The Cardiff Times

BEDDARGRAFF GWENTWYSON. Wyt isa], hoff Wentwysor.,—a gafwyd Un cyfaill cariadlon; Ond i'r hedd y cwyd yr Ion Yn ddiwall dy weddillion. Tredegar. JOHN THOMAS (Ap Noah).

Y GWLITHYN. Nos iraidd berlyn seirian,—gwiw lwythog, Yw'r gwlithyn liw'r arian Gem oer lwys. digymar lan, Ar ddenol haf-rudd anian. Penygraig. AWENFRYN.

ACHAU PECHOD. Pa achau fel ein pechod ?—o'n trysor treisia'n ddiwybod; A myn, os gall, o'n mynwes, god Yr enw pur-arian parod Pontardulais. J. JENKINS (Gwili).

CANU DIM Dawn melus i dynu moliant—ffyliaid. Ffoledd am ogoniant; Dim a bloedd, blant, Ar f'einioes gywir fwyniant. Synwyr ni'fyn asenod,—a'i feddydd 'D yw foddus i'r dylod Gwaeddwr dim i'w gwydd raid doèi, Yn tunio unawd hynod. Pontardulais. J. JENKINS.

CYFARCHIAD PRIODASOL I Mr a Mrs THEOPHILUS EVANS, Ysgol y Bwrdd, Aberbeeg (gynt o Drecastell). Llawenydd dinafal gwel'd dau yn ymuno Mewn cwlwm serchgarol i gydfyw yngliyd, Er gwell ao er gwaeth wrth yr allcr yn selio I fyw o dan wenau dedwyddwch o hyd. Hardd ydyw ffyrdd odiasth dau'n un mown car- wriaeth,— Dwy galon yn toddi i'w gilydd yn llyn a flodau yn fyw mewn rhagoriaetb, Yn llanw eu Mwybrau,—mor brydferth yw byn! BuTheoyn chwareu a Sereh am flynyddau, Yn cellwair â\ saethau yn ddifyr o hyd; Ond Cupid, ° r d'wedd, roes un iddo yntau. A Mary yn cbwerthin yn Hawen ei phryd. Roedd Mair efo'i chusan yn drech na'i boll stranciau, A rhwymwyd my fellow gan draserch y ferch A byn yw diweddnod ei serchlawn lythyrau, A diwedd pob hagYl o chwareu a serch. Oes heulog a dedwydd, yn Hawn o rosynau, A llawn o fwynderau goludog eu rhyw, Fo'ch hoes briodasol, oos lawn o rinweddau, Oes oleu ddihalog. dan wenau eich Duw Oeslaiwn o fendithion tymhorol dihysbydd, Helaeihrwydd o adoniau Rhagluniaefth fo'ch rhan, A ohariad mewn llawnder, fel gwlith y boreu. ddydd, i IWn llanw eich'lhvybrjra ft mSl yn mhob man, -Tredegar. MAESYDDOG.

A STORY OF THE DOCTOR AND THE DETECTiVE. By Dr. Philip Woolf, Author of "Who i.s Guilty?" ic. SYNOPSIS. Tn BISCOVIK? OF THE MesDEB.—1Tbc: story opeiis in th* summer time in the out-of-the-way 'Vay place of Eglantine Hill, where a physician has an- wSccatrio patient, a wealthy but eccentric widow, Mim Glaye. Her charming daughter Bertha had engaged herself to a young man named Cyril Durand, whum Mrs Glaye had summarily dis- missed and forbidden to see Bertha. again. One midsummer night the doctor, who is alleromologist was out an expedition, when he heard a human shriek of Walking in the direction of the sound, lie found prone upon the earth, near some blackberry bushes, the dead form of a young woman. The fingers had worn jewels, and a diamond earring he picked off the grass and plaeed in his pocket. Then he set out to the nearest hotel, eight miles away, for assistance. On the verandah of the hotel he met Bertha. Glaye, pacing up and down, who said she WM waiting for the return of her mother, who, after a day of nervous excitement, had gone out alone. Having procured companions at the hotel, the party set out, the doctor acting as guide. Bat when they reached the spot described by the doctor they discovered that the body had been removed. The presence of blood on the trodden acd broken grass showed that there was no mistake about the spot. Following the lias of the crushed and beaten grass they traced the marks down to the wbarf. The tide was up and the spray was dashed by the wind,hi to their faces, but after a search found on one of the projecting • nails of the wharf flooring fragments of a woman's kid shoe. Frcm this they concluded that the body had been dragged over the wharf and thrown into the sea. No further clue was di:õ- covered. '1 he doctor and his friends returned, and the same evening Mrs Glaye's maid called on him to attend to her mistress who had been oet alone for a walk and had got entangled in some blackberry bushes and had torn her hands. This was told the doctor by the maid, but Mrs Glaye denied having been out and affected sur- JSrise at the doctor's visit. Who was the mnr- derer, and who the victim ? The doctor debates as to whether he wiU call m a detective or follow the clue himself.

