The Aberystwith Observer

EXTRAORDINARY DISASTER AT DERBY. During a strong gale which blew at Derby on Sunday night a terrible disaster occurred at a branch barracks of the Salvation Army in Nun's- street. There were about 250 persons assembled in an upper room of a building which is used during the week as a shop. Just as Captain Winnerton was closing the service, a cracking of glass was heard in the roof, and immediately afterwards the whole roof came crashing down upon the people. One half of the floor gave way, and a large number of persons were precipitated into the workshop below. In the other half of the room the people were crushed between the roof and the floor. A dreadful panic ensued, and the cries of the injured were heard above the roaring of the gale, bringing a large number of people to the spot. Those who had gone down with the fallen floor were protected by two portions of the roof forming an arch over them; but, unfortunately, a stove had also fallen and set fire to the fallen debris, a quantity of escaped gas being also ignited. Those who were able to move extricated themselves as well as they could, many jumping from the windows, and the flames having been suppressed, a large fire was lighted in an adjoining yard to guide the searchers for the injured. These were gradually released, and it was found that about 20 were seriously hurt, a boy and a girl being killed. A woman named Flint sustained severe internal injuries by jumping from a window, and was not expected to live. Two girls who were badly burnt were also removed in a critical condition to the infirmary. A man named Keywood had a scalp wound, and another, Siddals, had a broken leg. The building, which had been used by the Salvation Army for about 12 months, is a com- plete wreck.

RACHEL RAYMOND; OR, LOST AND FOUND. BY THE AUTHORESS OF Allan Thornton," "Effie Baird," Almost a Criminal,"$c., tfc [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.], CHAPTER XI. STOLE AWAY. 'AND while all this was going on at Lord Addeleigh's house, Christine Bartlett was speeding away on her journey to London. She had told Lionel the truth concerning herself. The money he had given to her, and the help she obtained on the road, took her safely to London, where she met her husband, who was as she had said, a travelling acrobat, or mountebank as the country folk called him. But that assertion was true only to a certain extent. Henry Bartlett had only been a stroller, since evil fortune had landed him, penniless and friendless, in England. He bad lost clothes, proper- ties, and everything that he possessed, by the founder- ing of a boat which was bringing his things ashore; and, after a week or two's vagabondising, had managed to get a situation in London. With only money enough to pay his own fare, he made his way to it, leaving his wife to follow. She was no nervous, feeble woman, frightened at her own shadow, and she pushed boldly on, ignorant of her road as she was, until, as we have seen, she was met and relieved by Lionel Temple. How she managed her journey matters little to our story; she did manage, and four days after her inter- view with Lionel Temple, she stood weary and worn, but happy and hopeful, at the stage door of one of • the east-end theatres. Well ?" interrogated a dirty door-keeper, as she showed herself. What is it ?'' Mr. Bartlett's address, if you please." Mr. Bartlett! 'Who's he p" The ballet director-the new gentleman." "Oh, him!" The tone was contemptuous in the < extreme, as was the look which accompanied it. What's he to you ?" I am his wife. Where does he live ? That is, supposing I can't see him here." "Oh, you can't see him now. Here, Joseph; where does that new fellow live ?" Over at Mrs. Gwyther's, four pair back, and be careful how you ring the bell, for fear of taking the polish off the handle," retorted a dirty lad, who finished his speech, and went off to inform his fellow- supers that Herr Bartlett's wife was coming, and she looked just like a bone-dealer's rag-doll." Meantime Herr Bartlett's wife had found out his poor lodging, and established herself therein. Very humble and mean it was, but it was home, and redolent of his presence, the only being on earth who loved or cared for her and she wept for very joy that she had found a home at last. She undressed the child, and laid him on the humble bed, and then sat down to await her husband's return. Despite his poverty-stricken appearance, he was a very clever man, this Herr Bartlett, recently installed as ballet- master at the Clarence Theatre and once in London, there was little fear of his getting on. His wife started up with a little scream of joyful surprise when she saw him come in. He looked pale and care- worn, but he was neatly attired in a whole suit of clothes. My darling, my darling he exclaimed, catching her in his arms. What a joyful surprise! I hardly looked for you for days yet_" I got help beyond my expectations," she answered but I'll tell you all about it by-and-bye. Why, how smart you are, Harry!" Yes, dear. I wasn't decent enough for the situa- tion till I got rigged out. We'll have these shabby things off you to-morrow, if I live." Yes •, the Herr's wife must not disgrace him," she said, with a sad smile. But you don't say a word about the boy, dear." Ah, the boy—he's all right, I suppose!" How coldly you speak. All right! Look at him, the darling; isn't he lovely Yes; he is beautiful; and he'll be clever, too, which is more to the purpose. I'm very glad that we've got him here safe." I've had a terrible fright about him." "How?" Just after I left Plymouth. I found myself in a little country village, with all the little money that I had gone; and I begged—think of that, Harry !