Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 13 December 1877 — Page 7

ij.-.

PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE.

Novel of Thrilling Interest About the Great Strikes in England.

BY CHARLES READE.

[Continued From Last Issue.]

CHAPTER XXIX.

At the end of two months the situa tion of affairs was as follows: Grace Carden received a visit every week from Henry, and met him now and then

other houses: she recovered her

health and spirits, and, being of a patient •ex, wbs quite contented, and even haopj. Frederick Coventry visited her often, and she received his visits quite graciously, now that the man she loved was no longer driven from her. She even pitied him, and was kind to him, and had misgivings that she had used him ill. This feeling he fostered, by a tender, dejected, and inoffensive manner. Boiling with rage

inside,

this consummate

actor had the art to feign resignation whereas, in reality, he was secretly watching for

opportunity to injure his

rival. But no such oppoi tunity came. Little, in humble imitation of his sovereign, had employed a go-between to employ a go-between, to decu with the 6tate go-betweens and dcpjty go-be-tweens, that hampered the purchase— the word 'grant' is out of place, bleeding is no boon—of a patent from the crown, and by this means, he had done, in sixty days, what a true inventor will do in twenty-four hours, whenever the vurous mctalfic ages shall be succeeded by the age of reason he had secured his two saw-grinding inventions, by patent, in Great Britain, the Canadas and the United States of America. He had another invention pertected: it was for torging axes and hatchets by machinery but this he did not patent: he hoped to find his remuneration in the prior use of it tor a few months. Mere prioriy is sometimes a great advantage in this class ot invention, and there are no fees to pay for it, nor deputy-lieutenant-vice-go-be-tweens' ante chambei for genius to cool its heels and heart in.

But one thing soon became evident. He conld not work his inventions without a much larger capital.

Dr. Amboyne and put their heads together over this difficulty, and the Doctor advised him in a more erudite 6tf le than usual.

True inventioi

invention,' said lie, 'whether

literary or mechanical, is the highest and hardest effort of the mind. It is an operation so absorbing that it often weak ens those pettier talents which make what we call the clever man*v Therelore the inventor should ally himself with some person of talent and energy, but no invention. Thus supported, he can have his fits of abstraction, his headaches, his heart-aches, his exultations, his depressions, and no harm done his dogged asasociate will plough steadily on all the time. So, after all, your requiring capital is no great mistoriune yuu must look out for a working capitalist. Nt sleep irig partntr will serve your turn what you want is a good, rich, vulgar, cnergetio man, the pachvderiuatouser, the better.' tienry acted on thisadvice, and went to London in search of am jneyed part ner. Oh, then, it was he learned— 'The tiell it is in suing lung to bide.'

He tound capitalists particularly averse to speculate in a patent. It took him many days to find out what moneyed men were open to that i»ort ot thing at all and, when he got to them, they were cold. They had all been recently bitten by haiebrained inventors

Then he represented that it was a. matter of judgement and offered to prove by figuies that his saw-grinding a achines muse return three hundred per cent Those he applied to would not take the tiouble to study his figures. In other word-, he came at the wrong time'. And thw wrong time is as bad as the wron thing, or worse. Take note ot that, please: and then forget it.

At last he gave up Loudon in despair and started lor Birmingham. 1 he train stopped at Tring.and,

'That

K, ti

Sfcfr'i

it was

going on again, a man ran towards the third-class carriage Little was seated in. One ot the servants of the company tried to stop him, very propetly. He struggled with the official, and eventually shook him off. Meantime the train was accelerating its pace. In spite ot that, this personage made a run and a bound, and, half leaping, half scrambling, got his head and sheuloers over the door, and there oscillated, till Little grabbed him with both hands, and drew him power fully in.

is a foolhardy trick, sir

beting your pardon.'

oung man,' panted the invader, 'do *5you kuovv who you're a speaking to?' •No. The Empeior of China?' 'No such trash it's Ben Bolt, & man Ahat's bad to beat.' 'Well, you'll get beat iomeday, if you, "go jumping ill and out ot trains in mo tion.' 'A manv have been killed that way, suggested a huge woman in the corner with the meekest and most timid voice imaginable.

