Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 3, Number 5, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 3 August 1872 — Page 6

,-3FV I

IN THE HOSPITAL.

His hoars are numbered," the doo'.or said. As he leant o'er the dying pauper's btd, Kindly easing the throbbing head.

Last night, "old the nurse, "he was lavln* to me Of a waiting wife, by some lar off eea, Whose sheeny hair In Its braided fold Glistening and gleaming like the burnished gold— The treasure for which his life was sold.

A restless wanderer In Western lards, He had delved and dug in the rivers sands. With furrowed forehead and toiled«stained hands And still came dreams—when the sun went down,

And the moaning torrent and foam Dashed on to the ocean—of sea coast town And scenes and faces and songs of home, And the gleaming tresses in loving rest Were pillowed in peace on the miner's breast.

He spoke of the hopes of coming years. And the summer days by the smiling shore Where the feverish gold-thirst should rage no more And be dried forever the watcher's tears."

Again he babbled of pleasant lanes, And a bright-eyed girl he led from school, And of noonday baths In a crystal pool, And a mother whose years were on the wane I

That night when the city was wrapped in gloom, And the flowing tide luppeu the sandy

Wlthout^roan or murmur or parting

A soul passed'out of the hospital room.

[From the Atlantic Monthly for August.J

John Rickson's Trial.

Back and forth—Back and and forth —John Rickson marched,almost spurning the confines of the noble room that seemed just now to hem him in he wanted space, space to breathe in, space to.think it all out in. Every liis Strong frame quivered his

nerve in eyes

were bloodshot. Once he stopped before an elegant toilet-table, daintily draped with delicate laces failing over masses of pale, lustreless pink silk, and lavishly furnished. Cases in gold filigree bottles capped with silver that bore such tracery of leaf and vine as the spirit ot the frost breathes upon crystal little boxes filled with appliances lor the delectable tinting of Aura's complexion here an oddly shaped bit of silver, with tiny blades, devoted to the trimming of her shapely nails.

Well, he had always delighted in Aura's stately beauty. Why should the sight ot these things make him frown and gnash bis teeth, and groan like a man plunged in the very depths of despair

John was thirty five, and not lianclBomo. There was power in his face: it was capable of a wonderful illumination, at times. Once seen,it could never be forgotten once loved, it sent thrills to the heart for a life-time.

He was of mtdium height his limbs were straight and symmetrical his arms were hard as Iron. He was an enemy to be dreaded in time of sudden xjage—of overwhelming anger.

Once, as he stood there, he lifted his heavy hand as if to sweep oil the pretty appliances over which he brooded with set lips and eyes that held a story in their gloom, but just at that moment there came a knock at the door, and he stepped back, panting. "Who's there?" he asked, between his tOQth.

Master—father!" exclaimed a voice pure and clear as some note of divinest music.

Go away he said, almost harshly. "I don't want you now. Will she never have done calling me master, I wonder he added.

And yet before he spoke there had come over his face a strange, quick rapture. Ho had taken one, two steps toward the the door, then stopped with both hands held hard against his breast na ir in the act of holding back some demon.' Thon ho listened with ear Intent, his head thrust forward.

Utter silencethen a slow rustle as of a woman's garments then a lingering step—Irresolute, fbinter, yot fainter —4hen silence again.

I need not have been so harsh with the child," he said under bis breath "but what am I to do? God only knows how I suffer: treachery on one hand,and the sweetest love on tue other, Aura, I would have been true to death hut yoa have made my cup very bitter, woman—'very bitter 1 And Oliver"— ho pausod, hlB lips trembled, his voice grew broken—"whom Ijlovod with a love passing that of woman—oh, my God !—and you too ll*ve oftrayod ine!"

Ho throw hih)ft41f-Mbit tleop arm* 9inlr by the window. HMMug l'&ir was the'vision before him, iSfrM far It commanded his appreciation it might have bcton covered with sackcloth and ashes. In the distance, a rock-walled harboci, tho glint of the blue waters be-, yotid the terraced grounds to the right swelling into stately hills a little chap* ol built by tho Jesuits, centuries ago forests of white sails out in the harbor, and the sun pouring gold upon field mid valley—upon hi* own wide acre©, upon the jeweled water, oreeping up to his retroat but for the cool shades of two great oluis. He suxilep griaily as he saw them—tho trees grown so toll and stately. OUver bad plauted one, land he the other. Over the slender withes they had joined hands and sworn eternal friendship. They were boys then. Oliver's taoe was bright! With Italian beauty. There were truth and loye in the'dartfTpasslonate QffS.

