People's Pilot, Volume 4, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 July 1894 — Page 7

WHEN THE CIRCUS COMES. My heart it gtts V throbbin*, with a thrillin’, happy glee, ►N the days o’ way back yonder comes o-rushin’ over me; X can see the clown a-winkin'—hear the rattlin’ o’ the drams; 11B»1 like whoopin’ glory, when the CirCus Cornea I gtt all la a quiver, jest don’t have a bit o* sense, When 1 see them party picters bein' plastered on the fence: *N in my quiet slumbers I can hear the rat-tat-turns the music, ’n the playin’, when the CirCus Comes. ’There's a kind o’ feller reelin’ that never will belaid. 'Tween me ’n roasted goobers, 'n reddish lemonade, For they bring a reooleckshun o' the bustle 'n the hum O’ the sleepy little village, when the CirCus Comes. —Atlanta Constitution.

THE OLD MILL MYSTERY

By Arthur W. Marchmont, B. A.

Anther of “Miser HoacHey’s Secret,” “Madeline Power,” “By Whose Hand,” “ Isa,” Ac , Ac. (Copyright, 189 S, by the AathorJ CHAPTER Xl— Continued. Mary was the first to recover her aelf-possession, and rose from the ground with a feeling of intense thankfulness to God for the escape which she had had from death. Gibeon Prawle was unable to rise for some time; but Mary, when once she had satisfied herself that he was unhurt, felt that she need not stay longer with him. “You can get home now, Gibeon, -can’t you?” she asked. “Yes,” he replied somewhat faintly. “Are you going?” “Yes, I want to get home. Mother will wonder where I am, and this explosion will frighten her.” “Mary,” he called to her, as she was moving away, “are you going to say anything about what you heard tonight; or will you leave it to me?” “Those men tried to take my life,” -exclaimed the girl, shuddering. “I had done them no barm, and should have done nothing. But now I shall make no promises.” “Don’t bring me into it, lass,” whined the man. “Let me be a witness to bear out what you say. I know all the details. I could fix it on the others there.” The girl’s lip curved in her scorn at the man’s cowardice. “I have saved your life for you; for the rest, you must take your chance with the others.” “Spare me, Mary; for God’s sake don’t bring me into it,” he called to her as she walked away, and when she did not answer he fell back on the ground and almost wept in his alarm and anxiety. The girl’s nerves had been sorely shaken by the events of the night, ind she was anxious to get home. The path lay near the scene of the explosion, and as she passed she met numbers of people of all classes rushing out from the village to learn the cause of the commotion. For a moment she stood amongst them, listening to the expressions of Alarm and wonder that were freely indulged in on all hands as the people clustered round the site of the explosion.

Presently, to her astonishment, Mary recognized Hamer. He was moving actively about, searching everywhere among the debris, indulging in loud exclamations of astonishment and curiosity as to what had happened. After ■awhile, Mary observed two more of the men, whose manner and looks were in striking contrast to the easy indifference of Hamer. They were pale, and it struck the girl that they were searching for what they feared to find. They stood for a moment in conference, and the girl judged from Hamer’s gestures that he was endeavoring to reassure the other two. When they separated, Mary moved to a point where she could intercept them, and then she approached them unobserved. Just as she reached them she overheard Hamer say to the others: “Nonsense, men. Go away and sink your fears in a pot of ale, and find some Dutch courage if you can’t manage any of your own. How the devil can either of them have escaped? The girl hadn’t a notion of the plant; and she was bound hand and foot, even if she had; while that white-livered coward, Prawle, couldn’t have got back his few flllly wits in time to tell her anything. What chance do you suppose you would have had if you’d been nursing that machine? Why, there wouldn't have been as much of you left clinging together as would cover a shilling. Bah! I’ve no patience with skunks. Dead tongues can’t clatter, that’s the long Ind the short of it.”

“No, you’re right, Jos Hamer. Dead tongues can’t clatter. But you’re not a murderer yet, for all your effort.” As Mary said this, she moved close to the three men and looked steadily at them. The two looked round as if wishing to run away. But Hamer returned her gaze sturdily, steadily and -defiantly. “What do you mean? Who are you calling murderer? Who are you? What ■do you want bothering me?” “That indifference may do with others, but not with me,” answered the girl, firmly. Then as a thought fltruck her. she added: “All I say Gibeon Prawle is ready to confirm.” “The hound!” muttered the man. Then, sullenly. “What do you want?” Mary now thought how best she could serve her lover, and framed her conditions in that view. “I shall say nothing if by to-morrow evening all the men who were in the shed last night have left the village, never to return. Those who stop will find themselves in the hands of the police.”

