The Syracuse Journal, Volume 4, Number 31, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 30 November 1911 — Page 6

|MY LITTLE I | SHOPGIRL i t How I Made Her Acquaintance and o t What It Led To t • | «s> j By F. A. MITCHEL | $> Copyright by American Press Asso- <s» 0 elation, 1911. £ ososososo<B>o<S>oo<3>o<J>o<s>eso<B>oso

My name is Van Tromp, and my father came from Holland. He died when I was but six years old. When I came of age my mother suggested that I go to Rotterdam, where my father’s relatives lived, and make their acquaintance. She had an especial object in sending me to Holland, which she divulged to me on the eve of my departure. It was this: My father’s brother lived in the old homestead at Rotterdam. He and my father had been very dear to each other, and when my father died he expressed in his will a desire that I should marry this brother's daughter, of whose birth he received the news shortly before his death. Now that I had come of age my mother thought that I should make my cousin’s acquaintance and if the match were not disagreeable to me or to her we should fulfill the wish expressed in my father’s. will. Since I was fancy free I made no objection to the plan, especially not seing bound to marry my cousin unless we were agreeable to each other. My uncle, who was the oldest of the family of his generation, had Inherited the paternal estate, but had not been able to increase it. lirteed. it had all melted away e-xcept the homestead, which was becoming dilapidated and of very little intrinsic value. It was located in a suburb of Rotterdam. These things my mother told me before my departure, giving me instructions how to find the family I was to visit, and I started w ith a light heart. I sailed in a vessel bound for the port of Rotterdam and reached that city late at night. I went ashore early the

1/ A rW Hu n\«B ! TAKING VP THE NOTE, SHE POINTED FIRST TO HERSELF. next morning and after breakfast took a train for the suburb where my uncle lived. There 1 went to a hotel and during the morning started out in quest of my relatives. On the way it occurred to me that 1 might find them unprepared to receive me and that 1 would better inform them by note of my arrival and my intended visit. 1 had been told that they were poor, and it was to be supposed that on Mpceiving a visit from a well to do relative they would wish to cover up their poverty so far as possible. At any rate, 1 concluded that it would be boorish to pounce upon., them unannounced. There were but a few shops in the suburb; but, fortunately for me, in one of them stationery was kept, and I entered for the purpose of writing a note. A young girl was in charge, but as she spoke not a word of English and I not a word of Dutch I found it impossible to tell her in w’ords what I wanted. I therefore resorted to that language to which all persons who speak different tongues resort—pantomime. Seeing writing paper and envelopes in a glass case, I pointed to them. The girl took out some of the paper and a package of envelopes, from which 1 drew one sheet and one envelope. Then I looked about for a table on which to write. There was none in the shop, but the counter served my purpose, and, taking position before it, I called for pen and ink by running my fist over the paper as though I was writing, looking at the girl at the same time. She understood me perfectly and smiled as she turned to get me a pen and an ink well. I thought her smile very attractive. She laughed with her eyes as well as her lips, and a dimple appeared in each cheek. Her hair was of that light hue peculiar to northern races, and her eyes were blue. She was but a slip of a girl and had not filled out, but there was that about her which is often Channing in a girl passing from childhood to womanhood. I wrote my note in English, of course, addressed it and looked in my pocketbook for the wherewithal to buy a postage stamp, leaving the note meanwhile on the counter. Then I made signs to the girl that .1 would like to

