The Cardiff Times

DEATH OF AN EMINENT WELSH PREACHER. The Australian mails, which have just arrived in this country, brought with them the sad news of the death of the Rev. Owen Edwards, B.A., of Melbourne. Mr Edwards was well known throughout the Principality, and also outside Wales wherever Welshmen resided. He was a native of Llanuwchllyn, he and Mr Owen M. Edwards. M.A., Oxford, being cousins. After taking his degree Mr Edwards studied at the German Universities, and finally accepted a hearty call to the pastorate of the English Presbyterian Church at Llanelly. After labour- ing there for several years with marked success, to the great regret of his church and a large circle of friends in South Wales, he accepted a pressing invitation to the pastorate of Castle-square Church at Carnarvon. Here again his success as a pastor and preacher was most rapid, and the church flourished greatly but in the midst of his labours be was stricken down with illness, and, acting on the advice of eminent medical men, he left this country for Australia. Mr Edwards had not arrived in Melbourne before his wife, who had been ailing for some time, was carried off by death, leaving three little boys motherless. On his arrival in Australia he received a hearty wel- come from the Welsh Church in Melbourne. In time hewas strong enough to preach occasionally, and in a few months he was able to undertake the charge of the church. This was a little over eight years ago. Five years back he paid a short visit to Wales, and preached at one or two of the associations. Returning to Australia, he davoted himself entirely to tho charge of the Welsh church, occupying the pulpit twice every'Sunday, and often exchanging pulpits with the Rev. Dr. Llewellyn Bevan, the distinguished Congrega- tional divine. Some six weeks ago he caught a chill, which terminated fatally in i$BS than a week's time. Much sympathy is felt with his sister, who kept house for him in Australia, also with Mr and Mrs Meyrick Jones, Dolgelley, whose daughter Mr Edwards married 15 years ago, and whose three little orphan boys have found in their grandparents tender and loving guardians. Mr Edwards' mother still lives all Llanuwchllyn.

GELLIGAER ENDOWED SCHOOLS The Rev. Canon WADE moved, at the Merthyr Board of Guardians on Saturday, a resolution, as follows;— That in the opinion of this board, the scheme of the Joint Education Committee of the county of Glamor- ganshire, as published by the Charity Commissioners, be disapproved of in so far as it proposes to take away the endowments of the Gelligaer Charity and alienate them to purposes outside the parish of Gelligaer, which forms part of the Merthyr Union and, further, that the CharityCommisilioner3 be requested to hold a local inquiry before finally approving of any scheme, and that a copy of this resolution be forwarded to the Ch&rity Commissioners. He allowed that seemingly it was rather late in the day to bring the matter on at that board, but it was only lately that it was made known to him that they had an interest in the charity as in- volved in their right to elect %t certain periods a governor upon the managerial board of the schools at Pengam. Mr h P. EDWARDS seconded the motion. The Rev. J. P. WILLIAMS supported it, saying the feeling of the parishioners of Gelligaer was very strong. Mr DAVID DAVIES, C.U., intimated that in his opinion they were not an educational authority, and he could not see his way to vote for or against the motion. I Rev. Alderman AARON DAVIES, said, as one of the joint education committee, he was not going to take part in the voting on this question, but he reminded them that they were going to vote upon a scheme the altered character of which they were not acquainted with. Rev. Canon WADE having replied to several points raised, a show of hands was taken, with the result that the motion was carried by a large majority, nono of the* several dissentients voting against it.

TERRIFIC THUNDERSTORMS. A thunderstorm, accompanied by hail, broke out over Bradford and district on Sunday afternoon, and raged for about an hour. Several houses were struck by lightning, chimneys being knocked down, and other damago done, but, with one exception, there was no injury to persons. The Bowling Police-station was struck shortly after two o'clock. A large hole was knocked in the roof, and Sergt. Staple, who was in the office, was struck, and at first it was thought he was killed, but in the course of an hour or two he returned to consciousness, and it is expected he will recover. A thunderstorm of great severity passed over East Durham on Sunday afternoon. Large hail- stones covered the ground, and the rain fell in torrents, accompanied by forked lightning.

[ALL EIGHTS RESERVED.] The Mystery of Jasper Janin-. BY J. E. MUDDOCK. Author of "A Wingless Angel," As the Shadows Fall," "A World witliiiit World," "The Luck of Logie," "A Wild Beauty," Whips and Scorns," &c..

