Weekly Mail

-y Old Pamela's Secret. —— ft It will be such fun," said merry-hearted Amelia Ledyard, "I don't think it will be fan at all re- marked Fanny Heath, gravely. Only see what a dismal place it is under that ledge of rocks, with only the owls and crickets for neighbours. Let us run, Amelia, and we shall sUieJv reach home before the storm breaks." "flush Amelia held up her finger as a low growl of thunder rolled along the edge of the horizon and the big drops began to patter among the leaves of the beech oopse, on whose outskirts they stood. "Another five minutes and the tempest will be upon us in all its force. We must not lose an instant in Seeking shelter." And seizing her companion's hand reso- lutely, Amelia Ledyard almost dragged her along over the rough inequalities of the mountain path to the little cabin which bestled beneath an overhanging ledge of rocks. Once, twice, she rapped, and, receiv- ing no response, boldly pushed the door open and entered, while Fanny followed with beat- jng heart and cheeks blanched by vague, untle- 4ned terror. A fire of sticks blazed on the stone hearth, and an old woman sat before it, smoking a (hort black pipe. She turned her head as they entered. "Why don't you say come in P" inqtiired Amelia, with good-humoured imperiousness. "Didn't you hear us craving for admis- sion." "I heard you knock," hoarsely answered the old crone. "And why didn't you reply?" "I want no company," was the brief answer. But Amelia, instead of being repelled by this ungracious reception, drew a wooden Btool to he fire, beckoning Fanny to follow her example. *You're a cross old thing, Pamela," she laid, laughing. Would you have kept us out in the rain ?" "Better to be drenched by the rain than to leek a shelter like this," said Pamela, her face still turned away from her uninvited gUMtfi. "Why, Pamela, you speak as if this plaoe Were uncanny." "So it is, said Pamela, sternly, "Are there ghosts here, or evil spirits?" persisted Amelia, the words sounding strangely in her gay young voice. "Amelia! Amelia! pleaded Fanny, pulling her slaves, "don't talk so; you make my blood-run cold!" "Bat it's all nonsense," laughed Amelia. w Oh, do listen to the raiu how it poors upon the roof, and just lee those vivid flashes! You can't turn us out, Pamela, now that we are here!" Pamela Cameron's rigid old face softened somewhat as she looked into the fresh beautv of tbe sweet young countenance upturned to bwa. I would never have invited you to come in, Miss Amelia," she said; "but since you are her, I must do my best to make you comfortable." "And you will give us some milk out of those darling old blue-rimmed bowls and lome rve bread?" "Yes." Amelia clapped her hands like a delighted Dhild. And may we sleep up in the garret under the eaves ?" You bad better go home, Miss Amelia this hut is no plaoe for the likes of you dainty young ladies to lay your heads!" Inhospitable old thing!" pouted Amelia. "As if we could go home in auoh a tempest, is this! Why, it will rain all night 1" "They will send the carriage for you." How can they, when they haven't an idea orhorm we are ? We started to walk to Buck- leycrwt, and then I remembered what beautiful scenery there was about here, and wandered off, scarcely knowing where, until we heard the thunder peal, and found our- lelves close to your cottage. It's a regular adventure, Pamela, and you may as well give in to it first as last. Fsnmy Heath sat silent the while, and when Pamela had limped into the bedroom to get fresh fuel wherewith to replenish the falling fire, she whispered to her companion, "I don't like the looks of this place, Amelia! I wish we had never come to it!" What nonsense said Amelia, gayly. "I think it is all splendid Old Pamela is a perfect character, and a night upon the mountain side will be an adventure to talk of for weeks." The supper of rye bread and milk was delicious to the hungry girls, and when, after- wards, Pamela showed them the way up a steep flight of steps more like a ladder than stairs, which led into the