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Lxow FIRST PUBLISHED.]
Lxow FIRST PUBLISHED.] C A M.TO L À: A GIRL WITH A FORTUNE. BY JUSTIN MCCARTHY. Author of "r.Irss MiSAKTHROPE," MAID OF ATHENS," &c. CHAPTER XXV11.—THE RETURN OF THE FUGITIVES. Vinnie Lammas was in the rare position of hav- ing the one great ambition of her life gratified. She was private secretary to a great lady—at all events to Mrs Pollen, who appeared great enough in the eyes of the Fitzurseham foik, and would have been made ever so much of by the West End of London if only she had been willing to accept the West End's attentions. Vmme came every day to Fitzurse House, and wrote letters for Mrs Pollen, or read to her, or walked or drove with her. She went home late in the evening or at any hour, late or early, when Mrs Pollen was returning to town, and Cnristian 1 llgrnn was sometimes sent to see her safely to her door. Mrs Pollen never said a word to Vmme about tue pinnae into the river.. Vinnie felt that her ambitions long-familiar wish was granted, and that she ought to be happy. To do her justice, she tried hard to be happy. She made up her mind that she would get to be happy as fast as ever she could. Common grati- tude to all who had been so kind to her cubed for that much sacrifice—tho renunciation of disap- pointment's luxury, she thought. Mrs Lammas Was made happy by the position Vinuie had got, and by the improvement in Vinnie's health and spit its. Indeed, but for her own secret troubles, her disappointed love, her broken idol, her sense of I eniteuee and shame for her one act of despon- dency and wildness, Vinnie must have been haupyjust now. Mrs Pollen was one of the kindest, and at the same time one of ths most interest ing and original of patronesses. Mr Koinont was in and out a good deal, and always talked to Vinnie in the most friendly way, quite as ifVhe were iI, regular lady. Vinnie s sensations when she saw Mr Romont for the first tune after "that night" were such as she could never forget She thought- how dreadful she must have looked when lit lifted her out of the water and carried her, shore; what a frightiul dripping bundle ot clo. hes she must- have been; in what untold un. imannabie disorder: Sue wondered what he must have thought of her she wondered she ever had the courage to look him in the face. -but ne \Va,s so kind and friendly, so easy in his mannei and so respectful that he put her quite at her ease and she soon forgot all about it—except at toiomcnt?, except at sudden awful moments, when lt would all come back upon her with a rush, and she felt tempted to run out of the room, or at least to hid her face in her hands. It wa" very interesting when Mr Ilomont came in and sat with Airs Pollen and Vinnie, and per- haps had afternoon tea, and talked about, every- thing—what things he had seen and done, what Places, what countries he had been in! and Mis Pollen, too, between them they appeared to have been everywhere in the world. Vinnie had never been brought into close acquaintanceship with a yonni' xran like Romont, who seemed to have absolutely nothing to do in the way ot business, or Cif mnki. g a living. After so many years of Poveity n'd hard work, seeing everyone around her IKU-CI at work, and nevertheless very poor, it Was strange buyond comprehension of expression *0 Vlnme^to find herself the friendly companion of people who never thought about making money, °"lv, as it looked to Vinnie, about spending it; who'had no business of their own to do, but were constantly bu-v about the affairs of other people, trying- to make them better and to keep them "freight.' Mrs Pollen's absorbing interest in a fehe!ne for a co operative butcher's shop at Fitz- fcrseiiam filled Vinnie with the utmost wonder. I'o thi: of a great, rich lady like that actually asking up her°inind to start a butcher's shop of hoy o7.-n for the purp- *e of selling good meat cheap to the dn Adtu) uood-for-nothing thankless people ?■ Fiizur-iijlumi! and Mr Romont, too, was going Int., the matter as seriously as if he had been "hf" »ugtt up to the business from his infancy. Vinnie always had had an impression that people likt> that never knew of the existence of butchers aIJd their shops, and, if they had known, would fisvt r h-^ve allowed one moment's thought to such low subjects Then what things they talked of, Mrs J> ,il, n and Mr Komont! What odd, clever things they both said. How funnily they chaffed j on" another Vinnie did not always catch the point of their sayings quite in time sometimes she oroke into little spurts of laughter which though Itieant for the past joke seemed to come in as the proper tribute to the passing jest. They must be Vety happy, she thought, and why shouldn't they he when they are so good, and so kind,' and so I';(;h ? Romont, we know was not rich, and he had his troubles and he was not always by any ft'ans happy. But no hint of any trouble of his got to Viume's ears, ar.d to ber he was as rich as Croesus, Camiola did not come to Fitzurseham House tuese davs she wrote a letter to Mrs Pollen now aad then, mostly saying that nothing yet had been heard from Janette. No one from the Rectory Same near the place. Lady Letitia in her heart hiamed Mrs Pollen for her patronage of Walter and nourished a kind of acrid thought th&t only for Mrs Pollen things might not have turned out ns they did. Mrs Pollen, perhaps, "M'ected the existence of some such feeling QWI in any case would not have cared to intrude JP"n the Lisles just then. She thought she had heu,er maintain for the present an attitude of Neutrality. I cannot say what side I may have 40 take yet," she thought, "if they hold out *gainst Janette." .One or two evenings after the meeting on the Ejverside between Romont and Camiola, Mrs Pollen, Vinnie, and Romont were on the lawn of itzurse House. Viunie had a volume of Shake- speare ill her hand, from which the had been read- 1lJI{ to Mrs Pollen when Romont presented him- 8&lf. Then Romont stretched himself on the grass 8.1Hl Mrs Pollen and he fell to talking in their Visual iliscursory way, flinging ideas and epigrams and paradoxes at e-.ch other, during intervals of Ri'iiv-r discussion on Australian mutton, and the dwelling 0f the poor, and the difficulty of keeping this Fitzursehamite sober, and that litzurseham- children at school. I have often wondered," Mrs Pollen said, "what are the most pathetic words in Shakes- peare." I have thought of that, too," Romont said. I wonder what he has not thought of," Vinnie asked her own mind as she looked discreetly but ^■Ildi'USlgly at him. What is your idea?" Mrs Pollen asked. No I would rather have yours first." "Weil, I woi'dnr whether any words ever writ- ten or spoken could have more pathetic meaning 'w them 1 han those about loving 'not wisely but t(,o well V Think what a picture of lost lives and fost feelings—of love destroying what it loved, ajid ;dl out of very love, 'not wisely but too well,' Thing of that, and of all it calls up with it in °he'> mind ?" Yea; but what do you say to 'Perchance, *ago, I will ne'er go home?" "That seems to me terrible," little Vinnie ven- tured to say, if I understand it rightly." Camiola always stands out for it," Mrs Pollen quietly, "that nothing can exceed the Path. of Antony's words about 'The poor last'—' Until, of in.tiy thousand kisses, the poor lav upon th}' lips.' Come, what do you say to thai"?-' Oil, but I ilvnk it is quite to bring tears into ?r>yo»ie's eYl", Vinnie declared. Shewus becom- ing quite the poetic and Shakesperian scholar itoia., SHomed distracted. He turned himself 'Vqnie; :y on the grass. "I shouldn't have thoijjfj,t she would fix on that," he said at last. Why 110:, dear youth ?" There seems such an intensity of love, and Passion, and pain in it. I didn't think women felt so much as that. When? How is that? Do you mean women 111 g.e.e-a'.—or thi; particular woman?" W ell, th0rù seeuls It passionate depth in these Words that somehow dves not seem to me to be -c)t by women of a certain nature—Englishwomen «s>A-t-.aily..Some women seem to be rather lifted thHL emotion In Let you don't know anything about the In I don'v." "Who ot; ea th would have thought that a girl '4e J.iue.te Linle, brought up in that kind of way ai'd :i> ,«ucli a household, would have been so can;. d ;n» jtv oy iu 1* iove as to kick right over the traci' ;vad lun off t" I aiwavs thought there was something a •i't'e hysterical about her," Romont said, "aomo- thinij not quite healthy, something lather undis- c'p'ire!—apt to be nuitinuous if any chance should come. I begin to understand you now," Mrs Pollen j?9i<i with a smile, I didn t before, les I sfee. «''e is an undisciplined little thing who runs aivav with, her lovei. Hut there are nobler and ^Orti«r trrainr .s. compact of purer tiro and liner c'i-y, w,,o would not condescend to do flllyt-hmg Or tf'n kind, and whose lovers are only all the Ninre irroud of tln-'m because thev keep thpir love "t: the boiid;; of becoming discipline Jfix- åltiy; yo.t like Lite women not to show too much t: p;s o.jrite ilepth oi emotion and all that. ■Wy .j, vo'.ith, what an iiisulur you are alter ^l! '• Jiut/f a-iy, woe.13 have we led. the Immortal ilojst <<f this was sh- er mystery to Vinnie. A letter was handed to Mrs Pollen. She X'l1a.l it, giaueing up even while she was reading, Now at Roiooiit and now at Vinnie. "This is 'l'ota Miss Sabine," she said. "Our iomant;e. ^aunor^rs have returned at ieast it they iiaven't uit5y have uivo signal of their where-. ll'0'u>; and'ihey <leol.ro themselves ready to i'etiu- Tf all is forgiven, they are willing to c»»ne oack. Wjjere t'o they write from? From jlreineu—of all j»laces in the world." t( Or erairse yes, I know, Romont said Notj,h Corman'Lioyu steamers. They are ready 0.n;t to America if they are not invited to Jei||i'U home." Precise A'. The letter comes from Janette— fr°t« Mr!, Fitzurse—so Caiiiola tells me. They i.iai-rii-d ceremony took place in Scotland, thty went at ouce to Bremen, to be out of y:' Way"«.f all possible trouble by pursuit or M;:iervv; ;,111; if they are not asked to come a°k to England, they will go to America, and in the New World to redress the balance of he old. That isn't Camiola's phrase, mind, tl0r Nanette's it's mine. I mean it's my quota- 10,1 ;roni Pitt, or Canning, or somebody, and I 1'itlier proud of the application of it now. <» V,:u Sliuc^ "a the spur of the moment. J "> -iear, '.lies.* romantic young lovers I declare ailTnire her iioui 'tiselv, and I only wish I could adl:>ue him/' r>J,"i!ioiit 11;\d risen to his feet now, aud Mrs waiked a few paces with him. 5 I'hat child tak(;s it well, slie said quietly, ••die.iting Viunie. Every day will make her t.l'nger now. It is the doubt and suspense that I doi pity her BOw so much any lor but I feel rather distressed about poor Janette. Can he ever come to anything good do you think ?" Romont shook his head. I am afraid not. I don't see the root of any goodness in him." Well, of course, you will say nothing. You won't interfere with whatever chance he has of retrieving himself? Mind, my frienll-, for Janette's sake?"' Uh, God forbid Romont said, fervently. For her sake, and for her mother's, I'll stand aside. If he can come to better things, I'll not I hinder him. The thing it done now." Would you like to have Camiola's letter? I'll give it you if you would?" Romont looked eagerly at the little letter. His lover's impulse was at first to take it. "No," he said after a moment, "it's not mine. What's the good it's yours, Mrs Pollen." Have you anyHcrap of a letter from her?" Not a line. But you have written to her?" "Yes:once; a few lines, as I told you." "She keeps these lines, Mrs Pollen said with a halt-melancholy smile. I don't know." Ask her," Mrs Pollen said, "years from this, and she will produce the letter." The moment the Lisles heard of their daughter's whereabouts, they sent a. telegram to Bremen, and tin; result was that within forty-eight hours Mr and Mrs Walter Fitzurse arrived at the Rectory. Walter had his wife aud himself dressed in the most becoming way for a youutr pair who had made a secret marriage. It was a semi-peniten- tial, throw ourselves on the mercy of parent" sort of get up. Walter had still ill his pocket a few, truly a very few, of the sovereigns which had once weighted .'Irs Pollen's casket. He had spent pretty freely for the few days of the adven- ture, and if the Lisles had proved obdurate, he positively would not have been able to pay for ths passage to America, unless by the pawn- ing of watches and chains, and some of J anette's trinkets. The returning fugitives were well received at the Rectory oy every one but Georgie. He could net keep down his dislike or Fitzurse, whom he considered a beastly cad; and he-could not get over his annoyance with Janette, because she Üad put the family so much out with her confounded nonsense. 