CHAPTER IX. The Heart is a Riddle to-day—to-morrow the Riddle Is Read. The scene that Harold Grayling 'had so unex- pectedly witnessed in the hall of Jasper Janin's residence on the night when he saw a strange man hurry away, puzzled and troubled him, so that all night through he tossed about on his bed restless and pained. In championing Janin and Miss Meyrick he bad quarrelled with his friend Julius, and then almost immediately afterwards he heard words from the lips of a stranger which seemed to verify the doctor's suspicions and it is certain that as he dwelt upon this matter the feeling grew upon him that Janin was a man to be e avoided. But when he would have made a resolution to this effect there came before his mental eyes the face of Miss Meyrick, and then he faltered m his purpose—for some- how that face had fascinated him, and he felt drawn towards it irresistibly, whether it might be for good or ill. He was quite conscious of his weakness with reference to this woman. He felt that he was acting in a manner that was—to use the mildest term—indiscreet, for even as his friend had said she might be nothing more than an adventurer. But when did youth stay to count the cost of a love affair? It was the old story of the giant struggling in the silken web—the more he strug- gled to be free the tighter grew his bonds. Not that it must be assumed that Harold was really in love with Helen Meyrick. He might be a long way off that point, as it is more probable that at that early stage a month's, or even a week's separation from her would have been sufficient to have effaced her image from his heart. But it was certain that he thought of her with more than ordinary interest, and ho often found her occupying much of tire attention that he might and ought to have. bestowed upon other thing?. Being thus within the radius of the influence, he was naturally drawn towards the attracting medium. But lying and pondering as he did that night his feelings underwent various changes. One half-hour he made a stern resolution that he would in future treat the young lady with any amount of indif- feronce, and the next he rescinded the resolution as altogether untenable. Then as the wintry sun struggle in at his bedroom window, he remem- bered that he had savpd Miss Meyrick from the all-devouring sea. And now she was in trouble again, and it is my duty to save her if possible once more," he cried, as he sprang fi-om his bed, and scattered all his previous resolutions to the winds, and determined to see her with the least possible delay. So it came to pass that long before the sun had reached the meridian Harold found himself knocking at the door. of The Retreat," his heart beating far beyond its usual rate, and his face slightly flushed, as though somewhere in the deeper depths of his being there was a dumb voice which reminded him that he was acting in a manner not altogether right. That is right in accordance with the strict code morale which Pegwell had drawn up to be rigidly ir observed by those who were desirous that their reputations should appear spotless in the fierce fight that beat upon the circumscribed and briny v i I' ale. He knocked at the door several times before he got a reply, a circumstance unusual, and alto- gether beyond his comprehension and then lie was informed by one of the servants—Jasper Janin only kept two, and they were both old women—that Miss Meyrick was out. The woman had no idea where the young lady had gone to. or why she had gone—a piece of information that annoyed and astonished Harold, because it was something strange for Helen Meyrick to be out, at least at such an hour as that. In reply to his further query as to whether Mr Janin was at home, he was informed that he was but though he bad been downstairs, ho had retired to his bedroom again, having first given strict orders that he was not to be disturbed. It will thus be seen that Harold bad no alterna- tive but to go away, and this ho did much chagrined, and still more puzzled, What is the meaning of this?" was his thought, as he wandered along, scarcely heeding whither he was going to. There is something wrong, that is clear," he continued, still pursuing his cogitations, and I should like to get to the bottom of the mystery but still, I don't think I am doing right in wishing to pry into the business of these people. Whatever there may be against them elsewhere, there is certainly nothing against them here. They pay their way, and have little to do with anyone. Why, then, should I trouble myself about them ? Although Grayling reasoned thus with himself, he found that he could not dismiss the subject in any off-hand manner. Tlio ".tff;tirs of these people" had an absorbing interest for him, in spite of himself. Though it is more than possible that had Helen Meyrick been an old instead of a young woman, he would have relegated the "mystery of Jasper Janin" to the "limbo" of forgotten things. X/eing disappointed at not having seen Miss Meyrick, he was decidedly out of temper, and concluded in his own mind that, as the day was fine. a walk might have the effect of restoring his rumed feelings to their habitual serenity. There had been a keen frost the previous night, and the roads were still as hard as iron, for the rays of the sun were too feeble as yet to exert any influence. A brisk wind was blowing, and piped shrilly amongst the leafless branches of the trees. and the sea was beating against the cliffs and roaring hoarsely, like some savage monster raven- ing for prey. Patches of spotless drift-snow were lying on the hillsides, and these same hills stood in perfect outlines against a clear blue sky. The holly bushes in the hedge-rows-the holly flourishing amazingly m Pegwell—were heavily laden with red berries that seemed redder by con- trast with the snow that had drifted into the hedge banks. Pegwell itself, with its wondrously crooked streets, its gleaming houses that for the most part were adorned with green shutters, was as pretty a picture as could have been witnessed anywhere--that is, when viewed from a distance for in this case distance truly lent enchantment to the view. One could have imagined, then, that some magician had rattled the houses upijin a huge dice-box, and then tumbled them out with » total disregard to regularity. Some were perched up on the hillside, others retreated into corners, others again were in the hollows, and some seemed to be actually standing on the roof of those below. Ihe main street was like a see-saw plank, one end was high up, the other was low down. But all this diversity, and irregularity, and apparent want of method were grotesque and pituresque from afar off. Distance softened the harsh angles and hid a good deal of the rottenness and decay that were painfully apparent in the older portions of the town. A nearer inspection did awav with much of the charm, for then an ancient and flush- like smell in the air could be detected, for Pegwell was of fish, fishy. Some. of the streets, too, were shockingly paved. A primitive kind of pavement had been adopted, husre boulders were rammed into the ground and were so arranged that they formed splendid traps for breaking horses' shins, and in the interstices between the stones the water collected and made mud puddles, which were the delight of the juveniles, but the terror of ladies. Then, again, the gutters seemed to have been specially designed with a viow how best not to carry off the water. And in rainy weather the streets were converted into swamps, and the rain poured off the housetops in continuous sheets, so that very few persons but those whom business com- pelled, and the half-amphibious fisherman, ventured out at such A time. But this is the worst aide of Pegwell, wb'ob unght be likened untu a nut whereof the kerb el was slightly decayed but tho shell was soiind and beautiful. Fishermen, sailors, and that nondescript class which it is difficult to define, but which is poculiar to a seaside village, formed a large percentage of the population. And after the manner of their kind they herded together, a.ud were sublimely indifferent to sanitary regulations. But on that particular ITlornins;" as Harold wandered along with his mind dwelling Upon Miss Meyrick, Pegwell was a picture of loveliness, for tiie winter bun gilded it, and the sea breeze twisted the columns of smoke from its ebituneyis into fantastic wreaths—nor was Harold alto. gether insensible to the picture. Several of the best houses down there were his property, and he felt a little proud as a sense of his freedom and independence stole over him, and, impressed by such a feeling as this, he thought— "I wish I could be of service to Miss Meyrick, and make her life as happy as I would wish it to be." It was strange how his mind ran upon this young lady, to tho neglect of the poor blind girl who had been his playmate in childhood and his companion in later years. Not that he could be accused of being false to Maty, but he had been a little dull perhaps, and bad failed to read her