CHAPTER XU “THEY SAT THAT TOM ROTI.ANCE IS A THTEY." On the following day Mary was unable to go to the mill. The strain and the excitement of the previous night had made her ill, and she had to keep her bed. In the evening she was worse, and for some days she suffered from a species of low fever. On the third day Savannah told her that the strike was over and that several of the more prominent strikers had left the village. “Has Gibeon Prawle gone with the rest?” she asked. “No,” answered Savannah. “I hear that he’s been round to Gorringe to beg to be taken back again. But, of course, he isn’t to be.” “I should think not,” cried Mary, “after having been the cause of all the trouble.” “Gorringe is in high spirits at having beaten the men,” said Savannah. “He thinks he’s done it all. That’s always the way with your masterful men.” “I’m glad he’s won,” said Mary. She had noticed a change in Savannah’s manner towards her during the days she had been shut up by her iUness and it had made her thoughtful. “Why are you glad? Do you like him?” asked Savannah, quickly, looking keenly and searchingly at Mary. “Like him? What has that to do with the strike? lam glad, because if he had not won the strike would have had to go on indefinitely. He would never have given in.” “Ugh! Sometimes I hate him!” cried Savannah, flashing out into sudden rage. “He’s a devil!” “Savannah!” exclaimed Mary, in astonishment at the other’s quick vehemence. “Why, what has he done to make you say that?” “I hate him!” cried the girl again, the anger flashing out of the depths of her dark blue eyes while her face crimsoned with passion. “I hate him! If I had a chance I’d kill him!” “Savannah, what is it? What has he done to you to make you like this to him?” said Mary, gently laying her hand on the other’s. “What has he done? Why, he — But what is it to you?” she cried, snatching her hand from Mary’s, and turning on her with quick impetuous fury. “What do you come sneaking and trying to catch me tripping for, and saying that which you think will give you a hold over me, with your fawning touch and your false softness? You are all false. You are all against me. You are all devils together. But you don’t catch me tripping—not till I had my way and won my purpose. So don’t you think it;” and with a loud, mocking laugh she hurrried out of the room, leaving Mary full of wonderment and fear at her strange words and stranger manner.

But Mary in the days of her illness had a greater trouble than Savannah’s eccentricity. Tom came only very seldom to the cottage to ask after her; and in all the week that she lay in bed she did not once see him. She saw Reuben Gorringe before she saw Tom. He had called at the cottage every day when he had learnt of her illness, and had brought her fruit and flowefs and delicacies. “You have been ill, indeed,” he said, taking her hand, and looking into her eyes with a look of grave concern on his dark face. “And you have been winning battles over the men,” she said, and smiled, not very brightly, although the man’s sympathy touched her. “Yes, we have won. But it is as much your victory as mine,” he said. “Why? What do you mean?” This with a quick look. “That you took the same side as I. If you had gone against me I should not have attempted to fight. You are all in all to me still, Mary.” The girl’s rather pale face flushed under the look which accompanied these words.

“Mr. Gorringe”—she began. “Stay. I forgot myself, Mary. lam sorry. I won’t offend again. I know what you would say. But the look of you so pale and weak and feeble made me forget myself and my promise—everything but my feelings. I am a selfish brute. But there, it’s past. Forgive me.” And he held out his hand. She gave him hers for a moment, and then withdrew it. She could not be angry with him. “Now tell me,are you really stronger? I want to know that particularly, I have reasons.” “Yes, I am quite strong.” “What caused your illness?” “I—T scarcely know. A chill, most likely. Caught on the night when that strange explosion took place. Did you ever find out what that was?” asked Mary, shuddering involuntarily at the recollection of the time. “Never. But I have my suspicions.” “What are they?” “I believe an attempt was intended to be made upon the mill and that in gjme way, how 1 know not, it was frustrated.” f Mary was silent. “But there is another matter I want

to speak of. As the bother with the people is now over, there’ll be no need to take such care where the hands lodge. You have done well to keep Savannah Morbyn here so long, but now she can look for some other place.” “Are you going to keep her on at the mill?” asked Mary. “You would not have me turn away those who stood by me in the time of trouble, would you?” he asked, not quite at his ease. “But there is no reason why she should not get lodgings elsewhere.” “I don’t wish to turn her out,” said Mary. “Mother and I are used to having her now in the house, though at first I was a little scared at her goings on at times. She’s a bit queer.” “Eh? How do you mean a bit queer? What does she do?” “Oh, she doesn’t do anything,” answered Mary, with a feeble laugh. “But she says curious things.” “Then the sooner she is out of the house the better,” said Gorringe. and Mary was astonished at the earnestness of his tone. Gorringe rose directly afterwards to