— begged of a gentleman I met on the road for help to get on." My poor Christine." I looked in his face, aad I thought my heart would stop beating, and I should die, for he was as like the boy as one face could be like another, all but the eyes—they were hers, you know. He gave me money, and bade me go to his house but I didn't, I went on my way for fear." What was his name ?" I heard it in the village. Lionel Temple." Heavens!" Was I not right to get away from that place ?" But there must have been a mistake; was not that man drowned ?" No, no; he is alive, and he was as much struck by the likeness as myself, and questioned me—asked me if the boy was mine only think, my own darling baby but he learned nothing from me. Oh, Harry, I'm terribly afraid ?" Of what, my darling ?" That our sin will find us out, as the Bible tells • us—that's all." Ah, you think too much about it," Harry Bartlett replied. I don't think there was any sin in the matter. He's a bonny boy, and he's better off with us than in a New York workhouse, isn't he?" I've thought not a dozen times within the last few days," she replied, sadly. We're starved, Harry— the boy and I." And that's made you weak and down-hearted, my lass; you'll feel different to-morrow, please Heaven. Our hard life is over now." Ah, I don't feel as though I could please Heaven to anything. I feel Too tired for anything but your supper and bed, I can see. Come along, darling, and try to eat, and I shall see a new look on your face before long." He wa right-rest and food were the main things she needed, and in half-an-hour she was smiling and taking" brightly of the future to her husband, with the boy by her side. Childlike, he had waked up to share the meal, and was prattling alternately to mammy and daddy," and driving away the care, whatever it was, that was oppressing her, and forcing her to smile back at his babv fun. I'll make a star of him yet," said the man, pulling his sturdy limbs, now this way and now that, in a fashion to make a tender mother wince and shrink. He has plenty of pluck, and he's strong and healthy too." "I think that he'd make something better than a dancer, or an acrobat either," said Christine. Look at his intelligent face." Well, he's no worse for being handsome. Women like to look at a good-looking fellow in tights. I'll teach 111111 my profession first, and let him learn what he likes after. I do believe you half despise me, Christine, because I can't patter like your fine actors; but I toll you what it is my girl-for one actor that gets a. good living now-a-days, there's a dozen acrobats and gymnasts who make their fortunes. I'll stick to the tumbling, wife." For answer, Christine put her arms round her husband's neck, and gave him kiss after kiss, till the little one set up a 11 jealous clamour of "Me too, mammy," and had to be caressed in his turn. "Despise you, Harry!" she said-and her voice was full of wifely love and pride. Despise my own husband, whose every care and thought is to make me happy! All! don't talk like that dear; you &now it isn't trac." 11 1 know I am only a rough chap, darling—only "fit to tumble in public-houses, and pick up a living •by the roadside—while you-" I'm only a poor showman's daughter, dear. That I ever had any education was chance work. I've cever been better off, nor happier, than since you made me your wife, and I never wish a better fate." Perhaps in all London there was not a happier couple than Harry Bartlett and his wife that night- happy In their altered fortunes, and ih their mutual love. No matter that their [homo was humble, and their supper frugal-they were together, with em- ployment for the present, and youth, health, and hope for the future, The very next day the teaching of the little boy commenced. The Infant Claude," his father dubbed him and in a very few hours it was plain to be seen that, baby though he was, he had all the natural qualifications for the profession to which he was destined. He was strong, lithe, and fearless, and, ere many days had passed, Harry Bartlett proudly boasted that the young 'un was fit for anything." And months passed on, and presently the tiny acrobat made a feature in the Christmas pantomime at the theatre, and crowds went nightly to see the fearless little fellow, who, as a chubby Cupid, came out of flowers and down moonbeams, and made havoc with the hearts of gauzy fairies. His earnings made no inconsiderable addition to the weekly income of the ballet-master, who was rejoiced at the success of his teaching, and spared neither pains nor expense to keep the little one healthy and happy; and the boy, unlike most children who figure in theatrical spectacles, who become old and worn before their time with late hours and gaslight work, seemed not to feel any ill effects, but looked as hearty and as rosy as a country- bred child. Offers for him began to pour in from provincial threatres, but Harry Bartlett very wisely refused them all. Time enough yet for all that," he said. Little Claude shall make a London reputation before he goes into the country." But alas, for human speculation! The theatre shared the fate of many another during the winter season, and was burnt to the ground one night after the performance; and