1 say, Janette, what a fool you have made of yourself," was his tender greeting to his newly-married sister. Janette only smiled. She knew it was his way, and she did not believe he really meant it, and she thought that all brothers rather liked to snub their sisters and take the conceit out of them. Besides, she was far too happy to mind what even Georgie might have thought about her. Mrs Pollen called, and brought Romont with her. The moment was trying for Romont. He knew-that all eyes were on him. Mrs Pollen was watching him with a curious interest, that, merely, of a spectator who is anxious to know how sume person suddenly made prominent will get througo a difficult piece of ceremonial. Camiola, who had not the sam. knowledge ot the actuali- ties of the situation, lixed her eyes on Romont with a different interest. She could not but think that something had passed between Romont and Fitzurse which would explain, if she only knew it, Romont's sudden intervention and she looked on with as much eagerness, as she might now get some glimpse of the truth from the expres- sion of his face. Janette longed to see Romont welcome her husband with a truly cordial and friendly greeting; and she expected this and looked for it. Fitzurse came iorvvard and held out his hand, and he looked into Romont's eyes. The expression was eloquent. It said as plainly as words could speak, 1 am at your mercy I know it. I deserve anything but will you des- troy me ?'' Then Romont accepted the situation. "Over ankles over knees" is a sensible, practical sort of proverb when one is for a thing, he may as well go right in for it. Romont did the necessary bit of play-acting and pretence with as good a grace and as much appearance of earnestness as ail his practice in disguises and skill in private thea- tricals enabled him to assume. He clasped Walter Fitzurse's hand. "Fitzurse, my dear boy, how delighted I am to see you here"—emphasis on'here'—"aud to give you my heartfelt congratulations." Walter returned the clasp of the hand with a peculiar sort of little after-pressure which plainly said, You have spared mo and saved me. I un- derstand all youi?feelings. I give you my unend- ing gratitude." The minds of all the party were somehow re- lieved. There was hardly one present who had not had a more or less vague suspicion that Romont was Fitzurse's enemy, and could tell something dreadfully against him if he would. At the same time the common conviction was that Romont was a man who would not have pretended to any feeling which was not really in his heart. There- fore when he thus cordially welcomed Fitzurse, and warmly clasped his hand, it was like the verdiefc-of acquittal by a jury of honour. Such is the value of a good character—such is even its oblique value, its refracted value. Romont's good character vindicated Walter, and Romont mean- while was acting in direct contravention to his own principles, and making use of a good charac- ter to screen a bad one. It must be left to casuists and moralists to decide how far he was excusable in this, or whether he was wholly wrong. Ought he to have then and there exposed and proclaimed Walter's falsehood and treachery ? Ought he to have told of the attempt at robbery and the attempt at murder? Ought he to have thereby rendered it impossible for Walter to retrieve him- self, and so made Janette and Janette's father and mother unhappy for life ? If he were not to do this, then was he justified in completely con- cealing Walter's past misdeeds, and so giving him a real and not a sham chance of retrieving him- self? A formal reception, a chilly reception, would assuredly have left Walter an object of sus- picion and mistrust in the fyes of Mr Lisle, and Lady Letitia, and Camiola; would even have perhaps sown the first seeds of doubt and distrust in the innocent heart of Janette herself. Could Romont make up his mind to do this ? As well go in for a complete exposure at once. Walter Fitzurse setting out to retrieve himself with the burden of common suspicion imposed upon him would have but a poor chance of making1 much way. Romont could not make himself the means of spoiling the unfortunate young man's last chance. He clasped Fitzurse's hand, and gave Fitzurse his good character to begin with all over again. A sudden revulsion of good spirits came to Romont's help when this trying little scene was fc.i.tly"got through, and he set talk soon going and kept it alive. Janette withdrew into the back- ground with Camiola. Georgie hung upon their skirts, pressing upon Janette a certain un- wonted tenderness of brotherly interest, and all the time acting as a sort of screen between Camiola and any possible approach from the gene- ral company. N ever does a young man look to less advantage in the eyes of the youug woman he adores, and who does not adore him, than when he is trying to prevent some rival from coining to speech of her. Camiola understood perfectly well what Georgie was about. She could have ex- plained to him the meaning of every movement he made, and every postion he fell into, and every step he took; and she thought him provokingly undignified and ridiculous. CHAPTER XXVIII.—LOVE-GHOSTS HAUNT THE CHUKCHTAKD. What was it that prompted Vinnie a day or two after this to turn into the old churchyard ? She had not passed its gate since the night of the attempt to drown herselr. She had always felt a shudder come over her when she thought of it. Yet this morning, when returning from her mother's lodging to Fitzurse House, she felt drawn and driven by a curious phantasy to go out of her way for the purpose of taking one look at the spot which was so long sacred to her love and happi- ness. She reached the gate, opened it in a half- fearful way as if something painful must happen to her should she go inside and she went iuside. She made her way to the wall that overlooked the ri ver, and stood there a moment and recalled the memories of that dreadful night. The place was ill solitude; the solitude and the sight of the water sent a chill through her. She turned away, and feeling weak and faint she sat down, just as she used to sit when she was waiting for Walter in the old days. Well, she was recovering from all that madness, she thought, and perhaps it might have been as well it she had not come into this churchyard so soon again. But she would have to see the old places and she must be able to bear it; she would nave to see him again, and to be able to bear that. Suddenly she heard the gate move, and she knew that someone had entered the churchyard. She did not look up, f he kept her eyes fixed on the ground; she wanted to see nobody if possible, not to be seen. The steps came nearer and nearer; it seemed as if they were now coming directly to her, and she heard her name spoken. The word made her tremble and suirt. She looked up, and with crimsoning checks saw that it was Walter Fitzurse that stood beside her. Oh, what memories of happy, hopeful, loving days and evenings, sunny afternoons, soft dusk, quiet, contented hours in the glow of the fireside, with Mrs Lammas at her work a little removed—what memories like these came rushing upon Vinnie as she saw him with his eyes fixed beseechingly on her! And then what recollections of bitter dis- appointment and desolation, of cruel loneliness and the agony of waiting in vain of pain, and madness and desperation, and of that ghastly midsummer night's dream; tbat momcnt on the churchyard wall, that wild look up at the sky, the plunge into the swift rushing river. Out of that river she seemed to have come a new human beuig. Youth, and hope, and love, and disap- pointment, all were buried for her in that stream. Yet to see him now, and to bo spoken to by him, seemed almost as if it could bring back the former Viunie Lammas again, and torture her with the same misplaced love and the same cruel disap- pointment. He ought not to have come near her or spoken to her, she thought; and yet, of course it must be, sooner or later, and perhaps he was rifht to get it over at once. She was determined that she would not show any weakness the past was the past for her. Mr Fitzurse 1" she said, making a desperate effort, and looking up to him with dazed eyes which hardly saw anything I am so glad you are come home again. I dion t expect to see you here." here." No, Vinnie, and I didn t expect to see you. I turned in quite by chance just to have a look at the old place. But I am very glad to see you, Vinnie." Thank you," said Vinnie, rather blankly. "I am giad that you are well, and—and—I think I had better be going." One moment, Vinnie. As we have met-we haven't met, you know for a long time—I want to know-I should like—I hope you have learned to forgive me?" He spoke in a low, pathetic, pleading tone, and looked very humble and beseeching. "I don't know that I have anything to for- give, Mr Fitzurse. I think it was all my own fault. I was very silly. I fancied you wore very really in love with me and that it would last like that for ever. I know now what nonsense that was, and how young geutlemen like to flirt as mucb as thev cartv wit' aay girl that comes in their way and I thought it all meant some- thing, and now, of coarse, I know it meant nothing." Still I want to hear you say that you forgive me. I cannot feel at rest in my heart until Ihear you say you forgive me. Oh, yes, I forgive you, if I have anything to forgive, and I cannot forgive myself quite as easilv. I hop3 wou will be happy, very happy, Mr Fitzurse—all your life." The tears in net- eyes were blurring for her the scene and the outlines of his face. I don't deserve happiness. I did you great wrong. I don't know how it was It was all very natural, and easy to under- stand," Vinnie said. You had only known me a short time, and you thought you—you cared about me and then you saw a beautiful young lady, rich, and of rank, and educated, and clever, and all that;" and, of course, you fell in love with her. You couldn't help that; and she is much better suited to you than I could ever have been— and don't mind about me. I am all right; people are very kind to me; and I hope you may be very happy and she—and please I think I must go now." "I should have been very happy, Vinnie, if I had nevar seen her. I should have been very happy with you-" i „ Oh, no, no, no," she exclaimed vehemently, don't say that. It never could have been we never were meant for one another. I think I felt that, or 1 feared it even at the time. You ought to be in society and make a figure in che world. You were made for it and born for it, and I am only a poor little girl, and I should have been a mele drag on you; and a dead-weight on you-and oh it's ever so much better as it is, and I shall soon come to be reconciled to it." A throb of keen and cowardly delight went through him. She was not yet reconciled to it that was quite clear; she loved him still.