Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 9, Number 8, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 17 August 1878 — Page 2

BI

f?§j

THE

till®

A PAPER

liaisitti

FOR

THE PEOPLE.

TXRBB HAUTE, AUGUST 17,1878

TWO LITTLE FOLKS.

Up In the tree boughs a wise little blid Hat chirping, one bright rammer day, A-bobtoy and twisting bli fuanjr brown

In step with his riotous lay: Fer neverwo* bird cunt

Mora Jolly, triumphant,

More ftrallstaly merry and gay. "Twee-def-dnm," he sang "oh, how happy an I

In this beaatiftil world to be! I wonder who makes it so green and ae sweet

For a poor little bird like me, saw And If every new comergjt. Has socta a bright inmmer-Twee-dee-dnm,twee-dee-dam, twee-dee t" Down under the tree bongh a wee little girl

Bat sobbing that sweet summer day, A-rnfiling and tacking her onee pretty feoe In a most disagreeable way

Though never bad maiden So very grief-laden

More cause to be happy and gay. "Ob, dearie," she sobbed, "If chocolate creams

Only grew right ap here in the trees! 1 never can do as I want to at all— 1 never can eat what please

I can't have but twenty A day—when there's plenty-

No matter how hard I may tease." "Tee-dee-dnm, twee-dee," chirped the wise little bird

From his perch in the sycamore tree "How strange in the summer so green and so sweet, ...

So solemn a maiden to see— A sober, gray maiden— So very grief-laden— Twee-dee-dam, twee-dee-dam, twee-dee. So merry and happy, tbe wise little bird

Sang the hoars away lr the tree And still piped the maiden her sorry "Oh dear,

What a stupid old world to me!" And learned not the lesson— That wonderful lessonContained in bis simple "Twee-dee."

The Bank ^Forgery

OR,

Unrepentant to the Last. AN ENGLISH ROMANCE.

ii§f 4$

BY PHENIX DURTVAQE.

CHAPTER IX.

TVBATH OF THE PLANTER.

As the wine was dashed in Stephen's face bis mother sprang up and threw her arms aboat her son's neck. 'Stephen, Stephen, never mind tbls! Let it pass for my sake!' she cried, clinging fast to him. 'Mr. Zotterland angrv at what you said, and forgot himself for an instant. Forgive the rash act: oh, forgive it •It served him right,' said the merchant, with a grin of satisfaction. 'Mr. Zotterland acted precisely as I should have acted had I been in bis place.'

Stephen did not reply, but took up a napkin and wiped the wine off his face. Fortunately there was not any servant present to witness this painful scene.

The West Indian's oountenance was purple with rage, and for some seconds he .was unable to speak. There he sat, glaring Across tbe table at tbe son of his hoetr-at the man whom be had selected to beoome his daughter's husband. 'It's all over, Porcheeter,' he at last obtarved, turning to tbe merchant. 'He shan't have my Bella nowj no, not if he goes down on his knees to ask for her. I've been insulted, groasly Insulted, and It's a good job for him'—glancing at Stephen—'that be was sorer off me, else he'd have bad tbe weight of my fist in bis face, instead of the few drops of wine.' And, so saying, he started up from his seat. 'Nonsense, nonsense, my dear friend!' Pembroke exclaimed, rising and laying his hand oo the arm of his Irate guest. 'Come, come be oool, I entreat! 8te-

fihen

will ask your pardon for his boughtless speech, ana, after that, all will be well again with us.' 'Nothing or tbe sort,' returned tbe planter, very loudly, and trying to shake off the band on his sleeve, 'were your son to ask my pardon a thousand times over, I shoula not forgive him. There 1' and with tb*t Zotterland sat down again, thrust both his hands into his pockets, and looked defiantly at Stephen, into whose ears tbe mother was whispering some soothing words. 'Leavetbe room, my.dear boy!'she said, imploringly. 'Come—come with mer she added, drawing him from the table toward the room-door. 'Oh! what) you're sneaking off, are your' the planter cried out, addressing Stephen, and laughing tauntingly. 1 despise a cowardly fellow, and 'Coward repeated the young man, suddenlv turning round, and raising a clenched hand in the air. 'Stephen—dear Stephen,' interposed his mother. "Pon my honor!' Mr. Porchester cried, 'my son's behavior is absolutely disgraceful, and I am pained at It beyond expression. But he will make amends for his warmth of temper he will ask your pardon.' •You said as much a minute ago, and I told ye I wouldn't hare it,' the planter snarled most unpleasantly. 'But your fine sprig will be tbe loser, see if he won't. I won't put my foot over this threshold again as long aa I live,' he continued.

