The Cardiff Times

It. JUS" AS I AM." ET MISS BRADBON, CHAPTER XLV.—" WHAT IS THE KEY TO THE ENIGMA?" TTUTC was no wep'dation in Clementine's breast jtfhen slie returned to the drawing-room af ter ares- ting for dinner and found Dora Blake sitting at fcr favourite window reading the morning paper, Srhile .Morton walked up and down the open space an the other side of the room, # "Well auntie, dear, did you enjoy your day ■rith the old fogies at Highclere ?" inquired Tmy, kith an attempt at her accustomed sprightliness. I al ays enjoy myself with old friends," an- iwered Miss Blake T You are such a devoted old dear. 1 always jind S'r Nathaniel dreadfully heavy on hand." "What has become of Lizzie ?" asked Miss Biake. "I went to Iter roam just now and found Jt empty. Is she out?" "Hard y, in such weather as_ this, 1 should think," said Morton. Paragon is in stable, and ready to kick it to pieces in his exuberant fresh- ness. I have just been offering him the consola- tion of a bunch of clover." "Then where can she be?" exclaimed Miss Ulake, wonderingly. ii The gong will sound in a minute, and she is always a pattern of punctuality." The gong sounded almost immediately, but Miss JJardinan did not anpear, Clementine felt her- turning j ale. Horatia reared her head ready for a fight. As they crossed the hall to the dining-room Andrew slid up to Aunt Dora, with a secret insinuating air, and offered her a letter on m sal vci'i "Good heavens," she exclaimed, "It's from Lizzie Whatever can the girl mean, by writing |o me ? Is Miss Hardman upstairs ?" No ma'am, she went out two hours ago." "On f00t_and in such weather? «'She had her waterproof, ma'am, and hand- Where "d MK tick person must have sent lor Her, saici miss JJlahe, opening the letter# ?V™o°nof"PP0?,1*}' you is one iota the less because I fee.l mJ { om Jelled to hve the rest of my We to away^o j wo'1- shall never forget your g > iope you will lei me pee you as often «»«' !fneet without inflicting trouble uP0{\Jk and jjiuiniliatiou upon me. When I canJ mv con- write wore calmfy J will try to explain duct, b»t I canned Iw I feel thatyouwilltuBt °c,veli enough to be Bure j 8hall iwro»g, a"rrL t,1'ing foolish. I Soin° the » bonne among respectable working P^t h ve Jjjy kind O home to which I am entitled. 1 h^e »ne faV°u„ ?a3l< you, and that is to tell no one »t v ?°"tents of this letter. Your always loving, always grjtef^ Tliey ]?ad ai' seated tnemaelves at the dinner uhle before Aunt Dora opened her letter, g1* ■i#rery eve had been upon her as she read. Her ;iftCe wM clouded over with a look of the d0epe\ ^igpleasui e before she came to the bottom oi the buLtl'e- 8?id "ever a word, and pat the u?r pocket as if there werC n te P • J the communications. ^jjorton said grace, and began to dispense the jouP< And pray, nowaeeg Lizzie explain her mys- ^rious disappearance ?» he asked( carelessly. a'fa-V r?S £ ni?ej his tone was reassuring to fcis sisters. who had been goaded to desperation by ^lie idea that he was really tailing in love with Mjeir aunt s p: oteg £ "Quite ^factoriiy. She nas gone to see r f Blackford friends." "On foot with a-hand-bag—and ata moments notice ef? ?;lmed.Morton. What in Heaven s .jiaDJ^.00 e lflduced her to act in such a ^•'No dotibt tnere was a g00(j reagon for her conduct. Sh^ ls not a person to act upon a Impulse. Her letter is too hurried to explaia,hei Motives, but I feel sure that v hat Bhe has done wisely done.' ««I have a good mind to go after her directly I fcave dined and 8ee whaf it alT means. •« £ Norton, with a great deal more concern thanJ»s listers lit Vhat is her address in Black1 •, "She has not given me any address," ^he(X Aunt Dora, quietly. "No address-no explanation The tfci»S 19 ^credible. 'She promises to write tne » rait accountofM* movements shortly. Pray don't flurry Jyiorton, Lizzie is a thoroughly sensible knowa how to take care of herself." „ ,lld still "If she were as wise as Minerva. I Mor- lay that she acted foolishly to-day," ,reP*lCc„tlets, Jon, staring blankly afc a dish of sal"30" Siting without the least idea that Andrew waf,henot jor him to distribute them. "Why co« to these Consult me, or you, before she went jve to ■fcnknown relations ? Why conld< she n jrjghclere Jhe station? Imagine her tramping jjer arm {hrough the mud and rain with a bog ou !t is too absurd ner yourself, "If you don't mean to eat any wjtjI ours," Morton, you may at least let us go i"'d Horatia, with subdued displea^ _^Dg ;n the -he was a young woman never rxued to de- lc r age of her opinions. SbewaM" si,oiild she Send her treatment of Miss Hardman. »e called upon to do so.. very uncomfort- The dinner proceeded, but 1 waB oue of Able manner. Andrew, .j,e family affairs those old servants who ^ne thejneeiveB knew almost better rc]Jnate was l»is nephew, an Iheui. S? -^irjDosed to have no comprehension >onest PPpas>iing events than if he had >f, or t or a plate-warmer. So there was a c? t uPon conversation on account of the ho restrain1 r tu 0_ Yet conversation flagged presence oi fc Dora looked pale and unhapnv feofuUy. ^ar(]ly eat anything. The girls fu'. ^,1 couia f g|,UIt3 of unnatural vivacity. M„r Iged piously out of temper. He neither ate but vented his lllhumour in abuse of 'None for ¡ne. lI¡deously 1ndigestibFelY. Duck. A4 £ llS!°e f LtzzU?' She must „ave ht tlle stborPf/^f J116 cross-roads. Sillv girl! as 3be le g0.n,e ln the brougham." <glie V. U ls^1 to appropriate all the ld llny« spiteful .'And to leave no address! How are we to ftnd her letters—her luggage? She must have "Jen beside herself when she went. Auntie, can .j sii offer any explanation of her conduct ?" "I don't think we need discuss it at this a .orient," answered Miss Blake, quietly feeling that this one particular subject should be kept "acre! even from the confidential Andrew. Moifcon p:shed and pshawed, and fluug himself pack i\ his chair, turning a stony eye upon the ►art am pudding which were ottered hun, ana re- > ised U be comforted with salad or eheese straws. lemeniue nibbled her cheese straw and trifled ifith heiglass of claret just as if dmnerwMgoiug On iu th^nost cheerful manner, and to Moiton s L,med an hour or so before Andrew fcdaSAy scraped up the last cnimb in his and had reconciled his mind to leave I. it last, however, he was gone, and the i Mv vf'ere Uone at the festive board, where the amuy an<%erby fruit dishes reflected them- wT in the fining oak just as they had done first dined in his new house, orton leaot.W folded arms on the table and looked str&teV033 at 11 is aunt* "Now," l'e fi l decidedly, "the servants are one and we c^ ave tliis matter out. What is ?. key to the Lizzie would never dream leaving tJ,1?«use in such a mauuer without roe powerful native. What is that motive ? Has .ihe been to some relative's death-bed ? fTn* she been caf^ away to nurse someone." 'b «' Her letter d» not gay so>» "What other i on can 8he possibly have? Please let me see rlett8r>.» "I don't thinkJi,ouid be justified in showing »ou the letter. 1'. wrjtten hurriedly and with Evident agitatioD, was intended for my eye you tiling find fault with the spell- ing or because theqg ar0 ,10t dotted?" asked Morton with an ang., v h "I have a right *o see that letter. ''I really ciUi°9 ?ke that right, Morton," answered Dora blaltte w the faintest ray of Pleasure in hercoutena tiI1 tj!is moment fad been full of care, -e i9 all the worl(J to » but snecan t>e very tQ although 40u have been RO°^ae" give her the shelter w -1 ^0Ur roof. ]»8t a« y „ have done had she # T^ei. a pet dog of mine.. • 44 What y V1' cri^d Morton. i ) 4nmping up from hw c > j },ave no patience » V vitb such absurdity, bhe' » at deal to me- < s> ny adopted swter, my ,ny true and faithful friend I handie* indeed! Why. \»be haa ljefn. n??r, ^tv know" the last tliree months. I shall hardly do with toS« P»'<5 "'«• "'vexation, 1 of cob and^eie confirmed. >That .idic 'l»«9 gftther ro0ie f'af w_as ,on]y ie forerunner 'f titnh d alltl fful oflfenngs I e\: v'r brother s heai t, h 'nfclew me. ( -M5 loiatia took P vou might» » T One would think y 0n ir;ve to extst 3 rMthout an adopted sister, ters >vidence has fc>le«t you with two actual i(1 *,0 are just i, ifficiently well educated aud write » from dictation," she said with «air. L "But neither of which s.s t herself t of the way for the space morn- ih Ig to oblige ine," answered Mortonj '• Becau e a real sister has hrist, f°r EUC^ ■, f^>ad-eating," cried Clementine -with of- | ^ende l dignity. Because a 8 flo L t.^n l to gain by flattery and ser J V daresay fte> 1 were a penniless dependent ^itex H.ird. 9 «eV n I might be c -pable of just as ,nean. a at? as in the hope ot getting a ricli !b*thou,Fh ?< m sure I should hate myself for it. O W Morton's eyes flashed honest indignal u h« listened to her viperisli speecn. "I think I can understand now wi HeJ,»!lTalfi° "und the table, and w. ln-nrhv his aunt's side, holding out his haadnd- J.;Seb7»Sr»n.u«,Urit,U.= »ir. Sk.g.««». • B without a word. about a summon .}■ There is not a pliable about a ,m r J. • ,r Bla-kford friend., he saia wnen J|y t8 Mad tiie letter. An on]y have ctig Tangley for ever, bhe coul Jretched b IKicii a decision because she w „ave8t e i'M»d a week ago she was she tdl brightest of us ° tt j -jjg ftny q\ • a happy as the day was long. Had she anj q< s t ? m, u | ^B«lItl5uk^S'ra will be »*>'•to er'J Hl'-fium- t»,- .aiaM»rt»n.Biai»; m airily at Clementine. "I left you Wh in mwing-room with Lizzie after luut^cps- must know what put it into her head to go off in this way." I «.iy know that she cot into a furious pas- sion at so i ething that Horrie or I said to her— mere chaff-anrl bounced out of the room like a termagant." answered Tiny with an innocent air. She is usually so good tempered. Surely chaff, as you elegantly can it, could never have pro- voked her into leaving Aunt Dora." "She is very sweet tempered to you," s id Horatia. But she is not quite so amiable to us." How dare you say anything so unjust and un- true, Horatia 1" exclaimed Miss Blake. I know how Lizzie has borne with you both." Oh, there has been need of forbearance on Lizzie's part ? Morton inquired, determined to sift this eocial mystery to the bottom. I know Lizzie has been made to feel her dependent position here ever since she was old enough to be sensitive," said Aunt Dora. "Then my sisters have been very despicable," cried Morton indignantly. Dependent, indeed When she has been the most valuable person in the house after you, Aunt Dora. Valuable in the house, and—out of it—the moving spring of other peoples'comfort. And that she should Le tyran- nised over by two j'oung ladies who have not an unselfish thought, whose rule of life is the indul- gence of their own whims 1 It is shameful, and I am ashamed ot having such sisters." The two girls rose simultaneously as if they had been moved by the same clockwork. "I think it is we who ought to have gone away," exclaimed Horatia, Evidently we are not wanted here, and the sooner we find another home the better. It is fortunate for us that ppa. left us incomes which at least make us indepen- dent. I suppose even we may be allowed the use of the brougham to drive us to Highclere to- morrow morning." "You can make fools of yourselves in any man- ner most agreeable to you," answered Morton, coolly, as he went out through one of the French windows that opened on to the lawn. He had never been more angry he had hardly ever been more agitated. His eeuse of right and justice was outraged by the thing that had been done. It galled him to think that he had two such vulgar young women for his sisters. "I suppose it is an innate caddishness which must come out somewhere," he said to himself in bitterness of spirit. "The taint of the gutter— the original sin of low birth." And then he thought of Lizzie, his faithful nurse, his sympathising companion, the one only woman who had entered into all his plans, and understood his views. Dulcie had been very fond of him as a lover, but she had not cared a jot about him as a political economist. Cultured, well read as she was in the whole range of elegant and imaginative litera- ture, she was horribly uninformed about the wrongs of mankind, the government of the land 111 which she lived. She considered political economy as a dry-as-dust something outside the circle of her life and thoughs, like logarithms, or Sanscrit; and she had always yawned a little when her lover expounded his philanthropic theories. Lizzie had shown herself so intelligent—not pretending an interest, but really feeling it- helping him with ideas as well as with rympathv —telling him without scruple the weak points in his schemes, the flaws in his arguments. She had forced him to respect her, as well as to be grateful to her. And now she had been driven out of his house, goaded to desperation by the malicious speech of two unmannerly girls. So great a wrong was not to be permitted. It must be set right, somehow, and immediatelv He roamed about the garden for half an hour feeling that he could hardly endure existence in the house that held his vixenish sisters; and he wasted a quarter of an hour i;n the stable, devot- ing the greater part of the time to fondling the cob, who had been bedded down for the night and stood up to his knees in golden bright straw.' It was striking nine when Morton went BIOWI^ back to the house where the lampa had only jU8t been taken into the sitting-rooms. J J He did not go to the drawing-room, bnt to Ms Aunt Dora's room, feeling that 8he was likely to prefer that retirement to the society of her nieces? Slid instinct had not misled him. Miss Blakf was at her Davenport, writing in the soft light of her shaded lamp. 0 •■Auntie, what nre you going to do about Lizzie ?" asked Morton, seating himself near his bis aunt, and coming to the point at once. I am at this moment writing to her uncle, Joseph Hardman. I fancy she must have gone to bis house. I can think of no other place to which aIle would go. What is Joseph Hardman ?" "A mechanic. He is employed af an™ iVAn works. I believe Lizzie's two sisters were brought uy by his wife and her brotherYves with Ids uncle too. I believe that Lizzie, in her auiet unobtrusive way, l,a^ always been veiT good to SSe^ mSU C' aSWeU toSSShS Morton looked at his watch, "It will be too late to teWranh :fT ride to Highclere cn the fS\1 '-ereJ° stable," he said with a sigh, horse in the "Ever so much too late. Pnt as well as & telegram. There i« « setter will do perate hurry. Lizzie is such a thr^° "u ^es- girl that she is sure to mana<y« £ QU*& y 8ensible even away from us." ° ^er life oroperiy "But there is need fm." <. impetuously. ''Shein,^ cried Morton I consent to her havin^ m U'k that you and not for an hour, loiitrpr'fli aug ey* ^ot for a day, must not be allowedTo » ° Can> 1,elPed* ,She turned out of dm>-«- suppose that she has been nuM self-denying creaturt" ^c~tbe s<mtleat* barilla ialTufc unma"ned at the thought of how badly She had been treated, and his eyes were tls Jie started up from his chair and began to pace the room. Have you the remetest Dotionof what it is that my sisters dislike in her—or why they have treated her so infamously ?" he asked presently. 