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Il'rcm the < limas*'
OLIVIA;
Tit DOCTOR'S TWO LOB!
BY THE AUTHOR OF
• Tin Si < 'ii''l Mrs. 7iHoto,>r, “ Xcrei
to,'joHen " Ef.
-
rail
i ft’ >. nxi.Kt>
y •• engagement to Julia cam** about so
ea***.- whl naturally that, as I said, 1 was
p, jf-' .tly contented with it We had been
euj-j .v.fj since the previous fbristmas. and
w*)’:‘ to lie married in th*- early summer, as
soot '-.v a trip through Switzerland would
bt agreeable. V- were to sot up house
k. u, for ourselves: that was a point
Julu. vos bout Mjwiu. A suitable house had
faPer. vacant in <*ue <f the higher streets
of St l’eter-]>ort, which commanded a no
hh view Of the sea and the surrounding
islui. I- We hud taken it. though it was
furtv from the Grange and my mother
th ,1 i -hon'd have chosen ray home to be.
Sr. .1 Julia -.etc bu->. pleasantly busy,
the furnishing.
\v,ei hud 1 seen my mother look so
b .j,: or so voum Kven my father paid
h : fouip'tniioit or two, which had the
. flea* of bringing - pretty pink blush to
ho white cheeks, anti of making her
snui en eyes shine. As to myself, 1 was
unie'lv happy without a doubt. Julia was
a -o and girl, everybody said that, and Julia
love : ltie devotedly. I was ou the point of
t>f • u ng master of a house and owner of a
■ < to I .' -rable income, for Julia wonld not
be, •• of there being any marriage settle
ri,fui,s which would secure to her the prop
erty Hiie was bringing to me. I found that
mat ng love, even to my cousin who was
lit s rister to me. was upon the whole a
pleasurable occupation. Everything was
joing on smoothly.
That was till about the middle of March.
1 lad been to church one Sunday morning
with these two women, both devoted to
me iad centering all their love and hopes
ic uie when, as wo entered the house on
no "’turn, I heard my father calling ' Mar
'ii ' Martin!' 1 as loudly as he could front
ius insulting loom. 1 answered the call
instantly, and whom should 1 see but ii
very old friend of mine, Tsrdif, of the
Haw- Oosselin. He was standing near
the door, as if iu too great a hurry to sil
down His handsome but weather-1 eaten
fact * -frayed great, anxiety, and bis shaggy
mustache rose- anil fell, as if the mouth be
low iv as tremulously at work. My father
looked chagrined and irresolute.
‘Here's a pretty piece of work. Martin,”
he s.iiu: “Tardif want -one of us to go back
wifi bini to Sink, to sc a woman who has
fal’-e from the cliffs ;ind broken her arm,
confound it. ’
'Tor the sake of the good God, Doctor
Martin,” cried Tardif. excitedly, speaking
in the Sark dialect, f beg of you to conic
this .instant even. She has been lying ir.
anguish since midday yesterday—twenty
fou- hours now, sir. I started at dawn this
morning, but both wind and tide were
against me, and i have been waiting here
houo' time, lie quick, Doctor. Mon Dieu’
if she should be dead!"
Th- poor fellow’s voice faltered, and his
eye* met mine imploringly. He and I had
bee fast friends iu my boyhood, when all
my holidays were spent in Sark, although
he was some years older than I, and oui
friendship was still firm and true, tliougl
it slackened a little from absence. I shook
his baud heartily, giving it a good hard grip
in token of my unaltered friendship—a
a gnp which ho returned with his fingers
of iron till my own tingled again.
“I knew you’d come.' he said.
"Ah, I’ll go, Tardif,” 1 said; “only I
*U t ge< a snatch of something to eat while
Doctor Dobree puts up what I shall have
need of. I'll be ready in half au hour.
Go into the kitchen and get some dinner
yourself. ’’
“Thank you. Doctor Martin,” he an
swer and. his voice still unsteady and his
mustache quivering; “but 1 can eat noth
ing, 111 go down and have the boat ready.
You’ll waste no time?”
' Not a moment,” I promised.
1 left my father to put up the things T
shoe I>l require, supposing he had heard all
the particulars of the accident from Tardif.
He was inclined to grumble a little at me
fo’ eo;ng; but I asked him what else 1
could have done. As he had no answer
ready to that question, I walked away to
th- dining-room, where my mother and
Jv.br were waiting; for dinner was ready,
as w- dined early on Sundays on account
ui tne servants. Julia was suffering from
the beginning of a bilious attack, to which
Hie was subject, and her eyes were heavy
an. dull. 1 told them hastily where 1 was
go ng, and what a hurry i was in.
ou are never going across to Sark to
dav she exclaimed.
v* hy not? ’ I asked, taking my seat ami
hr ipinh myself quickly.