as the London houses were most of them closing at the time, to take a country engagement was the only thing left for them to do. They were obliged to accept a very inferior one to what they had hoped for, but were still much better off than when they first came to London, and they did not grumble. Many of the company had nowhere to go, and nothing to fall back upon, with the slack season before them. On the same night the theatre was burnt, Lord Addeleigh and his son-in-law sat in the boxes. Though an east-end theatre, the perfection with which the pantomime had been produced attracted all playgoers to see it, and these two had sauntered in to wile away an hour. When the pretty little child shot out from the centre of a large lily, and stood poising his gilded bow upon the brilliantly-lighted stage, h;s lordship started, and exclaimed— Good Heavens Do you see that child, Lionel ?" "Yes," he answered. It's the child I saw the day before I was married. I'm sure it is." Why, he is your living image I" I know it. I see it, my lord. I must know more about that boy. I am sure the story the woman told me was not true." Why, you don't imagine that-" I hardly know what I imagine, but I must have that child's true history." Oh! I expect it is simple enough, my boy. What do they call him? Oh, the I Infant Claude.' Depend upon it that he'll turn out to be the son of that extremely common-place looking person who ap- pears to be the prime director of his actions. The likeness is extraordinary. The boy has not only your look but your gestures. Look at the very turn of your head—everything but the eyes." Yes, they are Rachel's eyes," Lionel murmured, but in too low a tone to reach the ear of his com- panion; "her loving, wistful eyes." And a cold thrill came over him as he thought what would be the terrible consequences if there had been any mistake in the terrible tragedy which had blighted his life. After the performance the two gentlemen went round to the stage door, only to find that Herr Bartlett and his little boy had gone home. Lionel would have followed them, late as it was, but his lordship laughed at the idea. Let the poor child get his supper and go to bed," he said. The theatre won't run away, nor will the boy and his father. To-morrow will be tim6 enough." But, ere they had gone half a mile, they retraced their steps at loud cries of "Fire I" and were eye- witnesses to the destruction of one of the handsomest and best appointed houses in London, albeit its patrons were of the lowest orders, and the whole night's en- tertainment could be seen from the commodious gallery for threepence. They lingered long enough to learn that nobody was hurt, and to say a few hurried words to the half- distracted manager about the possibility of getting up a benefit for the employes, and then hurried home, fearful lest Clare, who was in London with them, should be alarmed at their being so late. She was remarkably interested in all they had to tell her, and insisted that Lionel should make enquiries about the boy the very next day. It might be possible," she said, that the child was saved, though his mother was killed. Such things does happen sometimes." So Lionel promised to go. But » Man proposes and God disposes," says the proverb. The very next day Clare met with an ac- cident, not necessarily very serious in itself, but serious to her as the mother-expectant of an heir to the estates of Lord Addeleigh. A simple fall down a couple of steps caused her to sprain her ankle some; what severely, and for a fortnight her husband could think of nothing but her. His father-in-law more than once remembered the dark little face, with its flashing eyes, and wondered whether there was more than a coincidence in the startling likeness; but he was worldly wise, and reasoned within himself whether it was not better to let the matter drop. This poor little waif-so he argued-had no place in the world even if Lionel's strange notion was a true one. Herbert Temple had an heir-delicate in health, certainly, but likely to live; and it was probable that Lionel and Clare would have a family of their own to bring up. Better he should be forgotten. But Lionel bad not forgotten; and when his wife was once more able to come into the drawing-room, and all risk of any serious consequence was averted, he once more spoke of the little acrobat. I shall go and seek those people to-morrow, Clare, darling," he said, one evening. I must know the truth about that boy." I wish I could come with you," she replied put- ting up her pretty mouth to be kissed. Oh, Lionel, dearest." What is it, love ?" "If it is as you fancy; as you hope-for I see it in your face—you'll give him to me to love and care for, won't you? I'd be all a mother to him if I could." My dear Clare, you are taking a flying leap into the future," her father said, with a laugh. "The gentleman he belongs to at present may be able to prove his paternity; besides you'll soon have nursery affairs of your own on hand." Clare blushed, but Lionel whispered to her- If it is not fancy, love, if my Rachel's child by any miracle, still lives, you shall have him, be sure." Down to the ruins of the once pretty theatre Lionel and his father-in-law drove early next day, much to the disgust of his lordship's coachman, who, far more aristocratic than his master, turned up his nose at visiting such a locality. Arrived there, the address of the woman with whom the Bartletts lived was easily found, but the