St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 19, Number 27, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 20 January 1894 — Page 2

AT TAB MTB HEBELF. The Story of a Woman’s Atonement, by Charlotte M. Braeme. CHAPTER XXXll—Continued. A pleased light broke over his face. 1 understand perfectly, darling I aPP'ecAate your delicate consideration others. . It shall be just as you say . , “ a PP u iSBB is purchased by another s pain. You ament ine, and reject s .me one else—is it so?” ’ aos,” she said, in a low voice. Wait at least three or four months before anything is said ab n.t it.” “I will do anything on earth you wish, Loonie. See, I must have some visible sign, known only to myself, that you are mine. I have brought this ring—will you wear it for me? ft was my mother's. When she was dyin" I she took it from her finger, and gave it 1 to me. Will you wear it for my sake. '' and for hers?” She held out her hand to him, and he wondered that it should be so cold, .that it should tremble; he placed the ring upon it, and then held it to his lips. “Some day—l pray Heaven not far from now—l shall place another ring 1 ©n this deal- hand.” He wondered again that she turned from him with what seemed a shudder. ' Her eyes lingered on that ring; to her j excited fancy it would not have seemed ' strange if it had suddenly changed into a living serpent, and had turned । round hissing to sting her. It had belonged to the “mother” whose son she had defrauded, whom she had robbed of his birthright. She could never look at it without keen pain. “Leonie,” said Captain Flemyng, “al- > though our engagement is to remain a profound secret as yet, you will let me ; come over to see you often—you will ; write to me—you will not be cruel, and ! keep me at a cold distance, as though I i were a stranger. ” “No, I will not do that,” sho answered. “And after a few days, when the novelty of being engaged has worn off, i you will bo kinder to me than you are j now? You will, perhaps, then lay your ■ hands in mine, and say, ‘I love you, Paul, and will be your wife?’ You have ; only written the words, Leonie; you i have nit said them.” ' < “I will say them now.” Sho clasped i her white hands together and laid them i in his. "I love you, Paul, and I will bo i your wife.” i But there was something of sadness i in her voice, something ho could not understand in the expression of her । ; downcast face. He said to himself that it was but girlish coyness she 1 would feel more at ease with him in ; time. i CHAPTER XXXIII. 1 “Has Captain Flemyng gone without 1 coming in to see us!” said Miss Dacre. 1 “How strange!” j She looked so disappointed that for । the first time it occurred to Leonie , that Ethel loved the man she had just promise to marry. I s “How was it?” repeated Lady Fan- j t shawe. “Captain Flemyng always ] seems to enjoy an hour with us.” f “I do not know; he will come over ] again to-morrow. He inquired very I . kindly after you.” * . in the words or the voice i quiringly at her friend. Leonie’s face . flushed under that quiet, calm scrutiny. “Why do you look at me so strange- j ly?” she cried, impatiently. “I object i to being looked at as though my ; thoughts lay bare, and every one could ; read them. I cannot help Captain j Flemyng's abrupt departure; he pro- : fessed himself quite unable to remain, ' bo as a matter of course I allowed him to go.” She did not tell them that he had gone with tears in his eyes—tears of earnest, heartfelt happiness; and that he had told her he could not talk “com- ; monplaces” to other people after his in- j ierview with her. Lady Fanshawe raised her eyes in ' mild rebuke. “My dear Lady Charnleigh, if it were possible to imagine one as charming as yourself could be pettish, I should say you were inclined to be so.” Leonie hastened to Ethel’s side. “Will vou forgive me? I spoke with ut thinking. Have patience with me, Ethel —I am not very happy just now. ” “Will you not trust me and tell me i why?” said Miss Dacre. “ [ do not know why. I am out of i spirits—inclined