Rensselaer Republican, Volume 22, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 September 1889 — TOO LATE. [ARTICLE]

TOO LATE.

A Story of St. Valentine’s Day. CHAPTER Y (Continued). “Next time” was not likely to come round now, for on the following morning his regiment received orders to embark for India on the 15th, and it was now the 12th—the 12th of February. A disturbance was imminent in the Northern Provinces, and a strong reenforcement was ordered out. There was no time for adieux to friends—hardly time for the necessary preparations for his departure. Still, in all the bustle, hurry, and excitement, Lyon Leslie was cognizant of a weight at his heart, not caused—he knew that—by any thought of parting from relatives or friends; apart from this weight, he rejoiced at the prospect of active service; but he did wish, - very earnestly wish, the night before his departure to embark, that he could catch but one glimpse of Nell Thanet’s sweet noble face, could look but once into her grand true eyes, and be forgiven. There was no sophistry present in his heart at that crucial moment, a moment when all that was true in him was struggling for the victory. Not a thought did he cast on the Baron’s story; it might be strange —even inexplicable; but then—in that hour, he bowed to the supremacy of love and love’s supreme trust. It was, though, but as a dream in the night, and in the morning light it vanished, and he was himself again. His good angel had fled with the cold dawn—his one golden chance had gone. The post brought him a host of farewell letters and valentines, for Lyon Leslie had many fair admirers. One registered parcel he opened carefully. It contained the gold locket and chain Nell Thanet had received on that happy Christmas morning. The chain was broken. He opened the locket, jttafLin it lay a soft curl of goldenbrown. On the top lay a slip of paperwith these words, “Only a promise,” With set mouth he pressed the spring of the inner case, and saw, what he had not expected, a smaller and darker lock, confined with goldren thread. With an imprecation, he thrust the trinket back into its case, and threw it into a box, into which he was putting some articles he had decided to leave behind him. The box was consigned to the care of a married sister in London. In the afternoon he stopped at his club, on his way to hjs quarters, which he was to leave later to catch the mail-train for Portsmouth, -at which place Ihe troop-sliip lay. There he gave some final orders respecting his letters, and then, calling for some refreshment, sad down and read the memoranda in his pocket-book. He was preoccupied, and so did not note the company present. In a few minutes his attention was aroused by the sound of voices in dispute. He was seated at a table in a window, in a conspicuous position. The persons wrangling wore standing up, near the upper fire-place. He thought he recognized one, if not more of the voices, rose from his seat, and stood up under a chandelior in full relief. There was a gathering commotion in the room. “What is it, Barnes?” he asked of liis friend, with whom he had lunched the previous day. “Oh, it’s that confounded ass, the Baron, as he calls himself! He has been airing his gage tl'armour. again, and some relativo of the girl has calleJ him over the coals. Thank goodness' he’s not my guest to-day !” “Who is it?” asked Lyon eagerly. “A Captain Kennett, I beleive. Jones knows him, and says he’s not a man to bo trilled with. If the Baron is game it'll end in a confounded row.” But the Baron was not game. From splutter and bluster he had descended to expostulation, and now his tono sounded abject. Andrew stood over against him, flourishing excitedly a small box in one hand, and in tho other a very suggestive cape. ••Eat your words, you scoundrel,” he cried, “or I’ll give you tho soundest . thrashing yoplye had yeti What is it your feaying—that you didn't know I was here, or you’d not have touched on family matters? 1 You eon-