'Infamously is rather too strong a wo'd. said his aunt, smiling at his vehemence. have never been particularly kind to her, and they have always taken pains to let her feel the distinc- tion between her position and their own, »n sp of all I could do to bring them up on a pertectiy equal footing, Perhaps they have resented my affection for her, though heaven knows my heart iq u:„ pnoueh to hold all three. Since your m prefer her the.m'l" L -d Morton If She is worth a sn p. ghe ig the Bweeteat Sri'ev?remet. But why should they be jSus of a girl whom I regard as an adopted SilMisl'BIakVs heart, which had glowed with triumph at the beginning of Morten a speech, was somewhat chilled by.the conclusion. Your gift of the carriage —— she began. "Surely they are not mean enough to .grudge i.Uj.f I remember Clementine went on about the cob io ft very ridiculoos way—but I thought "I™cr'il wS'fus't mdi fun as that yhich drove Lizzie out of the house. A high-spirited sensitive girl would hardly stay in any man's louse if she were accused of setting her cap at him answered Aunt Dora, with eyes bent watchfully on her nephew's perturbed counteu- anettjng her cap at me! Too ridiculous!" ejaculated Morton. Why everybody who knows anything about me must know that I have done with all matrimonial schemes—that courtship and marriage are a closed volume with me in the book of my life." A young man does Bometlmes-once in a cen- tury orao-get cured of such a sorrow as yours, Morton, and find perfect happiness where he least thought to win it-" 1'111 not that kind of man, and Lizzie knows it I have talked more freely to her than to any- one else. I have treated her more like brother than a sister. It is utterly shameful and: wicked if those girls have teased her with insinuations of that kind. There is not the slightest 'ground for them either in her conduct or mine." I knort* that," said Aunt Dora meekly. "However, I shall goto Blackford to-morrow and find out this Joseph Hardman's house, and bring Lizzie home with me." you think that by such an act you might give your sisters some" for their sus- picions ?" asked his aunt. What do I care for their suspicions?" Or might you not even compromise Lizzie in the minds of other people. You know your own feelings, and thatch* can never be more to yon than an adopted sister. But other people will in- sist upon having their own ideas, aud on dissemi- nating them. Had you not better let me fetch Lizzie from Blackford?" Yes, that would be better. Lizzie would like that better, no doubt. I had that plan in my mind when I came in just now. If you will go to- morrow, dearest auntie, and insist ou her coming home with you immediately, I shall be eternally grjl|fgave his aunt a most affectionate hug, by way of earnest. My dear Morton, there is no occasion for gra- titude," she said, smiling up at him in the lamDligbt. "I am much more anxious to have Lizzie home than you can possibly be. It is very kind of you to be so warmly interested in her wel- fa'"i phould be a brwte if I could feel less •vfarmly, after all her gooJness to me." replied Morton. CHAPTER XLYI —A LANE OF^CHIKNETS AND SHOO. Lizzie turned her back upon Tangley Manor that rainy July afternoon with a heavy heart. Pride gave her a kind of spurious force. She had always been a girl of resolute will, able to conquer difficulties, to set a curb upon feeling, to achieve and to endure; but never in. the past had she so much needed courage and resolve as she needed them to-day. She had made up her mind that to remain another day in Morton Blake's honse would be to sacrifice womanly honour and self- respect. She had been openly charged, iu the grossest words, with scheming to win him for her husband. Her only justification, in the eyes of thece insolent girls, her only possible assertion of her'own dignity lay in immediate departure—in putting herself out of Morton's reach for the rest °f" Or at any rate till I am old and gray," she said to herself, as she put on her neat little felt hat, and comfortable waterproof Ulster. Per- hjma thirty or forty years ? fought'my way through this difficult world, and gained a decent position by my own labour, I may feel justified iu seeking him out, and asking him to take uu the thread of our broken friendship. He will- be famous by that time, I hope; a Cabinet Minister, the saviour of his country, per- baps. Oh, how proud I should be of his reputa- tion. even when my feelings are blunted by age and hard work." Her nerves were strung to their utmost tension, her brain was in that excited state in'which vivid thoughts and fancies follow each other in sw if teat- succession. "Poor Morton, she thought, with a sigh, he paused absently in the task of packing her travel-* liner bag. I believe he will miss me a little." If it "was painful to think of leavina Norton, ithow much more bitter must be tho \}y^U(?ht of leaving her friend pud protect:ds, íbe woman [ajvho had given her all a /^other's love and houghtful care, all a sister's sympathy anjid concpanionship. Lisrie dared not let her thiind dwell upon the idra of separation from Aunt foitora. She sustained herself with the hope that At naec^ot be life-lona. They uaieh* 1 1' "J. J" ■■ — nieet and be toother fit times and seasons It was only her severance lrom Morton which must be lasting. "Not for the world would I let tdose cruel girls think that I as acting a part—that I Was only pi ying at going away," she said to herself. 1 must act in such a v ay as tomr.ke them know and feel that I am thorough." # Even in her flurry and confusion of mind she was able to think rationally of the plan of her future life. She had received her quarter's allow- ance from Miss Blake only a few days ago, and she had the whole amount in hand—five and twenty pounds. With that sum in her pocket she felt equal to finance the situation until she could find some kind of remunerative employment for her Ileld or hands. Without either arrogance or vanity she knew that she was clever with both hands and hca'l. It was an unknown thing for her to be setting out on a journey alone, and it was with a strange and desolate feeling that she stood at the crosS roads, bag and umbrella in hand, waiting till the omnibus from Austhorpe should come blundering and creaking along the muddy lane, and heave-to under the sign-post yonder, the coachman pulling "p his horse with a sudden clutch ot the astonishe1 nt the unwonted ppectacle of a passen- ger. Yes, it was strange and dreary to be alone: but lovingly as she had leaned on Aunt Dora in the past, Lizzie Hardman had learned long ago to think and work for herself, and she had a brave, independent spirit. "I had rather bear separation from all I love than be thought carable of meanness," she said to herself., A jolting half hour's progress in the mouldy little omnibus, which smelt of poultry yard and stable, and then she found herself at the High- clere station, an unlovely building, offering nothing cheering to the eye to rest upon save the pictured presentment of a newly developed water- ing-] dace, unknown to the mind of man, but pro- vided with a bay of golden sand, a crescent of Italian villas, a squadron of gaily-painted bathing machines, emerald verdure on the very edge of the beach, and sky and sea of sapphire hue. It remained for the adventurous spirit who tried this happy hunting ground to discover that the Italian villas w ere still in skeleton, while the existing settle- ment was a squalid fishing village that the drainage was an outrage upon civiIisation tile golden sand a snare, and the sapphire sea a delu- sion. Lizzie Hardman looked at the vivid attractions of St. Clement on the Ouse without seeing them, and gazed with the same blank stare at the lion and the mouse and then she walked up and down the dismal platform, and wished that the Austhorpe omnibus had not been so over-con- siderate in giving its passengers a wide margin of time before the starting of the train. But the bell rang at last, and with the help of a friendly por- ter, Lizzie found a comfortable corner in a second- class carriage. She had always travelled first-class hitherto, but she began her new life in the econo- mic manner in which sLe would be obliged to con- tinue it. I ought to have gone third-class, she said to herself, as she counted the change out of half a sovereign, and found that her ticket had cost her twe and tenpence, "but I have never been accustomed to sitting with dirty people. I shall have to educate myself down to my altered circumstances. Perhaps, after all, when I have once got over the pain of parting from those I love. I may be happier as a lonely waif fighting for my way in .the w[orl^. than could ever have been as a dependent in Morton s house. Oh, those girls How they have made me suffer She looked back at her life of the last four years, since she and Morton's sisters had grown to womanhood, and she almost wondered at her- self for her patient endurance of all the petty slights and deliberate snubs that Clementine and Horatia had inflicted upon her. "Ihope I am not mean-spirited for having borne it all so tamely," she thought. But nc, I had Auntie's love to make up for all their unkind- ness. It was Auntie's pleasure I had to study. To have resented such small injuries would have been only temper and false pride. Ihey never insulted me before to-day.. She sat looking out of the window at a country which was altogether new to her. bhe had never been to Blackford before. Aunt Dora bad thought it well to make the severance between Lizzie and her brother and sisters as com- I plete as possible. She was to occupy a different place in the werld. By and bye, after her adopted mother's death, when she should find her- self amply provided for, she might be :IS bountiful as she liked to her familv, but she could ne one of them. Education, surroundings, associ- ations, would make a gulf between them, xnere was no pride or hardness in Dora-Blake s nature, but she felt that half measure here would be a mistake. » i« "You must not think me unkind, darling, sie said one day, when Lizzie had | si on to go to Blackford and see her brothers and sisters, who wrote her such nice letters plate hand, with very few faults iu' a,n who were always so prettily grateful for her Dresent* "But when I took you for my adopted daughter I told your poor father that you were to belg to me entirely, that my relatlOns were to be your relations, that you were to be a Blake and not a Hardman, and that I sheuld hold myself re- gnonnble for your prosperity and happiness m life. She can never be more than a friend at a distance to her brothers and Biste^ I told him. Your father was quite willing that it should be so He told me that he gave you to me as a free gift. for the love of iuti±er\ bo^oin friend and companion, Geoffrey Blake, and that you sTwuld be as much my own property as if you were » little negro bought Ml A&MM market- -PlI?izz;i had "obeyed her adopted mother, sub- mitting to be guided by her superior wisdom, yet not without regret for the brothers and sisters who were never to have any intimate share in her life. All the kindness that it was in her power to show them she had freely given, and her letters had been full of affection for the kindred whose faces she had never seen. Thus it was that the country between High- clere and Blackford was new to her, and she watched the passing landscape with curious eyes. For some time the scenery was purely pastoral. low-lying meadows, meandering streams, a wooded hill-side in the far distance, water mills, sleepy villages, all the poetry of rustic life. Then the whole character of the scene changed at once, and Lizzie beheld a district which was to her as a new world, a sudden revelation of ugliness, under a smoke tarnished sky. Brickfields, chemical work, tall chimney shafts, gas works, bone burning works, all the hideousness of a manu- facturing neighbourhood. But Worst of all was the baneful atmosphere, tainted", ithall the variety of nauseous odours, dull with smoke, oppressive to the lungs, depressing to the spirits, thick and slab like the witches' gruel, an atmos- phere in which hope and joy must surely drop their wings and expire like a pigeon uuder an air pump. And now the open waste?, the brickfields were all gone, and the train was panting its slow way over the crowded house tops of a dingy city; and now it was in the smoke begrimed terminus, doors were slamming, porters shoutfng. and Lizzie Hardman knew she had reached her destination. Having nothing but her bag to carry she would not indulge in the luxury of a cab. She had never been in London or any really large town, her travels having been confined to sundry excursions to pretty sea.side places, and to the English lakes, with Aunt Dora. She had therefore no idea of distances, and fanced that her Uncle Joseph's house could not be far nft. e She asked a porter to direct her to Milton: st eet. "That will be in the Potteries," answered the man.It's a longish way. Hadn't you better have a fly ?" "No thank you, I am a good walker." The man directed her. It sounded a long way and after she had come to the Ultima Thnle of his direction she was to asle anybody who would instruct her in the rest of the way. The rain was over, the sun was setting, a mag- nificent sunset in the country, no doubt, but here onlv a lurid patch of red gleaming athwart a bank of angry clond. Lizzie walked briskly down a a long smoky street, where shabby shops and shabbier private houses alternated, and where the dirtiest children her eye had ever beheld were at play in the gutters. Her soul sank within her at the foulness, the unlovely sights, which greeted her on every side. and as she trudged bravely along, following the porter's direction, now pass- ing the blank blackened wall of a factory, now I walking beside the slate-coloured water ef a canal, she kept repeating wildly with maddening itera- tion, and to the beat of her own foetsteps, God made the country, and man made the town.' « "0. It was a long, long way to the district known as the Potteries, which seemed to have been so christened for no particular reason, save the whim of the bniider, inasmuch as there were no potteries in the place. To Lizzie it seemed the longest walk she h&d ever taken in the whole course of her life, and yet ther light footsteps had carried her many a mile by lane and meadow, by heath and hill. The narrow monotonous streets seemed interminable of the factories and ironworks, the bone-burning and the soap boiling there appeared no end. Lizzie fancied she must have been tra- velling" through that dull gray world for hours when a foundry clock struck the first quarter after nine, alldshe knew that it was only three- quarters of an hour since she hud left the ter- minus. And now she was at the end of her journey. This was Milton-street, in the Potteries—evi- dently a new district—a raw, bare-looking street. tolerably wide, tolerably clean and tidy. but hideously flat and monotonous, never a porch, or verandah, or jutting window to diversify the plain brick fronts of the square eight-roomed houses never a flowering creeper or green ivy to beautify the dull brickwork, Lizzie knocked at the door of twenty-reven, her uncle Joseph's number. Her heart beat hard and fast as she stood waiting for admission. How would they receive her? Would they be warm and loving to her in ber uesolation VYould th$y reproach her for having kept herself aloof from them in the past? It was a painful ordeal, to meet those of her own. flesh and blood, so near and yet so distant—strangers whose facta she had never seen within her memory—sisters who had been nestled in the same motherly bosevo. I hope they will love me a lufct&^in sfita of everything," she said to herself. (o be contin.)