garret, Amelia's delight was greater than ever. "What a love of an old place," she ex- claimed, looking round her at the bare beams and rafters, which, at their apex, almost touched her head. "flow nice the rain sounds, and how cosy that little bed under the beams looks, only vre shall have to go on our hands and knees to get into it. Oh, fanny, what do you suppose we shall dream about ?" "Hash cried Fanny, seizing her com- panion's arm. "What noise was that p" "Only an owl hooting in the woods. What a bundle of Yidiculous nerves you are, Fanny!" A h, but the strange grating sounds as if skeleton fingers were feeling over the roof." Amelia burst into a laugh. "Nothing on earth but the trees that hang ever the ledge of rocks, and brush to and fro across the ridge-pole at every gust of wind. What will you fancy next?" Fanny drew a deep sigh of relief. But [ shall not undress," she said quietly. W by not ?" Because I think it is safer to lie down ftist as I am." Fanny, you are a goose!" exclaimed Amelia. However, I don't care; we'll just draw the patchwork coverlid over us and sleep as soundly as if we were in our own ohamber at Drumlargriff, for I think I never was so sleepy in all my life." I shall not sleep a wink all night," said Fanny. Oh, Amelia, I wish we had kept on through the vailey. I wish we had not come here." "Fanny, what ails you?" cried Amelia, almost impatiently. I wouldn't be such an old woman as you for a thousand pounds. Do lie quietly down and let me go to sleep." Fanny Heath said no more, but at mid- night she noiselessly waked her companion. Amelia, Amelia Hush Do not speak;" the whimpered; a face was looking into the window just now." "Into this window, Fanny No one but a bird could reach it. You are dreaming." "I am not dreaming—neither have I been asleep. But I tell you it face did look in just now—a face ghastly in the moonlight, with shaggy hair and beard." Amelia raised herself on her elbow, and perceived that the violence of the storm was over, and tbat the moon was shining so as to cast'a square of white radiance on the bare floor. Suddenly the flood of light was darkened. Fanny forced her companion back into a reclining posture, and whispered "Iiush pretend to be asleep-it is oar only safety." I And in the same indaot a euri»u?> dwarfed figure climbed into the room, its face looking I ",in¡r.1rl\T fellow and corpse-liUo in t-Uc- in'opc 1 light, framed in as it was with a mat of coarse, red hair. A ragged coat hung loosely on ita mis-shapen shoulders, and its feet were cased in something that looked like leggings of sheap-Skin. And as Amelia lay there she could feel the blood pulsing in wild leaps to her heart. She could not speak—she had no voice I to scream. It seemed to her for the moment that she must surely go mad with terror. The creature, whether apparition or reality, crept stealthily across the creaking floor to where the girls' neoklaces and ear-rings lay glittering on a plain deal table, and uttered a strange, chuckling sound as he gathered them together and dropped them into some receptacle hidden away in his olothing. Then, horror of horrors, he approached the bed, leaning over and listening so intently that they could feel his hot breath on their temples for an instant. Asleep he murmured, H asleep r' And when Amelia and Fanny next dared to open their eyes he was gone. They lay there trembling and fearing a repetition of the strange visit until daybreak, and then hurried down to Pamela Cameron to tell the story of their night's adventure. The old lady listened with an incredulous face. "Nonsense!" she croaked, "all stuff and nonsense! You were dreaming But our rings and necklaces, and Fanny's 9. oral brooch ?" There they are," said Pamela, with a motion of her head towards the pillow of her own rough couch in the corner. J came up last night to see that you were sleeping well, and saw them all spread out, and knew it wasn't safe; so I brought them down with me, and put 'em under my pillow for safe- keeping." Amelia lifted op the home-spun linen, and