Newspaper Page Text
>1MY. SEPTEMBER 9.
MACON, OA„ WEDNESDAY MORNING. SEPTEMBER B. 1891.
THE CONSOLATIONS OP ART.
Eroe«t Rhji, in Macmillan's Magazine.
I •h*»w Udees. * Bd ,hadow li «*
I ruJ* 1st* the (t BU Uour
I fue l great an<1 wso#d before men's eyeej
|in,l M«sw*fd I. * J U blooding thought
I w . r t that bravcl) comes to flower
■ * 4 n 4 soon la naught
1 of art remembering well
I p>« hopes It care, that ettll up-ioared.
j » jton * by on# dstseied fell.
I -.,t out eternally from hearen.
Itije tboae loat angels that their tord
1 ‘ From grace had driven.
*o mored. to royal Westminster
Batimes I oome. and gladly find
now stately churchea towering there,
irkute walls that Milton saw. we see:
ih were, I cried, like these my mind I
Great praise might be.
| Were strength like theirs that hold the night
With solemn watch ugh London sleep.
To arm my soul w tdfast might,
Theu fear might ei hope be sure,
Conld I like them u it keep.
L;k .em endure. *
But they were built 'twist hope and fear
Br men who took the peaslng day.
And girt its moment? heerenl* wear:
Though they who built are darkly gone
Their art remains, and in it they
Are greatly known.
So art la frail, but art la strong:
And be is wise who keeps ths way
Hla soul shall lead, and sings hfs song,
Oi b'ds deid stone take life and climb—
So yields his service lor a day,
Or for all time.
A Dead Hand.
was the dreary dripping of some scoundrel who hod brought her to
tuiumn rain; the fitful toughing of the this, Perhaps, if she had to choose
ri0 (L again—but neither could venture to
The river. upon which the evening think of this.
wooded dark sud chill, rushed iwoii n *‘1 cat's bear to leavt you htrt alone.'
ind foam flecked beneath the garden he said, aa he rose at last to go. "it’s
link, filling the Jmikna with strung# #urh n inoeir, dreary place." He •top-
eeri# noise*, suggesting pa*sion*eboked pod tor a second, turning hit head to the
voices, now rising into angry threaten- rainswept window, »• if to listen. The
legs, now dying away into sobbing mar- bliode were not \ ot drawn; hut the even*
muringa • ing was so dark that he could see noto-
l'bs boast wet shut in by a belt of j ing on the terrace outside. It wnsonly
trees It had a lonely look in the full the rttetle of the bare creepers against 'ha
glory of summer leaf nod aunsbine, lint • pane ae the wind caught them. "I think
io autumn ami wiutertbc memory of the you ought f« hnv» the sbuttera do*ed,"
dark mystery that clung to it teemed to he laid, uneaiily, turning to her strain,
brood over it. deepening its gloom and . "Those French windows aren't safe."
intensifying its stillness and sadness. | "I’m not afraid of burglars," she said.
Tears ago a bride of n few weeks hid trying to laugh. Even before him eiie
been brought by her husk *n<l to thie could not lay bare all the dreariness «-f
house as her home. They had apparently her life, and the unhappy marriage had
bten the moet happy and devoted of aoarcrly been touched on. <a l have noth*
con pit's. Rut one night when the young ing valuable."
—* "• J *.•- - doll old hole," he said, not
But it
wishing to frighten her. but still think
ing with a curious chill of the step* i>y
the boathouse, leading from the garden
down to the river. Suppose anyone
should steal into the garden by that way.
as it was whispered had iw»<*n dons once
before and come— “And yon haven’t
half enough servants in the bouse.
Murphy isn’t much use.”
“Poor old Murphy! He ian't much
use. certainly, though lie would die to
eave roe. Do you remember how you and
I used to take advantage of bis ’ devo
tion—" she checked the reminiscent
of those o.'d happy days. Something i
Capt. Hease tine s 'eyes told her that it
might be dangerous for them both. “But,"
with a alight impatience born of that
consciousness “he is ai rong enough t< • pro
tect me from eny possible danger here.
There are only the ghosts, and they
aren't a very sutwtantial peril," forcing a
laugh again. “I couldn’t get any more
■ervanis to stay if I wanted them ever to
much, i brought down four, and two of
the maids left a week ago. foolish
things. Some one had tola them the
•lory,"
“flo you only have Morphy and Wes
ton herel" in dismay,
Two new servants are coming to
morrow, and I have done very well. Yon
know what Weston is. She ie aa faith
ful os Murphy. You needn't be afraid
for me, Tom. with them to look after me;
and you know i don't believe In ghosts."
With that strange reluctance still at
hla heart, Capt. Ileaseltina held out his
band. The room wa« full of soft light.
A shaded lamp burned on the t.ble near
them. A great wood fire crackled and
sparkled on (he tiled hearth. The room
was dainty and cozy enough, looking ail
the more luxurious from the coutrast of
the chill, wet darkneso outai<
Bui be could not help thinking of that
other young wife, who had aat there
rending one auch wild uighl aa this. He
forgot that he wna holding her hnnd, aa
hi looked down earnestly Into her face.
•• Promise me tbi>," he said, “that you
will have those shutters put up the in-
s.aui I have gone, i wish you would let
uiv ilug for Murphy to do it now. You
will be having the windows blown in
with thia wind. Do you promise, me,
dear?" The old word of boyish affection
slipped out unawares.
But the instant they hsard it thair
hands fall apart, and a faw momenta later
he was driving away from the house
toward the station, where be was to take
the train back to London.
But aa he drove throuih the deiotafe,
windy darkness, his thoughts would re
turn to the Kivar House.
'Though! don’t know what I am wor
rying about," be said, with a kind of
savage impatience, for bis heart waa
burning and aching within him for the
misery of the woman he loved, “Dave-
reux is starting for Faria tonight, and he
told Johnstone that he shouldn’t come
back to England tor some months. She's
safe enough; but I wish she weren't there
alone in that ghoet-bauntad, lonely old
houses
CHAPTER IL
Perhaps fleeaeltine had alarmed her
with hta anxious precautions. Perhaps,
though ahe had nsvar uttered it to her
self, the story of the tragedy-shadowed
bouae oppressed her.
At any rate, that night whan Lady
Devereux went up to bed through the
ellent hou«©, ahe waa conscious of a
vague, expectant foreboding, which
made tier strangely nervous
The Bight outside was full of the voices
of the wind and rain and river, and the
blackness of its darkness seemed to add
to tho w ildness of their noises.