Aa tbe last words were uttered, Stephen and his mother passed out of the apartment together.

With disappointment and anger, the merchant felt that his proposed daugh-ter-in-law and her gold were fading •way from him. At oue moment he felt Inclined to throw himself at the feet of hia guest, and humbly beseech him to sutler the recollection of what had just happened to pass at onoe and forever out of his memory, and in the next he waa ready to say to him, 'You area purse-proud, vulgar man. and in my aecret soul I hate and despise you.'

But the merchant was too prudent to follow either of theee promptings. There he sat, silently listening, or appearing to listen, while Zotterland went on spluttering and swearing. At length the planter, felrly exhausted, leaned back in bis chair and panted for breath. •I will go home,' be said presently, and

^Pembroke also rose and aooompanied his departing guest Into the hall, when the latter beat a hasty retreat.

The merchant heaved a heavy sigh, and straightway went up to his chamber. the entrance of which he secured against all intruders. He had hated the Cbeetem at* first because he peroelved that they were richer than himself, ana not half so proud and now he bated them, still more intensely than before, the reason that he baa become indebted to them, and beoanse they were a great degree a mystery to Elm—«

Oery he wanted to solve at almost price. fe nearly Jumped for joy when Zotterland brought him that tale about the retired convict, He supposed he had "s,, *''43$

obtained a sort of whip wtth^ jrhieb he oould scourge his nnoffendtaanaighbom—the people Irish wboii be knew his own son had entered Into Mindly lnterooune—and that wwgltkm had filled him with cruel Hriotoug. Brtaow the pillar on which he haatboufht to depend had given way and crumbled into the very dost. Zotterland would no longer interest himself in exposing the Cheaters' secret, and hts danghter Bells Waa no longer Stephen's proffered wife. :T'He would not live Urns indebted to these hateful people—nay. he couldn't!' beaaidto himself, inwardly.

Some one tapped at the room jfloor at this momentf bat the excited and passionate man heard not tbe sounds. •|tia I—Mary,' spoke a voice from behind the panels. 'Pray let me in, Pembroke, dear.'

But the merchant still paid no atten tion to the appeal, at which she moke ia a louder tone and then he peevishly told her to go away, as he did not wish to be disturbed. 'I have been to your father's chamber door, and he would not admit me, Stephen, said Mrs. Porchester. appearing before her son, who had not yet retired to rest. 'He would not admit you, mother?' repeated Stephen. 'That was strange, was it not?'

Mrs. Porcheeter replied that it waa 'exceedingly strange.' The young man started at this instant, snd bent bis head in a listening attitude. IHarkl* he cried. 'What do you heart' 'Hush! Footsteps on the stairs. The servants have all retired?' 'Yes, I believe so.' 'Lower the lamp, mother.'

She did so at once, and the place was almost in total darkness. Stephen now noiselessly unclosed tbe room-door, and crept out upon tbe landing, and after that he paused, and once more bent his ear.

Yes, he waa right, there waa some one on the stairs, deeeending them stealth! ly, step by step.

Stephen held his breath, until he heard the beuae-door quickly unfastened, opened, and then shut sharply. 'The light, mother: lose not a moment!' tne young mab said, as herejoined her. 'What is the matter?' Mrs. Porchester asked, in alarm. 'Are housebreakers—' 'No, no, mother nothing of the sort. Pray excuse me,* he added, as he snatched the lamp out of her trembling grasp.

Then, without another word, he left her, ana rushed off in the direction of his father's chamber, Which, on arriving at, he discovered to be empty. Stephen passed through into, the dressing-room thst likewise was vacant.

Back to his mother Stephen ffewat once. 'Dearest,' he began, with as calm a manner as heoouldcommand, 'do not, I entreat, alarm yourself.' ,,

What has happened My father has left the house.' Left the house I Merciful powers! at this hour! Wherefore?' shq, cried.

When did bego away •Just now.' •What is to be done, Stephen You will follow him Oh, I have a dread— a dread of I know not what!'

Her son had also a dread, but he did not say so. He bade her hope for tbe be«t, and then he left her, seised his hat from a peg in the hall, and hurried out of the house.