there, sure enough, lay the sparkling treasures She looked at Fanny, almost inclined to disbelieve the evidence of her own senses. "But, Pamela," said Fanny, quietly, "1 saw it with my own e3*es—the horrid dwarfed creature gather up our rings and charms and drop them into his pocket. I saw his face, very white, with his glittering eyes and red, tangled hair. I felt his very breath upon mv face!" "Dreams! dreams! dreams!" muttered Pamela, impatiently. Are you ready for your breakfast, young ladies ?" But neither of the girls could eat after the hideous night they had passed. They re- wardud the old woman liberaliy for her grudgingly given hospitality, and set out to walk down the mountain side, with what speed they could. "But I know it was no dream"' said Amelia, in a whisper, as if even the copses and birds and boulders of rock had ears to hear. About a week afterwards tha lady's maid, who daily came up to brush Miss Ledyard'a lovely golden hair, was brimful of tidings. Dear heart alive, miss said she, did you know that Widow Cameron, who -iives up on the mountain, where you stopped all night in that tremendous storm, you know 1} "Yes," said Amelia, impatiently. "Go on." Well, she's got a orazy son that's been wandering about in the woods, living on nuts and berries, like a wild man, these three months, for he's esoaped from the asylum, where they didn't use him well noways, and his poor mother hadn't the heart to put him back there again; and last night he slipped on those rooks by Creefell's Creek,and fell in, and was drowned. And Widow Cameron, she takes on just as bad as if he wasn't a poor de- formed creature without common sense!— and to think she's kept the seoret all the years she lived there, having a mad son Amelia spoke no word but her eyes met tho&e of her oousin Fanny. That explains the mystery," said the latter, quietly. Poor Pamela No wonder she was so unwilling to shelter us from the rain She must herself have taken the jewels from him afterwards and told a false- hood to keep the awful secret."—Evening World,

UNDER THE MISTLETOE. FLO What is the matter with your face, May ? « MAY: Oh, George was too busy to get shaved yesterday, you know.

MORE SIAMESE TWINS. "Infant phenomena" in the styla of the Siamese Twins have (according to a telegram re- ceived from Canne-) ju t made their appearance ro a village in the neighbourhood of that town. The babies, who belong to the fair sex, are con- nected by n liniment, which binds them back to zl,p bick, but barring this eccentricity of Nature they are described as being remarkably well formed and apparently very healthy. Their mother is a Frenchwoman, of tvwenty-five summers, whose family has been settled in the Tillage for years. It is needless to say that the infants are being examined with considerable curiosity by the doctors in that ipart (if ttio country, who are of opinion that the death of one of the twins would at once be attended with fatal results t) the other, so that their lives may be regarded as hinging literally on a thread. This was the case with the Siamese Twins, and with one or two other pheno- mena of the same character.

THE VALUE OF ENO'S "FRUIT SAI.T cannot be told. Its success in Europe, Asia, Africa, America, and Australia proves it. Tt is pleasant, cooling, health- giving, refreshing, and invigorating. You cannot over- state its great value in keeping the blood pure and free from disease. Its preparation has been truly styled one of the trtunrtpht or fnodem chemistry. Iu hot or foreign climates it is invaluable. It allays nervous ex-itement, and restores the nervous system to its proper condition (bv natural means), In the nursery it is beyond praise. Caution.—Exaniino each bottle and see (hc capsule is m&riced Eno's Fruit. Bait," without which you have b"en imposed on bv a. worthless imitation.—Of all Chemists. Prepared only at Kno's ".Jfiuit Sail." Works, bondon, S.E., by J. C. Eno's Palenf. LeM5 MAZ.VWATTKKTBAS are a houaehnH "f,1 b, WNJES ih-0' re s.U) the • telioiou# teas of 30 y >frs ago. L566!