to be cross, not only I with every one else, but with myself j also.” “Sir Bertram Gordon,” announced : the footman, who had just received a ' parting vale from Capt. Flemyng, and i ■ who, with a grim sense of humor, smiled at the situation. For one moment Leonie was inclined < to give way. She had not expected j i him so scon, looking as happy and ; bright as the morning itself, utterly , ; unaonscious of the doom that hung ■ ; over him. i “I have been counting the hours,” he ' said in a low voice to Leonie, “and I . , MHfeMiplly thought to-day would never I Tight with the untold gladness of his hea> t that Lady Fanshawe bethought herself of something that required attention in the house- ; keeper's room. Sir Bertram did not I even hear the apology she made —he had no eyes or ears save for the lady of I his love. Miss Dacre took up a book I and wandered away into the cool, pleasant fernery. “Sir Bertram looks as though he did j not want me,” she thought with a smile. i The fernery was very pleasant and ; the ferns loo&ed cool and refreshing; ; the waters fell with a soft ripple, the । air was laden with sweet subtle odors. Miss Dacre sat down with her book, but she turned no page in it. A sudden chill had come over her. Why should Lady Charnleigh look and speak bo strangely? Could it be possible that she cared for Paul Flemyng? “It cannot be possible,” she said to I herself. “If there be any truth in looks and actions, she loves Bertram ; Gordon. ” To the plash of the falling waters sho wove sweet, bright fancies of her own—of the day when this hero, this ; yr in e among men, would seek her with loving words, and woo her to be his—bright dainty fancies of a life that would be spent in ministering to him. in looking up to him as the flowers look up to the sun. Would it ever be so? fene had loved him so long, so faith-

fuTy, that it seemed to her her love must meet with some return—that the : very force of her own affection must i win something from him. On th 3 night of the ball he had held her hand I in his, and had spoken so kindly to her that the girl's heart had overflowed I with delight. The music of that fallI ing water, the breath of that warm, I sweet wind, helped to fill her mind : with fancies melodious and sweet as themselves. “Leonie,” repeated Sir Bertram, “I thought to-day would never come. I ; have counted the minutes and the : hours, yet I have had hope. You have ' not been trifling with me?” | She stood before him, her colorless face drooping- from his sight, her hands ■ trembling in his strong grasp. i “I want your answer,” he said, bending his handsome Saxon head over the white hands and kissing them. “I asked you to be my wife, and you told i me to come to-day for the reply.” “Let us go out,” she said, with a ' strange stifled gasp; “I cannot speak— I cannot breathe here. ” A sense of horrible pain had almost mastered her. How was she to tell him they must part when she loved him so dearly that she would have given her life for him? How could she inflict this anguish upon him when she knew that his life was wrapped up in hers? Silently she passed through the long > open window, over the green lawn, j where great clusters of scarlet verbena I shone in the sunshine, past the great i sheaves of white lilies and the fragrant ' roses, past the tall chestnuts, until she came to the grove of blossoming limes. ; Their tall branches met overhead and I formed a deep shade. The sunshine came through the dense green foliage with a mellowed light such as is seen in the dim cathedral aisles. The turf i was thick and velvety; the bunks were i covered with wild thyme; the whole ! place was lovely as a fairb s' glade. A ' fal’en tree, over which scarlet creepers had grown, lay half across the path, and on it Leonie sat down, raising her beautiful face to the rippling foliage : above her head, then suddenly hiding it in her hands. She had no right oven to look at the smiling summer heavens — she who had stolen an inheritance, and was about to barter her love for it. “I could not breathe in those warm rooms,” she said. “How quiet and ' beautiful it is here. ” “Leonie,” said Sir Bertram, carp- ‘ estly, “1 am sure that you are no co- j quette; and you cannot help having ; many lovers- all fair women are so much admired. You are no flirt you would not lead a man on by kind words ■ and kind smiles until h's heart lay un- j der your feet,and then trample upon it. ” i “No, I would not do that,” sho { answered, with white set lips. “And yet, darling, do you know that lam growing frightened? I fancied your little probation was bat to try me. I have never looked at it seriously. 