She wished she had allowed Weston to
sleep in ths room near hers, sa Weston
had o(feted to do. when her own maid
bad taken fright and left the house.
Weston was sleeping now in the servants.
? uartera at the other cud of the house,
t would tahe some minutes for her to
get to her mistress, it she were wanted.
Half ashamed at her own fears, and yet
stopping everv now and then, as shs pr#«
him when he relied. She kuew that he I pared for bed, to listen—as Capt. Heasel-
"se overladen with .teht. and that he tine bad? listened down stairs in the
only wiiihed to extort mo* ev from her to 1 drawing room—she could not help no
squander on hie vices ami follies. I ticinghow silent and lonely that wing of
but there was one acquaintance of the house seemed. All sort# of odd f sa
ber’* who was haunted by a darker fear, cits came to her. She found herself once
though he scarcely shaped it to himaeir. j or twloe starting and turning quickly to
Ha bad returned to England with hie reg- look toward the cloeed door, as If she bad
inset • tuwnib age, a'-cr having to#n ! caught the eonnd of stealthy opening
absent eobie year*. IU had beard in j bheacarcely knew what ah# ex pec tad to
India vague rumors of Lord Devereux’s! see—an earthly or a ghostly apparition,
conduct Since hie return he had leers-1 And when she brushed her hair before
•d all ik« details He knew what man- | the tall, dark-framed mirror a strange,
nsr of man he waa when his evil passions 1 cold chill touched her as she thought of
were fullv atouied. He had come down the dead wife who had once stood before
to River house to call • n I-viv Dover- it as she wa* doing now. What if her
tux, and to offer tho help In which she face should suddenly look at her from out
was in so great need. TnIs was the first of its deapths! Shs turned sharply. Bat
time they had met since he had ex- j there was no one tohind her mockingly
changed Into a regiment abroad three or ; peering over her shoulder into the mir*
four years ago. Perhaps both, though ror.
they met aa mere friends, thought of She fought hard against all theseliair
that time and of the fatal mistake ehe i superstitious half real fears. The lock
had made in rejecting the man who had I of rhe door leading on to tho l.mdiag
lcved her faithfully since they had been • had gone wrong, out ait# resisted the In
boy an^ girl together, to marry the hands clinaticn she had of barricading the
husband waa in tow n, having Lee a called
o London on some important business, a
| tetribls event took place.
Early in tho morning the yonng wife
• found lying on her bedroom floor,
her throat cut from car to ear. She was
•till dressed in tbs white dinner UreiS
r e had worn the evening beiore. An
Oriental, sham-edged dagger, often
used l>y herself as n paper cutter, lay
under her right hand, which was cot*
•red with blool, while a deep gash
crossed the palm and lingers. There
were no tracts of a p- aaible murderer.
Norhing had b-eq touched, either in the
room uor on bar person. On her fingor
was stilt a valuable ring, which she
always wore—e gift of hor husband.
Ai> appaicbi’y, pointed to suicide.
Than-were, however, one or two curl*
ous facta On the door of the bedroom
just above the lock—a# if some one with
blood stainrd ilogi-rs had grasped it—
was ti e mark of a hand, while down
stair* In the drawing room was an over
turned chair, and nnder it the book
which the poor girl had been reading
after dinner. Some fancied that she had
been attacked down fairs, and had tied
apto her ro>m, fliuging open the ooor
•riiuher whuuded hand, only to hoover-
taken at the spot where they found her
lying. Tho expression of a onized terror
on her face, even after death, confirmed
this theory.
But after much conjecture and discus
sion a verdict of suicide was brought in.
It transpired at the inquest that (hers
was insanity in tho family, and that in
more than one member of it it had taken
this form of suicide.
Herbert Sinclair waa broken-henrted.
He abut up tha place and went abroad;
oor diii lie over return to it again, soiling
-t as soon as he had an ofier for it. A
ew months after the death of hia wife —
rom whom he had inherited a handsome
fortune— be married again.
Ti*e second marriage turned out a mis
erable one. Strange rumore concerning
the In ure, too, togsn to circulate in the
neighborhood. No one would slay in it
jng. People who occupied il declared
that the dead wife haunted it. At last,
the man who had nought it cuuM And
no tenant for it: and it had stood empty
for years, when a lady, to whom it had
p&Mrd by inheritance, came to live in it.
It was the vory last kind of retreat a
woman, aliil young and beautiful, who
had been ono of the most brilliant mom-
hen of ths fashionable world, would
bate been expected to choose. But, at
tho end of tbe last London season, Lady
Davaroux had made tbe bitterest discov
ery a woman oan make, Ths man she
loved sod married had married her ouly
for her money—and ho loved another
woman.
During ths two years of her married
life L*iy Devereux had slowly awakened
to the fact that her hushand waa a heart-
les», tin; rinotpled spendthrift. Most of
her fortune had been squandered by him;
yet she Lad uttered no word of complaint
or reproach, hoping always that she
might win him back from hla ever>in-
erresing harshness and neglect to tho
tenderness ah# a till b#U#vsd he had one#
fait for her.
Then ahe discovered tho truth. H#
hid lied whon ho told her that b* loved
hor.
Thors wns the other woman
Lady Devsrsux waa not one to forglv#
thia. Tnore was a terrible scene between
them, and then she left bin. and cc^na
down to this louoly retreat, to stay till th#
bittornoes and shame of thia new discov
ery had softened a little. Bho w as mistress
•till of a portion of her fortune, though,
owing to a rather eccentric will of a re
lation, who had been as much deceived
in tard Deveteux os the herself had been,
it was arranged that if she died first and
Mt no children it waa to pass to him.
Kha had no children, and her life alone
stood between him and the money which,
*• sho knew, his extravagant, heartless
ns turo coveted
Lady Deverena had been at the River
House for two m:n*ha. Her husband
had made out or two attempts to see her,
[ ul ahe refused to meet him or to admit
door, taking herself to task indignantly
for her cowardice. But sho co.ild not
resist the temptation to leave a dint light
burning in tho room. And whon she
pas*ed the other door of the room shs
tried it to see if it were locked. This
door led into a dressing room in which
she was now keeping a part of her ward
robe.
Tbe door was locked, the key being
la it.