Christmas Day in the Bush, • In 1840, on a burning Christmas ISve-—real summer weather—two young gentlemen, in very light costume, were sitting opposite each other in a dark bush hut, weary, dusty, and rather disconsolate. The stock-whips and saddles on the ground, with half-boots kicked off beside them, showed that they had just returned from a long ride. The hut was evidently recently built, and it was plain that this was a new station. I- Weil, Jack," said the shorter of the two, "this is a pleasant look-out for Christmas Day—no dray up, our last flour gone to-day, and our last sugar melted away last week; that disgusting emu has eaten up all the pumpkins and melons, so we may dine to-morrow on tea au naf.urel and the remains of the last cask of salt beef; unless you prefer to kill a bit of fresh, and eat it without damper, salt, or pickles. No doubt the dray's hard and fast in some gaily, or safe on one wheel by the Sugar-loaf Itange, and Bald-faced Dick and his mate, if they are the sensible follows I take them to be, are now picking the plums and weighing out the flour for their Christmas pudding." Or, perhaps," put in Jack, 11 amiably dividing your stores with a party of bush- rangers. A pleasant prospect, truly, for a man who has ridden four hundred miles to spend his Christmas Day with an old churn- no dinner, no books, no tobacco. It almost makes one wish to be sitting wigged, gowned, and briefless, in the back benches of the Queen's Bench, drawing caricatures; or read- ing three services a day to a Low Church congregation upon fifty pounds a year." A bright thought strikes me," said the host, Martyn by name, commonly called Betty Martyn, because he commenced his career in the bush by wearing gloves and blacking his boots. Let us ride over to that Devonshire man's station—1 mean the man with the pretty daughters. There's a short cut across the range Bald-faced Dick made out the other day, that won't make it above thirty-five miles, instead of a hundred and twenty, by swimming one creek and climbing over one awkward bit of hill work. We'll start at sunrise, and do it comfortably by ten o'clock, if we can only make out the bearing right. Our but too true excuse—the missing dray—is a safe card for a dinner, if not a dance and a pleasant day or two." Agreed," said jolly Jack Bullar. By daybreak they were off, combed and trimmed, in the blue and red jerseys, belts, trousers, and broad-brimmed hats that form the picturesque costume of the bush—Bullar on a big-boned thoroughbred, Martyn on his half-bred prancing Arab, over hill and dale and plain, through a broad oreek, with a quarter of a mile's swimming, guided by bush- man's signs and instincts. About ten o'clock they had struck the river, and running it down soon came to where it swelled to a broad lake or water-hole before the Devon- shire man's station. They did not know his name, but rode up confidently, according to the custom of the country. "Hurrah," cried Jack," "no starvation here there's a six-pair oxen dray unloading, by a whole generation of younkers; sugar- plums in plenty; and look,at the black fellow grinding away at the handmfll—how fat the rascal looks. Well, we've reached the land of plenty this time." 11 W by, you see, Bullar," said Martyn, in this country all the rules go by contraries. It is Christmas Day, and, instead of frost and anow, it is a burning sun and green leaves we are perspiring under. Instead of a skate, I am thinking of a swim and m the same way, while in old England, very often it's the more mouth the less to eat; here, as every mouth has a pair of hands under it, the more mouths the more food. So you see, Jack, while you and I, with a balance at the bank to start with, often have to put up with Lenten fare, this hard worker has contrived to make comforts we can't buy." How be'ee, gentlemen ?" said a voice, in a strong Devonshire accent, as the owner came up alongside them, mounted on an ugly piebald stock-horse, which had stolen over the soft ground unheard during their conver- sation. He was a little slim man, with thin grey. hair banging long under his broad- brimmed bat, round an intelligent face, burned a deep brown he sat his horse awkwardly, with long stir- rups, his toes pointing down, and his bridle-hend poked out, like most men who have only taken to horsemanship late in life. But he wore an air of content, self- satisfaction, and well-to-do-ism that bespoke at a glance a man with whom the world went well. Ilave'ea come var ?" asked the host. "From the next station," said Bullar. Zo, we be neabours, be us!" he continued. Well, I'm cruel glad to zee Ve. Ilere, llat, take the gentlemen's horsea and put 'em in the paddock!" Bartholomew, a wild Indian-looking urchin, about two feet h^ in a kilt composed of a jersey strapped round his middle, forthwith clambered upon the thorough-bred; how, it is impossible to say, but something after the I manner of a monkey ascending a camel, and not a little to the astonishment of the young travellers, for children were not the kind of youtloktock they had been acoustomed to With a cluck andacrack of his miniature stock- whip the boy sent the big horse off at a swing gallop, and