1 believe I that when I came to you to-day y< u would be all smiles, all sweetness, all gladness. Yet, Leonie, your face is turned from me you have no word for me. What dees' it mean? Remember, darling, though I ask the question I do not doubt you.” His generous trust, his devoted love, ! smote her as no pain could have done. She had to take this nobl s heart in her hands and break it; no wonder that her strength failed her, and that, with a long, shuddering sigh, she turned away, burying her face in her hands. The next moment he was kneel ng by her side, his noble face full of deepest Leonie, what is lUv maLiur. \\~luit has changed yon 9 ; t fiferly? My darling, where have all yoi r bright! esq I all your gay spirits gone? Let me look ! at that dear face.” He raised it in hi- hands, and < ried ; out in surprise, when he saw- it. “Where is your color? Your lips are j white as these wild strawberry bio - । som-. Years, sorrow, and pain have ; parsed over you—what is it, Leonie? i Have no sea me all.” “I hate to inflict pain,” sho said hoar ely, “and I know that I mi st pain ! you. ” ’ j “Why, my da-ling? Idon >t see the need.” Her courage and self-command broke down all at cn e. “I can not marry you, Bertram—l can never be your wife, and it hurts me to tell you so. ” His face grew very white, and aj stern, angry light came into his ey< s. I “Repeat those words, Leonie! My i senses must surely have played me false notjou!” "I can never bo your wife, Bertram: do not bo angry with me. If you turn from me in anger I shall die.” “You can never marry me, Leonie! i Am I dreaming, or are you? Do you know that you had almost given your ! promise? Do you know, although you have not said' the word yet, that you pledged yourself over and over again with the pledges which a true and loyal ■ woman considers as sacred and as binding as an oath?” “I know,” she said, raising her white, despairing face to his; “but I cannot marry vou—l cannot be your wife.” “Will you tell me why?” he asked, । and a gleam of hope came to him —it might only be some girlish fancy, । after all. “I cannot tell you that,” she repeat- ■ ed. with the same quiet despair. “Do you know what you are doing to i me, Leonie? You are killing- me! You ■ would be ton thousand times more I merciful if you staWL< a and let mo i die at once. Do you know that I cannot live without you? Heaven holy I me, 1 cannot. My love and my life are | so twined together that if one goes the j i other goes.” ! She made him /o answer, but sat as | | though her white face was turned to stone. “You are only trying me, Leonie—you cannot mean ij. You want to see । how dearly I love you. Oh, my love, | my love, it is a cruel jest!” “It is no jed,” said the girl, “it is sad, ; sober, earnest truth. ” “But, Leonie, you love me. lam not vain, but —darling, lam not blind you i love me. I have seen the light come over your face that has shone for no one but me. You have told me in a hundred different ways, without words, ! that you love me.” “Yes,” she repeated, slowly—“Heav- ! en pity me!—l love you.” “You do,” he cried. And before she I could speak he had c’asped her in his arms and kissed her trembling hp>. “You love me! O, Leonie, if that bo true, what shall paid us?”. Then she knew that in admitting the fact of her love she han made a terrib’e mistake —one that she knew i not how to remedy. “Tell me,” he cried again, ‘if yon i love me, Leonie, what in the wide : world can part us?”