founded rascal!”—and dp>wn came the cane on the deprecatory rßaronW shoulders. Before it could.be wrested from hi* hand, Andrew Kennett had been as good as his word, and for many a day the illustrious foreigner, as a correspondent; in a sporting weekly tef&at the Baron, would carry a stinging reminder on his back of an English gentleman’s abhorrence of a slanderous lie. When the cane was rescued at last, the Barpn had struggled free from Andrew’s fierce grasp, and now stood, foaming with rage and livid with fear. “Ther* is my card,” he cried, throwing it at the castigator’s feet. “Gentlemen in my country fight with swords and pistols, not with brutal sticks. I challenge you at Boulogne.” “Gentlemen,” cr’ed Andrew, now cool and contemptuous, recovering his cane with a sudden movement—“gentlemen suit their weapons to their foes;” and, snapping the instrument of punishment in two, he flung the pieces in his craven adversary’s face. “And, take my advice, my man. When you try the broken English dodge again, be more careful of your cockney.” Like vernim at bay, the Baron showed his teeth as he made a futile grasp at the small box containing the link of his unlucky boast, which Andrew was about to place in his pocket. “You tees,” he screamed. “Dat is mine!” A well-directed blow from Andrew’s nervous fist, and then the Baron sprawled on his back. There was a lull, as of surprise and bewilderment. The club was not used to such episodes; it was evidently at fault what to do. The Baron struggled to his feet unassisted; not a hand was stretched to help him. An intuitive feeling prevailed that the “illustrious foreigner” had somehow only met with bis deserts. More than one member with whom he had lately been associated at Tattersallis and Newmarket was doubtful of him, and, but that he had hitherto met all his engagements honorably, would have given him a wide birth. Whether he were a Baron or not they did nbt care to inquire; foreign titles were easy of purchase; and, if he were not to the manner born, in either country or status, what did it matter to their purpose—reciprocity in the game of chance and finesse, ? He badeome accredited by one or two well-known names in foreign sporting circles, had visited at the Duke of Nobble’s and Lord Scratcher’s; but then these eminent patrons of the turf were not nice to a fault in their social patronage. However, all in all, the man had been lacquered by society, and they had not been compromised by his acquaintance—hitherto.

As the Baron regained his feet, Andrew, pushing aside the members who would have interfered, to his adversary, and, in a voice audible only to the ears for which it was intended, said—- ‘ ‘Another word, and I place the matter in the hands of the police; they’ll soon find out how you came by this”— and he touched the pocket containing the cause of the disturbance—“and make you-produce your baptismal certificate too. ” “I will ’ave nothing more to say to you,” cried tho Baron, quickly striding towards the door. “I will send a friend in de morning;” and, with an alacrity that called forth a hearty laugh from the excited assemblage, he disappeared. ' “Gentlemen,” said Andrew, when quiet was restored, “I feel I owe you some explanation, and myself too. The lady’s name in question is that of my cousin, and the Baron’s statements a tissue of lies. I have been a member of this clubToTßome~year¥ nowTTficTT think it is pretty well known that I am incapable of making unfounded statements.” A murmur of expressed assent. “If however the Baron can prove that he is who and what he represents himself to be, or even obtain the services of a gentleman, I shall he ready to give him the satisfaction of a gentleman.” With these few words, Andrew departed, with the undisguised sympathy and approval of every member of the club present. As ho passed out ho came face to face with Lyon Leslie. They had had slight acquaintanceship with each other, and were connected by the ties of blood; but, as if by a mutual and aggressive monition they looked each other defiantly in the face, and passed without a sign of recognition. But, while the one felt that he could have torn a certain tiny link and the heart near which it lay from it’s possessor’s breast, and the other that he fain would have pieced together the avenging cane and laid it with a will on Mb relative’s stalwart shoulders, both knew that their rage was futile, and that it’s expression could only be compromising, rot only to their own names, but to that of the girl they both loved so differently in degree. While Andrew Kennett felt as ono might feel who had rescued a human life in pdHl.inately satisfied and grateful, for the opportunity, Lyon Leslie experienced an irritating sensation of relative Bmallness to his cousin, and an exasperating conviction that at the bar of honor he Would be awarded as little quarter as the Baron; and once more he assigned country quarters to a very far country indeed. The Baron did send a fire-eating challenge by the hands of the Honorable Handycap Weltcher; but, Captain Kennett taking exception to that personage pn the grounds that he did not fulfill the requirements he had stipulated for in the person of a second, namely those of a gentleman, he having been ejected from one wellknown club and black-balled at two others for certain equivocal practices in the ring, nothing came of it; and ♦he Baron, protesting that he-had been