buy a stamp. She looked at me curiously with her mild eyes, and 1 supposed she did not understand me. Taking up the note, she pointed first to herself, then out to the street, and I understood that she would find means to deliver the note. I concluded to leave it with her and put down a coin to cover all expense. But she shook her head as much as to say there was no charge involved. Not being able to urge the matter except by signs, 1 let it drop and took my departure. It did not occur to me till after noon that I had given my relatives no address. I could only account for the omission from the fact that my attention bad been taken up with the little creature in the shop where I had written the note. To rectify my error 1 went there for the purpose of writing another note to tell where I was to be found. When I reached the shop and signified that I wished for more paper the girl handed me an envelope with my address on it. Evidently she had either delivered the note herself or sent it by a messenger, and my relatives, not knowing where to send a reply, had sent it to her, trusting to my going back to her for a reply. I opened the envelope and read an invitation to call that evening. However, I found pantomiming with the little shop girl 89 pleasing away of passing the time that I was in no hurry to leave her. Perhaps it was exercising my Inventive powers in making myself understood. I told her that I was from America and New York city by simpiyMvrlting the words in English and pointing to myself. It did not require a knowledge of the English language for her to understand what I had written, for these names are the same or nearly the same in all languages. Then 1 showed her my uncle’s signature and drew a family tree, showing that he and my father were brothers. She took-ln all I had to say, being rather receptive than communicative. After amusing myself in this way as long as possible 1 left her to get through the rest of the afternoon as best I could. In the evening I called on my relatives.') One of my cousins, a boy of twelve, was studying English at school, and he served tolerably well for an interpreter. At any rate it was easier communicating through him than by signs. The evening wore away without my cousin, vrhose acquaintance I had come abroad to make, appearing. Finally 1 asked for her. I was told that she was indisposed and had gone to bed; when I came again 1 should see her. One thing Impressed me during my visit—that the family was endeavoring to hide their poverty from me. My uncle talked about the possessions of the family, but 1 noticed that he made no mention of the fact that they had dwindled. My aunt said that she would invite me to dine with them, but that "her cook had recently left her She hoped to secure another within a few days, when I would receive an in vltation. The next day, having nothing to do I went again to the shop from which I had sent the note, making an excuse to buy some more paper. 1 remained for some time chatting by pantomimwith the little Dutch girl, then went to my hotel and wrote a letter to my mother. In the evening I went again to my uncle’s, but failed a second time to see the cousin whom my father desired that I should marry. Oil this visit my aunt made an excuse for not asking me to make their house my home while in Holland by saying that my cousin’s indisposition had developed into a positive illness. I accepted the excuse, but attributed the real reason to poverty.

I remained in Rotterdam two weeks before my aunt announced to me that my cousin had recovered aud on my next call she would see' me. I was not esfpeclally gratified with the announcement. I had been making excuses to go almost every day into the shop from which I had sent my first note, and, while I had found signs inadequate to express some things, one thing it had expressed very readily—l had yielded so far to my inclinations as to imprint a kiss on her young lips. I had scarcely done so when I was sorely pricked by conscience. Marriage with the little shopgirl was not to be considered. I left her firmly resolved not to enter the shop again. The same evening I called on my relatives and It was on this occasion that I was told that on my next visit I should see my cousin, who had been so long invisible to me. When that next visit came about I made it in a disgruntled condition. I was alternately ashamed of myself for having taken a kiss from the little shopgirl and dissatisfied with having to make the acquaintance of a girl I had never seen and whom I felt in some measure bound to marry provided she was willing to marry me. My next visit was very embarrassing to my relatives and very delightful to me. My aunt was the only one of the family in the room into which I was ushered, and she was much constrained.. In a few moments a door opened and my cousin entered. She was my little shopgirl. The deceit had begun that the fact of her occupation might be concealed from me. One step had led to another till the final denouement became necessary. I have only to add that I found a yielding to my father’s request by no means Irksome, though several years passed before I claimed my bride.

What Violin Notes Will Do. A violin note may detonate an explosion, or. if long continued, may weaken steel or disintegrate stone. The vibrations of a violin are really serious in their unseen, unbounded force, and wherr they come with regularity they exercise an influence upon structures of brick, iron or stone. It follows, of course. tha.t there must have been continuous playing for years to cause the loosening of masonry or to make iron brittle, but it will do sb in time.—Scientific American.

THE HAVE you thought it quite a riddle that old Nero played the fiddle While Rome sizzled like a griddle in the fury of the fire? Have you wondered at tho killing and the melodrama thrilling And the blood that’s always spilling in the ancient days and <liro? What was all the wear and • f >r? V’hat. oh, what, the why c: .'fo: e? You are wondering and ‘ aakins o’er and o’er again. What was all the grand parade for? What were all the troops arrayed for? Why. ’twas all arranged and paid for bthe moving picture men! When there’s trouble feared or started they are never chicken hearted? With the van they have departed to bi present at the fray. Coronation, war or scandal—if the game is worth the candle, Operator turns the handle, and the film records the play. What’s a Mormon sanctuary? Not of such things are they chary. Their machine they’d gladly carry to a roaring lion’s den, Daring danger with a snicker If ’twould make the crowds grow thicker Where the pictures blithely flicker, nervy moving picture men! Nothing scares and nothing daunts them, they would snap the ghost that haunts them. If they think the public -wants them they will get the views to show. Crime and horror, fond romances, savage fights and dainty dances. Life with all its many chances men must meet with as they go. If they could they’d send a mission to St. Peter to petition He accept a proposition for celestial views, and then They would very promptly proffer all the rest within the coffer. Tempting Satan with an offer from the moving picture men. —Berton Braley in Puck. Her Mistake. Sweet was the lass, low was the gas; it was the evening she expected him to put across the big question. He did not look well. Something seemed to be troubling him. He tried to say something, but the words stuck in his throat, and the girl, noticing this, turned the gas even lower. Suddenly he turned to her and cried. “I’m a dub!’’ “No,” she said fondly. “You don’t appreciate yourself as well as some others do, perhaps. Tee-hee!” “Yes,” he persisted stubbornly. “I’m a dub!” “No,” she maintained. “Yes,” he almost shouted. “I’m a dub!” She was a sensible girl, and so, realizing that he ought to know best, she thanked him kindly for warning her in time and banded him his hat. It was only after the door slammed behind him forever that she realized the awful truth. He had contracted a nawsty cold, and what he had been trying to say was, “I’m in love!”—Philadelphia Times.