He looked round the square .as far as he oould see in tbe .gaslight, but not a soul was there visible. It was a cold, murky night, andthe snow was still on the ground. Stephen was at a loss what road to pursue. Alter a moment's reflection he went back to his mother, and told her how useless it would be to attempt to follow his father,. since he wis In total ignorance regarding the direction taken ny him

Mrs. Porchester wrung her hands, and replied not. '1 will see Mr. Chtjrtsr, mother he will doubtless know how to advise me.'

And, so saying, Stephen quickly made his way to the house portal of his friend, and raised its knooker.

A servant-man at onee opened the door. 'Mr. Cheater—«an I see him for a few seconds Stephen demanded, scarcely knowing what he said, so excited waa be at tbe time. 'My master Is out, sir walking round tbe square a little, before he retires to rest,' the domestic replied. 'Out in the square !r repeated the young man. 'Are you auie of that 'Quite, air. The master said he thought be should take a doaen rounds before he came in again

Thanks. 1 want to see him most particularly. Will you oblige me by standing outside your door wnlle I run round the square, so that If your master

Easses

in the meantime you may stop im.and tell htm 1 am seeking him f' Stephen said, in a confused manner.

Tne man replied that he would do as the gentleman wished. Whereupon Stephen started of in quest of his friend. Bat he returned without overtaking him, and found Mr. Chester's servant standing where be had lelt him, and alone. 'You have not seen my msster, sir the man asked of Stephen. .. •No.*'. •Nor have I, sir.' 'That is strange,' returned Stephen. •Are you certain Mr. Cheater said be would walk round the square?' 'Yes, sir quite certain.*

{ength

1

'But he may have changed his mind 'He may have done, air, but I hardly think It likely»

After meditating for a few minutes. Stephen bade the man good-night, and re-entered his own abode. •Any news of your tether, dear Inquired Mrs. Porcheeter, as her son entered her presence.

r1.

'None, mother.' •Did you see Mr. Chester •No, mother.' 'Oh. my son, whither is your father goner 'Be patient, dearest, and trust in Heaven.' ...

CHAPTER X.

SIR. rOBCRXSTKR IS BAULKED IS AS KYIL

rcRPOs*.

We most now return to the merchant. He sat brooding In his chamber, alone, with dark thoughts in his breast. He felt that his son would never cow wed Bella. Zotterland, and that 1m himself could never hope to see returned the money be had received from tbe Cheaters and Mr. Porchester whispered to himself that ,be could not. would not, live to be thus deeply Indebted to the people be so despised.

Tbe longer Pembroke Indulged In theee thoughts, the more resolved 1M felt to carry out the desperate Intentions he had formed. He rose from his seat, in which be had been crouching, ami, drawing aside tbe window-blind, looked out into the night. •Gloomy enough? he muttered to himself. 'Just the night tor such a deed!' he added, totting the blind drop, and crossing the room.

His finger* were on the door-handle now, ana hia bead was bowed upon his breast, Preeeatlv be looked up, drew

TEREE HAUTE SA'L'URDAY EVENING MAIL.-

the door wide, and peeved out In the narrow corridor.. -f All waa silent.

He-stepped forth, and groped hia way through the darkness. Slowly and cautiously ha depended the stairs. Hia heart was beating so violently be could hear lta every throb and his limbs so shook beneath him that, more than onoe, he thought be must fall headlong down Una whole flight of steps. At length he readied the ball portal, and, in theTollowing instant, be was in tbe square.

Here he paused for a brief seeond or two, and asked himself In which direct tion be should turn .hia steps. He

(lanced tills way, tben that, and at darted off as fast as he oould go, anaaa if the foul fiend had possession of him. He waa soon out of the square and walking rapidly toward the Strand.

At length ne reached Waterloo bridge, where he was stopped by the toll-keep-er. The merchant here fumbled in hia pockets, in a confused way, and at last produced a shilling, which he threw down with an imbecile laugh. 'Don't bother me with anychsnge!' he said, wildly rushing away.

When he had gained the middle of the bridge, be checked his steps, and looked around him on all aides.

The night wss intensely dark, and a thick mist rising from the river enveloped and rendered indistinct every surrounding object. Pembroke staggered like a drunken man. A freezing wind swept psst him, but he felt it not, for his head seemed filled with fire. He had drunk rather freely at dinner that evening, and the wine and the excitement together bad doubtless overcome bis senses in some measure. He appeared to have no will of bis own—to be obeying some irresistible power in fact, he was going mad as fast as he could.