She fell seleep at last
But it was a sleep haunted by broken
fragments of dfeauia, iu which tho dttjf
wh<*n aha aud Capt. Uesseltine were boy
and girl together mingled in a confuted
and often absurd way with her married
life; :.nd thia in its turn reemvd mixed
up with that of the husband and wife
whoee story bad come to so ghastlr an
ending in this very house. Oddly
enough, ahe nev»r one# dreamed of tier
own husband. Il waa always Herbert
Sinclair who came and went in
her dreams as her husband, though
all the time she was conscious, In a har
assed, troubled wav, that hu waa not tho
man to whom she had plighted hor troth,
and she wm always trying to find out
what bad become of that other man. This
Herbert Sinclair in her dreams filled her
with a fear and horror that for a moment
would cause unspeakable anguish, end
then the uext sho would find herself
laughing with Tom Ueareltiue over some
ridiculous trick they had pbysd old
Murphy.
But siul enly. as they were laughing
together, the seemed to hear her name
called out in a shrill, agonized shriek—so
■harp so loud, that ths dreaming brain,
uh if pierced by it, awoke, and ahe atrug*
glcd up in bed, staring into the dimly-lit
room, every pulse os'inz like a sledge
hammer. VVas it a dream? Or wav it uis
bowling of the wind, now blowing a gale?
She e-it up. staring toward the door,
tho shriek still ringing <n her ears Good
heavens! The dour was sjar!
An icy breath swept suddenly through
tho room, from it to her. In the dim
light she aeemed to see a hand clasping
tho door, just above the lock—-a small,
white-fingered bund. On the third finger
Mere rings—one a wedding ring, tho other
a half hoop of diamonds. It was strange
huw cle i iy ahe aaw it alt. There waa a
Fliin on the back of ihe baud; it disfig
ured the slender Angara. tVhat was there
in the close, convulsive grasp that gave
the anggoniou o:' erne one outside there
on the landing clinging to the door in
mortal fear and anguish—some one pur
sued by a hideous en«uny, whose presence
waa murder? Not of mere life alone. It
was the awful horror of a human soul
which faces the death of all human faith
an I trust and hope and love.
And as Lady Dsveroux looked, the
horror and anguish of that presence, of
waieh tier lo lily eves could only aso the
blood-stained h ind, feii on her and be
came her own. It wns Ik* enemy who
was hideously creeping up the stelrcaaa
to the landing outside he; .oom. That
app oachiug murderous fate, with it#
awful ghost# of slain things, waa here.
Waa there no escape?
With a moaning, stifled cry, shs
•tumbled out of be<L
The door of the dressing room seemed
suddenly to awaken some power of con
scious thought in her torror-distr&ught
'
She tied townrd it. unlocked tho door,
and ran into the darkness of tho room,
In her anguish of horror shs did not even
close the door bohind her. but with a
kind of childish madness caught at a
fur cloak whirh lay across a chair, and,
flinging it over b#r white nightdress,
sunk down on the floor against the wall,
pulling the garments that ware hanging
on it closer atom bar to bide herself stilt
more completely in their shadow. He
might find her there, but aba was pow
erless to attr another a ep.
She did not know how long sho
crouched there.
But suddenly the inepense of awaiting
those stealthy, murderous feet became
unbearable. She unovared her face and
raised her head. From where she crouch
ed in the darkness she could see in the
bedchamber. Ai she looked, ehe aaw,
in tbe dim Ifgbt burning there, her hus-
hand—the man who, eh# believed, had
once loved her. He was standing in the
middle of ths room looking toward ths
alcove where stood ths bed. He wss
bending a little forward, as if listening
intently. Ths whole attitude was full of
watchful attention. He waa trying to
discover whether sb* were sleeping; or if
ehe had heard his entry.
He stood iusl on (be spot where that
other wife had met her doom.
And it teemed to Lady Devereux, aa
ahe stared at him, her face rbite and full
of piteous agonv aud horror, that just be
tween him and the bed waa the faint,
misty outline of a white-clad figure.
And then ahe rose slowly and alifily
from hsr hiding place, aa if Jiuman an
guish had approached its limits and in
its place had come a dumb, nsrvslsaj
calm, Sho moved softly. He was so In
tent on his dreadful watching that ha
heard nothing. Then he began to creep
toward the bath
There was another door in this smaller
room, leading out on the patents, from
which a short flight of italrs led into a
second staircase at ths back of the house.
She stepped softly to it. Would tho
key turn noiselessly in the look? It
creaked slightly; but the sound did not
penetrate to the bedchamber beyond.
She drew the door cautiously open, and
•tele eut on the lauding. But the long
fur coat ahe had about her caught a
chair that stood close by the door, end it
made a sound as it was moved on the
polished floor of the passage. Thia time
tbe noise reached the further room. A
sudden impulse prompted her to enatcb
out the key end lock the door on the
landing, to ahut him in.
But it was a delay. And as she was
drawing tbe door tot ahe looked across
tbe room, and there, standing in tbe
door beyond, was her hueband. Tbe
very eight of him filled her once more
witn the wild, c ildiah madness of terror;
ehe pulled to tbe door, not waiting io
lock it, and ran down the patsage and
down the etairoae#, knowing that if he
overtook her he would kill her.
She did not know whither ehe was to
fly. She could not roach the other wing
In thi#: but ahe ecateely even thought
of tbe servants. Her only desire was to
§M out of tbe house where he wrs; to be
beyond the pollution of his wicked pres
ence; to go anywhere rather than mret
bis eyes, even if it «ms into ths river
itself.
She hsard steps behind her on the
staircase. Site heard there following
hsr as she fled along the atone passage
below.
There was n door at the end of ft- a
side entrance from tbe gerdsn into the
houiA
It was bolted and locked. But she
tore at tho bolts and bare, bruising Iter
fingers, and ran out in tbe windy, raeing
night, just as those wicked steps reached
tbe open door behind her,
CHAPTER 2IL
bhe found horsslf caught in a pair of
atrong arms And her dumb agony
broke at Inst, and ahe screamed aloud.
“Don't 1st ms sea your syea, Henry I I
loved you ouce— kill mo if you lilt -, but
don't let me e»o your face." And the
covered her eves with her hands.
“Good heaven!" The arms closed
closer r »und her. “Madge! What is it?'
Ths voice made hor lift her head.
The moon had broken through a rift in
ths driving clouds, and ihesawHsasel-
tine. It was ho who waa sheltering hsr
from tbe hi leous fata that was pursuing
her. She clung convulsively to him,
•‘Tom 1 Save me!"
He held her closer to his breast, but
hia eyes were looking toward the open
door. On its threshold stood Lord Der-
ereux.
For a moment the two men gaz«d at
each other.
Then into the murderous hate in Dever-
eux'e face cenre a gleam of malignant
insolence. He wae discovered, but wiih
daapersis cunning and the malevolence
of bellied fury, be tried an infamous
stuck.