T Strange. T * One of the strangest things in 5 X this world is why the, kind of T X woman who is proud of her in- S X tellectuality nearly always mar- X X ries a man who likes to tinker X X with sick chickens.—Galveston T ? News. T

Would Not Commit Himself. “Which is the greater statesman, Mr. Asquith or Mr. Balfour, and why?” This was question No. 8 on Smithson’s examination paper, and Smithson was weak on political questions. W’hich is the greater statesman? Should he toss up? Should he take the names in alphabetical order? Should he— Ah, an idea! Smithson’s brow cleared aud, seizing his pen, he wrote: “If we consider carefully who Asquith and Balfour are; if we look thoughtfully at what they have done and ask ourselves which Is the greater statesman, we must unhesitatingly answer in the affirmative.”—Tit-Bits.

Liberal Reward. JU] rsj /“A o—s7/ “How quiet your little boy is!” “Yes. I told him if he was good today I would let him watch his fathei take up the dining room carpet thia evening!’’—New York Mail. > i * < ‘ Real Humor. ’' 0 Possibly it is just as well for « 1 the man who has a sense of hu- ‘» , mor that he doesn’t live to read ‘ [ ‘ ‘ the inscription on his tombstone; < • ,! otherwise he might laugh him- ’ [ • • self to death.—New York Times. • j Argument Still Open. Disputatious Boarder—There’s something in the Fletcherizing fad, sure as you live. Remember about Gladstone? He used to chew every bite thirty-two times. Taciturn Boarder—Yes, but he got tired of it and quit when he was only eighty-nine.-Chicago Tribune. Toe Personal. Hamfatt—R’yully. me appetite must be tempted this mawning. Os what shall I pahtake? Landlady—How do eggs strike you? Hamfatt—Generally In the—madam, don’t be puhsonall— Toledo Blade.

Three Meetings By F. A. MITCHEL Copyright by American Press Association. 1911.

Three times 1 saw her, three times 1 gazed upon her, each time being drawn nearer to her before I knew per sorrow’. 1 was riding on a railroad train to my home in the suburbs of a great city when looking up I saw a girl who faced me gazing at me with a pair of large brown eyes. There was in her face something like sadness, but not sadness, rather the appearance of one born under different conditions from other mortals—a resignation, yet a content ment in resignation. I have tried by these words to describe it, but am conscious of having failed. Though her eyes were fixed upon me, there was no boldness in them. Rather she seemed unconscious of meeting mj gaze. Perhaps, 1 thought, she is iug of something so absorbing that though she is looking straight at me she does not see me, or it may be that she is looking at something beyond me. I have often returned a salute from a person who meant it for one behind me. So I continued to gaze at the girl and she at me till she turned her face in another direction. She was sitting by a lady double her age, and the likeness between them in dlcated that they were mother and daughter. Presently the train stopped at a station, and the two left the car together. I had noticed by the affectionate glances the mother gave the daughter that she idolized her, and when they passed out it was hand in hand. I did not forget the face, and a year later I saw it again. This time it was in a church. She was, as before, accompanied by her mother. 1 was sitting in a transept; the girl was facing the pulpit. There was the same look, indescribable in words, that had impressed me twelve months ago. Her gaze was fixed on the clergyman, though occasionally she would drop it as though looking into her lap. There was in me a vague feeling—something like a hope—that when I had seen her on the train she had been, at least a part of the time, looking at me, cognizant of my presence; that she had re membered me as 1 remembered her. I watched to see if she would not look in my direction. Just before the close of the services I was rewarded by seeing her turn, and her eyes rested upon me. I looked for something to indicate that she was conscious of my presence and that she had seen me before. But there was only that strange look of resignation 1 had seen before. After the benediction she and her mother left the church in the same manner as they had left the train. The third meeting. Having a law case 1 was waiting in the courtroom for it to be tried. A criminal case was called—that of Evelyn Bryce. Who should come into court to answer to the charge of forgery but the girl 1 had seen twice before. She came hand and hand with her mother.