“Because I am sure bad weather is com
ing she answered, looking anxiously
through a window facing the west. “I
could see the coast of lianco this morning
As j ainly as Sark, and the gulls are keep
ing lose to the shore, and the sunset last
night was threatening. 1 will go and look
ai tj e storm glass.”
cln went away, but came back again very
soon with an increase of anxiety in her
fa * Don't go. dear Martin,” she said
wi t her hand upon mv shoulder; “the
st ern.-glass i< as troubled as it can be, and
th*' wind is veering round to the west. You
!;• what that foretells at this time of the
yea There is a storm at hand; take my
word for it. and don’t venture across to
Sark to-day. *
And is to become of the poor
woman?” 1 remonstrated. “Tardif says
she has been suffering the pain of a broken
limb these twenty-four hours. It would
be my duty to go even if the storm were
here, unless the risk was exceedingly great
t ome. Julia, remember you are to be a
doctor s wife, and don’t be a coward.”
Don t go! she reiterated, “for my sake
and your mothers. I am certain some
trouble will come of it We shall bt
frightened to death; and this woman is
only a stranger to you. Oh. I cannot bear
to ’er you go!”
I lid not attempt to reason with her. for
1 knew of old that when Julia was bilious
and nervous she was quite deaf to reason.
1 only stroked the hand that lav on mv
shoulder, amt went on with my dinner as
if my life depended upon the sueed with
w iu. ii 1 dispatched it.
"1 ncle. ' she said, as my father cam* in
sir. partm&ntea -in his hand, “tell Mm .
tin he must uot go. There is > K re to be a
-'torn: to-night.”
‘ Pooh! pooh!" he answered. “I should
; - ?lad enough tor Martin to stay at home,
b.t there's no help for it. 1 suppose. There
and be no storm at present, and ihevll run
oross quickly. It will le the coming ba k
that will 1- difficult. lou ll scarcely get
-icn. again to-night. Martin
No, I said. “I ll stop at (-aver s, and
cine back in the Sark cutter if it has be
tfu:. to ply. If not. Tardif must bring me
over in tht morning.”
Don't go. " persisted Julia, as I thrust
aijs-lf into my rough pilot coat, and then
der. down to kiss her check. Julia always
presented me her cheek. and mv lips htd
ue~ v met hers yet. My mother was stand
ing ,y and looking tearful, but she did not
3 % vord: she knew there was no ques
tion about what I ought to Jo. Julia fol
lowed me to the door and held me fast
wi.n both hand-, round my arm, sobbing
hysterically, “Don't go.” Even when I had
released myself and was running down the
drive, 1 > ould hear her still catling “Oh
Martin, don’t go!”
I-asgl id to g-*t out of hearing. I felt
sorry for her. v : thete was a considerable
amount of pleasure iu being the object of
so mn h tender solicitude. 1 thought of
her for a niiutib or two as I hurried along
the steep) streets Lading down to the quay.
But the prospect before me caught my eye.
Opposite Lay Sark, bathed in sunlight, and
the sea between was calm enough at p*ies
ent. A ride across, with a westerly breeze
ffllin, th*- -ails, and the boat dancing
liirhtlv over ‘he waves, would not be a bad
i v-Lung* for a dull Sun-lay afternoon, with
Julia at th- t-unday-s- h >oi amt my mother
asleep. Besides it wa- the path of duty
w ho b was leading me across the quiet gray
sea before me.
Tardif was waiting, with his sails set and
oars in the row-locks, ready for clariug
the harbor. I took one of them, and bent
myself willingly to the light task. There
was le h wind than I had expected, but
what ther*- was blew in our favor. We
were very quickly beyond the pier-head,
where a group of idlers was always gath
ered, who sent after us a few warning
shouts. Nothin-T could be more exhilarat
ing than our onward progress. I felt as if
I had been a prisoner. with chains which
had pressed insensibily yet heavly upon
me, and that nov/ I was free. I drew into
my lungs the fresh, bracing, salt air of the
sea. w ith a deep sigh of delight.
It struck me after a while that my friend
Tardif was unusually silent. The shifting
of the sails appeared to give him plenty to
io; and to my surprise, instead of keeping
:o the ordinary course, he ran recklessly as
it seemed across the grunes, which lie all
about the bed of the channel between
Guernsey and Sark. These grunes are
i efs, rising a lit le above low water, but as
the tide was about half flood they were a
few feet below it; yet at times there was
-careelv enough depth to float us over
them, while the brown sea-weed torn from
their edges lay in our wake, something like
the swaths of grass iu a meadow after the
sickle has swept through it. "Now and
• hen came a bump and a scrape of the keel
i-ainst their sharp ridges.
The sweat stood in beads upon Tardifs
fare, and his thick hair fell forward ovei
his forehead, where the great veins in the
temples were purple and swollen. T spoke
to him after a heavier bump over the j ocks
than any we had yet come to.
“Tardif,” I said, “wfc are shaving no
weeds a little too close, aren’t we?”