They had grown up together, lelt college together, cons into business together. John bad money, and both had brains.

John traveled and brought home a Mtfo—a lovely creature upou whom the sun of his prosperity alwaysshmie—an heiress. Poor Jotn I be had given the whole wealth of his honest love to a heartless girl, and he knew it soon, to hie cost. She cared for nothing but her pampered self, lie indulged her in all *er fancies, even to the adoption of a pretty child a few years aftef their marriage.

For awhile the child pleased her asjt new toy might, and tbon she tired of if. But John loved the little creature: ahe amused him with her artless prattle.Aa ahe grew older, and made progress in her studies and accomplishments, she gave a soul to the long useless gran a

Which stood Inpne of the parlors, and,John was passionately fond of music.

Tho was now sixteen, and Johnr whose wife had resolutely driven bim from her, by long-continued cofefaKsn. hsd allowedhfrnMir no'fasten the broken tendrils of his love about this gentle woman-child.

Bo* God help the man tHe had not known how it stood until now—note— when he held in his hand a crushed paper—the half of a note, directed in his wife's hand to "dear Oily" and whose Cbntants indicated that a correspondence had been going on those years between his partner and that woman.

Hl& blopd had ran fire in his vt#ua ever since. The tint impulse of his outraged soul was to seizes pistol and hxt Oliver Pyas dead—dead! And then there had come to his heart a reve

TERRE-HATjTE

lation that palsied his band and made him cowardly. He shrank from himself. He could not all at once tear out the strong love that had been so constant ever since he had first known Oliver. He could not deny that the voice of Bessy Rickson was sweeter to his ear than the sweetestfmusic. He was torn by contending desires, agonies, doubts, and fears.

Bessie had lingered long at the door, grieved at the harsh voice that forbade ner to enter, and hoping he might relent. A lovely little figure all in spotless white, only one crimson white rose shining against the rich gold of her hair, with eyes as blue as heaven, and lips as pure as those of an angel, with only one desire in heart: to comfort the man she had seen enter the house a little while before, the sorrow ol his soul legibly written on his face.

But the summons came not. Slowly —oh, so slowly—pausing more than once, one pearly hand throwing back the beautiful curls, she retreated toward the staircase, and quietly wended her way to a sittiug-room on the first floor—cool, shaded, and charming in its decorations. She crossed the wide, matted hall, and paused on the threshold. John's wife was lounging in a superb, claw-footed easy chair, the crimson glow of which added lustre to her dark beauty. In one hand she held a book in the other a' fine golden chain which she had jast unwound from her wrist.

Here, Bess, put this on the stand for me," she said languidly. "Well, did you find vour master

Bessy shook her head. She loved to hear him called herjmasterever since h® had superintended her studies in French. Something in her pliant nature answered to his imperious soul. Perhaps she came remotely from a race easy to subjugate, and willing to be ruled.

He's in one of his black moods, I suppose. I have encountered them onco or twice in my life. He could be a human tiger, I think."

Aura, don't say that," Bessy cried, with a pained look. Since the child had attained her present stature, Mrs. Rickson had never allowed her to call her "mother."

I'm glad you think so well of him," responded the woman with a light laugh. You may love him all you wish for all I care. Do you hear?" she added, with an evil light in her black eyes: "you may love him all you wiBh."

Bessie looked steadily at her, and she at Bessy. I think it angered the worn an that the girl's pure eyes neither fell nor faltered in their glance—the soft color of her cheeks never deepened, as she answered:

I dont think I could love him better than I do, Aura." Pshaw cried the woman under her breath, frowning: "I believe- you are both fools." Suddenly she caught up her book something had struck her vision. She opened it at a certain place, and saw with consternation, the folded half ot a note lying snugly ensconced between the pages.

Presently, looking through the book, she grew pale, started to her feet,whirled aside the long train of her gossamer dress, pushed the chair away with such energy that it slid almost to t£e door, knelt to the floor, searching wit/h wild glances.