ARRIVAL OF PRINCESS LODISE. The Allan m^il steamer Polynesian, with the Princess LO?.3e and Prince Leopold on board, arrived at ^loville on Sunday at mid-day, and will be in the Mersey at three to-day. It was expected that Her Royal Highness would have orocevded to London by rail, but the Royal yacht Victoria and Albert is now in the Mersey, hf the Queen's command, to convey them direot to 0sborne. The Princess and Prince will be trans- ferred from the Polynesian to the yacht by the company's tender. The Polynesian made an ex- cellent passatre, having left Quebec on the 31st Joly. The Princess and Prince are well.

After some further evidence on Monday morn- ing, Mr Matthews said he could not dispute the facts. Mr Day said he did not impute corruption to Mr n.berts personally, and their lordships J" served judgment until to-dav- ■'

I Y GOLOFN GYMREIG Dymtmir iln goheb.vyr Cymreig gyfeirfo en goheb- iaethan, llyfrau i'w hanolygti, &c., fel ycanlyn —"DAJFYDD MORGANwa, Hirwain, Aberdare."

AT EIN GOHEBWYR. "Cartref."—Cymeradwy. Byddwch ofalus i ddewis yr ansoddeiriau priodolaf i'r sylweddeiriau, a pheidiwch gwneud gormod o ddefnydd o eiriau ansatliredig. Gobaith."—Da chwi, dysgwch odli yn gelfydd a phriodol y darn hwn, fel llawer darn arall, yn odli yn hanerog iawn. "Y Gwydriad Cyntaf."—Teilwng o'i ddarllen, r a'i efrydu gan filcedd.

CADEIIilAD DEWI WYN 0 ESSYLLT, YN ABERTAWE. Awen aridas aneiddil—Dewi Wyn Yrodd dorf ar encil; H II n &'i fyw g&n ni fu gvnil I lunio tasg Syr Rowland Hill. o. D. MORGANWG. Caed arwr y cadeirio. A Dewi WYIl ydyw o. Codir 'n awr i'n cader ni-un brofwyd Yn brif.far.1d eleni: Hedai'r brawd i dwr y bri, A chawn heddwch i'w noddt. Ein braf frawd bia'r hyfrvdwch—o'r god, A'r chwi welwch o bara mewn pybyrwch—gwobrwyo ITeddyw sy iddo; A oes heddweh ? Hebio i rwysg cader bren—at un auf Taniai ef ei awen Unwcli, a rhowch eich hwre—nertn y geg, Ie, criwn "Abreg," nes cryn y wybren. CADIFOB.

« DIAREB, Yr Englyn buddugol yn Eisteddfod Deheudir Cvmru. Gwirionedd mewn gwisg werinol—i bwynt,— Ergyd hyw, naturiol Yw Diareb, heb o'i hoi Air o'i bath,—mae'n wir bythol. WATaYN WYN.

GORFOLEDD MEWN GORTHRYMDER. Dedwydd er mewn gwendidau,— mwynhau cap Mewn cur a dohjri. u, A dyrys orthrymd^rau,— Duw feddant, A gradd o fwyniant cyd-rhwng gruCddfanau. Bangor. OGWENTDD.

GWEDDI. Gwaedd enaid yw gwe-tdi union,—a hed 1'1' nef a'n boll eirchion Ac yn Haw ffydd rhydd yr iOn-Ei buraidd Ras i'r gwvlaidd yn drysor i'w galon. 4. dawn y byd crediniol—yw gweddi, Arch dadguddiad dwyfol; Erfyniad. lief o'r fewnol, Ddaw a nef dangnefedd 'nol. Caerffiliv DEWI Atm.

DINIWEIDRWYDD. Agweddiad pur ac nddaø-yw adrar Diniweidrwydd, urddas Ein byd, a'i gryd yw gras- Gelyn i bod galanas. Euraidd em yn ngboron-y bodau pur, Bywyd pob prydferthion Ac hanfod llwydd gwynfyd lion, A golud pena'r galon, Daerffili. DEWI Auit

Y MEDDWYN. Rhyw wichiwr croch fel mochyn,—a nauwr Syn ydyw y meddwyn Gyda'i frol, fe godai fryn, A'i gario fel rhyw goryn. Gwelaf ef, y gwaelnf un,—yn dyfod O'r dafarn yn aflun Ah gwerthodd mewn modd gwrthun, Byd o fel. bywyd ei fun. u Treboetb. ALFRT»

BRIALLEN GYNAR Cyn i'r a » el oer auafol Newid am y chwnon iach, ;Cvn i'r llwydrew gilio'n hollo) Wele hi, 'r Fiiallen fach Henffych iddi, dirf flodeuyn, Cyntaf ferch y Gwanwyn mwyn, Etifeddes Mawrth ac Ebrill Sydd yn gwenu dan y llwyn. Dengar yw ei gwisg feJynwedd, Addurn prydferth bon y berth Golud hon yw perarogledd, )' A gwyleidd-dra yw ei nerth Eistedd mae yn Mhalas Anian, Felbrenhiues deg, diail, Dan ei choron euraidd, fecliai Areigorsedddlosoddail. D'wed fod Haf ya dod yn brysur, Gyda myrdd o ddail a rhos— Blaenffrwyth Adgyfodiad Natur Ydyw y friallen dlos; dwelir ar ei heirdd ddalenau, Yn llawysgrif Crewr byw, Addewidion gwell tymhorau— Proffwydoliaeth natur yw. Pendeulwyn. W. BASSETT (G. Dely)