“Look behind you. Dr. Martin,” he an
wered, shifting the sails a little.
I did look 1 chind us. We were more
ban half way over the channel, and Guern
,ey lay four miles or so west of us; but
.listen'd of the clear outline of the island
standing out against the sky, I could set
nothing but a bank of white fog. The
ifternoou sun was shining brightly over it.
but before long it would dip into its dense
folds.
The fogs about our islands are peculiar.
You may see them form apparently thick
blocks of blanched vapor, with a distinct
line between the atmosphere where the
Laze is and where it is not. To be over
tak- nby a fog like this, which would al
most,hide Tardif at one end of the boat
from me at the other, would be uo laugh
ing matter in a sea lined with sunken reefs
Ihe wind had almost gone, but a little
breeze still caught us from the north of the
fog-bank. Without a word 1 took the oars
again, while Tardif devoted himself to the
sails and the helm.
“A mile nearer home,” he said, “and I
could row my boat as easily in the dark as
yon could ride your horse aloag a lane.”
CHAPTER 11.
A SURPRISE.
My face kas turned westward now, and 1
kept my eye upon the fog-bank creeping
stealthily after us. I thought of my mothei
"id Julia, and the fright they would be in.
Moreover a fog like this was pretty often
succeeded by a squall, especially at this
season; and when a westerly gale" blew up
from the Atlantic in the month of March.
10 one could foretell when it would cease.
I had been weather-bound in Sark, w hen
a boy, for three weeks at a time, when pro
visions ran short, and it was almost impos
sible to buy a loaf of bread. I could not
help laughing at the recollection, but 1 kept
an anxious lookout toward the west.
Three weeks’ imprisonment in Sark now
would be a bore.
But the fog remained almost stalionan
in the front of Guernsey, and the round
red eye-ball of the sun glared after us as
we rau nearer and nearer to Hark. The
tide was with us, and carried us on
buoyantly. IVe anchored at the fisher
man's landing-place below the cliff of the
Havre Gosseliu, and 1 climbed readily up
the rough ladder which leads to the path.
Tardif made his boat secure and followed
me; he passed me and strode on up the
steep track to the summit of the cliff, as if
impatient to reach his home. It was then
that I gave my first serious thought to the
woman who had met with the accident.
“Tardif, who is this person that is hurt .' ’
f asked, ‘ and whereabout did she fall?”
’ Hhe fell down yonder,” he answered
with an odd quiver m his voice, as he
pointed to a rough and rather high portion
of the cliff 1 running inland: “ilie stones
rolled from under her feet so, he added,
crushing down a quantity of loose gravel
with his foot, "and she slipped. She lay
on the shingle underneath for two hours
before 1 found her two hours, Dr. Mar
tin!”
“That was bad, I said, for the good fel
low’s voice failed him —“very bad. A fall
like that might have killed her.”
We went on, he carrying his oars, and 1
my little portmanteau. I heard Tardif
muttering, "killed her! iu a tone of terror:
but his face brightened a little when we
reached the gate of the farm-yard. He
laid down the oars noiselessly upon the
narrow stone causeway before the door,
and lifted the latch as cautiously as if he
was afraid to disturb some sleeping baby
He had given me no information with
regard to my patient: aud the sole idea 1
had formed of her was of a strong
sturdy Hark woman, whose constitution
would be tough, and her temperament of a
stolid, phlegmatic lone. There was not
ordinarily much sickness among them, and
this case was evidently one of pure acci
dent. I expected to find a nut-brown, sun
burnt woman, with a rustic face, who would
probably be impatient and unreasonable
under the min 1 should be compelled to
hitlict upon her.
It had been my theory that a medical
man, being admitted to the highest degree
of intimacy with his patients, was bound to
be as insensible as an anchorite to any
beauty or homeliness iu those he was at
tending professionally: he should have
eyes only for the malady he came to con
sider and relieve. Doctor Dobree had often
sneered and made merry at my high-rlow:
notions of honor and duty: but in out
practice at home he Had. given me no op
portunities of trying them. He had at
euded ail our younger and more attractive
oatients himself, and had handed over tc
ay cire all tile old people and childreu—
ui Julia s account, he had said, laughing.
Tardif s mother came to us as we entered
behor.se She was a little ugly woman,
stow deaf as I knew of old. Yet in some
mysterious way .-he could make out he:
son’s u ep voice, w hen he shouted into hoi
ear. He did not speak now, however, but
made dumb signs as if jo ask how all wa
_oim. on. She answered by a silent nod,
and beckoned me to follow her int
in inner room, which opened out of tht
kitchen.
It was a smali crowded room, w ith a ceil
ing >o low. it seemed to rest upon the fotn
posts of the bedstead. There were ot
course none of the little dainty luxurie>
ibont it. with which I was fami iar in my
mother’s bed-room. A long low window
opposite : he head of the bed threw a strong
light upon it. There were cheek eurtain
drawn round it. and a patch-work quilt.
