Plymouth Weekly Democrat, Volume 14, Number 25, Plymouth, Marshall County, 25 February 1869 — Page 1

WEEKLY DEMOCRAT. VOLLME XIV PLYMOUTH, INDIANA. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 25, L869. NUMBER 25.

PLYMOUTH

Doctii).

OHA wdmo TirEir nun;. r.Y BAIir.lKt ArPRFrtlT. (iBANDMrvTHBR sP in h TPiy ch'ilr, Softly hummfnj- om. rvd-time fcir; And a he sinus hr ncdtes keep jmce With tho !Tni '. thit flit over her wrinkled face. While the Breli-.'ht (Pokers and f-wlrs mv.iv, Ami comes agHU, like the br oking day. From morning till evenirrr she knit? find pings". While ever the urndnlnm tire'. win? The raomen1 around. ith it ick and' stroke, Norha.-tes for the fcatat, r..,r lag! for the yoke; a'kI Jrandmother Bgrer repines at hT fate M hetnf toe be at the " Crystal Gate," - IIuVir.(i. nnd danThcrn. nn 1 pnrs all ei. Wcartag the M crown " and the " rarir, it fair ; " Sinins the son.'- that wi never tire Ann wellin; tho Chora Donn'i 'r, An1 patiently, hopefalhr, Mde the tin Thai -hall Win" her at last to I fairer c 'Tis trood upon cuiUhondV Tats to Th 1 1 tftll look-, from n'l douMlnir fr Bat harter, v far. wh'-n the sand of life Are n-'.-niv nn ont. and the world? vain strife N lin-htd to an echo. ar;'in to see The traatfid expression of infancy. iranrtmothT'. chair will hi faCSBi ?oon. For the rxyp of her life slant fir past, noon : JIat yonder in Heavea sh.'"l' sin? aaiu. Joining t)t ..v.'rmfirf- glad refrain. Wearing the " crown ' and the M Erarment fair." Whi'.e we monrnluliy etand hy her vacant chair. 4 ! I LT TL E BO rß PO t KR1. Do TOO know what'l in my pottet,:' Snch a M of tr-aanre's in it ! Listen now whJV I hedin it: Snch a lot of fir,L" it hold. And an there is, yon all rc told: Every sin dafi in my pottet. And when, and where, and how 1 dot if. First of all, here's in my poltet A beanty shell I picked it np; And here's the handle of a tnp That somebody has broke at tea : The -h -ir I hole in it yon sec : Nobody knows that I have riot it, I BWp it afo here iu my pottet. And here's my b ill, too. in my pottet, An:l h--r '- mv paaarias, one, two, fre. That Ann' .Miry L'.-ive to me : To mortow-day I'll buy a spade. Whn I'm ont walking with :he maid ; I eaaft put aat here in mv potti t. But I can nse it when I've dot it. Here's somo more ?iri' in my pottet! Here's my lead, and here's my etrinir. And once I had an Iron ring, . Bat through a hole it lost one day ; And this i - what I always say A hole's the worst sin in a pottet. Bare It mended when yon've dot it. ll-(irth and Tlomf. Selected JIKsceUatm I.YDY HAKeASFPS VALENTINE. In our village of Kempton there was only one opinion of Lady Margare whether contemplated in the past or (he present, whether thought of a8 the wife or widow of Sir Geoffry Caryl, she was always spoken of as "a "perfect tady. People were not persuaded of anything more entirely than of the perfections of fofy Margaret Ilrr excellence was an article of faith among us, so perfectly aid our little world believe in her. Th:.s iciflUS lady was beautiful in face, v ry graceful in movements, gentle in manner. She was affable without imoertir.ent condescension, and respectful to ry body. The good Kempton people were very proud of her title ; "a Jdy in her own" right," thy called her j clear, f dthftd, friendly souls, and I had listened iothm in my chil 'hood with much solemn wonder in my swelling heart as to what th'so words might :ne;.n. Lady Margaret had stood much alone in the work! before her marriage. She had fa en an onlm.i ; she had brought no errand relations to look down on the hereditary der fi n of thf Keaaptoa neighbora; and Jliss Smithera, the grocer's hchtiin, liad had a larger fortune; but lAtff Margaret stoo l in no need of the recommendations of money or friends was such a perfect lady !"' Aa to myself, I worshiped Lady Marga- ' with a truly devoted heart, and mv mother gave her the purest admiration and a very grateful love. I MpooM I may say that my father, .1 UBea R yda, ha-', been the firt gentleman of h'is family. The Iio'd3 family had, i n loaw ncenatiou, from father to son, been in the place of land stewards to the Caryl property ; but the late Sir Geoffrey, WAO bid been Lady Margaret's husband, and my father, had been " only sons," m 1, a the bovs rrew into ;lose friends, it was agreed that they should not be parted. They went to Oxford together, when- mv fUher greatly distinguished himself, fTe had become a barrister, and he had married early; then, in the same year, hi lad Sir Geoffrey died Sir Geoffrey of a fall from his horse, my father in t iweajueuea of a ever caught in London. I was ten years old at that time, and Lady Margaret had been c ijy two years married. The house bo which we lived had been prepared f r my mother's reception when a bride, by Sir Geoffrey It stood within the parti wall, which was covered with ivy from the ground to the coping ; and it was backed by great cedars, whose huge cone covered branches gave out sweet odors as thgy lay straggling in great feathery lengths scroat the turf. ' The ( vrt was about half a mile off, and we eovJfl get to it by a pathway straight across the prk, passing by the spring called the " Deer Tool," which lay on the nnmy afdi of a dense thicket of evergreens; this path was only used by the servants of the Conrt, ourselves, .and two in tid servants', an 1 the privileged feet of the village poatman. My mother and 1 were also allowed to uc ''the private drive," and there my little pony carriage wheels were often heard morrily running over the well-rolled, perfectly kept gravelled road. On the dsath Whieh I have recorded, the Kempton people Ided to their everyday thoughts many speculations as to how mv mother and Ladv Martraret would he. left ; and 09 both matters they were soon mffidentlv informtd. My mother was ft in affluence and Lady Margaret had tne entire Caryll property lequeathed to her ; but if a certain Capt. Granby, of whom no one had ever heard before, but who now turned out to be lome distant cousin of üix Geoüröy, turvived her, he was to be the 1'i'ure owner of Kempton Court. Nobody cared tor Capt. Granby. Nobody knew where he was. In India, said - mebody : so they took that matter for granted. For all practical purposes, Lady .Margaret was mistress of the situation, and more magnif cent sympathy was of fer. d to her in codrcquence. In the old times there had bn puttie ('ays at Kempton C urt, such :-s The i!d King'3 birthday, by whieh Go arge the Third war- i.T'V t, when a thv waved from the porch tower, and the place had been thrown open to all who had an estab lished right to com-.). The accession of Queen Victoria had hoeu kept ud in