He looked over the side of the bridge, but tbe dense vapor rendered the water beneath invisible.

Hotter and hotter grew his brain and now he pushed off his hat, and suffered the chilly air to fan his temples, snd toss about his locks of dark hair. All his pulses throbbed with accelerated motion, and his whole frame shook like a reed in a storm.

Presently he made a spring—he was an agile man—and in the following moment he would have been on tbe parapet of the bridge, 'had not a powerful hand laid itself upon him, ana forcibly dragged him back.

Then there ensued a struggle between the merobant and the man who had just snatchsd him from death.

Balked in bis purpose, Porchester now became frantic, and the strength be put forth was prodigious. But he had encountered one who was evidently more than his equal in physical power, and tbe merchant was soon laid on the broad of bis back, and held pinioned to the ground. 'Let me go, you villain!' cried tbe prostrate one, speaking for the first time. 'Letyou go! Not if I can help it!' was the other's reply. 'Who spoke? I have heard your voice before,' Porchester returned, in startled accents. 'Who are you 'Your friend—that is. provided you will permit me to be such to you.' •Friend! I want none. Take your band from my collar, and suffer me to regain my feet once more,' the merchant spoke, doggedly. 'There rejoined the stranger, releasing his hold of the other.

At that, Porchester lifted himself up. and, after a moment's pause, Reeled backward, and leant his back against the side of the bridge, and groaned aloud.

You are ill,' observed his companion, still keeping close to the merchant's side. •Go about your business, meddler. I want you not.' 'I have as much right to be here as you have, and shall not stir at your bidcling. I wish to see you in a better state of mind before I quit your side. I can perceive that you are atill contemplating committing

Before the speaker oould utter a word more, Pojcbester had plunged through the darkness, and disappeared. There was a splash in tbe flood beneath, and afterward a deathly silence.

For one short instant the man on the bridge seemed robbed of the power to stir either bis tongue or bis limbs. But, speedily recovering himself, he shouted out, 'A man over the bridge! a man drowning!' and made his way, he knew not how, to the water's edge, where he found two men engaged in hauling in a boat.

In an incredibly short space of time tbe boat was again afloat, and a torch was flashing to and fro through the yellow mist. 'I can swim like a fish, ana the gen tleman's a friend of mine,' Mr. Chester (for it was be) said, hurriedly addressing themes. 'Give me a seat with you, and I'll save him.'

But the men did not heed him. 'A hundred pounds for a seat In your boat,' added Mr. Chester, at the same moment springing Into it.

Tbe vessel was now pushed off from the shore, and the torch wss flashing about. Strange to relate, close upon tbe bosom of tbe river tbe mist did not appear half so dense as higher up in the air. The dark current was plainly visible under tbe red glare of tbe light, which one of tbe men held first high and then low.

Plash, plash, felVtbe oars, while every eye and ear strained itself to listen and to watch.

Presently a cry, unearthly In- its sound, rang out in the night air. There, there!' exclaimed Mr. Chester, pointing to something floating on the surface of the tide one instant, to disappear 1 the next. 'Great Heaven, proserve him!' continued tbe speaker, throwing off bis coat and boots. •What would you do, air?' demanded one of tbe men.

Mr. Chester made no answer, but at onoe leaped overboard, and struck out for tbe spot where the form of the drowning man had sunk, probably to rise no more.

Tbe men In tbe boat watched the swimmer with intense Interest and anxiety, and each held himself In readiness to lend his best assistance tbe moment that It might be required of him.

Again arose tbe merchant's struggling form, but this time, ere it eoold sink, ft was caught and upheld by the hand of Mr. Cheater. 'Here, here? ahouted tbe gentleman to those in the craft. •Ay, ay all right I* was the anawer.

And, lb leas than five minutes, Mr. Chester and hia charge were perfectly safe and being rowed swiftly toward the "h°W' CHAPTER XL uwmuwmTAirr TOTMU

S*.'

A full hour elapeed before Pembroke Porcheeter opened hia eyee to senadUllty. Hia flratrianeawo^d have fallen upon hia modi detested neighbor, had not that person juat atolan away and seated himself tn a corner, out of the range of tbe other's sight.

The merchant pushed the wet hair off his temples and gased around. He waa wrapped In blankets, with hot bricks, at hia feet.

•Where am Land what haa happened to me?' he finally aaked, lh a oontaaed manner.