>nd rough, home-spun linen. Everything
was i ! ean, but coarse and frugal, such as I
t-xj <- tod to find about my Sark patient, iu
*hf home of a fisherman.
But when my eye- fell upon the fac.=
i■ -ting on the lough pillow 1 paused invol
untarily, only just controlling an exclama
tion of surprise. There was absolutely
nothing in the surroundings t.< mark her
is a lady, yet I felt in a icon, nt she was
one. There lava delicate refined fact.
• kite the liner, with beautiful iris al
most as white: aad a mass of light, shining
silky hair tossed about the pillow; and
large dark gray eyes gazing at me bes ech
ingly, with an expression that made my
heart leap as it had never leaped before.
That was what I saw, and could not for
bear -eeing. I tried to recall mv theory,
and to close my eyes to the pathetic be mtv
of the face before me; but >r was alto
gether in vain. If 1 had seen her l-efore,
or if I had been prepared to s-.-e any one
like her, I might have succeeded; bnt 1 was
completely thrown off my guard. There
the charming face lay: the eyes gleaming,
the whit ■ forehead tinted, and the d*-:i a’.e
month -ontrn-ting with pain: the bright
silky curls tossed about in confn* on. I
-ee it now, just as I saw- it then.
CHAPTER 111
WITHorr T RE souß- K-,
i suppose 1 did not stand still inoie than
tive second--, yet dur ug that ] a use a host
of questions had flashed through my brain.
Who was th s beautiful creature? Where
had she come from? How did it happen
that she was in Tardif’s house? and so ou.
But 1 recalled myself sharply to my senses.
I was here as tier physician, aud common
sense and du y demanded of me to keep
my head cleai.
I then advanced to Ler side, and took the
small, blue-veined hand into mine, and
felt her pulse with my fingers. It beat
under them a low but fast measure; too
fast by a great deal. I could see that the
general condition of her health was perfect,
u great charm in itself to me; bnt she had
been bearing great pain for over tweuty
| eight hours, and had become exhausted. A
i shudder ran through me at the thought of
tliat long spell of suffering.
“You are in very great pain, T fear.” I
said, lowering my voice.
" Yes,’’her white lips answered, and she
I tried to smile a } atieut though a dreary
j smile, as she looked up into my face; “my
uni is broken. Are you a doctor?”
“J. am Doctor Martin Dobree,” 1 said,
passing my hand softly down her arm.
The fracture was above the elbow, aud was
of a kind to make the setting of it give hei
sharp, acute pain. I could see she was
scarcely fit to bear any further pain just
then: but what was to be done? She was
not likely to get much rest till the bone
was set.
"Have you had much sleep since your
fall?” 1 asked, looking at the weariness vis
ible in her eyes.
“Not any,” she replied, “not a moment's
sleep.
“Did you have no sleep all nigli! .- ' I in
quired again.
“No,” she said, “I could not fall asleep.”
There were two things 1 could do give
her mi opiate, and strengthen her a little
with sleep beforehand, or administer chlo
roform to her before the operation. 1 hes
itated between the two. A natural sleep
would have done her a world of good, but
there was a gleam iu her eyes, and a fever
ish throb in her pulse, which gave me no
hope of that. Perhaps the chloroform, if
she had no objection to it, would answer
best.
“1 >iu you ever take chloroform? I asked,
“No. 1 never needed it,” she answered.
' Should you object to taking it?”
“Anything.” she replied passively. “I
will do anything you wish. ”
I went back into the kitchen and opened
the portmanteau my father hid put up for
me. Splints and bandages were there in
abundance, enough to set half the arms in
the island, but neither chloroform nor any
thing in the shape of an opiate could I find.
J might almost as well have come to Sark
altogether unprepared for my ease.
AVhat could I do? There are no shops
in Sark, and drugs of any kind w ere out of
the question. There was not a chance of
getting what I needed to calm and soothe a
highly nervous and finely sirring tempera
ment like my patient’s. A few minutes
ago I had hesitated about using chloro
form. Now I would have given half of
everything I possessed in the world for an
ounce of it. \
I said nothing to Tardif, who was watch
ing me with his deep set eyes, as closely
as if I was meddling with some precious
possession of his own. I laid the bundles
of splints and rolls of linen down on the
table with a professional air, while 1 was
inwardly execrating my father's negligence.
I emptied the portm uite m in the hope >f
finding some small phial or box Anv
opiate would have been welcome to me
that would have dulled those overwrought
nerves. But the practice of using anything
of the kind was not in favor with us gen
erally in the Channel Islands, and my fa
ther had probably concluded that a Sark
woman w ould not consent to use them. At
any rate, there they were not.
I stood for a few minutes, deep iu
thought. The daylight was going, and is,
was useless to waste time; yet I found my
self shrinking oddly from the duty before
•ne. Tardif could not help but see my
chagrin and hesitation.
