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SPOTS OF THE LEOPARDESS. A NOVEL. [Written for the Sunday Un-iov by Gale Bralth.] chapter" vii. I was always a firm believer in instinct —natural impulse. Instinct is a great gift, too slightly appreciated and loosely culti vated. And lam satisfied that half tbe troubles and crosses of life could beavert ed by following our guardian angel ill s'., net, for, believe mo, it controls our minds and actions to a universal extent. For instance, how often do we meet in our pathway through life with one who, for some ununown reason, a shuddering sense of dislike, fear, danger or repulsion overwhelm us? All animals, dogs in particular, possess this marvelous gift. Why not we, superior animals? And, be lieve me, when your first instinct warns you against one, beware! Perhaps, sooner or later, you may change your minu in regard to the object of your aver sion. Ah, and probably be willing to acknowledge as a joke or wrong your first impression. Tako my advice, don't. Your first impression, in nine cases out of ten, is the correct one. Mind, there are exceptions in all cases, but not often in this. Tbo person fox whom you con ceive this instinctive dislike is quick to road your feelings, -md with a keen in '-. sight, naturally makes a strong endeavor to disabuse your mind. Human nature i.s a grand and deep , study. Selfishness, forming tho main i spring; deceit, following close upon its bcels. We mankind are a great and noble race —great and noble in our own estimation. Live and do right; yes, but it io so much easier, and frequently more pleasant, to do wrong. We are placed In this globe with vague warnings and threats from our infancy. We are for ever seeking—vainly, blindly searching —for the unattainable, pondering, as generations before us have forever done. We are put on this earth with our na tures, the good and the evil, tho evil pre dominating. What else could be expected but that tho vast majority should be weighed In the balance of supreme jus tice and be found wanting? Wbo is to blame—we poor miserable sinners, or the power which placed us thus? But I must pause, ere I am accused of blasphemy. So bo it. I will return to my former theme, "Instinct." Shun the person whom your instinct warns you against; it is seldom erroneous, and it was to this grateful gift I owed my dislike to Miss Tarrant, and will call to your remem brance what I remarked upon the morn ing Sir Lionel received the yellow envel ope. The foreboding I experienced, and the indescribable feeling 1 had upon see ing her, were undeniably true. My in- ■ Btincl i-tunc to my assistance, warning me loud and strongly against her, whose' frightful beauty was leading Sir Lional mad and sending Lady Dora to the grave.' I was aroused from a troubled slumber by a quick shooting pain. I had lightly and brokenly dronued of a toothache, and awoke, alas! to find it a stern reality. Tho night was far advanced, I knew, be cause upon retiring a bright blaze burned , warmly in the grates, and now the embers wero quite dead, coid and cheer less. I laid my aching face against the pillow, hoping to thus stop the sharp, grinding pain. I turned and turned in misery, until neither temper nor endurance could stand it longer. And remembering bear ing Mrs. Duulap speak of a positive euro which sho possessed, I jumped from tbe bed and hastily thrusting my stocking less feet into a pair of worsted slippers, and quickie slipping into a dressing gown, wrapped a warm woolen scarf—the gifi of Lady Dora—tightly around my head and face, took a chamber candle and quickly descended the stairs, nervously dreading to pass through the library, which by this time must be in total darkness. Thence, by passing through two or threo smaller rooms, I could reach tbo house keeper's apartments. But upon my ar rival at the library door, 1 was the least bit 1 tartled to see a faint glimmer through the heavy oaken door, standing partly ajar. Sir Lional's study was directly off the library, and I instantly concluded he bud remained up to read, or, perhaps, to do a little writing. At any other timo I would have returned ; but my tooth kept mo in consiaut torture, so, drawingalong breath, which almost lifted the roof of my mouth, I boldly entered, fully expecting to find the study door open. But, no; the door was closed, and the light was re flected from a small taper burning dimly upon tbe long wide table in the center of the room, instantly a fear of burglars darted across my imagination, aud 1 in terror fully expected to feel a gag in my mouth, or, worse still, a pistol pointed tit my heart or forehead. I stood trembling j with night, my knees bending and shak ing beneath me. A heinous horror tak ing possession of all my senses, visions of knives, masks and pistols were real istically portrayed in my distorted fancy. Quaking, I glanced cautiously around, and then my eyes rested upon something white, lying a few feet from the heavy velvet curtains which separated tho li bra i y from the drawing-room. I advanced a step, rendered almost des perate with fright, paused, and then mustering courage by the exercise of superhuman will power, I took another step, and then started suddenly forward. For it was Lady Dora in her"nightrobc Stretched unconscious upon the crimson carpeted floor. What has happened, and why is s!n here? are the thoughts which flashed iii lightning-like rapidity through nn brain. What shall Ido ? Liko a flash my In stinct warned mo to act, and mako no Artery. I knelt upon the thick rug by h •:* side, and then suddenly remember ing that In the next room was a decanter of wine, I sprang to my feet and rushed to the curtain. But paused, with the cor ner upraised in speechless shame and indignation. This, then, explained fully Lady Dora's swoon. I stood watching them in tbeir guilty stolen caresses with rage, then like a fury tearing at my heart, rage and hate for them, but love and a deep, overpowering pity for Lady Dora. Shuddoringly I dropped the acursed cirtain. "God, in His merciful kindness, help you dear," I sobbed. Then, with energy born of despair. I bore her slight form and laid it tenderly, reverently, upon tbe couch, and flaw straightway to summon Mrs. Dunlap, to whom I explained in as few words as possible what had occurred, aud between us we carried Lady Dora, still uncon scious, to her chamber. "Oh, Dunlap," 1 gasped, through my shaking lips, "ifwc could only contrive some miracle to let her believe"it was but a dream." "'Oh, dearie," said the old woman, "such dreams as these leave a deep scar upon the heart, which timo nor any act ran heal or conceal, poor pritty ! 