unfairly treated because he was a foreigner and his opponent one. big bully and coward, withdrew into privacy for the nonce. - And on Valentine’s day, at its close, Nell Thanet received a surprise, mysterious, and not altogether agreeable. The last post of the day, brought her a small registered parcel containing the missing link of the chain, which with its magnificent locket, was now ignominioußly boxed up with sundry debris of possessions left behind by its double-minded donor, Lyon Leslie. It was vain to torture her mind; she could as little account for its appearance now as for its disappearance those few weeks back. The papers had apprised her of the imminent departure of her recreant lover, and she did not know, nor did she care to ask, in what manner a communication could reach him before the troopship should sail; so, not perhaps altogether loath, she kept the fragile token of a broken faith, stored it away in a place by itself, said nothing about it to Randall, and straightway pursued her task of trying to forget.

CHAPTER VI. Seven years after the events detailed, No. 2, in Sun street, Mayfair, a perfect little bijou of a house, opened its doors to new tenants. The brassplate on the door announced the joint names of Randall Thanet, M. D., and Doctor Helen Thanet. It soon became known that the new doctor had associated with him, as coadjutor, when practicable, his sister now that anomalous thing, a female physician. Rumor spoke highly of the young lady's talents; she had come out first in each examination she had gone through, and, though put to the question separate from the male students, it was said that she had shown far higher capabilities than any one man of her year, and had astonished, if not put to shame, the examiners themselves. She had qualified for a degree with the greatest apparent ease, and the separate papers she had submitted on technical subjects, particularized operations, and on abstract and practical diagnoses, were held to be worthy of advanced medical scientists, and models of elegance, clearness and terseness.

An eminent authority was credited with the observation that it was well that opinion was emancipating the weaker sex, as it had shown itself capable of producing a Helen Thanet. It had been a brave spirit that had borne the burden of those seven crucial years; but their tale was written on the pale young face and in the great mournful eyes. Not that Nell looked old before her time—only grave and wise beyond her years. It was noticed too, that, though she often smiled, she never laughed. To her, the years had passed rapidly, if uneventfully. Only the Christmas tides she and her brother had spent at their home in Thorpe; in summer vacations they had rambled together over unfrequented tracts abroad, through wilds in Norseland, mountain clefts in Switzerland, and pleasant by-ways in southern plains. Many a bright page of adventure and poetic description were the outcome of these desultory rambles, contributed by Randall’s facile and graceful pen to the magazines of the day.

Both in summer and in winter Nell wore serge, the same always in color, hut differing in quality. A narrow linen collar encircled her throat, round which a jacket bodice fastened closely; the skirt was always short and plain, save for some rows of braid. Her hair was kept in a close-crop, turning up slightly at the end in incipient curl. Her hands were ‘always full, but never of needlework, or especially of feminine work of any kind; but she was seldom without either her work or her sketch-book, or a work on some interesting topic of the day. Graver studies she never approached in her holidays. This summer their ramble had been short; and now—the latter end of August, just when the country was at its lovliest—they returned to murmurous dreary London, and entered on their new habitation. Small as the house was, it was so arranged that the brother and sister had their separate consulting rooms, Nell’s, at vacant hours, doing duty as dining room. Before the year was out, they had each an increasing list of patients, and it became necessary to set up a carriage. In a short time one was found to be insufficient; and so a miniature brougham was added to the establishment for Nell’s especial use. But Nell’s list increased more quickly than Randall’s, and sometimes, which Nell never did, he lost a patient —once, when he had left by accident a sonnet instead of a prescription, when the patient, being an elderly spinster, and the sonnet, to Autumn leaves, was not to be mollified, and once for adducing the theory to a gouty stockbroker that, abstract studies were more elevating to moral nature than practical occupations. “The fellow’s a fool!” roared irate City mao to his wifo, not altogether unjustifiably from a self-interest point of view. “Send him a cheque and dismiss him”—which was done. It was hearing Christmas, which they were pledged to spend at Nettlethorpe HalL Their holiday of necessity would be short—just three days. It would be their first visit to the old place. since their memorable one of seven winters back. The girls were no longer in maidenhood—all had married. Janet had met her fate in an austere curate, now inducted into country living within range of the Hall; but Edward Wylen was not austere to Janet, and her life was full. Andrew, who had been in Canada with his regiment, was expected on Christmas Eve. Nell was curious to see him again. He was now Sir Andrew Kennett, and though not much better off in the way of earthly possessions, had won some distinction in