^He had come into the churchyard without the slightest expectation of seeing Vinnie, and, to say the truth, without one single thought concerning her. He had for the time shaken off all memory of her, and his chief idea in entering the churchyard was that it would bo pleasant now in the height of his success to have a look at the old place where he used to hang about in his unsuccessful day. The sudden sight of Vinnie surprised him, and roused his curiosity. Why had she come tnore ? Was it because she was still th inking of him? This was interesting. He spoke to her and from the moment of her reply he went on without any definite purpose but such as each new word or tone or gesture of hers might suggest. In a few instants he found himself playing the tender, apologetic part ot one who too late discovers that he has thrown a pearl away richer than all his tribe. Walter lived mainly for success in life, but unfortunately for him his power to play a part had astrangeiv incongruous and fantastic vein in it; and he was always turning aside to-indulge in a mood of semi-sensuous and dreamy sentimen- talism. That was the one defect which for his other defects filled him with faults. lor the moment it was nothing to him that he was the recognised and received husband of an earls granddaughter. Fate had thrown Vinnie Lammas in his way-Vinnie Lammas whom he llad tossed aside so heedlessly, and about whom half an hour ago be cared no more than he cared tor bally in Our Alley and behold he must site down by her and indulge himself in playing for a few minutes the part of the repentant lover who comes, too late, to see the full value of the love-treasure he has lost. He sot down by Vinnie and endeavoured to take her hand. He had no evil purpose, no deliberate purpose of any kind. Chance threw in his way the opportunity of a fresh and interesting sentimental sensation, and he could not for the life of him resist the temptation. Vinnie drew her hand away and got up. Yon are right," he said, rising also, and stand- ing not quite so close to her as before; "you are right, dear Vinnie, and I was wrong." She did not ask him what he meant, although she had not been offering any opinions as to the right or wrong of anything. "I was wrong in attempting to touch your hand, he said, or to sit near you, or to detain you here. We are nothing to each other any more, and should keep apart. We shall have to see each other, I suppose, but we must not meet any more for I don't call seeing each other in a crowd or in a room with other people —I don't call that meeting. You will love some one yet who will be better worth your love than I was and you will be happy. I almost wish I had not come in here to-day. But how did I know ? There is a fate in these things, I suppose. Good-bye." "Oh, Walter—Mr Fitzurse," she exclaimed, "how I wish vou bad not come here to-day Why did I come here? What brought me ? I was getting reconciled and quiet, and I thought I was able to bear anything; and I was getting over the memory of that dreadful night. Oh, why must I think of it?" What night, Vinnie? What dreadful night?' He asked this question in all sincerity. That night—oh, don't you know ? Oh, you do know-—the night—that Sunday night—when I came here and tried to drown myself-flung my- self into the ri ver-" Vinnie Vinnie I never heard-I never knew anything about this. Whit night was it? Why did you do it?" I did it because I was mad, because I was in love with you, and you didn't care about me any more It was only a little while ago, the Sunday night when you went away--went away--I mean when you went to be married to Miss Lisle. 011, I was so* miserable and so wild, I hardly knew what I was doing, and I wanted to be out of life, and I came here and flung myself into the water—and I must have been drowned only for Mr Romont ■" Only for Mr Romont! Did he save you ? Was it he?" He saved me — he is so strong and brave Sometimes I wish he hadn't saved me; but he did, and he and Mr Pilgrim brought me to the Rectory—and then every one was kind to me. And Mrs Pollen is so good—and I was getting better—and I wish, Waller Fitzurse, that you hadn't come—and why, why, why didn't you leave me alone ?" The poor girl fairly broke down in tears and hysterics. She was terrified at the thought of falling back again into her old love. She felt like some weakling lover of drink who has been doing his best to keep temperate and sees temptation suddenly thrust under his very eyes—who longs to be reformed and finds all his worser nature craving for drink, and who can only moan and shudder at the thought that if this last long enough, the spirit of evil will carry ^She safe down again, and Walter sat beside her, more boldly now. A sensation of mere triumph was filling nim. Viunie had tried to drown her- self for love of him That was magnificent ro- mance. But one cannot have everything, and there was a bitter drop in the thought that Romont had saved her, that Romont knew all about him and his love affair with Vinnie; that Vinnie had probably told it all to Romont: that Romont would remember how, the very first night Walter and he met, Romont had talked a good deal about Vinnie and her supposed lover in FitzurBeham, and had not suspected that the lover was sitting there before him. Walter began to be almost borne down by the thought of the number of things Romont knew about him, and the dread of his some day letting them all out. I hope, Vinnie," he said gravely, you did not think of confiding to Mr Romont, or to anyone else, that chapter in our history which has 'ended so strangely for both of us ? It would not be like you to do that." I never told anyone," Vinnie taid, flushing a little. I was never asked any question by any one. They are all too good and kind to think of cross-questionine me—and I didn't know till after that it was Mr Romont who saved me. I didn't know it till next day and I never spoke one word to him about it. I never even thanked him • I thought he would rather I didn't—at least' that he would think perhaps it pained me to say anything about it, and so would rather I didn't; for he wouldn't misunderstand me, I know." Walter Fitzurse was conscious of a positive pang of jealousy shooting through him, keen as a physical pain. He was made jealous by Vinnie's evident admiration for Romont. She is in love with him-they all like him—every one," was his thought. "Well Vinnie," he said, "we must part. I mustn't keep you here. I am glad we have met again 'and sorry, too, I think, but we should have to meet some time, and it is as well we should have our meeting here, in this old place —this dear old place. You do not love me any more, Vinnie. Why should you? How could you ?" "Yen shouldn't even say such words," Vinnie said, with some spirit. You are married; you have a clever and beautiful wife you couldn't think so badly of me as to suppose that I could care about yon anymore—except as a friend, of course," she added. "You will iove someone else soon," I10 said, watching her keenly why should you not ? Perhaps already-" But the girl stopped him in his speech. "011! for shame," she sobbed, breaking down «gain in tears why do you talk so ? Why can't you leave me alone ? Fancy your telline me that I am in love with some one else already Fitzurse triumphed in his heart. She loves me still," he said to himself; "that is quite clear," Good-bye, Viuuie." He held out his hand, but Vinnie ran past him and out of the gate, and was gone. Fitzurse walked complacently to the Rectory to go out for a drive with Janette, who was pining for him, and was beguiling the drear time of his short absence by discoursing to Camiola about his fitts and his virtues. Fitzurse was made more tender than ever with Janette by the thought that Vinnie Lammas was still in love with him. The knowledge gratified his self-love,and made him all the more willing to be loving to his wife. He had be it said, no evil purpose in his mind as re- garded Vinnie. It would have been of no avail so far as she was concerned; but in fact he had no such thought. He was delighted to think that Vinnie was "still in love with him, and he was pleased that he had met her and had drawn what was really an acknowledgment of this from her and that was enough for h m. He would teU Janette the whole story sometime, he thought the story a little edited in his own interest. It would come out, we may be sure, a story of hope- less passion on the one side, and heroic magnani- mity on the other. 4 Where have yotj been, child?" Mrs Pollen said, as she stood on the lawn aud Vmme came, up to her. •' I've been to see mamma., and I gave her your, message." "Yes, that's right; but what happened to you on the way back ? Did you meet any one ? o. Ob, Mrs Pullen, why do you ask ?" She was frightened. "Well, because I know the sight of your mother whom you see every night didn't throw you into a state of confusion that lasted from her house quite on to minö. You have been crying; let me louk at your eyes. Come now I'll tell you one thing you have been doing. You have been in the old churchyard." Oh, how do you know ?" 1 You have been there, and you have been crying there; lean see | that; and I know why." Mrs Pollen suspected at first nothing more than that Vinnie had gone into the churchyard to indulge in morbid fancies and unwholesome memories there. You must not go there for a long time, child until you have got over all this. It is not goo.) for you to keep the past in your recollection. 1 guessed that you had been to that place the moment I saw your face." Then she Raw another expression pass quick as a flash of light across Vinnie's face the expression of one who has something more to teU, but fears or does not know how to tell it. Oh, there is something more then ? I have not beard all ? You met someone in the churchyard—yes, of course, I see it all now. You met Walter Fitzurse there. That is what happened." Oh. Mrs Pollen, I never thought of seeing him there; I never thought of such a thing. I wonldn't have gone in there for all the world if I had any idea of his ever being there now." "No, Vinnie; I am quite sure of that. I couldn't for a moment suspect you of any wish to see him again." Oh, no, no, no," poor Vinnie murmured. "But he talked to you; and he was pathetic, wasn't he? He" spoke of the old days, and excused himself and all that; and rather implied that it was a pity things hadn't ended otherwise, and destiny and all that sort of thing—" Why, surely, Mrs Pollen," Vinnie asked with wide open and affrighted eyes, you never could have been there! You didn't hear?" Mrs Pollen smiled complacently. She was right, then, in her guesses. The rest would be easy. I wasn't there, child, and I have heard nothing whatever about what he said or you said but I have some experience of the world, and of men, and of girls and I know what that sort of man would say under the circumstances, and I think I know what he wanted to get you to say. Shall I tell you?" "No; please don't," Vinnie said, much dis- tressed. Yes, I must; to show you what sort of person he is, and how much a matter of common form all this sort of thing is. Well, let me see he honed you would be happy with someone else—didn't he ?—and said you would soon nnd someone worthier of your iove than he has been ?" Oh, but how do you know ? Regular sort of thing, my dear child might as well be got oft by heart out of a polite letter- writer, or sent about in circulars. Then he asked you if you hadn't already found someone to love and then you burst into tears and made it only too plain to him that you hadn't. Is that the whole story, Vinnie ? « Poor Vinnie had to confess with renewed shame and tears that that was the whole story that Mrs Pollen knew it all as well as if she had been a listener. Mrs Pollen had given her a sharp and wholesome lesson. All that Walter had said must be in the common trick of such men—else how could Mrs Pollen have known it?—and he was merely playing it off on her to amuse his own vanity. He is not worth thinking about," Mrs Pollen said. Don't you think he ever cared for me any time ?" Vinnie asked timidly. "Never cared, and never will care for you, or anyone in the world but himself," was Mrs Pollen's answer. She was determined to call Vinnie's still uudestroyed sense of self-respect to her rescue, even though she had to sting it into action. ( To be continued.)
FOREST OF DEAN MINER'S UNION.