PRIODASGERDD, -Cy&^ynedigiMr James Wynne Hird, Liverpool, -a Miss ATVJwens, iJronwenirvryd, Swy4d2jmnn. ar yr acblysur o'u huniad mewn glan briodas, Priodas dda. da i'r diwedd, A bywyd hir, byd o hedd, Fyddo i chwi yn teddiaut I fwynhau, a gwenau gant. Duw a selio yr ymrwymiad ;,+ Wnaethoch wrth eich huno'n Gwenau'r nefoedd fyddo'n wastad Ar eich llwybrau yn y byd Llaw Rhagluniaeth fyddo'n estyn O'i thrysorau i chwi'n hael '.Cofiwch chwithau, fel dau blentyn, t- Roddi diolch wrth eu cael. Oadwyn berffaith o ddedwyddwcl Fyddo'oh gyrfa yn y byd. Yfed cysur pur, a heddweh Gaffoch beunydd maes o'r bya; Bywyd euraidd hir o ddyddiau, • Gydag iechyd i'w mwynhau Yn y diwedd, pan ddel angau, Nefoedd fo eich rhan dau. wnaed uno dwy anian—i'w gylydd Yn gwlwm perffeithlan; Da. fu'r oil, Duw fo ei rhan < Hwythau, yn wastad weithion Nid da bod un ei hunan—yn hwjf Mi welaf, y rwan Trech y gwir—o trowch y gan— Dau wyneb a dwy anian. Yr awr a ddaetb, "Hwre:" i'r ddaa—heddyw 0, bloeddiwn eiu gorau; Yn fwy hir oes i fawrbau Diddanwch byd a'i ddoniau. Gu ddoniol i'w hurddas; I mi heb ble y mae bias I blydu i'r briodas. Hwre! i Hird, a mawr hedd—fo Iddo Yn feddiant diddiwedd I'm golwg ca'dd ymgeledd-gymwys laWI Un Ion a rhadlawn, lawn o'r hyawdledd, Byd o heddwch boed iddynt,—a bvwvd, Heb awel o groeswynt; Mwynder hat hoewaf hynt A ymdaeno am danvnt. > Yr amod fyddo'n rhwymyn I'w cynal a'u dal yn dyn Y n unol yn en haoian, Dan fendith teig wlith Duw gwtn Swyddffynon. D. LLEDBODIAN DAVEES.

EICH ROSIE FECHAN. Cyflwynedig i Mr a Mrs Evans. Merthyr Tydfil yn awr, ar farwolaeth ei Rosie fechan, yr hon a fu farw yn Silver Creek, Merrick County, Unol Dalaethau America—er ei chladdu yno. a ddyg- wyd yma i'w chladdu eilwaith. Nid oes paradwys yn y byd, Er hardded gwyneb anian; I Mae rhywun yma'n brudd o hyd > Oherwydd angau'n cwynfan; Ac felly chwithau, geraiut clyd, Ar ol eich Rosie fecban. Er mynu gweled llawer gwlad t, Ni chawsoch chwi 'mor Ganaan, A chwilio pobman am fwynhad—' Nid hawddfyd oedd y cvfan Hiraethu ydych geraint mad Ar 01 eich Rosie fechan. < Nid gwynfyd oedd New Zealand Nil. chwaitb Amerip, Iydan, Qud adgof am yr olaf ddaw > A'r dagrau'n ffrydiau allan; Hav ddydyw wylo yn ddidavr Ar ol eich Rosie feehan. Byd cymysgedig ydyw hwn, tf Mae chwer'der yn y cyfan Er chwilio nodau'r cread crwn Nid melus pobpeth anian; Mewn hawddfyd gofid ddaeth yn bWD Ar ol eich Rosie fechan. 1 Ni cheir Paradwys is y nef, I fyny mae y Ganaan, A gorsedd Duw a'i seiutiau Ef Yn uno yn y cyfan wylwch chwi a mynych lef Ar oLeich Rosie fechan. < Fe roes Amerig iddi fedd, J Ond mynai Cymru eirian Ei chael yn ol i'w thawel hedd,' I orphwys yn ei graian A mynych aogof trist eich gwedd Ar ol eich Rosie fechan. Tueddwyd chwi i'w chodi bi, A'i d wyu i Gymru fwynlan, A chawsom wel'd dan dagrau li A wylo gyda n1 Ar ol eich Rosie fechan. Fe hoffai engyl Gwynfa wen Ei hanerclt gyda chusan, A deuant eto uwch ei phen I BUO iddi gynghan Ond wylo ydych chwihi ddilen* Ar ol eich Rosie f". Y nefoedd aeth a'ch geneth dl081 Mae heddyw yn y Ganaan Mewn gwlaa lie na cheir lleni r not Yn cuddio'r blodau purlan J I fyny mae anfarwol ros, A byw eich Rosie fechan, IEr rhoi ei'chorff mewn daear lawi Mae iddi newydd anian. A chyfyd eto fel y „ Fe drenlia farw allan A llathru byth mewn ceinder mawr Y bydd eich Rosie fechan. Clustfeiniwch yma riaint mad adlais ber ei chynghan, Nac wylwch anwyl fam a thad Tra can eich geneth wiwlan; Ond tvnwch fyny i'r mwnhad, Ar ol eich Rosie fechan.. IOAlt GWXMT.

CRIST YN TAWELU'R YSTORM, Ar fir Tiberias yn yr bwyrddydd tawel, 'R oedd llongvn lledu'i hwyilau yn yr awel Ao ar ei bwrcfd 'r oedd Oadben lacbayrdwria^^h, Ya njffayd&'i etfeDl^ia.«tif«ddW.^ t "Awn drosodd i'r làn draw," dywedai'r lesu, UcheigaMburEifronoedtynenynu; Mewn lion ufudd-dod idd eu Hathraw elf, I'w hwyrol daith cychwynant ar y lli', Aloe llawen oeddynt wrth fordwyo'r doff, 'R oedd myrdd o swynion ar y fordaith how,. 'R oedd myrdd o swynion ar y fordaith how,. Yr awel falinaidd 'hedai dros y A sawrus beraroglau ddygai hi; Llyfn balmant ydr gloyw oedd y don, Heb arwydd brad na digter yn ei bron; A'r haul wrth fachlud dros yagwyddau'r gralg A daflai aur-belydau dros yr aig 'R ol llafur maith y dydd, yr Athraw tirion Orweddai'n awr yn llesg dan faich blinderon Ar allu dynol Iesu fe roed rheol, Ond nid oedd terfyn i\v ewyllys ddwyfol; Ac i'r tu ol i'r llong mae'n ymneillduo, Amelus hun y gweitbiwr mae yn huno Ond tra mae pawb yn lion a'r Athraw'n cysgu. Mewn cyngrhair mae ellyllon dig y fagddu 0 Yn cynllwyn brad yr Athraw a'i ddysgyblion, Er boddi'r eglwys yn nyfnderau'r eigiau'r eigion. Mae mantell y nos ar y tonau'n daenedig, Llusernau y nefoedd orciiuddir a chaddug, Dystawrwydd pruddglwyfus deyrnasa r awrhon, Mae anian mewn gwewyr, lleddfgwyna'r awelon Ah 1 wele chvs im fellien yn dymhestl negesydd, Yn gwibio drwy'r cwmwl, yn fflamio'r wvbrenydd; Y daran herfeiddiol âg erchyil ryfelfioedd I'r ymgyrch ddinystriol galw'i byddinoedd; O'r cymyl y aberoedd sy'n disgyn, Nes berwi o'r dyfnder tel crochan gan ddychin; Gan hyrddwynt ystormus fHangellir y tbnau, A'u ymchwydd a gyfyd fel dyfrllyd fynyddau Ofnadwy yw tynged y llong a'r dysgyblion, Mae angau'u hyliuremu'n mhob gwyneb yr awr- hon, Mae'r tdnau'n ymdaflu i'r bwrdcl fel rhaiadrau, A'r daran yn uchel adseinio cnul angau Yn ngolea y meilt y cantyddant eu beddau, Obry'n y dyfnder rhwrig dyfrllyd fynyddau Doethineb a ballodd, diangodd pob gobaith, A llanwyd pob myiiwes gan ddychryn marwol- aeth; Ac o'u cyfynzder dyrchafasant weddi— 0, Feistr 1 a'i difater yw eiu colli? Yr addfwyn lesu safodd uwch v dyfnfor, Tra'i lwvdwawr li'n ewyn a dygyfor, Cervddoda ei ddysgyblion mewn tynerweh— "0 Chwi o 'chvdig ffydd, paham yrotnwch Sihrydodd "Ust," yn nghlust y 'storm herfeiddiol; Ha 'uwch oedd sisial Crist na'uswn trydanol, Adnabod llais, a phlygn l awdurdod < Ef Hawdwr wnai'r elfenau mewn ufudd-dod, "Ust ^r, gostega," oeddynt eiriau heddweh Rh wng dig elfenau, a bu mawr dawelw ch. I'r eslwvs, pan ddilyn celledigaeth, Trwy r Iesu mad daeth odiaeth waredigaeth Daw lion" yr Iachawdwriaeth yn ddiangol 1 T;w 'lJtwydd byd yn iach i-r porthladd nefOJ. I. Den. DAVIES.

Y FFORDD I DDEWIS GWRAIG DDA. (BHDDDGOL.) # Mae Caru, Priodi, a Byw, meddai A Nhw sydd yn gwybod y cytan Yn ffasiwn sy'n erofyn bod dyn ar ei^ Rhag gwneuthur "FfwlEbnll oi • Gwaith hyfryd yw oaru, ys d'wed Newyr ac, A dedwydd yw dydd y priodi, Dud Byw ydyw'r felldah, a'r unig drawback A boena'r mwvafrif wna byny. Ac er fod y ffasiwn mor fyw yn ein gwlad, A miloedd a'u bryd ar briodi- Pob bachgen yn mynu, fel mynodd ei dad, Rhyw feinwen yn wraig i gyd-oesi Mae nifer y merched dry'n wragedd mor wae Bron llwyr ddigaloni y bectigyn» Acofnwyf, os nad oes rhyw welliant l w gaei Mai inarw wna'r ffasiwn o newyn. Ond rha^r i^f hen ffasiwn dda fyned clawdd Neu rhywbeth fel Strilce i gyfodi, 0 flaen y do ienaingc rhof gyullun go hawdd I ddewis un dda i'w phriodi. ■ Bu Hard o'r Felin, a Die Dan-y-graig, A minau (ein tri fel clwmllinglwm), Yn nghwmni ein gilydd nes cael pob o wralg, Ac yna 'madawsom, wrth reswm. Yn wraig, mynodd Harri Miss Agnes Jane Price, Yr hon wpll na'run Ladi, A chysgai am oriau bob bore mor nice Ar ol i'r diweddaf i godi: r Ond heddyw ceir Harri'n dihoeni gan fraw, Rhag cwmni'r bwmbeili i'wgaban; Mae hyd ei bigyrnau mewn tlodi a baw Prif orchwyl ei Agnes yw clepian! Yr ail a nesaodd at flymen oedd Die, Yn llaw Bessie Flounces Cetrwyfsnt Un gwyntog oedd Richard, a threiodd eawi trick Gael priod drwsiadus, ag Arian Fe'i cafodd o'r diwedd yn flounces i gyd, A chandii ca'dd ddau cant o bunau; Ond druan o hono, gwnaeth fargen rhy ddruo, 'Doedd ynddi werth swllt o rinwedcUu. I fyw yn y ffasi wn, a morwyn i'r wraig, 'Dyw dau cant o bunau ddim llawer, A chyn pen tair blynedd 'roedd Dick Tanygralg Yn eofyn i mi am hen drowser 1 Fe auddodd i dnyled yn is ac yn is, O'r diwedd rhyw Jew calon galed Ddanfonodd fy nghyfuill, yn rhwym wrth bolice, carchar yo ituon am ei ddyled. Bum in an mor ffodus a dewis fy ngwraig, Drwy fwg a esgynai o simne Y bwthyn gwyn-galchog tan gesail y graig- Mwg cyutaf groesawai y bore Ac yno mewn tlodi y cefais y ferch Sydd am ei rhinweddau'n ddiareb,— Diwydrwydd, gonestrwydd, tynerivch. a A baentiwyd gan reddf ar ei gwyneb. Y gwaddol a gawsom i ddechreu ein byd Oedd gallu, ewyllys, a cbatiad; A phob peth a feddaf a gasgiwyd yn ngbyd1 Drwy help a medrusr^ydd Anghaxad Yr ydwyf mor bapus a brithyll mewn IiyJi. Heb arnaf i neb yr un geiniog, 'Rwy'ii frenin bach dedwydd, mewn ty fel y pin-— A rhywbeth ar gyfer "dydd gwla^og." Ddyn ieuangc daymunai gael cydmilar ddina 1 I w chael hi, myn wybod i ddechrdu | A yw un ddiwyd—yn ufudd i'wWm— Yn syber—yn codi yn fore:" Paid hidio am lendid, na chyfoeth ychwaith haen ar y croen ydyw glendid, Cardotes a rhiniau fydd well it' gan wtiith Na *etad gyda lady ddioglyd. Un eirwir, a chariad yn chwyddo ei bron, Ni waeth os mor llwm a llygoden, Dyn ffodus bob amser brioda fath hon, Er gorfod rhoi crys am ei chefen Ni waeth pa le le ceir hi,—os hau ar y fron, Neu'n gweithio mewn chwys ar y patches • Ha hanfod dedwyddwch priodas ywbon I Pe'n gwerthu nodwyddau a matches. t GwYDosYDD.