'tis tbe ri« li, as well as the poor fold, do have their trials it seems." We bathed her forehead and forced a little wine between her tightly clenched tw th. Then the lashes fluttered and the eyes opened wide, with a look of un utterable pain and misery in the bluoness of then* depths. A sigh deep and long, then tnrowing her armsarouud my neck, je burst into a torrent of tears," which shook the debcate frame cruelly. I gently smoothed back the soft golden hair from the childish forehead. "Don't cry darling," I said, "it breaks my heart." '"'Let me cry, Olive," she sobbed, "or I shall go mad. How can I live? Mv life is ended. Strange! lam not dead, tor tbis night mv life ended." "No, no," I moaned, "you have re ceived a shock—a painful, cruel, shame ful shock, but you still live, you must live." At that moment little Cyral, whose nur sery adjoined bis mother's bed chamber, -.wakened, no doubt disturbed by the noise, and entered, rubbing his eyes" with two little round fists. He was a pretty qhild, but this night he looked sweetly tvtlorable, with his fair sunny curls rutn ried and tangled from the pillow, and the long night dress crumpled, and a tiny bit open at the throat, a faint flush of rose jan k upon either plump cheek. I lifted him quickly from the floor, and I laid him gently in Lady Dora's arms. "See, dear, your little son will console and comfort you. Bend your hopes upon him." "You know then?" "Yes. I raised tho curtain. I saw them. Take your sou by the band and lead him forth from this shame-blighted roof. Come, I will help you prepare. Nay, I will accompany you. I will never, never, desert you. Come, you cannot re main lougcr under this roof, which shel ters a harlot." She shook her head sadly. "No matter if my husband has forgotten his vows and forfeited his honor, no reason that I should do likewise," kissing the pretty matted curls. "For my son's dear sake I remain. And you, my dearest, truest triend, you will stay near mc. lam weak and helpless, and would fain have a few days of quiet." "Indeed I will do all in my power to assist you, so now try to sleep." 1 made a motion to take the child, who was slumbering again, with his head rest ing upon his fair young mother's white breast, and his little round dimpled arms encircling her pretty lull throat. "No, no," she whispered; "let him re main by my sido. I want to feel bis in nocent baby arms about me, and his little soft body against my aching heart." With a strange ache in my own hoart, I kissed her good night. CHAPTER" VIIL So things passed at Glandour Court, Lady Dora seldom leaving her apart ments. They were too much occupied with their own guilty lovo to heed or care to know the cause of her seclusion. One morniug Simpson, tho bead gar dener, notified Sir Lional tbat be had found a fawn dead ami terribly mangled, but by what, he knew not. "It looks like a wolf's work, your honor, but blessed if I know how a wolf or any other animal could get into tho park. The gates and all entrances are always fastened securely." His master gavo the man strict orders concerning tbo fences surrounding the park, and to take double precautions in the future, for tliese soft-eyed, gentle creatures wero Sir Lional's especial pride. "Examine every corner well. It must not happen again," he said. But, strange as it may seem, npon tho following morning Simpson again told Sir Lional tho same story; another fawn had been found mangled and dead. Sir Lional's anger was terrible to wit ness. He ordered every dog upon tho place shot. "Ob, pupa, papa," sobbed little Cyral, "don't shoot Trust. He is my very own. Grandpa gave hiui to me. He wouldn't hurt a fly. Please, papa, don"t." But Sir Lional was firm; every dog should die; nothing could alter that. The child sobbed, with his little wet cheek pressed against the dog's shaggy neck. "Oh, Trust," he moaned in his sweet baby voice, with his arms around the dog's noble head, "they are going to kill you. I know you never done anything bad, but I can't make them believe me, and you can't talk, poor Trust. I will try and be good, so I can meet you in heaven." Poor little fellow. The dog loooked up at the child with its great soulful oyos, sad with almost human intelligence "and licked the little hands aud fa.cc sorrow fully when the man drew him roughly away. "Come on here, you cur. It serves you right." "Don't you dare call him cur," cried tho child, springing to his feet, bis blue eyes blazing and his little fist tightly clenched. "You're a cur. I wish I was a man, I would kill you." and then quiv ering with rage he burst into childish tears. "Good-by, Trust, I cannot help you. lam so very sorry. Please don't blame mc, poor Trusty." The noble animal again licked the lear suiined face lovingly and his halt human eyes looked into bis young master's with a mute glance of appeal. The man again jerked the rope sharply, and with a pitiful howl, poor Trust was led to his fate. 1 held poor little Cyral in my arms. His grief was uncontrollable, as he placed his little fingers in his oars to deaden tbe sound of the fatal shot which robbed bim of a life-long friend and comrade. "They arc wicked. I hate them all." "Hush, dear," I said. "Surely you do not hate your papa; and yon know it is by his order this