Africa, and was a major and aC. B. St* did not know what had become of Lyon Leslie. He too had distinguished himself in India; but, when she had last looked for his name in the army it was no longer there, and there was no one she knew whom she could ask for particulars of his career. He was not dead, of that she was sure; but he was dead to her; her youth was buried with him. T When the servants had gone the family drew around the great Yule fire in the dining-room, They had much to ask each other, and much to telL “What became of Stubbs?” asked Randall of Squire Nettlethorpe, referring to the stud groom who had held rule in the stables when he was last at the Hall. “He left you, did Be not, after that affair about Nettle?” “Yes. I could bring nothing against him. The horse, as you know, was matchless, and won all before him at everything he was entered for, the same year he lost the Derby; but I felt, and still' feel, Stubbs played me false. ”

“Poor Stubbs!” said Janet. “He is very ill, I believe. He has been trainer to the Dpke ever since; and Ed-ward”—-naming her husband—“has been attending him. He received the sacrament yesterday.” “Yes,” added Mr. WyMen; “and he has begged me to ask ‘Miss Nell,’ as he still calls your fair cousin”—addressing that young lady—“to go and see him. He has some notion that you can cure him, I fancy—at least he said he had head that you were going to be made the Queen’s physician.” They all laughed; and Nell said»,she would go the next morning after church. * ‘That man who called himself the Baron von Melkenburg,” said Nell, after a short reverie, “won a large sum at that Derby, did he not?” “Was Stubbs flush of cash afterwards?”, asked Randall. ‘‘l don’t know—you never do know these things—it is a network of villainy. After that year, I withdrew from the turf and sold all my breeding stock. But I have Nettle still. I didn’t much care; I never could have bred another Nettle. ”