What have

you

lost?" ^Bessy asked,

looking round from the table where she had deposited the chain. Nothing—a bit ol paper, a memorandum. Go into the dining room,Bessy quick, quick! Run out into the arbor—I was there an hour ago. Bring me a sorap of paper,with writing'on it— a torn note—here, like this."

Bessy hurried to search the hall, on the stairs, the dining room, the arbor, and come back with nothing. Aurelia had meantime been in the upper hall had listened with throbbing pulses to the heavy measured tread within. Her cwn words came back to her, and made her sick at heart, "He could be a human tiger, I think."

She went back Bossy met her at the foot of the stairs—a sweet vision, as near angelic as any creature of human mould could be, and for the first time, Aura felt the divine power of innocence, as she saw the lovely face upturned to hers. "I can't find it—anything I hunted everywhere. There was a newspaper in the arbor, and this little stud—perhaps it's papa's—but nothing else."

Aura seised the stud. She knew whose it was—not John's—that tiny, shining diamond-pointed trifle and Bessy noticed that hei firm white hand tremoled aa she took it.

Was it very important she asked, anxiously, wondering at the strained, colorless' fape. "Can I do any thing more

No. child it was nothing but a list of things. Keep still aboot this stud John don't like to confess to csr&essness and with this lie on her lips, she went irfto the sitting room, and nervously looked frer the pages of the book again.

And, overhead—tramp, tramp, tramp! \yhat was the matter with John? Could there have been a quarrel—could J®fit have Pound? She stood still sqifldcnly in her walk to the window, clenched her hands and turned deadly pale.

There was no help far it. Fool—fool I" she mattered, tp copy the letter. I never did such a thing in my life before: and to think"—again she gave a hurried glance abotit, again pinfolded half of the note then rewlntely crushing it, thrust it into her pocket, turned and walked defiantly up stairs.

It would not do to falter,butshe snook from head to ibot as ahe touched the door knob. "John, let me in 1 want something,1* she said bravely.

The lock was turned, the door thrown wide open, and the face of her husband, terrible hi its dark, fixed inger, confronted her.

But she went in, assuming aa ait of uucoaccru. He shut the door after her then he spoke:

Aurashe knew by his voice whst to expect, and half turned. He, of a sadden, caught both her band* and prisoned them in one of his. For the life •f her sbe could not help shrinking from the glare ot his eye.

So It seems that I have been your fool, and Oliver yoar dupe," he aaid, through his shut teeth, as he drew her towara the shut window ahe struggled but faintlv. Then he held up the very hair of the note which she had lost. She had the grace to cower at aight of it, to grow gray to the lips, as, with a low cry of despair, she strove to hide her face on the hands which he held like a vtee, but he Vang her from him with an awful oath, and ahe staggered sad

staggered of his arm,

fell, not with the force of bis ann, but because of the deadly terror and fainU ness that oppresed her.

I dare say yon ifad it all arranged," he said, in a low voice that held Doth anguish and anger "bat I'll thwart that* I am going overto see Mm now."

At that ahe lifted her head. Her hagard, dumb beauty had no power oyer itn any more. She slowly lifted herself, as he passed her then she caught

t* ry.* TA

SirnttTA

at his arm with the strength of despair, and held him. What are you going to do to him she cried, hoarsely.

John turned upon her, shook her off, bent bis face and bis wild eyes closer, as the words came hissing upon the silence

Kill him!" Her shriek rang through the bouse. Bessy found her a moment alter in a fainting fit on the floor. It was some time, even after powerful restoratives had been applied, before the guiltv woman returned to consciousness. When she saw Bessy bending over her, weeping like a child, she turned away with a groan.

If, indeed, John bad fulfilled his threat, her punishment was more than she could bear for she had been the serpent in this paradise—the guilty wily tempter. Sne lay very still, and would not let Bessy speak to her.

John was closeted in bis countingroom with the man who had been, as he thought, his life-long friend. Few words passed between them, for it seemed to John as if his heart were broken.

You are not fit to live,Oliver Dyas," he said "and if I had met you at first, when this discovery was hot upon me, I should have killed you like a dog. Now, when you say that nothing but these treacherous letters has passed between you, I choose to believeyou but from this moment out paths diverge. I shall break up and leave the country: and now all is over between us. God help me! it is hard, to find the man on whose integrity I would have staked my life, play false in this devilish way. I don't envy your future," he added, and went out.