CHAPTER III. NARRATIVE OF DETECTiVE FELIX FOX, COMMONLY KNOWN AS 11 LECOQ" FOX. N accordance with orders, I went down to Eglantine Hill early in the day following the evening on which the murder had been discovered, Had there been tele- graphic communiea- tion between this ont-of-the-way little place and the city a good deal of valuable time might have been sav ed. The dead body had been seen at eight the n:ght before. I reached the place about 11.30 next morning. Under the I circumstances the murderer had seine fifteen hours the start of me. I I was told that, on boarding the train, a certain Karl Brandt would give me the information on which to start the case. I discovered Iarl Brandt to be a man of some fifty years of age a tall, strong upright figure with an intellecturd, cleanly-3baven face, much wrinkled, but with rnddy cheeky, blue eyes, and an attractive smile. On acquaintance, I found him to be a simple, eccentric fellow, who wore his heart on his sleeve garrulous as all old people are, and fond of show- ing his learning and his knowledge of "hu- manity, as he called it. He told all he knew without any "pumping," and was childishly eager in offering his services to me. I was amused by his pomposity and simplicity; but won his goodwill for ever by treating him and his opinions with exaggerated deference- His information, how- ever, was valuable, and I jotted down in my j note book his description of the murdered woman. Here it is verbatim "A young woman about 20 years old, height five feet three inches, hair I long and light, almost flaxen blue eyes. very white skin, small hands and feet, teeth small and ¡. perfect, body well nourished and plump. On her head a small hat tied under the chin with a blue ribbon dress dark grey of a woollen material, soft, yet rough to touch high-heeled French kid shoes, but covered with mud, as if the wearer had walked over boggy ground hands scratched as if from contact '.with the blackberry bashes in which the body was found." The doctor also surrendered to me a ring and a breastpin that he had removed from the body a stroke of wisdom which he called" instmct- tive," and a slight evidence of subjectivity," whatever that might mean. The ring was gold, with a. simple blue stone embedded in its sub- stance; the breastpin was of silver, and con- sisted of two letters ehiborafcsiy interwined. The central letter, if I mAy so describe it, was a large E, around which was entwined a smaller C. As is usual with monograms. any number of number of letters might be imagined from the combination, but the two just indicated were un- doubted. These were useful facts to start with but, be- fore hunting down the criminal I determined to visit the ground of the tragedy, the good doctor acting as my guide. We walked toward a dense mass of blackberry bushes, on one side of which, toward the east, was a mass of congealed blood. In this direction and for a certain distance the grass was pressed down, and it re- quired no very strong imagination to detect a rough outline of a human being in the pressed down stems of grasses and goldenrods. A short distance away I lay down in the grass and pro- duced a similar impression. I may say that in this pavticuiar spot the grass was over two feet high. Towards the north, leading away from this depression, was a lane running through the jfrass towards the wharf. In the doctor's opinion it had been caused by someone dragging the victim, heels on the ground towards the water. The theoty was probable, but I reserved my decision. I closely studied the blackberry bushes, and was rewarded by discovering- fragments of two distinct materials. One was a. small quantity of a dark grey woollen stuff, which the doctor recog- nised aa a part of, or similar to, the dress the murdered woman wore. The other was of finer texture and black in colour, and was not recog- nised by the doctor. This was all the blackberry bushes revealed. We then directed our steps towards a group of popla.r trees surrounding a pond; a deserted, fungus-covered wooden house at once attracted my attention as offering a very useful temporary hiding-place for the murderer. Passing by the .6 pond" on our way to the ljowse I saw at a glance it was little more than a mass of tenacious mud. The doctor told me that at times this mud was covered two or three feet deep with very clear water, and that at other timea it was nothing more than so-much nostril-irritating dust. There were the imprints of footsteps in this mud lead- ing down to a small pool of water in thacentre of the depression. Tho impressions were in places plainly marked, and were of two forms—one large and broad, the other small and slender, suggest- ing that a man and woman had visited the spot. The doctor affirmed frcm|personal knowledge that on the morning before, near noon, a portion of the ground now indented with the impression of' fset was covered with water. It therefore follows that the imprints were made in the afternoon of the preceding day. The house was a wretched, mouldy, little bailding, rotted from foundation to roof it was only one storey high, and was divided into two rooms, but the partition had fallen down and rank weeds indifferently invaded what had been sitting-room and kitchen. In what I call the kitchen," on account of a length of rusty stove- pipe lying in one corner, the grass and weeds were pressed down, as if a weighty body had rested en them, there was a weather-stained, battered man's straw hat, which may or may not have been connected with the case under consideration. I appropriated it on principle, without believing in its value. I also found here a woman's glove, fresh, almost new, and perfumed, and also a email paper bundle containing a slice of bread and a piece of cheese. The paper was the frag- ment of a newspaper printed, as I afterwards dis- covered, on the day before. The doctor told ma that a valuable solitaire diamond earring had also been found in this unlikeJy place and was await- ing my orders. A most careful examination revealed little else of compromising nature. Human beings had recently visited the deserted house, that was evident, that was all. The place would be worth a more exhaustive examination, and I intended to rttura to it at some future time; for the moment I had seen enough. Returning by the way of the pond, I again examined the imprints of footsteps, and found them more numerous than I had first imagined. I was induced to go over the ground again on remembering that in the narrative the doctor had told me that on the night before he had sent two of his friends in this direction, and it seemed to me that the footprints might have been made by them. I now carefully measured the more distinct of the impressions, and obtained four distinct measurements, among which one undoubtedly was made by a. woman. At this point the doctor informed me that he had found a shoe on the wharf, which be thought belonged to the murdered woman. Whether tha conclusion was true or false, I determined to compare it with my measurements at the earliest opportunity. Still walking around the pond I discovered on one of the bent down leaves of a bulrush a stain suggestive of blood. I cut off the leaf, determined to study it at leisure, with the assistance of the doctor and the micro- scope. The long ribbon leaf of the bulrush bad been bent by the wind until its point touched the mud. The stain that suggested blood was som'j seven inches from the point of the leaf, and, as he suggested, might have been caused by somebody washing his bloody hands in the pcol of water, and unconsciously allowing a drop to fall on the leaf. This seemed the more probable explanation, as just basida the bent down leaf, m the muc., there were very distinct impressions of the ftiendpr high-heeled shoe which I had already discovered on other portions of the soft clay surrounding the pond. About seventeen inches behind the place indicated there was a bird's n1; that had been forcibly swept off the stem rf the bulrush, to which it 4iad been attached. I tsajr forcibly, for in the nest I discovered three small half-hatched eggs that had teen crushed fey a passing foot, and over our heads flew two tiny birds that were piteously complaining at the destruction wrought on their promising home. The sight brought the tears to the good simple doctors eyes, and he wailed over the cruelty of humanity. I found nouhing more of importance, though I travelled rcund and round the pond as tire- less as a slenthhound. I determined to pay a second visit to this place also, as this was but a preliminary survey. The chief point now was to discover the name of the murdered and missing vyoinan. I had ,u_ her description, and also two articles of jewel- lery belonging to her, thanks to the doctor's foresight. The task did not seem difficult iu this out of the raw little place, where every- body knows evervbody else, and I had no doubt of succeeding. However, before devoting my at- tention to the more doubtful human beings. I visited the wharf. The tide was out. and a long stretch of atones, sands, and seaweeris were before me. No body wedged among the rocks, no evidence of crime. The walk oat to trie end of the wharf was equally unprofitable. I was re- 1 tuming when my attention was attracted to a large, rusty hook projecting from one ot the beams of the wharf towards the west. On this j. hock was a small piece of some material that j' restlessly fluttered in the cold breeze. After some dangerous climbing I managed to secure it, and found it to be a fragment of a dark errzy woollen material which the doctor immediately recognised as similar to the dress worn by the murdered woman. My companion seemed to think that his theory of the crimo was thus completely vindicated, ] and he larded h:s song of praise with long j German quotations, which possessed almost as much meaning to me as his German manner of pronouncing English, which tho good man thought classically perfect. This theory was that tlio dead body had been dragged to the wharf and then tossed in the water. It was probable, but I preferred to wait until I was in possession of more facts. To tell the truth, at this stage of the inquiry I was little interested in the case, which seemed ^bungling, common-plate, and I 1 easily unravelled. Had I then suspected all the iniquity and rare canning concealed under its simple aspect my excitement would have been at fever heat. I had now gone over the ground of the crime, and on the way to the hotel I put the unsuspecting doctor to the pumping process. By artful questions I again tempted him into giving an elaborate account J of his investigation of the evening before and of displaying his knowledge of the people who made this unattractive spot their summer home. He bit eagerly at the bait, and launched into a long monologue, in which facts, philosophy, German, Greek, and tiu-ian-ty were jumbled most delightfully together. He was a fine egotist, believing in his own s uperiority to the rest of the world, but his garrulonsness only strengthened my first impression of him. His wisdom I don't dispute, my studies have not led me in this direction but despite his vanity he was one of those good-natured fools that an ordi- nary child might have wound round his linger. He was easily uci to tell all he knew, and it was still easier to guess all he suspected but I wisely decided to have nothing to do with his cobweb theories and to test his facts for myself. While ho indulged in elaborate discourse, I punctuated by astounding grimaces and wonder- ful gestures, I made mental notes of the follow- ing items; There was an eccentric old woman named Amelia. Glaye wilo had forbidden her daughter Bertha to marry a certaaa wild young man named Cyril Durand. Eeriiia seemingly obeyed tho command, especially as slio had opportunities to solace her leisure moments with a handsome young fellow called Otto Morton. i'he old lady, m an unusual burst. o: activity, had gone out alone on the night of the murder, and when she returned her hands were scratched, and she had lost one of her solitaire diamond earrings. On her return, she was so intensely excited that the doctor was called. He visited her to find her unusually c-alni and self-possessed. She denied having gone out, and also denied having lost an earring. This phase of human nature completely astonished the good doctor, who prides himself on his thorough knowledge of human nature. He had not got over his surprise at the moment of speaking, or I am convinced that he would not have related this eccentricity of the good lady, e whom he sincerely respected. I concluded my mental notes, and propounded to myself the following questions while the doctor was still volubly eloquent over his-own superiority to the rest of human nature. The questions were I Why had the old woman, Amelia Glaye, broken through the routine of her life by going out alone on the night of the murder? What was the real reason of her refusal to allow her daughter to receive the attentions of the wild Cyril Durand ? Had she ever tolerated Cyril Durand's atten- tions to her daughter ? She ia rich and he is poor. Are money reasons at the base of the re- fusal ? She charges Cyril Durand with being wild. Did he know the murdered woman ? She bitterly charges Cyril Durand with being wild-with threatening her life. Was she in. love with the young man and jealous of him ? Stranger things have happened in thisstrange world, and a woman's heart at 50 is still alive to sentiment. What did she witness on her night'journey that caused her to utter a deliberate falsehood ? Is love stronger than jealousy Is there content at a rival being removed out of the way ? Who is thi3 good young fellow, Otto Morton, and what is tho meaning of his mysterious phrases ? Did he know the dead woman, and how did he pass his-time on the evening in ques- tion ? I set down these questions just as they occurred to me, and the reader will judge from them that I had formulated no definite theory of the crime. to me, and the reader will judge from them that I had formulated no definite theory of the crime. Certain envious persons have criticised my method of conducting this case, and have denied me the right to bear my well-known nickname of "Lecocq" Fox Let the wise reader judge me from my plain narrative of facts, and as the case is unfolded let him ask himself if he would have acted differently from me. This envious malignity deprived me of the position of superintendent of police, to which I had the right but it shall not deprive me of what I hold dearer, my fame and the goodwill of my beloved readers, whose I judgment is always unbiassed by prejudices, and is always right I say, then, that I had formulated no definite theory of the crime, and let me add that the theory of the crime, and let me add that the chief part of this narrative was written day by day as my investigation progressed. It was not written after the case was ended, and its details modified to harmonise with the denouement, I made notes hour by hour, and the reader accompanies me hour by hour. What I know now does not influence my story in the least, and If my maligners are right, the reader will have ample opportunity of deciding or confuting. At the doctor's invitation I first went to his cottage, where I was treated to an excellent cold lunch, with fine wine and fine cigars thrown in. Over the hospitable table we discussed the case, and again us-d my Lecocq "eunmng in arousing the amusing egotism of my amiable host. Before leaving tho house, tho discoverer brought the solitaire diamond earring to me, and I had an opportunity of judging of its rarity and value. The eccentric old woman must have been very rich, if she could afford to lose a jewel like this and make no moan. But then, if she is rich, why did she come to a wretched,t unfashionable place liko Eglantine Hill for' the summer ? As the doctor would say, the ,latent possibilities of the case were endless. Two,! other items detained me for a few minutes. In the first place the microscope mco:atestablyi proved that the stain on the bulrush leaf was, human blood. Here was one question definitely* answered, in tho next place I was flowed to study^ the shoo that had been discovered on the wharf. It was a woman's shoe the kid portion above the heel had been worn out, probably by ,being dragged ever the nails on the wharf floor- ing, and over the stones, but the sole was intact. It did not correspond with any of the measure- ments that I had made at the pond. It evi- dently belonged to a woman with a.smaller fuob; 1 JJ S ° wa3hed her hands in the, muddy pool. This was another point, small but" usefui. The doctor spoke of proportion, the old-' Grecivs and the Egyptians, and attempted to demonstrate the size of the women from the sine of their feet, bit I had no faith in his theories on this subject, and so I left him to set about the real work before me. The one subject in my 'I mind will be discovered from the -following ques-, tionjhai now pressed for an answèr- Who was the murdered girl ? That was the first question to be answered. I bade the doctor farewell, as I did not wish ray mission to be suspected, promising to meet' him again in the evening. I saw a number of people on the wharf fishing, and I leisurely directed my steps towards them. I found them as I expected, talking of the murder, and hazard- ing opinions as to the victim and the cause of the crime. I listened from a sense of duty, hoping against hope to pick up a item or two of value. My attention, however, was chiefly directed to- ward a handsome, black-haired young man, who niaintainrd a profound silence, and seemed to be deeply interested in fishing, though he had not baited his line for the ten minutes I covertly watched him, and asked with a fisherman's familiarity, Any luck ? I "Not for me," he answered politely, yet shortly. They are biting famously on the other side," I continued, nodding toward th» ocean side of the sandy jiit, and venturing a statement which I knf w could not be disproved. sandy pit, and venturing a statement which I knf w could not be disproved. f Getting no answer, I leaned on the rail beside him, and after studying his line for a moment, said I've just heard that the murderer of the young girl has been found Of course, this was one of the usual tricks of the trade, but it served its purpose by attracting his attention as I desired. What is the name I" he asked, turning that he might stzixe down at me. His name My taciturn friend evidently had a theory of the crime, at least. Guess!" I am not good at the business." I thought you might have a suspicion." A flush came into his face, and the hand holding the fishing line trembled a little; but be said bravely enough: I have no suspicion. Who is it ?" A tramp named Sinker, as far as I can make it out." it out." SI My statement had attracted around me the amateur fishermen, as I intended, and they listened amateur fishermen, as I intended, and they listened to me with the absorbed attention, the handsome black-haired man alone seeming to have lost all interest in the subject. The curiosity hunters jeered at my announcement of the arrest of the imaginary Sinker. "It's just like the poliee stammered an old man who^ fishing line was a piece of knotted packing erd, if you tell thm a sculpin has eaten your bait, they'll arrest a mackerel for it. Have they found out who tho woman in V No," I answered, the centre now* of,, No," I answered, the centre now* of,, dlers in the place. But I'm told they found the body, and on it a breastpin with the initial letters E C." "Ella and Cyril chirped out a childish voice. Ilooked down and saw a boy amusing himself by 'dashing a very small sculpin against the wharf. w What is the child driving at ?" I asked, with- out- receiving any answer from the men, who slowly left nie, and returned to their neglected lines. Who is Ella, little boy?" "I don't know," he answered, without look- ing ui and with his foot on the sculpin, from whose icapacious mouth he was trying to extract the sw. allowed hook. "But Cyril; Cyril Durand, you know, lives over yonder when he's ter home." The child indulged in a compre- p oi the hand, then hallooing, Hi, Billy us a row rushed from tbe wQarf and vanisl.*ed, only to re-appear in a row-boat under the vriiart, and to salute roe with the title of sculpir, -tuotith The youth had only repeated what he had -heard his eiders speaking. I don't refer to "sculpin neir;h," but to the word "Ella." That the men itad been speaking of the subject 'their sudden silence convinced me. But it was not my place iX> increase their obstinacy by em- barrassing them with questions. I bided my time and stood silently watching whilo they waited for the -fishthw, wouldn't bite. I kept doggedly bv the side of the man I had decided was Otto Morton, and thtwgiit he did not know me from Adaia. I saw that he would be glad if I were awiry. For certain reasons I had made up my mine not to press my advantage just then, and so I determined to cultivate the acquaintance of a man with the red nose, who was winding up his line preparatory to retiring from the wharf. I had no doubt that this was the Mr Bantle who had beeui the doctor's companion in the expedition on the ayening before. I followed him as he left the whait, and soon walked beside him. Mr Bantle Thatft*. my name." "Youihiid a very exciting experience last night." Very f" He was taciturn and grave at the same time. I would\like to speak to you, Mr Ba.ntle, but I trust in your secrecy. I am Detectiva Fox." "I gueæoo Tour business," he said quietly, but he could not his vanity. I was in citi- zen's clothes, aft d that he could guess my pro- fession through* vny disguise was a supposition that was ridicule as. I read him at once; he was the average stupi-l man that wished to appear very wise, so I c't'termined to tickle his vanity and win his bean^t the same time. You have e' eyes to read me so easily. You are just the kind of man I want one of the intelligent sorl; ivhose words are worth their weight in gold. Tbo doctor has been telling me about yon." "The doctor is agi-od man," he said, with an assured nod of the hea.d, but if he has told you everything, what do yfu want of me ?" ".Several things, Si the first place, who was the man I stood besidei on the wharf ?" "Mr Otto Morton." So I thought. Who is this woman Ella they talk about I don't know." "Never heard of her Heard them speak of Ella Constant,' but neve" sav/ her and knowvething about her." What did they say of her ?'' That she haunted thpa footsteps of her former lover, Cyril Durand, ham.ted him like a ghost and goaded him to despem tion Do you know this Cyril Durand V' 'Yes but we were nffwq r friendly. His ways are not my way,. They s¡ he drinks too mueh, gambles too much, and is too fond of women. I don't personally know anything against him, only I don't fancy him ?" "This woman, Ella Constant, annoyed him?" "lam not in his confidence. Otto Morton is. My information is only tsecor.d-hand. What I have heard was that he way tired of her per- sistency that she clung to hon as closely as a perch to a hook." What was said of Ella Cotfcstant ?" I never met anybody who knew her what was known of her came from Durand he'd get drunk, and then he would taU: of her and his troubles. He never said anytbing to me, for, as I've said, we were not intimate. I am only telling you what you could get Lwater elsewhere." I saw that it was Mr Bantle's eccentricity to give the credit of what he knew to other people but, provided I got the facts and', rumours, I was satisfied to humour his whims. She stood in his way ?" I "She was the cause of Mrs GSaye bouncing him." "She had visited -Alr, (.*lave?" I don't know, I only speak fro,w-,ramour." Dr Cyril Durand was paying his attentions to Miss Glaye was everything satisfactory up to the appearance of this Ella Constant ?" "Durand was always warmly welcomed by Mis Glaye," said my companion, dryly. The old lady was very eager at first. to have her daughter married, until, if rumouz. is right, she became the rival of her daughter." "She fell in love with Durand 1" "So the story goes." "And he?" Head over ears in debt. Put yourself in his place and guess his actions." But he was in love with the daughter ? I think he was only afraid of his debts. If r he had any rerd feeling, it was not for Bertha Glaye or her mother. But he was in a tight place, and he tried to get out of it as quickly as possible. (If it had been me, I would have been willing to 'marry Mrs'Miettrasalcan That's philosophy and fashion! Did, he en. gage himself to the old woman?" "No; l'le heard he was tha accepted suitor of the daughter; but just the same the old woman thought he was in love with her, and she was wildly jealous of his actions-for her daughter's sake "I suppose she was offended when she heard that he had been talking of the matter to his, friends." "DHrand/is a good fellow-; but that is one of his faults he can't keep his tongue still, he tells his affairs to everybody." "From what I have seen the daughter takes the affair very coolly." "She's dead in love with Otto Morton, but, she's awfullyafraid to-let the old lady know It this time." What do you mean "The mother is awfully anxious to get the daughter married for some reason or other, but whenever a promising lover turns up the old > .i woman can't resist swooping down on him. I believe she's frightened away half a dozen in- tended husbands already. It's my belief she's crazy as a. loon." You know hert" "I ought to, as I live-in the same hotel., fShe's-a-nuisance. Sometimes she's all right, and ;sometimes ahe's all wrong. Dr. Brandt attends on her, and can give you all the points." Let U3 return to the-murdered woman." "Y outhink-" I did think at all he answered positively, ,and with-the flush on bis nose extending to his cheeks. I've told you all I know and all I've heard, and you must take it for what it is worth. But if you are going to ask me who killed the woman you are wasting your time." May I ask you to point out to me where.Mr* Durand lives ?" It is the last cottage on, the beach-a houses painted yellow with a red roof." Have you seen the gentleman to-day f No; he was to have been at the hotel this. morning to complete a match game at billiards ;r butdid not appear. They say ho has sprained his; arm packing a trunk Mr Bantle gave this information staring straight before him, and with an air suggestingl forced indifference. He intended to leave this place soon 1" To-morruw; but they say he is in bed and* in great pain." Do you believe this story, Mr Bantle f' Do you believe it I" he ask-ioj, with a shadow: of a smile. I answered with strong and; taking- emphasis- No I" r

