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VOL. XXII
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By Henry M. Stanley, Author of “In Darkest Africa/’
“How I Found Livingstone,” Etc.
For the Constitution.
Copyrighted by Henry M. Stanley, 1893.
“Master." said Kadu, as we gathered
about tile evening lire, “some men say
that animal.-; do not reason, and cannot ex
press themselves, but I should like to know
how it is that we perceive that there is
great cunning in their actio:’.:;, as though
they had calculated beforehand how to
net and wl.at would be the r< suit. V< e
V.'eganda think animals are very clever.
Vie observe the cock in the yard, and toe
hen with her chickens; the leopard, as he
is about to nounc? on his prey; the lion, as
he is about to attack; the crockodil?, as he
prepares for his rush: the im:i’ah> in the
shade, as he awaits the hunter; the ele
phant, as he stanus at attention; ami
say to ourselves, how intelligent they are.
Gur legends are all founded on these
things, and we interpret the actions of ani
mals from having seen their methods;
and I think mon placed in the same cir
cumstances could not have acted maeh bet
ter. It may appear to you as though we
were telling you more idie tales to raise
a laugh. Well, it may be v ry amusing
to hear ami t ilk abort them, but it is still
more amudng to watch the tricks of ani
mals and insects, ami our old men are fond
of quoting the actions of animats to teach
us. while wo are children, what we ought
to do. Indeed, there is scarcely a saying
but what is founded upon something that
an animal was seen to do at one time or
mother.
“Now. the story that I am about to re
late is a very old one in Uganda. I heard
it when a child, and from t o fact that a
terrapin v.;i< s.i: 1 to b > <o cunning I have
never liked to ill-treat a terrapin, and
every time I - the story comes to
n;v mird in all k freshn- s.
“A terrapin and a crane were one time
traveling tog th very s eialdy. Th y be-
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BGKO PERFORMED HIS I‘AI;T E.\ I‘EI tl l loi S|,Y.
tan their conversation by the terrapin ask
ing: ~. , ,
•• ‘How is your family today, Miss < rane.
"■ ’Oh, very well. Mamma, who is get
ting old, complains now ami then- that s
all.’ .
"‘But, do yon know that it strikes me
that she’is very fat.’ said Terrapin. Wow.
a thought has just entered my head xx hieh
1 beg to propose io you. My mother. too,
is ailing, and 1 am rather tired of hearing
her complaints day after day; but she is
exceedingly lean and tough, though there
is plentv of her. 1 wonder what you will
say to my plan. YYe are both hungry.
So let. us go and kill your mother and eat
her; and tomorrow you will come to me.
find’ we will kill my mother. We thus
shall be supplied with meat for some days.*
“Replied Miss Crane. I like the idea
greatlv. and agree to it. Let us go about
it at once, for hunger is an exacting mis
troHS. and the days of fasting are more
frequent than those of fullness.
••Tlie matricides turned upon their tracks,
and, arriving at. the house of Mrs. (vane,
the two cruel creatures seized upon Mam
imi Crane, and put her ta death, they
then plucked her clean and placed her
body in the stewpot; and both Terrapin
and Crane feasted. , , , . .
"Terrapin then crawled home, leaving
Miss Crane to sleep and the pro
cess of digestion. . But, alas!
Miss Crane became soon very ill.
Whether the meat would not be digested
with qualms of conscience or not I cannot
sttv but she passed a troublesome night,
and’ tor several days afterwards she did
Lot stir from her house.
"Terrapin, on reaching the house of Ins
mamma, which was in the hollow of a
tI’CP, <*lll*’l Ol»» • 1•1 A f HP
‘Tu-no-no-no! upon whica Airs. lerrapm
s-id *Oh, that is my child.’ ami sh<. pq
Lown a cord, to which young Jerrap.n
made himself fast and was assisted to the
neit- where the parent had already pre
pared a inee supper lor him.
