Commenting on the reorganization of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroad company and the resignation of President Strong the Railway Review says: "It has of course occasioned a great deal of gossip as to the Santa Fe's finances and its future policy. The Santa Fe is unquestionably in very bad shape financially it is practically bankrupt and were it not for advances made by the banking interests which lately took hold of the property it would now be in the hands of a receiver. There is a practical certainty that the road will yet go into the courts unless the bankers again advance moneys to pay its fixed charges. They will in all probability do this, for they b.ave interests at stake which would be seriously imperilled if the Santa Fe were to default. The Barings, who with others are behind Banker Magoun, now the chairman of the Santa Fe directory, have placed vast sums in American railway bonds. Tb has been stated (and we learn through excellent authority that the statement is true) that the Barings bave, during the last five years, placed over $500,000,01)0 of foreign money in American railway bonds and that it is their proud boast that default has not been made upon $1 of this vast investment. In the nature of things they cannot afford to allow -Sarita Fe to default, and thus break their brilliant record and there is good reason to believe that they will not. Say that $2,500,00!) was put up this year to carry Santa Fe, and that as much more will! be required at the expiration of tho current half year, this $5,000,000 would be but a bagatelle to the Barings and their fellow operators, as compared to the enormous values which would be jeopardized by a default by the Santa Fe. If these banking interests carry this property along in this manner it is possible that, upon the expiration of a second six months, affairs—traffic and general—will bs in such condition that it will bo feasible to refund the' Santa Fe's indebtedness at, lower rates, and readjust its finances under a general mortgage, as the Reading, the St. Paul, and the Northern Pacific have found it advisable and practicable to do. The policy of those now directing the Santa Fe's affairs is. as far as it can now be interpreted, apparently leading to some such end. "Mr. Strong's position is one in which he seems to have been unfairly thrust. All who are acquainted with the Santa Fe system and with Mr. Strong's abilities and methods know it is eminently unjust to charge up the present deplorable condition of the property to him. Mr. Strong was distinctively the right man in the right place for the Santa Fe until he was taken east against his desire to assume duties for which he was nolf fitted, and which he performed under, tho direction of those who are responsible for the present condition of the, property. With the necessity for a radical change of policy, however, it* became desirable, in the eyes of the directory, to change the executive,, and accordingly Mr. Strong leaves the' road which he has so ably served for. years. It looks very much as though: a scapegoat was needed and quickly found."

The Iron Crown.

The "iron crown," which worked up the minds of the people of the middle ages to such an extent that it became an object of adoration, was, in fact, a crown of gold, but the secret of the magic name rested on the tradition' that the inside ring of iron was made from the nails driven through the hands and feet of Jesus at the time of his crucifixion.

Tho crown was first used in a regal coronation byAtrilulf. king of the Lombards, in the year 591, having been made for that monarch by the order of his wife, the Princess Thuedelinde.

The crown was afterward sent as a present to the church at Monza, the queen, herself a great devotee, being the donor.

It was used by Charlemagne at the ceremony in connection with his coronation and after him by all tho emperors who were also kings of Lombardy. Napoleon I., it is said, put this crown upon his head when at Milan in 1806, saying: "God has given it to mo. Woe unto him who shall touch it."

Napoleon founded the Order of the Iron Crown, but it speedily fell into disuse after the events of Waterloo and the fall of "The Great Woodman of Europe," as Victor Hugo has seen fit to call the "Little Corporal."

To be a member of this order is still regarded as the highest of honor in Austria, where it still flourishes, having been revived by Francis I. in 1816. The iron crown is now in Naples, among the state treasures. It was taken by the Austrians to Vienna in 1859, but was presented to the king of Italy in 1866, who deposited it, as above related, with the other royal relics in the museum at Naples.

Sport in Scotland.

The value to Scotland of the opportunities for sport is very large. The deer forests, of which there aro 100, covering 3,000 square milos of landuseless for agriculture, rent for £100, 000 annually. Twelve thousand fivo hundred pounds of this goes to the local taxes. If any forest fails to be rented tho whole neighborhood feels it greatly in the diminished amount of money expended there. The grouso moors rent for £4-10,00 and £5,000 in taxes. Most salmon rivers are let with tho moors, but some are rented alone and add a considerable sum to the total already given.

A Slight Jlistako.

Afresh young bride from Ohio hav-f ing heard that camphor fumes would banish flies, put on her kitchen range a lot of supposed lumps of camphor. They melted and spread out, and all the flies for squares away came swarming to them. The despairing bride consulted an experienced matron next, door, who discovered that the supposed camphor war roccandy.