is to be done." "Yes, I do bate bim—worse than all tho rest." "My pet, you don't know what you are saying," I replied, shocked and grieved to hear him speak so. "Your mamma would feel dreadful to hear you say such naughty, wicked words. Surely you can not wish to make her sick again?" "No, no; poor mamma she would cry. She cries so much now. Nearly every night when I go to bed I hear her crying. Why does she cry, Miss Longnus? Now if she had Trust ami they killed him, she might have cause to cry, but—" "Ah, dear heart," I said brokenly, "she, too, had a Trust, and it was killed—cru elly, wickedly." The little fellow regarded me with puz zled eyes for a moment. "It can't be, Miss Longuus. I assure you you are mistaken. Mamma never owned but one dog in her life, and that was when she was a tiny little girl. It died, and she had it buried in suchabeau tiful grave. Its name was Fixie. Sue often speaks to me about him. He was not a large dog liko Trust, who you know is a very largo Newfoundland, but a very small Prince Charles. Since then she never cared to own another dog. So you see it must be v mistake. Besides, why should she wuit all this time to cry? She never used to cry. She never laughs now nor tells mo pretty stories. But it eun't be about the dog. However, I will ask ber." "No, no, dear, I cannot make you un derstand. Sometime you may knbw such things, but not now. Promise me you will not worry mamma by repeating any thing I have just said to you." Little Cyral grieved long and deeply over tho loss of his pet, until finally Sir Lional, who probably suffered a pang of remorse, promised him another—a fine Siberian bloodhound—with strict injunc tions. It must be chained up ut night. But the child never displayed tbe same loudness for this one as bo did for bis for mer friend and playmate. Lady Dora's health was growing stead ily worse day by day, until Sir Lional happening to notice it, sent to London for a famous young physician whose cures were said to be remarkable, and who, it appears, was a former classmate with Sir Lional at college. CHAPTER IX. I was a little startled and a deal annoyed one night hy Mollie, tho cook, rushing to my room in search of Mrs. Dunlap, and seemingly upon the very verge of an ejpileptic tk. "Oh, Miss Longnose! I have seen it. I am going to'die or faint," and straight way plumped her stout person into my light willow rocker, smashing it com pletely. "Seen what?" I demanded severely. "It," sho gasped, shaking with fright. "In the name of common sense what are you talking about?" I was growing terribly alarmed. It was lato, being long past 11 p. m.; and Mollie, I knew- was in the habit of in dulging in a little alcoholic spirits behind good Mrs. Dunlap's back, and I hastily jumped to the conclusion She was threat ened with delirium tremens. Her face was ashy pale, and the eyes almost started from their sockets. "Oh, Miss Longnose, I mean the thing that has been eating all the deer in tho park. A horrible yellow thing all spot ted with big round brown spots; and tbe most of all, miss, it frightened me to thi uk of it. Its bead—its head and eyes were like—" She stopped suddenly, and trembled so violently that every thing in the room commenced shaking and rocking. "For God's sake, Mollie," I cried, frantically, "what is it like? What was its bead like?" My terror was now al most as great as her own. "What was its head like? I repeated. "Like—" Then lookingovcr my shoul der she uttered a shrill, sharp scream and dropped from the chair to the floor liko a log. I sprang to my feet in terror, and turn ing my head beheld Miss Tarrant who had, evidently, paused in passing, to hear the cook's news. THE SUNDAY UN-TOX, SACRAMENTO, CAL., MABCH 8, 1891.-EIGHT PAGES. Miss Longifhs, why don't you order this woman off to bed? Don't you see she is intoxicated?" I could not dispute her words, as I was clearly under the same impression my self. "Still there may be some truth in what she says," I ventured. "Nonsense; she is drunk. Just bear ber snore." And sure enough she lay snoring, fast asleep, just where she had fallen. Miss Tarrant passed on, and I went in search of a couple of footmen to carry the cook to ber own quarters. But the next morning the servants went around with white, scared faces, and one by one they mysteriously gave warn ing to leave. It puzzled me not a little as they one and all gavo no reason for so doing, and tiiey were mostly long and faithfully-tried servants. It clapped the climax when old Ray mond, tne butler, tendered his resigna tion. There must be something wrong, surely. When questioned he sadly shook his gray head, saying he was too old for service. Sir Lional questioned him; nay, de manded an explanation. "Raymond, as a right I demand an ex planation. Your parents before you have served the Glandour loyal and true. Why are you leaving me thus, who has treated you more as a Iriend than serv ant? Come, you must tell me." Then the old man in his weak, tremb ling voice said: "Sir Lional, as you say, wo have served you true and faithfully nigh unto four generations. But things are not aa they should be at Olnadour. Something is wrong, fearfully wrong." Sir Lional's brow Hushed a deep, dark crimson. "What damned foolery are you talking? Havo a care. You may go toe far." "I mean nothing against your lord ship," said the old man, tears'of sorrow dimming his aged eyes and coursing down his furrowed checks. "But tho lawn in the park, sir." "Why, man, what bas that got to do with it?" heaving a sigh of relief. "A great deal, sir. We consider our lives in danger beneath this roof." "Are you an idiot, or what? Have I not had the dog shot tbat did the mis chief? What else can I do? Thero aro no more animals molested since then." "You ure mistaken, sir. There wero two killed last night, a doe and a fawn." "What?" roared Sir Lional. "I said, sir," repealed tho old man, "you aro mistaken. There wero two killed last night." I remembered like