"Several days later Jerrnpm proceeded
through tiie woods to the pool where, ho xvas
•ieeust"nied to bath**, ami at the xxal**r
side’b** met Miss Crane, apparently quite
spruce and strong again.
"She hailed Terrapin and said. Oh. here
you are at last. I have been waiting to
see vou for some time.’
"‘Yes’ replied Terrapin, here I am,
and you—how do you feel now? Mv n«icrh-
bors told me you were very ill.
••■1 am all right again,’ said Miss Crane,
•but 1 think my old ma disagreed with
me. ami I was quite poorly for some days;
but 1 am now anxious to know when you
are going to keep your part of the bargain
we made.'
•• ‘What—-yon mean about the disposition
of my old maT , , ...
■ • -yes. 1Y be sur >. answered Miss Crane;
•1 fuel quite hungry.’
" ‘Well, weli. Bargains should always
be kept, and if the blood-oath be broken
misfortune will overtake me. Your moth
er’s death rests on my head, and 1 mean to
return your hospitality with interest, other
wise may my shell lie soon empty of it.;
tenant. Stay here a while, and I will
bring her.’
“So saying. Terrapin departed, and crept
to where he had secretly stowed a quantity
of India rubber in readiness for the oeca
sion. After taking out quite a mass of it,
he returned to the pond where Miss Crane
stood on one leg, expectant and winking
pleasantly.
"‘1 fear Sister Crane.’ said Terrainn, as
he laid his burden down, ‘that you will
find my old ma tough. .She turned out to
bo much loaner than 1 anticipated. There
is no more fat on her bones than there is
I on my back. But now fall to, and welcome.
There is plenty there. 1 am not hungry
mvsolf. as I have just finished my dinner.’
"Miss Crane wiili her empty stomach was
not fastidious, and stepped out. eagerly to
the feast so faithfully provided, and beean
to tear away at what Terrapin had brought.
The rubber, however, stretched by the
; greedy cram', suddenly flow from her long
I beak and rebounding struck her in the face
a m,o V .
" ‘Oh! oh!’cried Miss Crane, contuse I with
tlm b! ■ v. ’You- oh l ma most tough.’
•• ‘Yes she is. 1 suspeete 1 she Would
prove tough,’ answered Terrapin, with a
chuckle. ‘Bm don't be bashful. Bat away,
' and welcome.’
j "Again Miss Crane tugged at the rubber
j to tear it, but the more it was stretched the
I more sever? were the shocks she received,
I and her left eye was almost blinded.
I ‘M I*ll. 1 never / exclaimed Miss Crane.
‘She is too tough altogether.*
. “ ‘Try again,’ cried Terrapin. ‘Try again’
i Bittle liy little it is said, a fly eats a cow’s
I tail. You will get a rare and tender bit
I in time.*
] "Miss < ’rane. thus pressed, did so. and seiz-
I ing a piece lay back, and drew on it so hard
■ that, when the rubber at last, slipped, it.
bounded back with such force that she was
s*ut sprawling to the ground.
*’Why. what is the matter?* asked Ter
rapin, pretending to be astonished. ‘She is
tough, I admit: but loh! our family are
famous for toughness. However.' the
tougher it is the longer it lasts on the sto
mach. Try again, Sister Crane. 1 war
rant you will manage it next time.*
" ‘Oh. bother your old ma. Eat her your
self. I have hail enough of that kind of
meat.'
You give it up, do you ?’ cried Terra
pin -Well, well, it is a pity to throw
good meat away. Maybe if 1 keep it longer
il .will get tenderer by ami by.’
1 net thus parted. Terrapin bearing his
share of rubber away in one direction,
and Miss Crane, sadly disgusted, striding
grandly off in another, but looking keenly
a ~xvi 1" satisfy her hunger.