“Doctor,” he cried,' she is not going to
die?'
“No, no,” I answered, calling back my
wandering thoughts and energies; “there is
uot the smallest danger of that. I must
go aud set her arm at once and then she
vill sleep. ”
I returned to (he room, anil raised her as
gently and painlessly as 1 could, motioning
to the old woman to sit beside her on the
bed and hold her steadily. 1 thought, once
of tailing in Tardif to support her w ith his
strong frame, but J did uot.
She moaned, though very softly, when I
moved her, and she tried to smile again as
her eyes met mine looking anxiously at hey
That smile made mo feel like a child. It
she did it ag 1 knew my hands would be
unsteady, and her pain be tenfold greater.
" I would rather you cried out or shouted, ”
I said. Don’t try to control yourself when
I hurt you. You need not Ire afraid o*
seeming impatient, and a loud scream or
two would do you good."
But I knew quite well as ! spoke that
she would never scream aloud. There was
the self-control of culture about Lei. a
woman of a lower class might shriek and
cry. but this girl would try to smile at the
moment when the pain was keenest. The
white round arm under my hands was cold,
and the muscles were soft and unstrung.
i felt the ends of the broken bone grat
ing together as 1 drew them into their
light places, and (he sensation went through
me. J had set scores of broken limbs be
fore with no feeling like this, which was
so near unnerving me. But I kept my
hands steady and my attention lived upon
iuy work. I felt like two persons—a sur
geon who had a simple scientific operation
to perform, and a mother who feels in hex
own person every pang her child has ti.
suffer.
All the time the girl's white face and
firmly set lips lay under my gaze, vrh the
vide open, unflinching eyes looking straight
ar me; a mournful, silent, appealing face,
which betrayed the pain I made her suffer
• “ii time- more than any cries or shrieks
•ould have done. I thanked God in my
heart when u was over and i could lay her
do\\,n again. 1 smoothed the coarse pil
* >w- for he: to lie more comfortably upo.i
them. and I spread my cambric handker
chief in a double fold between her cheek
and the rough linen—too rough for a soft
•lieek like hers.
"Lie quite still." 1 said. "Do not stir
but go ro sleep as fust as yen can.
Si.c -'.is no; smiling now, and she did
not -peak: I ut the gleam in her eyes was
growing wilder, and she looked at me with
a wandering expression. It sleep* did not
tcm every soon there would be mischief.
I drew the curtains across the window to
shut out the twilight, and motioned to the
old woman to -it quietly by the side of otir
patient
Then I went out to Tardif.
He had not stirred from the place and
position in which I had lyft him. lam
sure no sound could have reached him
from the inner room, for we had been so
still that during the whole time I could
hear the beat of the efi dashing up between
the- high cliffs of Havre Gossehn. Tp and
down went Tardif s shaggy mustache, the
surest indication of emotkn with him. and
he fetched his breath almost with a sob.
“Weil, Doctor Martin-” was all he said.
“The arm is set,'' I answered, “and now
she must get some sleep*. There is not the
least danger, only we will keep the house
as ou'.et as possible-”
“I must go and bring in ih a boa',” he
replied, bestirring himself as if som • spell
was at an end. “There will be a storm to
uisrhl, and 1 should sleep the sounder it
she w;s safe ashore. '
111 com*- with you.” 1 said, glad to get
away fioui the sea-weed fire.
It was not quite dark, and the cliffs stood
out against ih - sky in odder and more gro
tesque shapes than by daylight. A host of
sea-mew* were fluttering about and utter
ing the most unearthly Lootings, but the
sea was as yet quite calm, save where it
broke in wavering, serpentine lines o\e-i
the submerged reefs which encircled the
island. The tidal current was pouring
rapidly through the very narrow channel
between barkaudthe little isle of Breckhon,
aud its ed.lits stretching to us made it rather
an arduous task to get Tardif s boat on
shore safely. But the work was pleasant
just then. It kept our minds away from
useless anxieties about the girl. An hour
passed qniek'y, and up the ravine, in the
deep gloom of the overhanging rocks, w e
ma*le our way homeward.
“ You will not quit the island to-morrow.
Doctor,” said Tardif. standing at his door,
xnd scanning the sky with his keen, weath
erwise eyes.
“1 must, ' I answered: “I must, indeed,
old fellow. You are no land lubber, and
you will run me over in the morning.
“No boat will leave Sark to-morrow,’
said Tardif, shaking his head.
We went iu, and he threw off his jacket
and rolled up his sleeves preparatory to fry
ing some ffsh for supper. 1 was beginning
to feel ravenously hungry, for I had eaten
nothing since dinner, and, as far ns I knew
Tardif had had nothing since his earl}
breakfast, but as a fisherman he was usee
to long spells of fasting. While he was
busy eookiug, I stole quietly into the innei
room to look at my patient.