my time it had always been Lady Margaret's wedding-day. After Sir Geoffrey's death th re w -

much wonilerinr abÖSrt thate public days. For six years Kempton Court was home doeed to all but pertfeahur friends; r.n 1 during all that, time the wondering as to the possible ftU days of the future w;s every day renewed. Daring all this time Lruly Margiret had been the angel of our house. She had won my mother out of her desponding grief fr my lather's early death, and t-he made me love her as I caul 1 not hope by any description to make anybody understand. I quite worshiped Lady Margaret. The mos perfi et lady ! I could echo the village judgment now from my own heart, and because of mv own expo rience; and eenerally Lady Margaret was even more delighted in as a widow than she had been as a wife our perfect lady ! Lady Margaret need often to have me stay with her at Kempton Court; and rather more than tix years after her husband's death, when I wa" hir guest it b' in: February, and in fact, St. Valentine's eve, she said. M Mary : the people have been lil years without, their public days in the park. I am thinking this year of beginning them again. I wonder if it would be Kked v" I spoke positively of the pleasure it WOOld give ; and when I looked at hi r beautiful young face she could not have been mort-1 hau twenty -seven, I think I felt glad that she would no longer deprive our little world of so much loveliness of person and mind. " And you will go out again see frier da, I mean." " Yes," said she ; ; but I shall not go to London this year, I think " Then I knew that by degrees the old ways were to be returned to, and I was glad. Yet with my gladness there mingled a girlish regret, because I felt thai Lady Margaret might become something eke something Dot kno-n to me thai l. who had only known her o very well Hnce her widowhood, might lose a something, and that what I lost others would jrain. I had begun to be Jealous of the world already. She talked very merrily that evening; she spoke of her maiden life, of London, of my "coming out" fori was seventeen of people who had been beauties and heiresses; of some who had married well and others who had married ill ; of love in a cottage and of those who bad agreed that, considering the chances of this mortal life, "'tis best repenting in a c ach and six." I was amused and interested beyond measure. She spoke with a brilliant familiarity of the life of her youth. It came back to her in memory with evident pleasure, and we stayed up goesi much beyond our usual bedtime. As we stood at last on the landing of the stairs, saying good-night, she said : "Shall wo walk to the Beeches to morrow f " O, yes," I exclaimed ; for the Beeches was a wooded hillside, dotted about with huge masses of granite, at the foot of which a rapid river ran, with most picturesque windings, and there Lady Margaret had already given me two lessons in sketching, the spot to which we went being both sheltered and sunny, and so very agreeable for the time of year. To tell the truth, I dreamt of the things we had talked about, and when Lady Margaret met mc in the hall, after breakfast, in her short black large, and said, "Come, Mary, or the morning sun will be gone. lav V" And do you know it is Valentine's I colored up to my eyes, because I had said to myself over and over again. nJrnjM she will not marry again Oh, I hope, I hope!" Away we went ; the day was the brightest that ever dawned on any Valentine, I am sure ; the sun was like summer, the birds were singing, the primroses were showing in the sheltered placts, and when we got to the Beeches, there was the dry rustle of the beech mast beneath our feet, an 1 gay green patches where the leaves of the blue hyacinths had pushed their way. " O, this is exquisite C cried Lady Margaret. " See the light on those glittering rocks look how the shadow of those great boughs gets painted on them. But we have not the river )ret ; let U3 get up the bank and see how it looks from above 1 declare, it is hot." Lady Martraret wis quite right. We had walked fast, we were in a place at r nee sunny and sheltered, and it was a moment of as much enjoyment and promise as any lady-sketcher could desire. She had got beyond me now, by a rough path up the steep bank, and she St I waiting. " O, Mary, it is delicious ! So peaceful, so pretty! It seems odd to think of so much baauty going on, whether or not there be any to look at it Nature i a prodigal. Here we are quite alone, not a creature have we seen not a Valentine !" And then she laughed like a girl. Sh-; took one or two steps more, so as to command the other side of a granite rock, and then she came back quietly to me. " O, I hope he did not hear. There is a man there, sitting down, drawing in water colors; what shall we do?" " Go home," I said. " I don't know. The place is my own. I shall speak to him." Sh went up the bank onee more, keep ing me by her side. Etat as we neare l the highest point of the intervening wall of stone, the man appeared on the top. lie took off a cloth Scotch cap that he wore, and bowed to us. We were both struck by the extreme picturesquencss of his position, attitude and general appearance ; ana u was with a peculiarly sweet voice that he said : " I know I am on Lady Margaret Ca rylls grounds. But I hone I have not trespassed too far too near th house. I mean." " You are nearly a mile fr ,i my house, said Lady Margaret. The stranger again gave a inue now. i;o noi leave your sketch unfinished. The scenery here is very tine, and you will not often get so good a day at this time of the year." "Thank yon!" he said. And once more touching his hat, he turned away, as if to go back to where Lady Margaret had seen him. We, too, turned away, and I thought Lady Margaret looked disturbed. " We will come some other time" then she added, after a pause, with an odd, short laugh, as if vexed at being disappointed of our sketching hour- " when there are no Valentines about;" and I, a little chafi 1, perhaps, by her manner h i the firft tim-j in my life it vexed me said quickly : " Nay it was fay Valentine yon paw him, not I r "Child!"' I started ; f.toxl still ; took her hand, and kissed it. I wish I I Cried bad never rd,"