FOREST OF DEAN MINER'S UNION. POLITICAL DEMONSTRATION. The annual demonstration connected with the Dean Forest Miners' Union, has this year been observed as a political jubilee and public picnic. The "picnic "took place in a field at Latimer Lodge, Littledean Hill. Mr D. Williams, presi- dent of the local Liberal association, presided. Mr E. A. RYMER moved— That this assembly of the inhabitants and electors of Dean Forest is profoundly grateful to Mr Gladstone and the Government for their untiring exertions to keep the country from a barbarous and bloodthirsty war with Russia in Europe and in Asia, and heartily thanks the Prime Minister for guiding our foreign policy into:1.n honourable channel of arbitration over the military incident on the Afghan frontier. And the meeting believes in the most solemn manner that the world would be greatly benefited by international arbitration being made compulsory by the Law of Nations in whatever grievances or perils arise needing adjudication. And this meeting strongly condemns the howl for war by the Tories, and their hypocritical attempts before the country to avoid its responsibili- ties, and their utter failure to provide any sound home and foreign policy. The resolution was seconded by the Rev. E. J. RESKELLY, supported by Mr L. J. ELSOME, and carried unanimously. Mr EDWARD COCKAYNE moved, Mr JOHN COOKSEY seconded, and the Rev. WILLIAM THOMAS supported the following resolution :— That this meeting desires to express its sincere thanks to her Majesty's Government for the great and necessary measures of reform already passed by the present Parliament, and though beset by unprincipled and unscrupulous attacks teels glad to know of and acknowledge the enfranchisement of two millions of our countrymen, and assures the Government of unabated confidence ia their future labours for the welfare of the country, and which it trusts they may accomplish. Mr BLAKE, who was received with ringing cheers, in support of the resolution, having thanked the meeting for the hearty reception, said he was an advanced Liberal-a Radical if they liked but he v. as not a Republican or Com- munist. He dealt with the land laws, and in the course of his remarks said he would endeavour to render its distribution more equitable, its acqui- sition more easy, and its possession and occupancy more justifiable. Having touched upon the ques- tion of the House of Lords, and having dealt with each of the questions contained in his ad- dress, Mr Blake resumed his seat amid loud and prolonged cheering. The resolution was then put and carried unanimously. The third resolution, moved by Mr F. Martin, seconded by Mr R. Buffery, and supported by the Rev. G. Holmes and Mr S. Brighty (London), WAS- Tha.t this meeting offers to the Bight Honourable William Ewart Gladstone its most grateful thanks for the heroic and valuable labours of a long and honour- able life intlie service of his country, blessed, we believe, by a wise Providence, for the good of mankind; and assures Mr Gladstone that whenever he may deem it prudent to retire from Parliamentary duties that; he carries with him the thanks and good wishes of his cowltrymen for his future happiness, and which this meeting believes will be to him a monument sacred, an<\ muro lasting than marble pillars could express. The fouth resolution, moved by Mr W. Evans, seconded by Mr H. Kear, and supported by the Revs W. Thomas and C. J. Reskelly, and Mr E. A. Rymer, was :— That we, at this meeting of workmen and electors of Dean Forest, desire to express our willing and kindly confidence in Mr Thomas Biake, our chosen and ac- cepted Liberal candidate for this division in the Re- formed Parliament, and that we,here assembled, agree to unite ill voting for ML- Blake at the General Elec- tion, and to work faithfully and lawfully for his safe »eturn. Mr E. A. Rymer moved, Mr John Wilmott seconded, and Mr Isaac Sterry supported the following resolution :— That we, the Forest miners, desire to raise a per- manent relief fund to be self-supporting for sickness, accidents, permanent injury, and for widows and orphans at every colliery, to abolish the poverty and misery in our homes arising from mining calamities and contingencies, and that we form a strong, intelli- gent representative committee of miners anù local gentlemen, to draw up rules and constitution, and to apply money, already banked for 21 years, for raising thh necessary fund. A vote of thanks to the chairman terminated the meeting, which had lasted five hours, the greatest order prevailing among the seven or eight thousand persons who were present. The speakers then adjourned to the Royal Forester Hotel and dined, Mr Blake presiding.
JUDGMENT IN THE LLANiiLLY…
JUDGMENT IN THE LLANiiLLY TIN-PLATE CASE. In the High Court of Justice, Chancery Di vi- sion, on Monday (before Mr Justice Kay), the hearing of the action of Turnock v. Sartoris, which stood adjourned from the 19th ult, was resumed, when his Lordship stated that he was satisfied there was a certain amouut of damage done in the manufacture of tin plates by reason of the salt in the water, and he should, therefore, direct that there be an inquiry, whether, or if any, what damage was done to the manufacture of these tin plates by the plaintiff by reason of the impurity of the water or by salt or other impurities in the water, sent down to the plaintiff's works between the months of May, 1333, and June, 1884 also that /the same inquiry be made as to the interval between February 21st, 1881, and the 23rd June, 1882. As to quantity, he should direct an inquiry whether the plaintiff had suffered any and what damage by reason of the quantity of water sent since 21st February, 1881, being less than was necessary for the purposes of his business, and less than 110,000 gallons a day. In making that inquiry he entirely excluded from it any damage to be recovered by plaintiff from the bursting of the pipes, and the necessary delay in repairing them. Also that there should be no allowance for the less speed in which the water passed when plaintiff took it him- self direct to the works without allowing it to go into the reservoir. The costs of both inquiries he would reserve, but he would give the plaintiff the costs of the action up to the hearing, and would reserve the costs from that time. He would further direct that in the inquiries as to the damage plaintiff had sustained by reason of the deficient quantity of water, regard to be bad to the act of plaintiff in diverting the water to his works before it reached his reservoir as to any diminution in the quantity by reason of such diversion.
TREDEGAR IRON AND COAL COMPANY,…
TREDEGAR IRON AND COAL COMPANY, LIMITED. ANNUAL MEETING. The 12th annual meeting of the Tredegar Iron and Coal Company, Limited, was held at the London Offices, Queen-street, last week, Mr B. Whitworth, M.P., chairman of the board of directors, presiding. The gross profits for the year were JE.49,486 9s 5d, leaving, after paying interest on loans, a nett profit of JSS6,895 13s lid. £3,613 Is 6d of capital expenditure during the year was written off, and a balance of £6,857 9s 5d was carried forward to next year. The balance brought forward from last year was £7 ,67417s lOd. This left a sum of j644,570 10s lid, which was apportioned as follows:—Dividend declared, 3 per cent., and £5,000 carried forward to the re- serve fund. This result is highly satisfactory, and redounds to the credit of the general manager, Mr James Colquhoun.
[No title]
or-- FIRST PRIZE FOR LAUNDRY WORK. T e Laundress who won the first prize in the competition for the best got up linen at the Torquay Industrial Exhibition, used Reckitt's Paris Blue a.nd Starch. 12151 Tr.uss.—Merrick's Patent Suspension no steel springs no hard pads Pamphlet, with testimonials, post free.—Keevil, Chemist,. Clifton, Bristol. 11112
THE CHILDREN'S HOUR.I ----,-----
THE CHILDREN'S HOUR. COLUMN FOR GIRLS AND BOYS. BY MAGGIE SYMINGTON. Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupation, That is known as the Children's Hour. L01ifl (ellõ w. MORE ABOUT THE CAMP—IT3 UNIVERSALITY—GEN. GORDON'3 OWN IDEA—THU DUTY OF ENGLISH SCHOOL BOYS—THE BOYS 01? ETON AND MARL- BOROUGH — COLLECTING CARDS — A SOLDIERLY SPARROW—THB WOOLWJCH GUN—THE FATE OF THE LITTLE ONES—A LITTLE GIRL'S LETTER—NEST IN A MUSHROOM HOUSE — ROBIN TAMING- QUARRELSOME ROBINS—H.S.C. PRIZE AWARD— THE SCHOOLMISTRESS S CRITICISM—A HELPFUL CHARITY—DOLL FOR SICK CHILDREN—ACROSTICS. Smce I chatted to you about it a fortnight ago, the Gordon Boys' Camp is taking more solid form, and will become, I trust, far the most suitable and successful of the suggested memorials to General Gordon. A large and influential meet- ing was held in London last week to consider the ways and means of establishing it, at which many things were said that will iuterest you, I am sure. For instance, the Lord Mayor said that he cordially endorsed the objects the meeting had in view, and the necessity for some such means of coverting into useful members of society the waifs and strays of large towns, and of the East end of London. And Lord Napier said, later, that the great merit of the proposal was that it would take boys from all the charitable institu- tions of the country at the ages when they wanted to get rid of them, and keep them under strict discipline and training from 15 to 19, the period of greatest danger in the life of youth, making all who were fit, and desired to serve, soldiers, and turning the rest into useful and in- dustrious citizens. So, you see, all the towns in the kingdom may benetit by it; and in helping to establish the camp, we are each trying to benefit the neglected lads of our own neighbourhood, 2.S well as thostof London. General Higginson said that previous to leaving England, General Gordon had an interview with Lcrd Tennyson, and in talking over his favourite subject of the education of friandless boys, he said "I wish, Mr Tennyson, you would do some- thing for our young soldiers." He pointed out the advantage it would be to the rank and file of the army, that lads brought up and trained in his own well-known principles should be intro- duced gradually into the ranks of the army, so that the whole rank and file might be leavened with a powerful stimulant in favour of everything pure and good. The Dean of Westminster said that he hoped the scheme would meet with hearty and zealous support, not only from the rich, but also from the poor, and not least of all from hundreds and thousands of English schoolboys, who, prizing their own school life, should do something to extend similar ad vantages to their poorer brothers." Lord Shaftesbury said that the scheme is an inspiration in itself, and needs no argument to recommend it. The Eton Boys have set a famous example by subscribing £65 already, and the Marlborough boys have subscribed £20. Surely, my boys, and girls too, will do something: not much, perhaps, but still something! I must just quote a few words more called forth by this meeting, and then I have done Nothing was nearer to General Gordon's heart than the welfare of destitute and outcast boys, Wherever he went he sought them out and befriended them. He loved the suffering Africans, but he loved the helpless outcasts of his own country still more. There are no more, touching and beautiful passages in the story of his noble life than the record of what he did for children of all varieties of the street Arab, and mud-lark species." I shall be glad if all of you who are intending to undertake a penny subscription will send word to me, giving your name and address in full (on a post card, if you like) that I may furnish you with a collecting card. We do not generally credit little wild birds with soldierly instincts, and yet the sparrow who, we are told, a few weeks ago built A NEST IN A GUN must have been gifted with something of the kind. At Woolwich the time of day is announced to the garrison and neighbourhood by firing a blank charge of powder from » 9-pouader bronze gun. This is done twice every day, at one p.m., and at 9.30 p.m. This gun is mounted in the gun park, on a wooden travelling carriage, which isfitted with two axle-tree boxes, each about 1ft. square by 6in. deep, with the inside divided intoseveral compart- ments. This box is designed to carry case-shot and cartridges when the gun is used in action, The carriage is an old one, and the light axle-tree box has a small hole in one of its sides. One day, early in last month, the gunner, on firing the one o'clock gun, observed a sparrow flying out of this hole, and an examination of the box showed that it contained a sparrow's nest with fiva eggs. The box was carefully padlocked, so as to guard the nest from inquisitive boys, but the gun was fired twice a day as usual, and on the 16th of May five little sparrows made their appearance. The mother sparrow, both when sitting on her eggs, and afterwards when covering her young, usuaily remained in her nest while the gun was being, loaded and fired. For awhile the young birds all did well, but on the 23rd two were found dead in their nest; it is supposed that they died of cou- cussion of the brain, caused by the noise of the gun when it was fired. A third, when half- fiedged, was unfortunately worried by a puppy, but the other two survived, and are now able to fly. The other day I found A LETTER FROM A LITTLE GIRL. in one of- the most conspicuous columns of the Times. How proud she must have been to see .it there. It is dated June 12th, and this is what she says :— :-5ir,-A robin a few days ago built its nest in our mushroom house and laid one egg. For two mornings, the door being shut, the robin left an egg on the gravel close to the outside of the door, the gardener who found it putting it each time into the nest, Care was then taken to leave the door open, and the robin lias continued laying in the same nest, and is now sitting on its eggs. I am sure other children will be interested in the above if you can find room for this letter.