Mr. Bolt eyed the speaker with a huWell, it I'm ever killed

mbrous glance that way, 1 11 send you a letter by the Got a sweetheart, ma'am?' ve got a good husband, sir,' said she, iwith mild dignity, and pointed to a thin, 'ijsour personage opposite, With his nose in newspaper. Deep in some public ^question, he ignored this little private jts .^inquiry.

post.

i' 'I'v

That's unlucky,' said Bolt, 'for here am

wi' jfel, just landed from Victoria, and money Wdn both pockets. And where do you S -think I am going now to Chtster, to ^ee my father and mother, and show them I was right alter all. They wanted $me to go to school: I wouldn't. Leathered me. I howled, but wouldn't spell I

was

always bad to beat. Next thing **Vas, they wanted to make a tanner of me. wouldn't. 'Give me fifty pounds and 'let me try the world,' eays I. They SfrtMjwoulda'l. We quarelled. My uncle inpV -sterfered one day, and save me fifty .A pounds. 'Go to the devil,' said he 'if you ^'like so as. you don't come back.' I went

V"!to Sydney, and doubled my fifty got a 4 sheep-run, an' I turned my hundred into

thousand. Thea they tound gold, and that brought up a dozea ways ot making' "money, all of 'em better than digging. Why, ma'am I made then thousand pounds by selling the beastliest lemonade you ever tasted for gold-dust at the mines. That was a good swop, wasn't it? So now I'm come home to see if I can stand the old country and its ways and I'm going to see the old folk. I haven't heard a word about them this twenty years.'

Oh, dean sir,' said the meek woman,

•twenty years is a long time. I hope you won't find them dead an* buried.' 'Don't say that, don't say that!' And the tough, rough inan showed a grain of feeling. He toon recovered himself, though, and said m®re obstreperously than ever, 'If they are, I disown 'em None of your faint-hearted people for me. I despise a chap that gives in before eighty. I'm Ben Bolt, that is bad to beat. Death himself isn't going to bowl me out till I've had my innings.' 'La sir pray don't talk so, or you'll anger them above, and, ten to one, upset the train.'

That one for me, and two for yoursel', ma'am.' Yes, sir,' said the mild soul. 'I have got

husband with me, and you are

onl a bachelor, sir.' 'flow d'ye know that?' 'I think vou'd ha' been softened down a bit, if you'd ever had a good wife.' 'Oh* it is because I speak loud. That is with bawling to my shepherds half a mile off. Why, if I'm loud, I'm civil. Now, young man, what is your trouble?'

Henry started from his reverie, and looked astonished. Out with it,'shouted Mr. Bolt 'don't hit grizzling there. What with this lady's husband, dead and buried in thar. there newspaper, and

YOU,

thai sets brooding

like a hen over one egg, it's a Qjaker's meeting, or nearly. 11 you'Ve been and murdered any body, tell us all about it. Once off your m:nJ, you'll be more sociable.'

A man's thoughts are his own, Mr Bolt. I'm not So fond of talking about myself as you seem to be.' 'Oil, I can talk, or I can listen. But you won't do neither. Pretty company you are, a hatching of vour egg.' 'Well, sir,'said the meek wompn to Henry, 'the rough gentleman he is right If you are in trouble, the best way is to let your tongue put it off your heart.' •I'm sure you are yery kind,' said Henry,'but really my tr-.uble is one of those out-of-the-way things that do not interest peopFe. However, the long and the short is, I'm an inventor. I have invented several things, and kept theai dark, and they have paid me. I live at Hillsborough. But now I have found way of grinding long saws and circular saws by machinery, at a saving of five hundred percent, labor That saving of labor represents an enormous profit—a large fortune so 1 have patented the invention at my own expense. But I can't work it without a capitalist. Well, I have ransacked London, and all the moneyed men shy me. The lonls will go into railways, and bubbles, and a lot of things that are blind chance, but they won't even study my drawins and figures, and I've made it clear enougti too.' 'I'm not of their mind, then,' said Bolt. 'My rule is never to let another man work my money. No railway shares nor gold mines for Ben Bolt. My money goes with me, -and I goes with my money.' 'Then you area man of sence and 1 only wish you had money enough to go into this with me. 'How do you know how triuch money