। She looked at him. her lips trembled, । but from them came no word. CHAPTER XXXIV. “I must know the truth,” said Sir Bertram, in a clear firm voice. “You owe it to me. What am Ito think of you, when you own that you love, yet i efuse to marry me?” “You must think as you will,’ she replied, despairingly; “I can only repeat my words—that never, while the sun shines and the birds sing, can I be your wife.” “Did you know this when you lured mo on to love you —when you stole my heart from me* by the witchery of your beauty—when you let me speak to you of love, and did not chide me? Did you know this then?” No reply— but the beautiful face grew more ghastly in its pallor. He grasped her wrist, at.d held it as in a vise. “Answer ire,” he said—and his voice was not pleasant to hear —“did you know this then?” “No,” she replied, “I did not, Bertram.” “Oh, Leonie, be frank —my love deserves it. If there be any difficulty, tell it to me—l can perhaps remove it. Trust me—for I trust you. I have no secrets from you, my love. Who would be so loyal, so tri e to you, as I would be?” “I have nothing to tell you.” ~ - mured the white rigid lips, Soul that I can never marry you.” Hot anger flashed in his face. For a few moments he lost sight of his outraged love. ' Tell me one thing more, Lady Charnleigh. I have a right to ask for it the right of a num who has bt'en duped and deceived. You say that you cannot marry me. Fray may 1 ask are you going t > marry any one else?” 1 here was a silence for some minutes; the wind whispered amono- the blossoming limes; the harebells seemed to ring out faint, sweet, notes in the wind, then, clear and oven, her answer came: I know you will hat - me, Bertram— I^haye promised t» marry some one “I am answered,” he said, bitterly. I “You. Leonie, whom, only one short I horn- . im e, 1 look d upon as the very I flower of w-i manhood—vou whom I I thought more pure than a lily, loyal 1 and true as the anifels in heaven you I toil me d li!> lat'-ly that you love me, I but have pi-omis al to mar: v another?” ! Have i ity on me, B rtram! 1 have been sorely tried.” “There is no pity for vou.” he cried indien intly. “You are* false—false to mo. whom you have pretended to love ' y lake to him whom you have promised to marry. I appeal to heaven ! against you!’’ he continued. “You j ha\e done me the most cruel wrong ' that woman can do to man- vou have lured mo by false words, false looks. | \ou have deceiv* d me you have be- I frayed me. 1 denounce you for being as false and cruel as y<>u arc fair. O ■ merciful Heaven, keep me from los. I ing my rea-on! I fear I am going i mad!” lie flung himself on the turf with ' a terrible cry: a strong man. in his I agony he sobbed aloud, for the I anguish of his loss was full upon ; him. She sat quiet and motionless, ! until she could bear the sight of I that prostrate figure no longer. Then ' there came to her a good impulse h/ kneel down there by his side • him all the truth; poverty, pvlvutlon”^^ knowledge” Cr ‘ that tcriiUbnt pain. And Y-t. if sho romessod tTnlw 4 she would lose all. |TO BE COXTINVED. i Old-Time Ganics. It is curious to note how some of the ■ games of the early ages have been handed down to the present time. The ; game, for instance, known as “Odd and : Even.” was a favorite with the young Egyptian, and many of the little conn- ! tors that he used are sti;-l pres -rved in the Bri ’sh Museum. There is also ( the gave of draughts, which was played * n a chequered b ard in the ■ earliest times. The poor children were I Content with di a ightsmon and boxes of rough pieces of clay. But the richer ■ ones usually had b >ai>tifnlly carved ; iron-headed draughtsmen and b <xes. | The young Greeks, too, were well provided with toysand games for their amusement. The toys were chiefly dolls made of baked clay, the arms and ’ legs being j inted with string, and therefore movable. They had a favorite game called “Chytrinda,” which has i been preserved through many ages, and is now played by boys of "Puss in i the Corner.” In France the game is i called "Quartre Coins,” or four corners. Both in the old game and the modern version five players are required, one । occupying each of the four corners, while the fifth player stands in the i middle. The Lovers’ Leap. Sappho killed herself by jumping from the Lovers' Leap, a Leucadian cliff. This leap was often taken by lovesick persons, who believed that if they survived the fall they would be effectually cured of a hopeless passion. The leaps were always witnessed by crowds of spectators, and the would-be suicides were in no way interfered with by the state. Boats were in attendance below to pick up the leapers if they ! came to the surface of the sea after they nhinire Hapuho haO I'at-SIOT! fnr «j-j , young man wno did not return her lovoJ ! and leaped from the cllll m oruer to oe i i cured. She perished in the fall. So j also did Artemisia and many other: celebreties. 