-TO UK CoXiiNUKD. I
A City of Magnificent K'lins.
A correspondent of the London Thnn
who accompanied the expedition to Bur
tnali, writes as follow,-: \\r sighted the
ruins of Pagan early ou tlic 23d. These
remarkable ruins extend for more than
| tight miles along the eastern bank of the
Irrawaddy, and average two miles in
breadth. In this space there are the re
mains of between 1)0(1 and 1.000 temples
aud pagoda-f some of them in tolerabb
. preservation, and many of them of great
six and magtiilieenrc. The site of the
fit\ i- covered with jungle, and the vast
ass Tab!age of buildings towering above
the surrounding trees, and stretchiug as
; ler ?i* the t y; can reach, is singularly im
: p’.'s-ivr. The oldest of the Pagan tem
ples an* 'Upposed to data from about the
yearShO, and th..* city reached the /,cn!t!i
of it-- jmwer and prosperity about the
! time of the Norman conquest of England,
jln 1824 the city was almost completely
i destroyed during the Chinese invasion ol
Burundi. Then the king of Pagan pulled
j down an enormous number of temples—
; some chronicles state as many as 4,000
and used the materials in strengthening
the ramparts of the city. When the in
vaders captured it they completed the
destruction. Perhaps the most remarka
ble of the great temples in Pagan is the
Ananda, which is still used as a place of
worship. In plan it is a square of ‘>oo
leet to the side, broken on each side bv
the projection of large gable vestibules,
which convert the plan into an almost per
fect Greek cross. 'The central pinnacle
reaches to the height of 168 feet. Anoth
er of the great temples of Pagan is the
Thapiuvu, the spire of which rises to the
height of 201 feet above the ground and
overtops all the other monuments. The
Gauda Palon temple, dating from 1160.
rises to a height of 180 feet. Being near
er the river than either the Ananda or
Thapanyu it is very conspicuous when ap
proaching Pagan, as we did. from the
southward. Gleaming in its white plas
ter, with numerous pinnacles and a tall,
central spire, it seemed, when we first
sighted it, like a distant glimpse of Milan
cathedral. Many of the ruins at Pagan
are so unlike all other Burmese buildings
that it. has been suggested by some author
ities that these buildings are due to the
skill of a western C’hristain or missionary.
How Gotham Grows.
Considering that last year was not one
of the best for money making. New York
did pretty well in that line, having laid
up S‘j7,OO : J.OOO or so by increase in the
value of real estate. The gain was
greater in some previous years, but $37,
000,000 is not bad for dull times. There
does not seem to be much danger of Chi
cago getting ahead of Gotham just yet,
except in miscellaneous cussedness, and
New York threw up the sponge in tint
matter Some time ago. There has lately
been some random talk about Chicago ul
timately taking away the bulk of the dry
goods trade from both New York and
Boston, but dry goods men in both cities
say it is all fool-talk and that the trade
increases in each city every year. The
steady and rapid growth of New York is
not fully known even by NYw Yorker
themselves. Very few of them have any
idea of how fast the 'new part of the city,
the section north of the Harlem river, is
tiiling up, That section i- about as large
as the original Manhattan Bland, and
much of ir is now as closely built as liar
>mw as ten years ago. As for increase
of population that does not stop a
moment. Not from the Old World only,
but from all parts ot the New World, the
stream of humanity flows steadily into
\Y-w York, and ai! the probabilities arc
that it will keep on doing -o while there
is room to spread. Home enthusiasts
about the future say there will be a plan
someday to arch over the East river. Lay
out ->rcct- and build houses on a vast
structure supported by piers and cables,
to the Brooklyn bridge is, without inter
fering with navigation, and make Xew
York. Brooklyn and Long Island City a
single city, the largest in the world. This
may seem a bare-brained notion, but so
did the Brooklyn bridge when it was first
proposed- And if a man had said twenty
years ago that families would now be liv
ing on the top floors of ten-story build
ing- h- would have been called a fool.—
fj' V- ,i Tirr/ts.
.t Busy Day in Kentucky.
'My dear. " said a lady to her husband,
1 Hen ueky sheriff, "‘can't you make a
le w r ails with me this afternoon?”
“Oh. no indeed,” he replied. ' Yon
forget that Friday is mv busvdav.”
A BIG HAI L
A TRAMP FINDS 5*4.000 WORTH
OF DIAMONDS.
Picking L'p a Daily’s Dost Rein .
Filled with Flashing Jewels
—The Heavy Reward which
he Obtained.
Oue day after I had been hanging
around for several weeks as a gentleman
of leisure, says a tramp in the Detroit
Free Press, a policeman ran mein as a va
grant. Next morning the judge heard
my story and asked:
••Are you a good traveler; - ’
“Splendid.”
“Do you want to travel?'’
“I do.”
“Then you shall have an opportunity.”