a flash what Mollie had told me the night before. Sir Lional sank into a chair. "This is infernal devilish. Why was I not informed soouer? Was the new dog loose?" "No, sir, safely chained up." And then the old man spoke in an awe-struck whisper. "Mollie, the cook, sir, swears that last night she saw tbe thing that done it." Sir Lional looked troubled. "Send tho woman to me tliis instant." Raymond turned and walked as fast as his tottering logs would carry him, and soon returned with the cook up to her ears in flour. She dropped a courtesy almost to the floor. Then Sir Lional asked: "What was it you saw in tho park last night, Mollie, my girl?" Mollie confusodl'y hung her head. "Sir Lional, I don't liko to complain, but it frightened me so I was most dead. You see, sir, I had been out spending the evening with Jane Malloy, a cousin of mine, sir. She had just been after hav ing her baby christened that same morn ing, sir; and being as she named it after me, sir," with another dip. "Mary Mag delene, sir," with a still deeper dip, "I thought it no more than right, sir, but what I should take it a bonnet or some thing, sir, for Sunday." "Yes, yes," impatiently, "but tell us just what you saw." •■"Tin coming to it, sir, fast as ever I can. Well, I came through tbe south gate—the small one—where the shrubbery grows so thick, you know, sir." Sir Lional nodded. "Well, as I came through the gate- James, the gardener, sir, gave me thokey as I didn't know just how late I might be In getting in all right—l was a little"timid at first coming through the trees; but when I got cleur of them I was all right again." "Did you drink anything?" asked Sir Lional. "Well," said the woman, rolling her apron into a little round ball at the cor ner, "well, yes, we bad a glass or two of hot toddy just to keep the warmth in, for it was a bitter cold night as you know, sir. Now, where was T?" she asked. "Where you had pa mod the trees," I interrupted eagerly. I was deeply inter ested in the woman's story. "Ah, yes, when I had passed the trees I was walking along quietly—it was bright moonlight—when straight in front of me I saw two animals standing close together. I thought nothing of that ut first"—and Mollie began to tremble—"but as I came a little nearer I saw one was struggling to get away from the other, and crying al most liko a child, sir. I knew it was one of the fawns. In an instant I remem bered about the others being killed. I got behind ono of tbo oaks. I could hardly stand. The poor little beast moaned and groaned, and the other thing growled and snapped Uke an angry dog. I could just peep around tho tree and saw the fawn drop to the ground, and tho other animal fell with it, its teeth fastened in the other's throat. Then it jumped up quick and stood switching its tail aud looking from sido to side; and as sure as I live, sir, as I looked my heart jumped and hit my nose, sir. It was a great large beast—yel low and spotted all over with big horns and yellow spots. Oh, but its head, its head—" "Well, its head?—" "Was like—" She uttered a frightened scream and dashed against Sir Lional, al most upsetting him, nnd lied from the room. I looked around in wonder, and was an noyed to see Miss Tarrant quietly regard ing us with a cynical smile curling her lips. She walked straight up to Sir Lional, laying her white hand, with its sharp- E united nails, upon his arm and lifting er bold, yellow eyes to his face — "What is if? What bas happened? Tell me," she asked, Her looks seemed to enthrall him; his arm shook beneath her light, firm touch, "Nothing for you to know, my cousin; a matter of very little consequence. It appears —something—some animal bas again been after the deer. There are two more dead this morning, and I confess myself mystified." "Ugh!" With a little cringing motion, she pressed closer against him. With indignation I turned from the room. "My golden eyes—never fear—" I caught tbe half sentence as I hurried down tbe corridor. The servants had all loft tbe court, with the exception ot Mrs. Dunlap and Mollie, which caused me to form the belief the latter most probably had indulged too liberally iv parting toddies upon the night of her wonderful discovery in the park. "For why?" I asked myself, "if she is afraid should she remain. Of all others sho would certainly, if it were truo what she told Sir Lional, be the first to go." A new corps of servants being duly en gaged aud installed, matters progressed very fairly, and we were expecting the young doctor every day, when I again received a turn, frightening me out of my I senses. A footman requested me to come down | to the servants' hall, informing me that j ono of the maids was in violent hyster ! ies. "If you please, miss," the man said, "she declares she saw an elephant in one of the rooms, but more likely," contin ued he, "it was a cat, or maybo a tame monkey. Women always exaggerate you know, madam." I hurriedly followed the man, and as I neared the servants' quarters heard loud noises of distress, weeping, theu peals of loud laughter, evidently proceeding from tbe maid as she relieved her overtaxed nerves. The scene which I gazed upon was so highly ludicrous, so ridiculous in tho ex treme, I could not refrain from a burst of uncontrollable laughter. What I saw was. the maid in violent hysterics lying upon a settee, while the other servants crowded around, some throwing water in her face. others fanning her, some shaking and rubbing her. But the funniest thing of all was Mollie, tho cook,who probtibiv weighed three hundred pounds or mure, upon her knees on the door convulsively clasping Mrs. Dunlap around the skirts, and in maudlin tones imploring "Good Mrs. Dunlap, sweet Mrs. Dunlap, to save her," while the housekeeper, who was von'diniinutiveof stature.looked around, helpless und bewildered. At my en trance Mollie sprang to ber feet with a bowl of terror, no doubtfully- expecting to experience the disagreeable aud novel