1 Pliny tells a curious story of an old Athenian miser who was in love with his cook and desiring a cure, went to have a look at the cliff. He peeped over, shook his head, went homo and married the cook. —St. Louis GlobeDemocrat. Disease Spread by Funeral Flowers. Two years ago a young lady died in New York of diphtheria and her remains were sent to her home at Madalin. Dutchess County, for burial. On the casket when it reached the village, there were several floral tributesk The flowers composing them were disj tributed among the children, of thq Sunday-school class. In this mannei, the disease was spread through th£ . village and all the neighboring villaZ of Tivoli. It has never been wig, out For two years diphtheria pk t prevailed in that vicinity, causi^j many deaths, and .of iate deatns fregr the contagion have grown so numeif L ous that the people are alarmed and at ■ effort is being made to wipe out tnl disease. | I

iIVER CROMWELL. — His Country Liberty Rut Be” mme a Great Tyrant, re to say that England has few more interesting charan Oliver Cromwell, the itan. Inspired by religious in great victories, rid Engjyrant and implanted a love a which has lasted until •et. inspired by a mad amid show himself as great a my Stuart and finally gloomhis end. his life endangered nd his name hated by his sn. It is 253 years since he ay from this world but the i made on English-speaking some ways is still fresh ble. Yomwell was born at Hunt- ' pnl 25, Isir.», of a gentle ich were the owners of coniroperty. In his boyhood, arious anecdotes told of t 0 have been strong war' d an d bent O n having his own , prQL 111 bis studies he made poor ! him r° Bs and bis teachers considered offr better than a dunce and 0 5 K '' d biin severely. He was to V a “ lbrid « e to college and 1' cwaid lived in London where he d law. 11 is life in both places I ■ - 4-dil7erent front that of other I ten O£..his I'Hlss and it was only after his marriage in 1020 that he?i adopted his extreme religious views. He experienced a complete change then; to persons from whom heliad won money at play lie made ' restitution and much of his time was devoted to preaching and praying in the Puritan's meeting houses. Cromwell bad served previously in Parliament but it was during the session of the long Parliament which began in KUO that he became cs- . ' pecially conspicuous. He was ap- ; pointed on several important comi mittecs and gradually became known ‘ I asoneofthe most uncompromising ! j opponents of King Charles 1. and the । I royalists who were seeking to estab- 1 I list a despotism in England. The ! ' differences between the King and ' ; the Puritan party increased and at ' last in 1641, civil war broke out. Tne 1 royalists in Parliament vacated their 1 seats and joined the King and. Oc t'ober 23, the first battle wa^ fought 1 ;at Edgeh 11. The war went on ' j through the year and the royalists i were triumphant: it really seemed as ■ if one more important victory might ! put an end to the Puritans, when ■ Cromwell undertook the reform of ’ I the round head forces. He sought to ' j inspire them with a ,eal i egotten of J religion. It was not. he tola them, ' ■ an earthly power which they fought , ■ against, but it was the great principle lof evil. I’hev were fighting in be- ’ ' half of Jehovah him-elf and were 1 I like the people of Israel warring ' I against the enemies of the Lord. This teaching inspired the soldiers with courage and, in addition. Crom- ’ . well introduced the most perfect dis- ! ! dpline into his forces. At once the 1 began to turn; battle followed : ,nd p, the p ur it a n arms , * y 1 ‘nail V. at Naseby, LH,-. toe KTrrt .. ..