THE GOVERNMENTTND THE jl MINERS. DEPUTATION TO THE HOME SECRETARY. On Friday afternoon a large repreaentative deputation from a miners' association waited on Sir William Vernon HarcouTt, M.P., the Heme Secretary, at Whitehall, with the view of bring- ing under the notice of the right honf gentleman questions affecting the interests of miners gener- ally throughout the United Kingdom. The depu- tation, which was introduced by Mr Macdonald, M.P., included Mr Burt, M.P., and about 25 delegates from Durham, Lancashire, West and South Yorkshire, Cleveland, Northumberland, Asbton, Oldham, South Wales, &c. Mr Mac- donald, in introducing the deputation, said that its object was to lay before the Government the views which had been brought forward at the Miners' National Conference held at Manchester in December last. The subjects to be brought forward would be, amongst others, the inspection of workings, the use of blasting powder, responsibility of chief I manager, qualification of under manager, qualifi. cation of firemen, new mines, duties of firemen, Tod Minister of Mwes. He hoped that the Com- m^sion which had been appointed on the subject, would-be able to issue its report before the next 0{ Parliament: that the Home Secretary would next session be aide to introduce a msasure dealing with the safety of miuers m the mines. Th^ did not claim special legislation, but ade- quate legislative protection from the^e„ to which they were «Hf^nS°^wd (West Yorkshire) remarked that with regard to the inspection of workings it was important that the workmen should not be allowed to enter a mine, or any portion of a *o which the Mines Act applied, until it had been ex- amined and reported to be free from an ac- cumulation of gases, the examination to'jtake place not more than two hours before the workman entered his working-pi"Mr Wm. Pickard (Wigan) called attention to the effects of the use of blasting powder and other explosive matters iu mines. In the case of non-gaseous mines, of course, they did not u ish to prohibit tbeuse of explosives. He would callthe gaeeous districts South Wales, North Wales, Lancashire, and Yorkshire.—The Home SecreUry OIcourse you know that this matter is under the careful consideration of a scientific commission. It will be one of my first duties to examine their report when presented upon the subject.—The question of the responsibility of oi-ief manager was next brought forward by the deputation, the sugges- tion being that the certified manager should be held to be the person who had the responsible care or control and direction of the mine,— Home Secretary, in the coarse of the discussion, remarked that it was quite clear to him that the intention of the Act was that there should be a competent person at each mine, who should be responsible for the mine, ud who should make a daily supervision ot its—-M* Nixon (Northumberland) urged that the fact os -workmen examining mines under the 30th genøal rule of the Mines Act should not relieve the earners from any responsibility whatever.—The Home Secre- tary As I understand the clause, ltd oes not relieve either the-mining owner 05-the manager from any liability. It only givea,an additional; security to the men if they choose to exercue it, (Applause.) If theinspectors have taken a different view, I think that it is an incotiect view. Ado not thiuk it is a fault in the Act, but in tl ad- ministration of it. It is quite clear that it does not relieve the owner or the manager. It ia merely an additional ligitt for the miners to go and satisfy themselves if they so please. Several other matters having been referred to by the deputation, Sir William Harcourt, after acknowledging the importanoe of mining Maffecting the prosperity of the country, said that whilst on the one hand they should do nothing to cripple that great, industry, yet, on the other hand, it was not at all, he believed, incompatible that all necessary security should be taken with regard to the lives of those men who were engaged in the hazardous trade. Their object would be to give the greatest possible. security to the men embarked in the trade without adopting a vexatious course with regard to those w. o had embarked their capital, which was equally necessary to the development-of the mining interest. That was the spirit upon which the legislation of the past bad tentatively been founded. The late Govern- ment had very properly appointed a scientific commission to examine into the blasting of mines. He awaited their report, considering the two ter- rible accidents which had occurred of late, considerable anxiety. The question of inflamma- ble minea would undoubtedly have to bedealt.vitti in the future. He should consider in eVet" way in what point* the existing legislation had been defective, acid in what manaer that 'legislation could be improved.

Emma Pleasance, convicted last week of the I murder of her ittlan^ 4ftV £ uter has been ro-