CHAPTER IV. NARRATIVE OF DETECTIVE FELIX FOX. (Continued). Was Cyril Durand guilty? Perhaps, btxtbe- fore arresting him under this supposition, it was policy to discover his confederates, if any, ¡ beforb th»y suspected my intention. To arrest ono was to alarm others. If Durand bad asm mittiid the crime be would not be fool enough to I run away and thus publish his guilt to the world. Besides I had as yet nothing definite, and I did not see my way clear. I again turned to the noncommittal Mr Bantle with the words:— You say this Durand and Morton ace very dear friends V I didn't say so, for I don't know." Did they ever quarrel ?" "I suppose everybody quarrels with, every-- body; that's life." You are a student of human nature, Mr Bantle. It does one good to hear you speak. They did quarrel, then f' "Yes." Well, I think Morton was Jealous cf- Dnrand, -about Miss Glaye, I suppose." «'-Durand threatened Morton ?" It was the other way Morton threatened Durand—that is, if you can call it threats—told him if ne didn't look out he'd make him the sickest man that ever lived, or words to that, effect." "Curious From his face I would take Mortonr to be a very good-natu red man." "He is amiable enough when he is amiable, but he has a devil of a temper I mean easily Stirred LP. For instanoe, he was laughing and cbattmg^bis. mornujgwhen his fish-hook caught r in. over, kick over his basket, and chuck his bait I overboard, you'd know what I mean. His mother was a Spanish woman maybe that I accounts for it." Did he know this Ella Constant?" c, Knew of her, at least, for I have heard him speak of her." Spoke of her as if he knew her ?" "Never. He spoke of her hounding the foot- steps of Durand. called her names, and said if it had been him he'd get rid of her in double quick time. I suppose, like the rest of us, he heard the story from Durand." "Theytieilrne Morton is awfully smitten on Miss Glaye." I should say he was gone 5 there in more senses than one, said Mr Bantle dryly. I went to his room once and found him kissing and kissing again tho photograph of Miss Glaye. He's sappy Mr Bantle spat upon the ground to properly il- lustrate his contempt for a sap." He must have been happy when Durand was bounced ?" He was, and would be if he wasn't afraid the old lady will one day forgive Durand and allow him to renew his courtship with Bertha G! aye." Gives him the nightmare, eh ?" He'll grind away all his teeth if he keeps on." Mr Morton ha.3 the figure of a very young man." He is strong," said Mr Bantle. emerging from contempt into admiration. He can lift a man up by the collar of his coat as easily as I can lift a kitten. If yon want to know how strong he is, put on the boxing gloves with him and let him fetch you a crack on the nose. I weigh nearly 200 pounds, and he can knock me clean off my feet every time I am fool enough to spar with him. I once saw him half drag, half ¡ carry a heavy trunk from the hotel on the other I side of Eglantine Hill clean over to the wharf yonder. Did it for a bet." Is Durand strong ?" No Again Mr Bantle grew contemptuous. Durand is a pipe stem, a broomstick of a. man, beside Morton, though he isn't a baby either." So you think Morton would fight for his lady- love if anybody wished to take her away from •him ?" "Fight till his shoes wore out. Knowing his I nature I'm surprised he has not long since carried off Miss Glaye by main force." "If she loves him, why doesn't; she marry I him ?" "1 don't know, unless it is if she disobeys the old "iady she will be cut off without a shilling. Bui, I say, haven't you pumped me dry yet?" I thanked Mr Bantle for his very valuable information and allowed him to go. Jnst how much it was to ba accepted and how much rejected I could not decide. The man intended to be honest, but he was afraid of getting mixed up in the affair, and so what he knew, what he guessed, and what he had heard, were all jumbled together. Let me say that even at this point I believed the case to be one of simple murder one of the ordinary kind that may be unravelled by following your nose. I lighted a cigar, turned about, and by in- stinct, retraced my steps toward the wharf. On approaching it I saw that, with one exception, the fisherman had departed tho exception was the once taciturn Octo, who was stIll there ranking the pretence of fishing, although the tide was out and his hook was in the mud. He was talking m a very arimated manner to a young lady who now stood beside him. The woman was young and 'pretty, and dressed in rich and veiy becoming attire. The frizzy hair showing below her bonnet flashed li.Œ gold threads in the sunlight, almost distracting atten- tion from the jewels sparkling on her fingers. This evidently was the inconsolable Bertha, spooning" with her latest admirer. I had no objection for, physically, she was worthy of any man's attention. A tall, graceful, charming figure, posed in a more charming attitude, and in perfect harmony with the bright sky and dancing waters. I know a pretty woman when I see one, and the plump little figure on the old rotten wharf met with my full approbation. I sheltered myself be- hind a stranded row-boat on the shore, and gazed at the absorbed lovers. Unfortunately I was not near enough to hear the conversation, and I de- termined to improve my position. As I have said, the tide was out, out almost to tho end of the wharf, and by walking on the soft sand I could easily get under the wharf, just below the position they occupied above. The man's back was turned to me, and the woman was standing sideways talking to him. I could make the journey entirely outside the line of vision. Be- fore doing so, however, I instinctively gazed to- ward the hotel opposite, and I was rewarded by seeing another very pretty figure standing on the verandah. The new comer had black hair and a rich brown skin, and altogether suggested one cf the languid yet pas- sionate senoritas of sunny Spain, according to tha pictures I have seen. She wore no hat, and she was looking towards the wharf, shading her eyes with her hand. So far as I could see, this dreamy lady wore no jewels, and no ornaments except a spray of goldenrod fastened to the bosom of her dress under her throat. A pretty figure to be alone; and a curious occupation staring down at the unattractive wharf. After a while she started, and disappeared around an angle of the verandah. I knew that she must reappear to enter the house, and so I waited why I cannot tell. My patience was not .tested for long in a few minutes she reappeared, and without glancing toward the wharf, entered tthe house/ My professional eye detected one iittle change in her attire. During her absence she had cast aside the spray of goldenrod, and i: a bunch of the white wild aster now nestled I in the bodice of her dress. I observed without pondering; but later I had reason to remember this little trIne. When tho young lady disap-. peared in the hotel I determined to play the part of spy to the lovers on the wharf, and without the slightest difficulty I reached the spot under the wharf. I plainly heard the conversation above me. This is what I heard, true to the very; letter :— You are always impetuous, Otto. How often have I told you that you have no reasons to be jealous of poor Mr Durand. I do not love him,, and I never did love him." Yet you defend him ?" this-surlily. Defend him against the charge of murder ?, Why should I not ? I do not believe he ia capable of committing a crime." Yet the woman was in his way." "If I were in your way, would you kill me, you wretched Otto ? "I would kill anybody who stood between you and my love, and I hate Cyril because I fear he stands between me and my love. I think I have fire instead of blood in my veins." "I suppose you do love me, Otto but just the same you kept me waiting and waiting for you last night, and, loving me, you refuse to tell me where you were." "I have told you that I went to the city. in the afternoon and missed the last train back. I re- mained in the city all night." It was a pity the young lady did not know as: much as the good doctor, who had met the lover; at a late hour on the night before. The good: was not beneath telling a falsehood to his., lady-love. In the city;, thab ia absurd. I saw you in the. .afternoon, and yon said nothing about leaving. Eglantine Hill. Perhaps, like this poor Durand, you have a mania for meeting young women in in the open air perhaps you have'killed some- body Bertha She spoke lightly yet tho one word-she'spoke tWas tremulous with nervousness and excitement. •I would have given a good deal to have caught ai glimpse of his tace.. You goose I was only joking. But if you keep secrets from me T have a right'to bei suspicious." "If I were theialse friend you take me for ii would eagerly share my secrot with you. If n were not convinced you love me I should howl: my secrets from the house tops. As it is I am half mad between fear and jealousy. If I-were not afraid of losing you I would run away until the excitement blew over. The idiotic detectives -will soon be here Good, my friend! You are complimentary ■ i And why should they not come ? I am not ai fhard-hearted woman but I would help to hunt; down the wicked wretch who murdered the poor < woman." "If you will take my advice. Bertha, you will' persuade your mother to return to the city as; soon as possible. The season is over here, and* imost of the people have gone." "And then, Otto, you are tired of meeting- mo. of always seeing me. An out-of-the-way -little country place is a wearisome place for a. man," I love your darling c; Be careful, Otto; the wharfinger iscomingi way This was the prosaic end ng of what promised ? to be a very pretty little love scone. I will wait for you in the summer-house this. hatterncon, Betha." If I can escape I will meet you, only I hope you will be a little more agreeable than yon were this morning. But look, sir, you, are fishing in • the mud you are ridiculous." Let me walk with you to the hotel y "Twenty steps? No, thank you; I am safe enough alone for that distance." Peeping out from under my hiding-place, I saw tho young lady walking in thtv direction of the hotel, into which she finally disappeared. A few minutes later the gloomy-faced Otto lounged by, going in tho opposite direction. When be had disappeared I emerged from my hiding place, ascended to the roadway and walked on the wharf, which a man was sweeping. The word wharfinger" was on his blue cap. I approached him and wished him good morning. He responded in an amiable manner. I "You had a nice little sensation here last night," I said. It was terrible, and a temble night to do tha mnrder in." They dragged the body pretty close to your dooc. Pitched it overboard from the head-of the wharf." At what time V Somewhere between eight and nfne." I was not at home at that hour." So you neither heard nor saw anything f Nothing." "Was it known that yøø wonld not.beair. oome tt1 How can I say ?" uÐid nobody speak to yon on the subject1" yesterday ?" "Nobody. Yesterday morning Mr Durand; asked m" If I would join him in fishing off the, head of the wharf at full tido in the night. I told him that I was going visiting with my wife. That is the nearest approach to the subject, and that amounts, to nothing. But, pardon me, you' r (.are ajsfcranger here. Are yon connected-with "thei case 1" "I am Detective-RMC." "Please come this way, then." The wharfinger led ma under the roofed-in, structure at the head of the wharf, and poi&ted to' some barrels, sUadi»Rift.the cornec, J Look among those barrels, please. I left it where I found it, thinking its position might help the investigation." The "it" proved to be a battered, water- soaked woman's bonnet, with a blue spotted veil still attached to it; a flimsy black straw affair, with a big hairpin stuck through the crown of it. I saw the hat there for the first time this morning while I was sweeping," said the Whar- finger in reply to Detective Fox. "It might have been there for weeks." Impossible; the barrels were only landed there frorr the last boat yesterday. The bonnet has found its way there since last night." The barrels faced that part of the wharf to the right on which there was a narrow pathway. If the bonnet belonged to the murdered woman it was probably blown from hor head as she was dragged along and carried through some open space on the side of the structure, which side was composed of pine boards with openings between each. On testing it I found that the hat could easily pass through the openings. That it belonged to the murdered woman was probable, for the lower half of tho veil was stiff with dry blood, and then it corresponded to the brief account given by the doctor in his de- scription of the appearance of the woman. I opened my note-bock and read On her head a straw-hat tied under the chin with a blue ribbon." As will be seen, tho veil is not men- tioned, and so I determined to test the doctor's memory on this point on my return to the house. I wrapped up the hat, and as the Wharfinger had nothing else to tell, I bade him farewell. I now directed my steps toward the hotel, persuaded that I was getting on fairly well with the busi- ness. In the first place I had discovered the name of the murdered woman, and that was a very important point, for I could now trace out her past history and solve several little knotty problems at the same time. This woman, Ella Constant, had pursued the man Durand, and seemingly no had met her on the night of the murder but had he met or bepn met by no one else ? Was it wise to jump to a con- clusion before I had discovered the name of the woman who had washed her bloody hands in the pond water ? This woman was not Ella Con- stant, as the footprints proved. Who was it, then? This is what I now determined to find out. To make a false step by premature activity would bo to entangle what I now regarded as a very simple knot. Haste is the attribute of in- experience, and I had seen too much bungling work to err on this side. I saw my way clear, and I determined to reach the end of the journey in my own calm way. So I boldly entered the hotel, and whispering my mission to the clerk, asked to be shown to Mrs Glaye's room. I did not put the clerk to the pumping process because the good doctor had already given me all the information I required on this point. The young man, however, suggested that I had better send a card. I wrote down an imaginary name. and under it On very impor- tant business," and sent it up to Mrs Glaye. In a short time, and to my surprise I received ames. sage that the good lady would receive me. I was shown to her sitting-room, which was richly furnished, and with no striking pecu. liarity, except that all the windows were protected on the outside by thick iron bars. Sitting in au arm-chair was a composed, handsome, and dignified woman, whom I should have guessed to be 40 rather than 50 years of age. There was not a sign of a wrinkle in the grave, thoughtful face; not a sign of time's frosty finger in the classically coiled dark hair. The figure was upright and self-reliant; full, but with no superfluity of flesh. It suggested strength, alhty, and a certain maturo and not- unattractive grace; in fact, I have seen many young ladies who would have been thrust very deep in the shade beside this well-preserved woman who had crossed the border line of the fifties. A series of scratches were on her slender white, aristocratic hands; but for a moment this vision of youth in age was surprised into neglecting them. She had been reading, and my card lay on her book. She glanced curiously at me, but her man- ner was courteous. I am ready to hear your important business, Mr Rogers;" she said, glancing from the card to me. A line of action immediately flashed through my mind, and I answered "Excuse me, vou have received the wrong-card. I am Detective "Fox I had hoped that the name and the title would have startled her into some action or word that would have resolved my hesitating doubts into certainty, but the announcement brought no change to face or manner. Why have you come to me?" she asked. Her voice was clear, soft, and musical. I have been sent dowu here, Mrs Glaye, to clear up tho mystery of the murder of last night, and if you would be kind enough to answer a few of my questions you would lighten my task considerrbly. Ask your questions," she said, with a weary sigh, leaning back in her armchair and gazing at me from under drooping lids. I have been told that you left this hotel last night near or at the hour of eight o'clock, or perhaps earlier." You are misinformed, sir; I did not leave my room." I could understand now the good doctor's sur- prise. for the manner in which she spoke as- tounded even me, it so nearly looked as if she really believed what she said. "Pardon me; but am I to understand that you did not visit the deserted home near the pond T' I have never been in the place in my life J" If it were possible to impose on me I should have been imposed on but, unfortunately for the good woman, I possessed a proof, or proofs, that she was deliberately uttering a falsehood. Forgive me if 1 insist-" "It is your duty" she interrupted, "if I am pained I hold you blameless. Ask all you have to ask." Thank you! You lost a solitaire diamond earring." "One of my solitaire diamond earrings is missing. I prized it. not for its value, but for the memories clustered around it." "You had both in your ears last night." "It is probable." < And yet the missing jewel was found in the deserted house; and see, it is in my possession With these words I suddenly flashed the dia- mond before her. That is niy earring she said, .11.s quiet and as undisturbed as if the confession were no con- demnation of her previous assertion. Her self- control was marvellous.. » Am I still to understand, Mrs Glaye, that you maintain your previous denials ?" "I did not leave this hotel or even my rooms last night. Your insistence is annoying, but I do not blame you." She again sighed wearily but was patient, quiet, and undisturbed or, rather, she did not allow me to see the symptoms of the struggle in her heart. Your hands are very badly scratched," I said with meaning, yet with polite interest. "Very badly scratched," she repeated, gazing; with a frown at the slender hands clasped' in her soft silken robe. I could not help saying.: iECirts arevery.dape;" She affected not to see the fine irony, andj answered: "I have no pets. I went to sleep with un- sullied hands, I wake up, and thoy are as you see, them. Explain why they are thus distorted, and you will oblige me." I began to ses through her cunning game, and I said with an amiable, simple smile "You perhaps walk in your sleep, madame." "No, sir; lata not » somnambulist; in all my weary life I have been singularly free from nervousness of allkinds( What game was she driving Was there no way of compelling her' to throw aside her .mask,? Are yon acquainted, with a man named Cyril Dnrand 1 asked suddenly. I P her armour at last; her placidity melted into a nervous tremor; the colour faded from her lips and cheeks, and then came back in scarlet patches; the fingers of her hands worked tremulously, and her voice quivered as sheTe- tplied I am acquainted with the gentleman." I have captured a. criminal after a long, race, aDd his panting breathing was on an exagerated scale similar to the breathing of the once self- possessed woman. She had a strong will but ,her emotion conquered her, and she pressed her Jiand to her heart. "Must we talk on this subject.?" she asked, with a faint smile, after she had subdued her restless heart. "It is a very painful subject, '10 me; but if it is your duty my feelings shall not stand in yonr way. I have forced myself îfor loug years other agony is a trifle after this." Her pain and humiliation were so marked, that I would have spared her, suspecting even what I suspected, but my reputation was at istae, and I was also curious to test my strength. This remarkable woman seemed worthy of being submitted to the most subtle analytic skill of Lecocq" Fox at a glance I saw that she was an adversary worthy of me, and I determined to pin her to the I cannot compel you to answer my auestions, madam I have no authority to do 80. I repeat again that I do not hold you reo sponsible, although I seem to see the final desolation that late Is preparing for me. I have nothing to conceal, either here or in a' court of law. no further apologies, and finish this disagreeable business as soon a3 possible." "Did you see Mr Cyril Durand last night?" I have not seen him for weeks U Since you forbad him paying attention to your daughter?" The face which had regained comparative placidity became gloomy thoughtful. After an embarrassed pause she raised her serious eyes toward me, and said slowly and with emphasis T -S^ore I speak listen to me and correct mo it l am wrong. you ar0 here representing out- raged justice, and believing that my informa- tion is necessary to increase or dissipate your suspicions, you ask me to speak. I answer your questions under the belief that what I say to you will be sacredly treasured in your own breast, and only go far as will advance you in You will not reveal a word ot wh?t I say to others and if you discover you are mistaken in points, you yourself will rget whafc 1 aay to you." 1 am not liable. madam, to {pvo the secrets -of others to strancrera I may act on the infor- ■lnation you &Ve "bufc j "will not reveal it. Others will only know your affairs from your | if you should be called to the witness chaIr.' iT01? ^tions answer is more promising than woaid be a ready agreement of uiy demand, ¡.,J.,at; me now assure you that I know of nothing iithat will help jn thia murder, I only casually hean of it this mornin!?- Having uttered this- statement, I t0 VOur .itids-roent to ask ;such_questiona ag you may 3esire." X wiii try an<j brief. Would you object jj to inform mo why you forbade your daughter r/rop r^eivhjg the attentions of Mr Durand ?f v v. not a real* bnt an adoptod- child. I was lonely, and I received her some ten years ago, hoping for a companionship that I have not received." "Pardon my impertinence; you adopted her during your husband's lifetime ? "I am not married," she answered, very calmly. "To understand this, I must trouble you with a brief account of my past. Years ago," she continued, in a voice in which I dø. tected tears, in spite of the strong will govern- ing it, "I was engaged to a man named Julius Glaye. We were both poor, but we loved each other so faithfully that we promised each other that, if fate kept us apart, we would still be true to each other and marry no one else. I trusted him, and he trusted me. He is dead, and I have still kept my word by remaining a single woman. She became silent for a moment and toyed thoughtfully with a plain gold ring on her finger. Uttering a little sigh, she continued In those days I was loved by a rich man, who did his best to win me to himself. He hated his poor rival, and tried to ruin him in my eyes and in those of the world. He did not succeed in either case. One day the two men met and quarrelled. In a moment cf frenzy Mr Glaye rushed at his rival with a daggor, and was shot through the brain. There was a trial with a verdict of justifiable homicide. The murderer of my intended husband still pursued me with his attentions, and was still unsuccessful. This happened in Europe. The murderer was a rich jeweller without any near relatives. Years afterwards he committed suicide, but before doing so made his will and then died. His vin- dictive nature is seen in his last testament. He left his entire fortune to me under the proviso that I should marry. If I remained single I was not to touch a penny of it; if I died unmarried, the fortune was to go to a distant relation of the dead man. On the death of my intended husband I had with the sanction of the law taken his name. I will not trouble you with my agonies only I will say that until the present moment I have not yielded to the diabolical man who wished to make me break my promise by tempting me with a fortune. I was supported in this determination by a sum of money that was left me by a living uncle. Twelve years have rolled by since then, and I have been true to my promise. Unfortunately, time has hardened me. the money left me has gone, and the not very pleasant prospect of poverty is staring me in the face. I was 26 when the fiendish will was made, I am 38 now. If I look older attribute it to my troubles. At least, you will understand why I call myself Mrs Glaye, and why I adopted a fellow-woman to share my lone- liness, (To be continued.)