I've got? "You show me how to turn twmty into forty thousand, or forty thousand into eighty thousand, and I'll soan find the money.' 'Ob, I could show you how to tui fifteen thousand into fifty thousand' lie then unlocked his black bag, and showed Boit some diawings that represented the grinders by hand at work on long saws and cir cular saws. 'This,' said he,'is the present system.' He then pointed out its defects. 'And this,' said ne, 'is what I pro pose to substitute.' Then he showed him drawings of his machines at work. 'And these figures represent the saving in labor. Now, in this branch of cutlery, the labor is the manufacturer's main expenre. Make ten men grind what fifty used, you pui forty workmen's wages in your pocket.' ,, •That's tall talk.' t'v 'Nut an inch taller thau the truth

Mr. Bolt studied the drawings and from obstreperous, became quite quiet and absorbed. Presently he asked Henry to change places with hin. and, on this being complied with, he asked tho meek woman to read him Henry's figures slowly. She stared, but complied. Mr Bolt pondered the figures, and.examined the drawings again. He then put number ot questions to Henry, some ot them very shrewd and at last, got so interested in the affair that he would talk of nothing else

As the trairT'slackeiled for Birmingham, ne said to Henry, 'I'm no great scholar I like to see thin&s in the body. On we go to Hillsborough.' 'But I want to talk to a capitalist or two at HillsSorough.' '•That is not fair I've gut the retusal. 'Thedeucc you have!' 'Yes, I've gone into it withyou and the others wouldn't listen. Said so yourself.' 'Well, but, Mr. Bolt, are you really in earnest? Surely this is quite out of your line?' 'How can it be out of my line if it pays? I've bought and sold sheep, and wool, and land, and water, and houses, and tents,and old clothes, and coffee, and tobacco, and cabs. And swopped—ray eye, how I have swoppedl I've swopped a housemaid under articles for a pew in the church, and a milch cow for a whale that wasn't even killed yet I paid for the chance. I'm at all in the ring, and devilish bad to beat. Here goes—high, low, Jack and the game.' •Did you ever deal in small becF?' asked Henry, satirically. 'No,'said Bolt, innocently. 'But I would in a minute if I saw clear to the nimble shilling. Well, will you come on to Hillsborough and settle this? I've got the refusal for twentyfour hours, I consider.' 'Oh, if you think so, I wid go on to Hillsboro'uh. But you said you wer® going to see your parents., "after twenty years' absence and silence.' 'So I am but they can keep what signifies a day or two more after twenty years?' He added, rather severely, as one' whose superior age entitled him to play the monitor, 'Youngnian, I never make a toil of a pleasure.' •No more do I. But how does that apply to visiting your parents?' •If I was to neglect business to gratify 'my feelings, I should be grizzling all the time and wouldn't that be making a toil of a pleasure?'

Henry could only grin in reply to this beautiful piece of reasoning and that same afternoon the pair were in Hillsborough, and Mr. Bolt, under Henry's guidance, inspected the grinding of heavy

saws,

both long and circular. He

noted, at Henry's request, the heavy, dirty labor. He then mounted to the studio, and there Henry lectured on his models, and showed them working. Bolt

i. .•*. .11 I« Uto AVA AM/1 1^ 1. «.

THE TERRE HAUTE WEEKLY GAZETTE

put on, for the first time, the coldness of the practised dealer. 'It would take a good deal of monev to work this pioperly.' said he. «haking his head. 'It has taken a good deal ot brains to invent it.'

No doubt, no doubt. Well, if you want mo to join you it must be on suitable terms. Mor.ev is tight.' 'Well, propose your own terms.' •That's not my way. I'll think it over before I put my hand to paper. Give me till to morrow. 'Certainly.'

On this Mr. Bolt went off as if he had been shot. He returned next day, and laid before Henry an agreement drawn by the sharpest attorney in Hillsborough, and written in a clerk's hand. 'There,' said he, briskly, you sign that, and I'll make my mark, and at it we go

Stop a bit,* said Henry. 'You've been to a lawyer, have you? Then I must go to one too fair play's a jewel.'

Bolt looked disappointed but the next moment he affected cheerfulness, and said, 'That is fair. Take it to your lawver directly.'

I will,' said Henry but instead of a lawyer, he took it to his friend Doctor Amboyne, told him all about Ben Bolt, ano begged his advice on the agreement

Ouirht he to have the lion's share like this?' The moneyed man generally takes that. No commodity is sold so far b.* vond its value as money. L*t me read it.'