sensation of being swallowed alive. When the maid became calmer, it was, at the least, a most startling story which sho told. It appears ono of ber duties was to take every afternoon a light repast to Lady Dora, and the maid, being a new comer, got completely lost among the numerous stairs and corridors, so that she lost all trace of ncr mistress' room. After wan dering around she at last reached what she supposed was Lady Dora's rooms und knocked softly, ns she claimed. Upon hearing voices she opened tho door, thinking some ono bade her enter. As she did so she dropped tho tray, dishes and all, uud screaming, rushed from the room, finding herself in tho servants' hall, she scarce knew how. "What 1 saw inthe room was a great skin, yellow aud brown, upon which was stretched an animal—a very large animal, spotted as the skin on which it laid: an old black woman sat in front of it near its head, and was speaking in a iow, quick, strange voice and language, mean while making queer little motions and gestures with her hands and arm:-;, when I screamed and ran away." This is the story which the maid told, and one listening to her could not doubt the truth of what she was saying. Sir Lio nal pooh-poohed tho idea, and said the girl had caught sight of tbe leopard skin and lost ber reason —the same us Mollie who had drank too many toddies. I will now say farewell. Mr. Felix Rossiter will lake up the remaining thread of this story aud remain with you until it is finished. Very faithfully yours, Olivia Loinuxus. EOSSITER'S STORY CONTINUED. CHAPTER I. I have furnished Miss Longnus' state ment, and will now proceed with my own. I will begin by giving you a glimpse of my professional career. I always think a reader becomes better acquainted with writers if they give a little of their do mestic life, or a sort of recommendation as it were. Though, I am sorry to gay, thero is nothing Very interesting—for which I beg ten thousand pardons—in my. past career, and ii" it wearies" you, dear friends, just jump these pages until I come back to the story again. So to begin. After struggling with adversity until my ambition had well nigh deserted mo, I suddenly found myself the rage of Lon don, and could now command a fee, which two months previous T could not deem possible, and why? simply because tickle fortune, or to be more explicit, fickle Cushion smiled upon me; nay, not only smiled but laughed and took "mo impul sively by the hand in right good will. How it all came about is a mystery, but from a struggling, almost starving medi cal practitioner I speedily became "Dr." Felix Rossiter, the wonderful youug physician whose cures were said to"be re markable. My fame becoming so uni versal 1 immediately became the proud possessor of a noble span of thorough breds, tbe latest thing in carts, and in short established myself a bachelor picd a-terrc in Grovesnor Square, London. I think the secret of my success, and how it came about, was this: ' One evening 1 was seated in true Amer ican fashion before the glowing and grate ful warmth of the fire, roasting my toes upon the fender, meditating seriously upon the plan of pulling up sticks and seeking a fortune elsewhere; for that day bud proved even worse than the former no money, no patients. At least plenty of patients willing enough to pay if they possessed tho means, poor creatures. But administering to the Ills of the body and no Income, soon eats a big round bole in a poor man's pocket-book. With the sriioko of. njy cigar curling above me to the ceiling—it waa a good one—l can go Without wine at dinner, never miss my pousse-cafeat breakfast; in feet, oould forego numerous other dain ties, which would be considered by some essential to the inner man. But one thing I could not resist and that was mv cigar, and a good Havana at that, ft rested, soothed and comforted mo, and in its luxurious breath I forgot the cares und anxieties which I might undergo during the weury hours of tho day, A good cigar is the only consolation a poor man may enjoy. But tbis evening my cigar failed to do its magic work. I was in a deep reverie, disconsolately musing upon my unenviable position, 'and something which was not habitual with me, made me envious and covet others luck. My mind wandered back to tho old college days. What a jolly set of chaps we were—my self the lightest-hearted amongst them. What larks and pranks we used to play upon the unwary freshmen. There was Eas"tman, the finished stroke in tho University crew; Ted Vcttclton, who, for a Town and Gown row, was ever foremost, and for which ho was eventu ally expelled, and now ho is a full-fledged bishop, from whose lips eloquence flows like dripping honey, and whose name is spoken with lov,e and reverenco by all England. Then thero was another, Dick Trevor, good hearted, irrevocably stupid Dick, timid to girlisbness. We used to call bim "Miss Dicky Bird." I laughed aloud, "Can such changes be?" At my elbow, upon tho table, is tho Times, which bears upon its printed columns a brilliant speech from the Honorable Rich ard Trevor, who, for years, has found no equal in the House of Commons. As a legislator be manifests a prodigious ac tivity. Statesmen hang upon the words of the silver-toned orator. Women try to gain one utterance from his lips. Yes, as H^H H 9 j!/^\ % \ tjfe- #Sco*tt» .49 V" ing to health were the frequent changes of the weather. What was it that helped you win the fight with disease, warded off pneumonia and possibly consumption ? Did you give due credit to SCOTTS EMULSION of pure Norwegian Cod Liver Oil and Hypophosphites of Lime and Soda ? Did you proclaim the victory ? Have you recommended this wonderful ally of health to your friends ? And what will you do this winter ? Use Scott's Emulsion as a preventive this time. It will fortify the system against Coughs; Colds, Consumption, Scrofula, General Debility, and all Ancemic and Wasting Diseases (specially in Children). Pa/ stable as Milk. S, Pi- CJA^"~S^ tt'sEmulsionisnon-^eret 'andisP rescribedbytheMed- CAUTlON.