\v hen she had gone a great distance a
parrot t.ew across her path, and perching
on a branch near her. cried out: ‘Oh
royal bird, say since when has rubber be
come the food of the bird king's family?*
a 1 P ll lt ' ,O *' OU Barrot?* ’ she
Well, I saxx* you tearing at a piece of
and when you marched
oft .errapm carried it away and I hoard
I him say because In* has a habit of speak
ing his tlmugnts aloud “Oh. how Uunhl
my Snster ( rune is! She thinks my ma is
<h .bl. lio, hi, ho! want a duiT‘r r * \ » 1
all the way he <*hiiekl *d a,id hughe ' „
Itmu-di he was filled with plantain winL.‘ '
N his ma not then?’ asked Miss
Crane.
~ “ D '.’ a,l . : . a bit ?f if.’ replied Parrot,
saxx old Ma I'errapin but a moment ago
as I flow by hty tree, waiting for her son,
and the cord is coiled ready for his cry of
fu-m *-iio-no! O-no-no-no! We-no-no-no!’
“ ‘Ah, Parrot, your words are,good. When
ATLANTA. GA., TUESDAY, MAY 16. 1893.
we know what another is saying behind our
backs we discover the workings of his heart.
The words of Terrapin are like the bush
that covers the trap. Goodby, I arrot.
'When we next meet we shall have another
story to tell.’
“On the next day Terrapin observed Miss
Crane approaching his house, and he ad
vanced a little way to meet her.
“ ‘Well. Sister Crane, I hope you are
all right this morning?’ it asked.
“ ‘Oh, yes, so so. Brother Terrapin. But
fiptplS
I I
mW .
1
“HOLD HARD. TERRAPIN!”
you must excuse me just now; I’ve heard
bad news from my family. A brother and
sister of mine are suddenly taken ill, and
I am bound to go and visit them,’ answered
Miss Crane.
"‘Ah. Miss Crane, that reminds me of
my own brother and sister who are much j
younger than 1 am. but very soft and
tender. What do you say now to making
another bargain?' asked Terrapin, with A
wink.
" ‘Yon are very good. Terrapin. I will !
think of it as Igo along. I shall be back |
before noon tomorrow, and we will talk I
of a trade then.’ They were very civil ;
to one another as they parted. Terrapin ;
went for his usual walk to the pond. Miss j
Crt.re proceeded to visit her family, but
muttered;
“‘lla. ha, Terrapin, you are great at
a trade; but you will not make another
with me in a hurry till our first one is
squared.’
"After she had gone a little way she I
turned suddenly around and came back I
to the foot of Terrapin's tree, and cried: |
“ ‘Tu-no-no-no. Ono-no-no-no. We-no- ;
no-no.' j
‘‘‘Ah. that is my child’s voice,' said M; «.’■>
Tompin to herself, and let down 'til:*
cord.
“Miss Crane eaught hold and climbed up |
towards the nest. Ma Terrapin craned
her neck out far to welcome her child,
but before she could discover by what
means little i < rrapin had changed its dress.
Miss Crane struck Ma Terrapin with her
long sharp bill in the place where the
neck joins the shoulder, ami in a short, time
Ma Terrapin was as dead as Miss Crane s
own mother.
"The body was rolled from the nest,
and it went falling down and Miss Crane
went quickly after it.
“In a quiet place, screened by thick
bushes, Miss Crane made a great fire, with
which Ma Terrapin's thick shell was crack
ed. She then scooped out the flesh and
carried it to her own home, and stewed it
in a big black pot.
“On the next day Miss Crane was stand
ing on one leg by the pond with her head
half buried in her feathers, who should
come along but Terrapin crying bitterly'
and saying ‘Ah, my ma is dead. Aly old
ma has been killed. Who will assist me
now?”
"Miss Crane affected to be asleep, but
beard every word. When, however. Terra
pin was near she woke up suddenly and
said cheerfully:
“ 'Ah. it is Terrapin, my little brother
'Terrapin. How do you do today?'
"Now, as Terrapin had already slain Ins
mother, according to his own confession,
it struck him that it would not do to ac
cuse Miss Crane, because by- doing so he
would expose his breach of faith with her.
but the scent of the roasted flesh came strong
just then ami he knew it was Miss Crane
who, discovering his trick, had killed her.