At this, Mr. Cheater algnlficantly touched the shoulder of a man near him. Porchester repeated the queetkm. 'You met with an scddent, and fell into the river,' replied the man whoee shoulder had jun received the touch of Mr. Cbeeter*s warning finger.

Pembroke's face crimsoned all over, and his band dropped upon his breast. The recollection of the wicked act he had, ahoitly before, attempted, had came into bis mind, and, for an instant, tie felt overwhelmed with horror and contrition. 'You were nearly gone, sir,' added the man.

The merchant shuddered. He bad been at tbe very gates of death, but Heaven had not permitted him to pass through those gates. He felt very weak and ill, and he almoet wished that he had been left to hia late. His. worldly affairs had taken a crooked turn, he remembered, agl he did not care to live now. His heart had not an atom of grateful feeling within It it was so full of prejudice and rancor that there was but little room within it for and other feeiing. 'But you are all right now, sir,'tbe speaker said, in continuation. 'How do you feel, air—pretty comfortable?' 'No,' was the gloomy and thankless reply. 'Cannot I go away from this place?' 'You desire to be taken home, sir?' •No, not home,' stammered the merobant. 'I—I—pshaw! It Is no business of yours where I want to go,' he added, impatiently. 'Let me have a conveyance, and my clothes. I will repay you for your services in my behalf, never fear.'

Here Mr. Chester gave the men a look of meaning, .and they rose and left the room. 'Mr. Porchester!' ssid the gentleman, emerging from the corner he had been occupying, and making himself visible to tbe other. 'Great Heaven!' exclaimed Pembroke, recognizing tbe man against whom he entertained so much bitter hatred. 'What are you doing here?' he continued in scarcely audible accents.

Mr. Chestar advanced and took a seat. 'How did you ever contrive tostsrtup in my path?' cried tbe merchant, with a shiver. 'How came you here? I would much rather see Satan himself than you, %lr?' 'Mr. Porchester,' commenced tbe other, with a deep sigh, 'what have I ever done to offend you—to make my face so hateful in your sight?' 'What are you? Have you forgotten?' returned the merchant, with marked emphasis. •I am your friend—your sincere friend, sir!' ru•My friend—youf* •Yes!' •I must, indeed, want a friend, when I choose a returned convict to be one!'was the cruel rejoiner. 'Hush!' exclaimed Mr. Chester springing from oif his chair,1 and looking around. •You see, I know you,'said Pembroke. •Nay, Mr. Porchester you do

not

know

me.' 'What do you mean? Since I must speak the truth to you, I must tell you tnst I think I know a great deal more about you than you would like me to know.'

Mr. Chester shook his head sorrowfully. then turned aside, and passed his hand aeross his eyes. 'But wherefore this masquerade?' continued Pembroke, glancing at the rough garments in which the other was attired. *1 am surrounded by nothing but mystery, it seems. Explain!'

Mr. Chester hesitated, and looked up, greatly confused, and for some few seconds he appeared undecided as to how he ought to reply. At length he apoke. •Mr. Porchester,' be said, 'allow me to accompany you as far as the doorstep of your home, and on our way thither I will explain everything. I cannot enter into any explanation respecting myself where we are now, or 'You can tell me wherefore you wear that disguise, I suppose?' 'Yes, can do that much. In the first

Eave

lace, I wear no disguise. These clothes been assumed oy me simply because I could not remain in my own wet ones.' 'Your own wet ones?' •Yes. You seem perplexed.' •I am perplexed 'Well, you force the acknowledgment from me, mind! I, as well as yourself, have been in the river.' 'You have been in the river?' repeated Mr, Porchester. •Yes. I deemed a human life worth the trouble of saving, aqd I aaved yours,' Mr. Chester answered, in an unsteady voice. 'You saved my life?' broke forth the merchant, 'You preserved, then, that on which I place no value and I give you no thanks for tbe act. You area meddler, sir,' he continued, after a brief pause, and greatly excited—'a misciev* ous meddler, andl hate you!' 'Mr. Porchester!' •Yes, I hate you!' pursued the merchant, delivering each word separately, and with as much bitterness as he could.

The other clasped his hand together tightly and made no answer. Twice he essayed to speak, and each time that be did so a sense of suffocation stopped hia speech.