AMMAN VALLEY LIBERAL ASSOCIATION. The annual meeting of the above Association was held at the New Bethel Vestry, Cwmamman, under the pr under the presidency of Mr John Harries, Bryn- amman, on Friday evening, for the purpose of electing the local officers, as well as the delegates for the district on the Council of the East Carmar- thenshire Liberal Association. The following resolutions were unanimously passed :—The Rev J. Oliver was elected president, Councillor W. N. Jones treasurer, and the Rev J. Towyn Jones was re-elected secretary. The thanks of the Associa- tion were tendered to Mr John Harries, Mr John John, and the Rev Towyn Jones for their services during the past year as chairman, treasurer, and secretary respectively. The last year's list of dele- gates was adopted for next year—the name of Councillor W. N. Jones being inserted instead of that of Mr Griffith Vaughan, Tycroes, deceased. The following resolutions were passed :— That we notice with gratitude the marked improve- ment in the conduct of our Parliamentary representa- tive since his visit last autumn to the upper part of the constituency, but at the same time that we deem it our bounden duty to ask for a clear declaration before the general election whether he intends in the future, as in the past, to thwart the noble and self-sacrifidnff efforts of our national reformers to forward the prin- ciples of temperance and Liberalism, by pleading in the interest of private speculations and otherwise" for the granting of intoxicating liquors' licences at the brewster sessions. That we tender our heartiest thanks to our secretary, the Rev J. Towyn Jones, for his heroic voicing of our most sincere convictions during the past year, and that we condemn every effort made by outsiders to mislead the public, by means of false statements in the Pres- as to his real position among the Amman Valley Liberals. That we rejoice in the fact that three members of the Association (Dr Howell Kees, J.P., Councillor W. N. Jones, and Councillor Henry Herbert) were re- turned unopposed in the month of March last to the Carmarthenshire County Council for three County Council seats within the Amman Valley District. That Mr Conybeare's Bill to prohibit the giving and selling of intoxicating liquors to children under 16 years of age has our heartiest approval, and that wo trust our Parliamentary representative will lend it his valuable support on Wednesday next. Having passed a vote of thanks to the Chair- man for presiding, one of the best meetings of the Association since its formation was brought to a close.