“He managed, however, to reply briskly:
“‘Sissy, dear. I am but tolerable. But
how is your family today?’
“ ‘My brother and sister are much im
proved, Terrapin. They are both as fat as
tallow. By-the-by what about that trade
you proposed to me?’
" ‘I am ready, .Miss Crane, for a trade
any day. When shall it be?'
“ ‘No time so good as the present and if
you jog along to the end of the pond I vyill
fix my house here and soon catch up with
you.’
“Terrapin professed groat delighband tod
dled along, but when he had gone a little
way his bad habit of thinking aloud came
on him ami he was heard to say;
“My poor ma. my poor ma is dead. On,
you wicked < 'ratio. 1 know by the scent t.nat
yon have killed my ma. What can I do
now?'
"Miss Crane knew then that she had
b .'4- *
Wtw .
i| a.■:
I', t": 1
rooil MISS CRANE WAS FAST ASLEEP,
been discovered, and she began to think
tint it was time to remove to another dis
trict, for Terrapin had many Iriends in the
woods, smm as rabb is, jackals, lions, am
se-n nits and if Terrapin moaned so loud
long, all ‘the people of the woods would
know what she had -lone, ami many- would
no doubt assist him to punish her. Castmg
about, in her mind for the best plate, sue
remembered an extremely tall tree ,not tar
from Terrapin’s house, a vety lofty clean
s'mfted tree, on the top of which she
would bo safe from surprise.
"Thither she hastily removed her be
longings, and soon established herself com
fortably. She had also provided for her-
Contimieil on second column second page
A QUEEN’S HOME.
HER ROYAL MAJESTY'S CASTLE IN
THE HIOHLANVS.
It is the Private Home of Victoria and Does
Not l.elong to the Crown—The Daily
Life of the Aged Ruler.
(Copyright, 1593, by Frank Pope Humphrey.)
Ballater, Scotland, May 14. —The queen
and prince consort first came to Balmoral
in ISIS at the recommendation of their phy
sician, Sir James Clark.
'The neighborhood of Balmoral is esteem
ed the driest and healthiest in Scotland.
It is 900 feet above the sea level. Tim air
is pure and bracing, the soil gravelly, and
there is less rain than in the west "highlands.
It is a beautiful district whether in spring
when tin’ birches are in tender leaf and
the broom bursting into yellow bloom, or in
summer, when the hills are pink with heath
er; on in autumn, the queen’s favorite sea
son here, when there is indescribable glory
upon bill and valley of golden birch, pur
pling heatner and brown bracken.
Millais says Scotland in color is like a
wet pebble; a Scotch pebble he means with
its colors deepened ami enriched by mois
ture. And his saying is pre-eminently true
of Deeside in autumn. This district, has
its wilder aspects too. It is a land of glens
and rushing streams, of corries and crags.
The castle stands upon a "haugh." or
open space, by the Dee, the hills receding
far background. Byron’s “dark Boehnagar”
3,«500 feet high, closes the vista to the south.
Byron passed some time in this neighbor
hood when a boy, and Lochnagar and Dee’s
“rushing tide” are met with more than
once in his poems.
Mow I'rinco .Albert Cmne to Buy Balmoral.
Both the queen and prince were impress
ed with the beauty of Balmoral, and above
till with its solitude ami peace after the
rush of court life at London and ’Windsor.
The prince rejoiced especially in the deer
that came “stealthily about the house" and
with his usual promptitude had a shot at
them on the third day after their arrival.
They made the ascent of Lochnagar that
first year partly on ponies, partly on foot.
The mountain has a long, sharp back end
ing in a peak. And in nooks by this peak
they took their hmcheon.
In 1X52 the prince bought the estate for
31.501) pounds. Besides Balmoral it now
includes Birkhall. Abergeldie held on lease,
am! the great fores* of Balloch Beie, bought
somewhat recently by the queen. It coin
prises in all a little over 40.000 acres.