"So do I," she sail, "and I snid It, as Well ns ssej it first ; so the whole fault of th'S is mine kiss me, Mary. There! IfoWj no more!" And so we did not Speak of it just then my more. Iut before the day was ended we had both laughed heartily over the Valentine, the vexation and the adventure. We called the sketcher " the Valentine"; wc wondered about him a little, and finished the day by coloring up our morning walk till it glowed as a good sto ry, wheu we told it at M little tea," to mv mother. There it seemed to end. But, nerd?', end again, as weeks passed by, felt r.n Bttace mutable vexation rise in my breast, became Lady Margaret had seen " the Valentine." At last, when June was eome, there was something else to think about. Tho return of the old public days was announced. The people were to have their fill of pleasure, and once more th"y might go home tired, loyal and satisfied, if they would. The day li.-d Upon was the 20th of June, and evtryb dy saki that they should " make it a point to go." Then everybody wondered if Lady Margaret would leave oil her mourning on that day if she would realh wear colors. I w is a ?cry slave in my lOTe forLaly Margaret. I did not wish her to be gay after that fashion. 1 hoped, T ared, wondered. When the day came she Idased me lovinsly, and was dressed in rich-llow-ing, soft-shining gray, with a white bonnet, and delicate marabout feathers in it ; and the blessedness of her presence seemed to wrap me round '.ike a garment, S.ich a day it was I such lights and shadow, such warmth and gladness I such a confusion of happy Bounds! The whole park, except where the deer were en