SCHOOL TEACHERS' EXAMINATIONS. Local Successes. The class list of teachers in elementary schools examined for certificates at Christmas, 1891, bag been issued. Below we give a list of successful local candidates :— SCHOOLMASTERS.—Candidates examined on first year's =.-First Division.—John W. Jones, Higher Grade Board, Ystrad, Ystradyfodwg. Third Division. Wiiliaia Dicks, Severn Tunnel, Portskewett; Morgan Jones Dowlais Board John T. Richards, Radnor-road Board, Cardiff John M. Samuel, Wood-street Board Cardiff. SCHOOLMISTRESSES. Candidates examined on second year's papers-First Division.—Mary A. Williams, Crwys-road, Board, Cardiff. Candidates examined on first year's papers.—Second Division — Gwen Owen, Abercani Board, Mynyddislwyn. Third Division. Ada Cole, Danygraig Board, Swansea; Elizabeth A. Davies, Rutland-street Board, Swansea Joan Davies, Pante-, Board, Ystalyfera. Ijlangnicke Maggie Davies, Hirwain Board, Aberdare Rose Davies, Marshes-road Board, Newport Eleanor A. Evans, Ystalyfera, Paitleg Board, Llanguicke Sarah Evans, Brynhyfryd Board, Swansea; Emily R. Gardiner, Soudley Mixed Board, Forest of Dean; Sarah A. Gray, Lakefield-road Board, Llanelly • Harriet H. Gregory, Brynhyfryd Board, Swansea; Gwen M. Griffiths, Morriston, Pentre-Porth Beard, Swansea, U.D. Maud Haines, Dyfatty Board, Swan- sea Kate D. Humbleton, Panteg Wern, N. Martha James, Dowlais Board Lucy E. Jenkins, Brynhyfryd Board,Swansea;Margaret John,Morriston Board,Swan- sea U.D. Jenny Jones, Bolt-street Board, Newport; Mary E. Jones, St. White's Board, Dean Forest; Mary M. Jones, Wharf Industrial. Tredegar, Newport; Eliza A. Lewis, Copper Works Board, Hafod Charlotte Morgan, Cmmiin Board, Mynyddislwyn; Florence S. Perry, Aberdybarthi-street Board, Swansea; Hannah Rees, Llangyfelach Board, Swansea; Angela Robert- son, Danygraig R.C., Swansea; Kate Taggart, Marshes-road Board, Newport; Kleauor M. Thomas, Brynmawr Board, Llanelly; Florence H. White, Newport-on-Usk, N. Ellenora A. Williams, Alexandra Board, Newport; Marian H. Williams, Morriston Board, Swansea, U.D.