And now began another and more agonizing warfare. Bessy w-as watching for him—flitting from the house door to the gate—wondering what bad happened that John and Aura had quarreled longing in her childish soul to give him comfort —her dear, dear master—her loving noble father How could Aura speak to him, of him, as she did sometimes He had never been harsh with her.

John was walking home, gloomily, feeling himself a wronged, wretched man: hating himself, Aura, Oliver— everybody but little Bessy.

Once he stopped short with a bewildered, dazed look. After all, might there not be some happiness in store for him? This bright, pure, fair, little girl, who looked up to him, caressed him, loved—ah, with all the uilelessness of her tender nature— oved him now as a father, but in time might she not A thrill of ecstacy shot through his aching heart, and the next moment he cried

My God—what! am I going to turn villain, too Not long after that Bessy flew down to the gate to meet him. He let her take his hand he smiled upon her in a grave, unusual way he allowed her to lead him to a seat in the cool sittingroom, and take his hat and gloves from him and flutter about him with a thousand tender anxieties in her gentle eyes. All this time he w.as thinking, thinking. It was like heaven to see her there, sitting at his feet, recalling the pretty little incidents that had happened to lighten his heart, or lift that weary look from his forehead, knowing as he did that in one sense that he was a betrayed and ruined man, but feeling yet that to his own soul his own honor was spotless.

As he sat there his thoughts took on a darker hue. The tempter pressed him hard: he was almost lost in a sweet, sweet reverie of the possible To Be. He held the means of revenge in his own hand he held the scourge of power over his wicked wife he held the heart —the soul—of this exquisite girl to mold it as he might. Spite of himself, a rapt, intense pleasure spread over his face, which grew bea'utiful as Bessy gazed up wistlully. "What are you thlnglng of, master?" she asked.

Strange that now the word "master" did not offend bim. "I was thinking how pleasant it would be to go off to afar country—say to Italy"—he replied, that same sweet beauty brightening his brow—"to see the old-world wonders—its splendid skies and heaven-high mountains to buy some cottage, nestling amid bowers of trees ana roses ana there pass our lives, and never think of this cold, cruel country again."

O father!" Bessie responded, creepmng close to him "will you When lhave read about it, it has seemed like iparadise to me."

It would be paradise," he murmured. She lifted herself, and, gliding to his side, began touching his hair with her dainty fingers—a pretty, caressing way she had, which was very sweet to him. "You would like to go, then he said, passing his arm about her waist.

You know I would go anywhere with you," she answered, laying her cheek against his forehead "but, oh of all places, to Italy!" She drew a deen breath of content. fife let her rest thus, shutting his eyes while he thought, ana the heavy throbs of his heart could almost be heard, as be dallied with the dangerous temptation.

Why should he live a loveless life, betrayed, deceived, as he had been? Why should he not reap the fruits of an iqnocent devotion he shuddered— "innocent 1" And this child, with her golden locks rfnd pure, Madonna face —this child, who knew no other love— whom his arms had sheltered—whose very dreams were, as yet, guiltless as ang»ls* visions 1

Go I" he said, with a sudden im-

ulse».his whole face growing dark, as unwound his arm and pushed her from him. "I had rather be alone."

Sarppised—grieved, at bis manner which seemed rough—at his face, just now transfigured, but frowning and nnlovelv, as he turned abruptly away Bessy stood still where he had thrbst her/ber tender, red lips quivering. She knew not what to say—what to do Had she offended him? He stood at the window, his arms fblded, looking into the garden, feeling in his soul thst he had hurt her—that ahe was watching hhn, with tearful eyos. firmer be pressed his arms hard down upon his bosom more sternly he called in his "wandering thoughts, till he felt her touch upon his arm.

Well, he said, not daring to logk down.

.t #ci tr u. «r

You were cross to me!" No, Bessy, not cross—bu I have had 'great trouble to-day. Go, child dont weary me."

She silently turned, and almost ran from the room. "Poor child!" he murmured, in a hopeless, dreary voice. '*1 must hurt her bat, to me, It is like plucking out the right eye."

