Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 March 1891 — Page 6

THE MASTER OF THE MINE.

By Robert Buchanan.

CHAPTER XXVll— Continued. •»I mean—about yourself. 1 ’ How she trembled! I could feel the •udden leaping of her heart as I proceeded. 4-. r.~: .. . . <•1 hare had my awn thoughts al 1 along, but I have kept them to myself. You know what I said to you long ago about George Redruth? Was 1 right or wrong?” “Do not ask me now.” she sobbed. “Some day soon too. you shall know everything—but not now! not tonight!’' I saw her agony, and forebore to question her further. But we did not go in at once. Lingering at the gate) we talked of old times, of her father, of many things near to our hearts, but no more of the one thing that was nearest to mine. All my anger against her, all indignation at the trouble she had wrought, died away in tender brotherly sympathy and affection. She was my little cousin again, my confidante and friend. The peace of the still night fell upon us, touching our spirits with a beautiful consecration. Never shall I forget that gentle time of parting. ••Whatever happens,” I said, as we turned to go in, ‘‘remember that I am your loving brother.” “Dear, aear, Hugh!” she answered. “I have not loved you half enough. Ah, if I had trusted you at first! Bat maybe it is not too late, even now. God help me and I will tiy to make amends!” -7— —~ CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CHAMPION OF GWENDOVEY. Soon after daybreak the next morn' ing I took the road. All I carried was my staff and a small knapsack on my back; my other worldy possessions had gone on. days'before, by carrier. My aunt and Annie watched me from the door; my uncle walked with me through the village, and a short distance up the highway. He was in his working clothes ready for his day’s work in the mine. Scarcely a word was spoken between us till I reached the point whence I meant to strike off across the moor. Here l paused, and held out my hand; he griped it with both of his, and looked into my lace. He was never one of the crying sort, but I saw now that biß eyes were dim. ~ “—~ '“H gh, my lad, I knaw you’m nawt , going far away, but suramat tells me as it may be a lang while afore we meet again. I ha’ever loved *ee like my awn soc.Qlf aught happens to me.you'il be a son to the awld woman stil?” “Ay. that 1 will!” “And Annie, poor lass—you’ll be a broth 1 ' r to poor Annie?” ••Be sure of that.” I answered. “But keep a good heart. We shall ail be together soon." t He garod at me sorrowfully, with eyes in which there was no earthly hope. • Maybe lad, maybe; but lookee.l be an awld man now, a’most done wi’ life. There be surnmat here i’ my heart, gnawing like, and I feel like that chap 1’ the Bible as were ate up by worms. But I mun wait and bear, wait and bear; only promise me again, lad, to look arter the old woman and our little lass.” I promised with all my heart He still gripped my had,and seemed about to say Wore, but with a moan, he b.essed me and burned away. Greatly moved and troubled, I left him, and walked away across the open moor. The day was bright and still; one of those calm days early in the year, when the chili of winter is still about the dark bones of the earth, but when —there are quickening ~ir~The~ -*tr, and mesme-icadmonitions of a vernal resurrection. The dew sparkled upon the heath, and strung its silver threads upon the bare branches of gorse and broom. A lark was rising from the ground and singing heavenward. as if it were spring indeed. Following & thin sheep track, I was soon out upon the wi.d moor. Turn - ing at last, I saw St. Gurlott’s reddening in the sun’s rays, while away beyond glimmered the sparkling expanse of the sea. My heart swelled within me with love for the dear old place. I might have been a pilgrim to the Antipodes. instead of a man merely jour., eeying to the next county. But in this world of ours distance is measured by sympathy, not by mileage; and never having been much of & wanderer I was inexperienced enough to undergo the pangs of exilo—though the place of my banishment was to be only the adjoining parish. With a sigh of farewell to St, Gurlott’s I turned and faced the track again. Around me on every side the moor stretchod like a sea, flat for the most part, but here and there rising to rocky knolls or descending into green hollows where the sward was damp and spongy under foot. From time to time I passed a lonely cutting turf or gathering furze for fuel, with whom I would exchange greetings and stand talking for a few minutes before wandering on. Bui for 'the most part the place was solitary, haunted only by stray sheep and wild cattle. Hawks and ravens were numerous, for it was their happy hunting ground. Trouble had made me a Uttle superstitious, * and I eyed these birds, especially the black croaking fellows and their kindred vagabonds the hooded crows, with little favor.