SOUTH WALES LIBERAL FEDERATION. Meetings at Carmarthen and Llanelly. Already a large number of replies have been received to the preliminary invitation to attend these meetings, and other replies are expected in the course of a few days. The proceedings at Llanelly on Monday, the 23rd inst., will include an all-day conference of Liberals of South Wales and Monmouthshire, and a great Liberal meeting J in the evening. At Carmarthen on the following day thero will also be a conference and public meeting. The agenda for the Conference is not an extended one, but comprises resolutions on the •Newcastle Programme, Welsh Disestablishment, land the anti-Tithe War. Dr Spence Watson, of ^Newcastle, the President of the National Liberal Federation, will attend, and the meetings .will also be addressed by Messrs Arthur J. Williams, ALP., D. A. Thomas, M.P., Lloyd Morgan, M. P., W. Pritchard Morgan. M.P., .Major Evan B. Jones, and Baron A. J. Profumo. Favourable replies from other Welsh members are anticipated. The following also have-I accepted invitations to be present:-Messrs J. Howell Rees, J.P., Garnant; Morgan Evans, J.P., chairman Cardiganshire County Council; Beryn Rees, J.P., St. Dogmel's Abraham Thomas, J.P., Llansamlet; R. D. Burnie, Swan- sea; Isaac Evans, miners' agent, Skewen; Coun- cillor Howell, Pyle; John Griffiths, Porth; D. Oliver Edwards, Haverfordwest; Enoch Davies, Llandyssul; Gwilym Evans, Llanelly; Win, Howell, Llanelly; Ismael Harris, Aberdare; H. A. Jeremy. Abergwili; W. R. Thomas, Maesteg; Thomas Hughes, Ebbw Vale Jeremiah Williams, Llanelly; Principal Edwards, B.A., Pontypool; Alderman Rev A. Davies, Pont- lottyu; Rnv Edward Roberts, D-D., Ponty- Pridd; Rev J. Foulkes, Aberavon; Rev D. Glyn Davies, Glyn Neath Rev Morris Morgan, Swansea; Rev W. Thomas, C.A., Whitland; and Alderman Rocke, Swansea. Tickets for the conferences will be obtainable during this week from Liberal secretaries or from Mr Richard N. Hall, 53, Queen-street, Cardiff.

NEWPORT BOARD OF GUARDIANS. The weekly meeting of the Newport Board of Guardians was held at the workhouse on Saturday, the vice-chairman, Mr T. Datfield, presiding, The bouse inmates numbered 324-, and Elizabeth Moxley, 55, Newport, and Robt. Beale, 77, Risca, died during the week. The Local Government Board wrote approving the grant of £ 10 to Dr De Gruchy, the medical officer of CaerleonSchools for additional services rendered during tbo recent epidemic of scarlet fever and influenza at the schools, and the higher board asked what steps "^d been taken on the report of tho medical officer as to the inadequate provision for dealing with infectious diseases at the schools. ^■"6 action of the Guardians with reference drainage was approved. The letter was referred to the Schools Committee.—A com- munication was received from the Barton Regis union, Btattng that the widow of the lato Mr J obn Hughes, bookseller, who carried on business in Commercial-road, Newport, for a number of years, had applied for relief from that Union.— 1 he clerk was ^requested to write to the Local Government Board asking for an anawer to the Government Board asking for an anawer to the communication with reference to the appointment of medical officers, the Guardians having,declined to make life appointments.

l.HB'editor of the Medical Annual alter a care- r ful exannmition of C^bury-g Cocoa, pronounces it to |l»oth afoodaad beverage of the highest quality MMO '< TOBACCONISTS COMMSKCING.—IMLGUUIS, 3CR. —'lobcooniastrf- Outfitting Co. 186, Euston-rd: £ ondon"