•'So thia is how my pattern wife con
ducts herself ! Stealing out of tha house
in tbe middle of the night to meet—" tbe
sentence waa never finished; Uesseltine
put Madge Devsrsux swiftly from him,
and the next second Devereux was reel
ing against the lintel of tire door, hia
handsome face disfigured for life with a
blow on tbe lips that bad uttered the
infamy.
“Jjook at her!" said Hessehine in a
choked voice, pointing at Madge, who
stood as If turned to stone in the moon
light. “Look at her bare feet—they are
bleeding, wounded, flying from your
cruoltj and treacherv. Look at her face!
If ever a man should be cursed it is you.
for bringing aucu m look thsr# ! If you
dare utter one more word to her, I will
kill you as you would have murdered her
tonight, had I not been here !"
With unspeakable rag#, Devereux. re
covering from the shock of tha blow,
sprang on Hesseltine. But Heesaitiae
was prepared and flung him off.
With • violent effort, Deverenx,
ing himself powerless, choked down the
fury that possessed nim.
“You will live to repent thia—both of
von!" he said, slowly puttit/g his hand
kerchief to bis bleeding mouth, "All
the town shell know tomorrow how I
found you hers together tonight, auu
how I saw you from ths terrace this 'af
ternoon, standing with' your hands
clasped in each other’s. I saw you,
though you didn’t see ms, and ths shall
with herself dead many a time bofors I
have done with yon both!"
Evan Uesseltine stood appalled for a
second before the malignance of ths sup
pressed tone. Before he oottld move De
vereux disappeared into the night. Hes-
aeltinea first impulse was to fnllow him.
Thau the sight of Lid.r Dcverenv fWk.
ed him, •• ahe stood there, barefooted, in
the uncertain moonlight, tbe wiod blow
ing her rain-wet hair about har white
faeft
He took her in Ms arms and lifted hsr
nofww th# threshold.
The »ick rage died out of hia heart.
and he stood for n second looking down
at her very wialfullr,
“You aren’t afraid to go back alone?”
he asked, sternly crashing his deaire t<»
F*e tier aafo in Wc*ton‘a keeping. "Hut I
shall be here—outiuia. No one •!
ter the house to harm you again. Call
Weston and Murphy up at once. And
whan Weston is with you. pat lights in
soms of the windows, end I shall know
you are safe. Do yon understand,
dear?"
She still seemed dazed, bat aha
promised him as a child would have
done,
He stood outside of the door watching
her till sho disappeared in the darkness
of the passage. He w aited still some
minutes. Then he cloeed the door, as a
man might reverently end softly cloaa
the door on e beloved dead women.
The rain waa caaaing. The moon re
mained longer uncovered by the drifting
clouds By ita light he searched the
garden end tried to discover how De
vereux had entered tbe bouse. He went
down to the river edge by the lending
ztsge.
There were footprinte leading to end
from it. Hia face grow pelsr as he re
membered the strange presentiment that
had chilled him as he said goodby to
Madge that afternoon.
Tbe drawing room end her bedroom
faced tbe river. Devereux must have
been watching them from the terrace
while they talked in the laraplighted
room. Ha had come by tbe river slept,
aa that thought bad suggested.
Hoaaaltina looked down at th# wet,
slippery stairs end caught sight ot some
thing white lying on the lowest Stephen
object sonsstfmea covered* sometimes left
bare by ths foam-flecked current which
was racing under ths bank. He picked it
up. It wss caught by the branch of a
bramble, and surging waters bad not been
able to sweep it away. U was a blood
stained handkerchief, marked with
Daversux’a initials. He must lave
dropped it aa he returned by the way he
ed oome. Hesseltine strained hie eyea
through the A’ful moonlight to see il he
could catch sight of the boat by which he
had coma and gone.
! ■ tin* t:r«. f *w»v ing a I ai. "g :»
the wind, drooped over th# water near
where he stood, and he could aee nothing
beyond but tbe black, rushing water,
with ita yellow-flecked miniature waves
and eddies. An ugly night for a man to
b# oat in on a small craft.
reseltina turned away at last and
went back to the bouse. Lights were
burning In two or three of tbe rooms
Much ae he decired to atav and k#ep
guard, he did not dare.
Deteraux’e horrlbl# threats rang in hia
ears, and he knew what manner of man
be was. Heflaeltina’s love for Madge was
somathlng so sacred that tha very thought
of bringing a shadow on her fair name
was torture. Hire waa safe now, Dever
eux would not venture to return.
Hut as he went back to the inn where
B was putting up for tire night, about
two mllas awav, ha was full of a new
dread for her. His presentiment that she
was in some physical peril had bean so
strong after leaving tor that afternoon
that, at tha very moment of getting into
the train for London, ha had changed bis
mind and stayed behind. Ha drov# out
to tire little inn where he wss now put
ting up. and, after dinner, he started one
ostensibly, for a stroll. Bu: be had made
his way to tha Kivar bouse, end, scarcely
knowing what he dreaded, bad lingered
near th# house for some time lie was
iu«t going away whan the scene
happened.
He was convinced that be had saved
her from death. Hot hi* heart was still
very heavy witbtn him, and he lay
awake till long after dawn thinking over
this naw peril that m-naced h»r. In
epit# of har truth and purity, what hsrm
might not a roan like Devdrenx do her?
With hla ready lias and cold malignity,
there waa no evil word he would atop at.
And a woman’s fair name is so easily
tarnished.
d hor it '' "H i k.ii
know her would be*
n there was the scan
rid. How could she
If dishonor tore
her. All '.bos* w
Here in her; but r
JaMoving, cruel i
bear its gossiping ■
He could not r Hint going to tbe river
house early in th*» morning to inquire
after her. He <i. I not s* o her. 8he was
completely pr -tialed by the etonuof
the dreadful night-
Bhe was in th** doctor’s hands, and they
feared brain f#vor.
But h»» saw W«ston; she gave him
small bottle tnu*. sho had picked up in her
mi'U*M* reem tcslde the bed.
It was chloroforir. She and Morphoy
had gathered f metblng of what had
taken place, 1 they both believed that
it had been Dev« reux’s intention to ponr
the contents of ii,o bottle on her pil.’ow
aa the slept a:.. >avu the empty bottle
by her ride, to 'ivs the suggestion that
her death had i . n either the result of
an accident or that she had taken her
own lifo intentionally,
Weston said she had cot mentioned
the discovery to har mistress, and Heasel-
tin#, who foiiy agreed with their sheer;,
told them they had done right.