As 1 went on the prospect grew wilder. Tall blocks and tors of granite were scattered everywhere. , lixe the fragments of some submerged world: and, indeed, I knew well, that the ground whereon I walked*had once been the bottom of the sea, and that the mighty stones had been washed by Mightier waves, and deposited there long ere the oemlag of mad. Mile after hkUe as v*aeuy K - v - 1 - >

stretched the stony blocks—some UU and huge monoliths, pencilled ever by green mess and grey lichens; seme flat and recumbent, like mighty tombstones —as indeed thpy were. Verily It was Tadmor of the wilderness; broken up confusedly, as if an earthquake had just passed. BuT though the scene was wild and! bleak below the sky was calm above! it. calm and flecked with delicate filmy clouds that stretched gently over the brilliant blue ofthe far-off ether. Had mv heart been less sad,! should hate exulted in the beauty and wonder of the scene- Even as it was, I drank in the keen moorland air with a quickening sense of life. Gradually the dark shadows flitted from my brain, and the strength of my manhood returning j upon me, I passed on rapidly across the open waste. J More than* once in my passage I struck the road again, and found myr self among moorland villages and pasturages, with intervals of leafless wood.« At midday I halted at a farmhouse, situated many miles from human habitation and surrounded by pastures watered by a wild moorland stream. As I approached .the door, a troop of wild shepherd dogs sur* rounded me. so savage that I had to beat them off with my staff; but thesimple occupants welcomed’mewith true pastorial hospitality, regaled me royally with scones and milk. The coming of a stranger was an event in lonely lives, and they bad a hundred' questions to ask concerning myself,my destination, and the unknown region whither I was bound. The sun was setting when I sighted Torborne, the inland village where 1 had arranged to sleep, which was close on fifty miles from my old home by the roa. It was a mining settlement, and as I approached I found myself abreast a rough tram-r6ad 06 mmu nicating with the mines- A busy sound of clattering and clanking, clashing and rushing, broke upon my ear; great wheels suddenly appeared,revolving in the air above my head, together with a lofty chimney, skeleton platforms, and iron chains clanking oyer iron pulleys. Flocks of women and children soon appeared, busy on the surface. Close by tfibm ran a brawling stream, copper-colrred by the refuse* of the mine. They greeted me merrily, as I paused to look at them. I noticed that they spoke a dialect somewhat different from that of the district where I had lived 90 long. I slept at Torborne, and at daybreak next morning proceeded on my way. Soon after mid-day I reached my destination, another mining settlement on the very borders of two counties, Cornwall and Devon. I found it to be, as rumour had informed me. a ‘lonesome 1 place, situated on the banks of a small river, and surrounded on every side by the wild blocks and tors of the moor. The mines on which I had been engaged belonged to Lord .who had a residential castle close by, and whose representative, a solicitor, resided in the village, I reported myself In due course,and was forwith installed in my positiou. Before the day was out, I quite understood the motives which ted to the engagement of a man with a ‘rift’ in his character. The miners were a wild, godless lot, and the last overseer, an elderly man, had more than once gone in danger of his life. As a person still suspected of violent proclivities, I had j been chosen to take his place. The truth was, the place bore the worst names, and few men would have aooepted the situation, at any price. The agent, during our first interview hinted that the miners needed an iron hand to rule them; and I was rather j glad than otherwise of the Information | for I wanted work, the more desperate : the better. That varV alternoonlinspected the place,and found myself inspected Tn tiivb by as villainous a—set effaces asQl had ever encountered. There was much muttering and murmuring, for the fellows wanted to be under the direction of one of their own ' number, one Michael Looe.a red-haired i giant, who had this one advantage over his comrades—that he could read and write.