Bessy went to her own room and oame down no more that evening. As for Aurelia. ahe was only too glad to be sore or her own miserable life—to know that Oliver had not been harmed but she was weak enough yet to taunt John about Bessy, when he told her that Oliver had (gone *WCX

And hereafter, I am to be second to that little pauper," she said, bitterly. You are not good enough for that," John made reply. "I am going, to save my name from reproach, and to keep my beautful wife out of mischief, As for Bessy"—his voice choked—"that pure child must no longer breathe the same air with treachery and corruption in the person of Aura Rickson. No I shall leave her behind, with my sister."

This news he communicated to Bessey, very gently, on the following day, in the presence of his wife.

Bessv'scheek grew like marble the child felt a cold despair creep into her heart. To leave these people, whom she loved, and live henceforth among strangers! What did it mean And only the night before be had framed sucn beautiful pictures of other lands he had asked her if it would please her to go to Italy, and she had said Yes, ana felt so happy—as If all was settled. She said nothing, however. John kept himself aloof Aura was cold and forbidding some wretched cloud had settled over the household—some threatening of evil seemed ever in the atmosphere.

After all, this was not really her home Aura had told her so, rudely enough, years before. But she knew no other parents—no other shelter—no other love. John had never given her an unkind word or look before and she was quite used to Aura's whims. To leave them seemed an agony too great to bear.

You are to go to with John, to-morrow," Aura said, not long after, one soft, moonlight evening. "Take Minna up to your room she will help you pack. My trunks are there—you can have the smallest one—and you had better get ready to-night."

Bessy's heart was nearly bursting. Her proud little face scarcely changed, however she had become somewhat accustomed to the idea but she would never betray to Aura, who had been so cold, and almost cruel, of late, the true state of her feelings. Mechanically, she threw down dresses and emptied boxes, scarcely hearing the steady stream of small talk which Aura's maid poured out. "And she, this silly girl, will go to that beautiful country," she thought bitterly, "while am left among strangers. Nobody loves me: I am bereft and wretched." "t

The time of trial came. Aura coldly gave her cheek for a good-by kiss, and as coldly turned away. John was to accompany her to that was one comfort—John whose heart ached for the little, whitefaced girl, who sat so silently and so patiently by his side.

As for him—well it was that she knew nothing of the tumult raging in his tortured soul. Many a time he said fiercely to himself "Why not quaff lrom the brimming cup so near to your lips Take her with you, now, away from the haunts of men. She will go did she not say she would go wherever you went Ay, like a slave, she will do your bidding. Ask her."

He turned half round in his seat and she looked up at him, with appeal ing eyes. O, how he longed to gather her to hisjheart.

You would go he said impul sively. Where, father?"

Anywhere, with me ...r

O, you know I would," she answered, her beautiful eyes swimming with tears. "Too late! too late!" he muttered, between set teeth.

He said nothing more, leaving her to wonder why, till they gained the city and, finding a carriage, he placed her within, seating himself beside the driver. His manner chilled and frightened her. The poor child wondered what she had done.

They stopped before a tall, stately mansion, and were ushered into the

Sohn's

resence of a gentle-looking woman only sister. Is this the little maid who consents to Bhare my solitude she said, kiss ing Bessy's white forehead. "I am so glad

Bessy strove to speak, but the words would not come. "She must go up-stairs and rest a moment then I will bring her down, for you to amuse: Of course, aftervour long journey—and you both look weary —you'll stay to dinner. Unfortunate ly, I have an engagement this morning and I have kept the horse waiting, till now.. You will excuse me, am sure."

Now came John's struggle. He strove to say tbat he, had business that it would be impossible for him to remain that Beasy had better go ont with her but one look at the

gimself

irl quite unmanned him. So he sat down, to fight the battle over. Every hour, he felt, weakened his resolution.

His sister gone, and a fair field for fight! Yes, even now, the thought pursued him onco away with Bessy, and the triumph was bis—yes, and Bessy was his.

Bessy apathetically took off her hat and shawl, and tried to look interested in the beautiful things about her but her heart was down-stairs with John. She wanted to say so much to him— wanted to ask for an explanation of his strange and sudden alteration, if she could only find words to do it in. A her heart beat

v{a pf urrj Tr-M«r cr.?