birds had flown. "Gone!" exclaimed Lionel in disappointment, when the woman had made the announcement. Where ?" To France, sir." France ? Yes." Do you know nothing more of them ? No." This was unpromising, but a silver key unlocked her tongue. "They are gone to France," she said, "to the surky something or other, I don't know what nor which. They were to have gone to Man- chester, but they got a fright, and broke the en- gagement." "A fright ? Yes—leastways, Mrs. Bartlett did." If How ? "Well, sir, I can't tell exactly; there was allers something mysterious about her and that child." Do you believe that it was her own ?" Lionel asked, earnestly. I don't know, sir," answered the woman. No one could be more fonder of it, but she allers appeared frightened to let it out of her sight, and the very day afore they were going to Manchester she took him out with her to buy him some things. They'd saved a bit of money, and had everything niceish about 'em.' Yes, yes," said Lionel, impatiently; go on." Well, sir, in about an hour she came tearing back in a cab, white as a ghost, and rushed upstairs like a madwoman, with the child clutched to her. I was in the room permiskus Hke, and heard all she said. Harry," she said, we must go out of the country; I've met him." "Who ?" says he. Him," savs she—" the man T met in Cornwall-we can't go too far away." Then he asked her where, and she said, in Covent Garden Market, where she'd taken the boy to show him the flowers." Stay," said Lionel, What day was this, and at what time ?" Last Wednesday week, sir," she replied. And about the middle of the day. It was between one and two when she got home." The landlady must have wondered very much what the gentleman was to her late lodger, for his face blanched to the very lips as he turned to his companion. There must be something in this, my lord," he said, "for I was in Covent Garden that day, getting some flowers for Clare, and that woman must have seen me." CHAPTER XII. MISS AMARANTH. AND the days and weeks passed by in their usual course, until the bright, glad sun of summer filled the earth with warmth and gladness, and Lionel Temple, back in his own home at Cornwall, ceased to think about the boy whose strange likenees to him- self had so puzzled him. Besides, he bad another object now in life, an infant daughter having come to bless his union with Clare, and draw together still closer the ties which bound them to each other in loving thraldom. It had been a disappointment to Lord Adde- leigh, and to his son-in-law as well, that the child had not been a boy but Lionel allowed no trace of this feeling to be exhibited to his wife-and his own regret had been so fully merged in a sense of thank- fulness that Clare was safe and the child healthy that he had no great trouble in deceiving her. There were great rejoicings in both the households over the "happy event," and they all united in making an idol of the little one, who, even in its babyhood, seemed to bear in its face the reflection of the mother's ethereal loveliness. The women-kind, as 'tis their nature to, elevated it for a time on the shrine of their own unreasoning worship, and forced all comers to bow down and pay homage before the helpless divinity, whose very weakness is the strongest title to man's fealty. The little one was christened after her mother, and inherited her fair complexion and soft blue eyes. Lionel was rather glad of this for he had somehow dreaded to see a dark-skinned baby, who should have reminded him of the days spent with Rachel and the brown-haired child so like himself, who, as he had fancied, might by some chance be his own, escaped from death. He had made every enquiry after the Bartletts, had even sent a trusty messenger to Paris to discover them, if possible, but all without avail. No trace of them or of their boy, if theirs he was, could be found-they all appeared to have vanished from off the face of the earth, and, as time went past on his noiseless flight, Lionel thought less and less about the object of his search, until at length his recollection of the boy grew dimmer and fainter, till he began to think that the fancied likeness had existed nowhere but in his own imagination, and his father-in-law took every means in his power to foster such a belief. Meanwhile Clare's baby grew and thrived, and the little heir at Tregarthen was a beautiful boy, though small and delicate, and Lord Adderleigh would often laughingly prognosticate that the whole of the estates would be united some day in the persons of the two lovely children. Herbert Temple would smile fondly at his boy as he watched him, and thought over his prospects, which he endeavoured to make even brighter by speculation. Not that the master of Tregarthen was a commercial gambler; but, having a very clear head for business, he went into things that to outside observers presented no very enticing appearance; and, thanks to his judgment, seldom without increas- ing the store which he was yearly laying by for his young heir. But the most careful men are bitten sometimes, and Herbert Temple was no exception to the rule. He meddled with some tempting stock cn an American line- a sound affair at bottom, but the whole manage- ment of which had fallen into the hands of a small band of unscrupulous and unprincipled riggers," who were fast making their own fortunes at the expense of their more honest partners in the scheme. Herbert could have afforded to lose the money, but, with the