—Scott's Emulsion is put up in salmon-colored wrannsTc cal Profession all over the world, because its ingredients are scientifically ie sure and get the genuine. Prepared only by Scon *SSm2" •ombined in such a manner as to gready increase their remedial value. (anufacturiag Cacrairts, New Ymxk. All Druggists. ' a parliamentarian he occupies the first rank. And again. Luke < ':-.ms, simple and im pulsive, now occupying a Judge's seat. 1 havo heard anu road how criminals quail before him. "All, Felix, my boy," I muttered sor rowfully, "you aro not in it." Ah, yes; and there was Lionul Glandour, upright and honorable—my sworn chum and con fidant. What a keen delight 1 took in the university triumphs of mv friend. I would give all 1 possess—which I'm afraid would be very small, worse luck—if I could see him this evening. Perhaps he, | too, is changed, for he was a nobleman— j only son and heir. Dear handsome Lion. , how I loved him—the very soul of honor. Then, too, I remember old Professor I D'Herbelot. whose knowledge was some what marvelous, possessing the finest in sight for science. Ile left the university te proceed to Tibet, and there continued his wonderful studies. He has but re cently returned, und all London is at his feet, by whom he is regarded with super stitious awe. Poor old D'Herbelot, how very old he must now be. My meditation was cut suddenly short by a violent pull at tbo door bell; and then came Mrs. Burton, my landlady, with tho news. "A carriage and four is waiting out side, and someone wants to see you im mediately." I noticed the now tone of respect in which she addressed me, for carriages and fours were few and far between amongst my patients. "Dr. Rossiter, sir, I would advise you to wear your great coat, sir. It is bitter cold outside, and the snow is beginning to fail again." I hurriedly caught up my hat and scrambled into my last winter's overcoat and followed hor through the oitchy darkness. By tho aid of v dim light in the carriage lamp 1 made out the muffled form of the driver and faintly discerned another figure standing, holding tho door open for me to enter. "'Hits'er grace the Duchess of Knox bury as wants you, sir. She's been taken with one of 'er bad spells hagen hand 'er hown. Dr. Harmstrong his bout of town, She ordered me to fetch you with out delay. So jump bin." This peremptory order I obeyed. We rode at a rapid rate for four squares, when tbe driver suddenly halted with a jerk, and my companion sprang to the pavement, bidding me to follow htm. He conducted me through a brilliantly lighted hall. Stairs after stairs we climbed until pausing in front of a great oaken door, my- guide finally entered. I followed close ut hi:s heels trying to look and feel wiso and professional. In this apartment v taper was dimly- burning. A queer feeling was beginning to pass over me, when a shrill voice called from the deepest gloom. "Eh. Muxwell! have you got him?" My heart began to palpitate. "Yes, your grace. 'Ere 'o his," re plied the man addressed us Maxwell. "Then turn the wick a little higher. Mercy! not so high." Maxwell did us directed, and I beheld the very ugliest little old woman I had over seen. I advanced with a deep pro fessional bow uud looked my- very wisest. She surveyed me critically. I asked in my most professional tones— "Have 1 the pleasure of addressing the Duchess of Knoxbury?" "Never mind," she snapped. Then ut tering a shrill, little cry of pain, "oh, oh!" A female attendant hastened at the bed side. "Again? Poor dear! how you suffer." I stood feeling like a fool." What ailed the woman? And who was she? Then the female attendant spoke: "It's the gout, sir. Her Grace is a per fect martyr to it." "Yes," spoke tho snappish voice again. "Don't stand there gaping und staring like a fool, but give me something to stop this infernal pain, can't you? Don't you sco how I am suffering? Oh! oh! Maxwell, you idiot, why didn't you bring me a doctor, not a donkey?" I turned on my heel in indignation, preparing to depart. "Where are you going?" she screamed. "Ob! oh! Come back, 1 command you." I confronted hor. "Madam, who you are I neither know nor care. You havo no right to insult me, nor any authority to command mo that I am aware of. I wish you good evening." Hero Maxwell interrupted. "Don't mind 'er Grace, sir. 'Er Grace don't reully know what she says when sho gets them shooting pains." V* ith a bad grace I ascertained that the old woman's ailment was a severe case of suppressed gout, which, luckily, I under stood the treatment of, and "from that evening my success was phenomenal. My practice becoming too extensive I was seriously contemplating taking a partner, when I received an urgent mes sage begging me to come, without delay, to Glandour Court. CHAPTER 11. Yes, I was summoned by my dear friend and former classmate, Sir Lional Glandour, who requested me to run down to tho court and attend his wife, the Lady Dora, who had puzzled all the surround ing doctors in regard to some serious malady which she was long suffering from. Although occupied with business of importance, I was only too willing to oblige my friend. Upon my arrival I was presented to Lady Glandour, whom I found in a deli cate condition. I thought nothing re markable about her indisposition upon that account. Miss Longnus, I perceive, has given you a very fair description of her ladyship, so I will merely mention that it is not at all overdrawn. I found Sir Lional the same kind, ge nial friend as of yore, and he welcomed me heartily to the court. Upon his inquiries regarding his wife's health I informed him it was nothing serious. Perhaps a little nervousness, which was to bo expected. Then Sir Lional—who was a princely host—in sisted upon my remaining some days at the court, which I was not at all ioth to do. It was that samo evening at Glan dour Court I ihet with a strange experi- once—the