-.! . < rWsLiLcv-lv overthrown and dlssipatea ■ ynd Charles lied to Scotland. f Eminent as Cromwell b 'd u,wii as 1 a soldier frr;n this time forward ne ; j showed himself a statesman of no I mean order. Parliament under his influence passed several acts of great * popular benefit and Jfur once sbowe I , itself the champion of the people’s ‘ rights. In 1647 the Scots gave up - ! Charles to the English. Cromwell was disposed to make some terms । with him and 1 t him easdv regain his crown. But as Charles could not , ! tell the truth to any one or be faith- ( ; ful to a single living soul, as it was ■ seen to be impossible to trust any ' ; promises or pledges made by him it | Anally became evident to Cromwell ' that if the liberties of the English people were to be preserved Charles must be sacrificed. The army had been ever opposed to Charles and. it is believed that Cromwell used his I influence with the soldiers to still further prejudice them against him. ( June 4, 1647, Charles was taken and imprisoned. The Parliament debated long over what to do with tne King and whether it was not better, even now, to come to some terms with him. The army watched these delays with impatience and finally, | , December 6, Col. Pride invaded the House of Commons and turned out all who would show the King any favor. In January Charles was brought to trial, condemned and beheaded on the 27th. Crom well was at the bottom of this. His name ’’stands third on Charles' death warrant and the execution was brought • .about through his influence. i Cromwell's n xt proceeding was to *put down the remaining royalixls 1^ pretcnsious of UTilArles’ son to the throne which %wcre upheld by the Scotch. These fthifigs he did it; a series of great bat- ' tles and by 1651 Cromwell was su--1 preme. The weakess of this great i man now becomes apparent Not bcontent with being the actual ruler iof England he would be King and to I that end he now directed his every j force. \ ioL nce and unconstitutional , ■ measures were employed; those only I ,j were allowed to sit in Parliament “ who were known to be in Cromwell’s favor, while hisopnonents were driven out with ignominy. A despotism followed equal to anything attempted u; by Charles I. Cromwell revied cusU toms of the monarchy and adopted i j the state of a price; he had himself | A i called Lord Protector and in every I way sought to add to his personal I magnificence. Continual plots were formed against him in consequence ' and he could only avoid them by the II constant employment of spies and other humiliating expedients. |*j If Cromwell showed himself weak 11 in his personal ambitions, however, 11 he made England feared and reI spected by every foreign nation. , V

Never before had she assumed so ’ । proud an attitude before the world and never had she played a more con- 1 spicuous part in foreign politics. I Whether consideration of th ese things would have saved Cromwell from his enemies’ plots cannot be told. Fortunately, perhaps, for himself, death stepped in and delivered him torn his enemies September 3 1658. A New Artificial Stone. A new artificial stone is being made in Germany, which appears to be immeasurably superior to many kindred materials now in use. The sand employed, which is well dried and sere ned I efore being used, contains from 2to 3 per cent, of clay. It is placed with a certain proportion of ground lime into an iron drum with diagonal ledges in the interior, which is then closed and slowly revolved by steam so as to secure a thorough incorporation of the materials with i each other. The mixture is taken i out and conveyed io an apparatus‘ consisting of a frame of wrought iron ! haying a flat bed, on wh ch molds are i Duilt up. When the frame is filled co.ers are placed on the molds everything is wedged up tightly and the fiame and molds arc run cn rails « oV«7 lln< J cr ' When thc cylinder s closed wat.-r and steam are admitted. Lhe water must cover the molds, and the steam is admitted at a pressure of 45 pounds or 60 pounds per square inch. The steam forces the water between the crevices of the molds, thewaiei slakes the lime, causing it to expand in volume, an<[ as the molds resist the outward expansion the lime is forced into the sand and cements it into hard stone, j The steam pressure is kept up for . three days. The frame is then with- ; drawn, and twelve hours are allowed i for cooling before the taking to pieces of the molds and the removal; of the stone. Different tints can be ■ given to the stone by mixing a small 1 । percentage of colored earth with the ' lime and sand in the cylinder In ' some experiments made in England 1 to ascertain the resistance to thrust- ’ 1 ing stress of six c-inch cubes of this artificial sandstone, three ot them, of t bull color, crushed at an average of ; . Hl6.