usual obstinacy of the true-born Briton, dis- liked the idea of "being done brown by such a set," as he expressed himself, and so, with a kiss to his wife and child, and;" good-bye to his friends for a few months, he started for the States to see wh at he could contrive to pick out of the fire. It is needleas for the purpose of th's story to recount the steps he took, or how, after a hard fight, and in more than one instance, narrow escape from the hands of some of the desperadoes with whom he had to deal, Herbert Temple succeeded in recovering a greater part of the money which, but for his energetic efforts, would have been totally lost to him, and returned to New York, from whence he intended to take his passage home. But the means of communication between the Old World and the New were not so numerous or so varied as they have since grown, and Herbert found himself in the great capital with nearly a fortnight's time on his hands to fill up before the next steamer started for Europe, and found it bang very heavy, now that his business was over, and he had nothing to occupy him. But he went about, visiting all places of interest and amusement, and one evening found himself at one of those miscellaneous places of entertainment, half tavern, half concert hall, which are common in all large cities. Seating himself at one of the tables, and lighting a cigar, he looked round him with a great deal of curiosity at the motley assemblage that was con- gregated together sailors, for the most part, of all nationalities, with a considerable sprinkling of the class so aptly described under the generic term loafer." Amongst a group 'of the latter, who were herded together at a table near the stage, Herbert's eye, fell upon a man whose face seemed strangely familiar to him. When or where he had seen it before he racked his brain in vain to remember. It was a striking countenance. The eyes were dark and piercing, and the nose slightly hooked, but the lower part of his face was covered by a large beard, which effectually concealed the mouth and chin. The man's hair was rough and untrimmed, and a broken-looking hat was set with a jaunty air on one side of his head. He wore an old dress suit of superfine cloth, which had once been black, but had long since resigned all claim to its pristine hue, and was now worn into an undis- tinguishable medley of green and brown. His shirt front, though ragged and dirty, was held together by cheap gilt studs, and his boots, once fashionable in shape and quality, were patched to the last degree. His hands were long and thin, unmistakably unaccus- tomed to manual labour, and his coat-sleeves were pulled carefully down over them to conceal che dilapidated state of his wristbands. Haggard and dissipated-looking as he appeared, there was an air of superiority to those around in his manner; but it was evident what cause had brought him to this state, for his eyes had a soddened, watery appearance, and the hand which raised the glass to his lips now and again, shook as if with palsy. Again and again Herbert Temple looked at him, in a vain attempt to recollect where he had seen him, for he had no doubt upon the point, and he was about to leave the place, for he had seen quite enough of the sort of entertainment that was provided, when a sudden light broke upon him, and, turning back again, he looked once more at the strange man, and said in an audible voice- Yes, I am sure of it—Bossanquet!" The man turned his head, but more, as it seemed at the sound of the exclamation, which caused many others to stare at the speaker, than from any recog- nition of the name. Herbert again pronounced it, looking straight at him, and at the same time approaching him. "Are you addressing me, sir?" the man asked, while several of the spectators looked curiously up, and stopped their conversation, for there was that in the Englishman's face which showed that it was not a friendly greeting that he meant. Are you speaking te me ?" repeated the man. "I did, Lieutenant Bossanquet," said Herbert, sternly. "If you have not forfeited your rank. I had no idea of meeting you here, but I should be glad, as I have found you, vo have some talk with you on my brother's aecount." You can talk away as much as you like," returned the other with a disagreeable laugh. But as I have not the honour of either your acquaintance or your brother's, whoever he may be, and I never happened to hear the name of the gentleman you are pleased to take me for in all my life, I can't imagine what you will find to say to me. However, if you are on for a chat I'm your man. I've plenty of time between this and to-morrow morning; only I should like to suggest, that as talking is thirsty work, you should stand a drink to enliven the conversation." A laugh from those around showed that the man' coarse raillery was appreciated, and several proposal were made that the stranger should stand a liquor all round but Herbert took no heed of what was said, and addressed the man once more. "You may not remember me," he said, coolly, as we never met but once, I believe, though I have seen you several times, and have good cause to re- member you." Indeed sneered the man. Do I owe you any- thing ?" My brother owes you something." Happy to hear: it-perhaps you'll stump up for him -not that I have ever found a brother ready to do such a thing." "We are only beating about the bush to no pur- pose," Herbert said sharply. "My brother is Lionel Temple of Tregarthen; he