closed, was alive with a movi ig multitude, enjoying ike clad fellow ship of those holiday hours. Suddenly Lady Margaret came up to me. "Mary, ' she sal 1 u the Valentine T I thought she looked odd and excited. I suppose I socinodjfcry stupid, for she went on with strange earnestness " Have yon heard of a man a young man, a gentleman, I mean who has been lodging with Mrs. Bond, by the river side he is 'the Valentine' he i here!" " Do you mean 'he man who came there, fishing! I heard that some youth came there n foot with his lishing-rod. lie has been ill. My mother sent him Strawberries a week o go. I have never seen him." " That talking Miss Nancy Bonnet says he has often asked about me." There was something just a little hss than perfect in Lady Margaret's manner, I thought ; and the thought troubled and vexed me. " Come with me r.ow," she said. So we walked acro-s the park together, to where people were collected under the Shade of some stately oaks. But I could think only f the beautiful morning in February, and that dreadful Valentine ior so I calle 1 the man in my heart. "How do you do, Mrs. Bond?" said Lady Margan t, walking straight up to the mistress of the little inn. Mrs. Bond courteated and congratulated herself on being there. " Not but that it was hard to come,:' she raid. " for I have a lodger, now, my lady, whose fishing is well nigh forever over. I could not leave him .t home. He vowed like a willful child that I should bring him. T had a world of difficulty to settle it." " And how was it arranged f " Why, with two noles ftnd an arm chair; and there he is ! He is one of those who always have their own way, and such don't last long." We lookeil in the direction pointed out by Mrs. Bond, and saw a figure wrapped up in cloak-, sitting in a chair in the shade, j "I heard," said Lady Margaret, "that a sick man bad been brought here ; 1 thought I would ash about him. "Thank you, my lady ; fust like you. I wish you would f peak to him. There, he looks this way you may almost sec his eyes Hash." He is prodigious handsome, run! a voice close by ; and Lady Margaret a lit tle shrunk r.dde from the touch of Miss Nancy Bennet "Prodigious handsome! My sister and I make him often an object for a walk pieaeant to have an object, said Miss Nancy. "Mrs B nd seems to take t care of him; sets him outside to steh the river, and he admires the river, and talks of your ladyship talks vastly of your ladyship, giggled Miss Nancy; and though the poo: creature ment no more, I am sure, than to do honor to Lady Margaret's perfection, I yet felt I could have strangled her for her manner of doing it. M Well, and I wish her ladyship tcoidd ah to him, if she will be 40 kind," said Mrs. Bnd, angrily. "He wants friends people as e Hi be friends ;" with a fiery 0 tab, of her eyes on Miss Nancy. "When 1 asked him the other day who I should send to if .anything happened, he said, 'The doctor or the coroner which you please ;' and if that is not enough to break the heart of any woman who has been wife and mother, I don't know what is." " What is hi3 name V" asked Lady Margaret. "That he dn' tell," said Mrs. Bond. " But he pays hi.i way, and he had got that natural to me, that if he didn't pay I could not turn him out. He ain't like other people. He's got a wonderful way with him ; why, my old man is just like his servant, and my grandchildren they lores him !" " Nevertheless," Bald Mifl Nancy, spitefully, " you will get into trouble if you let him die in your house without a doctor. " Then trouble may come, and welcome. A doctor he won't have, and not aH the doetora that cyer were made would keep him here ; lor ht I Is dying, though slow, enough to know that and I am doctor "Very mysterious!" exclaimed Mis Nancy. "Which T uevcr oVnie.1," responded Mrs. Bond. "But still I know something, 0 nth man he Is ; ill he Is ; dying he is. "I wib, my lady, you would go and pprak to him." "Good day, Mrs. Bond," said Lady Margaret, with one of her quiet, penetrating smiles which went to the heart directly, and then, with her hand within my arm, She walked up to the languid figure In the chair under the trees. He took off his hat as she came near. Mbs Nancy Bennet had certainly not overstated the amount cf his beauty He looked at Lady Margaret boldly, with a smile which was wonderful, but strangely free. Many people stood by. There was 8 iiiMthing in his face as ho looked at my kind friend, which I f It vexed that they should see, M I hope you arc not tot, for the enjoyment of tliM day," she said. ' I am too ill for eavj'jy meet off any kind," he answered, with a sweet voice, and the accent of aa educated roajj MJ nm on D v..

"I had two things to d-. Ore WAS to secure for Mrs. Bond a ht ppy day ; and and then my voice is v oak ; will you come closer to no e?" We walked to his slde,ac.dLady Margaret stooned her head.