LABOUU ITEM.— Doing anything now. Bill?' "Oh, yes, I'm kept busy all the tune." "Ah, glad to hear it. What are you doing?" "Looking for a job." No D AX GEE.—" I am afraid," said a person of questionable, or unquestionable, habits, that I am likely to have water upon the brain," You will never have it upon the stomach," was the companion's consolatory reply. CONVERSATION ANALYZED.—Nephew That's not the morning paper you have there, uncle, is it ? Uncle (testily) What a disgraceful young booby you are, John. First you tell a stupid lie and then you ask an idiotic question." CORRECT ENOUGH.—" Look here, Squildig," exclaimed McSwilligen, this morning. Well ?" I thought you told me this was going to be an open winter." I did, and it is still open— open for business, too. What's the matter with you AN EXPLANATION.—" I have never given you credit for knowing very much, madam," said a blunt old bachelor, "but-" Sir," she inter- rupted, Do you wish to insult "But." he continued, I have always admired your grace and beauty." I will accept your apology," said the lady. PHARMACKUTICAL ITEM.—" Have you the Fatal Mist^ce ?' asked a girl, as she stepped into a book swre. No, miss," replied the clerk, you will get that at the drug store." The drug store," said the maiden in astonishment. Yea, that is where they give you morphine for quinine." HE WAS VERY YOUNG.—The class in meteor- ology at the University of Texas was up for examination. "Has the mean temperature fallen off during the past three centuries ?" asked Pro. fessor Snore. Student: I can't remember any- thing that happened so far back. I only entered the university last year. NOT so ABSENT-MINDED AFTER ALL.—First Sneak Thief: Threp times last winter did I forget my overcoat in the restaurants. Second Sneak Thief: But you were always elegantly dressed, nevertheless. First Sneak Thief When I forgot and left my overcoat, in my absent-mindednes3, I always went off with somebody elses. His LITTLE SCHEME.—Elder Brother (who has to do the work for the family): Ed., did I hear you say the other day that you wished you knew how to milk a cow ? Younger Brother Yes. Elder Brother (benignly): Well, if you will black my shoes for me I will let you milk tho cow to-night. The arrangement was made and performed. No EXTRA CHARGE.—Collector: Won't you subscribe something to our fund, Mr Brief 1 Lawyer: Have you asked Bronson? No.' Well, I'd advise you to ask Bronson. He'll give you something handsome." "But your subscription?" Oh—I ? Oh, yes. Well, I won't charge you anything for my advice about Bronson. Good morning." ELOQUENT SILENCE.—He I am going to make you a present of a dozen teaspoons for your birth- day. Which do you prefer, gold or silver ?—She is silent.—He: Well, which do you want, Fanny? —She is silent some more.—He Why don't you talk up? I ask you which do you prefer, silver or gold ?—She: Don't you know, you fool, that speech is silver and silence is gold. FEMALE CONSISTENCY.—Husband of ^Literary* Woman: How are you coming on with your magazine article?—Wife I've got it almost finished.—Husband: t is it about?—Wife: It denounces the extr^igance in dress of our modern women.—Husband What are you going to do with the money you get from it ?—Wife: I am saving up to buy a sealskin sacque. A conceited Texan got an itinerant portrait painter to paint the portrait of himself holding a favourite as?, and when the job was finished he invited a friend to inspect it. After carefully examining it the friend said, It is a capital portrait, but who is that holding you by the bridle?" The friends do not speak now, and the portrait is consigned to oblivion. A PKETENDEH.—During a sham fight Napoleon came unawares upon a soldier who was lying fast asleep in a field among the corn. "Is jhis your post?" exclaimed the Emperor, rousing him with the full intention of making an example of him. The soldier, thus suddenly startled out of his slumber, rubbed his eyes and, on recognising the Emperor, sprang to his feet, presented arm". and said "I begiyour Majesty's pardon, but we were going through a sham fight, and. in order to make the illusion more complete, I was pretending to be dead." Napoleon could not suppress a smile, and forgave the witty lineman. SUFFICIENT REASON.—The world has made .astonishing progress within the Jast fifty years, but it is still hard to accomplish what is impossi- ble. Mr Blank is examining his portrait which has just been painted by Professor Fuillemont from Paris. "Professor," he says, "I don't know how it is, but neither you nor any other artist whom I have met have been able to catch the expression of my face." The painter shrugs his shoulders and lifts his eyebrows. Ah, Meester Blank, zat is varay true but eef zee expression ees not zare, how can you catch him ?" AN ACTOR'S READY WIT.—Tony Lee, a player in King Charles II.'s reign, was performing in a. tragedy in which the character he impersonated was slain. Having a violent cold, he could not" forbear coughing as ho lay dead on the stage, which occasioned a good "deal of laughing and noise in the house. Lifting his head, and speaking to the audience, he said :—" This makes good what my poor mother used to tell me—for she often said I should cough in my grave, because I used to drink my porridge." This set the house in such good humour that he was readily pardoned for the blunder be had committed. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.—" I understand," re marked the polite reporter^ to the close-mouthed manager of a western railroad noted for its poor time, that there was an accident on your road last night." Oh, do you ?" was the sarcastic reply. Yes, sir." Do you know anything about it ?" Only that it happened to the train which was due here at 8.15." That train came in promptly on time, sir," said the manager firmly. Are you sure of that ?" Oi course I am." Thanks. That must have been the acci- dent referred to." And the reporter dodged out safely. ALMOST A HINT.—They were walking under a -very little umbrella, and she liked well enough not to want a large spread of alpaca. He was modest, and seemed to be nervous, and she finally remarked very softly, and with a note of interro- gation, "Charley. I'll carry the umbrella if you will let me." Oh, no I can carry it." Yes, Charley, but you see your arm takes up so much room that one side of me is out in the wet." I know, Fannie, but what will I do with my arm ? Won't it be in the way all the same ?" "I don't know, Charley. Tom Clark always knows what to do with his arm when he is under an umbrella with Mary Martin, because Mary told me so." DEFINITE DIRECTIONS.—Where time is not money, ideas of distance are always uncertain and frequently confusing. About how far is it to Gourdvilie ?" *asked a stranger of a North Carolinian, who sat on the verandha, holding up the front side of his shabby house. Two hoots an' a look, I reckon," was the laconic reply. Well, how far is that ?" queried tho stranger impatiently. Twict as fur as yo' kin holler an' as fur as yo' kin see beyond that." "But I'm consumptive and can't holler' at all," urged the traveller. How am I to tell anything from such a direction as that ?" Better Jcok twicet an' not holler at all," was the answer. "Gourdville ain't wuth hollerin' about, nohow." OIL BATHS FOR LEAD PENCILS.—A new dis- covery has been made by railroad clerks in Pittsburg regarding the saving of lead pencils. This will be a. great boon to those who are con- tinually using expletives and borrowing pocket knives on account of the frailty of good soft l*»d in a pencil. Everyone who has much rapid writing to perform prefers a soft pencil, f>ut nothing has come to public light so far by which the lead can to any extent be preserved. The P. C. C. and St. L. clerks have brought about a new era in the pencil business; also have they morally benefited humanity, inasmuch as they decrease violation of the third commandment. The new idea to preserve a soft pencil is to ■ take a gross of the useful articles and place them in a jar of linseed oil. Allow them to remain in soak until the oil thoroughly permeates every particle of tho wood and lead. This has the effect of softening tho mineral, at the same time leaking it tough aud durable. lfc has been found very useful and saving, an ordinary pencil being used twice as long under the new treatment. YES OR No."—DO you think, then, that the defendant was in the right?" asked a young lawyer of a elderly and cautious witness at the court- house on Friday. Well, were it not that Come, come," interrupted the lawver. We have had enough of wells and buts.' I asked you a plain question. I want a plain answer Was he right ? Yes or no ?" I reany caimofc reply yes or no to such a question. Either answer would be misleading. You see 1- Do you mean to say, sir," stormed the lawyer, working himself into a great state of indignation, that you could frame a question to which I could not reply yes or no ? Certainly I could," said the old gen" tleman, quietly. Then let us hoar it," said the man of law, turning with a smile of incredulity to the judge and the jury. "By all means let us hear it." Calmly the old gentleman settled his eye-glasses on his nose. and, leaning on the edge of the witness-box, he regarded the lawyer for a second or two. "Will you tell us," he asked very deliberately, whether, in your own opinion-in your own opinion, mind you—I cannot conceive anyone else entertaining the siightestdoubt what- soever on the matter—whether you are as big a fool as you look ?" When the roar of laughter from bench, bar, jury, and spectators at the young j lawyer's dilemma had died away, the latter wast heard to faintly, intimatethat he had finished wittrv the witness.

Y GOLOFN GYMREIG. Dymunir i'n gohebwyr Cymreig gyfeirio eu gohe- iaethau, llyfrau i'w hadolygu,&c., fel y canlyn: Dafydd Morganwg, Morganvyj House, Llantu'it- street, Cardiff.

Y LLYGAD. Eirianol ffenestr enaid-yw llygad. Lliwgar wydr bendigaid; Lwys organ wiwlan delaid,— Haul pen, oleua heb baid. Penygraig. AWENFRYN,

RHOD Y FELIN. Morwyn hardd a mirain yw—dan y dwr A'i dbn deg digyfryw Odiaeth olwyn fawr ydyw, Er malu i borthi'r byw. Trecastle. D. AP DEWI.

Y GWESTY. Magwrfa gloddest yw'r gwesty—'strywgar, Dost rwygol ffos cchrys Troell i boen trwy wyllbyst,—- Rhwyd i anian a dinystr. Alltwen. URBANUS,

YR YMHONWR. Un sieryd yn glasurol!—ac arwr Llwngc eiriau chwyddiadol, Yw y truan hunanol Anwar ei ttyrdd-honwr ffol. Alltwen. URBANUS.

CREDADYN. Y ser a'u llewyrch claer Fel geinau gwyndeg sydd, Oddiar y nefol gaer, Cyn agor dor y dydd. Yn llanw'r byd ag harddweh byw, Gan fritho'r nef fel rhos,— Yn seinio mawl, ond dyn nis clyw, Ar dawel fron y nos Ond barddach yw'r Credadyn ca Na cheinion fyrdd y ser diri'. Y blodeu yn y glyn, A'u perarogledd byw. Hyfrydwch yw'r rhai hyn- Barddoniaeth nefol yw A'u gwenau myg fel engyl gIAn Yn creu hedd a mwynhad Yn lloni'r lie mae'r adar man— Pencerddiaid natur fad: Ond mil melusach imi yw Hardd wen a sam hoff Blentyn Duw„ Dan heulwen canol dydd, Mor hardd yw gwisg y ddol, Gobeithion nefol sydd Ar hyd y maes yn gol;/ Prydferthwch, fel yn don ar don, Yn llifo dros y wlad, Yn gwisgo harddwch Eden Ion— Mae'r ddaear mewn mwynhad Ond ceinach yw'r Credadyn olyd, Na boll brydferthweh byw y byd J Yr awel sydd yn dwyn Hyfrydwch meusydd Duw; Tynervvch llawn o swyn, Mor her. mor nefol yw, Yn plygu brig yr uchaf bren, o ryw y dderwen gref; Ac heb anghofio'r lili wen— Blodeuyn gwyn y nef,— Tynerach yw'r Credadyn pur Na'r awel rydd sy'n tramwy'r tift Yn rhol y cyniyl man Gogoniant bythol dJaw, Pan fyddo'r haul yn dân 0 flaen y g-awod wlaw; Ac enfys byw o gylch ei rudd, Cyfamod Duw â. dyn, Sef un o gestyll cedyrn 1Iydd- Magwrfa'r Net ei hun: Ond mwy ardderchog yw yrhw3 Sy'n codi'i lef o dan ei bwn. Pan ddelo'r Ynad mawr I neuadd bur y farn, Ei wedd fydd fel y wawr, A'r byd i gyd yn sarn, Yn ufudd weision ar eu hynt Bydd cngyl Duw i gyd,— Cynnulliad mawr rhyfeddol 'ynt, Cyfarfod oIa'1' byd Ond plentyn Duw fydd yno'n iacb, Yn chwarsu'a Hon fel plentyn bach. Taibach. REES LLEWELYN.

DDIRWESTWYR DEWCR I'R MAES. Draw mae'r faner wen yn chwifio, Gwersyll Sobrwydd sydd mewn cyffroj Clywch mae corn y gad yn seinicr- Filwyr dewch i'r maes Codwn lef yn erbyn meddwdod, Argyhoeddwn deulu'r ddiod, Er cae] pawb i lvvyrymwrthod Filwyr, dewch i'r maes! Chwahvn hen garcharau Bacchus hyd eu seiliau Mwy nis gwelir un o'r rhai'ii Yn anwyI Wlad v Bryniau. Gyrwn feddwdod i ddiddymdra, Sobrwydd yn ei Ie deyrnasa, Caethion Bacchus ga'nt ddiangfa; Filwyr, dewch i'r maes Awn yn mlaeii, er pob rhyw aflwydd, Ein arwyddair mwy fydd Sobrwydd, Ymgyrhaeddwn at berffeithrwyddb Filwyr, dewch i'r maes! Er fod Bacchus fawr a'i fyddin Yn llu nerthol yn ein herbyn, Mynwn jsroiigcwest ar y gelyn Filwyr, dewch i'r maes! Cydunwn bawb fel brodyr, Wyr ieuainc ac henafgwyr— Arwyr Dirwest oil yn un, Na safed dyn yn segur. Meddwdod sydd yn difa'n rhengau, Ac yn gyru i'r carcharau Wrth y rniloadd Blant y Bryniau; ] llwyr, dewch i'r maes Tonyrefail. H. J. DAVIES.