L Then the door was thrown open, and Andrew appeared. He was covered with snowflakes, and brought in with him a wintry atmosphere. After the hearty greetings had a little subsided, greetings in which he gained a kiss all round, he turned to look at Nell, who, unembarrassed, had given him as hearty a welcome as any* “Why, Nell,” he said, catching her hands and holding her back from £im, “I expected to see you with velvet scull-cap and spectacles! I’ve had ague and a touch of fever; but f wouldn’t see a doctor; I thought you’d like to practice on me, and here you are in silk and satin. Why, they told me you could cut off a limb as easily as you could sew on a button. You don’t inspire me with confidence, I must say.” “I never operate on cheek,” she retorted, snatching free her hand and tapping him pretty smartly on the feature specified. “Have you a cure for love?” he Asks in a whisper. “I never meddle with chronic disease,” shesaid. “I don’t believe you’d understand it,” he returned; “there are some diseases one must have to understand.” ‘.Then, physician, cure thyself,” she laughed. “Have you followed that advice?” he asked. She winced, and turned from him, with a pained look in her eyes. He saw he had touched on tender ground, and repented. For the rest of the night Nell was distraite; he had touched a jarring chord, and the fine instrument was out of tune. But he could scarcely keep his eyes off her. Andrew Kennett felt, with a kind of hopeless pain, that she was farther from him than ever. Like a star, she had risen above his horizon, and her fair shining was not for him. When he had last seen her she was dressed in a faint shade of gold—he remembered now it became her bright young beauty; to-night she wore dead-gold, with crimson roses in her breast, and no ornaments on her Bhapely head, from which the rich wavy tresses had disappeared, leaving only a thick short growth indicating slight curls at the ends. It was carelessly parted over tho Tow massive brow, which it covered like a shadow. There was power in the whole contour of the head and face, in every line of the graceful body; but to Andrew Kennett she was simply his beautiful and well-loved coußin, the one woman in all the world who held his big heart in bondage, xrot the famous womandoctor of examination triumphs and honorable awards, of acknowledged skill in difficulty surgery, and keen insight in intricate diagnosis; this was what she was to the world—only all the world to him. Christmas morning dawned on a white world. All the night the snow had fallen heavily* but the wind was keen north, and a severe frost had set in. In stout snow-boots; Nell took the road after morning serviob to pay her promised visit to the sick groom. “Why doesn’t Randall go?” Andrew asked his sister Janet. “I suppose he's a better doctor. ” “Then you suppose wrong. Why, Andrew, Neil's the most rising physician of the day, and poor Randall, as he says himself, is only an indifferent practitioner. He told me that, but for Nell, he’d have no practice at all. He tells her all hi* difficult cases and she advises him what to do. She has a large practice of her own. "It’s not true, though, is it, that she practises surgery?” “No, unless in sudden cases, where other help is not forthcoming; and these are rare, of course. She passed in surgery, though, and came out of the examinations higher than any man

of her year. It was well to know everything that could be taught, she said; but this special knowledge she keeps as reserve power. A more pitiful woman never lived; but I have been told that her nerve is like iron; and her hand as firm as it is skilful. I don’t think there’s such anotherwoman in the wide world, Andrew; and to think that such a man as Lyon Leslie ” She stopped, as if betrayed into an indiscretion, “Janet, do you think she’d ever forget him enough to take me?” ‘■To like—to love you, you mean?” “I mean what I say, neither more nor less—to take me.” “Andrew, you really would never marry a woman who didn’t love you—really love you ?” “I tell you what, Janet; I’d rather have Nell’s half-heart than any other woman's whole. She’d learn to love me; she couldn’t help it, for I should love her so.” “When a woman’s heart is full of one man, it has no vacant corner for another. Nell Thanet will never marry.” “Well, I shall put her to the test; but not yet.” “Andrew, do you remember how angry you were when Lucy married John Drew? You said, she did him a cruel injury because she did not love him. ” “No; but because she loved some one else.” “And are not the cases parallel?” “Not at all. If Nell marries me, she will give me perhaps not a very warm heart at first; but there will be nobody else there. She is true and pure as Heaven itself. Lucy married for money and she has got her reward.” “And a cool liking will content you! Oh, Andrew, how infinitely below women men are! No woman who loved as you love would be content with sueh a mockery—it would kill her. lam not speaking of women like Lucy—she is shallow by nature—but of women like Nell—and—and men like yourself.” Andrew made no reply. (to be continued. )