—DAISY HAMILTON, Skene House, Aberdeen. Someone who has tried the plan, 1 suppose, and found it answer, gives the following instructions HOW TO TAME ROBINS. Not to tame them and keep the poor little things shut up in cages, but to so far tame them that they will fly on to your hand and peck crumbs out of it. I hope some of you will try it, and let me know how you succeed. This lady says: "There is no way a robin can be so quickly tamed as when you are gardening, one being sure to be close by wherever the ground is newly-turned up. The plan which I have found most successful is this: Scatter some crumbs near you, keeping to the same place for a few days after that, the moment you arrive a robin is sure to appear. Next step, take off your glove, lay it on the ground with crumbs on it; the robin will readily take them. When accus- tomed to that, put the glove on your hand, placing the crumbs on it. It is better to lay your hand on the ground for a few times but you must not continue to feed in this manner, only give the crumbs as you stand with hand held out. At first the bird will alight on your hand, and flyaway with a crumb as if it had barely escaped with life but this timidity does not last long. After a very short pause you may walk as fast as you please,.and it will not fly off your hand till fully satisfied. The only time of the year the robin seems to become wild is in the spring, when it is building its next. As soon as the young birds make their appearance, it is more, eager than ever to pick up its crumbs, and will fly to and fro from the hand feeding them. I have seen a robin, when the young birds were old enough, bring them up, as if to introduce its family, and feed them all round from my hand. Truth obliges me to say that robins have one one failing, they are quarrelsome, for which reason it is better only to tame one at a time. A robin is once thoroughly tame will remain so, even if not fed for two or three months." THE HOUR SEWING CIRCLE. My little needle-women have acquitted them- selves admirably this month as usual. Nine little night dresses have reached me in competition for the prize, the first four of which are very highly praised by the little school-mistress. Her order of merit, and her criticism of the needlework, are as follow:— 1. Prize garment. The needlework jof this is really exquisite, and I have no hesitation in placing it first, although the maker of it is nearly three years older than the next competitor. 2. A well-cut and well-made gown, kept beau- tifully clean in the working, but the needle- work is much inferior to No. 1-t 3. Is a little superior as a garment to No. 2, but the worker is a year and a half older, and so she is placed third. It is a very prettily made garment, the thorn-stitching being parti- cularly well done. There is a little mistake in the wrists, the button should have been put on the under side. 4. A well-made gown, only slightly inferior to the others, but the maker is 14 years old. 5. This is a capital gown, but it is such a pity to have used such heavy calico for such a tiny garment it spoils the appearance of the work, which has not been kept as clean as it ought to have been. The crocheted trimming is very neat and good, and deserves especial com- mendation. 6, 7, and 8. The pattern provided was a little larger than the one these little workers have used, and I think they would have found it easier to work from. I am sura they have found it difficult in putting so tiny a garment together. Some parts of the plain sewing are very well done, especially the hemming of the bottoms of 6 and 8, I hope these little workers will persevere, for it is a great thing to be good needlewomen. 9. This is a large and rather untidily made garment, loose ends of cotton sticking out here and there are a great eyesore; and with such nice soft calico surely better and cleaner work might have been put into it. I should not give it up if I were this little worker, but try again, aud yet again, that is the way to succeed. Competitors:—1, Cecy Lightfoot (Prize), the Vicarage, Wellingborough 2, Constance Butterfield 3, Barbara J. Thwaits; i 4, Emma Linnell; 5, Gertrude Sanderson; 6, Jeanie Pickering; 7, Mayflower; 8, Helen Pick- lering; 9, F. M. Hadfleld. I am very grateful to the mother of one of my little members of the H.S.C., who has written in the following kind manner :—" These tiny things are more trouble than larger ones would be. Per- haps some time you may suggsst a set of baby clothes. Many poor people would be glad of them. In these days of machinery so few girls try to work well, that I feel you are doing inuch good, and wish more would join the H.S.C." I want the opinion of all members of the H.S.C. about this kind suggestion, for I think we might carry it out in a way that would make a beautiful and helpful charity. If -eal baby- clothes were to form our next set of competitive garments we might fill a box that could be Unt for a month to poor and respectable women who have little new babies to provide for, always returning it to me at the end of the month. When you send me your next competitive work (the Night-dress bag) I should like each of you to give me your opinion on this subject. This would certainly be mure useful even than making dolls' clothes, but I want to know whether you would like it as weil. I should consider it my especial duty to find out ail about each little baby who wore the clothes, and tell you its story. I want to use one set of the doll's clothes already on hand, to dress a doll to lend out to poor little sick girls who have no doll of their own. Will the maker of No. 9 Night-dress allow me to keep it far this purpose, or does she prefer to have it sent back to her ? This is the largest of the night-dresses, and would just fit the doll chosen. Before the summer is quite ended I still hope to visit the Orphanage at Banstead, aud make the acquaintance of some of the happy little girl- mothers of some of our last year's baby dolls. THE LETTER BOX. ECHO says I think the Hour gets nicer every week, it is always sc entertaining and so instructive." This is pleasant reading—for me And she asks me half-a-dozen questions which I will do my best to answer. In the first place she has been au acrostic guesser ever since she was twelve, and now she is fifteen, and she does so want a prize. I certainly would give her one, if I could, but it has to be earned and zcon I don't know any other way for it to be obtained. I shall have quite as much pleasure in Riving Echo a prize as she will have in receiving it, when these condi- tions have been fulfilled. She would not value it without. I don't mind receiving the answers to acrostics on postcards in the least; clear writing is the thing, and that Echo's always is. By the way, one of her questions is for my opinion about the same handwriting. It fulfils the first requisite of a good hand, it is clear and easy to read, and I am always glad to see it on that account, but it just a little wanting m style. I should advise her to try and write a little larger, and more freely it will improve; I am sure.—W. H. D. sends me a story which he wants me to put in the Hour, but, alas! I have no room for the acrostic this week, so I fear I cannot make a place tor his Roman noble." While we are waiting for space he might fill up his time in studying the spelling- book, and the use of capitals. An author should be well up in these sort of things. ACROSTIC COMPETITION. ANSWER TO PRJZR ACROSTIC. No. 2. A nania S IX. Acts 17 < B en 0 1. Cbron, XXIV., 26,27 I S au L Acts VII, 58, & VIII.,1 A bedneg O Daniel III,, 23 L eshe M Joshua XIX., 47 O n O Neheminh VI., 2 M • idia N Exodus II., 15 M. idia N Exodus II., 15 The references are given by two of the competitors, H. S. G. and Kitty. Answered correctly by C. Gilbert, Constance Butterfielr), H S.G., Kitty, AnnieG. Williams, Gloxinia, A. and B., William, T. Thwaits, Die Studentin, David A. Burnham, Daisy, and Echo. Wrong in one light: Cop, Edith M. Hodgson, Gertrude M. Sanderson. In two lights: Marian Westmoreland, Mary I.F. Hutch- inson. Mary Bowstead has correctly answered No. 1 Acrostic. No. 4. Prize Acrostic will be given next week. AUNT MAGGIE. Address all communications— AUNT MAGGIE (Symington), HUiJstanton, St. Edmunds.
COLLIERS MASS MEETING AT MOUNTAIN…
COLLIERS MASS MEETING AT MOUNTAIN ASH. MABON'S CANDIDATURE. A mass meeting of the workmen employed at Messrs Nixon's Navigation Collieries was held on Monday, about 700 colliers being present. The proceedings related largely to the the trans- actions of the Monmouthshire and South Wales Joint'Sliding Scale Committee at Cardiff on Saturday in reference to questions affecting the locality. A resolution was passed to the effect p that the meeting regretted to hear the opinion of the Sliding Scale Committee in reference to the question put before them as to timber and deductions made on account of shale, &c., and although they ha.d no desire to do anything in contraventiou of the upinion of that committee, they earnestly believed that that oommittee would not, through any agreement, desire to im- pose on tnem customs appertaining- to the ques- tions which are not observed at any of the other associated collieries. Consequently, they specially requested the committee to put the -whole matter before Mr W. T. Lewis when lie came there with Mr Abraham to investigate the question at issue, with a view of bringing it t:) an amicable settle- ment, inasmuch as it was not satisfactory to them in the present form.—Mr W. Abraham (Mabon) was called upon to address the meeting, and in the course of his speech he referred particularly to the desirability of amendments in the labour laws. A resolution was afterwards moved and carried, supporting Mr Abraham as the labour candidate for the Rhondda.
PAUPER BURIAL AT CARMARTHEN.
PAUPER BURIAL AT CARMARTHEN. EXTRAORDINARY DELAY. At the Carmarthen Board of Guardians on Saturday, Mr J. Hughes, F.R.C.S., presiding, the Master reported that an inmate of the house, named Eliza Vavies, aged 58, died on the previous Saturday. She was to have been buried in St. David's Churchyard, in her husband's grave, but on Wednesday evening the undertaker was told that the Rev. T. R. Walters objected to the burial, and two days' notice had then to be given for the woman to be buried at the ceme- tery.—The Rev. D. Williams (Peterwell) said it might not be generally known that the number of burials at St. David's was limited to three in each fortnight, and ir, was entirely in the discre- tion of the incumbent whether he allowed a burial there or not.—Mr J. Williams (vice-chairman) thought the undertaker should be instructed to get deceased paupers buried as soon as possible, —The Chairman said these instructions should be given to the master.—The Master said the present case was the only delay which had taken place in his time.
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RETURN OF THE DUKE OF CONNAUGHT. The Duko and Duchess of Conn aught and suite left Calais on Sunday at 1.20 p.m., by the special steamer Samphire, arriving at the Admiralty Pier, Doyer, at 3. They were received by the Hon. P. B. Fielding, general commanding the south-eastern district, aud staff, and Captain Sir Thomas Bruce, R.N., Admiralty superinten- dent, who escorted their Royal Highnesses to the special train, which left at 3.10 for Charing- cross. The pier was densely crowded with spec- tators. The Middlesex Regiment, under Captain Blake, and the Royal Irish Militia, under Lieu- tenant Packhead, formed a guard of honour. Both the Duke and Duchess looked very well. Salutes were fired from the Castle and heights. They reached London about five o clock. The Prince and Princess of Wales and their daughters, the Duke of Edinburgh, the Duke of Cambridge, Prince Edward of Saxe- Weimar, the Duchess of Teck, and a number of official personages were waiting to receive their royal highnesses
I NATIONAL EISTEDDFOD AT ABERDARE.
NATIONAL EISTEDDFOD AT ABERDARE. The various poramittees are pressing vigorously forward with their work. The executive, consider- ing the amount of work to be done, accepted the services of the Rev. R. Turbervill as honorary secretary, and appointed Mr T Howells (Hywel Cyncn) as an additional secretary and co-operate with Mr J. R. Lewis. The subscriptions have flo wed in freely f rom the commencement,the amount now being £ 700, independent of the guarantee fund.The pavilion .will be the largest and strongest ever erected in South Wales. Air John Thomas (Pencerd Gwalia), harpist to the Queen, has been appointed adjudicator in music, and will also take part in the concerts. Mr J. H. Turpin, of London, has been appointed one of the adjudica- tors in music; and Mr J. W. Jarrett Roberts, in musical composition and examinations.