<> tons per s :uare foot, while the ! ; remaining three, which were gray, ' 1 went at 177.6 tons per squre foot. I Queer Cats in a Church Spire. ( The trio ot felines which B. E. i } Wo dbrey. a carpenter of Brighton, j found in the spire of the First Parish i “ Church of Brighton recently, are of a ' A species entirely unknown. About a g year ago the property of the First; f Parish wes sold. Recently Mr. i i Wood! rey began to tear down the ' ‘ old spire of the church. He tir>t 1 tore off a heavy wire screen that en- i t closed the belfry. This screening has c been in place for a > umber of years, i 1 When it was removed three most pe- i । culiar cats were seen to jump from rafter to rafter and ascend to the t peak of the spire. I They were exceedingly wild, and ' their appearance is extremely pecu- ; i liar. They are covered with a coat 5 of lung shaggy fur; their teeth are i ’ the nYscYit each W-a ' hair resembling a tusk. They arc ( t very agile, and spring from rafter to । s rafter with theease of a squirrel. It 1 is not known how they got into the , * spire or how long they have been ; there, but they must have been con- i 1 lined in the.r .i rial abode for many'; years. 1 . About a vear ago i >tra go singipg ' noise was he Ird coming from the spire at fr quent intervals, and it ' was thought that it was caused by tiie swinging of the vane. It is now , believed that it was ciused by these 1 animals. How they have managed i to live is unaccountable, unless they I catch the sparrows that abound in . the spire. It is not known how their j supply of water was obtained. Mr. I Woodbrey will endeavor to capture । t hem. —Boston Transcript. A Fact. The head of one of the government establishments gave orders that strict watch was to be kept over a plot of grass near his house, and that no one was to be permitted to pass over it. A poli eman, new to the force and place, was put on guard. That same day the Governor’s daughter, on her way to return some visits, and unaware ot the order given, took a short cut across the plot of grass. ‘•Hi! there, get off that grass,” immediately called out the policeman on guard. The Governor’s daughter in great indignation drew herselt up and continued on her way. “Hi! do you hear me,” shouted the man, “will you get off that grass, or ssmitri -I make you?” ■‘Feiiu»,” esuid the lady, “do you know to whom you are speaking? I am”—with dignity—“the Governor’s daughter.” Policeman (who suspects a trick:) “I don’t care who you are, whether th ■ Governor's daughter or his greatgrandmother, but this I know, that my orders are that no one is to cross over this grass but the Governor’s cow, so off you goes. ” Tableau! >1 us sc for a Butcher. A music teachor undertook to coach up the young and beautiful daughter of a wealthy butcher in the art of crotchets and quavers, and having in due course brought her to perfection in one or two easy show pieces, such as “Tannhauser” and “Lohengrin,” sent her home to her pa. But the master of the marrowbone and the cleaver was far from satisfied. “I wanted yer to teach her somethin’ appropriate,” said he “somethin’ as she could play when we,gives a party. Ain’t there a composer named Choppin? Well, that’s the bloke ter write a bit o’ music for , a butcher. ”

HAWAIIAN MESSAGE. I ALL CORRESPONDENCE TRANSMITTED TO CONGRESS. Everything: Is Sent to Congress Except That Which They Have Already Received and a Dispatch from Minister Stevens Dated October 8, 1892. AU Now Laid Hare. I resident Cleveland has sent to Congress the correspondent e in the Ila" waiian trouble that had not previously been submitted. Mr. Cleveland makes no rec mmendations, contenting himself with a simple message of transmittal. in which he explains that the dispatches hitherto withheld are now given publicity with one exception His c. mmun’eation is as follows: To the Congress: I transmit herewith copies of all dispatches l r -^° Ur at Hawaii relating In any waj to political affairs in that country except creM aS r’ ai i e 'T 1 her ? tofo re laid before Congress I also transmit a copy of the last in?«<u 1C i ti ? n 8 Y nt uur minister, dated Jan V i^dv s m? 'he only instructions to him not ail patch of Nov i. aS t«.» e contci >ts of the dial longerJo be sutllelent reason seems no Haul dispatches a emw or " ‘tnholtiinsc .mV 1 The *4^ an .*i dated Oct. 8. 