"Then, to try to s;c wm: and a4 your charity for the few ya I hare to live. Lady Margaret kept hex hand on my arm and looked at the sick r:vn kindly. His features were as perfect as B statue's ; k;s faca might have serred as a model for a young Apollo. The wh le countenance was of that godlike char.: :er which belongs to Stich ideas co bold, sweet and free, without a touch of the coarse or rude: it was like tho assertion of a superior nature that couhl n ither be understood nor restrained. I ft it surprise 1 at the con templation of snch living beauty; and yet there was a ghastlincss when diel away, which separated the ID this I me iek man from the strong and healthy living souls that were now stan''ii-i about ns. " How can I help you f" sai I Lady Margaret. " By saying thar, when I am dying, ii you arc sent for, vou will come." " Not till then?1 she b lid, softly. " As you please," he answered ; and then again there was that free smile on Irs face which had so greatly struck me at first. It. was grandly beautiful, no doubt, but, nevertheless, it was a emd : that bvl in it more power than pleasantness. When the day was spent, and the last of the crowd were gone, I found Lady Margaret sitfing alone in the library. The door was open and the windows also. She was sitting still ond thoughtful, in the cool frei lniess of the evenin z air. "Where is 'our hea 7 :-r she asked. I said, M She walked home hours ag-. She lias .cent the pony carriage for me." " Oh," said Lady Margaret, "that will suit me exactly. Bend your servant b-.ck on foot, and then yon, Mary, can take me a drive." " I should like it very much," I answered. " But I shall not know how to get home. I am not allowed to diive by myself by the road, and I am afraid to take Robin by the deer-park: they jump out and startle him so." " Never mind ; I will send you home, or take you. Only staj7 wi'h me now, and take me a drive." It was odd to hear Ld' Margaret so positive I thought. But I was glad to do as she said, and I did it. The pony carriage came, and Lady Margaret and I drove away. When vre got to the lodge gates she sa d : " Drive to Mr.s. Bond's, my des r." u Lady Margaret !" "Ves; I must see that man again. I can't get over what what what 1 felt, Mary; and this delicious a;r cools me. Drive on, Mary." I felt vexed, surprised, eorry. To blame Lady Margaret, even to doubt Lady Margaret was a new sensation; butl drove on silently fan the direction of the " Cn .. and Salmon." " There we are!" hc cried, with C mi iderable excitement la hei a.icy. "Do Vt be unnatural, Mary. You rm"t speak," " I don't like being here," I s dd. She touched my arm and made me look at her. Her beauty was hi Ightened 80 by what she had in her mind thai she quite dazzled me. "You must neither think nor speak,1 she said. "I fed sure, that a very wonderful thine is romg to happen to to me." And then she got out of the carriage and went .straight into the house. I stayed in the carriage waiting. The river murmured away. Young men who had come for a few days' ftahing strolled about talking of the river, the weather and the weight ot the salmon. Half v.n hour passed, and then Lr:dy Margaret came back With a face, the odd excitement Oi w hich she could not conceal. " Go to your own home, now, Mary. It is too late for anything else." So I drove to our entrace gate, when Lady Margaret got out, and walke 1 straight across the park toward the Court, only say inc. " Thank you, dear ; good night." I looked uftcr her. I felt as if there was something wrorg. I did not like the unnaturally strong interest my perfect Lady Margaret had shown in this beautiful ttranger. I disliked her whole manner so much I felt it to be so unaccountable that I kept all about it a secret from my mother. Days and weeks passed. Lady Margaret had sent two medical men, at different times, to see the sick man, but no entreal ies of Mrs. Bond, nor of her husband, could make him see either of them. Mrs. Bond said that ho must die. Lady Mar garet sent all manner of dainties to tiie inn from the Court, which the sick m n appeared to relish exceedingly. This man then became the chief interest of our lives. He would sit In his r.rm chair by the riverside, refusing to apeak to any one except Lady Margaret. All eye and mouths were open to watch and report proceedinga Lady Margaret was with him daily once, twice a day; and when ho was worse for a few days, she remained and waited on him like a servant. How things grew worse until they assumed unpleasant dimensions, I need r.ot say. But Lady Margaret's perfection first grew dim, and then withered away. At last my mother cautioned mc that it was a latter on which I had better not sp and then I wept bitter tears. I )own, down, down, in popular opinion, ( went Lady Margaret. The whole country hi ard, talked, wondered and, for the no part, condemned. At last my mother spoke to her. " Oycs," she said, standing up in our morning room. "I know people dislike my having taken to sick-nursm. Ami Bnc iauguc,i a hard laugh, such as we had ncver hcarJ from herbefore. Then she stopped suddenly and wiped tier eyes, whieh were full of tears. " I cannot help it," she said. "I leaf go there. I cannot keep away. It would kill the poor creature if I did." " Indeed, indeed, you Ought, pleaded my mother. " I can't," she repeated, almost angrily ; "will you btdieve me if I say 1 avaX" Then she walked out of the room. But in another moment she came bark again . , , . another moment she came back again. e kissed my mo her, looking w.th Bad, fe? JaaYa-Sff She entreating always ttand by me," she baid. "The Royds have always .been faithful to the Court. You will always make Mary think well of me ?" Then she broke out in great excitement "But, in the name of Heaven, what have I done F Are we never to visit the sick, or comfort the afflicted ?" My mother did not speak. But T, in nn v i ss of gforUsh excitement, cried cut, 1 , Lady Margarft, that in not the question, til in dreadful, became- people say you art; In love witli that horrid man;" and then a fit off crying overcame me, and I dropped upon ray face on the sofa cushion, sobbing violently. " T-3 h as Ud II thfttv" she aek'-d, with ft

trcmbling voice and a scared face. " But do not cry, my darling. You are a good, brave girl. Thank you for tellicg me. Yet do not call tint sick man 'horrid,1 it is not true; and I cannot ccac to care for him. But, perhaps, I ought to take him away, if people say such things." She looked at my mother like one In a dream. " Give it .a.:l up, Lady Margaret. Send the man to some consumptive hospital. Give him what you please, but not your good name. You can hardly exaggerate what pcoph; say." She made no answer to this speech of my mother, only going out of the house qui tly. T5"t the next evening as T was v a king past the Deer Pool, I turned home quickly, for there, inane shade, sat Lady Margaret, with that man's hand in her's. hl i head on her shoulder, and every now and then she kissed his broad, white ionhead, till he locked up at her with a face BO bright with thankful love, that I lied away, and got back to my mother's arm", and told n r all I had seen.