It extends along the Dee for twelve
miles. A public road rum; up the valley
on both sides of the river. But after Bal
moral became Prince Albert’s property it
was closed upon the south side, traffic be
ing diverted to the north bank by a bridge
not far from the castle gate. On the first
arrival of the royal family they drove
first from Aberdeen, a distance of fifty
miles. But soon a railroad began to
creep up the valley by degrees, threatening
destruction to their seclusion, and was at
last stopped at Ballater, eight miles dis
tant, by act of parliament.
Views from the Castle.
There was an old castle on the estate.
A, A
-M-:" b
•' • • a. . .a*■-: — A -• a
a ;
BALMORAL CASTL B FROM THE WEST.
It proved quite inadequate, however, and
in 1X5.” the corner stone of a new house was
laid. In 1X55 it was ready for partial oc
cupancy. When the queen and prince en
tered it for the first time an old shoe was
thrown in after them for good luck, in ac
cordance with an old highland custom.
While the new castle was being built the
Crimean war broke ent and the price of
materials advanced. This was very unfor
tunate for the contractor. But the prince
took the contract off his hands and paid
him it good salary as overseer of the works
and full wages to the workmen. A fire
also broke out. while the castle was in
progress and the workshops were burned,
destroying not only the workmen’s tools,
but slims of money which they had put. hi
their chests. Prince Albert ascertained
the amount of these sums and made up
their loss to them.
The castle is of light granite, and is in
th*' ol<l 'Scotch baronial style of architec
ture, with rotin eurrtts with extinguisher
tops and crow-stepped gables. Its great
tower is one hundred feet high. Upon it is
a clock which gives the time to the neigh
borhood. and a flagstaff from which the roy
al standard floats when the queen is there.
Above the main entrance are carvef} the
ro’val arms in high relief. There are shields
at"lntervals; sculptured with other insignia:
also the three feathers of the prince of
Wales. ete M all in gilt Under the win
dows of tJje queen’s own rooms are bas
reliefs in white marble of St. Hubert and
the door. St. George and the dragon, and
St Andrew.
As you look nt the castle from the north
bank its towers seem to rise from out a
niass of forest trees. But it is really very
open about it. with pleasure grounds to the
vest and north sloping to the Doe. The
J)o.> itself is bordered with tine large trees,
undo- which a broad mutb is laid out. So
mar is the castle to the stream that from
anv part, if the windows be open, the rush
npd whirl of its waters are heard.
Looking from the drawing room windows,
the ■" over flower beds and terraces,
over the De” :i"'l forests bovond on tin the
bUI uvoreans hill Mo the braes
or M r. Tins is the vi”w semi from the
p.jopp's sitting room; one of the loveli
es'. th” most restful, my eyes ever looked
upon.
•r 1,,. rnett” -I Gift from Prince Albert.
Lillie wonder is it ’hat the
(ineen loves Balmoral best of all
r<sid.‘ne”s. Its beauty would explain
liiat. even aside from the fact that house
and grounds tire the work of the prince con
sort. formed in accordance with his taste,
pud therefore doubly dear.
lie left this property to the queen in his
will, and butlittlc change has taken place in
Jr since his death. Even when necessary
additions have been made, they have been
»n arranged as not to interfere with the
general plan.
The house was built at first for a resi
dence of sLx weeks or so in the autumn—
a«~a hunting lodge, and as such it was
used until the prince’s death. It was a
busy place in those early days when the
family was there; each child had bis or her
favorite pursuit aside from the daily lessons
—painting, sketching, photographing, gar
dening .
In the spring following the prince con
sort’s death the queen came for rhe first
time at that season, arriving on May Day,
an old cottager told me. Since that tune
she has come regularly in May. reaching
here before her birthday. May 2-rth. Sim
remains until into .Buie, and returns again
in August in time for the prince’s birthday,
which falls on the 2(’>th. She stays until
the middle o_f November.