“By the way, will you teH Tom that the new mule frames will be in early to-morrow, and that the earlier he can get at them the better?” “I will if I see him,” answered Mary, not meeting the other's eyes. “Won’t he be in, then, to-night?” “I don’t know,” she said, with a little hesitation. “If it’s important you’d better leave word at his cottage.” “Oh!” was all the reply that Reuben Gorringe made; but Mary seemed to read in it plenty of hidden meaning. She blushed, and then, woman-like, began to make excuses for Tom. “He has been so busy at the mUI lately that he has not had much time to be here,” she said. “Nay, not at the mill.” answered Gorringe, his heart beating high at the knowledge that Tom seemed to be neglecting her. “I have not kept him late once. He must have some other reason; some work at home, perhaps,” he said. But she understood the look he gave her when shaking hands, and she felt humiliated at finding herself in such a position. When her mother came into the room she found Mary lost in her dreams. “Why don’t you marry him, Mary?” she asked, after awhile, when she heard that Gorringe had been in. “Why don’t you marry him?” ’ Why should I prefer him to Tom, mother?” was her reply. “If you think Reuben Gorringe is the better man, you’re the only body in Walkden Bridge that thinks so.” “He’s a man that knows his mind, whether he’s better or worse in other things,” answered her mother sharply, “and that’s more than some other folks seem to do. If he gets a bite, he holds on. Look at his money, too.” “What of his money? He’s only manager at the mill.” “Ah, maybe. But he’s got a shed on his own account, and, I warrant me, he’s got a tidy sized stocking and that it’s pretty full. ” “Very likely. But I don’t want his money. I can earn enough to keep me, and I’d rather die a weaver lass and naught else than wed a man I couldn't love.” “Well, then, set to work and love Reuben Gorringe. If you weren’t so precious obstinate, you’d have done it long since, instead of maundering on with that Tom Roylance; fiddling and saddling about and doing naught else. I’ve no patience with you.” Mary made no reply to this. She had had more than one dispute with her mother on the same subject, and there had been high words between them occasionaHy. “Why don’t you do as I tell you, Mary, lass?” continued Mrs. Ashworth, aftei a pause in which she had waited vainly for a reply "I don’t want to talk about it now; I’m not well enough,” said Mary. But her mother did not mean to give up her efforts to induce Mary to take what she regarded as the proper course in regard to marriage. Moreover, she had turned against Savannah, and when Mary told her what Reuben Gorringe had said about the girl seeking some other lodging Mrs. Ashworth was pleased. “I’m glad of it, that I am. I’ll tell Savannah this very night what he’s said, and the sooner she packs the better. And there’s no reason now why we should keep her. Where is she now?” “I don’t know. Maybe with Tom’s father.”

“More likely with Tom himself,” said Mrs. Ashworth, speaking at random in her irritation, and having no particular meaning for the words. “Mother!” cried Mary. “Mary,” answered the mother, imitating her tone. “If you don’t want to drive me out of the room you won’t say such things as that,” said Mary, quietly. “They pain me.” “All right, my lass, I won’t say anything more.” She was fond of the girl, and had no wish to hurt her feelings. But she was very anxious to see her married to Reuben Gorringe, and was thus very often a most injudicious advocate of the latter’s cause. She went now to the girl’s side and bent over her and kissed her. “I’m sorry I grieved you, my lass,” she said. “It’s all right, mother,” answered ' Mary, looking up, and smiling. “I know what you wish, but it can’t be. I can’t marry a man without caring for him. It goes against nature. Try not to wish it or speak of it again.” 'She went out of the kitchen then, and thus the discussion ended, as all the talk on that subject did, by each keeping her own opinion. The next two or three days were a time of great trouble to the girl. She recovered her strength quickly, though she was not able to go to the mill, and indeed was compelled to stop in the house. But what perplexed and worried her most was the fact that Tom Roylance only came once to see her, and then only for a short time, during the whole of which he seemed ill at ease and quite unlike himself. Savannah Morbyn left the Ashworths’ cottage on the day after Reuben Gorringe had spoken about it. She went away with scarcely a word, simply telling Mary that she was going, and where she had found lodgings. Then came dreadful news. Savannah had been to sit with Mary two evenings, and on the evening of the day before Mary intended to go back to work she came in a state of great excitement. “What’s the matter, Savannah?” asked Mary. “Have you heard any news?” asked the other. “News? How should I hear news? I have not been out.” “Has no one been to see you?” “No.” “Have you seen Tom —Tom Roy lance?" asked Savannah. “No. What of him?” “Nay. That's what I would ask you.” “I» anything wrong. Savannah? What tn U’ Tall bm quick. Don’t