The purport of the agreement was as follows:—New premises to be built by Bolt, a portion of" the building to be constructed so that it could be easily watched night and day. and in that part the patent saw-grinding machines to be worked. The expenses ot this building to be paid off by degress out of the gi oss receipts, and meanwhile Mr Bolt was to receive five per cent, interest for his outlay and two-thirds »f the profits, if any. Mr. Little to dispose of his present factory, and confine his patents to the join,t operation.

Doctor Amboyne, on mature consideration, advised Little to submit to all the conditions, except the clausc confining his operations and his patents. The just drew their pen through that clause and sent the amended agreement to Bolt's hotel. He demurred to the amendment but Henry 6tood firm, and pro posed a conference of fonr. This took place at Doctor Amboyne's house, and at la6t the agreement was thys modified: the use of the patents in Hillsborough to bj confined to the firm of Bolt and Little but Little to be free to sell them, or work them in any other town, and also free, in Hillsborough, to grind saws bv hand, or do any other established opeiation of cutlerv.

The parties signed and Bolt went to work in earnest. With all his resolution he did not lack prudence. He went into the suburbs for his site and bought a large picce of ground. He advertised for contracts and plans, and brought them all to Henry, and profited by his practical remark*.

He warned the builders it must be a fortress, as well a8 a factory but, at Henry's particular lequest, he withheld the precise reason. 'I'm not to be rattoned,'said he. 'I mean to stop that little game. I'm Ben Bolt, that's bad to beat.'

At last the tender of Mr. White was accepted, and as Mr. Bolt, experienced in the delays of buildeis, lied him tight as time, he, on his part, made a prompt and stringent contract with Messrs. Whitbread, the brickmakers, and began to dig the inundations.

All this Henry communicated to Grace, and was in high spirits over it, and then so was she He had a beautiful frame made for the little picture she had given him, and hung it up in his studio. It became the presiding genius, and in deed the animating spirit, of his life.

Both to him and Grace the bright and hopeful period ef their love had come at last. Even Bolt contributed something to Liul -'s happiness. The man. hard as he was in business, was not without a certain rough geniality and then he -was so brisk and bustling. His exuberant energy pleased the inventor, and formed an agreeable relief to his reveries and deep fits of study,

The prospcct was bright, and the air sunny. In the midst ol all which there rose in the horizon a cloud, like that seen by Elijah's seivant, a cloud no bigger than a man's hand.

Boll burst into the 6tudio cne day, like a shell, and, like a shell, exploded. 'Here's a pretty go! We are all at a stand-still. "3 The rickmakers have struck.' •Why, what is the matter?' :.t* 'Fourpence. Young Wnitbread, our brickmaker's son, is like you—a bit of an inventor he altered the shape of the bricks, to fit a small hand-machine, and \Vhitbreads reckoned to save tenpence a thousand The brickmakers objected directly. Whitbread didn't want a row, so they offered to share the profit: The men sent two of their orators io parley: I was standing by Whitbread when they ca'ne up you should have heard 'em anv bodv would have sworn the servants we're masters, and the masters negro slaves. When the servants had hectored a bit, the masters, meek and mild, 6aid they would give them sixpence out of the tenpence sooner than they should feel dissatisfied. No that wouldn't do. •Well, then,' says young Whitbread, 'are you agreed what will dor' 'Well,' 6aid one of the servauts, 'we will allow you to make the bricks, if you give us the tenpence.'

'That was cool,' said Henry. 'To be sure, all brainless beggars try to starve inventon.' •Yes, my man: and you grumbled at my taking two-thirds. Labor is harder on yoii inventors than Capital' is, you see. "Well, I told 'etrt I wonered at their cheek* but the old man stopped me and spoke quite mild, says he, 'You are too hard on us we ought to gain a trifle by iiur own improvement: if it had come frotn you. We should pay you for it and he should stand by his offer bf -six pence. So then the men told them it would be the worse for them, and the old gentleman gave a bit of a sigh, and said he couldn't help thatt he must live in the trade, or leave it, he didn't much care which. Next morning they all struck work and there we are-—stopped.' 'Well,' saitiHenry, 'it is provokiug but you musttrt ask me to meddle. It's your business.' •It is, and I'll show you I'm bad to beat.' and with this doughty resolve he went off and drove the contractors they drove the brickmakers, and the brickmakers got fresh hands from a distance, and a promise of some more.