slap over the fence of the paddock. Returning as calmly as if he had been doing the mosh popular and natural thing in the world, young Flibbertigibbet, observed: Your horse don't jump amiss, stranger, though I don't think much of the big 'uns in a general way." "Get away with 'ee, you young scamp," cried the grandfather; and then they all went into the cottage. Great were the preparations. Green boughs and flowers adorned the walls and roof in brilliant yet imperfect imitation of holly- bougha and mistletoe. The hostess, a handsome, middle-aged woman, bad given up active service to a crowd of daugh.era, grand daughters, neighbours, and friends, who surrounded her. She sat at ease in an Indian cane ohair, until she saw, and came forward to greet, the strangers, Who could have thought," observed Martyn, "that it would have been possible to be so comfortable in the bush A great about of "Here comes Aunt Mary!" brought everyone out into the verandah, and slowly trolling up to the door came a high-wheeled dog-cart landau, in which sat, beside the driver, a fair-haired young Australian of the true Colonial type. Aunt Wary was a pretty woman, in a fashionable light mourning bonnet. Her double parasol looked not a little incongruous and droli amid such wild scenery. Two varmint little boys, in sky-blue plaids and kilt a, were perched behind the dray. « Here we are," cried Aunt Mary's husband did the last hundred miles in two days—not bad work for bush roads. Now, young ones, who'll hHp to see what we've brought from town P" There was a tremendous rush at the boot of the dogcart. A cry of" Uncle Dick and Aunfc Sally H made a slight diversion; but, as these new comers came on horse- back, am' brought, nothing but a few head of iraine. the dog-cart proved the iaore attrac- I tive. By this time guests cropped ill thick and threefold,- It is a rather degrading con- fession for poor-human nature, but Christmas Day, anywhere, would be very blank without the eating and drinking. This is espeoially so in thebttsh, where there are no old associations to fall back upon. So our friends, leaving the relations to exohange news, walked about sniffing the various delightful odours that arose from the detached kitchen, where an old woman and a sailor cook quarrelled and worked away with extraordinary unanimity. Instead of romantic, sentimental confi- dences the conversation of our two young squatters ran on more substantial topics— By Jove, Bullar, did you see the suoking- pig P" H So, but I spied the pudding f It fills the largest eopper. Did you hear the hutkeeper asking for a shirt-sleeve to boil the men's dumplings in ?" "No; but I saw him walking down to the servants' huts with a great side of beef." "Well, we have dropped into clover; but what a pretty girl! Is she one of the daughters ?" I think so," said Bullar. What a figure, old man There's a woman to make a man bappy You're right, Jack. I must see more of the lady. As they strolled about Martyn made a few inquiries, and learned that the lady who had so attracted him was Miss Jane l'aige, a niece of his host-a piece of information the young gentleman carefully stored for future us<\ At length, a§ the sun was descending, dinner-hour arrived—it having been deferred some time, much to the ire of the cooks, in order to give every expected guest a chance. When Martyn exclaimed carelessly, "What a pretty girl he registered a vow to sit beside her at dinner—and he kept it. During the repast his attentions to Miss Jane Paige were unremitting. All the news which they were possessed of had to be retailed entirely by Bullar. When the repast was over the oid patriarch rose to make his accustomed oration. "And now, my children and vriends," he said, "let us drink a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all absent vriends, and especially all vriends over the watter. I drink it with all my heart, though yet eight year ago I little thought—not I—to be able to have such a party round me a' Christmas Day. Kight year ago I left Devon a beggar and an outcast. But now, thanks be to the Lof<% I know all was for the best." ^Jwee days afterwards, as Bullar and yii rode back together, the former ex- claimed, Strange country this, where beg- gar* get on horseback and don't ride to the devil." Of course not," cried Martyn II don't you see why it is? A man can't take so long a journey double, and a wife is his salvation in this country." When do you mean to be saved, then P" Martyn blushed, There was an awkward pause. Bullar muttered something about love at first sight, rapid courtships, &o.; when Martyn broke out with: Well, then, if, when you return home to England, you'll promise not to break it too abruptly to my aunt, Lady Pimmeiuey, I'll confide to you that "What?" gasped Bullar, with affected surprise at what he knew be was going to hear. "Imean to marry Jane Paige I" A nd she .t Intends—if eyes do not flash falsehoods, and blushes are not perjuries dyed orimsou- to marry me." Sure enough when Bullar returned to England he had to report that Miss Jane l'aige had become Mrs. Martyn. She and her spouse spent every succeeding Christmas Day under his own roof in the bush,—Illus- trated Bits.