The merchant rose to his feet now and with much difficulty reached a chair. •Where are my clothes?' he muttered, looking around. 'Ob, I forgot!' be added replying to his own question. 'I thought I said I wanted a conveyance,' he went on, addressing only himself. 'I have arranged that and certain other matters as well otherwise you would not be allowed to leave this place a free man,' Mr. Chester observed, somewhat stiffly. 'I knew you would not like being dragged up before a magistrate for this affair, and so I bribed tbe boatmen toboldtbeir tongaea, and to say that you had walked into the river by accident. There are dry garments for you put them on at once,' the gentleman went on, pointing toeome rough looking articles of male attire hanging over tbe back of a chair.

Porchester made his toilet as quickly as ho oould, and presently be had stepped Into awaiting cab. Aa he took bis •eat, Mr. Chester Jumped in, banged to the door, and the vehicle started off at a raoid rate. '"What!' cried the merchant. 'You have forced your presence on me whether I would or notr •Yea I have aomethlng to sav to you— something of Importance and I cannot permit the present opportunity of speaking to yon to escape me,' Mr. Cheater replied, in a decisive manner. 'You have a latch-key. Ihopa,' teiadded^th sodden tbonghtfolness. "Then will not ha any necessity to arouse any of your household?* 'I ham a latoh-ke?,' was the curtra-

Very good.' 'Yon are wondroualy officious, Mr. Cheater,' snarled tbe merchant. 'You will oblige me by being less ao.' 'You area proud man/ remarked the other, in calm, yet sad tones 'but your pride la not of tbedght ear|.f

•Indeed! Perhape the returned convict can teach me aMttefr.' 'Mr. Pbrchester, were I other than the man I am I should strike you to my feet for^thua reminding ma of the ataln that rests upon my name. You have, it seems, a defective memonr.' 'A defective memory?' I do not understand you,' the merchant anawered, in weak amenta. 'I do not feel well pray talk tome no further.' And the speaker shrank back-Into one corner of the cab, and shlversd with a vague dread. 'Nay, I muat aaytey aay, Mr. Porchester, and you must listen to me with all the patience you can command. You had a brother?'

Here the merchant moved uneasily, and drew hia breath with an effort. 'His name waa John,* pursued Mr. Chester slowly and distinctly. 'Twentynine years ago yott and he were clerks in a certain bank in Lombard street. Do you remember the time?' 'What ia that to you? I am not bound to tell you what.I remember,.or what I have forgotten.' 'I do not think yon com have forgotten the facts to which I allude. John was your only brother—your only living relative,' Mr. Cheeter said In a voice which strong emotion made hoarse. 'You can not possibly have forgotten him, and how he ascrifioed for yonr sake his spotlees character and his precious liberty.'

Hie man in tbe corner of the cab wss shaking like an aspen leaf, and stifled a moan. 'Your brother John accused himself of a deed which he never committed—never even contemplated—and he was tried. Are you following me?' the other here broke off to inquire.

Still not a word in answer. 'Well, John Poroheeter, the self accused, wss sentenced to a banishment of fourteen years. But are you listening?'

Why do you tell me this?' gasped the merchant. 'I am only reminding you of the past.' 'It was unneceaaaiy to do ao.' •On tbe contrary, it was highly necessary to refresh you memory concerning certain bygone matters, before I inform you of circumstances whereof you have no knowledge—no suspioion, even. I cannot imagine how you learned my secret that I am a returned convict, nor do I care to inquire. I freely admit tbe feet and, what is still more, I am not ashsmed to admit it. You feel astonished that I should know so much about your private fiamlly affairs, eh? I suppose tbe world has long oeaaed to reoollect that you had a brother transported to Botany Bay, and hence ycur uncharitableneHS toward me. Had you been aware that I had been your brother'a comrade for years and years past, probably you might have treated me with some little consideration at all events, you would have avoided recalling to my mind tbe one blotted page of my life. I will not aay that you nave Inflioted any particular pain on me by your reproach, for I own a clear conscience, and fear not the tonge of any man.' 'Have you finished?' the merchant demanded. 'Not yet, Mr. Porcheater I have a few more words to say, and tben I shall have done. The crime of whioh John accused himself was committed by, Well, I need not mention his name, eh?'