The very next day, the first after my installation, I found out the sort of opposition with which I had to reckon. As l stood by the open mine, giving some directions, that same Looe ran iup against me. with a pickaxe on his ' shoulder and almost capsized me. A hoarse laugh greeted this performance. | i “Can’t ’ee look where you’m gaun,; j measter?” the fellow grinning savagely, to the huge delight of the throng— i men, women and children. I looked him steadily in the'face. as one looks in the eye of a furious bull. What I saw there did not daunt me. The fellow was a bully,and I had dealt with bullies before. If I was to retain any authority in the place, I must bring i him to his senses. “What’s your name?” I said quietly. “My name?” he repeated, leering round at the others. “Mike Looe, if you maun knaw. As good a name as yourn I’ll wager.” Another laugh greeted this touch of primitive humor* •♦My natho is Hugh Trelawney: and. as I am master here. I’ll trouble you to remember it. If you don’t,„my man, I’ll find a way to impress it on your memory,” *

“You will, will ee?” said the giant. ‘•And so you be measter? Mates,” he added, looking round, "d’ye hear ’un? Take off your hats to ’un! This tine gentry p&p be measter i’ the mine, j Take off your hats to 'un. I say!” And suiting the action to the word, hd bowed mockingly before me. My blood was now up, and I faced him resolutely. ‘-Go back to your work,” I said. **Ko more words. Do as I bid you.” ’ IJts manner changed from mockery , to Bavage determination. 1 ••Who’ll make mes” he said, brandishtng bis pick a*a Before a* knew what 1 wee sheet. 1

wrenched the weapon from Us hand, and flung it oa the ground. He j clenched his fist and made a rush at | ; me. I waited for him, hnd landed a blow which made him stagger back, dazed. The med flocked around us, murmuring and threatening. But Michael Looe had confidence in his own prowess. He weighed fifteen stdhe, and had the fists of An&k; so that I, though a tall, strong man, looked no match ior such a giant. He uttered I a fierce oath, and bade the men stand ! back. i—■—V - j “Fair play, .lads!” he cried, grinning again. “Lea’the new chap to me, Don’t 'ee see he means fightin?” With that men made a ring, while their champion stripped off his waistcoat and began quietly turning up hisroleeves, showing an arm with muscles like iron bands. For a moment! shrank back, not that I feared the ruffin, but because I felt ashamed to take part in such a brawl. The men saw my hesitation, and uttured a derisive cry. •‘Look at ’un! He bo afeer’d! Hit 'un in the ’ee!” At this juncture an old man, one of their number, but superior in manner to the rest, whispered in my ear: x ••You’d best bolt, measter. He’ll smash ’ee like an egg, as he did chap afore’’ee!” My answer was derisive. Off went my coat, down went my hat on the ground, and clutching my fi9ts, I faced the giant. This rather turned the tide of feeling in my favor; at any rate, it, elicited a fesble cheer. The men pre- j [ pared themselves for enjoyment; a real! stand up “fight” was Imminent. Ware I acquainted with the beautiful vocabulary of the ring, I might com- j pose a prose poem on this episode: * but alas! I am as one uninstructed,and after all, it is too absurd. Annoying as the aftair was at the time, I laugh at it now. Mike Looe came at me like Gohath, but at the first encounter I discovered that he had no science. I myself had a littlvr. and though far his inferior in 1 weight, possessed muse'es and sinewsh of steL*. due to my healthy life and] constant exercise, from boyhood 1 upward, in the open air. The result is easily predicted, lu matters ofrfis- | tiana, science, combined with pluck, is 1 everything. Before many minutes had I passed. Michael Looe had received as ! sound a thrashing as man could desire. He lay on the ground, his head sup- | ported on the knee of one of his com. • rades, and looking stupidly up into my face. i I turned to the men with as much good humor as I could assume under 1 the ornaments of a black eye and a bleeding forehead, whereon myoppon-! ent’s fist had descended with the force ' of a steam rami ••Well, my lads,” I cried, “you seo I’ve paid my footing. If any of jou! ' think I haven’t paid enough, let him stand up, and i’ll give him a little more.” j This speech, quite in the humorous manner of my late opponent, completed my victory. It was greeted with ;an uproarious laugh and a cheer. To my astonishment, the men crowded round me, and began shaking hands. Then Mike Looe, rising slowly, approached me, and held out his enormous fist. “Shake hands, measter,” he said. I “If you can lick me, you can lick any two r o ’un. Eh; Lord, but you knaws how to feet, don’t ’un mates? Gi’e me yur han. You may sac me to-neet and willing, but I’ll go bail you’m the right sort to be measter here!” So we shook hands, and from that moment my physical supremacy was undisputed. Instead of dismissing my late opponent, as he anticipated, I kept him in his place, and he, afterwards"became my righthand man. After that day I had very little trouble in retaining my due authority as over* seer of the Gwendovy Mine.