AN ARTLESS BURGLAR, J He Told a True Ta!e to the Magistrates. Many a practised professional burglar no doubt would envy the luck which fell to the lot of a bad character named ('ar: e. lie was wandering i-ennilps« and purposeless, the ^tlier night, through the Rue Sotll,t"1-Annl",IParis, when lie suddenly conceived the idea of entering a suile of rooms iu a block of buildings guarded by a careless concierye. He succeeded in passing the porier's lodge, and going up the back stairs near.st to him, he .got into a flit by the kitchen door, which was not closed. Fortune furfur favoured the happy-go-lucky burglar by dir ct'ng liiin to a cash-box iu one ot the rooms, and with- out being seen or heard by any tody tie exti acted from this recepiaclo a autn of £ 170 12^. in gold and notes. Next morning Carre was found lying helpl'»sly a"d hopelessly drunk on the asphalte of the Boulevard Malashei Vs. The policemen who searched him found R96 in his pfick,t1. When asked by the m«Ristr*t« before whom he was brought to account hr the rest of the ii)oney, and to describe his nocturnal expedition in fxtmso, Carre taid calmly that not knowing wVr« to go for a night's lodging, lie ti.rund ititi the first block of houses whicf he found easy of !,cc" £ 8. He saw ths door of a flat open: went In and remaiued anfit two o'clock in the morning, when lie struck a tmtch and saw a cash-box near him. He also obseivcd a key on a table. It exactly fitted the box, so he took the money out and went away. He then entered an early wine shop or restaurant, and (lie subaequent proceedings found no place in his rnemjrf. He onlr recollected his awakening in the lot-k-up. Carre was sent to gaol for fifteen months,

A Tragic and Strange Life. Ðdeful indeed has been the fate of Mademoiselle de !a Bre e-he, a lady who once tiguredigmong the fastest and most fashionable of the deiiii tnondaines of the Third Empire She was wealthy, but. spent her money by degrets in acts; of misguided philanthropy and extra vagi nee. Iu her old age she wis obliged to retire to a iifle roadside cottage—ahnofct a cabin—at Genoviliiers; but even lure she was unable to eke out a miserable existence. Quite recently she applied for admission to a "Refuge" at. Nanterre, and was received there. The other night she left tilt, place and wandered out into the field-, despite the bitterly cold weather. Sho was found lyin: against a haystack on Thursday morning with her feet frozen, and was conveyed to n hospital, where she is now in a precarious-condition. This victim of penury and the frost is 68 years old. Her rnisoiy and destitution in her declining years were even mm-a mournful to contomp a'e than the fare which overtook Cora Pearl, anotLer of the Phrynes of th" "fast" period which preceded the Franco- German War.

COLEMAN'S LIEBIG'S EXTRACT OF MEAT AND MALE WINK.—A 2a. gel. bottle of this celebrated wine SCII!, free by parcels post for 33 stamps. Over 2,000 testimonials received frjm mecucal men. Coleman and. Co. (Limite i) Sold everywhere. LU521 HOIXOWAX'S OINTMKNT.~GO where you may in every country and iu all climes, persons will lj3 found who lir.vs a ready word of praise for tiiis Oiutmeut For ehans chafes, BClils. bruises, and srrniois, it h an invaluable remedy; for bad lejrs. bad breasts, and piles, it may be confidently rebelI upon for effecting a sound and permanem. cure. In casrs of puffed ankle*, erysipelas, and rheumatism Hollowly s Ointment gives the greatest, comfo -t by re the inflammation, cooling the blood, soothing the t)"rfp-° adjusting tha (ircnlatiou, and expeiSin- t!ie iPimiritHs "Tliis Ointment Blioniu have a p's.ce in every nm-s-irv. Ti ~;ii n,,P all those manifold Rltin a (Tee ioi.i wb;cl>, 'mi-'tivMn* v, ci'i'V-o. fl, rn/ r'r«-"it-h ?,i*H th- cW-Vt> giwh." L5005

About Millionaires. HOW THE RICHEST MEN MADE THEIR BIG PILES. An Amsrican paper gives much information ? it3 readers on the subject of the great fortunes made in that country, their amount, and how they are spent. Mr. John D. Rockefeller and Mr. William Waldorf Astor share the pleasant distinc- tion of being the richert men in the world. The fortune of each of them amounts to £ 25,000,000. Mr. Rockefeller made his money by inventing an easy method of transporting pet roleum to the various markets. He laid a. small pipe from one of the wells to a lailroacJ, through which tiio oil rin into a. tank car. From this successful experiment grew one of the most powarful monopolies on earth, the Standard Oil Trust. Mr. Rockefeller is a deflcon of the Baptist Church, and is one of the largest contributors to that denomination. Be is little seen in soci-tv, Ahnott his only amusement is driving. JNow and then ha spends an evening at the opera but the gmat bulk of his time is devoted to his enc-rmous business. His life would almost be regarded as slavery by the majority of men; but his heart is in his business. Liu enjoys it. He lives in New Yoik. His brother, Mr. William Ilockefd l-T (fortune £ 6,000,000), possesses the finest and costliest country place in America. It is at Tarrytown-fln- the-lludaon. 