heart. Or, it might be that he had known her too long to feel for her any other but that love which an affectionate brother would naturally give to a sister. If Mary had been in danger he would have been the first to have sprung to her assistance. Had she been insulted, he would have felled her insulter to the ground without a moment's hesitation. He would have laughed with her, have shared her sorrow, or have mourned when she mourned. Bnt notwithstanding all this? he was influenced far more then by Miss Meyrick than by Mary Bland- uAthiul h« tmbiACted his feslinsrs to a critical analysis, he would readily have per- ceived that he was being lured, as it were, by a shadow te the brink of a. gulf. and no one would have more radily acknowledged the stupidity of shadow-chasing than he. For he was sound and practical in his views, and possessed none of the sickly sentiment which contaminates many young men of his age. But there is a period in our lives when we unconsciously acknowledge the power of soma strange influence. We yield to it, we are led by it, although it maybe for evil. Harold was experiencing something of this, and what the result would be tho future alone could disclose. After a brisk walk, during which the keen air had bruught a ruddy flush to his face and a splendid bri'liancy to his eyes. so that lie looked positively handsome, he reached the Seven Bells. Groups of fishermen discussing the probable weather that was likely to ensue, and a few coastguardsmen were standing about, and they all touched their caps respectfully and wished Harold good morning as he passed. Hulk) Master Grayling," cried John Archer, as Harold entered, what has brought you down so early 1" Nothing very particular, John. I felt inclined for a walk, and with no special purpose in view came down here." Well, I am glad to see you," Archer returned. You will come into the parlour for a while, and have a bottle of ale ?" "Yes, I think I will, John, and. look here. bring the bread and cheese, for this walk has sharpened my appetite. Well, have you any news ?" Harold asked, when Archer had pro- cured the things and was preparing to till his pipe- „ No, I think not," was the answer, except- ing that that fellow who was saved from the wreck, and who went away so suddenly on the following morning, has been here again." You mean Stringer 5"' Harold observed, in astonishment. "y e, that's the name. He arrived yesterday and engaged a bed, and this morning Miss Mey- rick came down to see him." "Miss Meyrick ?" Harold echoed, dropping bis knife on the table as ho was in the act of cutting some cheese—" Miss Meyrick been here ?" "Yes," returned Archer, looking a little puzzled as he noticed the astonishment with which Harold had received the announcement. She was here quite early, and seemed to be in desperate trouble about something. Her eyes were red, too, as though she had been crying, and her face somewhat the colour of that c!otb," pointing to the snowy napkin that encircled the cheese. Harold was gasing at the speaker in mute amazement, to the total neglect of his luncheon. What did she want with him ?" he asked, the question being rather an echo of his own thoughts than one to which he expected Archer to give him an answer. "Ah, that I can't tell you. There's something strange between them, that's all I know. I showed her into the private sitting-room, and then sent word to Stringer that he was wanted. He kept her waiting near half an hour before he came down, and when he opened the door of the room I heard him say, with a kind of sneer, So you ve oome to your sensos, have Well, well, what happened then T' Harold asked impatiently, as Archer paused to light a pipe-hght at the fire. I don't know further than that it seemed to me they were quarrelling. Of course I couidn'fc help hearing this as I stood in the bar. I know that the young lady was crying very much, and he seemed to be very ansry with her about some- thing. I was half tempted to go into the room several times, but you see it was not my business to interfere with my customers. But somehow I had an idea that the man was bullying Miss Meyrick, and I felt as if I should like to knock him nawn." AV*iioever the fellow is, he is a scoundrol," Harold exclaimed indignautly, while his eyes tlllshed. and his face grew scarlet. Well, that is just my opinion," Archer remarked, hub you see it is hardly any business of ours." "It is our business to protect a woman from insult," Harold cried, rising from the tablo with a troubled look upon his face, and then standing with his back to the fire and his coat-tails ovor his arms, while he twirled his thumbs one about the other iu a restless, nervous way, as though he felt It difficult to remain inactive when wrong was being perpetrated. It may be our business to protect a woman when she is openly insulted before our facs," John answered, "but I don't see what right we have to interfere with the private affairs of other people." Harold took two or three hasty turns up and down the room. He was evidently wrestling with his feelings. He burned with a desire to offer assistance and sympathy to Miss Meyrick if they were needed. And yet he knew perfectly well that this was a Quixotic notion. What was she to birr-i-or he to her ? He was bound to answer and say" Nothing," further than that ho had been instrumental in saving her life and that fact, coupled with her lonely condition, might justify him in cherishing for her a feeling of warm friend- ship only. "You are right, John, you are right. John," he remarked, ones more resuming his position on the hearthrug, and with his back to the fire. "If I may be allowed to remark," Archer observed, I should say the less you have to do with these people the better." What people ?" Why, Air Janin and Miss Meyrick," Why ?" Harold asked a little sharplyt Because there is something altogether strange about them. You can't'find out who they are, or what they aro. They are a mystery, and may bo bad for aught we know." I am sorry tliat you are tainted with the feeling of the common gossip of the town," Harold exclaimed. "Because Mr Janin doesn't cliooaa to get on to the housetop and proclaim his wholo history everyone is ready- to fling mud at him. I for one refuse to believe or even think that this Miss Meyrick has been guilty of anything wrong. Her face is the very picture of beauty and inno- cence." Archer smiled at Harold's enthusiasm. He knew that it proceeded from his impulsive and kindly nature, that was slow to think evil of any- one and he still further knew that that warm advocacy of Miss Meyrick was also attributable m a large measure to an admiration that had sprung up in Harold for a young, beautiful, and almost friendless girl, and around whose history a veil of romance apparently hung. "I am bound to confess that she ia a bonny lassie," Archer said, so far as looks and appear- ance are concerned but you don't know what her heart is like, Master Grayling. Many a handsome looking poach has a worm at its core." Grayling could not refute the homely logio of the landlord, and yet he felt annoyed-annoyed because be wished to think Miss Meyrick as good as she looked, and any suggestion of the proba- bility of her being different to what he wished her to be galled him. Of course, this was very foolish. And no one possibly would have been more ready to confess its foolishness than Harold himself. But then he was young. He was a man, and she was a woman, youn? and beautiful, and man and woman were born to love. This sentiment is 6no that has rung in the human heart since time began and will continue to ring so long as time shall last. Harold would have liked to have said something in answer to John's last remark, but he restrained this desire, for he knew that it was a question that might have been argued for hours without any good results. Then, when did Miss Meyrick go away 1" he asked rather suddenly, and as though he was a little surprised that it should not have occurred to him to ask the question before. Let me see—they must have been gone nearly an hour." "They? Who do you mean?" Harold ex. claimed with a quick, hurried glance at the face of Archer, as though he was trying to read his thoughts, this Stringer and the young lady." Then they have gone together ?" Yes, and in a way that rather surprised me. Stringer came and asked for his bill, although I understood when he arrived that he was going to remain for several days. He said he was going to take the next train to Exeter, from whence he would be able to catch a night tram for London. A few minutes after he had got his bill, he came to me again for some smelling salts and brandy, as Miss Meyrick was a little unwell. I asked him if I should send my wife in. but he said no, it wasn't requisite. A little while after he bad gone back to the room, I heard Miss Meyrick say, Oh, my God, have you no pity, no pity ?' Stringer had ordered the gig, and when it was ready he and Miss Meyrick got in, and my man drovrs them over to the station." "You say