Learning to be a Wet Nurse. A well known actress picked up a baby in her travels, and compassion moving her to adopt the waif, she advertised for a wet nurse. She says: “I believe every mother deserted her own child and came to apply. ‘You’ll kill that child if the wet nurse’s milk is too old, 1 said one. ‘lf that w t oman’s milk is too young, there won’t be any nourishment in it, and your baby will fail,’ said another. ‘How can I tell?’ I moaned. ‘Why get a doctor to get a nurse.’ “I went and enlisted the services of a human lactometer, and the good work went on. The doctor visited the intelligence offices for wet nurses and related his experience. He questioned and examined sjjfceral applicants, and finally came to a pretty German, sitting quietly by.” “How old is your milk?” asked he. “ ‘I haven’t got any, ’ said the girL “ ‘How old is your baby?’ returned the doctor, thinking that Gretchen did not understand. “ *I haven’t got any baby,* 1 the girl replied —1 “ ‘Good Lord! what are you here for?’ cried the doctor. ‘lf you haven’t got any baby, or got any milk, what are you doing here among the wet nurses?’ “ ‘I thought I might learn,’ said she meekly. : ~. ----- “So she has gone away to ‘learn.’ ” - Altogether too Much So. She had married a handsome man. She was warned against him. All her young lady friends told her he was a flirt and gave her full account of what he had said to them, and how they could have had him if they had wanted, but they would not think of confiding their happiness to such a flirt. She was perverse and they were wedded. A few months elapsed and she came to visit one of her prophet friends one day. “Are you happy?” the friend asked. “No, I’m not.” “Well, dear, I’m sure I warned you; but I do hope you won’t get a divorce.” “Well, I don’t know. If this goes on ” “Now don’t be foolish. Men are always a little inconsistent, you know, and the best husband will go off and leave his wife occasionally and not explain—” “Explain! Go off and leave his wife! I wish he would. He’s so devoted that he won’t go out of my sight long enough for me to burn my old love letters.” A Remarkable Dream. A woman living in the eastern part of Detroit lost a fur collar last February, and though a thorough search was made for the missing article it was never found. Last week her husband dreamed that it was secreted under a stump in a lot near his barn. The next night the dream occurred again, but the husband did not mention it to his family. The third time the dream was repeated, and at last, actuated more by curiosity than by faith, the man visited the field and found the stump. Brushing away 6ome leaves he discovered a hole, and, placing his hand in it, to his surprise it came in contact with a furry substance, which he proceeded to pul) out. Then he home. The skunk escaped. A Very Mean Man. Mr. S.—“ Toddler is a mighty mean man, that’s what Toddler is!” w Mrs, S.—“ Why, what has he ever done to you?” Mr. S.—“ Bet me fifty dollars this afternoon that I ( couldn’t hit a barn door with a revolver at five paces. Taunted me into betting him, got me to put up the money, measured off the five paces in the presence of a lot of witnesses, gave me a revolver loaded and then setthe door up edgewisel”

=== -j LIVELY TURNS OP THOUGHT. Russia has appropriated 6,000,000 rubles additional to complete the Transcaspian railroad. Suicide amo ng German officers increases shockingly. During May twenty-three shot themselves, and the number for June was larger stilL A rustic bridge just completed in Houston county, Georgia, contains fifty-seven different kinds of wool and vines, and all were grown in the county. Bathers at fashionable resorts are seen wearing bonnets trimmed with lace~*jd : -- fipwgrs, a freak of fashion that is both incongruous and ridiculous. Lieutenant Assess recently rode from Lubny, in southern Russia, to Paris—l,63o miles—in thirty days, riding two horses alternately, one English, the other Russian. According to a story from Ohio a marked sparrow, liberated at Londonville in July, was shot and killed in Huron, D. T., eleven days after, and the question arises bow did the bird get so far off? In Bnrmah it is believed that, the ruby ripens like fruit The natives say that a ruby in its crude state is colorless, and as it grows older turns yellow, then green, then blue, and lastly a brilliant red. A lot of old letters having upon them stamps issued by the postmaster at St Louis in 1845 were recently found at Galena, IIL The denominations were 10 and 30 cents, both of which are extremely rare, A woman’s proper figure on the modern plan Is said by the English authorities to be of 23 inches about the waist and 36 inches about the bust There is a Mrs. McDonald in England, though, who has a waist of IS and a bust of 33. Recent Australian papers announce the finding of a nugget weighing 336 ounces and valued at £1,360. It was found near Wedderburn, Victoria, by a young man named Costa Clovich, who had only recently arrived in the colony. At Atlanta, a few days ago, while Miss Mamie Nelson was dressing a large fat bin; she found a needle sticking through the gizzard, the point penetrating the heart Tiie needle was black and looked as if it was working its way out The fowl was perfectly healthy. In China the inhabitants are counted every ten years in a curious manner. The oldest master of every ten houses has to count the families and has to make a list, which is sent to the imperial tax house. Last year the whole number amounted to 879,383,500 inhabitants.