'i he system of electric lighting is the most complite in the world. Wires are c,tiried nil over the eXiensive grounds, and the turn of a switch lights the whole place up. Trotting norses trm his pet amusement. In contract to the Hocker ller mi)!i .n.=, which were a':cuIlJulut.,d in one generil.tioll, the fortune of the Astor family is inherited from a diligent ancestry, that goes as far back as the days when New York was called New Amsterdam. Mr. Astor's wealiii is almost wholly in real e.-t-ite. Themost: fashionable pirc of New York, including 13 road way, belongs to him. It is a tradition in the fimily to go on buying land and never to sell. Mr. Astor is literary. He has writtrn seveial novel*, and is said to be at work upon another. He is now residing in London. Mr. J iy Gould's fortune is quoted at £ 20,000,000 (written in dollars it looks incredible, and bug- gests an a-tionoinical calculation), and is almost wholly composed of stocks and bonds in various railroads and the Western Union Telegraph Com- pany. At the prestnt. moment, owing to the recent depreciation of such-tocha and shai-fs in the market, his fortune, if reaped, would be only £ 15,000,000. but ho is conli'.fenily expecih>g a large advance in the value of rrJway shares, and with that view has been purchasing freely while they were cheap. lie is probably the busiest man in America, posseesinu; marvellous vitality and activity. Like all such men, he t a/i aunerfd in health from over- work, and live years a»o was obliged to retire from active business life. Now he is WFLL again, and, if possible, Il:ore energetic than ever. Mr. Gould has no time for amusements. His evenings are occupied with the study of reports, as are his days with the fluctuations of the market. Hii eldest son and prospective heir to the bulk of his for uneis about 30. His favourite sport is shoot- ing at clay pigeons, at which he is remarkably expert, The head of the V.inderbilt family was the richest man in the wer'd. His fortune was com- puted a.t £ 32,000,000. He I ad been left sixteen millions by his father, Commodore Vanderbilt, and doubled it, leaving it to his eight children, the two eldest sons taking the great bulk of it. It consists of G iverninent bonds and the securities of the Vanderbi.t railways, one of the most, prosperous systems in the country. Mr. Cornelius Vande. bilt (foituae £ 16,000,000) is m, ro interested in church work than in finance. The whole family is of rolijji us bent, and their charities are on a very large s< a'e. His brother, Mr. Wiiiiam K Vanderbilt (fortune £ 15 000,000; is one of tho; best whist pluyers in New York. He pays little attention to business ilt' Ie being needed. Next to these the biggest f-rtune is owned by Mr. Colis P. Huntington. He made it all him- self— £ 8,000,000. He is ona of the greatest rail- road owners in America. He lives plainly, walks the three miles from his house to his office more often t.tran not, and frequently baa been litard to say that hp does not know the SCIVMIUM* of being tired. Mr. Philip D. Armour made his > money ia hogs. He now pomesees £5,000,000,- fTe alvays wears a red flower in his buttonhole, but h-is no other extravagance. The early thrift abides with him slitl, as with all !If'If- millionaires, or inulti-it-.illionaines,astliey Areaftm call id, and not only thrift, but t*mp«t«nca dis- tinguishes them. Not one among over a hundred of the richest men in America is a dl illking man." Mr. J jhn D. Rockefeller is a total abstainer. Mr. Astor and Mr. Goultl sehioin touch wine. The Vanderbilt* equally abstemious. Mr. Huntington's strongest teverago is te*. None of the leading millionaires smoke. To soma this abtt"nt.ion may appear to be a loss of opportunity. On the whole the inulti-miilionairrg of America bear a splendid charaoler. Sonw are munificent in charities. None are men of pleasure. None are purse-proud. To I urn to ladies. There are several on tho list. Mrs. Heity G, em is reputed to be the richest woman in the world. Her father, a whaler in a large way of buMmw, left iwr nearly £2,000,000, and an aunt niterwaids left Iter almost as much more. B»;her business abdity she ha i increased this to £ 61)00,000. Site spends very little on dress, never follows tho fashion, and lives simply. There are other ladies on the lis', chiefly widows, some spinsters. To name them might be the menns of inducing fortune-hunters to I*v »i. go to their heart, hand, and bank batanco. So they slmll rtmain unspecified.