Naturally I was wrapped in the trial. The prisoner’s attorney was evidently trying to prove a conspiracy on the part of certain persons against his client When he made a point in her favor or her case appeared to be going against her I looked to see what effect it had upon her. 1 could see very tittle. 1 was not sure that 1 could see any. I noticed that the jury-in deed, all those in the courtroom-were looking at her; that they seemed as much impressed with that look of mingled resignation and content as 1. The defendant’s counsel exhibited the document that the girl was accused of forging and showed that the name had been written on the line intended for it without the raising or depression of a single letter and without incline either up or down. “You see. gentlemen of the jury.” he said, “that whoever wrote that name must have written it in a bright light, must have written with a pair of eyes that worked thoroughly in concert, foi there are defects of eyesight that cause persons so affected to write slanting the lines downward or upward.” “I presume,” interrupted the prosecuting attorney, “that defendant’s counsel proposes to prove that his client has the defect he mentions. 1 would call your honor's attention to the fact that the prisoner has a very beautiful pair of eyes. Indeed, I greatly fear that she is using them upon the jury with a view to securing her acquittal.” The accused’s counsel received In silence for a few moments this attempt to prejudice the court aud the jury against his client. Then he said: “The prosecuting attorney is mistaken, your honor. I am not intending to prove that my client has this especial defect. I would for her sake that it had pleased her Creator to give her this defect instead of the one with which she Is afflicted. Gentlemen of the jury, my client is unable to cast upon you glances calculated to excite your sympathy any more than she could have seen to write her name exactly on the line In that document, for she is stone blind.” The effect produced on the court by this announcement rendered any further process of law unnecessary. The jury without leaving their seats acquitted the accused, and I now knew why wffien she and her mother left the courtroom they went hand in hand. This Is but the beginning of a story i which 1 have been long and am still ply interested.

T Take a Boss. X If a man is unable to govern ~ T himself it is up to him to invest ’; X in a marriage license and sublet i ► T the job.—Chicago Journal. ’ [

THE RAILROAD BUSINESS. WHO gets down to the office late And then presides in gorgeous state And makes the proudest callers ; wait? The president. Who wears a diamond in his shirt That makes the very optics hurt? Who always is abrupt and curt? The general manager. Who makes you feel like thirty cents When you would ride without expense? Who has a turndown that’s immense? The general passenger agent. Who bores you through with haughty stare When you would travel anywhere And grabs the money for your fare? The ticket agent. Who takes your ticket with disdain And freezes you with might and main For daring to get in his train? The conductor. Who is the shaby old galoot Who wears a fourteen dollar suit And greets you with a kind salute? Oh. that’s only the old duffer who owns the railroad; that’s all! —Dallas Times-Herald. Mero Men’s Jokes on Women. “Why did you select Charles instead of George?’ asked Maude. “Well.” replied Maymie. “George said 1 had eyes like violets, cheeks like wild roses, shell-like ears and lips like cherries.” “Very pretty.” “Yes. But Charles said I had eyes like diamonds, teeth like pearls and Ups like rubies. It seemed to me that his ideas were much more practical.”— Washington Star. “My wife has just got her new fall bonnet.” “Sorry, old man. but I can’t spare a penny; I'm broke too.” —Houston Post. “Mother,” inquired the little Boston boy, “is a parasol a feminine umbrella?” “Why, you might call it that, Waldo.” “Well, was the first parasol made from an umbrella rib?”—Philadelphia Press.

Translated. A Harvard professor rises to remark that “syncopation in harmonization has no immoral connotation.” which, being roughly translated into idiomatic English, means. “Ragtime is de pure goods.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer.