greatest shock I ever remem ber to have received in the course of my life, and, beyond doubt, the queerest. We wen- seated at the dinner table - Lady Dora, Miss Longmis, "Sir Lioimland myself. I noticed, without any particular curiosity that there was a vacant cover laid. .My host was gayly chatting and laughing over our old college days, wlron a footman swung the door wide open and a lady entered, whose weird unnatural beauty staggered me. She advanced slowly—l never saw a woman walk so slow before. She seemed to pause ati in stant at every stop. 1 closed my eyes and wondered if the champagne—l ban not yet tasted it—could have all'eeted mv brain. Hat hair! Her eyes! Ye gods. It was gold—it was brown. "No use —1 most be drunk-—it is not possible. Her eyes! They are not eyes, but stars, bright with shining darts, rays Hashing through the halt-closed, curliug lashes of inde scribable length. lam drunk. I look at my plate. The soup is there—little round i balls of fat form upon the surface us it grows cold. I wonder what ails mc. Am I going to be sick? My wine is still untouched. It cannot be tliat. I must be threatened with brain fever. It was a warm ride down from London. Yes, I am going to be ill. Are they observing me? I passed ray hand quickly across mv eves. ]N-o. Lady Dora is still engaged with"leisurely j consumption of her soup, Miss Longnus, sitting prim to my left, has finished, j Then I '.-lanced towards Sir Lional's plate which, like my own, had not been touched —not a spoonful taken from it. His eyes, too, aro in the same direction as my own —I must be sober—-and are fastened upon her. She advanced, her eyes resting with all their splendor upon lum—upon him alone. lier arm and nock arc bare, and gleam like whitest silken -velvet; her gown, brown and gold, like her hair, clings to the splendid generously propor tioned limbs. Three or four brown, round moles add to the glorious beauty of her face. Miss Longnus, I see, lias tried to describe her. but without any slight intended that lady, it i.s but a poor description, for no pen-piotare, however cleverly drawn, could portray this wom an in her overpowering majesty. There could be m> comparison with her and any other. It intoxicated me, and dead ened the senses like new wine. Then Sir Lional's voice brings me to my senses again. "Felix — Mr. Itos-iiter —my cousin, Miss Tarrant." Tliis is how I first met and saw her. Hor eyes never strayed an instant from Sir Lional's, as she acknowledged the in j traduction, with a slight bow. I don't I remember now what I said or did, but I muttered something. She seated herself to Sir Lional's right, and by degrees mv senses returned. I say now she is anu was the most beautiful thing I ever gazed upon. I have said enough. If I were to writo from now until tiie day of doom, I could not hope to do her justice, nor would you understand and feel her beauty as I did, I returned to London, promising to make another call at Glandour; probably in a week's time. I had already re mained away longer than my practice or patients would allow. ICoiwluik'd next Sunday.] FEROCIOUS, EVEN IF DOCILE. Trainer Dar-llns Says that Lions Are L'gly Animals to Kducato. "I have found that nn African lion is a curious combination of ferocity and do cility," said Eduard Darling, the lion tamer who was performing in "Nero" at Niblo's Garden-, recently. "I have ever found them treacherous in tho extreme, watching carefully for an opportunity to attack anything not of their species. You know the ancient Komans are said to have given wondarfhl performances with these wild beasts, but I don't believe there are instances on record for the past two cent uries in which they have been trained to give performances iv the slightest degreo interesting. "Some years ago I began training ani mals, and I lind it an easy matter to train most any kind, with tne exception of these African lions. Take, for instance, the animals I uso in 'Claudius Nero.' I attempted to educate over twenty-eight lions, and out of that wholo number I havo only succeeded iv getting six that are suiliciently tractable to perform the tricks of my programme. The principal difficulty in educating lions is that they are too stubborn and vicious to be taught, or rather to be made to understand what is required of them. Thoy certainly do not lack intelligence, as I believe the lion capable of receiving as complete an edu cation as the horse or dog. The difficulty is in being able to impart knowledge, as the pupil^ in addition to being armed with great teeth and sharp claws, is possessed of wonderful strength, and the work of placing thorn in command is accompanied with great' danger and fatigue, aud ihe trainer is never certain that his pupils, however great pets they may become, will not in an unexpected moment turn and attack bim as liercc-ly as they would if at large in the'rnalivo jungle. "To give yon some idea of the cower of these animals, one of my lions once turned and struck mo a blow on the thigh that throw me completely across the cage and lacerated my thigh pretty badly, cutting the flesh clear through to the bone. This blow would have been foi- ' lowed by an attack from the whole group had I not regained my feet instantly and confronted them with the whip, which is my emblem of authority, I cite this to illustrate the strength of a full-grown Hon, and my opinion is that they cannot be handled as dogs, and that no matter how well they havo been trained ami how carefully handled thoy arc at all times very dangerous." Queen's Collego, Oxford, has just cele brated the 050 th anniversary of its founda tion. It was on January 18, 1340-11, tlmt Edward 111. sealed in the Tower of Lon don a license to Robert de Eglesfield, chaplain to Queen Philippa, to found in the parish of St. Peter-in-the-East a col legiate hall of scholars, chaplains and others, under tho nanio of the Queen's Hall of Oxford. THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. [From Edwin Arnold's New Poem."The Light of tho World."] What «ru it that ye heard? the wind of Night - laying in cheating tones, witli touches light, A»ma the palm-plumes? or, oue stop ..tit blowu. Of )>ianetui-y music, so Tar down Earthwards, that to those innocent cars 'twas brought Which iH.iit the mighty measure to their though!? 