Emperor Frederick’s Courting Days.
A little way up the staircase in a recess
is a bronze bust, of the late Emperor Prod
crick of Germany. A martial head, .in
expression quite different from Prince Al
bert's more introspective look. His memo
ry is closely linked with Balmoral, for it
is here that he and the princess royal were
betrothed.
Some anecdotes of him survive here yet.
At th<> time of their betrothal they used
sometimes to walk down by that part of
the estate where the cottages are. Ami
the little cottage girls, as in duty bound,
would drop their lowest courtesies to rhe
princely pair, at tyiiich the tall young man,
over six feet, would gravely drop a courtesj
in return and then walk away, laughing
over his mischief. “I mind it, well,” said
one of the little lasses now a woman. “I
mind just how I felt. I thought he was
too bad to make fun of our courtesies that
way.”
The crown princess, the “Empress Fred
erick." is greatly beloved at Balmoral. In
1X57. just before her marriage, the prince
consort wrote: “The departure from here
(Balmoral) will boa groat trial_to its all.
especially to Vicky, who leaves it for good
ami all.” And when not long after the
marriage, her father was in Germany,
among the presents on his birthday was an
iron ehair from “Vicky” for tile grounds
at Balmoral. At the time of her wedding
she had photographs taken of several of
the cottage families, those to whom she was
more especially attached, to carry with her
to her Germ.in homo.
The Castle Is Furnished in Tartans.
West of the corridor is the drawing room
suit—billiard room, drawing room and li
brary. The floors of all are covered with
carpet of royal Stuart tartan, and the win
dows are draped with Victoria tartan. The
furniture of the drawing room is also uphol
stered will Victoria tartan, which has a
good deal of white in it. The latter is a
handsome 'home-like room. There is no
splendor. That word can apply to nothing
at Balmoral, except to nature's handiwork.
Splendors are reserved for the royal palaces.
Balmoral is a home.
It speaks of the highlands, too, with its
tartans and stags' heads. Even the well
worn hearth rug in the drawing room has
a pattern of bagpipe and deer. Wood is
burned upon the hearths. Candles are used
in lighting. The castle is warmed through
out bv steam or hot-air pipes.
In front of the drawing room fireplace
stands a large round table with comfort
able chairs and couches drawn cosily about
it. Family statuettes and photographs stand
about —miniature photographs of the prince
of Wales’ family when children, a group of
the three daughters of the duke of Edin
burgh, small equestrain statues under glass
of the Princess Alice and Prince Arthur
(duke of Connaught), Beatrice and Leopold
together, a silver statuette of the late duke
of Clarence. There are cabinets of olive and
darker wood; one is filled with finely chased
caskets of gold presented to her majesty by
Scotch innnicipaliiies.
The library has a small colleeßon of hand
somely bound books, and here the queen dines
when the party is small. These three rooms
look out upon the gardens. Many of the
trees in the pleasure grounds were planted
by members of the family ami visitors.
Abergeldie and Birkhall.
Abergeldie castle is about two miles and
a hair from Balmoral. It is a picturesque
old Scotch castle standing directly upon the
Dee. In the earlier years of the queen’s
stay at Balmoral her mother, the duchess of
Kent, passed her summers here. In 1X79
the poor Empress Eugenie was invited here
for a change and quiet after the sad death
of her son in the preceding June.
Birkhall is a plain, ivy-covered mansion,
beautiful for the situation only. Here the
duchess of Albany and her children have
spent their summers of late. It is not equal
tn the accommodation of a large household.
Florence Nightengale was once the guest of
Sir Janies Clark here after her return from
the Crimea, and was invited thence to Bal
moral.
There are no farm lar.ds on Balmoral
proper. It is largely forest. The tenant
farms are at Birkhall and Abergeldie. Dr.
I’rofeit is the queen’s commissioner and
looks after the estate, but all matters are
submitted to the queen.
When the court is in residence Balmoral
is a busy place a small town in itself. But
when the court leaves in November it falls
into a quiet almost oppressive.