Try not to think of it, Mary.' But mv idol was broken ; and the bur den of unbelief nearly broke my heart. Things grew so bad, that, even good old simple-minded Mr3 Bond spoke to her at la, and said that it was unseemly fur one in her station to r.ur-easiek man of whom the knew nothing, and whose name even Was unknown. But Lady Margaret only renin d that she should never desert the : :ck lodger, and that she would never let anv one take her place by his bedside. either by ..:aiui lmmeuiaieiy arter Mrs. tsonas oxp istulation a new tiling happened. The K anpton carriage, whieh was hired f r all occasiona by everybody, arrived at the u Crown and Salmon, and took the sick lodger to the railway station. There was Lady Margaret ; she took their places, and, unattended, they went away together. Martin, her maid, had gone to London on a previous train. A solemn ort of mourning fell on all hi irts now. Wc felt shamed in her shame. But we loved her still. Lady Margaret never wrote to any one, but Martin corresponded with the housekeeper. Mrs. Bent used to bring us these letters to read. " It is all just as it used to be," she wrote. ''She nurses him like any hired &an ; and he evidently love3 her fondly." Martin spoke of the sick man as Mr. Lisle. Then she wrote again, M I am coming home. Lady Margaret sends me back. My lady has scarcely left Mr. Lisle's room day or nigh', for a week, ne is better now, and they are going to the sea. I exP ct her attendance on him must have exc'ted some surprise, though people speak of them as being related, and I favor the idea II at, ouite unexpectedly, Capt. Granby who is the heir has arrived. Lady Margaret seems to be on good terms with him, though l Wk high words I know they have ha L He says he will tike part of the nuiaing of Mr. Lisle." B i Martin came back, and la a fortnight' ti no Lady Margaret wrote to Mrs. Bent that her sick friend was dead. She inclosed a note to Mr. Browning, the clerg man, saying she would have the funeral at Kempton, and that the body gras 1 1 be placed In the Caryl vault Nothing could exceed the anger of all Kempton at this news of the funeral that was to be. The vault was opened with ancry words; the once "perfect lady" Buffered from names to vile for repetition. The cofiln of -ood ir Geoffrey was to endure defilement from the neighborhood t one tor whom his widow had given her fair name, and stained the hitherto spotIcsa pages of the chronicles of their house. But no one could Interfere; and the and the funeral came. day The Kempton world kept aloof; but, nevertheless, on the lockout! The funeral eortegi came slowly up the read that flanked the park, to the village church. In the mourning coaches were Capt Granby, and following him, Lady Margaret. .So-, epi .pie only saw herblack veil, but others said that she was weeping in the old quiet way, as she would have wept before the fevered life ot the last thrt e months had come to her. Then came the procession up to the open gr ive, and the people who were gathered round heard the burial words, and, at one word startedone word but little exted. The coliin. with the black in-sci-on the glittering silver plate, showed with most conspicuous clearness this announcement ., " Mivia, wife of Charles Caryll Granby, died Oct. 7, aged I'V Tne news spread. The good old clergyman was appealed to. He could only show a n. to from Lady Margaret, tellincr ban that the sick person, once at Mrs. Bond's, and now dead, whom he was to bury, was not a man, but a woman ; that she bad Confided her secret to her, and that she had been taken away to die as a woman should. "She was the wife of Sir Geoffrey's N i--," wrote Lady Margaret "She had left him on the morning of their marriage, having received, on her return from church, i letter from a had believed to be dead. lover whom she Her friends had over-persuaded her, knowing to how ! irge a property Capt. Granby would sncc 1 She had wandered about for above a year In a man's disguise, and then she formed the project of getting to Kempton :i!i'i casting herself on my protection. I ! the happiness of getting her to see r husband before she died." particulars were ever given ; no . ; (';' '' Ar r V r . When Cap4 Granby spoke of Lady when I went again to Kempton Court, and into the accustomed room, called by the dearly-loved voice, welcomed by the much-prized embrace, I wept tears of joy, knowing what they were saying in the village, and echoing the words iu my heart" ruoh a perfect lady." One day Cant. Granby brought a bright young wife to the Court ; but who the first poor bride was we never knew. But every iwei ueui oi . une, miouku iuc ( fo , llt Kempton, I ,- , r Vejoicir comes to her legutedy atwet twentieth ot June, lliougu tnere are no Mrs. Bond . There ill. 1 1 vr a t.a.-.'1-itv-noiuid Bank of England note. London Society, for Ft'hrxary. V.l.. U v..v... WJ V v. Jonn Chin oi im, in California, La clear at a bargain. His Ideas of the "credit system " arc extremely safe, though rather Vague. A merchant of unbounded credit In S.ci Praneiaco recently applied to a Chine e merchant, thronen his front, to pan hs h cargo d nee on tune. The agent duly set forth the opulence, stand - ing, etc., of hh principal, to which Chinaman replied : " Ves, nun welly good maja. Mc trur'-ro. him nav me one halo cafe M. ow.er r. '!t wf me deli her r!ce- o

FACTS AM) FIGURES. Iowa has 3,498 life insurance ;;gcnls. Yelocipedes rent at Ii) cents per h ur in Boston. In Maine 8,00(1,000 acres of land rem do unoccupied. A Cincinnati genius advertises M Work not so much of an object as good w kgea,1 There are six time3 as many daily papers published in this country as in El -land. Seventeen hotels In St. Paul, Minn., have been destroyed by fire in ai many yi tra. The average monthly wage-; of! ho mile teachers, in Illinois, last year aas 4'2 10, and of females $32 80. A PaSIB shopkeeper has been fined for exhibiting goods in his window nir.riicd at a lower figure than he would sell. Smith is almost innumerable ; t:icrc nre 803 of him in Boston, 680 of Brow , ' of Jones, and the same number of 8n livan. Tni: Dominican Father Minj ard, at whose preaching ladies tore off their j rwels and put them into the plate, has become insane. A Qeabqow firm boasts that 11 ur is im