that Miss Meyrick went too ?" Harold asked, as though ho could not credit what she had heard." To London ?" he almost gasped. Ah. That I cannot 81\Y. There was silence for some moments. Archer puffed the smoke from his pipe in a thoughtful manner, and be watched the blue wreaths curl up to the ceiling, as though they would help him to solve the mystery. Harold's brow was darkened with a frown, his teeth were clenched, and his hps finwJy pre$tec}» Soma strong resolve was coming into hIS heart. Juha, have you a horae ia the atabiefhe suddenly exclaimed. "Y«s, the brown ijnare." M Order her to be 8&dd qafeldy." Archer made no remark: it was his duty to obey his customers, however eccentric their orders might seem lie did, however, cast an inquiring and puzzled look at Harold, who failed to notice it, for his eyes were bent on the fire. And so John left the room. Theu Harold buttoned up his coat, pressed his hat on his head, strode up and down the room impatiently and troubled, until it was announced that the mara Waited at the door. In a few minutes more, actuated by some stern purpose, he was galloping away toward* therail. way station. CHAPTER X. Strange News. About the same time that Harold Grayling was pursuing his way to the railway station, after his conversation with Archer at the Seven Bells, Jasper Janin and Miss Blandford were together; in the drawing-room of The Retreat. Although Janin had given orders to his ser- vant that he was not to be disturbed, he had made an exception in favour of Mary, who was to be there by prior appointment, as. Janin was anxious to subject her eyes to a final examina- tion previous to the operation which it had been arranged should be performed on the fol- lowing day. He appeared to be more than usually anxious and nervous in his manner, and Mary, with that j instinct which is so largely developed in blind persons, did not fail to notice it. She, like Harold, had felt a little surprised that Miss Meyrick was out, more especially as Helen had known of the engagement, and had promised to meet Mary, who, now lacking the support of one of her own sex, felt a little cast down and, like a person who trembles on the verge of a crisis, she might have had some dim and shadowy fore- boding of coming evil, more especially as she became aware that Janin was labouring under great agitation. Is the operation a very painful and dangerous one ? she asked in a tono of nervous dread, as she allowed her mind to dwell upon the coming event. And it is well known that persons who have to submit to the knife of the surgical operator, suffer more by thinking of what they will have to endure than by the actual deed. You may feel a little pain subsequently," Janin answered, but none during the perform- ance of the operation, as chloroform will be administered. Could I save you from even the smallest pang of pain how gladly would I do so- nay, if it were possible by any suffering to spare yon, I would suffer without a murmur. But mental sorrow and physical pain cannot be bcrne for us by proxy." You are very kind to take so much interest in me, Mr Janin," Mary remarked, touched by tho though tfulness and half-sad tone in which he spok,.g. I should scarcely be a man if I took less interest," he answered, and laying his hand upon her head so that she thrilled with the touch, for the hand of a person laid upon the head of another with the touch of sympathy or love has an influ- ence that can be compared with nothing else. The mother places her hand upon the head of her child and murmurs a blessing, and years after- wards when the child has grown to be a man, and sorrow, it may be, hasdarkenedhislife, .tho memory of that hand-touch and the blessing that accom- panied it comes back, and is like a draught of sweet water to the parched lips of the dying traveller in the desert, or the wounded soldier on the field of battle. And this laying on of hands was hallowed and sanctified by the Divine Father when centuries ago he told the mothers of Jerusalem to suffer their children to come unto Him, and the touch of the hand of love lingers amongst our holiest memories. How many persons who have reached the years of maturity can say that they have never with a soul-yearning cried, Oh for a touch of a vanished hand, and the sound of a, voice that is still ? Mary drew Janin's hand gently down and held it in her own, and from her sightless eyes tho tears fell-fell upon the hand she held, but Janin did not withdraw it. Why are you weeping ?" he asked, softly. She did not answer him then. She was thrill- ing with an emotion that has no name. Perhaps the remembrance of her affliction caused her to ba unduly sensitive at that mordent, for her twelve long years of darkness had made her life a little sad. Many of those pleasures which are enjoyed .by other girls had been denied to her, on account of her helpless and dependent condition. And perhaps she never felt so forcibly as she did at that moment how thoroughly helpless and depen- dent she was. Perhaps, too, the hand-touch and the gentle word had caused a chord m the depths of her soul to vibrate, as they brought back the memory of the hand and touch of one who seemed of late to have grown a little neglectful. She was a woman now, and her childhood was, as it, were, a long blank, a desert-way, an arid plain that had been travelled alone, and in which there had been no pleasant pictures, no flowers, no sun. And so this man and woman sat there in silence —sat facing each other. The man upon whom sorrow and mystery had set their mark, and the woman from whose eyes the light had long de- parted. But in her heart there was yet the long- ing to have the question that she had put to Janin fully answered—"Is the operation a very painful and dangerous one ?" she had asked, and though it was the latter part to which she was anxious to have an answer, ho had only spoken of the pain. "You did not tell me if the operation was likely to be attended with much danger," she remarked, as she wiped her wet face. Janin did not answer immediately. He was evidently puzzled. It is not always policy for the physician to tell his patient how near he or she stands to tho brink of the grave. Some such thought as this, no doubt, was the cause of Janin's silence; but after a while he made answer and said- For me to tell you that there will be no danger would be an untruth. But by skill and careful watching I hope to reduce the risk to a minimum." "Then it is possible that I might die," she asked abruptly. "There is always that possibility even after the most simple operations," he answered. "In your case, however, it is nothing more than a remote possibility, for you have youth, and health, and strength in your favour. Thereforo, let me entreat of you not to dwell upon the sub- ject, as it is of the highest importance that you should be calm and patient." You mistake the import of my question," she returned, emphasing the words as she uttered them, I am not afraid to die, but I have an unconquerable desire to live. Patient I have been. Through all the years of my darkness no one has ever heard me muimur. Calm I will be, and I have faith in you. What more can I do and be?" You are a brave little woman," he answered, and you will make a grand wife for someone." It was a strong remark, and it had a strange effect upon his listener. Her face grew scarlet, and then suddenly paled again. She rose from her seat, stood up straight before him and her nether lip quivered. Wife to whom ?" she exclaimed in a voice that told too plainly that she was suffering from strong emotion. Pardon me, Miss Blandford," Janin said, kindly, I did not mean to be offensive." I did not impute offensiveness to you," she answered, nor am I offended at what you said. But I shall be wife to no man." She uttered this with so much irony, so much bitterness, that Janin looked at her in utter astonishment, ior she seemed suddenly to have changed from a patient, uncomplaining girl, to a disappointed and broken spirited woman. Be wife to no man?" he repeated, as though he had not quite understood her. Never." Never?" be echoed. Then he added quickly, Ttit, tut, my child. It is not good for you to talk like that. Bright days are in store for you. Days when a husband's love and children's laughter will compensate you for any sorrow you may have known.' "Mr Janin," she answered, with a sad smile, these things that you sneak of can never bo for me. Never, never," she repeated, as if to herself. I think you are nervous, inolined to be a little morbid to-day," Janin observed. "It is not for me to probe your heart, or to attempt to drag its hidden secrets to light. But surely there is something cankering there, when a young woman like you, endowed as you are with youth, beauty, intelligence, and amiableriess, and all other qualities which make a woman loveable in the sight of a man, takes such a gloomy view of the future." Ah," she sighed, in the history of all our lives there are some pages that we keep sealed." (To Ic continuei. J