Close. In the state of Georgia lives a banker who is known behind his back as “the human safety clutch.” He has been accused of being nearly everything except a spendthrift. He lives a mile from town on a plantation. One Sunday he remembered that he had left some important papers on his desk, and he gave an aged negro servitor on the place his keys and sent him for the documents. It was a hot day, and the road was dusty, but in an hour the old darky returned with the papers intact. The owner felt in all bis pockets. “That’s too bad. Uncle Jim.” he said finally; “I thought I had a nickel here I was going to give you.” “Marse Henry,” said Uncle Jim. “you look again. Es ever you had a nickel you got it yit.”—Saturday Evening Post. The Choice. Tom—Can he sing nicely? Dick—Well, he offered to sing the baby to sleep the other night, and his wife said, “No; let her keep on crying!”- New York Mail. So to Speak. “Wasn’t your town dry when I waa here a year ago? Seems like the lid is off now, all right” “Betcha! Us free an’ independent voters got busy last ’lection an’ broke that lid into a million smithereens.” “Ah. I see: converting it into a sort of granulated lid. so to speak!”—Chicago Record-Herald.

Necessary. If the economists have their way the only middleman to remain will be the chap who relays the jokes in the minstrel show.—Denver Republican.

Os Raai Importance. “I suppose now you wish to know if you are the first girt I ever kissed?” “No: I am interested in knowing if I will be the last.”—Houston Post. Qualified. Ryter—l’ve half a mind to write a popular novel. Crytic—Well, that’s as much as yon Mil need.—Milwaukee Sentinel. Woman’s Age. Indelicacy of mentioning t'he age of women is not a modern notion. Women are referred to in large numbers in the Old Testament, yet there was only one—Sarah. Abraham’s wife —whose age is recorded.

One evening in December a masked ball was in progress in the house of one of Charleston's most aristocratic citizens. Edmond Fitz Hugh, a young man who but a year before had by inheritance come Into the possession of a large plantation, was there, having left his, home to mingle with the gay doings of Charleston during the winter season. Before going to the ball he Had stumbled into an unpleasant affair.. His cousin, Arthur Trudeau, had that afternoon called upon him to be his second in an affair of honor which was to come off at daylight the next morning. Fitz Hugh, who had no stomatffi for such encounters, even though norhimself a principal, was obliged, therefore, to dance all night with women whose faces he could not see under the cloud of being obliged at the end to go out and assist a man to kill his adversary. While brooding over bis ill luck he caught sight of a woman's figure flit-

B /fl Baj \i/ I SHE RAISED THE MASK. ting through a doorway. She was dressed as Marguerite of Goethe's “Faust,” a becoming costume to any young woman, and her long hair, braided, hung nearly to the floor. On the principle that a vista Is more effective than an extended view the glimpse Fitz Hugh caught of this figure was more entrancing'than if he had been permitted to gaze upon it as long as he desired. He darted after Marguerite, reaching the opening through which she had passed just in time to see her pass another. Hurrying on, he found her chaffing one of her own sex, playfully tapping the other with her fan. When the two parted Fitz Hugh joined Marguerite. Now, it so happened |hat Fitz Hugh had chosen to personate Mephistopheles. The girl shrank away from him, feigning horror. “Don’t be afraid of me.” he said. “The devil is not always so bad as he is painted.” “For me he is worse.” “In this case I assure you his villainy is no deeper than his clothes.” “Even his clothes are tempting. Red and blaek is a charming combination. Besides, the costume is admirably adapted to show a handsome figure.” “You are quite apt at tossing compliments. I would remark that the character of Marguerite is especially fitted for the display of a wealth of hair.” ■“lf we keep on we shall entirely upset the plan of Goethe’s poem.” “How so?” “Marguerite will be falling in love with Mephlstopheles instead of Dr. Faustus.” “You mean she will bewitch the devil.” A merry burst of laughter greeted this sally.' Fitz Hugh offered bis arm to the girl, and they walked through the different rooms, occasionally dancing. Mephlstopheles’ attention to Marguerite excited much remark and a good deal of merriment, a number of jokes being cracked at the expense of one of the masqueraders who had taken the part of Faust. There was also a Valentine present, Valentine being the name in the poem of Mar guerite’s brother, whom Faust kills. This masked Valentine afforded much amusement by approaching Fitz Hugh and shaking his fist in his face, whereupon the latter told him that he was threatening the wrong man and had better go and find Faust. These pleasantries enabled Mephistopheles to retain the company of Marand so fascinated was he with her chat, or, rather, with her self—excepting her face, which he could not see—that at last he led her into a room where no one was present and begged her to give him at least a moment’s glimpse of her countenance. “Don’t you know.” she said, “that a homely woman may look entrancing with her face covered? All she needs is a good figure and to caper about mischievously.” “If I were to find you a gorgon I would”— “And. knowing you to be the devil, yet I cannot help”— £he finished .the