Bolt rubbed his hands, and kept poppiag into the yard to see how they got on.

took it ail ii\jhis eye flashed, and then he' By this means he witnessed an incident

famiiliar to brickmakers in that district, but new to him. Suddenly loud cries of pain were heard, and two brickmakers held up hands covered with blood, and transfixed by needles. Some ruffian had mixed the ciay with needles. The sufferers were both disabled, and one went to the hospital. Tempered clav enough to make two hundred thousand bricks had been needled, and had to bectcared away at a loss of lime and mitterial.

Boli went and told Henry, and it only worried him: he could do nothing. Bolt wen' and hired a watchman and a dog. at his own expense. The do was shot dead one dark night, and the watchman's box turned over and sat upon, watchman included, while the confederates trampled fifty thousand raw bricks into a shapeless mass.

The brickmasters, however, &tood firm, and at last four of the old hands returned to him, and accepted the sixpence profit due to the master's invention. These tour were contribution-men. that is to say they paid the Union a shilling per week for permission to make bricks but this weekly payment was merely a sort of black mail, it entitled them to no relief irom the Union when out of work: so a three-weeks' strike bi ought them to starvation, and they could co-operate no longer with the genuine Union men, wio were relieved from the box all this time. Nevertheless, though tlu ir poverty, and not their will brought them back to work, thev were all threatened, and found themselves in a position that merits the sympathy ot all men, especially ot the very poor. Starvation on one side,

sanguinary

threats on

the other, from a Uni in which abandoned them in them in their need, yet expected them to stick by it and starve. In short, the said Union was no pupil of Amboyne could not put itself in the place of these hungry men, and realize their dilemma it could only see the situation from its own point of view. From that intellectual defect sprang a crime, On a certain dark night, Thomas Wilde, one of these con-tribution-men, was burning bricks all by himself, when a body of seven men came crawling up to within a little distance These men were what they call 'victims,' i. e.. men on strike,, and receiving pay from the ,x.

Now, when a man stands against the fire of a kiin, he can not see many yards from him: so five of the 'victims' stood waiting and sent two forward These two came up to Wilde, and asked him a favor. 'En, mister, can you let me and my mate he down for an hour by yotu fire?' 'You are welcome,' said ronest Wilde. He then turned to break apiece of coal, and instantly one of those who had accepted his hospitality struck him on the back of the head, and the other five rushed in, and they all set on him, and hit him with cartlegs, and kieked him with their heavy shoes. Overpowered as he was, he struggled away from them, groaning and bleeding, and got to a shed about thirty vrrds oft, But these relentless men, atter a moment's hesitation, followed him, and rained blows and kicks on him again, till he gave himself up for dead. He cried out, in his despair, •Lord, have mercy on me they have finished me!' and tainted away in a pool of his own bio id. But, just before he be came insensible, he heard a voice say, 'Thou'll burn no more bricks.' Then the victims'retired, leaving this gre-it criminal tor dtad

After along whiie he came to himself, and found his arm was broken, and his body covered with cats anal bruises. His house was scarcely a furlong distant, et he was an hou«- crawling to it. His room was up a short, stairs of ten steps. The steps beat him he leaned o.. the rail at the bottom, and called out piteonsly, 'M\ wife my wife my wife !'three times.

Mrs. Wilde ran down to him, and caught hold of his hand, and said, 'Whatever is to do?'

When she took his hand the pain made hiin groan, and she felt something drip on to her hand. It was blood from his wounded arm Then 6he was terrified, and, strong with excitement, she managed to get him into tiu house and lav him on tre floor. She asked him, had he fallen off the kiln? He tried to reply, but could not, and fainted again. This lime he wa» insensible for several hours. In the morning he came to, and told his cruel story to Whitbread, Bolt, and others. Bolt and Whitbread took it most to heart. Bolt went to Mr. Ransome, and put the case in his hands.

Ransome made this remark:—'Ah, you area 6tranger, sir. The folk hereabouts never come to us in these union cases. I'll attend to it, trust me.'