He took po'«*Mion of tire bottle and
kept it, with i .e blood-stained haHker-
chlef. Then went up to town to con-
• ii.t a friend, * lawyer, all day Uieadm*
the very sight «>f a paper, lest already
some hurribls !!# Invented by Devereov
«h "ild have "'ind i'« war into it.
I<sdy Devereux waa spared that leer,
f( r before r. k lit -ho wu in u l i vn f-ror.
Day after day went by, and all the
time ahe lay tot ween life and death,
mercifully spared from at least the tor-
mont that risked Homo)tine. Through
all H§ aoxietv for her illnena ran thnt
other fear for her peace and honor.
Rut tha tlava passed, and Dsveren
•«*eiue 1 to Ilia .<• U.; nttompt to carry out
his threat. Ifas-eltlno did not believe,
that fear of a countercharge of attempted
murder kept him quiet. He was afraid
of nothing, md would hesitate at
n :h*ng lor r ‘venge. iletseitine i--/an
to maxo inquiries, but he could bear
!. thing nf i in. 'iiio*# who know turn
intimately dedared that .he was abroad,
and bad been since the day that Heasel-
tine first we: town t.» the River Itoue".
Then ano I -i thought strut k him. and
L« wt-nt do- n to tho riv'*r to lu.ikc
further inquires. An overturned broken
boat had bev '“'in I in* day after that
stormy night, caught between sotneenaga
about two in se« below the River House.
An acoident had been feared, though no
lr* of t! a '»ii l« omipant n-'lieeu
found. But a week later, ae Heueltiaa
« is a**arcJiir .■ f ,r n< u a nwollen. niiiipe*
lees thing was found in the river b»low
one of the weira. The features were un-
recognizable, and the face nnd bead bad
been so battered about by the fierce cur
rent which had driven the body against
tha piles that even the mark of Hesael-
tine’s hlor * •»* no longer distinguishable
in the dread 'ul justice raeted out to him
by a roeredois N.mes!?, But >•» ih..
clothes and jewelry found on tho body it
waa discovered to be that of Lord Dever-
eux. The watch had stopped half an
hour after he had Imi the River Hon-s.
Hie boat must have been driven against
a tnag :& 'J y rush o' the water*, while
thadarkterf hud made him still mors
holploM.. !, ; >te hod probably been flung
out of f, r (1 'at. and then, powerless
againnt d rJ vpllen current had been
• wept d.to q otsi the wmr.
It wafJ* T any days before Maud# waa
told It was not for many
month 1 “ t peace came back to her.
Bnt tv. years later ahebecamo Heasel-
line’s wife, and to the end of her day*
she will believe that her life was spared
that night, for tbit great joy that has
come to her, by the blood-stained hand
of the poor young wife whose dream of
married happiness came* to so foul an
•nd.
But for the light of that blood-stained
band on tha door she would never have
left the room that night.
Heeseltioe, with a man’s skepticism,
does not take quite the same view of the
case, but he never contradicts her. In
deed, he cannot bear even to hear her
speak of that time at all.
Hire would not park with the River
houses But though they hare often
stayed !h#r# *inra. the dead band of
Amy Sinclair has never again been seen
clinging to the door.
Perhaps the merry voices of chil
dren have hushed the poor bride-wife
into rest at last.—All the Year Round.
Sweet Plleireae Ranee of jHllburn
Town.
When I had gone the highway down,
I met awret Mistress Nance there,
With bonnet quaint, and Jaunty gown.
And sundown gHnU stout her hair;
Sorb nIUeu Lomu, dainty feat
That should not climb the mountain lands.
Fuck wondrous hair, like ebrafftnod wheat
Ail burattag from its golden bands.
*8weet Mistreat.” I made bold to say.
I bear} * g? down the glebe withmM
I go down the glebe w
a hint sing yesterday,
i me what it sang were
, robin Wnl, imr kn
To eao that ahe did me so view)
“A roMn bird." (1 did an quake)
"I wish me what It see* were true.**
Ab, Rrubes Foeter,**nttoth the lose,
"What alia the lad that ha'acoo# wrong
Beat got thee to thy looking glSM-
Whot io it of tha mbia’a »«»nj;ir
I’ll warrant me the bird dkl flae
Kre tuoudldat learn ita piping lay.
Ah, ttautwn. roan, art fooling me?
And (a it naught thou hast to aajrT*
"Sweet Mlntrece Nance of Miltrarn Town,
1 am a lontisi. country lad:
In bounet quaint and Jaunty gown
Y«m quite dUtroct and max#me mad."
A ad all tala time the bonuut'a tluta
Grew qnalnfrr atilq I do declare,
And ell this time tha sundown glmta
Made merry with the ausbeaved hair.
What riddle talk j«, Reuben, man?"
And toaecd her won ir •»• utana alanm
•To it strain, where y© began—
Wh«t U it n/ the rohiu's »ong?
1*11 warrant me in all the throng
Along tho green tiiero's none so rare
At would not tall A robin'* *ong."
And tossed again her wondrous hair.
1 this time we posard along.
la-© did so undo my brain
I durst not tell tbe /obtu's nong-
1 wish that w« might walk e. sin;
And all thia time tha highway down
I went with Mistress Nancy fair,
Vp by the gieba into tha town.
Gome •un-glint* Mill stout her heir.
—William Page Carter In tha Century.
In Connecticut they are tailing Ibis
story about Chiof Justice An irewa;
While attending a collage reunion, bo
met two young lawyer# who were also
graduates of the same institution and
acquainted with him. It wan a hot day,
and, aa he (reused to greet hia juniors,
(be judge mopped hia brow and asked:
“Boys, rau you tell mo if thn old town
ia atiii without a license?" Truth «*m-
K lled them to anawar in the afilrmativ#;
t, aftar a moment’s pause. tii#y men
tioned a “let# ti#ciason" which permitted
petaona in dir# distress to cop# with tho
■tarn statute* of tho cornruonwealth,
“Once I waa declaiming Heina'a Utorm
»• Be a.’ and I made it ao vivid some of
tho re in the room actuallv got seasick."
“Pretty nearly the same thing happened
to rue. I waa reciting Schiller’s 'Lioos
and the Olove,' and when I cam# to *Tb#
lion* yawning came/ everybody in th#
room tog in to yawn and kept ft np till
end.”—Jr'iiegtud# Blatter*
ALAPn)M*M CAVE.
Kimarkable Discovery of rrebjrto
Tree-nrc* In AroiliraM .nU-ouri
Bp# list Dispatch to tile Globe-Democrat.