EVENING MAIL. AUGUST

fastr—it

3, 187-2.

might

just possible, that if she could make one plea, he would reconsider the matter—he would take her with bim, after all. Aura had told her that she wanted her perhaps he did not know that. She could have flown down the stately stair-oase, instead of waiting, demurely for the madam to go with ner. "Iam sure we shall be very good friends," said that lady, when, at last she was ready and presently, Bessy was alo-ie with-John.

Now she trembled—lost voice—lost courage. John pointed to a superb piano-forte, open. "Go," he said "play me something,—and," he added, in a lower tone, "charm the devil out of me." Then he dropped his face in bis ha&ds. Bessy saw him, for the keys of the instrument faoed the wall. Ahe sang one ol the sweet songs he loved, watching him—hoping that he would look up, to reward her with a smile, perhaps.

He never moved. She played on— Mid on—till the music grew almost msddening to her, for. as yet, John had not moted. Then she stopped, and watched him—no life, no motion—that same half despairing attitude. Hie silence frightened her.- Was he asleep Her heart ceased almost to beat. Was he dead, that be sat thus, like a statue?

She crept round—she stood before him—she satisfied herself that he breathed then she dropped st his feet, and the old plaintive cry wailed forth:

Master—father!" He moved his hands—they were wet great tears stood on his lashes.

O father—father! you are very unhappy. You have some secret, terrible sorrow."

Yes God knows I have!" he muttered. Tell me, and let help you, some way. Father—dear father, how could

you leave me behind I could have made you so happy! Aura never plays but I can soothe you, sometimes, with music. It is very hard for me to stay I shall be very, very unhappy. I know only you and Aura and you two are all I love I may never see you again. O father! it is very hard." Her head dropped on his knee.

I could take her in my arms, and hold her to my heart, and all hell should not tear her from me!" he muttered, fiercely, between shut teeth.

Bessy's sobs prevented her from hear-

You have ceased to love me," she cried, "because I didn't really belong to you—Aura said so: she wanted me to go."

Ceased to love you! Great God Bessy! look at me child Bessy lifted her head, startled by the hoarse passion of his voice. She looked at him—caught the strange glow and fire—slowly, slowly crept from his knee—slowly arose, still held by that magnetic glance, wherein all the power and sweetness of his soul seemed to be melting.

Then she drew back then, with a quick cry, she lifted both hands, and hid her race.

In that moment, the veil was drawn away—the girl had changed to the woman. Like a flash of lightning, came the consciousness of how this man loved her—and oh! woe! of how, henceforth and forever, she would love him!

He saw it all, intuitively, and one look of triumph flashed from bis eyes. Bessy stood—pale, trembling, and white—like one waiting to hear some fateful doom.

Bessy—you see—you know—now" —in vain he strove to steady his voice. "Shall I take you with me, to Italy?" "O, father I" The pure little voice smote him to the soul. She was a white dove and he was a wolf, he said, savagely, to himself.

Bessy"—there was a great struggle —"kiss me, child—as you did—before and—I—I—must go."

She crfept toward him, blindly, still hiding her eyes. He caught her to his bosom, once:

A father's kiss," he said, with a great sob and staggered out of the room.

For four years nobody knew the history of the silent man who came and went along the streets of the quaint Italian city. Onlyat the end of that time, a letter was written by John to his sister, in which he sent the news of his wife's death, by plague and his determination to remain, and Bpend his life where, at last, he had found peace.

And, walking one day in a little park, where the ruins of a ence stately fountain stood, John felt a touch upon his arm and a silvery voice, even more musical than of old, said, softly:

Master—father!" He had well earned his happiness for he had not dared even to speak of her, for fear she was lost to him. But here she was—Bessy! ten times more beautiful—love in her sweet eyes, love on her lips.

I'm not going to be driven away, again," she said, as she took one arm, and his sister leaned on the other. "We went to your lodgings, and the landlady said, may be we should find you here so we drove, as quickly as we could. Are you glad

If I were in heaven, do you think any one would ask me if I were glad?" he answered, with that rare suiile.

And you can guess the rest. It is exactly as you Imagine.

:iA HORRIBLE STORY.

s!iv-

_____

11--'

It comes all tkei^iy from, France.