ported there from America, made inf biscuits, a.d in that shape exporte : back fr sale. An obituary of a deceased ferret in ' "Worcester, Mass., shows th-it daring its lifetime of six years it killed 1,467 rabbits, rats and squirrels. At a receut wedding in the Baptist 1 Church, in Charlottesville, Ya , the . bridal party consisted only of the bride and groom and two lady attendants. Alaska produced for market last year 225,000 seal skins, worth from $10 to each. In addition to their skins, every tf n seals are good for a barrel of oil. Tamxa swindling bogus guides at Niagara Fall;? were arrested !he other day by a Buffalo detective, who affected inno ' cence, and allowed them to cheat h'm for t several hours. A MATiiiMONi r. engagement In high life was recently broken off in New York, in consequence of the parlies having a dispute as to who should pay fr the welding cards. The passenger travel between England and France during lis reached the total of 306,330, being via Calais, 142,121; B ulogne, 109,325; Dieppe, 35,577. and Havre, 1807. The seventeen standard places of amusement in New York city empl y 2, 020 persons. The average nightly attendance is 23,300 persons, and the average nightly receipts $14,668. An individual from the rural districts dead-headed to a conoid t dde extent 1 itely in Burlington Vt., on the strength of , being " connected with the press." On Inquiry it was ascertau I that he tended a cider-mill. An old man employed to hunt rabbits on the Duke of Portland's estate, in England, was recently found dead in a r ' hole into which he had crawled, and from which he could not extricate iiimselt. He WBB drawn out by the heels, grasping a rabbit and a ferret in his hai i." A HAN was executed in Brig! -'a Y mng's dominions the other ay. He was urougin lroneu iiho tue courvyaru, where there wa a crowd of b me 1 ur hundred, and seated in a chair. He then read aloud a chapter from the New Test iment, the Irene were taken off bis 1 ids, and, at a signal from the Sheriff, he was shot dead. A Cleveland gentleman, while -. - -ing the Atlantic, sealed a bottle and I on signed it to the wares; the bottle conmined the history of some dastardly thief who had stolen t lie whisky and drank, it, and a request to the finder of the bottle to send the same to his address at Ch land. What was his surprise the oth r day, after six months had passed, to receive from Brighton, England, the identic J waif whieh had been washed ashore cutered with barnacle?. A St. Joseph, Mo., mechanic recently invested .fdO. tor the purpose of obtaining valuable prizes which he had "drawn." Of course he never received them. After cogitating on the matter, he wrote over an assumed name, representing that if he could draw a good prize he could get o hers to invest. Upon this the lottery manag ra sent him about $"() worth of silver plate, etc , the package marked "C. . D." When 1 A I notified of their arrival, he attached them, won the suit, and the lottery nconle "smell amice." A .Modern Alphabet Inventor. A few months back a paragraph in the New York Tribune sfatcd that a liter try relic had been sold in that city for the sum of $1,130 the highest price any book has fetched in that country. It was a copy of " Eliot's Indian Bible," a book that no man living can read. Eliot was a Puritan Englishman, who emigrated to New England on account of his religious opinions, and died at Roxbury, where a handsome memorial was erected to his memory by hia admirers. This br. ught to my recollection the labors of another ingenious mind, known by the name of Oeorge Ouets among the people of the United States. He was an Indian, and his name S-e quo-lah. fever a record of patient industry, untiring perseverance, and natural ingenuity deserves record, tt is this. Eliot's Bible was in atoneg in. with the usual Kornau letters, with different signs to denote the different Inflections of sounds. But See-quo lah inrented an alphabet for the nse of his U gg'i pinnated in the early Fn trine. neh and Indian wars. The uneroaees aau a white prisoner, on whose person they found a letter; to satisfy his cepturera, the prisoner had to read it for their edification. But of course the tenor of his reading differed greatly from what he pretended to read from. The "talking leaf" had ever been a mystery to these untutored minds of the prairie. They had long considered it a gift of the (Jrcat Spirit, and held it in 1 great veneration. But See -quo-lah, tin n a youth, knew better ; he matntaUu d th d it was purely man's invention, and the desire to have a written alphabet for hi3 tribe possessed him. For a long time the idea lay dormant ; the migrations of the tribe or their predatory excursions V f him no leisure. But lamed, and as ii proved, for life, the long hours of hia orced Imprisonment brought forth the old idea. His first attempt was to gather all the sounds of the Cherokee tongue ; bi I Uut rnantt wi? far from encoure'-n. lbj collected above two uunareo. ins r.e.v 1 dihVulty was to plaee a sign as equiralenH to a sound.. Like the old Egyptians, and probably like the iirtt alphabet invent. r . whoever IheV may be. he made uso of hhweglyphioa, III embodied pl4 . s of

birds, beasts, Ac, which approximated with the sound?, and served best as a repreeentation. But the mind, before it could realize such a category, would require an immense amount of trainine. He looked over the extensive list wih some dismay, and endeavored to modify It He was successful eawugh to abbreviate it to eigldy six. He was able to accompliah thiff, because in Cherokee all syl1 ibles hav? a vowel ending. An enumeration and classification of these syllables ma le, and l sign for each, would complete it. Thus there needed no distinction between fowels and consonants. A rather onwieldly affair, no doubt: but when the system was learned, easier to spell by than b; using Eliot's method. -The longest W rd of this system contains but fourteen signs or syllables, while the longest words of Eli s have often over thirty. Tt took the ancient world aires before it could entirely discard the nirtnre si