knows you only too well, and you know the account he has to settle with you. It is of no use your denying your identity even beneath this disguise. I can swear your being the man." Waal, stranger," broke in a tall, sallow-faced man seated at the table, and if he is the man, as you call him, I guess this air a free country, and any citizen may do as he darned please about what he calls him- self. You might get yourself into a pretty con- siderable muddle if you want to come any of your cursed British jaw over here-you might, I reckon." There was a murmur of approval as he finished speaking, and Herbert, looking round saw that he was the centre of attraction for several hundred pairs of eyes, all the owners of which looked perfectly capable of following up whatever those close around him chose to do. He was in danger, there was no doubt of that, and for a moment his heart stood still, and he thought of his home and the dear ones waiting for him; but he found help from the threatening crowd which hemmed him in, and from a quarter he had hardly expected it. Stop a moment," interposed the man whom he had addressed as Bossanquet. Perhaps the gentle- man will explain what he means—he's making a. mis- take, that's all." Ay, ay," shouted several voices. Let him ex- plain." Nay," said Herbert, rather staggered by the man's confidant manner, and persistent denial. "That is more than I can do. What I bad to say referred to private matters, not, as you evidently imagine, to a police case. I am no detective, only a private gentleman, who has met a great scoundrel under a false disguise." There was another murmur at these words, and Herbert could hear various pleasant suggestions on all sides as to what should be done with him. The excitement became so great, indeed, that even the performers came down from the stage, and joined in the hubbub. Turn him out!" Who is he ?" Some darned Britisher." "Gouge him!" "Chuck him in the river!" "Give him a ride on a rail!" "And a suit of feathers!" These and similar exclamations fell on his ears from all sides, and Herbert thought that every moment would bring them upon him-indeed, it wanted but one overt movement on his side to invite the attack- but, though he stood there alone, defenceless, it was not made. Another moment, and he might have found himself the centre of a struggling mob, all eager to get at him—for men are very brutal in such circumstances, and seem to find a fiendish pleasure in beating, kicking, and pulling, without knowing what offence has been committed; but Herbert Temple escaped from the ordeal, for once more the man, in whose behalf this threatening demonstrations were made, calmed the 'rising storm, and extended his protection over the object of it. "That'll do he shouted. "I'm much obliged to you all; but Bertie Grant can take his own part. Look here, mister," he continued, turning to Herbert, while the crowd gave way and left the two men con- fronting each other. I don't know your name, nor who you are but you can plainly see for yourself that I've only to speak the word and you'd go out of this place in a very different plight to whrm you entered it. You talk about a disguise and of know- ing me beneath it. I only wish that my seedy gar- ments were nothing more than a disguise. I'd willingly swop them. I can assure you I'm down on my luck, certainly but that doesn't give you nor anyone else the right to insult me. I tell you that you have blundered; I'm not the person you have done me the honour to take me for. My name is Grant-Bertie Grant, as plenty of my friends round me can testify." He cast an appealing glance at his companions as he spoke, and a chorus of voices clamoured forth, with strange oaths, the confirmation of his words. .1 I hope you're satisfied," he continued. Here is my card, and if you want nothing more of me, you had best make tracks for the door; for I shan't inter- fere any further in behalf of a man who won't take a gentleman's word." He spoke the last words with a lofty air, and flung down a limp, dirty-looking card on the liquor- stained table. Herbert picked it up, and read thereon the name which the man had given; but no address was on it. I am sorry," he began, if I have mistaken you, and can only apologise for my apparent rudeness by pleading your great likeness to the person I took you for, and asking your pardon for the blunder." Waal, now, I reckon that's a handsome apology," broke in the angular Yankee who had first inter- fered. "And I tell you what it is kyaptrin, there's only one thing needed to make it complete in every way." Indeed said Herbert, good-humouredly and, pray, how can I further atone ?" Waal, I guess, you've on'y to give the word to the boss to bring in a liquor all round, and that'll settle all." A chorus of voices echoed his demand, and Herbert, feeling that, no matter whether he was right or wrong, the majority was against him, gave the desired order to the landlord, and presently waiters appeared all over the large room, and Herbert was being shaken hands with by all round. The man whom he had addressed insisted on performing the same ceremony, and Herbert Temple went through it with inward repugnance, and shortly afterwards contrived to make his way to the door, which he was about to pass through with a sigh of relief, when a female voice upon the stage struck on his ear singing the first lines of a song. He started as though he was shot. Great Heavens he murmured, what is that ?" (To be continued.)