I had heard a good deal about Detroit
and its kindness to tramps, and when '
left Chicago Ihe rded for the East. Be
fore getting clear of the city I stole a
copy of the morning paper off a door-step
and after a walk of three hours I sat
down to post up. Some tramps don't
care for the news of the day, but 1 have
always felt it to be my duty to look over
the dailies whenever I had a chance, and
to read every line of them, from congres
sional proceedings to advertisements. It
so happened that one of the first tilings
in this paper to attract my attention was
the following:
•‘Three thousand dollars reward—Lost, on
the 13th instant, from a window of a coach
on the Michigan Centra!, west of Pullman, a
reticule containing diamonds. The finder
will receive the above reward. Communi
cate with A. 8.. Room 1!’?. Palmer House.
Chicago.”
This was the 18th. Five day- had
elapsed since the 10-s, and it was prob
able that a dozen J eople had been sent to
search over every rod of tire track. L had
no more idea of finding that treasure
than you have of flying, but as 1 con
tinued my way up the track 1 kept my
eyes peeled.
L put in five miles of walking and then
sat down to rest again. It was midsum
mer. and my old boots distressed my feet.
1 came to a spot where a small creek was
crossed by the tracks, and 1 followed it
down to the fence to find a place to wash
my feet. Just at the fence was a deep
hole and a shady spot, and I tell you it
did my old feet good to sit there
and paddle the soft and cooling
waters. 1 had been there twenty
minutes when a bird flew down on the
fence and hoppe 1 from that to a
stick of drift wood to secure a drink. I
was sitting stiff as a stone, not wanting
to alarm him, when all of a sudden my
eye fell upon that lost lady’s reticule. It
was jammed among n lot of light drift
wood held against the fence. I wasn't
half a minute getting possession of it.
The bag was’providcd with a lock, andl
out with my knife and cut a hole in it.
Out fell the diamonds —rings, pins,brace
lets, studs and a gold watch set with
flashing stones. 1 could hold all in one
hand, and Jcrusha! but didn’t the stones
sparkle and flash and shimmer and bring
my heart up into my throat! I sat there
for ten minutes without daring to move,
for fear those sparklers would suddenly
disappear, but by and by my nerve came
back ami 1 made up my mind what to do.
I had never though of appropriating the
jewels to my own use, but was in a hurry
to return to ( liicago.
I wrapped the reticule up in the paper,
put the diamonds in my pocket, and at H
o’clock that night I was in front of the
Palmer house. I was about to enter when
a hand was laid on my shoulder and a
gruff voice called out:
“Now, then, what are you trying to
get away with?”
II was a police man. and he had spotted
me for a thief.
“I’m carrying a parcel to a gentleman
in here.” 1 replied.
“Oh! you are! Who might it be?”
“His name is Brown.”
“Oh! it is. Come along, my fine fel
low.”
“His name is Brown, and his room is
112. Come in with me. If I have lied
to you you can take me iu.”
He hesitated for a moment and then
entered the hotel with me. As we reached
the desk he asked of the clerk ;
“Does a Mr. Brown occupy 112.”
“No, sir,” was the reply.
“Now. you rascal, come along,”
growled th" officer, as he seized my
arm.
“It's the A. B. of room 112 who lost
the diamonds !’’ I shouted to tlie clerk as
f was being dragged away.
“Here-—wait! What do you know of
he diamonds?”
“Here’s the reticule, sir. aud T have the
jewels in nn pocket, i found them
along the railroad track.”
Well, you ought to see how mad that
policeman was, and how glad A. 15. was.
and how tickled I was when,§3,ooo was
counted into my hands. I went out of the
tramping business aud started a shop, but
at. the end of two years was cleaned out.
by the hard times and bad to go back to
Foot <fc Walker’s line again. I'm there
v et. and. if this bit of adventure, scribbled
off in a tramp's lodging on a rainy after
noon. is worthy of publication, give it a
place. — Detroit. Free Press.
Profiting by Experience.
The honest literalness of some very
sensible people is often decidedly amus
ing. The following joke, coming from
the Chinese, proves that our friends at
the antipodes are tiekled by the sam<
straws which excite our mirth:
“Come home to dinner!” cried a house
wife to her husband, who was at work in
h field.'’
“All right?” he shouted: “as soon as I
have hidden my hoe.’’
At dinner, his wife remonstrated with
him for proclaiming his affairs so loudly.
“I am certain.” said she, “that the
neighbors have heard you, and someone
has already stolen it.”
Struck with the remark, the man re
turned to the field to find that the hoc
was surely gone. On going back to tlie
house, impressed by the w isdom of her
previous caution, lit whi-pered in his
wife’s ear:
••The hoe is stolen!’’
V Valuable Mocking Bird.
Henry Durand 1 a a mocking bird tha
is known from Jacksonville to Boston.
The bird is probably the fine-t singer in
the South. He i- not only a fine singer
but a valuable adjunct to a restaurant.