TALL RIGHTS RESERVED.J ? THE I LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF A SOCIAL WASTREL/ OR THE ( UPS AND DOWNS OF VAGRANT LIFE. CHAPTER VII.—AN EXETEE LODGING-HOUSE-BOW STREET IN SOMERSET-STOWS AWAY ON A CARDIFF STEAMER—TRAMP LIFE IN WALES—AN r ARMY OF RATS-THE WORKHOUSE THIEF—ON I THE TREADMILL IN CARMARTHEN GAOL—STEALS A WIG—BROWN HAIR AND BLACK EYE-BROWS. Martin's ill-luck with his "kite" made him I resolve never to try paper-begging any more, a determination to which he strictly kept. He saw he would be far safer if he simply told his story, and left "kite-fiying" alone. On his arrival at Exeter he had some intention of trying the Bishop and othefjJhurch dignitaries, but was told in the lodging-house that there were several "private-clothes men" who did little else but watch "travellers," and that Exeter was "the hottest hole in England." The lodging- house he stayed at in Exeter was of a type he had not hitherto seen. It was a very large buildinp, consisting of three houses thrown into one. Each house was partly a sepnrate establishment, t the prices being sixpence, fourpence, and three- pence per night. Those who paid sixpence were mostly hawkers, with one or two professional beggars or "kite-flyers," The "fourpenny doss" was patronised by "mush fakers," tinkers, grinders, and sinaliware hawkers whilst the rest of the tramping fraternity were accommoded for threepence. Martin had found that those who were on the same "lay" as himself were re- served, aud chary of giving any information to a stranger as to good houses, whilst ordinary tramps were prone to talk of nothing else. For this rea- son Martin spent the evening among- the common herd, the talk being of little else but the good- ness of the Welsh people. "Talk about Cornish pasties—they're first-rate when you can get 'em, but that's not often enough. Now, in Wales a fellow's no need to go with an empty belly, and they're the best 'grubbin' kens' in the Country. J'd sooner sleep in 'em than in anv doss crib, said one tramp, whose workhouse rig bespoke him as having recently done a tear-up" in some vagrant ward. "Yes,if you can eat black bread an 1 skim cheese. But I likes semethin' better nor that," said a big hulking fellow. Lr-e-r- "Pooh If you know your way about in Wales you can fetch three good cants every day; and as for browns, why I've had thirty bob in two hours on a Saturday night." Here a police-sergeant came in, accompanied by two in private clothes. They looked very sus- piciously at Martin, whose clothes and appearance were not in keeping with the "threepenny doss," and one of them asked him where he came from,' "From Cornwall." "What, to-day?" by rail. Perhaps you think we ought always to walk." "If you don't walk out of the city to-morrow I'll run you in,n j. "An' he'll do it, too, so if I were you I'd cut in the morning," said an old tramp, whom the others regarded as an oracle. Martin followed his advice, and set out for Honiton, with the intention of eetting out of Devonshire as quickly as possible, for he began to think it all unlucky county for him. His money, not reckoning the £O, was getting short, for he had "done nothing" for some days, and he strongly wished to keep his notes intact. So, coming across a stene-breaker on the roadside, he L-II • J ,who lived at a big house on the 11 t » r of which was close bv. It s Lady C* and a good lady she fs. If yon can get up without the bobby seeing yOU, she'll give you something. But they watch the place so much, it's hardly safe." Juat then another tramp appeared, comin" in the opposite direction. As he approached Martin said to himself, "That's a policeman, well got up but he can't cheat me. "How do, mate; going v:p ? Let's go up to- gether." "All right," said Martin, "if you'll 'put on the spout. "No, your toggery's better nor mine. She'll listen to you best." "How many poor devils of tramps have you taken in that disguise ? Oh You need't look surpnsed I can smell a policeman." and Martin laughed heartily at the constable's change of countenance as he walked off. Martin reached Honiton. and although tired, resolved to walk on, and get into Somerset. When darkness came on he was tired out, and glad to lay down in a cow shelter until morning. Early in the forenoon he found himself at Wellington, and called at the house of a clergyman, who, he had been told, was "good for a bob." Martin simply told the man his story, and was given five shillings, the clergyman remarking that he be- lieved he spoke the truth. # "Let them fly their 'kites'who like: I'll do it no more." said Martin to himself, as he went back to the lodgmg-honse. There the talk among the lodgers was of nothing else but Wale?. The Lancashire cotton famine was just then excitintT the compassion of the country, and the inherent generosity of the Welsh people had been strikingly manifested. ° J "I've just come through it; and all a fellow's ot to do is to say he's from Lancashire, and he'll live like a fighting cock, "said Irlnlunan,as un- like a factory operative as he possibly could be. His story of his Welsh experience was eagerly listened to, and Martin was only one of many who eet off for Wales the following morning. A pip-ceof an old newspaper he picked up on the road- side advertised a steamer from Burn ham to Car- diff, sailing twice a week, and by walking hard all day he reached iBurnham at night. He easily found the steamer, but the fare was half-a-crown. Watching his opportunity, he slipped on board after dark, and stowed himself away in a corner among the goods. He fell asleep, and was so tired out that the sailing of the steamer did not wake him, and when he did awake he was at Car. I diff. The captain was not angry when Martin made his appearance, for he had many such experiences. In walking up the town Martin met a tramp he had known in Kent. He had been round Wales, and though his account was not r quite BO glowing as the Irishman's, still it was at- tractive enough "I should push on into the country if I were you. This county's pretty well 'coopered,' and I don't believe you'll get a 'doss' in the town. I slept myseif last night at the old police-station and there was nearly thirty there. Nothin' but an old guard bed to'doss' on, and a pound o' toke. But if you want to know all about Wales, that's the place to go to. Half ef 'em goes for the fun of the thing." Martin did not care to sleep on a wooden bed, for the fun of the thing, and finding that the town was crowded with tramps, he set off west. On nearing Cowbridge, about noon, he met two tramps—a man and a woman. "Hallo, mate, come far to-day? Cardiff? We come from Bridgend, but if we'd known the Cow- bridge 'bobby' was away from home, we'd ha' stopped there. But we was too soon in the town to do anything, so my 'doner' just went up to the College, and we come through. The College? Oh it's only a grammar school, but it's called a College. The head boss is good, according to the yam you pitch him." Martin went to the College and saw the head boss," who was suspicious of Martin's tale, and only gave him a shilling. On arrival at Bridgend he found the police bad closed the lodging-houses, typhus fever being prevalent. Martin was re- commended by a policeman to go to the work. house, as it was a clean place, with good beds. And so it was; but the large influx of travellers consequent upon the lodging-houses being closed, had turned the clean vagrant wards into a verit- able pig-lttye. In a room accustomed to accom- modate six tramps, over 20 were locked in, with a huge fire burning, to sleep, packed like bricks, some on the three beds, and the rest on the floor. For hours the talk went on and if only a tithe of the tales was true. Martin had come into a tramps' paradise. The dodges they had practised were recounted with glee, the earn with the Welsh were gulled forming the main characteristic of most of the yarns. At length all was quiet, and Martin, who had given a man sixpence for his place on one of the beds, began to think about sleep. Suddenly a loud yell burst from one of the men on the'floor. What the —— the matter ?" Bats That's what's the matter one has taken a piece clean out of my ear." Mattin lay awake after thaVor he had a merbid terror of rats. When all was quiet again he saw the rats come out one by one, and attack the pockets of the sleepers on the floor. Presently one man, being disturbed, rolled over, and thus squeezed a rat. Its squeaks, and the man's laughter, roused everybody, and there was no more sleep.. In the morning not a man would go on the pampt or dig up potatoes, for their break- fast, and. the master sent for the police, who drove them all out. At Aberavon Martin encountered a ttamg hft had seen in Plymouth, accompanied 0?* bis "nipper," as he styled him. This, fellow had heard Beech, when drunk, say that,Martin was a miser,lmd had plenty of money, ani he determined to e3,<6 Martin of it if possible, Martin told him plainly he did'nt his company, and hearing the fellow of ten. say he never went into a workhouse, Martin we1¡, iato that at Swansea, thinking to escape Iwe. Bnt just ere the house closed, Spanish and his nipper were admitted. Martin took, att < fie precautions be could, but with a lot of b-pa nround he was not successful in hiding cVeg He kept his trousers on, and tried to the consequence being that when h Bieen it was very soundly, so soundly that h$& ld not feel the abstraction of his precious papers. woke in the morning he missed „-f What was he to do ? If be reportr^ jlis j h; would probably recover the w but t't, expense of being sent to jr isoJn f mg relief under fahse preteaeer Twenty pounds It might be many a bef ify 'e ,)0 had so much money ag** Bat a Jnonth, ». ° pnsonment! Martin'a experiences of a gaol were not so bad ..but he Cor1(j not oxpect to t g like ho did m Dorset. No, tbe m^ev °0n trLtntw" '■somC more' if Wal« was fhe tramps El u was said to be. So, doubt- less, somewhat^ their surprise the thieves were allowed to CP with their prize. It did not dS werTlX' K°°a-, ?^Cy drUDk tbat S « 1 ^4 ,the Teater part of the raeney SP^h Jim." As he could not ««<i 0 y 11000,1111 for »t. he was remanded, eventually sent to gaol for a month as a B**j>icions character. But a worse misfortune than the loss of his £20 was to befall Martin. He had heard one of the tramps ia Swansea workhouse fpeak of a hall on the Cumatthe side of Llanelly, as the residence of a gei-.tlemaa well known foe hia charitable disposition. Had Martin been versed in tramps hieroglyphics he would not have passed through the lodge gate. Just as he got there an old tramp was scanning something on the gate- post. He shook his head, and muttered as he passed Martin, Spose it a right; good job I spotted it." On the gate-post some good-natured tram u had cked a sauare. with ft tri&nglq inside of it. The tn-'Dole meant that the place had been coopei ed" J,n(l the square that it was "gammy [dangerous, j few days before two sturdy tramps had thrown a paper full of ser *ps into the cook's face, spying" they wante1 money; they we:e caught and sent to gaol, the master of the hall from that time diy claring his determination to prosecute all beggars. Thus Martin became the first scape-goat. He went up to the house, aJked to see the master, and before he could say ten words was ordered off, and he had not got a mde away from the i lace ere a policeman was after him, who took him back to Llanelly. Next day he as sentenced to 21 days' imprisonment in Carmarthen Prison, Mar- tin began to think his lucky days were over, and when the gaol doctor certified him fit for hnrd labour, and he was put on the treadmill, his degradation in his own eyes, complete. The turnkey in charge did all he could to teach Martin how to "tread the millbut Martin was very short, and the hand-rail by which he hung on the mill was higher than usual, so that he ke; ton striking his shins. But the governor came round, and saw Martin's unsuccessful attempts to work aright. He ordered him down, asked him a few questions, and then sent him among the second class prisoners to pick oakum. Although Dot au fait at teazing rope, there were plenty to help him, for the day of model prisons had not dawned at Carmarthen, aud each class was in association, though separated from o her classes. Martin gained nothing by three weeks' contact with such a crew as he had to herd with. Veiy few of them were tramps, but they made up in loquacily what they lacked in numbers. Tin y lalKed of nothing but the" fakes they had woiked, and the good houses they had coped and jvL tin carefully treasured it all up for future necev Sunday came, and with the Welsh chnp: c i-ne an English clerical friend, who preached. Mar- tin knew him, and wendered much whether lie would be recognised, for he was an old college friend as if so very conspicuous a figure and countenance as his would not be known. Next day he was taken to the chaplain's room, and his fellow collegian was there Martin had i-.g:dn found a friend. He expressed no surprise at see- ing;him there, but offered to pay his fair to Lon- don. Martin declined, and also any offers of assistance but when he was discharged a sover- eign was given to him, which he would have been more than foolish to refuse, for his hair had been cut so clese with the gaol barber's scissors that it might, he thought, as well have been shaved. He soon found that the Welsh people looked with snspicion at his bare head they would give him nothing. Even at the farms the people would scarce give him a crust-of barley bread and cheese, and had it not been for the sovereign, he would have gone hungry enough. On the third day of his release he called at a large house on a cross country road between St. Clears and New- castle Emlyn. As he passed the greenhouse he saw inside an old gentleman asleep in an arm chair. What caught Martin's attention was that the old gentleman's wig was falling off. Here was a chance. It would certainly be months before his hair grew eneugh to take away the prison mark from him, and no wonder, therefore, that he hesitated. The old saying that He who hesi- tates is lost" was here exemplified. Martin, up to that moment, had never actually stole anything, and it was with a trembling heart he gently opened the hot-house door, carefully disengaged the wig, and quietly retired. Once clear of the premises, he made the best of his way on the road. Not knowing the way, Ma-tin became bewildered by the many cross roads in that district, and at night found himself at Llanboidy, not more than seven or eight miles from his starting point in the morning. On entering the village a 6tout, farmer- looking man, standing on a door-step, stared at him very hard.but said nothing. It was the village policeman, and one who was a terror to tramps. But Martin passed on, and when a couple of miles away ventured to go up to a farm house, and ask for shelter fer the night. He had put on the wig, and it fitted veiy well. A tramp wanting to lay down in the barn let us have a look at him," said the farmer. Well, poor man, he loeks not bad, he shall stay." When Martin was having supper with the ser- vants, he noiiced them looking with anxious and amused eyes at Ids new head gear, and heard one of them say, His hair is brown, but his eve- brows are black." Martin took no notice, but not knowing how far he might be from the house whence he stole it, he got up early in the morning, and set off before day light, without taking leave of the farm folks. That night he reached Newcastle Emlyn, and took a bed at an old hatter's, a lodging-house well- known to all travellers. The old hatter" as very particular whom he took in, and was rather dubious about admitting Martin. "Oh, he's all right, Mr I saw him down west. He's a regular lurker, but he's changed the colour of his wool since then. I suppose he's been in 'fatir, whispered a hawker of small wares, a masculine.looking woman, well known "on the road as Big Bet." "Big Bet" made tea for Martin, who had be- come less squeamish in his ideas about eating in lodging-houses, and sat down to share it with him as if she had known him for mcrlLl. Look here, young fellow," whispered she over the tea-table, "it's no business of mine, but if I were you I'd go to bed erly to-night, and let the old hatter dye that wig of yours. You look too conspicivus. He'll do it proper. He dyes all his own hats." Martin thought the advice good, and the hatter readily undertook the job, which did not take more than an hour, so that Martin was not obliged to go to bed. "Big Bet" seemed to have taken a fancy to Martin. She told him the fair was to held next day, and ee it would be no use "going out" tt.e., going begging], as all the best people would be at the fair. "Butyou'd do a good day's work i[ only stand pad' at the fair, with a board in front of you, as a Lanca- shire operative." Martin pondered this. Any- thing to make money," he said to himself. "I can't be worse degraded than I have already been." So he begged the bottom of a lace box. from "Big Bet," and in his best style printed thereon, "Pity a poor Lancashire operative.' The printing was a work of art, aud many were the expressions of admiration from the other "travellers" when it was finished. (To be continued.)

FATAL FALL FROM A WINDOW AT HTCHELDEAN. A shocking accident occurred at Mitcheldean, near Ross, on Friday. A young woman, aged 17, named Mary Adams, only daughter of Mr John Adams, painter, of Mitcheldean, was cleaninga win- dow, when, by overbalancing herself, she fell to the ground, a distance of about 19 feet. She died almost instnntly. The deceased was a teacher at the Mitcheldean school, and a member of the Church choir. She was about leaving home for a short time for the holidays had not this sad accident occurred.

MAY AND DECEMBER. On Saturday, at Rochester, the magistrates (Alderman Webb in the chair) had before them a curious case of assault, which excited much in- terest. Harriet Weat, of 26 summers, was charged with violently assaulting Joseph West, hetr husband, an old man of 82. a well-knol n herbalili t of the city. She had blackened his eyes, knock, ,d him down, and jumped upon him, severely" l- juring his ribs. The solicitor for the complair ant Baid that the marriage had, as might have been expected, proved a Tery unhappy one; b his client would be satisfied could he have T &>rotec- tion. Defendant expressed her willingr .ess to find a surety to keep the peace for six months, and the magistrates adjourned the case ♦ „ -nahl* herfather to attend and enter inta tho necessary bond.