LADY (in registry office): I am afraid that little girl won't do for a nurse she is too small. I should hesitate to trust her with the baby." Manager: Her size, madam, we look upon as her greatest recommendation. You should remember that when she drops a baby, it doesn't have very far to when she drops a baby, it doesn't have very far to fall." AN old lady was viewing the exposed stock of some burnt-out store a few days ago. The burnt-edged bales were all strewn across the sideway. Above was a sign, "Another Sacrifice." "Another sacrifice ?" said the old lady. Yes, burnt offerings!"

FROM "THE COMICS." [FROM PUNCH." I SHOPPY '— Uxorious Editor (in his honeymoon): Kiss me, darling—' not necessarily for publication, but as a guarantee of good faith [Smack ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. To REMOVE THE EFFECT OF INKSTAINS ON BLUE SATIN FURNITURE.—Having had the misfortune to upset a bottle of ink over the light blue satin seat of an armchair of your handsome Louis XIII. drawing- room suite, your best plan will be to make the rest of it match as simply as possible. Get, therefore, several more bottles of ink and proceed to splotch all the other chairs, sofas, and ottomans recklessly in like manner. Having done this, give out to your friends boldly that it is a new Japanese design from Paris, and you may be tolerably sure that, though they will stare, they will admire and finally endeavour to match it. A red-hot poker and blotting-paper will be of no use. Don't hesitate, therefore, but go boldly to work. How TO UTILISE A FIRE-ESCAPE.—We think that having won the fire-escape in the raffle you mention, you were bound to receive it on delivery, and think you have done wisely to consign it, for the moment, to your front area. Take care, however, that it does not prove a means of admitting a burglar to your top storey, upon which, while the fire-escape occupies its present position, you will certainly do well to keep one or two armed detectives continually on the qui five. Yes, you can certainly cut off the ladder and turn it into kitchen chairs, and use the carriage part as a sort of low-pitched dog-cart, and, hiring a cab-horse, put in an appearance in it, as you suggest, in the park. But painted black it would make a nice sort of handy open, two-wheeled hearse, that might possibly be patronised now and then by a deceased friend of a sporting turn. This is only a suggestion. But think it out. There is something in it. LINES SUGGESTED BY AN ELECTOR. How happy is the Party penman's lot, Whether he wins or loses all is well. What though the counted votes against him tot? Success in failure his keen scent can smell. Loudly he crows when he the leek has eaten, And ne'er is so triumphant as when beaten. Equal to either fortune ? Better far, He snatches happy omens from defeat; Winning, he loudly thanks his lucky star, Losing, he finds in loss a savour sweet, Like one who with two-headed coin doth toss, Loss is but gain, but gain is never loss [FROM "MOONSHINE."] ABOUT USEFUL VALENTINES. By a Younger est Boy. Peiple noughadaze cend what thai cawl uceful valentines. It's a pitty, but peiple's vuze dipher a good deel about the ughtilite of a valentine. I wunce nu a young man who had a very nice young laidy, but she suphered tuthake. So he looked about for a nice uceful and pritty present to cend her on Valentine's Day, and wot do you think he cent ? Why, the gomme, instid of reeding the paipers, and conning the advertissements for a panny C her for her woze, he tuk and bort her a nice nu set of fawlce teath that cost five golden guinies. Wen she saw him again she upped and schracht his face. Moral.—Wen you're cending uceful valentines to peaple, take care not to make 'em too orphully uceful. Or anuther wai, as the kufckery buk ses. Before cending uceful valentines, tri and find out ferst wot uce they are to the peiple you are going to cend them to. Thare's a good deal of art about this, and it's mi beleeph thare is rume for a litel handbuk or treeties on this subgekt. Wen I groe up I think I'll rite such a buk micelph if nobodi elee ain't dun it; but at present I don't pheel quite up to it. You sea it's o very dellykit subgick to deal with, full of pit- forls, where, what the phrench cawl e fox par is eezelly made and not so eezeliy retrayct. [FROM FUN."] LITTLE PITCHERS.