CHAPTER XXXIX. A NEW SCRPKISE. ' My life at Gwendovv was quiet and unoveutful enough. I found a decent lodging in the house of one Mark Drew—the elderly man who had advised me, in a friendly way, to run for it. just when I was about to tackle the champion of the mine. It was a white, washed cottage on the skirts of the moor, and sufficiently removed from the noise and bustle of the mine itself. I had a bedroom and small parlour, so that when I got around me my small stock of worldly goods, including a few books, I was tolerably comfortable. and as contented—well, as contented as one crossed in love can be A fortnight passed away. Short as was the time, it seemed an age to me, hungering as I was for some news from home. I had received one letter, written by Annie, in which she told me that no change had taken place since my departure, but ihiade no mention whatever of Madeline Graham or George Redruth. To this I had replied in as cheerful a strain as possible, but shamefacedly keeping silence on the subject nearest my heart. I was full, .therefore, of secret anxiety. (To be continued.) Could Not Hit Him. Texas Siftings. Justice—You say that tho prisoner threw stones at you? Witness—Yes, 6ir. He threw over a dozen at me. Did any of them hit you? No, sir; I dodged them. How far was the prisoner from jnn when he threw? About twenty feet. And do you mean to say that the prisoner threw a do/.en stones at you, at a distance of twenty feet, and did not hit you? Yes sir. You see. I used to be a base ball umpire, and am used to dodging. Yea, ! I thought there was some reason toe jour not being hit

FARM NOTES.