----TRINITY HOUSE CORPORA…
TRINITY HOUSE CORPORA TION. The annual banquet of Trinity House Corpora- tion on Saturday night was attended by the Duke of Edinburgh (presiding), the Prince of Wales, Prince George of Wales, the Duke of Cambridge, Earl Derby, Earl Northbrook, Sir W. Harcourt, I Mr W. H. Smith, Sir Stafford Northcote, &c. Lord Northbrook, in responding for the Navy, testified to the valuable assistance rendered by shipowners to the Admiralty at times of pressure. The Duke of Edinburgh proposed Her Majesty's Ministers," and said if the Queen's advisers had to give place to another Government he should sincerely regret Lord Northbrook's departure from the Admiralty. Sir W. Harcourt responded for the Ministers.
BRECONSHIRE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY.
BRECONSHIRE AGRICUL- TURAL SOCIETY. On Friday it was unanimously resolved at a meeting of the Breconshire Agricultural Society, specially convened, that the Herefordshire Agri- cultural Society be invited to hold their annual exhibition at Brecon in 1886, and a committee was appointed to wait upon the council of the society at Monmouth on the 23rd inst. The society are in possession of a suitable site, and are in a position to guarantee the JB250 required by the Hereford Society, the subscriptions alcne last year amounting to :8262. II
MURDER OF A SCOTCH GAMEKEEPER.
MURDER OF A SCOTCH GAMEKEEPER. An Inverness telegram reports that the police have arrested Donald Macdonald, a shepherd, on the charge of being concerned in the death of Alexander Macdonald, gamekeeper. The men quarrelled while returning from market at Fort Augustus, on Monday, both being under the influence of drink. The body of Alexander Macdonald was found on Thursday in the river Tarff.
FIRE AT A LONDON RAILWAY STATION.
FIRE AT A LONDON RAILWAY STATION. Shortly after nine o c'ock on Sunday night, a fire broke out at the back of the Holborn Viaduct Station, on the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway. The booking-office of the station and I the premises adjoining were much danxasfed, but the fire was got under in about 20 -ninat-es.
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Dymunir iJn gobebwyr Cymreig gyfeino eu goheb- iaethau, llyfrau i'w hadolygu, &c., fel y canlyn: Dafydd Moraanwg, Morganwg House, Llantwit- street, Cardiff.
. AT EIN GOHEBWYR.
AT EIN GOHEBWYR. "Bydded."—Nid yw'r gynghanedd yn?gywir yn yr engiyn hwn. Gwallus yvv— Treiddiol air dwyfol odiaeth." Buasai yn well fe! hyn— Treiddiol air dwyfol Dofydd. Gwallus liefyd yw- I ogor fawrblyg arfaeth." I tier or mawrblyg eigion, fuasai yn gyiighanedd gywir. "Y Nt>s."—le, nos dyv/yll iawn, os ywmor dywyli aT llinellau hyn. Efrydwch y cynghan- eddion. "Dymuniad am lyvydd yr Efengyl."—Ym- ddengys hwn wedi newid ychydig arno. "Uffern."—Twyll odl "annuw" a distryw." "Cymal."—Nid yw mor ystwyth ag y dymunid iddo rod, eto y ruae yn gymal cywir. "Bereu Oes."—Da diolch. "Awr Olaf Oes."—Da etto. "Y Wraig Geintachlyd."—Ymddengys. "Y Ddeilen."—Athronyddol. Pontbren y Gelli."—Darlun rhagoroL Y Byd Tuhwnt i'r Bedd."—Darn sylweddoLa da iawn. Yegol Trewilliam."—Eithaf dessrifiad. "Boreu Haf.Pennillion tiysion, llithrig, a naturiol iawn. Diolch am danynr. "Gwlad Canaan."—Trueni na fyddai yr awdwl" wedi meistroli y cyughaneddion, fel ag i gael geiriau priodol i gyfleu ei feddwl mewa cyng- hanedd. Pwy fedr deall beth yw— Ei theml a'i da waith ymla ?"
BARDDONIAETH.
BARDDONIAETH. YR ARDD. Wele yr-ardd yn blaen-darddu,—a dweyd Fod haf yn dynesu.; Pob blod'yn, brigvn, o'i bra Oil anwyd er Hawenu. Ca.ntref Buallt. GWILYM CARCWM.
Y FELLTEN.
Y FELLTEN. Y fellten, elfen oleufyw,—erfawr Gynhyrtiad digyfryw, A fflach odiaeth gwefr fflwch ydyw, Olwyn dan ei ddylanwad yw. lOAN EBYRI.
Y CWMWL GOLEU.
Y CWMWL GOLEU. 0 'r iawnlun fel arianlaw—y gwelaf GWlnwl goleu, distaw; Yn y nef y mae'n nofiaw, Yn loew'i drem, ar ael draw. Cantref Buallt. GWILYH CARCWM.
Y GLOWR.
Y GLOWR. Dirfawr rwygydd dae"rfyd-ba.r eglar Beryglon bob mynyd Deheuig lowr diwyd Sy'n wych borth i fasnach byd. Manwl dan wraidd y mvnydd,—a'i orchwyi Yw cyrchu glo beunydd Ei lafur ef, a'r celf ryda, I gludo nawdd i'r gwledydd. ELIANTDD.
Y BRADWR.—(B0DDCGOL.)
Y BRADWR.—(B0DDCGOL.) Fel brawd a molawd melus,—ar redeg Y bradwr peryglus Anata S, gwen ei wefus, A gwaeaa'ch hedd gyda chus. Gyda chus hwylus e hola—i'ch llwydd A'ch Haw a ysgydwa Ac yna yn nes, gynes gwna Daenu gwen, gwed'yn gwana. Gwana i dwyll a gweu ei dad,—lienSuddas, Pen swyddog perffaith-frad; Tra ei fron bentyra frad, Llogir i hedd y ilygad. LIJgad craff seraff siriol—ac osgo, A gwasgiad dengarol, Ond rywfodd fe gafodd gol Dyfais a chrafanc diafol. Diafol hudol ydi-ei enaid, A'i fynwes oil drwyddi; Tra teimlad llygad yn lli', Gwen yn dwyn gwenwya dani. Dani y eel hi; ° clyw !—ei felldith A'i falldod e'n seith-fyw Ac os tydi fyni fyw, Rbed o'i rwyd,—bradwr ydyw UN A'I CROGAI ONt £ AI •
YR AMAETHWR.
YR AMAETHWR. 0, wel, yr Amaethwr yw testyn y gaa, Bod euwog trwy ei alwedig.ieth Mae'n berson corfforol, cyhyrog a glan, A phwysig ar lwyfsn bc-dolaet-h; Mae'n arwr yn llanw swydd uchel a drud, Y gyntaf a gafwyd 'r ol pechu Mae'n gyfrwng i gynal trigolion y byd, Trwy gymorth Rbagluniaeth yn gwenu. difalch ei rodiad, eyffredin ei wisg, Er hyny yn drefnus a gwaddus, Nid ydyw yn dduethawr yn gwybod pob dysg, Ond gwyr ei gelfyddyd yn gampus; Mae llawer o fodau yn drymach eu cwd, A thrigo mewn gwell sefyllfaoedd, Holl ehv yr hwsmon yw'r daoedd a'r cnwd,; 1 'Nol talu y rhenti a'r trethoedd. Dyn diwyd a gweithgar o foreu hyd hwyr, '• Abertha ei g-orff a'i gysuron Fe dretha ei a.mser a'i feddwl yn llwyr Wrth drin ei holl feusydd Y11 ffyddlon Mae'n ddoeth a gofalus trwy ddeddf f&wr ei Naf I noddi ei eiddo rhag anaf, Darpara'n y gauaf ar gyfer yr haf, A'r hafddydd ar gyfer y gauaf. Mae'n difa yr eithin, y gwreiddiau a'r chwyn, Mae'n cloddio a sychu'r gwlyb-diroedd; Mae'n arddu a llyfnu ei diroedd 'rol hyn, A gwrtaith a rydd i'w crombiloedd Mae'n gwneud ydiffaethwch yn fras ac yn hardd, A chodi y glaswellt a'r tfrwythau Mae'n troi yr anialwch yn ffrwythlon fel gardd, Gan esgor ar bob math o lysiau. Rhydd ymborth i'r d da ear a had yn ei chol, Mae ganddo ffydd gcef yn neddf natur, Mae'n dysgwyl i'r ddaear i roddi yn ol Gnwd addas o'r aberth a'r llafar; Ceir ef ambell flwyddyn yn elwa yn dda, A'i dir yn fane teilwng i'w foli Ond wed'yn daw blwyddyn yr anffawd a't pla, Caiff brofiad yr enill a'r cholli. Mae'n deebreu ei orchwyl yn moreu ei oes, A gweithia hyd adeg penwyni: Mae'n cwrddyd yn fynych a thrallod a chroes, Er hyny nid yw'n digalom Mae'n ddedwydd mewn henaint wrth edrych yn ol Ar fywyd fu'n 11 awn o rinweddau; Mae'n gadael y ddaiar yn well ar ei ol Wrth sangu ar fyd y sylweddau. Brithdir Mawr. DERWLWTN,
DYDDIAU FY MABOED.