A French paper publishes a thoroughly horrible story, the scene of which is laid in the "English island of Musketo Bav." The western coast of this island fa inhabited by negro fisherman, who remain in the retirement except at two periods of the year, when they visit the eastern coast to make purchases, and to misconduct themselves generally. On the last occasion of their making one of these periodical excursions they resolved to organize a dance of the most terrible character, on an unusually large scale, and, in order to provide themselves with a sufficient number of partners, they carried off all the young women tbey could find on the eastern side of the island. These were on arriving at the western coast, compelled to take part in the dance. Overcome by terror and fatigue, they fainted one by one, and as each dropped down, she was removed by order ot the chief of the band. At last the most robust of the captives alone kept the floor. "You are my queen," said the chief, addressing her, "and will celebrate our betrothal in a manner worthy of ourselves. Illuminate!" howled the savage. A red light instantly spread over the scene, and a horrible spectacle was revealed, The palm trees all round the spot had been covered with rosin and set en fire, and to the trunk of each was tied a woman burning to death. The chief then danced wildly among the flaming trees with his queen till tne orchestra struck the final chords of the measure, when he plunged a dagger into her bosom, so that she expired with the last notes of the music. "Those who do not think this "a good murder," are hard to please. It is Worthy of Alexander Dumas in his best days, and it is probably taken from one of his romances, or perhaps invented by the French editor to amuse his readers.

A STRASOB CREATURE,—Alblnola, a strange creature, who has for years smeared himself daily from head to foot with ointment of aa delectable composition as that of the cauldron pf Macbeth's witches, composed of rosin, sepia, adddrs' grease, vipers' grease, turpentine, etc., died in London the other day at the age of eighty-eight. He atrangely resembled Napoleon the Great, and always claimed tbat he, and not the Corsican, won the battle of Jena, by leaping on a horse and making to the front at a critical moment, bawling, "I am your Emperor! Stand firm! The day is ours!" Whereupon they stood firm, won the battle, ana Albinola passed on into obscurity again. These have been people who believed the story.

WITH HIS LITTLI: GAVBU—Senator Henry Wilson, since h» uouiination at Philadelphia, goes mooning about in the haziest, happiest condition. It is said that he Is Uking lessons in the art of presiding, and carries with him Cusning's "Jefferson's Manual" and a little gavel, and at interval* he reads and raps In the most lively manner. Ho created quite a disturbance at the [uiet country house of a friend not ong since. After retiring for the night he opened his manual, and began as tfsnal to road and rap. The alarmed family heard this mysterious knocking, and thinking spirits were about, actually had family prayer. As *Henry innocently let out the facts next day the indignant family went over to Greeley and Brown.—{CSapital.

[From the Lawrence (Mass..) American.] HOW HELEN TAKES A BATH« Appraaching the bath-house, the coy* Miss Helen glances nervously about the premises and then enters. Passing into the bath room, she cautiously locks the door, at the same time looking in every direction for some atrayfe insect that might possibly possess intelligence enough to appreciate her charms. Some five or ten minutes are Bpent in examining the cracks of the door, stufltag the key-hole with paperk and exploring the premises for some chance eye-ball that may have been left behind by the previous bather.^ She then approaches the mirror, con-* templates herself a few moments, and discovers some peculiarity in her ap-| parel. which she wonders, "Could it possibly have been noticed by anybody?" Consoling herself with the re-#' flection tbat she will correct the fault before leaving the room, she prepares herself to disrobe, commencing by removing her bat. The basque is then unloosed, then taken off and then carefully hung upon a peg then follows a piece of black velvet that encircles the neck, and the collar and breastpin her watch and chain were disengaged from the dress, and placed upon the mantel, before the glass, her diamond rings and earrings are laid beside them and the process of taking down the hair begins. -A number of hair-pins are extracted from one side of the head, and a "rat" is carefully unrolled the operation is carefully repeated on the other aide a multiplicity of hair-pins are extracted from the back of the head, and her beautiful curls, together with the "wire water-fall," are placed upon the mantel her own hair is then well shaken by the three or four quick movements of the hand, gently twisted into a roll by both hands, and impaled to the summit of her cranium unhooking the waist it is carefully doffed and holding it before her person in one hand, she again reconnoitres about the key-hole, and tries the door with the other satisfied of her security, she hangs up the waist and disengage the skirt, wnich she gently lifts over her head, wrong side out, and places upon a peg she then sits facing tne door, allows one limb to cross tne other, and unlaces her shoe, repeating the operation with the other, her eyes resting upon the door knob during proceeding the shoes are dropped gently besiue^ the chair, the stockings taken off, and, after being well shaken and straightened out, are allowed to lie over the back of the chair a gentle rubbiug of the feet takes place, as an acknowledgment of their heroism in enduring the recent torture a general stretch follows this act, and then the whito skirts are unloosed, and allowed to fall to the floor, u{ then picks peg the co4 bhe takes them off a sign of relief escapes her those are also laid away the next garment is taken off with extreme caution, while the eyes of the fair bather penetrate every erack and cranny of the room what now remains on her person is Jnobody's business, but after a little agitation something or another occupies an additional hook the towels are now examined, and one of them spread before the tub, on which she stands one more glanoe about the premises, and a fair hand is placed in the water to ascertain its temperature a little white foot is lifted over the edge of the water, but in quickly withdrawn, accompanied by