The Star of Bethlehem. Public curiosity has been aroused in Germany about the Star of Bothlehem, which somebody with no special authority has predicted would suddenly blaze Int.) sight in tile constellation Cassiopeia. This rema kable stas was seen by Tycho Bralie, most conacientiouo observer, in 1572; and he was so amazed with its sudden brilliancy 'b.t he could scarcely balieve his eyes, and called his friends to aisure himself that it was not an illusion. He declared that it was visible for. aetata time in broad daylight, but by M»rdi, lS?3,«is had disappeared. Soma astro- nomers lvliavwthat the s*me star was setn in 1264, and also in" 945 and suppming its period to have been a mean of abous 315 ye»r?, it would be (raced-back to ab ut the time of the birth of Christ. But all this is hypo- thesis, and English observers, supposing tham to Vave a clear outlook, will not,cxpeck to find this rar* visitant in Cassiopeia. Curiously enough, Mr. isaac Roberts, who has photographed the cou- stellition recently, while finding hundreds of stars that Tycho never dreamt of, discovers also that six stars which used to be there have within the last quarter of a century wholly disappeared. Apparently the-.«o-ealled Star of the Magi is not visible even as a photographic point.

A Steer" Bucked the Post. A Texas got into a panic while being driven through aiEaosas town, took after a grocer, but didn't sttMhsustn,dodge into a doorway. Ho kept on until, he aww a tetegraph pole, and he ma.de a. charge and struck it with such force that his neck, ono leg, aad a shoulder w.;re broken. It is a funny thing that ttio owner of the steer is suing the grocer for the low-of tho animal.

GREAT SCRFMSE has been expressed by prufes. sional gentlemen in the medicatwortd throughout, the kingdom at, tblt" wowlerful eons effected by Wee B. Cooper's Rheuo in=eaaes of longstanding rheumatism, where all hope* of a care had long before been aban- doned. The great success attending the sales of Rheuo may be accounted for by the fact that it is not offered to cure every complaint under the sun, but rheumatism only, in old and young. Taken internally, at regular inter- vals, it quickly subdues the pains, and gradually, but surely, restores the su"erer to a healthy state. Evans and Co., 7, High-street, Cardiff; T. Cordev. Iligh-streec, Newport; anatheGaSh Supply Company, f .utyprMd, are the TJrocal Ageats, and one 2s 9d bot tle will caro most cases. Also inJxAties Is l|d and 4s 61. Sent, past p*id from 5 99, Commereial-io.al. London, 13. Le537 A BOON TO MEN who suffsr fr^M Nervous .,I Debility, Lost Vigour, Kslsaasted Vitality, Kidnev Diseases. &c. Mnrston treatlocMbahevpt'on. t ne i.'iiv po-jt ive cure without. SitUMarh M>4:ci:ie», will jlt i- envelope post Mauviov JJKM* or '< '<» It 'gh lT"ltwrt], l'iondoii, l.'Wtf..