MR. GLADSTONE AND TIFE WELSH Speaking at Penmaenmawr7 on Friday, Mr UuinneM Rogers said Noncpnfbr iUiits hadacknow- « ?th 1 w Sl -a8 T1 Political leader enthusiasm f .trJ never be.en aecwd. to H. tical chief. His intent* Li„ earnestness, his op.eDuess to recelve,trtà .nd to a3crifice every- openness to receive tmth r >nd to sacrifice e;ery. moment w&s th&t uL-# 1 i pv » MS. th. Ij|,i0»l t>;k. a whose library consisted of a ¥ A t \« & J'-nmentaries thereon, and who UK wv*Ql' 'dstone. He was glad to find, aitnougn w rjter „f the article in question did not intentt ft, these two points so closely associated alov^ojv Je Bible and a love for Gladstone; ti, V* ted they would lonz continue amongst tbe pr«v» characteristics of every true and typisai ,Welshman. (Hear, hear.)

HARVEST AND THE GRAIN TRADE. I' The Mark Lane Express of Monday says :—Fair weather, with Ie ,8 rain, has enabled the farmers of the home and southern counties to fairly begin harvest. The wheat crops will be a great im- provement upon that of last year, but the yield is likely to be ef a most uneven character. The markets of the past week have been the subject of a letrogade movement. The reactionary movement in the trade has been coufined for the most part to wheat and flour, foreign descriptions of which must be quoted 6d to Is lower 011 the sack and quarter respectively. The pulse of the English wheat trade is now running 60 slowly and feebly that it is impossible to discern any change. The deliveries at several well known markets have stopped altogether. Last week there started from American ports for the United Kingdom 320,000 quarters of wheat, and 262.500 quarters of maize, besides 05,000 barrels of flour. Shipments from America to the Con- tinent are stated to have been 330,000 quarters of wheat and 120,000 quarters of maize, but this remarkable piece of must be received under all reserTe..

A Court of Inquiry will shortly assemble at Aiderahot to investigate a charge preferred against certain markers at last week's ritie meet- ing, under similar circumstances to those which are said to have prevailed at Wimbledon. Dr. Joseph Parker has gone away for two months, and during his absence the congregation worshipping at the City Temple ire to have a thorough change in the way of "pulpie ministra- tion. Availing himself of the meeting in London of the Wesleyan Conference, Dr. Parker has secured the services of four well-known Wesleyan ministers, namely, the Revs. W. 0: Simpson, Dr. G-ervase Smith, Dr. John H. James (Mancliester), and Frederick G eeves. Other leading Noncon- formist divines have also engaged to render i:11J! while the Dottcfr away on hit holidajr,

THE MONMOUTHSHIRE MINERAL CAS E. < THE YICE-CHANCEl^OR'S JUDG- MENT. f IMPORTANT DECISION IN FAVOUR I OF THE COPYHOLDERS. In tLe Hih Court of Justice, Chancery Division, on fcaturday, before Vice-chancellor Sir C. Hall, in the case of Llanover v. Homfray and Phillips v. Llanover judgment was delivered. The action was brought by Lady Llanover, as lady of the manor of Aberearn, to establish her rights to royalties 011 all minerals got by copyhold and leasehold tenants of the manor under their hold- ings. The Tredegar Iron and Coal Company, who have been working coal extensively in the manor for come years past, "vere defendants to the actioa, with Messrs Phillips, their superior lessees, who were themselves copyhold tenants. The success of L.. (ly Llanover in this action would have entitled her W a present payment, it was stated, of about and would have eshb. lished her right to a future income from the coal worked by her tenants. Mr Kay, Q.C., Mr Kekewich, Q.C., and Mr Hornell appeared for the phjintiff; Mr Henry Matthews," Q.U., aud Mr Fueling for the d. fendants. The case was argued about three weeks ago, and was fully reported. Vice-Chancellor Sir C. Hall, in delivering his re; orved judgment, said that since the hearing he had read through the documents in the action, and given the matter the fullest consideration. There was no doubt upon the law if tLe case the only question to be decided -.ss on of fact. The plaintiffs in the cross-action of Phillies v. Llan- over sought to establish die existence of an ancient custom of the manor which they put forward and in su; port of their case, they relied on three sets of parole evidence—the first were depositions taken in 1753 in a suit of Morgan v. De Burgh (the defendant being the t en lord of the manor), which was instituted by customary tenants of the manor, who sought to perpetuate testimony in support of the alleged custom secondly, they relied upon depositions in a suit of Morgan v. Hall, which was a similar suit by customary tenants to establish their right to quiet enjoyment of the custom they alleged, the depo. sitions being taken de bene esse; and in the third place, evidence had betn adduced in the present actions. On behalf of Lady Llanover, both parole and documentary evidence had been given, including the proceedings in several suits in- stituted by the lord of the manor for the time being against tenants claiming the right to work coal, as well as a number of licences granted to customary tenants to work the coal. Those licences extended as far back as 1809, shortly after the then lord, Mr Benjamin Hall, had purchased the manor, aud continued down to 1854. Mr Hall, and after his death in 1817 his son, Sir Benjamin Hall. who was created Lord Llanover, who bad devised the manor to the present lords (the trustees for Lady Llanover), disputed the alleged custom, granted licences, and instituted the suits to restrain the tenants from working the coal 011 the ground of the non-exist- ence of the customs. Those suits appeared to have beeu compromised, as the lord was willing to let the tenants work the coal upon paying some small consideration in the shape of royalties. Reliance was not to be placed on the amount of the con- sideration, as the arrangements were in many in. stances made in connection with traffic arrange- ments with regard to the use of a tramroad belonging to Mr Benjamin Hall. But in one case the tenant expressly stipulated that the arrange- ment should not be held to be an admission of the lord's claim, and in one of the cases also the receipts given expressly kept the question open. On the whole, treating the suits and licences as being favourable to the lords on the question of fact, the court, in determining the weight to be given to them, could not consider them so conclu- sive as might have been the case if the lords had succeeded without compromise in a hostile litigation. The oral evidence on behalf of Messrs Phillips, notwithstanding the evidence adduced on behalf the lords, had clearly established the custom. In Morgan v. De Burgh, Moggridge v. Hall, and in the present case,a num- ber of witnesses had given evidence of its existence. The whole of the evidence was not to be relied upon, but so much of it as was reliable was sufficient to support the custom; giving the fullest weight to the evidence adduced by the lords of the manor, It had been contended that the evidence in Moggridge v. Hall could not be received, that suit having never come to a hear- ing; but it must be acc. pted by the court. The present lords of the manor were privies in estate to the lord at the time when the evidence was given, and Messrs Phillips were privies in estate to the persons who were then claiming against the lord. According to the law as laid down in Taylor on Evidence, that testimony might be accepted. Some of that evidence only pointed to the coal, whilst the custom claimed to exist involved all minerals; but the court must hold that there was ample evidence in support ot the custom as regarded all the minerals. It was not dis- puted that the tenants might cut down timber, and it was stated in the answer of the Lords in the present cross suit, that they believed the owners of customary tenements in the manor had exercised the right, at their own will and pleasure, to cut timber, and work gravel, limestone, and other quarries cut of their hold- ings, and that those rights had not, as far as the defendants were aware, been objected to by the lords for the time being. Even if any one of the three sets of parole evidence given on behalf of Messrs Phillips were excluded, the custom would be established by the remaining two. Two early presentments to the lords had been put in evi- dence, but even if neither were c*n«icUr £ d to ba provea, the verdict must Be given in favour of the customary tenants. The presentment of 1653 had not been proved, and that of 1631 had been attempted to be proved by secondary evi- dence of its contents. By the 25th clause of that presentment it as stated that the J.¡rd of the manor possessed quarries under laudsaevised by lease, and further, that the customary tenants of copyholds of inheritance in the manor had a right to enjoy mines and woods upon their hold- ings by ancient custom, used time out of mind." Assuming there was sufficient evidence of the existence of an original presentment, the mere statement of the contents of the document by secondary evidence, under the circumstances, was not evidence. Then came the question whether the alleged presentment was proved in any other way. De Burgh, in his answer in the old suit, stated that he believed that the owners of customary tenements in the said manor had claimed to exercise, and had exercised the right at their own will and pleasure, to cut timber and work quarries on their lands without objection from the lords tor the time being, but whether the right existed was submitted to the judgment of the court. That statement was admissible in evidence against the present lords of the manor as the admission of a privy in estate that. such a custom tben existed. Accordingly Lady Llano- ver's bill must be dismissed with costs, as re. garded all the defendants, except Messrs Phillips. In that action the court must find that there had existed from time immemorial, and now existed* a valid custom in the manor of Aberearn, for customary tenants to get and win the mines) veins, and beds of eoal and mineral* under their holdings, aIId. to use, sell, and dispose of the same respectively, without the license, of the Iced or lady of tbaCmanor. Liberty wovild be given to either ty to apply for an injunction in case ot their rights being interfered with. In tjbas way the righta of th& parties woolil be declared, and the decree would e) ¡granted in that form, having regard to th^-iact that numbers of the tenauta had entered i arrangements, and taken licenses from the lord?, cases which might have te be taken into consideration in dealing with cases of particular individuals. The result would be that the bill of Lady Llanover would be dismissed with costs as regard all the defendants, exceptiug Messrs, Phillips, and as agaiust them without oosts. A correspondent writes :—The judgment is against Lady Llanover, and in favour of Messrs Phillips and the other copyholders of the Manor of Aberearn on all points. Our readers will recollect that these suits were instituted to try the right to the coal 4 and other minerals under the copyhold or customary estates in th Manor v: Aberearn, in the county of Monmontri. The im- mediate question in the suits related to the right to the coal under a .copyhold farm near Tredegar, which had been worked by Messrs Fonuau and others constituting the late Tre lfgar Iron Com- pany without the knowledge of Messrs Phillips, the overseers of the farm. Messm Phillips had instituted a suit in Chancery seeking to recover about thirty thousand pounds for the trespass in working their coal, and a decree was giveu in their favour about twelve years ago, upon appeal, by Lord Chancellor Hathei ley. Upon that decree being made against the late Tredegar Corn- pauy. Lady Llanover filed a bill in Chancery against the partners in that company, and Messrs Phillips, owners of the farm, claiming the coal and the damages in her right as ot\-ner of the Manor of Abercarn. Thereupon Messis Phillips, on be- half of themselves and all other customary tenants of the manor, filed a "Bill of Peace" against Lady Llanover to have it declared that the coal in their own copyholds belonged to them and not to the lady of the manor. The question involved the right to the minerals in a most extensive coalfield, extending over many thousand acres, and, as a question of value, the matter in contest repre- sented some millions of money. The evidence commenced with the history of the manor shortly after the disaolution of the abbeys as the the manor had for centuries been held in Frank- almor, as ) art of the endowment of the Abbey of Llantarnam. The first document put in evidence was a survey ef the manor in 1631, when it was vested in Philip, Earl of Stauhope. This was followed by another survey in 1653, and by a mass of other documentary evidence and proceed- ings in old suits ranging through the 18t,u century aud down to the middle of the present century. The right lias beeu in actual contest --i;ice the year 1808, and a vast number or suits aud actions have from that time to the year 1848 b-.cn set on foot, raising the same issue as that now decided. In All previous actions compromises were made, r-n l the present is the first time that s. contested suit has been carried to a hearing. The contest as to the right to the minerals has been most prejudicial to a large area of the county of Monmouth and to the port of Newport. It has mterferred with the letting and • orking of the minerals an 1 the development of the buried riches of the county. The briefs oa each side in these puits are of enor.nous volume. Messrs Freshfiel is, the emineut London solicitors, who represent Lady Llauover, say that they are the largest set of briefs ill their experience. The cost, it is said, wiU be enormous. Mr W111. Thomas Lewis has been engaged in the case as mining engineer in the interest of the copyholder*. Tne Marquis of Bute, for whom Mr Lewis sets, owns a copyhold tenement in the manor. Messrs Simons and Pto.Aa, of Merthyr, have had the conduct of the case 011 behalf of the copy- holders, to wh'ch Mr Simons had for the last 10 years given his own personal attention.