tor ine idea ot sunole letters stoic on imnercer.tibiv r.rd ic In inexplicable mystery; But this poor Indian at onc stroke discarded his picture's, and invented an alnhabet almost as commodious as those of European nations. Elia next difficulty was to make so many dissim lar to each other. Perhaps he might have seen some English printed m itt r, f-.r some of his signs greatly resemble our letters. The figure 4 is prominently used. Some signs are like Greek oi Asiatic letters, others like Slavonian. Bui they luven far different sound from the ' tyj es, if snch they were. The ii ;n S ounds like tku, M like tu, and the n t are equally different But most of them;, re pure inventions. All are used over again in different postures, so to sp ak-distorted, inverted or abbreviated. li s pen was a naOj he wrote on bark. Eventually (about 1928) he obtained a pen ipet from one of those frontier '.r :'(r-. but the pen was carefully prcserved as a guide to manufacture others by. His ink he made himself from barks. His first pupil was his daughter. But, like Rog r Bacon, Gutenberg, Galileo, ard others, his neighbors sus.i of practising the black art. Doubtless he seldom left h's hut; his Bain 1 ! eing in : is work, his time would betak n np with it. His tribe shunned him; but )r iaoffensire, as well as his pitiable condil n, preserved him from any dire consequent .-s. He was I 1 1 that they would sec the fruits f : ::- tbonbefore they judged too harshly. e following year he brought his invent! ' .arc the sachems of ha trit". can ;- daughter to write from hisdictati a in .:i adjoining apartment, and vie - i tribe were astonished ; and after a H'llc wavering, and his assursnceof q In ; l i rnatural pr.wcr, they bin to instruct someot the youths of the tribe. After several months' interval, the youths were brought forward, ana ami l great popular excitement, were I I exs mined iu as many ingenious w:iys aa t1 " cunning Indians could suggest ; but the youths proved themselves masters of the new art. Hia di ry led to the printing of the . v. T -t 1 n nt in the Ch r kec language ; in 1835, the I ait d States cast a fount of type fr hi invention, and even printed a ne an -1 per fr m if The Pikante ) The capital differ from the auaaH letters only in being a little larger. The missionaries bron phi : use the Arabic numerals although See p.io-lah had invented numerals to correspond. He af erwards eznresaed his reeret that his invention should have been promoted wmm -ufMiii-'ii . ill ll J W AJkt; L'UV ä to undermine the principles of his r iigion. He never became a Ch Indian Christian. Wh a ni tribe were obliged to move out of Georg ;, he accompanied them to their oew home in Ark-msa. AVc next hear airn in Northern Mexico, and then at 8 m Franc! tc v. here he dk d at the age of seventy-eight, In August, IQfTJ. CliiassaTM Jo ( mal. A Caution SJ Boys. TlJOSR ardent iuveniles who attend the circus, admire the gaily-dressed youngsters Who ri le the h) rses and kap the hurdles, a; d wish tii y c old go and do likewise, would he apt to lose their desire if they knew of the unfortunate condition of the youthful acrobats, The New York Clipr, under the head of " Brutality to Humanity," publishes a long article revealing some off the secrets of shows and amusements, widen densaada a thorough and searching investigation. According to the writer ?'.: re i re but very few ont of the large number of professional gymnasts wh I ive young bora apprenticed to them who do not unmercifully, habitually and illegally chastise them immoderately, ana submit them to countless dagradatiosai and indignities which none, save a hardened brute, would bestow on a dumb animal. T'.ie helpless sufferers are generally children taken from the pnblic charitable faallfh unions, or who have been enticed away from home, and are consequently without any natural pr itector to whom they can appeal for safety. They are, therefore, at the mercy of heartless ruffians who amuse themfl v - by kicking, striking and otherwise ill treating their "ro ." The moral of which la that "all that glitters is Dot gold," and that small boys will do well not to run away from home and join a circus troupe. BuPFOan, what has never actually occurred, we believe, but, what it is very easy to conceive occurring, wealth to the ant of, aay, 6,000,000 descending to a young man trained to busiuess, inclined for bu iuess, and competent to manage neaa Be c al . if lie liked to occupy hi- whole time and tax his whole energies in accumulation, employ his capital throughout Europe as the bank docs in England, at an average, say, of about 15 per cent!, or, if a very able man, as apt at A average, it an even'higher figure.Give him, however, only 10 per cent, as a fair, steady rate of gain at SO and at 42 he would have, if be spent his compound intercut on his own livinc, E 12 ,000,000 ; at r0, 24,0000,000, at 00, 48,000,000, and at 70, L'üt.öO' i.OoO. It may be said even 10 per cent, is too much, but the fact is that the whole amount may be lent to the Government and great traders at that rate with security quite good enough for one man's ! audi r a lyatem of nearly complete fuMUraact igainst everything but a geoeI ral cataclysm. London Sfvctator. Vmt.i v.vr vno IMtvcTu r. A parsM'Ti of too fn-o a lifo, W:i 't rtMiwn"1 Tor nohlc prciitnj. Ar.U miiiiy grieved to ec och etrifc BotwctMiLt living am hl tea hm?. ilia '1-rlr flt !l-t n Vlli '.Tf My rrlaild,' If fd. " 0w fimi'le fact S.ir .mi n. r t can WA thin-' elo ; Ina i cu preaca aae roe can practice. A nno an once had but four weights, a Ith which he weighed any quantity from one to forty pounds. They consisted of 1 , i 3, 0. 27 pound weights