DYDDIAU FY MABOED. 0, ddyddiau fy maboed hyfrydwch i gyd Yw meddwl mor ddedwydd y treuliais fy myd, Pan nad oedd gofidiau, na phryder, na brath Wnai friwio fy mouwes, na thebygo'r fath. Ni wyddwn pryd hwnw am bryder na phoen, Ond beunydd chwareuwn a phranciwn fel oen; Mewn hwyl ymbleserwn o foreu hyd hwyr, A'm bywyd mewn nwyfiant a dreuliwn yn liwyr. 0, fel yr awyddwn am fod yn ddyn mawr, (Gwyn fyd na fuaswn yn fychan hyd 'nawr,) Pob moethau a phleser addaw wn ya nglyn Ond imi gael unwaith i ddyfod yn ddyn. Meddyliwn pryd hwnw cael dyfod yn dew, A'm cernau porthia.uus yn llwythog o flew; Dywedwn yn wastad, Pan ddeuat yn fawr, Mi wnaf rymusderau, gorchfygaf pub cawr." > Ymffrosti wn heb ddiwedd, "Pan ddeuaf yn ddyn' ('Roedd pobpeth ar unwaith a hyny yn nglyn)* "Caf wneyd fel y mynaf, ac, 0, gwyn fy myd, Ni hidiaf pryd hwnw am neb yn y byd. Caf fyned pryd hwnw yn nnol am greddf, A gadael hen aelwyd fy rhiaint a'i deddf, Heb ofni i'r wialen i ddod ar fy nghefn Os dygwydd i'm fyned ar droion o drefn." Fel yua y porthwn fy huna.n pryd hyn, A'r cyfnod wyf ynddo a welwn yn wyn: Ond, druan o honwyf, newidiodd yn dost, Daeth chwerwder i'm cwpan yn dâl am y gost. Can iached ac iechyd yr oeddwn, dim poen Mewn aelod, a chwareu yn llanw fy nghroen; Dim blinder un amser, na llesgedd, na nych, A'm gruddiau o ddagrau gofidiau yn sych. Yn nghwmni fy mrodyr, yn llawen ac iach, A hwythau'm chwiorydd chwareuwn dyn bach Gwnaem bwffian, a phwffian, a phwffian heb daw, Mewn fuss anghyffredin ar hindda a'r gwlaw. Bryd arail y byddem (rhai rhyfedd yw plant) Yn tyru i chwareu 4 cheryg y nant; 'Roedd genom ni ddefaid, pob lliw a phob Han, Ac enwau priodol i gael ar bob un. 'Roedd yno fugeiliaid ardderchog, a chwn, A ninau yn cyfarth, 0, ryfedd y swn; A chwareu pysgota, a dala y dwfr, 'Doedd yno un fonwes yn teimlo yn llwfr. Hen aelwyd fy maboed mae'm monwes at hon Yn berwi o gariad; yn brudd aeth fy mron, Wrth feddwl am dani; O nefol fwynhad Oedd gwenau serchoglawn fy mam a fy nhad. Ni thybiais pryd hwnw fod gwasgar i fod Ar aelwyd fy rhiaint; ond troi wnaeth y rhod A phob peth i aros yn berffaith fwynhad I'r plant yn dragwyddol ar aelwyd eu tad. Cydfwyta, cydchwareu, cydrodio a wnaem, Cydgodi, cydgysgu yn dawel a gaem; Cydfyned i'r ysgol yn ddyddiol drachefn, 'Doedd eisieu pryd hwnw ddysgawdwr na threfn. Cydfyn'd i'r addoldy yn wylaidd y Sul, Cyd-ddysgu cael rhodio y llwybr sydd gul £ Gobeithiaf caf eto, rhyw adeg a ddaw, Gydfyned i'r nefoedd yn deulu heb fraw. Ond, rbyfedd, diangodd y cyfnod i ffwrdd, Daeth byd a'i ofidiau yn gynar i'm cwrdd; Gwasgarwyd y teiilu, daeth pob peth yn gross I'r hyn a feddyliais yn moreu fy oes. Coleg Dewi Sant. D. LLKDROD DAVIES.
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ADVICE TO MOTHERS !—Are you broken in your rest by a sick child suffering from the pains of cutting teeth ? Go at once to a chemist and get a bottle of Mrs WINSLOW'S SOOTHING SYRUP. It will relieve the poor sufferer immediately. It is perfectly harmless, and pleasant to taste it produces natural quiet sleep by relieving the child froui pain, and tb« little cherub awakes as right as a button." It soothe-the child, it softens the gums, allays all pain, relieves wind, regulates the bowels, and is the best- known remedy for ^dysentery and diarrhosa, -whether arising from teething or other cause* Mrs Winslow's Soothing Syrup is suld by me iic'ne d* der< every- where at Is IH per b"ttle.
YANKEE YARNS.
YANKEE YARNS. MISTAKEN IDENTITY. A man who had evidently just arrived by the train walked into an Austin boarding house, and asked.: "I s Day in?" What day sah ?" asked the porter. What do I know about him ? Do I look like a detective. If Day ain't in, tell Week to step out herc; What week do you refer to, sab?" Oh, last week, or week before Christmas Do you take me for a walking almanac 7 Who rut/B this shebang, anyhow ?" "'De Widow Fiapjack, sah. ""TV ell, then, you tell her to take down her sig.D. I read on the sign out there, Boarding by Day or Week,' and now It seems that both of 'em h;we lit out. That sign is put up there to deceive the travelling public," and he picked up his g-ripsack and swung himself on board of a street car. I TRIALS OF A BOSTON TRAMP. "I came here," be explained to the police I judge, "to hang out a sign of' I am blind,' but 1 | had scarcely got off the train -when I found two chaps working the racket. Too much blindness arouses public suspicion." Was that the only opening?" No, sir. I started out to tie my head and arm up, and work the Help this poor man who was hurt in a railroad accident,' but the two beet corners in the town were occupied. One fellow had been crushed by "■•■a saw log, and the other had been terribly burned while rescuing a baby." "Pity the poor fire sufferers," sighed his honour. About the only thing left," continued the man, was to be born deaf and dumb but while I was getting a placard printed by a grocer's I clerk, the owner of the store came in and said he had just seen two such chaps walked to the station. Then it was either go to work or come up here and be sent up." And you couldn't work ?" Well, I was wearing a placard reading, This man would work «or twenty-five cents a-day but for his poor health,' when the officer collared me. Guess you will have to make an opening for me somewhere." His honour gave him a placard reading :— This unfortunate person has been elevated for two months." "THE UNCLE'S REVENGE. Even as one star differeth from another in glory, so does one genius differ from another. Some men kave a natural born talent for not telling the truth. Others have a wonderful capacity to bold beer, while another has the gift of talking people out of their money. Fritz Klemme, a student at the University of Berlin, united both of these qualifications in his own person. There seemed to be no latitude or longitude to the quantity of beer that converted his tnroat into a miniature Niagara. He had very few resources of his own, but he could talk money out of a tax collector. On one occasion he was come up with. Fritz had au uncle, a little,fat, old man, who sold butter and cheese and used bad grammar in his con- versation. As the Germans are almostcriminally fond of cheese, Fritz's uncle, whose name was Schmidt, did a flourishing business, and his bank account was big enough to make an editor sick to think of it. Fritz Klemme, among his other depraved habits, was also given to humour. When sur- rounded by his boon companions on the outside, with five or six gallons of beer sloshing around on the inside, he would get off all manner of jokes at the expense of his fat old uncle, whose recklessness in mixing up the nouns, verbs, and other parts of speech seemed to be particularly funny to bis dissipated nephew. As is generally the case, some kmdhearted mutual friend went to Fritz's uncle andgave him all the sickening details, making it out ten times worse than it was. The old man did not get angry. He smiled quietly, and patted his pocket book with his fat hand, and smiled as happily as if his nephew had said something complementary about him. What he thought about his nephew be did not com- municate to anybody, but the next time that the sarcastical nephew applied for a pecuniary remedy for his financial sufferings, his uncle quietly re- fused to write out a prescription. This made Fritz sicker than before, but his uncle still refused to subscribe. He said be had quit practicing medicine. Time and again did Fritz apply for relief, but in vain. He made repeated attempts to persuade his uncle to shell out, but the old man refused to do so. After a while the financial embarrassments of the student became very numerous and pressing, and he determined to make one more effort to soften his hard-hearted uncle. He called on him, and, in a lamentable voice, said :— My dear uncle, for some unkno wn reason, yon have been neglecting me very much. of late. Just now I am in a dreadful tight place. Can't you let me have fifty marks ?" Certainly I can," replied the ttacle. Come to-morrow and eat dinner mit me, and we will talk about it." The nephew came very near giving three cheers on the spot, but be restrained hintself, and next day he was promptly on hand at the appointed hour. The dinner was a very good one^ and the uncle related in his usual bad gramjraar mauy re- miniscences of his early trials and. struggles. One hour passed after the othesi, and still the jovial cheese dealer had not touched on the topic so near to the heart of the student. At last the latter plucked up courage, and said: Dear uncle, how about that fifty marks ?" "What fifty marks be yer talking about? I don't know nothiu' about no marks." The money that you promisad to lend me?" I dont' konw nothin' about lending no body no money. I didn't promise to lend you no money." But, dear uncle, don't you nemember I asked you yesterday if you could ienoLme fifty marks, and you said yes ?" A look of intelligence passed (aver the old man. and he winked with his little eyes as he replied:— f am one of them men whect hasn't got no edification to speak of, and sometimes my grammar ain't worth shucks; but what I knows I knows. You asked me if I could lend you them fifty marks, and I said I could lend you them fifty marks, but I didn't :say I would do it. That's the sort of grammar I understands, but somehow you has got such a good edification that you can't understand good grammar when you hears it. I kin lend you them ar fifty marks, but I did't say I was going to do it, did I?" Student Klemme found himself out in the street. He never precisely knew how he got there, but one thing is certain, and that that it cured him of the habit of ridiculing those upon whom he relied for assistance in the hour of trouble. PLAYING A POLICEMAN. In talking with Frank Whitjfield one day this week, be said: I see the reporter has been having a run on the room-mate racket lately. I had a little expe- rience of a similar nature my-teli in Chicago, be- fore I came out here to this rawdy West, a.nd if you would like to take it dovscn I'll spin you a story." My room-mate was a fat fellow, named Smith, whose devotion to free lunches and five- cent beer was something almost holy. Smithy usually wore a blue vest witili a white stripe, and a scarlet necktie, and, like myself, was a darling among the chambermaids and biscuit-shooters. I am compelled to confess, wrth the deepest regret, that Smith came home occasionally under the in. fluence of a spirit that is materialized in bottles, and that his hat-box was a'pt to fit his head better than the hat itself the following morning. Smithy's minor transgressions were numerous. For instance, having accidentally broken a lamp globe on one occasion, and, being charged thirty- five cents for it in his bill, he continued thereafter to break one shade per dary, alleging that the fun was easily worth two dollars forty-five cents a week. Upon another occasion he came home late one night with a organ grinder and a monkey, whom be posted in the front hall and ordered to play until he was stopped" much to the conster- nation of myself and the remainder of the house- hold. In vain did I stick to Smithy and plead with him to reform and let me propose his name at the Young Men's Christian Association. He was obdurate and gloried, in his evil ways. With pain I noticed that he kcipt a collection of human hair of various shades amid colours in his drawer, and that frequent letters came to him addressed in scraggy feminine chirograpby. He even read the personals in the dai ly papers and profaned our mantel shelf with rAtotographs of actresses, many of which contained the autographs of the lovely originals on the backs. We had not roomed together more than two weeks when the catastrophe occurred which caused us to separate, and mrike our landlady suggest that we seek our quarters elsewhere. It was in this way: Smithy and I took a walk one after- noon and were returning to our room. We were crossing the street about two blocks off when we noticed a policeman who was leaning against a. lamp-post in a peculiar way. One end of his club was against the post and the other against the small of bis back, anc'i he leaned carelessly back with this his only visible means of support. The devil inspired Smithy as we passed this blue- coated apparition, xrgi be struck the club with his cane and knocked it out from between the police- man and the post. Othe result was that the officer went head over he bis backward into the gutter, and Smithy, realizing that nothing could possibly save him except a combination of presence of mind and absence of body, fled like the wind toward the heart of the city. The officer rose, and with a volley of the mosfi awful profanity, started in pursuit. Smithy t^rew his whole soul into his his heels, and dodijing men, women, children baby-carriages, dogs, bill distributors, and every- thing else on the sidewalk and ran toward the Sbarman House, so that the officer could not fel- low him home, as be afterwards informed me and so discover where he lived. Smithy ran fast, but the officer ran faster, and by the time my fright- ened partner had Ilarted under the noses of the horses, dogged between the waggons and gained the opposite sidewtalk, the policeman was panting and swearing not thirty feet behind him. Then Smithy gained twenty feet by making a sadden tack into an hotel, but by the time he had created a sensation by rus thing up the corridor, the officer was coming in th e door. There was no time for thought and Sm ithy turned to the right and bolted up stairs. The officer scaled the flight im- mediately behindi him, and Smithy rushed on up, flight after night, past affrighted chamber- maid and staring porters, bnt when he reached the top fioorhis gTimpursuer wasonlyoneflight be- low him. But, by a special dispensation of Pro- vidence, the elector was just starting down 60S Smithy reached the top, and he calmly entered it and was wafted rapidly to the parlour floor, while the baffled polirjeman searched every room at the top of the hotel,, and then went out on tho roof, Smithy left the-.hotel by the ladies' door, and sped exultantly homeward, but I waited to view the policeman's discomfiture. What do yon suppose that ruffian did 2 He followed me back to the house, and soditscovered where Smithy lived, and i my partner felt; obliged to leave by the back door that night, ancf go on a protracted visit to his aunt in the country. That busted oar ewnbint- j tion, and wound me np fir ever oa the room-mate question. I always go it alone now."—Cmmtn I City Mercury.