February is the time to provide or arrange for those three essential factors in farrOig. “Get the best,” should be the motto in regard to all j seeds. Much depends upon tbe purity l and genuineness as to variety of the seeds planted, in most crops, and hence great care should be-exercised in the selection and purchase of what may be | wanted. The wise course “is to Select | carefully from the lists ol trustworthy root only important to obtain superior seed, in the season, but a change of variety is often advisable. These matters will not be neglected by wide awake progressive soil-tillers A good fertilizer will be necessary to make even the be3t of seeds produce abundantly in most localities, and now Is the time for those who need other! than barnyard manure to arrange for some good commercial fertilizer—or, what will be cheaper, purchase the materials and mix them according to some reliable formula. Note, also,* that this is a favorable seasorfto haul, plaster, muck, etc , and no one whose soil needs such aids to fertility should neglect the matter. No danger of injuring tho soil by making it too rich. It is the rich, fertile farm that tends to enrich the owner or manager. Intelligent cultivators need not be told that improved tools and implements are indispensable to the proper utilization of good seeds and fertilizers. Nor need they be reminded that February is the best inotfth for repair, ing and painting all kinds of farm machinery, If you would make progress in the right direction, give these things ! prompt attention. Now, also, is the | time to decido and arrange for such new tools and machines as may be required to successfully carry on the operations of the coming season. FLOWERS AND PLANTS. Farmers who are so fortunate as to possess flower gardens and lawns will not be overworked in caring for them this month. -To prevent injury is the j chief care until the opening of spring. \ Keep snow from damaging or destroying evergreens by shaking the trees after each storm, thus preventing the snow from accumulating and freezing ;in the branches. The paths and roads ! should be cleared after each snowfall by the prompt use of shovels and snow plows. THE CROP OF FIREWOOD. Firewood is another important crop. Though it is accessible at all seasons 'and may be secured at any time, winter j jis the most favorable for harvesting | wood fuel, especially when there is ! good sledding for hauling it home or to market. Farmers who have wood lots should cut and haul an ample sup- i ply before spring opens, and then see 1 ; that it is properly prepared for use ! when wanted. An article that is es- ! sehtial to provide warmth nearly two- ; thirds of the year, and a necessity for j cooking during the whole (for but i few farmers use coal where wood grows), ought to receive the attention of every husbandman who would practice true economy and manifest proper regard for the comfort and coni, venience of his family. It is taken for granted that no ruralist who reads this journal would subject his wife, daughter or female help to the indignity of preparing firewood out doors in all sorts of weather (as do some socalled farmers), and hence we offer no admonition touching a matter worthy of universal condemnation. Speaking of wood-lot work, this is a good time to cut and haul timber; also to secure good oak, hickory, ash and elm sticks for wagon poles, stanchions, plow beams, beetles and maules, hay-poles, and many other purposes. It pays to have these Well seasoned and ready for use whenever wanted. THE MAPLE SUGAR CROP. This crop is now largely secured in February, whereas it was 'formerly harvested in springy a result of changes in the climatology of the country. Therefore, possessors of fruitful sugar orchards should prepare to begin operations as soon as the sap-running season opens. First put the camp in order and provide a good supply of dry fuel. Where many trees are tapped it pays to have all the modern improvements, which are quite different from those formerly in vogue, as readers who remember the frolicsome fun and hard work of the long ago sugar camp or “bush” can attest. But to produce good maple sugar and syrup careful attention and labor are still 1 necessary. Cleanliness is the first aoI quisite in the various manipulations of sugar making. All the utensil used ought to be of such materials as can be readily cleansed, and sap should never be allowed to become sour before being made into syrup. The buckets, storing casks or troughs, and boiling apparatus—indeed, every article used in the process of sugar making should be kept scrupulously dean and convenient for use. With everything in order before hand the labor of securing the best products of maple—the most delicious of all our sweets, honey not excepted—may be rendered most pleasant and possible; albeit skill and promptness iu manipulation are also requisite to marked success. People will pay the highest price when assured they are getting a pure specimen of the sweetest of all saccharines.

Seeking Light.

Mr. and Mrs. Blossom, of St. Louis, were discussing the woman questiou now agitating the Methodist Episcopal Church. v t . "The General Conference, in whTcfi it ispro'posed that women shall situs delegates, is a quadrennial body," re marked Blos-oro. "Yei,”- replied Mrs. Blossom. “1 i know that) but bow often doss it meetJ” ’ \ ' '• % ‘ '

LAST HOURS OF CONGRESS.

Pleasant Incidents—Taking Advantage of a Xinll. Special to Indianapolis JournoL A laughable scene occurred in the Senate this afternoon. Tho conference report on the copyright bill had just been disposed of. and for thirty seconds there was no business prossnted to the Senate. In a- single moment the opportunity appeared to be who had private bills they wished acted upon. That number of members rushed down to the front row of seats and stood up in straight lines, teu or twelvo abreast. Each held in his right hand a Senate calendar, and each had his thumb on theroumber of his bill. “Mr. President,” • ‘Mr. President,” “Mr. President,” exclaimed the Senators in appealing tones toward the presiding officer. The usual decorous atfd dignified Senate was in an uproar of laughter. Finally Senator Pierce, of North Dakota, whose term expires at neon to-morrow, turned to. his friends and in appealing tones said; “Please give a fellow about to go into private life a last chance. I have here a bill that I have been trying to get through ever since I came into Con. gress. This is the last opportunity I will ever have. I ask unanimous consent to take it up.” Every extended hand dropped. There was silence, Finally a voice, in friendly tones, cried out; “Go it.” The North Dakota Senator had the floor. There was not a word uttered. He presented his bill. It appropriated SI,OOO to repair and extend the officer’s quarters, barracks and other buildings used for military purposes at Fort Abraham Lincoln. It was read and passed without a single word of decate or explanation. Senator Pierce had the floor, and if he had wanted to do so, could have held it to pass every blit he has on the Senate calendar. When he sat down the clamor for recognition was renewed, but finally a general measure came up and the usual routine was resumed.