SOUTH WALES PRINTING WORKS. Annual Wayzgoese. Mainly through the generosity of Messrs D. Duncan and Sons, tho employees ef the South Wales Printing Works, Cardiff, numbering about 35, were enabled on Saturday to proceed to Cheddar, and thoroughly enjoy themselves. Special through arrangements having been made with Messrs Edwards, Robertson, and Co., the party left the Pier-head as early as 7.30 a.m., pro- ceeding to Weston by boat, the j. >uney from Weston being made by brake which, owing to the fine weather that prevailed, was enjoyed im- mensely. On arrival at Cheddar dinner was pro- vided in Host Bragg's usual excellent style, and was done justice to by the party, after which the health of the Messrs Duncan was drunk with enthusiasm. In the afternoon, whilst some pro- ceeded to view Mr Cox's caverns, and others to explore the mysteries of paper-making, as carried on at the Paper Works at Cheddar, the more athletic of the party journeyed up the famous pass, through the picturesque plantation, and enjoyed from the top of the cliffs a splendid view of the surrounding country. The whoie party arrived back at the Cliff Hotel at 4 p.m., where tea was provided, after which they proceeded on tne return journey, which, judging from ap- pearances at the Pier-head at 9.30 p.m.. where the committee received the congratulations of all present, was a grand termination to a very sue. cessful and enjoyable day's outing.