FACTS AND FANCIES.!
FACTS AND FANCIES.! UNDER .VEITERS.—J uoior clerks. TEMPORARY INSANITY.—Time "out of mind." AN EXTRAOKDINAItY THING IN LADIES' BON- NETS.-A ciieap one. NOTK.BYA MEDICAL WAG.—When a doctor loses his patients, it does not follow that he is out of temper. What is the difference between a glass half full of water and a broken engagement? One is not filled full, and the other is not fulfilled. "Do you want fast coiours?" asked the draper. "No, indeed she answered, with -a pretty blush, My husband doesn't like anything fast. TIME PAYMENT.—A caustic wit, in speaking of an impecunious friend, said, He settles debts just like clockwork—tick, tick, tick." "Julia, my little cherub, when does your sister Emma return?" Julia "I don't know." Didn't she say anything before she went away?" Julia: "She said, if you came to see her, she'd be gone till Doomsday." "MANAGING."—"You can't drink so much brandy with impunity," said a physician to a gouty patient. Perhaps not with impunity, doctor, but with a little, peppermint I can manage it," was the serene reply. TAKING UP THE GLOVK.—" I am ashamed of the effeminacy of my sex," said a female orator. Look at your fnppsr.es and superfluities J Why, for instance, do you need parasol* when I never use one ?" And a pert minx answer, Be- cause you are on the shady side of life." Speaking about Egyptian affairs at Selkirk re- cently, a member of the Government expressed a fervent hope that, in consequence of England's in- tervention, the Egyptians would now return" to a vastly better Government than they had be- fore. LETTING THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG.—The son of a butcher had great difficulty in fractions, although his teacher did his very best. Now let us suppose," said the teacher, that a cus- tomer came to your father to buy five pounds of meat, and he had only four to :sen-what would he do ?" Keep his hand on the meat while he was weighing it," was the candid answer. A SHORT WAY WITH FOREIGN LANGUAGES.— A Yankee, guiltless of any tongue but his own, was haranguing on a German railway-platform a porter who was in the same predicament. An Englishman, seeing the expenditure of words with no corresponding result, offered his services • as interpreter. No, thank you, stranger," said the gentleman hailing from the land ot the Stars and the Stripes I guess English is the lan- guage of the future, and he's got to understand it." A bachelor and a spinster who had been school- mates in youth, and were about the same age, met in after years, and the lady chancing to remark that "men live a great deal faster than women," the bachelor returned, "Yes, Maria. The last time we met we were each twenty-four years old. Now I'm over forty, and I hear that you haven't reached thirty yet." They never met again. An excellent story is told of a British soldier in Egypt. His colonel, observing him one morning wending his way to camp with a tineEgyptian rooster in his arms, halted him to know it he had been steal ing chickens. "N 0, colonel," was the repiy I just saw the old fellow sitting on the fence, and I ordered him to crow for old England, and he wouldn't, when I confiscated him for a rebel." A well-known lawyer who is fond of fishing sent a telegram to the innkeeper at a favourite resort of anglers, requesting the usual preparations to be made for him, in the shape of dinner, bed, &c. On reaching his destination the next day, he was sur- prised to find his arrival unexpected, and nothing ready as he had desired. Did you not eret my message?' he asked, in astonishment. "Oh, yes, we got a letter, but as it was not in your own handwriting, we paid no attention to it I" said tha honest innkeeper. An unsophisticated countryman, who reached town on an early morning train, took a saunter through a street where a July iceman had just dotted the side-walk with "early deliveries." After viewing the "deliveries" with great curiosity, the stranger stopped a citizen and said, "Red powerful storm here I see." "Why, not that I know of," replied the citizen. "Ye didn't!" exclaimed the countryman, then where in thun- der did them hailstones come from ?" A good story comes from Geneva concerning a lady and gentleman who recently arrived there and found all the hotels so fall that they ulti- mately were accommodated with a bath room turned into a bedchamber. During the night, the husband, wishing to call for a light, pulled a cord attached to the wall, under the impression that he had got hold of the jell-rope. The immediate response was a deluge of cold water. Monsieur and madam yelled for help, bringing out a crowd of guests and waiters in all sorts of light and airy costumes. Tableau! A rustic having cone to the Calton Hill Ob- servatory to get a sight of the moon, after having got a glance of it, drew away his bead to wipe his eyes, and in the interval the end of the telescope noiselessly fell down, so as, instead of pointing to 1 the heavens, to point down to the earth. The rustic's surprise was unutterable when he again looked through and beheld the sign of a public- house, at a short distance, wit,h the customary de- clarations—Edinburgh ale, < £ c. He started back and exclaimed :—" Edinburgh ale in the moon Gude preserve us, that beats a' The Bishop of Ely, who has been visiting Lord Coleridge at Heath's Court, Ottery St. Mary, stopped in Bristol recently for a few hours, on his homeward journey, and happened to eater the cathedral just as afternoon service was commenc- ing. As Doctor Woodford was walking up the nave, his attention was attracted to a new brats which had been recently erected, and he made a momentary halt in front of it, whereupona verger, who did not mark the episcopal garments, jumped from behind a pillar, and gave the bishop a smart rap on the shoulder, informing him, with Bumble-like bluntness, that persons must not look at the monuments till after service." The bishop walked on into the choir, and a kind spec- tator nearly caused the verger to drop upon the pavement by informing him of the name of tha person he had treated so unceremoniously. The late Rev. Mr Millar, of Berwick, was a great humorist and always a welcome speaker at soirees. At one of these he related the follow- ing :—A boy had been sent with a letter to him- self and with strict injunctions to give it only to the minister. Arriving at Tweedmouth and ask- ing at the manse for Millar, he was told that if he would not leave the letter, he would find the minister in the garden. Mr Miliar was not ministerial looking at any time, but when work- ing in the garden he wore an old plazed hat and a labourer's sleeved waistcoat. So t!1e boy still a.sked-" Where is the minister Toe boy tiur- veyed him with a knowing look, and then with a burr, exclaimed—" Oh, what a leear Two Bailies of a northern town were boon com- panions, and on all occasions of festivity it was their special aim to drink their fill. Once, dining a little way out of town in the summer season, they left the table at different hours. They had to walk along a narrow path in a field of standing corn. The latest toper as he staggered on stumbled | on something soft and warm rigilt across his path. Stooping down he hiccoughed—" Is this you, Sandy?" "Aye, it's me help me up." "Icanna dae that, but I'll tell ye what I'll dae, I'll lie doon beside ye. Suiting the action to the word, down he lay, and Betty, the milkmaid, as she tripped along in the morning, found the worthy pairsuor- ing in each other's arms. An Irishman one day recently appealed for aid to a party of well-dressed workmen \vh >111 he chanced to meet. He said, I have not had a thing to do in my line for over nine m «ntiis. Will you please help a poor labouring man who has had a bad run of luck?" The working men felt disposed to assist a brother labourer who was oat of a job, and put their hands into their pockets in search of some money to give him, when it oc- cured to one of them to ask, How is it that you can get no work when there is plenty of work to be had?" Well, there has been nothing in my line, anyhow—not a thing for over nine months, worse luck," replied ihe applicant. What is your line?" asked one. "Shovelling snow," re- plied Pat. SPECULATION IN WHITECKAPBL.— The devices of London beggars are pointedly illustrated by the following. A German was called upon recently by a fellow-countryman who stood iu need of pecuniary assistance. He asked some questions, and ascertained from his petitioner that he had arrived in England oniv 011 the previous day. Then how came yoli \1 apply to me ?" The beggar hesitated. Y .u had better tell me," contiuued the oth»i, or else 1 shall give y"u nothing whereas, if you do te-Ii me, I shall give you So I understood," 8..i,i the 5y-n- xhe fact is, I applied at a house in Whitechapel which takes note of those who give to German applicants, and how much. One pays for each address in proportion to the sum generally obtained. In yourCAAe it was haif-a-crowti, and I had therefore to invest a shilling in the specula- tion.' LIKE THE SPRING.—The handsome young lady and the awkward man ot pretended sentimentut on a moss-covered bank. All d..y he hid annoyed her with his attentions. Miss Nfabel do you not like poetry ? Yes." "I worship it I live on it. See the picknickers out there. They shout and romp as though the air itself were not full of sentiment — of soul breutilings." "What business are you engagod in?" she a*ke'1. She knew, but wanted to hear him s.y. My business is perhaps Illore lucrative tliau ("n.;co>.l1iil.1. I operate a bone imll." "What?" "Yes, I grind up bones. The pu. verged bone i'; u-ed upon the land. It makes the flower-! brighter, the corn more luxuriant. Miss Ma.be!, you remind me of spring." "Why?" You are sc. gen tie," "You remind me of spring, she "I do*" jTf. leaned forward to catch hat word* "Ye-: vr are so green." An economical young man takes three ladies to dme at a Paris restaurant, and before tl»> repast is brought in, savs coutide-Jlv' U •],! gt»od second-do. Beaune it is less ,eLtf.w" diffi* WKi tlle iildies H'i:i never know the Si?If~yOUiv11<!erSUutl ?"' Thc ^ter replies ii"lner ls Serv-:J = Chambortin i< t t brought iu, according iio? re&entiy the generics diner calls !T -r*?e I' S1'1 >vnen he.vceivv* it his riouds ruiSIy Here, waiter." he observes, <!i<cii*w- JJg a wè:.nJe broadside o: nod.. and becks and wmaihed winkt apon that functionary. V-rn i. some mistake her? jri w'Í!.P, item "Oh no, sir says the waiter courteously. aralwo bottles of Chemoertin charged H.I» that was what you ordered/ c, Cortainly tw..ttW of Chambertin," chorus the !.v:ie# w« remember you ordering them. !t L« .1: -ichu*' Thsi economical young; man hu nothing to do but to pay up, and to endeavour to calculate bow nracb be has made by ba8 pruii»nt foretboogbt.