At the Edinburgh Sheriff Coru-t, Sheriff-Substi- tute Gebbie eentonceu W illi vu Feirier to 40 days' imprisonment, having, ir. Iris house inGilmour- street" Si.a10h Square, knocked his wife down, kicked her, burned her Lee, neck, and arm with and otherwise ill-used her. Ferrier j Lad beoji several times before couvicted of assault,

=") BOARD OF TRADE RETURNS. OUR LOCAL INDUSTRIES. The trade and navigation returns of the Unitef Kingdom for the mo.ah of July, which werf issued 3'esterday, are of an especially satisfactory j character, owing U> the large increase in the ex«- ports over the corresponding months of the twe I previous years, aDd also for the Lct that thf .^lorts compare favourably u ith those of Jultf last yi**} though unfavourably if contrasted*witl|. the ujy#. The followin, are the aggraw gate totalb and exports during tht past month, >vlth the usual comparison of th* corresponding period in th«» two preceding yezirs IMPORTS, „ EXPORTS. 1S78 jE35,S81,8U" 1878 £ ir>,400,S5T" 1879 30,186,072 1 LW •• 1880 S3,352,59;I | I860 -• 20.270,57V -from the above ngures it w.n ue seen mac, an. compared with 1879, the imports dming the pall( month have decreased at the rate of abvut 10 lief" cent, while, as compared v. ith 1878, they have increased at the rate of about 6 per cent. Thf exports, as compared with 1879, exhibit a« increase 01 25 per cent, and of an equal percentage as com* pared with 1878. Generally speaking, our local industries are well represented in the re'uriis, af a reference to a latter part of this summary witf r sho v. The chief items of increase in the expor are in cotton, linen, woollen, and worsted nianit factuns of all descriptions; machinery, to a N-erl large extent, and coppei. NVith regard to iia ports, hewn wood and timber diows a large im crease compared with the corresponding month r*- last year, and a slight decrease when comparac with the previous year. Sawn, split, &c., timbe( has fallen off somewhat, as has also tin, lead, an< copper regulus, copper ore having slightly art vanced. The supplies of corn of all description- show an improvement, and iresli and salted meat- have also been imported in larger quantities that iu either 1879 or 1878, THE COAL TRADE. .roin the figures which follow it will beseea that the coal trade of the country during tiie past mouth has improved both in the quantity shipped and the amount received for it. Cieiierally speak- iug, it v, ill be observed that the tonnage contiast* favourably not only with last ye;ir, which was as abnormally depressed one, but also -1 th the pre-, ceding year, when the downward movement had scarcely commenced. The or,ly co m tries tfJ which the amount shipped last month was lest than in the correspondiug period of last year are Egypt and British India. That the supply to the former country should have fallen off is not a matter for surprise, looking at the state ot things there but the decline with regard te British IIndia is not attributable to any want of credit or activity there. It is probably due to the fact that some of the Indian coulfieldi; art being developed rather more vigorously than bat previously been the case. The following table shows the tonnage of coaL coke, cinders, and patent fuel shipped in tht mouth 1878. 1879. isso. Tons. Tons. Tons. To Russia 1S0,e63.. 226,399.. 277,181 Sweden and Norway 138,026.. 308,032.. 139,5tt Denmark 97,008.. 79,150.. 87,684 Germany 199,010.. 22S.574.. 233,124 Holland 49,087.. 48,154.. 62,011 krance 267,230.. 260,948.. 296,»11 Spain aa)d Canaries 86,510.. 72.933.. 81,947 Italy 99,577.. 107,336.. 113,991 „ Turkey 33,082.. 13.04S.. 25,61f Esrypt 38,619.. 48,607.. S8,80| „ Brazil 36,450.. 26,455.. 33,4Sf „ Malta 43,100.. 19,885.. 21,8a „ British India 74,369.. 67,372.. 4a,95( tI Othor Countries 250,819.. 249,310.. 201,971 Total. 1,593,550 1,547,298 1,739,944 The following is the stated value of the abov( tonnage:- 1878. 1871). 1880. £ £ £ 748,838 ..„ 660,470 769,966 The amount of bunker coal shipped for the use of steamers engaged in the foreign trade haa been :— 1878 1879 1880 352,796 tons 378,862 tons 446,156 tontr. The value of this coal is not estimated in thf return. ':IRON, STEEL, AND TIN PLATES. The returns of the exports in this important branch of our trade are again this month exceed- f, ingly encouraging, both with regard to the quan- tities shipped and the amounts realised. As com* pared with July, 1879,the increase is at the rate o( over 40 per cent., while, as contrasted with thf corresponding month.of the preceding year, thf increase is at no less a rate than 63 per centq The improvement is principally notieeable ift pig-iron, railroad materials, and hoops, aheeU, and plates. The position of the tinplate trade if scarcely so satisfactory, though tiie total amounf differs little from that of the corresponding montk of last year, while it exhibits a substantial && vance over that of July, 1878. It will be observe4 that the supplies to the Uuited States have fallef o2 to the extent of nearly 2,000 tous; but wit* this exception the figures exhibit an increase ovrf those of last year, and (with the exception of France) over those of 1878. From the subjoined table it will be seen that the United States hat again been our largest customer, and in this j ar ticular, at all events, the succeeding returns will show up satisfactorily. The shipments to thf United State's in the past month have been at uuder Z5. 1879. Isom Tons. Ton. T Pig-iron 2,246 7,206 27,12f Bar, angle, bolt, A rod 385 368 l,5Sr Iiailro&a iron fcjstt-el.. 104 1,219 I*k84f Hoops, sheets, & plates 85 811.. 3,611 Cast or wrought, &c.. 181 451 1^99 Old, for re-ni&Lufacture 158 3,524 2,891 Steel, u ii wrought 396 437.. 1,18. I*he_*e figures represent a large percentage of the following n — n"uta. which rtprxint the total t-hip- ments during the past month, with the ueuai comparison. 1878. 1579. 1BR(J. Tons. Tons. Ton*, Pig-iron. 87,053 80,804 139;51f Bar, angle, bolt and rod 17.690 19,450 20,321 Railroad of all sorts 36.161 41,775 71,40f Iron and steel wire 3,880 3,010 8,76$ Hoops, sheets, and plates 14,684 17,143 22,06$ Cast or wroug-ht 20,041 25,336 27,28f Oid for re-manufacture 3,169 13,125 „ 9,98* Steel, unwrought 1,739 (2,270 S,29( Iron and Steei combined. 959 1,080 X,U< Tin Plates- To Fiance 651 303- 44T „ United States £ 9,761 13,080 11,18* „ British N, America 623 6.6. 911 Australia 139 274 558 Othei Countries 2,663 3,002 4,010 Total of.Tin Plates 13,837 17.204 17,121 Aggregate Total 199,219 221,20* ..815,904. The total value of theae various amounts haak beca- 1 1878; 1879. 1880. £ 1.519.364 £ 1.606.823 &2.S54.01S In addition to the above the experts of iron an4 r steel rails exhibit a vary important advance ovet tke. corresponding months of tba- two preceding years. The figures are as follows, Ib'l8. 187a. 18S0. Tons. Ions., Tons. Iron RiLilg 6,605 3.265, 10,745; Steel nails.. 24,493 329i 63,708, '1 he value of these rails is sekdawn as folio* 1878. 1879. 1880. 7 iC209,042 1217.646 £ 463.968. THE SHIPPING TOADS. The return of vessels entesed and cleared dorinc the past znonth does not .differ materially whei contrasted with the corresponding returns of th< two previous years; but. st ia satisfactory to ob. serve that the change has: in each case been in favour of the past month. The figztrejl are at follows VESSELS EXTZRBD. 1880. 1819. l 1818. Tons. Tons. Tons. Britigh 2,279,711 2,203.670 2,187,859 Foreign 4,317 8,475 7,071 Total 2,284,028 2,212,045 2,194,930 VWSMLS ClJUBlO. 1880. i ■ 1879. 1878. Tons. Tons. Tons. British. 2,077,866 1,011,587 I,9e4,2t7 Foreign 2,140 5,726 8,647 Total 2,080,006 2,017,313 1,972,874

EXCITING SCENE AT PENDINE. [ADVENTURES OF A CARMARTHEB -PLEASURE PARTY. Our "Whitland correspondent sends us the fol. lowing narrative :—On Sunday afternoon a party from Carmarthen arrived at Pendine in a tra:). which they left at the Spring WeUs Hotel, an4 proceeded to the rocks. The party consisted 01 Air Collard, of the Queen's Hotel, Carmarthen his daughter, about four years old; his servant girl and Mr William Harris, 28, Quay-street, Carmarthen his sister, who is barmaid to Ma Collard and their niece, about 12 years old. One of the females drew attention to the approaching tide, which was already washing the base of the rocks, and urged her friends to come away, but they did Iwt anticipate danger, so she came out and left them. On reaching the sands, a distauc* of about 30 yards, seeing that they would be closed in by the water, she attempted to return to urge them to come off but could not do Mb A large number of visitors were watching tne approaching tide from the cliff above them, and 011 observing the position of the party called on them to go out to the beach or they would be closed in. They could at this time have come out by wading through two feet deep of water ovei plain sands, but tl is tney seemed to be afraid to do. John GiiflBth llees, of Whitlaiid, having in- formed Inep^-tor Saers, of St. Clairs, of the mis- hap, he volunteered to drive round to them in their own trap. The s: ring tide was coming into strongly that the inspector experienced difficulty iu reaching them,and once his horse lost it* footin| and fell. However, liesucceeded in getting to tb« spot. Mr Collard carrie,l the ladies and the children into the trap efforts were made ti reach the shore which, after some difficulty, was reached in safety, though the waves at times rose the trap off its wheels. To return for the two gentlemen was useless, as by this time the waves were dashing against the rocks to a great depth. consequently a tope was lowered over the clic The two gentlemen were not in the least alarmed ^.The roj>e was pnlled up three times.not with a human freight, but with bundles of i URP, bottles, aud a basket containing some ware. In the meantime a long ladder had skived, and was fastened to the rope and lowered to facia:a e the first I art of the ascent. Harries, was the hist to come up, but when within about two feet of the top he slipped, and had it not been for a man who went on the bank and give him s hand he would have fallen back. Mr Collard then came up the ladder, and with the assistance of the rope was able to climb up the remaining part of the cliff, which he reached in safety. Out reporter add. that there is no danger to visitors oa Pendine sands provided ordinary care is used, and that the mishap here related wai caused by the carelessness of the party themselves.

I A boy. ten years of age, has accidentally shot himself with a gun at Stapeley, Bedfordshire. The 23rd (VYelsh) Fusiliers leave Woolwich on Monday next for Portsmouth, en mute foe Afghanistan per the Malabar. The 23rd Ragip meut will be presented uith ntfw cetaurs tort. Prince and Princess of Wales before embarkation. The regiment has cherished its oil dags, which v were carried through the Crimea, Wfclle na office* j remained on the roll who shared their glory. Th* colonel's retirement hc^ the onlv obieo* tiOU to i.ew colnum »,