EX-SECRETARY ROBESON.

How Some Men Are Forgotten When They Ret ire From Publio Life. Washington Special to the Indianapo is Journal. How soon great men are forgotten when they drop out of public life. During the regime of President Grant and up to the time the Forty-seventh Congress expired, in 1883, few men were ; more prominent before tho country ! than General Robeson, of New Jersey, Secretary of the Navy under Grant, Congressman and general leader of the Republican party, General Robeson 6talked about the corridors of the Cap- | itol for several days during the closing scenes of Congress, and few knew or i addressed him. Fifteen years ago there ! was scarcely a man, woman or child but ! that was ready to recognize his robust j form and great, ruddy face. He was i one of the readiest debaters in the Forty-seventh Congress, and invariably went to the front in defense, es the party and in presenting tho aggressive principles it represented. He was a ■ stalwart of the stalwarts. As Gen. Robeson stalked in a lonely way about the haunts of former achievements he looked not much the worse of the wear of a decade. His round, red face was still aglow. His bar aside whiskers were snowy w&ite, His step was elastia. He looked well but he was not happy. Surrounded once by riches and power, he is said now to be deserted and poor. His family, it is stated, are in Europe, and the General is reported to be poor in this world’s goods. He has been a fine lawyer, but age having crept upon him he probably has to rustle to keep up his end of the professional tactics, Many a man in Congress who was about to retire, recognizing Gen, Robeson’s face or form, turned and looked behind in passing, doubtless reflecting that soon his present greatness would be consigned as completely to oblivion. Verily, tbe greatness of public office does not last long. The greatest of public men are soon forgotten,even by their nearest friends. Personal acts alone live.

Talleyrand and Napoleon.

Century What was strange ih Napoleon’s behavior towards me was, that at the time that he showed himself most suspicious of me he was endeavoring to draw Hie nearer to him. Thus in the month of December, 1813, he asked me to resume the portifolio of Foreign Affairs which 1 straightway declined, convinced as I was that we could never agree on the only poasiblo way of his escape from the maze into which he had been brought by his folly. A few weeks latter, in the mouth of January, 1814, de Caulaincourt had already started for the Chatilion congress, the Emperor worked almost every evenir j with M. de ia Besnardiere, who had the foreign office in M. de Caulain* court’s absence. In the course of these conversations which were kept up far into the night, he often opened his mind to him in a strange fashion. Thus he several times ‘epeated to him after reading the despatches in which the Duke of Vicenza to d him of 1 the progress of the (Jtaatillor negotiations, ‘■Ah! If Talleyrand were there he would pull me through ’’ A large owl wandered into Minneapolis, Minn., the othor afternoon, and perched on a street clock, where it remained until night fall, winking and blinking at passers by. l'wenty-six lepers were recently baptized at Purulia, India, making in all 118,lepers received into the church i since thecommenccment of the asylum u.roe years ago. ’’ I would not when I brush the dust oil my hat forget the of distrust Mptnioa In mj brai*- "" !*i

SHORT-HAND.