-¥-- THE editor of the Medical Annual atter a care ful examination of Cadbury's Cocoa, pronounces it to h both a food and a beverage of the highest qty 1AJ

Dymunir i'n gohebwyr Cyinreig gyfeirioeu obeb. iaethau, llyfrau i'w hadolygu, &c., fel y canlyn Dafydd Moryanwy, Morgunwg House, Llantivit- street, Cardiff.

BARDDONIAETH. Y DDAFAD. Brenhines bryniau anian-yw dafad, Mewn rhyw dyfol hugan O'i bywyd ceir llog buan, A saig Jew geir is ei gwlan. Trecastell. D. J. DAVIES.

Y LLAW, ArE deall cryf y diwyd,—yn medru Tasg ineidrol feddyifryd t Rhwyt celf a llafur hefyd Yw llaw bert, a llyw y byd. Trecastell. D. J. DAVIES.

Y GAREG FILLDIR. Careg wen ar ben mitldir bydd-yn dyat, Y11 dweyd gwir rhwng trefydd; Yn y wlad mor rhad y rhydd Haues hwylus heolydd. Deil ei swydd fel delw syn-ger y clawdd, Fyg oracl ar erchwyn Car adrodd i bob crwydrvn Ei deg gamp mown (iu a gvvyn. Trecastell, D. J. DAVIES (Llywel).

ER COF Am y Parchedig H. EURFVL JONES, Mori ah, Mynydd Cynttig. Ei Heurfyl geir wedi darfod-a byw, Hyn i bawb sy'n chwithdod; Y sant eirian, g-Jân ei g!od, Y mae'n tewi Hlewn tywod. Ha! yn y tywod nid tewi—y mae 'I enaid mawr, ond moli Eu Brynwr, uwch gwybreni, o fewn braf drigfanau bri. Ein Heurfyl a geir yn nhyrfa—enfawr Y Gwyufyd yn gwledda; Mirain yw sain ei Hossnna I'n hethawl Oen, mewn bythol ha\ O. Eurfyl! byr fu ei yrfa,—er hyn Mawr waith ya Moriah j Gyflawnodd ac fe lyna • i 1'1' hynod wr enw da. Rhyw aur delyn drwy'r ardnloedd-yn rhwydd Wefreiddiai y bobloodd, Oedd ef, a nefoedd, Ar ran Ion, ein harwaiu oedd. MYDydd Cynlfig. CYNFFIGWYSOX.