HOW HE *TOOK IT.
Arthur Ferris was tall, blonde, handsome
tnd twenty-eight. He was the possessor of
:i long head, inherited from the maternal
side of the house. He was likewise a
dutiful son.
\\ ell. Elsie was going away—too, too
soiiii. I hev had talked in sighs and mur
murs for half an hour; Authur’s left hand
clasped Elsie’s dimpled right one, his right
arm was about her waist: Loth hearts beat
\igoiouslj, as hearts ’will on such occas
ions. and Arthur had just opened his month
to tell Elsie what she had been waiting for
for two weeks, when there was a step close
at hand, a rustle of skirts anu the cooling
voice of Hie maternal Ferris said;
"1 beg your pardon, hut will you please
excuse Arthur a few moments? There are
those miserable business affairs that must
be attended to in time for the late mail.”
And thus he was saved for Elsie had
not a cent, and neither iiad he—at least,
not many of them.
There were several other occasions when
his own long head, or his mamma’s, had
helped him out—for Arthur was somewhat
susceptible.
Hie time had come. The in-every-way
desirabl” young person had presented her
self. True she was not so young as she
PRICE 5 CENTS
had been, but then that was a mere trifle.
She was juM his own age, of as good a
family as his own, and tin heiress of con
siderable degree.
She was not —well, not exactly handsome,
and was rather inclined to what, is politely
called plumpness, but Arthur’s mamma and
Arthur’s long head gave them approval and
Arthur did not care who she might be,
so long as she possessed the above qualiti
cations, particularly the one involving a
very neat, fortune in her own right.
Besides. Arthur was getting a bit des
perate. In fact, h ( . had so far exceeded
his own salary ami the maternal allow
ance, which, bv the way. was as largo as
Mrs. Ferris could afford, that nothing
short of a miracle or a matrimonial alli
ance. such as he had long been seeking,
c/mld save him from getting into very deep
water.
And thus it came to pass that this winter
found him engaged to Miss Bernice Field,
much to the satisfaction of his mother, who
was visiting in New York, and to whom he
had, like the dutiful son he was, sent the
gratifying news at once.
Now, be it known, that Miss Bernice Field
had uot arrived at years of discretion for
nothing. Neither had she, a not unprepos
sessing young person, with nearly a half
million In her own right, passed through the
experience of ten seasons without gathering
unto herself much knowledge of the ways
and wiles of a wicked man.
She was certainly in love with Ferris—
there could be no doubt of that. It is quite
as certain that she was very seriously m
love with him, but with the wisdom born of
experience, she ’lid uot. let him know one
half what she felt for him.
One evening i» February he ran lightly
up the steps of the Field mansion to call
on her whom Cross unfeelingly referred to
as his “little lady love.” It was warm and
the front door stood ajar.
The little footman was not in his accus
tomed place, so Ferris, with the air of one
who knew just where he was going, stepped
inside. From the open door of papa Field’s
study came the sound of voices in earnest
discussion and one of them spoke his own
name.
"Os course, my dear, you are your own
mistress, and T ciXßonly advise you. It seems
to me, however, that you have done a very
foolish thing to engage yourself to this young
Ferris. True, he seems an exemplary young
fellow, and he comes of an excellent family,
but it is well known that he has only a small
allowance from the estate in addition to
S2,(MX) salary. How do you know that it is
you and not. your money that he wants? It
is a brutal question, I know, but It is one
you have probably asked of yourself a half
dozen times concerning other young men.”
Arthur, out in the hall, stan ling in much
the same attitude a child assumes when
speaking its first “piece" tn school, winced
but waited for the answer. It. came in seri
ous, thoughtful tones, which indicated plain
ly that Miss Bernice also had considered
this very matter.
“N-no; I am sure yon misjudge him, papa.