BILLY FAIR PLAY. Yinholaf yn fanwl i ddechrau, Beth ddarfu i Shon Chware Teg, :f n'n pwyso a mesur trwy'r oesau n Agbyuiru heb unrhyw oer reg, Nes dariu l r Saeson ymsangid Dros ffiniog Glawdd Offa i'n gwlad, I w droi ef o i swydd a'i holl ryddid, Drwy erchyll hir gyllyll eu brad ? Ac wedi i farwolaeth lofruddiog, Rho'wd Billy Fair Play ar ei sedd, I weini cyfiawnder unochrog, Gan ffafrio y tlawd fel y bedd; Gwr canol rhwng meistr a gweithiwr Bwriadwyd i Billy i fad, Mor onest ag ambell gyfreithiwr I'w hunan dry'r elw a'r clod. Ger PyUau Glofaol yn Nghymru Cywilydd yw iddo roi'i droed, Ac anhawdd yw deall sut darfu Ein gtowyr ei oddef erioed, I'w speilio mor ddi dderbyn wyneb o chwyslyd enniUion eu hoes, Tra'n dangos mor llawn o gywirdel:1 A'r diafol, hen dad yr hit groes. Ond wele, o'r diwedd, ei daro Ga'dd Billy, bron. bron Idd ei fedd Gan Shon Chware Teg, sy'n fyw etd o blaid ein hiawnderau a'n hedd Caed Billy yn euog o ladrad, A bellach bydd rhaid talu iawn I'r glowr, a chwyno yn anfad Mae'r meistri anfoddog yn llawn. Bedwas. Dewi AUJf,

One Question too Many. The story is told of an American lawyer, who was prosecuting a, burglar. Tha burglar's wife was 011 the witness titnd, lld the prosecuting attorney was conducting a vigorous cross'-exami* nation "Madam, you are the wife of this man ?" "Yes." You know he was a burglar when you married him ?" "Yes." How did you come to contract a matrimonial alliance with fiuch a man ?" Wei! the witness said, sarcastically, I was getting old, and I had to choose between a lawyer and a burglar." The cross-examination ended there. Her Own Vocabulary. A certain Maine woman who has plenty of dollars but a very hazy idea of English ortho- graphy, returned from a visit to New York recently. Said she to a friend— Oh, I had such a perfectly lovely time, every- thing was so convened, you know. We stopped in a house where we rode up to our room in a refrigerator, and I always had my washing done I at the foundry right there in the house. It was I awful nice. Then there wasn't no stove and no clutter in the rooms. There was one of these legislaters right in the floor and the heat poured right up through." How did it happen that you came back so quickly ?" well, you see Sairy didn't have no appertite. I had the hardest work to get her anything that she could realise. Honestly, when I got her home she was almost a individual." Perhaps it was this woman's husband who said: Hen Peters got killed this morning and ther corner has just gone out to hold an insect 011 ———— Poor Bruin. A party of hunters on the Florida coast caro9 suddenly upon a bear prowling about a beach, and gravely inspecting such articles as war" brought up by the waves, which were richer than usual in plunder, from the fact that there had recently been a severe storm. The author of Wild Sports in the South" thus describes Bruin's treatment of the wreckage:— He would first look at an article, then smell it, touch it with his paw, and finally, after de- liberately seating himself, with his hind legs pro- jectmg m front, turn his head on one side, and try to crack his new acquisition with his teeth. The burlesque gravity of his manner was in* describable. He throw away a cocoanut, as being too hard to chew, ate an orange with great satisfaction, and presently discovered a small cask. which he en- deavoured to open. By dint of much biting he enlarged the bung-hole so that he could insert paw then he held the cask on one arm, and keplJ the other paw busy in rapid journeys thence to hi* mouth." But this method of getting at the contents did not satisfy him, and presently, standing erect, on his hina feet, he inserted his nose in the barrel, and then his head. Now, a bear's nose is so sharp that it goes through a small place very easily i but owing to the heavy folds of skin about the neck, and the fact that the hair and ears are set backward, it does not possess the same facility for coming out." Bruin was fast. He began to pull back, but as he pulled the barrelg came with him, and as h6 rolled on his back, pawing ineffectually at its convex sides, it merely revolved about his had, as if it were on a pivot. Then, alarmed by the sound of our laughter, he took fright and ran, wearing the cask on his head like a helmet." Up the hill he rushed, lost all sense of direc, tion, and rolled head over heels squarely among us. Picking himself up, he reared, and began growling and waving his paws, but was speedily released by one of the negroes, who broke tha barrel with a. blow from his club, and scattered the mackerel with which it had been filled. "The bear rewarded him for his service with » blow of the paw, which laid him on the sands, and in another second he was himself stretched there by the discharge of two rifles." Dawning of a New Industry. Attorney Describe as nearly as you can the assault the prisoner made on you. Witness He threw his arm about my neck, shutting off my wind. Then ha pulled off my overcoat, a. heavy fifst-class garment made by Ratchett and Haycroft, No. 46, Scully-avenue, of the very best material and workmanship Never mind that. What did he do next ?" M Best overcoat I ever had, and cost me only- Confine yourself to the facts of the case, if you please." Yes, sir. Cost me 34 dollars. They're giving 10 per cent. off for cash. Then he relieved me of my watch. It was a gold hunting-case timepiece, full-jewelled, stem-winder and stem-settsr You needn't describe the watch." No, sir. I got it of Bombshell and Company# No. 344, Pulsifer-place. Best watch I ever owned; and cost me only All this is immaterial. I want only the faotS pertaining to the robbery." "That's what I'm giving you. Cost me only 16.50 dollars, and they've got a whole sho\V.oaso. full of them. Then he took my pocket-book, oon- tainiag 26 dollars, all bills, and a deed in a piece of land in Hyde Park drawn up by-" I don't care to hear anything about that." "No, sir. Drawn up by Mulligatawny, the real estate agent at-" Once again, sir, I ask you to confine yourself to the facts of the assault," sir. At No. 69, Soup-alley. of all kinds executed promptly and loans nego- tiated on desirable real estate at the most reason* able rates. Then he left me a.nd ran off without taking my hat. which was an elegant silk one made 11y-" "Hold on I don't Made by Pomfret and Slack, corner of Blue- street and Commercial-alley, 5 dollars, best I evet wore. Ho failed also to get my shoes, which were "Your honour, I insist that this witnes* shall Made by Demoss and Ingraham, No. 27, Lorsteon-street, cost 8 dollars, of the best kangaroo leather, and good enough for a king. That's] all I know about it." At how much do you estimate the money value of your loss by this lobbery ?" (With visible reluotance) "I'm ahead 50 dollars." Not Moved to Pity. "Madam," said tha tramp, as he put his foot inside the door, which the housewife had opened to his knock, and had begun to shut again soon as she saw him, I am not a beggar I ain an inventor. I have discovered a simple process by which the odour which onions spread through your comfortable and elegant home while they being cooked can be entirely prevented." "Yes, well?" I have spent a. great deal of money, madans* in experimenting towards this end, but nyw thl I have found it, I am no greedy monopolist. will part with this invaluable secret for a s111"IJ consideration." "Yes, well?" "If I am not mistaken, madam," he said, sniffing the air in an impartial manner, you ate cooking those over-fragrant but nourishing vegetables at the present moment." Yes, well ?" Most people object to the odour. I presuSQf. you are with the majority on that point, madam • "Yes, well ?" "I judge by your manner, madam, that yoU are unwilling to part with the ready cash for my invention ?" Yes, well?" As I said before, I am no monopolist. I w-in tell it, I will even tarry and instruct you in use, for one dish of those onions, madam," and he wiped his mouth with a dirty hand, and tried to get his other foot inside the door, but the woman held it fast. I perceive that you do not want my invention at al', madam," he said, in a deeply injured tone, that you do not appreciate it, that my effort to relieve humanity of the offensive odour 0 onions has been wasted entirely, as far as you are concerned." Yes, well" "Madam, when I began to experiment for deodoriser, I was a wealthy man. a respected OItI- zen, an office-holder, and the father of a happY family." "Yee, well?" Sparing neither time nor money in the pur suit of the welfare of my race, I failed in busl" nese." "Yes, well?" "Worn out with the struggles to keep up respectable appearance, my wife, the faithfu partner of my joys and sorrows, was called to het reward," and hesnufBed plaintively. "Yes, well?" "Then a blight seemed to fall on my litfcl* brood, and one by ons they drooped and died." Yes, well ?" Next I was left an orphan." Yes, well ?" And then iny mother-in-—" Y e, well ?" My—madam, your cold and unfeeling manne1 chills in me all the instincts uf a gentleman. have seldom, in telling my sad storv, got beyond my wife's death without the offer of substantia* assistance but you have let me run through JJJÝ entire family a.nd get mixed up with my mother- in law, and still have given me only that one stereotyped reply." Yes, well ?" this—•— and ho threw his wholit weight suddenly against the door. The WOlna.Ø was not expecting it, and she gave way. In jlG instant the tramp was in the hall, looking fit for murder. But she did not quail. tell you what I'll do," she said. I 9X0 the champion woman jumper of the county—tak^ all the prizes at the fa;rs and picnics—and I ct. jump further than most men. Now, I'll bet the best dinner my kitchen can afford, including onions, against your deodorising invention, I can jump further than you from off the door" step." Done," said the tramp. You jump first," said the woman, and ju,15P as hard as yon can, for I warrant you I can co^'e lots of ground." The tramp doub'ed up his ragged knees, SWUI1 his long arms, and jumped, bursting off his ouI-" suspender button, and landing about eight feeu outside the door. When he turned he t}J double-barrelled shotgun in the hands of omon-cooker, and as she covered him with J*j without a quiver of her muscles, he departs0 swiftly, taking his unuttered secret with bUD.