The merchant muttered some indistinot syllables snd Mr. Chester went on. •When yonr brother reached that land so far across the sea, he was received by one who never deserted him. The banker whom John and Pembroke Porchester had served as clerks, had made to the first mentioned man certain promises, which promises the worthy ola gentlemen dla not fell to keep, John was assigned to the friend whom Mr. Dorrlmond bad intereeted in the poor convict's cause, money was advanced to him, his. tlcket-of-leave soon procured, and from that moment success took him by the hand, and led bim on to prosperity and in process of time John grew to be rich—rich aa a nabob. And he would have been, happy had he not heard tidings from bome.from the old country he loved so well. But Pembroke Porchester was cruelly ungrateful, and wholly Ignored the existence of bis brother, who had made so grate a sacrifice tor bim.' •How you torture me!' cried the merchant. 'Say no more—say no more!' •Will you not ask whether your brother be living or dead?' persevered the other. •No, no!' was the positive rejoinder. •I thought you would have recognized him ere this In me, Pembroke.' 'What!' exclaimed the merchant, starting forward in affright. 'What! are you my brother John?' 'I am the returned convict, Pembroke.'

In the following Instant Mr. Porchester slid off his seat, and lay huddlied in an insensible heap at the bottom of the cab.

Picture to yourself, reader, the astonishment and terror or Stephen and his mother when tbey saw Pembroke In a strange garb, all pale and unconscious, borne Into the house of which he was the master, and attended by their next neighbor.

Stephen did not wait to ask any questions, but at once sped off in quest of a doctor.

It was broad daylight when the merchant recovered hlmeelf. He looked around bim with a scared expreesion, tben uttered a stifled cry and covered bis face wltb his hands. He remembered all that bad transpired within the last few hours, and the haughty pride in bis breast swelled higher and higher until his heart felt ready to burst itself in twain.

His brother—that noble-souled manspoke to Pembroke, but received no anawer from him. Next Mary addreaaed her husband, and with tbe same result. It was obstinacy-proud necked obstinacy—that prevented the merchant from replying. He would not use his tongue while he could, but lay there sullen and Implacable ss ever.

Mrs. Porchester and Stephen, who bad both been made acquainted with tbe history of Mr. Chester (we will still call him by that name), were longing to see tbe brothers on terms uf unity and love with each other. •Pembroke,' said his wife, in gentle aocents, 'I want to see you clasp your brother John's hands.'

No answer. 'Brother,' spoke Mr. Cheater.'I have been a wanderer from my native land for along count of years, and am come bock to It with a white head, and with a hope in my aoul that I might and my days by the side of one whom I should think refuses no further proof of my affection for him than that which I gave in tbe days long past/

Silenoe, aa before. •Our children love aaoh other, Pembroke let their united voloeeeoften your proud heart, and make It heat kindly toward then,' tbe speaker continued, with thick utterance. •Come, give ma yotot hand 1* •No, no I curse you!' bunt forth tbe other. vkMenti v.

Ami, MB theee words had died on the llpa of the merchant, a torrent of Mood gushed feom hte mouth and his nostrils, Sad he lay beck on hia pillow, an expiring man. Tbe doctor was sgaln summqne^ bt# Ip oeulty offv no assistance

ha could but stand by with tbe others^ sud wateh the spirit struggling to escape from its prison bouse of elay.

Twelve months have elapaed since the death of Pembroke Porchester snd the aeeneto which we how introduce our reader is one of beauty and luxury. In the land of feir Italy, in a villa on the bonks of abroad river, live, sequeetered from the world, tour happy beingsStephen and bis young bride snd Mary, now wife of John Porchester—of that man whom generous soul hssever led him on to the performance of noble deeds, through which he reached a great joy at last. mm. $ f-f &

THE BOSS QBA&SHOPPER.

Stockton, CaL, Independent. The most monstrous grasshopper we have ever seen ia on exhibition at the office of F. M. Weet, county treasurer. It la preserved in alcohol, and was captured eome time ago near Oopperopolls. It is nearly six Inches long, ana Its body is an inch and a quarter in depth, whileIts head ia as big as a man's thumb. Tbe wings, when spread, must havo measured ten inches from tip to tip. The legs are as large aa a lead penoll at the body, and about four or five inches long. The enormous body is quite translucent, and its ribs can Be distinctly seen. An army of that species would eat up a quarter seotion of wheat as slick as a whistle in about Aye minutes.

PUBUG squares area great blessing to the community. We can say tbe same of Dr. Boll's Baby Syrup it is the best remedy for the cure of all diseases Babyhood has to enoounter. Price only 25cents.

Clifford's Febrifuge.