Dexter, Met* Boot; 4—U taonly very
recently that news ef the diecove.y of
ancient gold mines, trat in year# or »r#s
ago have been worked amt abandoned,
has reached the ear of the public. And
close following it your correv uondont
lias received the particular* o» / “iic ot the
moet remarkable Jiacow.iea’ «»* recent
years. The northeastern parr of Stod
dard county and that portion of ricott
countt adioiniug traversed *v the Bt.
Louis* and .Southwestern railway {ih#
Cotton Belt), is generally a fl it country,
intersected hero and there wuh .duugne
aud bayous, ponds and huisII totos.
which In tbe fail are covered wish
ducks and other migratory Hurds. Rt igae
of high ground frequently occur between
the*© bodies of water, on which dv#r,
wild turkeya and bear are qui'o plen
tiful. Tbe whole country m covered
with a donse growth ot forest trees The
size of these trees is aometuing immense;
«n fact, ibis locality is said to ovntmin
toms of the finest oaks in the UniUd
Staton
Occasionally you find, rislpg abruptly
out of this vast swamp, a hill wmsuaiw
two miles long, by half a mile wide and
200 feet in height. In the -icinity of
Paradiae, a saw mill and atavn factory
ahe, on sho raiiroad, are eatersI of theso
hilln. One Is known as Loat HilL Thia
hill has always bees shrouded in mys
tery. 1 he local lnuian tradition* in©:.*
turned it, and aup©r*titioui huntora and
trappers had carefully avoided it, and
had many a weird tale to relate about
the “spooks” that walked in that hill. So
that Lost Hill had never been thoroughly
explored.
Shortly after naw railroad was
built, O. C. Frtabes, of Jamestown, N.
Y., came into this country and purchase 1
a large amount of tbe timbered land
which Is situated on and stoat Lost Hill.
He Lad other mills situated at different
points along the railroad, and last fall
located one at tb# south end of Loat
Hill, and proceeded to out tbe timber and
manufacture It ioto staves.
Horne three month* ago Mr. Frifb## as-
cendc : tho hill to get a view of the sur
rounding country. Ou his war down he
slipped and fell, and #a he fell his band
ran into a hole underneath an over
hanging mk >r.d he was much sur
prised to feel that inside there waa a
large opening. He dug some of the soft
earth away with hia hnnds. and feoling
satisfied that there waa a cavern of aorae
kind there be returned to tho mill and
kccured the services of his aon, R R.
Friabee, and his foreman, Mr. McIn
tosh.
They provided thnmsfllvsa with eorao
shovel*, a crowbar, a long |A#c« of rope
end a lantern, and not oavinx l»' rn l, #en
by csy »t the m*U. returned to the
•pot where Mr. Fristoe bad mad# hia dia-
coverj. After removing some of tho
enrth from around the reck, judge their
astonlahmvnt when the t«j* of a pa/fectly
cut arch was disclosed cut in tho solid
rock, and showing great skill nrvj c«r*tui
workmanship. It did not take tong to
remove enough earth to make so open
ing tiiat they could enter, an.i after
liKhtingtl:
I found t
itfrei
.v :-r*. aud tb • arched roof atom f •• u
leal above taeir Head .. '
tunnel or passageway weia ■ loi.d «rob
immense figures out nut in bohl retu*f,
■bowing men engagod m thecl>a*o ojuawt
with spears, hatchete, bows auu »rrv*e
and some unknown implement that toe
explorer took for slings. The law worn *n
pictured there were engaged io tlomoaiio
occupations—cooking, cleaning hide#
pegged out on the ground attet
the manner of the Indiana of lod.iy,
and in oae or two m-tanc a were
cleaning flah. The sculptures were *i
markabiy distinct, and looked an if the
artiat had juat finished them. The fig
ures were all at least ten feet in height
and remarkably well proportioned. Tho
men want along the passage ut-out I
feet, where it turned sharply to the right,
end after following this a short distant e,
entered a room ao large that the fevblo
raja of their lantvrn could not penetrate
iU darkness that hung over tha end of
the room farthest from the entrance. As
it was nssrly night when they started
upon their explorations, they withdrew
to wait unl:l the next day before going
farther into the cavern.
They returned in the morning pro
vided, in addition to their tools on tho
previous day, with two large torches,
and upon regaining tha room lit tb©m
and found themselves in a room or ewa
160 fast long by 60 wide and 150 hfgli.
Around the aides of this room wero
large blocks of stone, ell pointing toward
the centre. As one of the men happened
to hit one of the blocks ft gave forth a
hollow sound, and u;on further exami
nation they discovered a joint near tha
top, which led them to bsliere that the
block was hollow and might contain
something of interest. After s grant deal
of trouble they got the lid off the cheer,
ns it proved ,to bn It took all tho
atrengtn of these three strong
men to raise the ponderous
piece of stonn After lifting up
tbe large slab, they hashed tha
light of their torches into Ihe box, and
saw on immense human skeleton at least
Un feet in length. Attar waiting for
their nerves to aeule they mad# a closer
examine ion of ibeir discovery and found
deposited in tire coffin with the remains
of the ono# gigantic man an ax about tha
aiz# and aha|ie of a modern broad-ax,
•xcept that in*lead of tb# square head it
had a long spike*like projection which
I ape >ed to a point There was also a
large spear and arrow-heads, all mads
out of some substance that tbe eap orera
did not nt that time recognize, but has
been since determined to be tenu* red
copper. They would hold an i*d.;e equal
io the finest steel and were far auterior
to it in one respect—It wonl l so: ru»L
The art of t#mpering copper be<? been on#
of the lost aria
There ware nesrtr forty of three stone
coffin* arranged about thsrooir, a.l hav
ing the appear..nco of lying with ;he
head toward tho center ot toe roout, to
ward which the tn#n madu their war.
Upon approaching what they had m e-
taken to b# another coffin in tbe mid-:!#
of tho room, they war# surprised to dis
cover that it was an alter and arout d it
were scattered diebva that had evide it y
been na#d in the cereworiet there. On
picking np one of the dishes to examine
it they war# surprised io how hear;
it was and scratching it with a knife to
find what it waa mado of they discovered
it was nearly pure gold; so pure, in fact,
that It conld easily oe bent end twisted
by the fingers. There waa a large num
ber of thee# dish##, and tha reader can
saaily imagine the surprise of the men
when they found that they had stumbled
cn to a fortune in that hole.