Os course I understand how he is situated
financially, and alj that. But I am sure he is
honest and honorable, and that he cares for
me very much. There are a thousand ways
by which 1 can learn much that you cannot,
and—”
“Yes, yes; I understand; but suppose you
should put him to the test? Do you think
he would come through—ah—er— tins a tied
ns it were? Suppose you Should tell Him TiAt
I had lost all your money ami mine in unfor
tunate speculation—that we were beggars
and had not a dollar we could call our own?
Are you afraid to try him?”
“I don’t like to tell a falsehood, papa, but
it would be only a'‘white lie,’ and perhaps
for the best. Yes, I’ll Try him tomorrow
night.”
"That's my dutiful girl. Now, run along
ami let me work.”
There was the sound of a kiss, and the
perspiring young man in the hail hastened
to get out of the house.
The next evening, with his usual light
heart and good spirits, he rang the door
bell of the Fild mansion.
“Yes, Miss Field was in,” Peter said.
Ferris went into the drawing room and sat
down, running rapidly over in his mind the
Bernice was a long time coming, he
thought, for one who expected him.
Presently she entered—slowly—heavily;
her head bent low over her ample bosom and
her breath came short and fast. Ferris went
forward to meet her, his arms outstretched.
He was something of an actor himself and
he knew it.
“Bernice! Darling! What is the trouble
with my little girl!” (Another good stroke.
Miss Field liked to be called little.)
“Oh, Arthur' I don’t know how to tell
you. It is too dreadful! Papa—”
“What! Has your father been—”
“Oh, no. not that, but worse! Arthur, we
are—beggars!”
And Miss Field delivering these last words
with wonderful impressiveness, hung her
head and sobbed bitterly behind her lace
handkerchief.
Then it was that Ferris, like the young
man of action that he was, put. his arm as
far round his tearful fiancee as possible,
and with some diflieulty led her to ia seat,
and pulled her down on his glossy shirt
front.
He das very, very sorrow, a<s she must
know. But it was nothing. Her father would
recoup himself—he had many influential
friends. As for her, had she not him—her
Arthur? Ho would not, he interrupted her
to say. permit her, through her sense of
false pride, to cast him off now, when she
needed him. No, never.
He had $3,000 a year. It. was not much, he
knew, but they could live on it. And did she
suppose, for one instant, that he had expect
ed to live on his wife’s money? No! A thou
sand times no!
“We will have a real quiet wedding, dear
est, and after it is over we will go quietly
to our own little cottage in the suburbs,
which you and 1 will get ready in the mean
time. and there we will be the happiest, cou
ple in the world. What! Bernice, am I to
understand that you laugh at my cherished
plans?”
For Bernice had leaped to her feet and
was laughing heartily.
“Why. you foolish boy, I was only teasing
you a bit. Don't, you think I'd make a good
hit? Papa and I havn't lost a—”
Here was Mr. Ferris’s opportunity. She
had doubted him; oh, cruel blow. If she could
not’trust him now how could she have any
faith in him when they were married? Per
haps after all it were best—
And he strode haughtily to the door.
Bitt this was not a part of Miss Field’s
programme and she did what any very much
in-love female would do under like circum
stances, so that, in a very few seconds two
people were sitting on a divan in a very
lover-like attitude indeed.
An hour or so later a young man, walking
brisklv down the street, was reflecting:—
If Peter had been at the door—if he had
been ten minutes later—if he had sneezed
in the hall —if—
“It was an awfully close shave, he re
flected. and lie stopped and shook hands with
himself, much to the amazement of the po
liceman on the corner.
“Brightest. Bcs t and Most Reliable.”
From The Calhoun, Ga., Times.
Tin- brightest, best and most reliable newa
icmer in the south is The Atlanta Constitu
tion While every feature of this great paper
is faultless, the one which most impresses us
is its brilliant editorials. If better editorials
■inpc'ar in anv of the great northern papers we
haven't been able to discover them.
It Isn’t Easy to Get Rid of Him.
From The Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Dodge the man who is always wanting to
give you advice. He only wanta to get rid
of it. - <