1892, above referred to is still withheld for the reason that such a course still appears to be justifiable and proper. gboveb Cleveland. The fir. t pie *e of correspondence is a letter from \\ illis to Gresham dated Honolulu, Nov. bi, 1593. Willis states that < n Monday, Nov. 13, the queen visited him and he made known to her the I’re ident’s regret that she had been dethroned through the unauthorized intervention of the I nited States, #nd his hope that lhe wrong might be redressed. He then made known the conditions of her restoration: but she said that the persons concerned in her overthrow would I e beheaded and their property confiscated, as was the law. Willis then said: “I have no further communication to make t > you now,and will have none until I hear fn m my government.” Further on Willis* says: “As to the Queen's safety I do not have any fear at present. There is a telephone in my si eping room and I have asked her peo; L'to call me up at any hour of the night or day. She also has the privilege, as state I in previous dispatches, of coming here, or of going on one of our war vessels.” He says he has had no interview with the Queen or her representatives since the one of Nov. 13. The letter dated Honolulu, Dec. 14, which acknowledges the receipt of instructions by the Corwin, is sjwken of further on. The letter is brief, and among other ob ervat’ons Willis says: “The excitement consequent upon the unexpected arrival of the Corwin is inten e throughout the city. The President’s message, which was published this morning, has increased the excitement, but I hope no immediate outbreak will occur.” In a letter dated Dec. IQ Willis says that on Dec. 16 he had an interview with the Queen and her advisers. Under date of Dec. 20,Minister Willis in a confidential dispatch says when he secured the Queen's consent to the terms of restoration, then for the first time he made his propositi on known to iua letter i.ixa that C. B. Wilson, one of the Qu "ns'*"** supporters, called on him and handed him what he termed "A method of procedure upon restoration of the Queen.” It provides: 1. A proclamation by the Queen's government of her reassumption of the control of the government of the Hawaiian Islands. 2. The a; p untment of a commander-in-chief and -tail. 3. A proclamation of the martial law and the suspension of the writ of hab as corpus. 4. The calling upon all the loyal citizens and wellwishers of the government to register their names at theodic? for enrollment of volunteers. The final instructions sent to Willis by the Maripo-a say that he has rightly comprehended his instructions; that the Presid nt reg:et- that the failure of the provisional government to acquiesce in his conclusions constrains him t > reach and submit a measure of justi< e to the Hawaiians and their deposed s wereign. The instructions say that the President has never claimed the right to act _as arbitrator I etween the con-titutional or provisional government. Wants Fay for Her Throne. A San Francisco paper contains the following from Honolulu: Ex-Queen Lihuokalani has entirely abandoned all hope of ever reyainins the throne of Hawaii and is now perfeetinz arrangements for bringing suit against the United States for an immense amount of money. This information comes from a source which makes it absolutely trustworthy. Her claim for damages will be made on the ground that she was deposed solely bv the armed force of the United States, acting under the advice and direction of Minister Stevens. It is well known among the leading royalists that a repres ntnfive of the ex-Queen left here not long ago for San Francisco. He was instructed to open negotiations with the State Department concerning the payment of a large sura to the ex-Queen as partial return for the loss of her position. What action he has taken in the matter has not been learned 1 ere. His — identity is closely concealed. Thoughts of Grea 1 n. Death is an eternal sleep.—Fouche. Placed by his order on the gates of the French cemeteries in 1794. I love men, not because they are men. but because they are not women. —Queen Chri-tina of Sweden. All the e men have their price.— Robert AValpole. Spoken of the oppo sition in the House of Commons. After thunder f< Hows rain.—Socrates. when Xantippe emptied a basin of slops from a window cn his head. From the summit of the pyramids forty centuries look down upon you.— Napoleon at the battle of the Pyramids. It is only the first step that costs.— Mme. du Deffand, in a letter to Horace Walp< le. l.< ’VE never dies of starvation, but oft: n of indigestion.—Mlle. Ninon de I’Fnelos. I DISLIKE monkeys; they always rem::i<l me of poor relations. —Henry Luttrell. We have made a compact with death.—Claude Bazire, French Revolutionist. I can i rbva a coach and six through every act of Parliament. —Daniel o't' r-n • L