The bird seems to know when the dining
room is filled with human tenant-, and
upon such occasions he will open hi
mouth and imitate a spring chicken.
The imitation is perfect, and unless some
cue happens to spy the bird and point
him out. everybody will begin to look
about for the coop of spring chickens.
The bird generally keeps up the imitation
until th*- cry of the spring chicken so
-harpens the appetite of the tourist that
he orders one. Out of season, a -pring
chicken comes high, and when the tour
ist has paid his bill and gone the bird is
given a fresh potato.— Atlar ta Const>tu-
GEM DRUG STORE
Desiies to inform the publi * that it i- >tb! keeping a large, uieelv assorted stiß’H <*i
-fags. Perfumery, Paienl Medicines. Soap. Hair Brushes, Comhs.
Face Powders,
nod everything else usually kept in a well arranged DRUG STOKE. A!.-.*
tne most complete line of
STATIONERY AND VISITING CARDS
both plain and fancy, combining the latest stylos m the eitv
OUR PRESCRIPTION DEPARTMENT
is as heretofore under the charge of
MB, C 3-. IMI. bockwbll,
- McMs sufficient guarantee of neatness and care being exercised in that liu*
*■ ai 1 and see them.
THURMAN & MURPHEY, Proprietory
< qaeu Suuday from 8 to 10 a. in.
WE HAVE ON HAND
For Sale, at Popular Prices, Ready to Ship! ®
- New 12 H. P. Return Tubular Brilevs j I >0 H, P. Automatic Engine.
;; f. ;; ;; */ ;• > •• - •• on l*.-
' <( “ ‘ ( ‘ " I motive Boiler.
, ° 1 ‘ “ I1 12 “ Center Crank on Loco. Boilor
2d-hand DH.T. “ “ “ 112 “ Stationary Engine
I “ “ Upright Engine. J 1 20 “ “ ’
* ” “ 11 <> “ 2d hand Portable
Al.sO—
A 1 u!l I.ine of Engine Trimmings, Wrought Iron Pipe, I’.|>e Fittings. Rioms
Yalves, Lubricators, Saws. Belting, Emery Wheels, etc., etc.
ALL KINDS CASTINGS AND MACHINERY MANUFACTURED.
Aud special attention paid to REPAIRS OF MACHINERY “Hancock’s Tn
sp. rat ora and North American Injector- are the best Boiler Feeder-on the market.
We are General Agents for their sale.
J. S. SCHOFIELD & SON. M SCOll| Cd>
THE FARMER'S KEY TO SUCCESS
Farmers sav it is just what they have been lookitm for e\er -iuee the war.
THE BOSS OF ALL CRUSHERS!
n.v which farmers can make their own lertilizers, grind -teamed hone, phosphate,
mid land plaster rock, marl, cotton seed, drv stable manure, corn and cob for stock
food, or
ANYTHING THAT IS GRINDABLE!
It will make good corn meal when you can’t do any better. By it- use the farm
er will grow rich instead of poorer all the time.
SEND FOR CIRCULARS, giving fall particulars; also st wonld like
circulars of the DeLoach WATER WHEEL, Portable Mills, etc. WV sell Portable
Mills as low as $80; guaranteed to make good meal.
A. A. DeLOACH & BRO.,
In writing mention this paper. ATLANTA, GEORGLV.
Engines, Saw Mills. Cotton Gins, etc., at low prices, especialllv Engine**
INSURE IN THE
EGUITABLE
Life Assurance Society
NEW YORK.
The Strongest and Most Reliable in the World I
At SETS December, 31, ]SBf>, §<;0.G.>3,35“.&0
INCREASE OF SURPLUS IN 1883 3,378.022.03
INCREASE OF ASSETS IN 188 G 8.391.461.06
This company issues Polices upon all the various Plans with Ton!in**- 10. 1” and 2®
•. ears including the Unrestricted Tontine, upon the best terms of an v tir-t * las- company.
H. HORNE,
Agent a'. Macon. Georgia.
GHAS. J. WILLIAMSON,
f bl(s Soliciting Agent, Proetor Hons**, Forsyth, G.v
Empire
Drop
Wheel
Planter.
E. M. DREWRY, Griffin. Ga.
Opposite If. \V Patterson.
D. J. PROCTOR, Agt., Forsyth, Ca.
M. L. MUNGER,
PIANOS ANDJIRGANS!
Tfcl.'l : : e flint lillliMl
A large and eomr-lete stock of Instruments of all styles constantly on hand, at very
moderate prices for t A.rH OR ON HONG TI.Mt,
It is follv to pay high prices for Infer! u Instrument- when you can get the VERY
BEST here for less money. Catalogue? IT ices and Particulars sent to any udd-e*s.
Ccrrespondencc solicited.
Call at Masonic Temple, 9€ Muiherrv -t.-e-t. or addre,-
M. L. MUNGER. Macon, Ga.