—His Fiancee's Small Sister "Isn't this a funny toy, Mr. Swaggertop! It's a monkey on a stick. Do you ever run up a stick, Mr. Swaggertop ?" Mr. Swaggertop Of course not, my little dear. Whatever made you ask such a question ?" The Little Biar-: 'Cause I heard pa say you were a perfect young monkey." FEARFULLY TAXING.—; That soreness you complain of arises from a febrile affection of the thorax; but pray let me ask you-do you expec- torate?" Paticnt:" Expect a rate!—oh, don't speak about it, sir IT is said that a lady is about to establish soup- stalls in London a3 a counter attraction to public houses." It is generally thought it is the counter attractions of the public-house itself that makes it a success. WHY is a detective, however clever, no match for a swindler at cards ?—Because the latter is the sharper, of course. CUTTING A WAY !—Ship-canals are all the rage just now. They are to be cut out all over the country, in the hope that they will cut out the railways. Each canal, being supported by strong banks, is pretty sure of finding plenty of money ready to be sunk in its construction; but the consideration that must give us pause is Can-all" pay ? THEY were discussing Sir William Harcourt, and there was a difference of opinion as to how many chins he had. One said three, another, four; but at last they came to the conclusion that his face was his four-chin." SOUND Agricultural Investment-Plough-shares. [FROM JUDY."] "You never know what may turn up," as the monthly nurse said to the father who complained of baby's nez retrousse. A RECIPE FOR AN ANCIENT BALLAD.—Take a knight, dress him up in armour, give him a high-sounding Norman title, set him on a gallant steed, and furnish him with a "quest" of some sort. A fair lady is also indispensable; she is usually a princess, and spends most of her time broidering a banner and per- forming her devotions in the oratory. Shovel in dragons, giants, Saracens, Paynims, false-hearted caitiffs and robber-barons ad libitum, and introduce by way of relief a few holy hermits and pilgrims in cockle- shell hats. A battle or two, in which the knight does most of the killing and performs prodigies of valour, is also to be recommended. Flavour the mess spicily with all the antique expressions you can lay your hands on, such as "Grammercy!" "By e' lakin!" Zounds! Odds bodikins By my halidome and so forth. When you are tired, wed the knight to the fair lady, or kill him and clap her into a convent. Either of these endings will give unbounded satis- faction. WE all know how Bill Sike's feelings were touched at last by a dog, but a cat would be more in harmony with the feline nature of the modern burglar. Hitherto, in the revolving ages-that is, in the ages of the revolver-he has distinctly scored against the law. It is now the turn of the law to score—the back of the burglar. When armed he has shown a bold front and got away unharmed. Let us see if he will show as bold a back when the harmful necessarv cat is let out of the warder's bag. THE SAGE OF (NOT CHELSEA) THE KERBSTONE.— S'posing as yer were writin' to the papers, Villum, wot noos would yer say sold best ?" Well, now, if yer ain't got no Gineral Gordin or a prize-fight, Charles, I should say as 'ow a race were a good stiddy trade. A haccident, look yer, they only looks at the placards an'says 'Dear, dear!' Then yer 'Divorce in 'Igh Life' do 'ave a wonderful sale in them 'ighly respectable streets. But wot 'its the public fancy is yer "Orrible Houtrage,' with horful and disgusting details an'—if they'd only 'ave some more revela- tions we'd (and the rest was something about tripe and inions," "sassigcs and mash," and other visions of bliss.) [FROM FUNNY FOLKS.] OUT IN THE COALED.—In the correspondence about Waltzing in the Daily Telegraph, one writer said no gentleman can claim to be a perfect dancer unless he can waltz with his partner on a space the size of a coal-plate. Little Binlcs: You promised me a. dance at Mrs. Miniver's to-night, Miss Kate. Will you do me the pleasure of a little practice here on this coal-plate ?" TALKING IN THE ZOO.— Tommy: "Pa, which is the lioness ? Is it that one with the scratched face and the sad expression ?" Papa:" No, Tommy, my boy; that's the lion." MRS. KENDAL has invented an omnibus" fan. It carries a pair of scissors, a glove-buttoner, a little mirror, hairpins, and half a hundred other things. But why is it called the omnibus fan ? Because it is always full inside ?"