An Arizona pat>er says that at Proctor’s well, Santa Rosa, the shells of seventeenyear locusts were brought up from a depth of 763 feet, to which depth the piping extends. It says: “There was quite a quantity of them; the entire shell was perfect, also the limbs and hairy covering of the back.” A letter from Calcutta reports that a herd of 100 wild elephants has been captured in Mysore. Also that there were 6,000 deaths by snake bites in the northwest provinces last year. In Madras 10,000 cattle were killed by wild animals and 1,642 persons lost their lives by snakes and wild beasts. : . A rare bird was shot at Dundee, Ind., by Austin Doila, a farmer. The bird is snow white and stands seven feet high. remarkable fact that it weighs less than four pounds has excited no little interest For want of the proper name the people have appropriately dubbed it the “phantom heron.” In Nevada electricity runs the very-deep mines and has increased production 25 per cent The men who work at 3,100 feet deep live about two years, notwithstanding the fact they work only about two hours per day. They get more pay than eighthour men. They work fifteen minutes and rest forty-five.

The state board of horticulture of California has imported Australia lady bugs to fight the cottony scale which is now doing so much damage in the orange gardens of that state. The scale is the bug’s chief article of diet, and this method of saving the orange trees has succeeded where all others have failed. A very desirable corner of the earth is the Puyallop reservation, which the Puyallup Indians are ready to hand over to purchasers, in whole or in part Some of the finest bop growing land in the country is on this reservation. Washington Territory is famous for its hops—which are quite as good as those of Kent A swarm of butterflies, so thick as to almost sbscure the rays of the sun, passed through Mott CaL, recently. There were myriads of them, and many of them would light on moist spots in the streets, and as they straightened up their wings they looked like miniature pyramids. They were all uniform as to size, color and shape. The battle against the desecration of the Sabbath continues to rage furiously in England. The Sabbath observance societies have attacked the cheap excursion system of the Brighton railway, which allows the. poorer classes to spend Sunday at the seaside. They have even got a large number of the shareholders of the road to sign a petition against the system. The attorney general of Manitoba announces that as a “government measure” be will at the next session of Ihe legislators move the abolition of the jury system in civil casses in tbat province. The members of the bar are strongly in favor of this step, as many wrongs are perpetrated through sentimental verdicts by men who know nothing about the bearing of cases. Books were scarce in puritan days, and perhaps that is the reason the writers made the most of the titles, using such choice ones as "A Reaping Hook Well Tempered for the Stubborn Ears of the Coming Crop; or. Biscuits Baked in the Oven of Charity. Carefully Conserved for the Chickens of the Church, the Sparrows of the Spirit, and the Sweet Swallows of Salvation;” “A Pair of Bellows to Blow Off the Dust Cast Upon John Fry,” Edward Danks, a well-known farmer of Muhlenbnrg county, Kentucky, recently killed the largest rattlesnake seen in Southern Kentucky for a long time. He warn crossing a field and heard a slight hissing sound in a bush. He saw a rattlesnake coiled up, and picking up a stoat stick killed the serpent with a single blow. The snake was six feet long and had seven rattles and three buttons and was eleven inches in circumference. While Mrs. Charles Rindesbacker, of Stockton, 111., was visiting friends in Mankato, Minn., she was sitting talking with a friend one evening when she was startled to see her sister’s face at the window. She made a sadden ontcry, and her companion also saw and recognized the apparition. The next morning she received a telegram from Stockton stating that her sister had died at the very hoar and minute that she bad seen the face at the window.