v * A Practioal Course for 0n1y.92j00 l —Send for P^rtlcolarai Fourth Lesion of Our Popular Series With Explanatory Notes. 'BEPABED BT PBOF. MOEAN CF ST. LOOTS, MO. When two or more persons meet together for dictation practice the following plan may be » adopted : Reseated all at one table. Do not practice for speed upon any exercise until you have learned to phrase end outline it correctly. Each student should, in turn, read tq the other members of the group, the exercise being read, not from the print, but from the notes last ' taken. When all the members of the circle havo read in turn. Compere the last draught carefully with tho original, and repeat . until errors cease to be found. Dictate slowly at first, gradually increasing the speed. HINTS TaSTUDEHTS. Always Carry in your pocket a copy of this paper containing the short-hand lesson, to read at leisure moments, while traveling, waiting for cars or steamboats, for lazy peoplo to keep appointments, or whenever an opportunity for a few minutes’ study may bo had. Most pupils press the pen too hard upon tho paper, making both the light and shaded lines tiea’ ier than they should be. This extra pressure means more friction, more labor, more time, less speed. Tho rapid stenographer always touches tho paper lightly. It is an excellent plan to cultivate lightness of touch by frequent practice in writing the thin stems as fine as possible, executing them rapidly, barely touching the paper with the pen. The learner who always cultivates a compact •sty loot writ lagwill in the end Be both more rapid and accurate. By compactness of stylo ir meant that the characters be written not orl; small. But closely together. The handwriting cf most all lieginners is too largo and sprawTLg. EXPLANATION. After «, sh, and In some other cast ;, Tis written downwards. See line 0. It is then called el; and when struck upwards, lay. The signs for 1, oi, and ow, should be made as small, light, and sharp-angled as possible. When two vowels are written by one stem, one is placed nearer, according to tho order In which they occur. The circle ris always written on iltoinsideof curves. At first, curves are difficult to write. As to dogreo of curvature, they should be nearly onolourth of a circle. Ee careful to bend themevenly throughout. In tlusuiul all remaining lessons, spend at least two hours in copying and ra-copying tho Plate. Then write the words as they are read to you from the Key, compare with tho Plate, and repeat until no errors are found. Also write and re-write tho exerciso a number of times. Occasionally transcribe your 6hort-hand, and comparo the translation with the original print. At first write slowly, and with great care; afterwards Increase your speed gradually. First— Practice on Plate 4 until you can cop ; it In four minurt s. Second— Spend twenty minutes writing iiie word-signs In Lessons 111 and IV as they are read to you miscellaneously. Third— Write in shorthand the following Exercise: Knee nay nigh know oil safe savo file feel valo vile fame foam Lylo loaf loum Maine lief leave moil knife leak bore door fore pOie pile palo peel bale bile fails tolls vico. KEY TO PLATE 4. 4 Fee fie vie lie lay lee mow (verb) mow (noun). 5 Oaf eve eel isle ire our life Tower. 6 Kiln knoll kneOl name lope league chore boil. 7 Nose faco sign savo soro sown aims James, 8 Dio leech sours soils arise Fido voyage Mila 0 Word-Signs— For have will mo my him In any no. 10 Never now give anything that first wo you. Translate lines 11 to 15. (Tho words in lines U and IS occur ulso in the exercise given übova!

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The Only Royal Contributors.

It is worthy of note that the only two royal and imperial personages who personally contributed to the relief of the Johnstown sufferers were the widowed and almost forgotten Empress Augusta of Germany, and the tiniversally assailed and much-decried sultan of Turkey.—New York World.

A Mitigated Retraction.

First Doctor —You have beennepreading the report that I poisoned several people in this town. I want you to take it back. Second Doctor—Certainly, I don’t hesitate to say that there are several people in this town whom you have not yet poisoned. Hope you are satisfied now.—Texas Siftings. A Different Complexion. Husband (impatiently)—What is the reason my wife don’t come down? I thought she was almost ready to go to the ball half an hour ago. Maid—She will be ready in a minutq sir. She has been changing her color. —Texas Siftings. ~ A mountain slid a at Dixon’s Bar, fifty ml lea from Wavarville, Gil*, completely damned the Trinity River. Near San Job* the water rose to the door of a house 300 feet above the river. The river is gradual* If catting a new channel. •*• J,