Bolt went with this tragedy to Henry, and it worried him but he could do nothing. 'Mr. Bolt,' said he, 'I think you are making your own difficulties. Why auarrel with "the Brickmakers' Uion? Surely that is superfluous.' 'Why, it is them that quarrelled with me, and I'm Ben Bolt, that is bad to beat.' He armed himself with gun and revolver, and watchea the Whitbreads' yard himself at night.

Two days aifter- this, young Whitbread's wife received an anonymous letter, advising her, as a friend, to avert the impending fate of her husband, hy persuading him to dismiss the police and take back his Hands. The letter concluded with this sentence, 'He is generally respected but we have come to a determination to shoot him.'

Young Whitbread took no apparent notice of this, and soon afterwards the secretary of the Union proposed a conference. Bolt got wind ot this, and was there when the orators came. The deputation arrived, and, after a very f.hort preamble, offered to take the sixpence •Why,' said Bolt, 'you must be joking. Those are the Jerms poor Wilde came back on, and you have hashed him for it.

Old Whitbread looked the men in the face, and said, gravely, You are too late. You have she{|,,that poor m°n's blood, and you have, sent an anonmous letter to my son's wife. That lady has gone on her kness to us to leave the trade, and we have consented. Fitteen years ago, your Unipn wrote letters of this kind to tny wife (she was pregnant at the time), and drove her into her grave, with fright ane anxiety for her husband. You shall not kill Tom's wife as wejl. The trade is a poor one at,best, thanks to the way you have ground your employers down, and, when you add to that needling our clay, and burning our gear, and beating our servants to death's door, and driving our wives into the grave, we bid you goodbye. Mr. Bolt. I'm the sixth brickmaster this Union has driven out of the trade by outrages during the last ten years. •Thou's a wrong-headed old chap,' -f^said Brickmaker's spokesman: *but thou casn't run

away with place. Them as takes to it will have to take us on •Not so. We have sold our plant to the Barton Machine Brickmaking Company and you maltreated them so at starting that now they won't let a single Union man set his foot on their premis-

The company in question made bricks better and cheaper than anv other brickmaster but making them by machine, were alway at war with the Brickmakers' Union, and, whenever a good chance occurred for destroying their property, it was done. They, on their part, diminished those chances greatly bv setting up their works five miles from the town, and by keeping armed watchmen and police. Onl theae ran away with their profits.

Now, when this company came so near the town, and proceeded to work up Whitbread's clay, in execu'ion of the con tract with which their purchase saddled them, the Brickmaker's Union held a great meeting, whicn tullv a hundred brickmakers look part, and passed extraordinary resolutions and voted extraordinary sums of money, and recorded both in their books. These hooks were .-ubsequently destroyed for a reason the reader can easily divine who has read this narrative with his understanding.

Soon alter that meeting, one Kay, a brickmuker who was never seen to make a biick—for ihe best of all reasons, he lived by blood alone—was observed reconnoitring the premises, and that very night a quantity of barrows, untensils and tools were heaped together, naptha poured over them, and the whole set on fire.

Another dark night, 20,000 bricks were trampled so noiselessly that ihe perpetrators were neither seen nor heard.

But Bolt hired more men, put up a notice he would shoot any intruder dead, and so frightened them by his biuitering that they kept away, being cowards ai bottom, and the bricks were rapidly made, and burnt, and some were even delivered these bricks were carted from the yard to the building-6ite by one Harris, who had nothing to do with the quarrel he was a carter by profession, and wheeled bricks for ail the world.

One night this poor man's haystack and stable were all in flames in a moment, and unearthly screams issued from the latter.

The man ran 6ut, half naked,«and his first thought wa« to save *Ris good gray mare from the fire. But this act of humanity had been foreseen and provided against. The miscreants had crept into the stable, and tied the poor docile beast fast by the head to the rack then fired the straw. Her screams were such as no man knew a horse could utter. They pierced all hearts, however hard, till her burnt body burst the burnt cords, and all fell together. Man could not aid her. But God can avenge her.

As if the poor thing could tetl whether she was drawing machine hiade bricks, or hand made bricks!

The incident is painful to relate but it would be unjust to omit. It was characteristic of that particular Union and, indeed, without it my reader could not possibly appreciate the brickmaking mind. y:*'.