keep me hi suspense. What to ttr Mary spoke rapidly and eagerly. “I don’t know what it is,” answered the other girl, not meeting Mary’s eyes, which were fixed upon her face. “But I have heard.” “Then what is it? TeH me. You have come to teH me; why don’t you do so at once? If he is not ill, and nothing has happened to hurt him, it cannot be anything very serious. Is he leaving the mill, or has he quarreled with Reuben Gorringe?” Savannah bent her dark eyes on the others’ face. At the look Mary seemed to feel a strange fear chill her heart, but she would not, show it, and smiled. “What I have to tell you will be a shock to you,” said Savannah, deliberately. “Can you bear it?” “I can bear it better than your mysterious silence. What is it they say, and who are ’they?’ ” “They say that Tom Roylance is a thief,” said Savannah, in the same deliberate and impressive tone. Mary Ashworth burst into a laugh. “Then they are fools, whatever they are,” she said. “Tom a thief! The ideal why it’s preposterous!” Then her indignation rose fast. “But who are they who dare to take away his character? And what is it they dare to say he has stolen?” “Money,” answered Savannah. “The money of the sick fund of which he is secretary, and his accusers are the trustees. The money is missing.” “Shame on them!” cried Mary, fuming with indignant anger. “It’s a cock and bull story at the best Where is he?” Savannah did not notice the question. “They say the beoks have been examined and are found to be wrong, and that there is a considerable sum of money which ought to be tn hand, and that they can’t get it. He hasn’t it” “Silence, Savannah!” cried Mary, with sudden, fierce energy. "I’ll hear no more against him from anybody. It’s all a pack of lies fbm beginning to end, and I won’t have it even spoken of before me. Where is he?” Without waiting for 1 reply the girl rose from the easy chaih in which she had been sitting, and taking down her hat and jacket from behind the door began to put them on, her hands trembling and quivering with suppressed excitement. (TO BB CONTINUE D.J

CHANCE SAVED HIS LIFE.

Mistake of a Camel Which Birre an Ancient Grudge Against Its .Master. Revenge seems to be sweet even to animals. It is certain that they remember for long spaces of time injuries they have received. An instance of this is cited by a New York paper. A few years ago it chanced that a valuable camel, working in an old mill in Africa, was severely beaten by its driver, who, perceiving that the camel had treasured up the injury and was only waiting a favorable opportunity for revenge, kept a strict watch upon the animal. Time passed away. The camel, perceiving that he was watched, was quiet and obedient, and the driver began to think that the beating was forgotten. One night, after a lapse of several months, the man, who slept upon a raised platform in the mill, while, as is customary, the camel was stalled in a corner, happening to remain awake, observed by the bright moonlight that when all was quiet the animal looked cautiously around, rose softly, and stealing over toward the spot where a bundle of clothes andabernous thrown carelessly on the ground resembled a sleeping figure, cast itself with violence upon them, rolling with all its weight, and tearing them most viciously with its teeth. Satisfied that its revenge was complete, the camel was returning to his corner, when the driver sat up and spoke. At the sound of his voice, and perceiving the mistake it had made the animal was so mortified at the failure and discovery of the scheme that it dashed its head against the w all, and died on the spot.

Martial Astronomy.

Men may be good soldiers without being scholars, and it is also true that men may be amusing when they are weighed down by the gravest responsibilities. On the evening before a solar eclipse not long ago the colonel of a regiment of German infantry sent for all his sergeants and said to them: “There will be an eclipse of the sun to-morrow. The regiment will meet on the parade ground in undress. [ will come and explain the eclipse before the drill. If the day is cloudy the men will meet in the, drill shed aS usual.” The sergeants thereupon drew up the following order of the day: “To-morrow morning, by order of the colonel, there will be an eclipse of the sun. The regiment will assemble on the parade grounds, where the colonel will come and superintend the eclipse in person. If the day is cloudy the eclipse will take place in the drill shed.”—- Youth’s Companion.

A Ruin Feed.

The guest at the hotel table was not satisfied by a great deal with the menu and he was bad mannered enough to say so. “Perhaps, sir,” said the waiter, politely, “you’d like some of the rum punch.” “The what?” “The rum punch, sir.” “Well, bring it on and let me see. I’ve tried your rum meat and rum vegetables and rum bread and a dozen more rum things you’ve got here and maybe I won’t be disappointed in your rum punch. Bring it on and be in a hurry about it.”—N. Y. Recorder.

He Knew Jim.

Aunt (on a visit, distributing presents) —And who is to have this pretty little mouth organ? Papa (witn a sigh)—You had better give it to J im. Aunt—Why? Papar—He’ll smash it soonest.—Boetan Globe.

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