Mrs Gallup Norah, didn't I see you kissing my husband this morning ?—Norah I can't say as to that but 1 didn't intend you should. Young architect (enthusiastically): Why, when you get into the new house you won't know yourselves.—Miss Nurich Excuse me, it will be obher people we won't know. Thompson Jones seems to be very popular. I wonder what's the reason ?—Johnson It's all due to the way he greets a man.—"Yes? Nine times out of-ten he says Lot's have something.' AN INCOMPLETE CLEANSING.—" Yes, sir," said Jaysmith, I washed my hands of the entire tran8acion." Why didn't you use some soa.p 1" asked Cumso, with a glance at the hands alluded to. Johnny Don't they use bark to tan hides with, pa?—Father: Yes, my son; lut if you ask any more q jestions this evening, you will find that a slipper does just as well. The Young Mau Gracie, what is it your father sees in mo to object to, darling ?—The Young Woman (wiping away a tear): He doesn't see anything in you, Algernon; that's why he objects. Lady: I am surprised at the large price yot. are now charging for coals.—Agent: You must remember, madam, coals are coals nowadays. Lady I am ghd to hear it, for the last lot yo supplied me with was largely comprised of slate. KNOCKED OCT.—Enterprising Druggist: Here'" a card, madam. Every time you buy something punch ic. When ten shillings are punched you get five soda water tickets free.—Madam That's a fine idea. I'll take ten shillings worth eft postage stamps now. Dure PROCESS OF LAW.—Stranger (in Ne« York): What is that peculiar noise in the city hall building ?—Resident That whirr in the district attorney's office ? — Stranger Yes. Resident Oa, the clerks are quashing indict' ments of returned embezzlers. Charlie is dead, and I guess he died happy- At all events he ought to have died happy. r was only a week ago that he got his life insuret for ten thousand dollars," Well, the first piece of luck Charlie ever had in his lifet- What a pity he couldn't have lived to enjoy it." Mr Van Houston Lots (to tramp who has pre* sented himself in the dining-room without thfr formality of an announcement) What do yot mean, fellow ? Do you know in whose presence you are ?—Tramp Oh. yes but there wua < time when I wuz particular, and now I'm ree'lest an' don't care a hang. She Darling, please teli the grocer to'send mC up a half dozen fresh sponges. He You can't get sponges at the grocer's, ducky, bui J'll stop at tha druggist's for them. What kinô do you wish ?—She lit cooking school graduate) i I want tho kind used for making sponge caket and tell him they must be fresh. ART Notk.—Dauber Well, how do you like your portrait, now that it is finished ?—Mr Candid Customer To tell the truth, it might blf a great deal better.—Dauber (in a rage) It is aS insult to say it might be a great deal better. Yof must take that back.—Mr Candid Cusiom* Ali right it might be a great deal worse. Are yoC satisfied now ? A CASK WHERE IT WOULDN'T WOBK.—" Evel in asked Dare Devil Dick.—"Once, answered Bloody Bill. "Hoss stealin'—"Git sent up es. Two y*r."—" Whar was pals? Couldn't they pr«fve an albi?"—"Yes, they could hev proved one for me, but the couldn't hev proved no alibi for the hoss. I wut ridin' him when I wuz ketched, b'gosh AN IMPRESSIVE SERMON.—Dean Stanley wat remarkable for a scanty use of action while preaching. "I never in my life," he once told his wife after a sermon in Westminster Abbey. so touched the congregation. They wertf entranced. Every eye was upon me from thpfi word to the Last." "No wonder," said Ladj Argusta, your gloves were inside your hat, and when you took it off they remained on the top oi your head all through the sermon." SHE HAD THEM WITH HER.—When a well' known actress was preparing recently to act ■Jane Shore at Liverpool, her aresser, an ignorant country girl, informed her that a woman had called to request two orders for the stalls, because she and her daughter had walked four miles to see the play. Does she know me ?" said the actress. "Not at all," was the reply. What a very odd request ?" exclaimed the actress. Has the good woman got her faculties about her ?" "t think she have, ma'am," answered the dresser, for I see she ha' got summit tied up io a red silk handkercher." Two cronies had a dispute in a tap-room with regard to Cain and Abel. and got to very high words over the matter. The landlord of the house hearing the noise inquired of the parties in dispute what the disturbance was about. He was told the discussion was over Cain and Abel. Bill says Cain killed Abel, and I say Abel killed Cain. What does thah think 1" "W eU," says the landlord, giving his head a scratch, "I remember old Bendigo Britties, Sayers, and Heenan, Tom King, and Stalybridge Chicken. But for Cain and Abel, I knew it wor a big fight, but I don't remember which on had the best on it. The best thing thah can do is to write tct t' sporting editor of the Telegraph. He'll tell theo." • cWOCLD RATHER QUIT HIS FARM.—An amusing story is told of the late Lord Vernon when giving a dinner to his tenantry. One old farmer baa, been induced to beheve that his lordship, who was very hospitable, would be much offended if he refused anything which his lordship offered him.) The guests sat down to the dinner, and the old farmer, whoso name was Johnson, partook freely, of soup, fish, entrees, and roast beef, and thenth8 plum-pudding was produced. Now, Mr John- son," said Lord Vernon, "let me give you a littla plum-pudding." Johnson looked at his lordship with anguish written in every line of his face, and said, "No, tha.nk you, my lord; I would rather quit my farm." STORY OF LORD TKNNTSON.—The following,one of the latest incidents narrated by the late Poell Laureate, maybe accepted with a grain of salt. The poet Tennyson had his little mishaps, just ai less gifted mortals have. One afternoon he called on some friends, learned they were not at home. and decided to leave a note. The housemaid took him to the drawing-room, and gave him pen, ink, and paper. When signing his name to his poliW little missive, Tennyson, by a jerk of the elboWf overturned the ink bottle, and great was his dia* may at seeing a large pool of ink spreading rapidly over his friend's new white Persian carpet ol matchless beauty. Horro'stricken, he rang th bell. Up ran the servant. Do please help me cried the poet. It happened that the milkmad had just left a can of frothing milk at the door, and the intelligent housemaid remembered in the nick of time that new milk, if thrown over wet ink, would remove all traces of the despoiling fluid. Accordingly she overturned a jugful upon the large black pool, and with house flannel and cloths set about rubbing and scrubbing at the stain. Down went Tennyson on his hands and knees, rubbing and scrubbing with his little help* meet. His agony of mind lest his old friend should knock at the door and suddenly appear ott the scene of the disaster he often described ill later days, declaring that it reached the infinite." But with such goodwill did thii strange couple work together that every trace ol ink was removed. Here is a five-shilling pieces, my good girl," cried the pout, "and God bios* you With that he seized his hat and made fot" the door. Soma weeks later an invitation to dinfl with his old friends reached Tennyson. 1111 went, and the carpet was in no way alluded tf on cither side. SOME SMART SATINQS.—When Lord Chester*- field was in administration, he proposed a persolj to his late Majesty as proper to fill a place of great trust, but which the King himself waS determined should be filled by another. The. Council, however, resolved not to indulge the King, for fear of a dangerous precedent; and it' Wa3 Lord Chesterfield's business to present the. grant of office for the King's signature. Not Wj incense his Majesty by asking him abruptlyt- he, with accents of great humility, begged t0; know with whose name his Majesty would be pleased to have the blanks filled up. With the. Devil's replied the King, in a paroxysm at rage. And shall the instrument," said the Earl, coolly, "run as usual—Oar trusty and well-beloved cousin and counsellor?" a repartee at which the King laughed heartily, and with great good hnn,our signed the grant. Wit flourishes in the court room. Sir Frederick Thesiger, afterward^ Lord Chelmsford, being engaged iu the conduct of a case, objected to the irregularity of a learned serjeant, who repeatedly put leading questions it examining witnesses. I have a right," main* tamed the seneant doggedly, to deal with rot. wi tno"se as I please." "To that I offer ntl objection, retorted Sir Frederick "yon may; deal as you like, but you shan't lead." Lord Ellenborough showing some impatience at < barrister's speech, the gentleman paused and said, Is it the pleasure of the court thaj I should proceed with my statement 1 Pleasure, sir, has been out of the ques- tion for a Jong time, but you may proceed. A witness having before Lord Elled" borough some very rambling and discreditable evidence, was asked, in cross-examination* what he was. Witness I employ myself as surgeon." Lord Ellenborough: But does any- body else employ you as a surgeon ? Lord' Erskme observed on coming into court one that Mr Balfour, a brother barrister, had bit ankle bound up with a silk handkerchief* "What's the matter, Balfour?" he inquired, The suilerer, whose mode of expressing himself was always very elaboratf, replied, "I was taking a romantic ramble through my brother's groundS, when, coming to a gate, 1 had to climb over it. by which I came in contact with the first bar, an" grazed the epidermis of my lee, which has caused a slight extravasation of blood." You waf thank your lucky stars," observed Erskine, tlw your brother's gate was not so lofty as your Jl ur you must have broken your neck." 4