Bolt went off with this to Little but Amboyne was there, and cut his tales sbort. 'I hope,' said he,'that the common Creator of the four-legged and the twolegged beasts, will see justice done between them, but you must not come here tormenting my inventor with these horrors. Your business is to relieve him of all such worries, and let him invent in peace.' I 'Yes,'said Littiei'and I have told Mr. Bolt we can't avoid a difficulty with the cutler. But the brickmakers— whntmadness to go and quarrel with them! I will have noihing to do with it, Mr. Bolt.'

The cutlers! Oh, I don't mmd them,' said Bolt. 'They are angels compared with the brick-makers. The cutlers don't poison cows, and hamstring horses, and tie them fire tha, cutlers don't flinj, little boys into water-pits, and knock down little girls with their fists, just because their fathers ate non-Union mei the cutlers don't strew poisoned apples and oranges about, to destroy whole families like rat*. Why, sir, I have talked with a man the brickmakers tried to throw into boiling lime and another they tried topoiso with beer, and, when he "wouldn't drink it. threw vitriol in his eyes, and he's blind of an eye to this day. There's full haif-a-dozer. have had bottles of gunpowder and old nails flung into their rooms, with lighted fuscte, where tney were sleeping with their families they call that 'bottling a man it's a familiar phrase.' I've seen three cripples crawling about that have been set on by numbers and spoiled for life, and as many fired at in the dark one has got slug in his head to this day. And, with all that, the greatest cowards in the world,—daren't face a man in daylight any two of them but I've seen the woman they knocked down with their fists, and her daughter too, a mere child at the time. No, the cutlers are men, but the brickmakers are beasts.' •All the more reason far avoiding silly quarrels with the brickmakers,' said Little.

Thus snubbed, r. Bolt retired, muttering something about 'bad to beat,' He found Harris crying over the ashes of his mare, and the man refused to wheel any more machine-made bricks. Other carters being applied to, refused also. They had received written warning, and dared not wheel one of those bricks for their lives.

The invincible Bolt bought a cart and a horse, hired two strangers, armed them and himself with re vol vert, and carted the bricks himself. Five brickmakers waylayed him in a narrbw lane he took out his revolver, and told them he'd send ihem all to hell if one Ii.id a finger on him at this rude pbseivation they fled like sheep.

The invincible carted his bricks by day, and at night rode the horse away to an obscure inn, and slept beside him, armed to the teeth.

The result of all which was that fmt day he burst into Little's studio shouting 'Victory!' and told him two hundred thousand bricks were on the premises, and twenty bricklayers would be at work on the loundations that afternoon.

Henry Little was much pleased at that, and when Bolt told him how he had carted the bncks in person, said,- 'You are the man for me you really are bad to beat.'

While they were congratulating each other on this hard-earned victory, Mr. Bayne entered softly, and said, 'Mr. White—to speak to Mr. Bolt.' 'That is the builder,' said Bolt. 'Show him up.'

Mr. White came in with a long face*

'Bad news, gentleman: the Machine^ Brick-making Company retires from busi-® ness, driven out ot trade by their repeated losses from violence.' 'All the worse for the nation,' said Bolt "Iiouses area fancy article—got to be. But it doesn,t natter to us. We have got bricks enough to go on with.' .» 'Plenty, sir but that is not where the shoe pinches now. The Brickmakers? Union has made it right with the Bricklayers' Union, and the Bricklayers' Union orders u9 to cart back every one of those machine-made bricks to the yard.' 'See them first,' 9aid Bolt. 'Well, sir, have you considered the altemative 'Not I. What is it 'Not a bricklayer in Hilhboro', or for fifty miles round, will set a brick for us and if we get men from a distance they will be talked away, or driven away, directly. The place is picketed on every side at this moment.'

Even Bolt was staggered now. 'What is to be done, I wonder 'There's nothing to be done, b-it submit. When two such powerful unions amalgamate, resistance i» useless, and the law of the land a dead letter. Mr. Bolt, I'm not a rich man I've got a large family let me beg of you to release me from the contract.' 'White, you are a cur. Release you? never!' 'Then, sir, I'll go through the court, and release myselt.'