After wandering far into tb# dark cor*
nan, Mr. McIntosh, being in th# Uad.was
nearly thrown into a deep, well-iike hoi#
in th# floor that bad been covered with a
largo flat rock. Calling Mr, Friibe* to
bring the rope, they sounded the hot# to
find ita depth, and after determining that
it waa not very deep descended. They
found themselves in a room aimilar to
tha one obove, only smaller, and the
•tone coffins being ornamented with
figures and pictures smaller that) tha ones
on the »all. On approaching ths alter
they were agreeably surprised to find tha#
It was either a solid maa# of gold and
tfWT Of Lwacso thickly coated with it,
that they could not cn: through it. Thia
room, it appears, was tho burying.place
of th# head men ot the tribe or race to
whicn they belonged and that the other
Jarg-r room was for th# common war-
nan,
That night th. mm nturntd with
Mcks, and haring Kcured all tha gold
dlahoa that th«j- could carry, went to th.
mill, wh.r. they hud a .tar. taw boxed
up to tend awa, lor repair., tore it epan
and put thair trnuure. imidc. Th. next
da/ th«7 .hipped th. hoi that containad
tha aaw and th.irgnld to Indianapolis
Ind.. but Mr. Frith., followed tho box
•nd changed ita dniiuiloa at Cairo, and
aaat it br axprw. to hi. horn, at Jama-
town, N. Y„ and after a, arrlr.1 tha
gold wa. unpaolnd and mid to parttea in
Naw York cltj for bolwmn 175,000 and
*80,000 Th. dimorrrr ha* bma k.pt a
..crot by tho lucky Codon, aad ba. ju.t
J.aked out.
BIOWN FRfttf 4 SLERPCH,
Tire Straaee AcciSaatTbat Happened
on a Western PaMenger Train.
F»oui tho Chicago Herald.
All the berths of sleeping cars attached
to a Santa Fa route train that reached
Chicago were foil when the train left
Los Augeles. One of ths sections was
taken by Mrs. Klingof Chico, Cal, who,
with hsr three children, was on hsr way
to Germany. Another berth was occu
pied by a gcath.v.as, who tells what hap
pened on tbe trip Thursday night, he
says, just before Kansas City was
reached, and while the porter was mak
ing the beds, necessitating soma eon*
f-Mion in a crowded car, lira Kling
missed ono of hsr children, a little girl 4
years old.
The mother went np and down ths
car in search of her Jilt!# tot, and not
finding her. increased her pace to a run.
bk# peered hither and thither and into
every berth, asking tbe passengers il
they bad wen anything of th# little one.
The conductor was prevailed upon to
•top ihe iraiu Aad • carefs! scorch wss
instituted. Tbe ohild wss nowhere to
bo found. Th# mother was almost dis
tracted. Her piteous cries resounded
throughout the sleeper and shs implored
th# condacior to “back" ths train in
search of her lost one. 'His sympathies
went out to tb# frantlo woman.
A half mile further on tbs trata was
s!de>tracksd at a water station. Than
a hand car wu manned by tb# train
men and a run waa made down tho
track ?cr !*»rea miles, where a freight
train waa met, tha anginaor of which
said ho wou'd have seen a child If it
had bean on or near tha track. Think
ing ths search useless, owing to the
darkness of the night, tho trainmen
returned to tbo watering station.
At h**r nwii i r*| t .© c u !•: ' r if*!t
Mrs. Kling and her two children there
bleak prairie in cere of tbe roar,
who hnn chug# of the water tank. Then
tho train rolled away. All tbe pasaen-
nd many of the
women w©re in tears. The afflicted
.u^lh-r ( uni* 1 i) n >.or' n(D Until On
first streak of dawn ap(*,a
#«*:»: I| VT 1~ r.r i *•<f.
When tho conductor went through tbo
train early tbe next morning showing
a telegram that tbs child had been dis
covered safe and sound, big lumps arose
in the throats of tha men and tbe women
put haadksrchlsfe to their eyes. The
little tot was found about four miles
down tile track fropi the watering >ta*
la Ihe changing in plecse by the paa-
•angers, at the time of making the beds,
the child waa blown through tbe rear
door. The night wu warm, and all tha
doors and windows were open. Ths
high wind carried hsr a considerable
distance from tbs trsok and Mt hsr down
softly in ths sand and sagebrush. Shs
rufait asleep when ths searching party
found hsr. ______
A Dangerous Haoii.
From the Ban Francisco Call.
can tell you." aaid a prominent
AIXOUT WCBBI
JHade from the Matr .
Hair flewrd «<>p
From tbe Clacinnati Eaquirw
"I’m vary acinr, Mrs but your
wig isn't quite done. Call in a^sm this
evening and we will have It for you
surely.
Mrs. — locked vexnd and closed
her carriage door with x bang. The per
son addressing her was the handsome
little woman who hu tho management
of D. Minehan’a Iroquois hair store at
No. 13 Mohawk street. There was some
thing about this conversation nnd the
purpose for which tho womv.no'dM t*»t
seemed a little out ot the ordinary
coarse of events, and so the reporter con
cluded to get what information he could,
concerning the hair Luslneee.
“Ob, that’a nothing," said the little
woman behind the counter, “for we gel
harder customers than she every day."
“Are there many women who wear
wigs V
“Yes, hundreds cf them."
“But whet do you do with sib these
5 Those* are for tha elderlv women, of
course.";
“And ths blond# ones and dark ones
are for tha girls?’
“Certainly. I daro say there are quite
a number of girls among your acquaint-*
aneas who wiu wigs."
“Wall, I don't think so, and I am very
oerteia that I should never become Tsry
closely attached to a girl who bough* her
beady ct a hair eture.”
“I preeumayou imagine you would
never marry a girl who wore a wig cr
fates hair?"
“I am vety certain of it.”
“Fosaibly so; bat you remind mo of a
young gentleman friend of mine, who
always uid be would/. »#r marry a girl
wiu* had fates tuth, did and
didn't know it, and* ga,-^ day
although he bu v* • *
II! "Prot»blT when b, ./
will bo a divorce case."
“No, I think not. He loves hia wife
now better than whan he first married
her, and I don’t think that would make
•ny difference."
“What do ladioe’ wigs cost?’
“A full wig coats from 62-5 io $50 and
the bangii from S3 to $15."
“What are they mado of?*
“Hair."
i; «"nai kind w? Liu?"
“Human hair, to be lura,’ 1
“Where do you get It?"
“From tbe dealers in New York.’*
“Where do they get to*
“From the dealera in Parir."
“And where do they get Ul"
“Well, from tho convents at l other
places."
“So tho girl In Buffalo who wears falao
bangs may have tho hafr that wsa takeq
from the toad of some nun who hu
•rtv«n hartalf up for life to tho seclasion
of some con vent in Parte?’ "J.? ’ T.