RUPTUBK CUBED.—Wm. King, HerniaSpecialist,. ML 1UIb JHolborn. London. Book, 2 stamps.

ACCIDENT IN DEAN FOREST. j A Newport Man Injured. Decimus Edward Harris, a single young man, whose home is in Newport, met with a shocking accident at Blakeney, Dean Forest, on Friday evening. Harris was a mason's labourer, and with a gang of men had been working for several weeks repairing on the Forest of Dean Centml Railway. On the day named, about three o'clock in the afternoon, he was in the neighbourhood of Old Furnace, standing on the end ot the bridge or viaduct which crosses the main road from Blakeney to Parkend, and from the top of this he fell, some 20ft., to the ground, injuring himself severely. Dr. Irwin was fetched, and the man was carefully examined. No bones were broken but there was strong evidence of serious concus- sion of the brain. The man was put into a trap and taken to Awre Railway Station, whence he was removed by train to Newport, and received into the general infirmary.

BUDDUG. GAN Mil KICTIAISIi THOMAS. (Buddugol ar destyn y gad air vn Eisteddfod Dowlais, 1G91.—Rhan III.) Fe seina udgorn rhyfel drwy Iceni, A galw ar eu gilydd ciogwyni; Yn swn yr udgyrn cyfyd y trigolion, I daflu'r iau Rhufeinig i'r cysgodion. Ymgasgla y byddinoedd at en gilydd, Fel y wyllt drwy yr wybrenydd, Yn arwydd o ystorm y mae Gwroldeb Y11 gwneyd ei orsecid wen yn nhrem pob gwyneb. "I ryddid, neu i'r bedd yw iaith pob calon Sy'n barod i wynebu y ge'ynion, Dan faner Buddug tvwysogion luoedd, A'u bronau'n dfm, aweiniant eu byddinoedd Yn effro, effro inae ysbrydion rhyfel, Marchoganc hyd y wlad ar gefn pob awe!. Wrolion gwlad fy nhadau—gwlad y dewrion!" Medd Buddug hyf, "pa hyd goddefwn gyffion Y gelyn du i rwymo'n traed dwyiaw ( Pa le, P(I, Ie y buotn cy'd yn huuaw ? Mae tan fy natur bron a Ilosgi allan Yn lludw oer yn neifiol wres ei hunan, Dan iau cstroniaid 0! pa fodd, wrolion, Atebwch im', y daliodd nerth fy nghalon Heb hollti'n ddwy dan bwys ergydion trallod, Pan y gwart'oruddai'r gelyn fy ngenethod, Yn ngwydd eu manl yn dal dan bwys gwarad- wydd ? Pa fodd, 0, wyr! y buom mewn ùystawrwydd 'Ev.'v'n teimlo presenoldeb noeth ysbrydion Cvnfoiyn, Arthur, dewr Gaswalion, Yn sibrwd o fy neutu, ac yn symud Drwy'r rnvyr 'n 01 a blaen mewn nerth a bywyd Ardderchog lu yn mawredd y Brytaniaid Ein tadau ni syrthiasant yn wroniaid, Ar y cadfaesydd cochion tra'n aniddiffyn Ein rhyddid drud yn ngwyneb Hid y gelyn I" Cyfodai'r lluoedd eu byddarol lefau, Nos deffro'r adain yn creigiau, I al w' n ol. Dan faner anwyl Buddug!" Medd llais y llu, "ni dalwn 'n 01 y dirmv, Sydd, er's blynyddau, ar ein gwlad anwylaf Yn pwyso'n drwm! Ca yr anadliad olaf,, A'r defnyn olaf o'n calonau'i golli, Nen enill eto ryddid Gwlad Iceni!" Symuda'r fyddin mewn gwroldeb newydd, J Gwladgarwch byw a'u rhwyma wrth eu gilydd; Ei chysgod sydd yn duo'r gwasta.deddau, A swn marwolaeth yn ei hysgogiadau. j Yn nghwmni'r llu olwyna'r breiuiol gerbyd Sy'n cludo Buddug hardd,—yn gyru bywyd Drwy gonglau pella'r gadlu y mae hwnw. Ni3 gwelir yn y dorf un gwyneb gwehv Yn mhell o llu diangodd dychryn— Awyddfryd beiddgar am wet'd gwedd y gelyn Sy'n llauw eu calonau. Mae'r estrowaid Yn clywed swn dynesiad y Brytaniaid Er's cyfnod hir, ac arnynt y mae dychryn Er's cyfnod hir, ac arnynt y mae dychryn Fe! angel prudd marwolaeth wedi disgyn. Rhwng muriau Camulodum maent yn llechu, A phrudd-der y dyfodol yn eu llethu. Mae Buddug a'i genethod heirdd o'i oherbyd I fronau'r lluoedd fel yn taflu ysbryd Dialedd du. Pan ydoedd heirdd binaclan Hoff Demi Claudius draw yn codi'u penau, Cyfododd dewrder a beiddgarweh newydd Drwy natur llu Iceni gyda'u gilydd. L'awenydd gwrol wisgai wedd y dewrion, Er fod o'u blaenau lid eu holl elynion. Ymlaen, ymlaen medd Buddug, gan gyfodi Ei lief a.'i llaw, "na food i'n camrau oedi Nes troi y ddinas acw yn aniahveh, A'i dinystr hi fydd sylfaen ein dedwyddweh, Drwy'n natur ni y llifa gwacd ein tadau, A'u gleWder hwy sy'n llanw ein calonau." Ymdeithia'r llu ymlaen am oruwehafiaeth, Fel rhuthra llewod gwancus am ysgiyfaeth Yn nefoedd y mae'r miloedd saethau, Ao Augau'i hun yn marchog ar eu blaenau. Diangodd heddwch ffwrdd o'r fangre farwol, Traniwya dinystr buan yn orchfygol dre, o gwr i gwr, yn sarn y syrthia, Er mawredd digyffelyb, draw ac yma. I'r Demi sanctaidd dianc mae'r preswylwyr, I wyddfod yr offeiriaid ar eu hantur,— Meddyliant fod yr offeiriadol gyntedd Yn medru cadw ymaith bob dialedd, Ac ysbryd Caesar fawr yn bythol drigo Tufewn i'r gysegredig deml hono. [fod, Ond Angau sydd, fan hono, 'n myn'd i'w wydd. Gan wawdio'r sanctaidd Ie, droi yn feddrod. Tramwyo yn orchfygol mae'r Iceniaid, A marwol ocheneidiau y Rhufeiniaid Sydd heddyw'n swn perorus idd eu clustiau) Yr hen a'r ieuanc 'nawr i wyddfod angau A wthir fel eu gilydd, ni arbedir bywyd o flaen y gwawffvn, mewn brys, dihengyd Drwy'r glyn mae'r llu mae afon dawel Colne A'i thonau'n gwthio'u gilydo' drwy y fangre Yn lleddf eu can, a'i gwyneb wedi gwelwi,— Fel hono sydd drwy'r dyffryn du yn tori Y byd tragwyddol flrwdd,—uwehben y meirwon Banerau Buddug chwifiant drwy'r awelon. Mae Buddug, fraich yn mraich a. buddugoliaeth, Drwy'i lluoedd 'nawr yn myn'd mewn goruweh afiaeth. Dan wyH y nos y oydorphwysa'r saethau, Yn llonydd lu yn ymyl y bwiian Gorphwysa'r fyddin ar y marwol garnedd, Ac ati yno 'heda ei thangnefedd Yn-goch ei aden, fel gan waed y meirw golaneddau hyd y llecyn gwelw. 0, ryfedd nos nis medr Buddug huno; Mae y gorphenol a'r dyfodol yno Ar garnedd Camulodum yn cydgwrddyd, Ac yno'n aflonyddu ar ei hysbryd. Mae gwae ac hedd yn brwydro yn ei meddwl, Fel storom erch yn mynwes ddu y cwmwl; gwel'd caethiwed anwyl wlad Iceni Yn ngwaed y frwydr hono wedi böddl. Pan ydoedd tonau'r wawrddydd glaer yn llifo Dros draethell miliwn sr y nef i'w cuddio, Ymgasglu at eu gilydd o'r trychineb Wna dewrion Buddug—feibion llawn gwroldeb! Yn ngwres y byw wladgarwch losgai'i chalon, Llefarai yr Arwres wrth y dewrion — "Ardderchog lu terfynodd dydd ein dwysder, Machludodd ngorwel prudd yr arnser Sydd wedi myn'd! 0 bentwr trist marwolaeth Y ddinas hon, nid oes ond buddugoliaeth I'n haros drwy'r dyfodol; y duwiau Yn gaiw'n ol ysbrydion ein dewr dadau I'n nerthu dros ein rhyddid a'n iawnderau. Mae'r dewrder hwnw yrodd greulon Yn 01 i'w noddfa. y tu draw i'r eigiou, 0 hyd yn fy w mae'r gongewest hon, mae'r difrod Sydci yrna rhoddi in' awdurdod Ar y dyfodol mawr: i fwydo'n daear, Gollyngwn waed yr holl estroniaid beiddgar." "0;; yw Paulinus acw'n lladd, yn treohu YI1 greulon draw rhwng gwynion fryniau Cymru, Drwy yr holl wlad dynoethwn ninan'n harfau, Agorwn i'r estroniaid ddorau angau I broydd oil porth angau du wnawn ddangos I bawb sy'n (lfhysgod Rhtlfain heddyw'n aros!" Holl lu'r Brytaniaid lUeWt. gwroldeb deithiant, A d:nystr trwy'r terfynau a'u canlynant; Ynigryma'r trefydd oil i hallt y baddrod, 0 flaen eu nerth a'u byth-gofiadwy ddifrod Itel coedwig mewn ystorm, nid oes un gallu Drwy'r tiriogaethau fedr eu gorebfygu, Mae buddugoliaeth ar ol buddugoliaeth Yn dyfod iddynt fel o lyn marwolaeth; Holl lafur gweadlyd y Ctesariaid creulon ol i'w cynawn etifeddion Yn 01 yn awr hyd Iwybrau coch y brwydrau Dychwela'u trefydd oil a'u tiriogaethau. Mae enw Buddug wrol heddyw'n hongian Ar dafod pawb fel enw augau'i hunan Gwaradwydd plant Brasydog heddyw fjyrthia,' Ao yn ei le anrhydedd corona. Banerau Nero yn y llwch a fethrir, A'r rheiny'n goch yn ngwaed eu hunain liwir: I'r byd tragwyddol, noeth, diha.nga misoedd 0 wydd y misoedd hyn yn gooh eu gwisgoedd. I lan yr Afon Lea daeth boreu newydd, A bywyd a phrydferthweh efo'u gilydd Yn gweun ar ei fynwea; yno'n ebrwydd Llais yr Arwres dorai y dystawrwydd :— "Ch\vi, ddewrion yBrythoniaid sydd ynddychryn 5 Ac angau heddyw i holllu y gelyn, Na flinwn, na ddiffygiwn ar ein llwybrau; Mae Llundain eto'i ddyfod yn garueddau O'n blaen mewn bythol warth bydd hono o wydd y cenedlaethau wedi suddo j Y duwiau roddodd yn ein llaw'n gelynion, Am feiddio sangu llwybtvui'n Hvnys dirion. Mae delw dinystr Llundain wedi nofio Yn nwfr yr afon fawr er's blwyddi heibio,— II Darllenodd llygad ci'Affv cynflynyddau Am lwyddiaut Iceni mewn drychiolasthau." (rw arkau.)