Henry Little was much dejected by this monstrous and unforseen obstacle arising at the very threshold of his,hopes. He telt so sad, that he determine to revive himselt with a sight of Grace Carden. Her pined for her face and.voice. So he went up to Woodbine Villa, though it was not his day. As he drew near that paradUe, the door opened, and Mr. Frederick Coventry came out. The two men nearly met at the gate. The rejected lover came out looking bright and happy, and saw the accepted lover arrive, looking depressed and careworn: he saw in a moment something was going wrong, and turned on his het with a glance of triumph,

Henry Little caught that glance, and stood at the gate black with rage. He stood there about a minute, and then walked slowly home again: he felt he should quarrel with Grace if he went in, and, by a violent effort of self restraint, he retraced his steps but he went homesick at heart.

The mother's eye read his worn face in a moment, and soon she had it all out of him. It cost her astruggle not to vent her maternal spleen on Grace but she knew that would only make her son more unhappy. She adyised him minutely what to say to the young laHj about Mr. Coventry: and, as to the other matters, she said, 'You have found ME. Bolt not so bad to beat as he tells you: for he is beaten, and there's an end of him. Now let me try.

What on earth can you do in a case of this kind?' 'Have I ever failed, when you ha»e accepted my assistance?' 'No: that's true. Well, I shall he gl& of your assistance now, heaven knows only I can't imagine—' 'Never mind will you take Grace Carden if I throw her into your arms?' 'Oh, mother, can you ask?'

Mrs. Little rang the bell and ordered a fly. 1L nry offered to accompany her. She declined. 'Go to bed eurly,'said she, 'and trui-t tj your mother. We are harder to bent sometimes than a good many Mr. Bolts.'

She drove to Dr. Amboyne's house, arid sent in her name. She was ushered into the doctor's, ttudy, and found him shivering over an enormous fire. 'Influenza.' •Oh dear.' said she,'I am afraid you are very ill.' 'Never mind that. Sit down.} You will not make me any worse, you may be sure of tha,t' and he smiled affectionately on her. 'Bin I came to intrude my own troubles on you.' 'All t!ie better. That will help me forget ni ne.'

Mrs. Little seated herself, and, after a slight hesitation, opened her battery thut —'Weil, inv good friend, lam come to ask you a favor. It is lo try and reconcile my brother and me, If any one can do it, you can.' 'Praise the method^ not the man. If one Could only persuade you to pu,' yourself in nis place, and him to put himself in yours, you woufd be both recqnciled in five minutes.' 'You forget we nave been estranged this five and-twenty years.' 'No, I don't. The onlv question is, whether, you can and will deviate from the practice of the world into an obese lunalic's system, both ol yui:.'

Fry me, to begin.' The doctor's eyes sparkled with satisfaction. 'Well, then,' said he, •ficst you must recollect all the differences you have see.i between th£ male and female mind, and imagine yourself a mai..' 'Oh, dear! that is so hard. But I have studied Henry. Well there—1 have unsexed myself—in imagination.' 'You are not only a man but a jingle-' minded man, with a high and cleai sense of obligation. You area trustee, bounH by honor to protect the interests of a certain woman and a certain child. The lady, under influence, wishes to borrow her son's money, and risk it on rotten security. You decline, and the\lady2s husband affronts you. In spite of thai affront, being a high-minded man, not to be warped by petty irritation, you hurry to your lawyers to get two thousand pounds of your own, for the man who had affronted yov.' 'Is that so?' said Mrs. Little. 'j[ was not aware of that.' '1 have just learned it, accidentally, from the son of the solicitor Raby went to that fatal night.'

A tear stole down Mrs. Little's ^cheek. 'Now, remember, you are not a woman, but a brave, high-minded man. In that cnaracteryou pity poor Mr. Littffc, but you blame him a little because he fftSd from trouble, and left his wife and child in it. To you, who are Guy Raby—mind that, please—it seems egotistical and weak to desert your wife an^ child even for the grave.' (The widow juried her face and wept. Twenty-five years do something to withdraw the vf il the heart has cast over the judgment.)^ 'But, whatever you feel, you utter,, only regret, and open your arms to your sister. She writes back in ah agony, for which, being a man, you can not make all the allowance you wouldfif you were a woman, and denounces you as her husband's murderer, and byls yon speak to her and write to her no. more, and with that she goec to the ^ittles. Can you blame yourself that, after pll.this you wait for her to review your conduct

'Continued on Tnlrd Btge,)