“That ie i: precisely. But tho falss
hair is just a# clean, and perhaps cleaner,
than the natural growth. It n purified
by fire—baked la an oven before it* u
placed in the tnurkot.
"Why are tha wigs so expensive?”
back here and you can ju«!,,t
elf."
'I no r#q o;i<
t girli
waa shown into' i
busy at *
all
phj.ici.n to a reproMnuti.. of lb. Call
jeil.nt.y, "what i. i fruitful tourc. of
And wh»« to itT
••In ridio, in tb# itraot two you b»o
no doubt mu puo.o,.re, porlieul.rly
women, take a pieoo of coin from a
pockot-book ud ptoco ft botwo.n tbo lip.
while waiting for tb. conductor to conn
.long. It to . hobit formed by nut ud
. moot donnroui on.”
“Why?" . „
••Did you otcr tor s momont think,”
continued tho phyiicton, ‘‘whoro . piece
of coin may hire been Uforo ft con*
Into your pouoafio., to wh»l uw It
nuy hove been put, or where iu
place of lodgment wu? I b.T.
known of muylntUncre In which coin
hu bean ured to olou tbo tyre of lop-
rouo Chin.man. Than, ngmio, threw to »
certain class of women who are supentw
tloua, .nd boll... that if they will pUc.
In' th.lr atocking tho firet place of
coin they recoiie in tb# day luck will fol
low thorn nil day long! end how m«iy
are thoy who ctrry money in their boot,
or .bore and drew il from than u naceo-
■ity d.m.nda? Jure tblok of money that
hu been used in the manner I have «•*
•cribcdcd twin, placed Iretwen tb. lip.
of any oae—man or woman. Money
carries with It many a blessing, but it
also carries meay a curse, for. bright as
it li, it carries upon its fees the germ of
many a dteea»s, which Is communicated
to the people in tbe manner 1 have de
scribed” —
Te Tair h•#• «• Karope,
From the Philadelphia Bulletin.
Charles H. Moore of Galveston, a ep#-
oiu from that oily -y. prop— «® »°-
daruko tbo «hipe»n« of . log reft from
tl.lre.lon to Loodon u »» azpreiwt.
U. bu con.ulud Kino of tb. oldrel re.
captain, in Amorio. men who unit# in
tbo boitof tbit tb. oxporiro.ut wiUptut*
’“STwocr. baitore* »b»« Jh«» to hu
rtok to abippi.g • lef t.ft from <••)*••'
ion to London ib.n from St John to
Now York. Ai.fl from Ualre«ou to
London would not onoouot.r the —tore
storm, .nd hu ioctd.nl from tbo cout
two. tbo Bor of Kuudy to Now \oik.
Mr. Moore propmre to n...M.^r~twj_y
to .tart late io July of nut yore. Throe
month. «i» bo coo.umod in making lb#
raft. It will renatot of three rectlona
firmly «plk«d topthor aftar tbo tuition
° f, n»*ra!t wm’bo comtrncttd In Oalrro-
tun harbor, aod lowed rerore tbo ocaan
br tha itrem tug Storm King and an
ocean tramp ,w “^°W!tei!w* l< T£
hu to Ltrlan) & Ca of Urerpooh in#
reft to Cooonaut of T.xaa jcjlow pin.,
ud to intaudri for ihip Aid
io,.
hud
wipe
tli© hairs of a peraan
counted, but tltO girls wh
count every Individual hair
sewed into the cloth separately. It ia very
fins work snd dons with a long fine
needle which hu s small barb on tho end.
A wig only futs about threo or four y ©are.
whan it fades sad another one hue to bo
mads,
“Tell ms something about bleaching,"
asked ths reporter,
A large glass jar containing the fluid
wu taken from behind the counter. It
te odorless, looks liks water, but costs 25
cents per ounce. It is labeled “Peroxide
of Hydrogen" and te advertised as the
discovery of Thenard, a celebrated French
chemist, in 1748. In full strength it
makes the hair a pure blonde, but if
diluted will produce a darker shade.
Wk#c a woman's hair te once bleached
•ha hu to coatiaue using it as fut aa tna
heir grows out,
But ths most interesting end, to a man,
ths most entertaining dspariment in the '
whole store, te ths little booth whore the
manicuring te done. A tell, blonde girl
with a quiet, lady-lika manner, asks you
to walk in behind the screens, and there
yon find a Urge, cuy chair, a small otto
man and a little bench, on which te dis
played a finger bowl, several small,
carved scissors, a few small files and
brushes. Yon are uked to alt down in
the large chair, and the blonde girl
takes her place on th# ottoman
directly In front of you. She Lake#
on# of your bands in hers and tolls you
to put ths other one In tbe finger bowl
and tet It soak. Yon feel a trill© embar
rassed ai yon look at your grofthrown
paw in contrast with her soft little hands
with their polished nails, but aba makes
you feel eaater when ahe remarks: “You
have got very nicely shaped bands and
your nails would be lovely if they were
First she cuts ths nails on your dry
hand and thin puts that to soak while
■be treats tha cutiele on tbe hand that
hu just been taken from tbe bow). It
reminds ono of the days when he used
to watch grandfather washing one of bit
big fset ia tha mop paiL
Then after the nails bxve all been
trimmed and tha cuticle put in proper
shape, she puts powder on your nails ami
rubs than with a chamois brush, until
they shins liks barmsbed bra jl All too
soon tha opsmtiou te over aud you era
60 esnta out of pocket, but you go away
with a pair of hands that you are eof
ashamed to Uve go out in aoclety.
Neals ond She Saaall Bay,
Pro is Um Hebrew Journal.
A Sunday school teacher not a thorn
•and mites from a certain church m De
troit has a wife with a rich father, wha
te a very convenient article to go house*
keeping «#• Not many Sundays ago he
asked the worst boy In hia ciaaa wuai
knew abeut tbe flood.
“Tha Johnstown flood?' querod the
k°“ko, no," In a vexed tons, “I mean
Noah’s flood.” . ... .
“Flood of what?" asked the boy,
“Water, of cooma" , ... .
“Ob-b." sold the boj m -Juub.ful
^ 1 N5S? , £4“wh«“^ te
watre?* qoori.fi til. boy,
Wt "ThalV.X It vn. w.i.r er.rywhtre.”
-Aad bo Ured oa It all tbo liwe."
•■Yre.”
"VNU, old No. b i-fin't lire aa
fathoMo-Iaw, did ho!"
On tire follow.n, rekkJ'.li tb N,j -re
copit J » place io a care of o.d.r ><.oou