In the cure of Fever and Ague this remedy displays extraordinary powers. Properly used, no case can resist it, and other diseases of an intermittent character, including that moat distressing disease,

Feriodtcal Neuralgia,

have been

found to yield, with equal certainty, to its influence. It eradicates all malaria from the system, gives tone and vigor tothe whole body, and prevents disease from becommlng seated. Try CLIFFORD'S FEBRIFUGE it Is sure, safe and speedy in its aotion. You will never regret buying tbe first bottle, and you will have discovered a friend you cannot afford to lose. J.C.RICHARDSON,

Prop'r, St. Louis.

For sale by all druggists. Augl7 4w

Fever and Ague Cared far 00 Ceuts Dr. Swayne's Fever and Ague Pills (without calomel and quinine), a quiok and sure cure in every case for sgue and fever, intermittent and remittent fevers, and all diseases having their origin in Malaria. Tbey are a great tonic and preventive as well as cure of all complaints peouliar to malarious, msrshy and miasmatic districts. Tbey act on the liver, and brace up the syatem to a vigorous, healthy condition. Notwithstanding these pills are sold for one-half tbe price that other ague cures are sold for, vet we will warrant them as effectual in all cases as any pills or mixture, let the price or compound be what tbey may and being entirely free from all minerals, their use leaves no bad effects, as is tbe case with many other remedies. Sent by mall to any address, on receipt of price (in currency or postage stamps), 50 oents a box, three boxes 91.23, six boxes $2 50. Addrees letters, Dr. Swayne & Son, 330 N. Sixth St., Pbilad'a. tf

ITCHING PILE*.—The symptoms are moisture, like perspiration, Intenae itching, increased by scratching, very distressing, particularly at night, as if pin worms were crawling in aud about tbe rectum, the private parts are sometimes affected if allowed to continue, very serious results may follow. DR. SWAYNE'S ALL HEALING OINTMENT ia a pleasant sure cure.

HOME CURES.—We were great sufferers from Itching Piles, the symptoms were as above described, tbe use of Swayne's Ointment in a short time made a perfect cure.

J. W.CHRIST, Boot and Shoe House, 344 N. Seoond St. T. C. WEYMAN, Hatter, 8 S. Eighth St., Philadelphia.

Reader, If you are suffering from thla distressing Complaint, or Tetter, Itch, Scald Head, Ring Worm, Barber's Itcb, any Crusty, Scaly, Skin Eruption, use Swayne'a Ointment and be cured. Sent by mall to any address on reoelpt of

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rice (in currency orpoatage stamps)* cents a box, three boxes 11.22. Address letters, Dr. Swayne A Son, 330 N. Sixth street, Philadelphia. No charge for advice. Sold by leading druggiats, .tf

If BaMneaa or a Beflclsaej of Hslr Exists, or if the hair is gray, dry or harsb, tbo natural youthful color can be restored by using "London Hair Color Restorer," the most delightful article ever Introduced to the American people for increasing its growth, restoring its natural color, and at tbe same time a lovely balr dresser and beautlfler. It is totally different from all others: not sticky or gummy, and free from all impure ingredients that render many otber articles obnoxious in feet It Is exquisitely perfumed, and so cleanly and elegantly prepared as to make It a lasting hair dressing and toilet luxury. 3. A. TYNES, A PROMINENT CITIZEN, Wilson, N. C.. writes: Some ten years ago my wifo'a hair commenced falling, and got very tbin and turned gray but after uaing "London Hair Color Restorer" the scalp became healthy, tbe hair stopped falling, tbe color was restored, and is now growing beaatifully.

Ask your druggist for London Hair Color Restorer. Price, 75 oents a bottle. Six bottles, |4. Main Depot for tbo U.

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$:

ft

IS-

IS it

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S.,

880 North Slxtb St., Pbilad'a. tf

CLIFFORD'S

FEBRIFUGE

Alii

Siok Headaohe PmHMh Csretf by SmmUMS MS.

CARTERS

Thcjralse relic DMtws Itoai Djrsp«

A psrtvt SMMtff I

la the Monife, Coated ttan*. Ma in Ui« suSr«e. Tbey m»Ut* tlie Bawds and prmat Constipation and nhw. The small­

est aad castMt to lain. Onlr one pill a 4OM. 40 la a rial. Parolr VefUbls. PifcoSosnts. Itltf by all Dracpsti.

CARTER MEDICINE CO., Projtn,Erie, Pa. Flw Vlala by a»all tor one dollar.