'im"' *'.:,*,', ly ' ""?"* breast-shaped Ecth-Haecarcin, i tie mil oi Herod, tome wall sent to them Ol storming drums and tramps, at festival field in the lilnnin an's purple hall? j Or, it may Ix:, sonic Aramaic song Of conn try lover-*, alter parting long? Meeting anew, witu uracil '-good-will" indeed. Hlown hy some swain upon liis .lordnn reed? -Nay. nay! your abbas back ye did not liiii" l'l-oin each astonished e-ar.for swains to sing llie.r village-verses clean for sounds well known Of wandering breeze, or whispering trees, or tone Of Herod's trumpets, And ye did not gaze Heart-startled on the stars (albeit the (ays or that tone orb shot, sparkling from the East I listen before) for these, largest and least. Were lold-lamps, lighted nightly; and ye knew Far dim-ring glory In the Night1 * dark blue Suddenly lit with rose,und pierced with splko Or golden spear-beam, oh, v dream belike! Borne far-fetched Vision, new to r-tananf sleep, " To sense, and yet so largely leaving freed lhat we do know tl-.iiigs are we can not know, And high and higher on Thought's stair ways go Till each last round leads to some suddea steep Where reason swims, aud kilters, or must leap Headlong, perforce, into tho Infinite. How should we say outside this shines uo light or lovelier scenes unseen, of lives which spread rieusunt aud une-cDected for the Dead, As our World,opening to the Babe's wido eves •Sow irom the womb, and lull of birth's sur prise? How should this prove the All, the Last, the First? Why shall uo Inner, under splendors burst Once— twice—the Vail? Why nut a marvel by Because too rieii with Hope? Why quite deny *b* heavenly story, lest our doubtful hearts— Which mark tho slurs, and take them for bright parts Of boundless Delng, ships ot" life that sail In glittering argosies—without a tale. Without a term—or or thut shoreless Sea. The scattered silver islets, drifting tree fo destinies unmeasured—see, 100, tnero liy help <>r dead, relieving eyes, which were The peoples ofthe Stars; and listen, meek. To thos? vast voices of the '••tars, which speak— If ever they shall speak —in each m-in'3 tongue? And truly, if Joy's music once liat'u rung lrom lip-, of bands invisible, ir any— (Be thoy of the Dead or or tho deathless Many)— Love ami serve Man, angelical I'efrienuers, Olad or his weal, and from his woe Defend ers— If such, in Heaven, have pity ou our tears. Forever lulling with the anjuendlng ye-ais, High cause hud they at Bethlehem thai night To lin the curtain of Hope's hidden light., To break decree Of silence with I.ove'sery, Foreseeing how this Babe, born lowly, "Should—past dispute, since now uc'hicved Is this— Bring earth great gifts or blessing and of bliss; Date, from that crib, tbe Dynasty of Love; Strip his misused thunderbolts irom Jove; Bend to their knee Home's Cawan, break the chain From the slave:s neck; set sick hearts free again Bitterly bound by priests, and scribes and scrolls; And heal, with balm of pardon, sinking souls; Should Mercy to her vacant throne restore. Teach Right to Kings and Datience to the poor; Should by His sweet Name all names over t hrow. And by His lovely words the quick seeds sow Of golden equities and brotherhood. Of Pity, Peace and gentle praise of «jood; Of knightly honor, holding life iv trust For Ood, and Lord and all things pure and just; Lowly to Women; for Maid Mary's sake Lifting our sister torn the dusi, to take In homes her equal place, tiio Household's Queen, Crowned and august who sport and thrall had . been Of arts adorning Life, of charities Gracious nnd wide, because the Impartial skies Roof one race in; and poor, weak, mean, op pressed. Are children of one bounteous Mother's breast, One Father's care; emancipating Man, Should, from that bearing-cave, outside tho Khan. Amid the kneeling cattle, rise, and be Light of all land and splendor of each sea. The sun-burst ofa new morn come to earth. Not yet, alasf broad Day, but l)ay's white birth Which promiseth; and blesseth promising These rrom that night! What causo or won dering irthat one Silence of all Silences Break into music? if, for hopes like these Angels, who love us, sang that song, and show Of Time's fair purpose made the "great light" glow? Club Houses for Women. A number of very prominent and wealthy Xew York women have formed a stock company to establish and main tain, iv suitable fashion, a sort of a club house which will receive woman travel ers at all hours of the night and keep them so long as they behave with pro priety. It is proposed to put womon upon the same oasis, so far as possible, aa men are placed at v hotel or <.-lul> house. It will not be assumed that because a woman is traveling alone at night she ia necessarily disreputable. Sho will be welcomed; no questions asked; no de mand for her marriage certificate made; a comfortable room will be assigned her, which she can occupy as long as she doca not abuse the hospitality of tho house. This house is in connection with tha visitors' guide and chaperono bureau, of New York, No. 11 West Eighteenth; street. The address is given for the con venience of Western women who may* wish to visit New York unattended by a man. Ladies who so desire, will be met at trains and escorted to this house, and? competent guides will be furnished them during their stay in town. This wilk really be a god-send to many women who, aro not so situated as to always tako a man with them when they wish to vi sill New York. The names of Edward Ever ett Hale, Chauncey Depew, the Hon. anel Mrs. Seth Low, Mrs. Judge Pratt and: many others, are sufficient guarantee for this establishment. 7