unloosed, and allowed to floor, upon which she steps, up and disposes on a third orsets are unhooked, and as

Uie well-known feminine utterance, '•Ouch!" A second attempt is more successful, and the foot sinks to the bottom the other more timidly finds its way to its companion, and the fair form stands in the tub another glance at the door, the knees bend, ana after several exclamations, such as, "Oh my J" "Gracious!" "Ouch!' etc., the body is recumbent beneath the water a gradual soaking, a train of fancy incidents, all the past fitting through her imagination, her conquests counted, visions of moustaches, etc., playing with her lively brain, and then a sudden realization that she is thoroughly soaked, follows in succession a tender rubbing takes place, and several ineffectual attempts to withstand the inclemency of the shower, she emerges from the tub and begins the drying

irocess after which an hour is spent donning her clothes and arranging her "twilight," not forgettingthealoresald defect in her apparel and spending ten minutes extra in admiring herself, she then saunters forth, inwardly congratulating herself that "the batu is off her mind for a week, anyhow." HOW HER Bia BROTHER TAKES A BATH.

Rushing lrantically through the barber shop,lie finds the bath-room, closes the door carelessly (never locks it) sets the water going, takes a chew of tobacco, sits in a chair, and pitches his hat upon a peg three or four feet above htm—'which he thinks something of a feat his boots are Jerked mercilessly off, and pitched into a corner, socks, ana then the coat is "yanked," and either hung upon a peg or pitched upon a chair the yeet follows, and is hong upon a gas bracket: suspenders* unloosed, neck-tie and collar speedily find the mantel the pants fait upon the floor, and are allowed to remain there the shirt torn half way down hfc» back in his frantic efforts to get it off and the remainder of his wardrebe soon occupies space upon the floor a few moments his toe nails with his fingers, and then a terrible splash tnk^H place the usual soak, numerous spirtH of tobacco juice over the tub on the "floor, and a rough scrubbing with tho towels (all of which are sure to be used) a hurried dressing and precipitate retreat into the street, and a "little suth-*/ in" to take the chill off.

FLIES.—Mosquitoes are undeniably a tormenting species of insect but there is this-to be said in their favor, that you frequently have a very good chance of not only oondemning, but promptly executing, one ot the insects which hasbeen drawing upon yonr resources. The fly, on the other band, is gifted with unrivaled powers of eluding thohuman grasp, and tormenU you at will, whilo Jrou impotently wrestle with him. He awakens' yo'u in the morning, just ae yon have sunk to rest after a sleepless night, he persistently resolves that yon shall not be refreshed} with any sleep after sunrise—for he is' a horribly early riser—and be oontinue* to barrass you, more especially at meal times, throughout the aay. A considerable mitigation ol this evil might be accompllsed by meeting the fly's tastes halt way. His peculiar gastronomic propensities are well known. In the presence of dessert he pays but littlo attention to dinner

and

if saccharine

attractions are plaoed at intervals aboufr the room, on plates and dishes, we may enjoy a comfortable immunity from at-' tack. There has, since the days or Solomon, been prejudice in manyis minds against dead flies. While shar-:. ing this sentiment, we Imagine tbat, as a choice of evils, most people would? prefer the corpse to tho body buzzing In their ears.

A Frenchman said of Shakespeare: "Ven you find anyaflng you no understand, it is alway somezing fine.