sentence with ringing laughter, whereupon he quoted the couplet: “A pretty woman with two black eyes Is the biggest devil among them all.” “Very well,” she said, “I will give you the glimpse you desire, but it will not be my fault if the image you have conjured up in your imagination is shattered.” “I’ll risk it,” he said. She raised her mask, displaying the prettiest, roguish face he had ever beheld. Fitz Hugh had thought that if he could see her face he would be satisfied. Now he burned to know who she was, for she pulled down her mask at once and was about to‘ruu away. But he stopped her. “Who are you?” he asked. "Marguerite.” * i“Your real name?” “I may have a purpose in showing my face to the devil and a purpose in not giving him my name. I have the experience of the real Marguerite before me.” However, Fitz Hugh begged so hard that she consented to write her name on a bit of paper, but pledged him not to look at it so long as the masquerade continued. Then she hurried away, saying that only their masks enabled them to be seen so long in each other’s company without remark. Fitz Hugh at once began to crave a sight at the name written on the paper she gave him. The masquerade continued till dawn, and he was then about to look at the name when he was summoned on that other duty which, In his affair of the heart, he had almost forgotten. No opportunity occurring to look at the paper, he crammed It back into his pocket and accompanied his cousin to the field. Fitz Hugh did not understand the cause of the fight. On the way to the ground Trudeau tried to explain it to him, but Fitz Hugh was dreaming of the masked beauty and did not hear half that he said. They found the principal of the other side and his second on the ground, and within a few minutes the firing distance had been paced and all was ready Jor the fight. Most of those present had been at the masquerade ball, but all had stopped on their way to the field to change their clothes. Trudeau’s opponent, Rutledge, was a handsome young fellow, but showed signs of dissipation. He was in a fierce temper with his enemy and with every one else for that matter. He took his position, muttering low curses that indicated a duel to the death. Trudeau was composed and gentlemanlike in his behavior. lie had been called to account for some fancied slight to Rutledge and was evidently Intending to stand up to be fired at without any design to injure his opponent. Fitz Hugh, who saw that Rutledge was bent on a bloody fight, warned his cousin that he must kill or be killed, but Trudeau shook his head as much as to say that he would rather risk death than have the blood of his antagonist on his hands. The two men stood facing each oth-

er till they received the signal, then fired, Trudeau a trifle before the other—who withheld his shot purposely—put ting a ball through a limb of a tree several yards above his opponent’s head. Then Rutledge took deliberate aim, fired, and Trudeau fell in a heap. Fitz Hugh was stung with indigna tion. “That was unfair,” he cried. “You think it unfair, do you?” snarled Rutledge. “You’ll give nje satisfaction for the imputation, and I'll put you where I put him.” “I’ll not give you a chance to murder me as you have murdered him with a pistol.” “Choose your weapon.” While this was going on the surgeon was examining Trudeau and pronounced him dead. Fitz Hugh heard it simultaneously with Rutledge’s last words. “I’ll fight you with tolls,” he said. “Done!” exclaimed the other. There were no foils at hand, and half an hour was consumed in obtaining them. Some thought that the party had better get away to avoid the authorities, but Rutledge would not hear of ft. So when the weapons were received the principals stood up and began to fence. Neither knew much about the use of the weapon he held, and Rutledge was under the Influence of liquor. They had fought but a few minutes when he made a lunge right on to the point of Fitz Hugh’s foil. • This cooled his opponent’s anger, who was horror stricken at the double tragedy. He waited eagerly for the surgeon’s report, which was the same as before. Rutledge had been pierced through a vital part. Fitz Hugh left the field with a heavy heart. An ides crept into his mind that the part of Mephlstopheles he had taken the night before had brought this tragedy. “Was he at the ball?” he asked on the way. “Yes; he took the part of Valentine tn Goethe’s ‘Faust.’ ” Fitz Hugh shuddered. When he got to his room he threw himself in a chair before a table and. bowing his head on his arms, sat shivering with horror. The night and the morning seemed like a dream—the beginning a delight, the ending a tragedy. His eousin had been murdered, and he had killed that cousin’s murderer. Suddenly he was stricken with another fear. Taking the bit of paper Marguerite had given him, he opened it and read, “Luella Rutledge.” He had killed her brother. Unique Poor Farm. Providence, R. 1., owns the most valuable municipal poor farm in the world. It is in the center of one of the most fashionable residential districts of the city, and the property is valued at $1,000,000. The farm is a bequest made by Ebenezer Dwight Dexter to the city in 1824, and none but those who once owned and paid taxes on real estate in providence or whose father or mother was a real estate taxpayer in that city will be admitted to the farm.—Boston Globe.