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MAY. BY GEORGE W. SEARS.
J i-i . jT)ej.wiiif'a mtrie from tWWnaing spray, J
Witn frraceiui pirn vh isiul;, :
pours out liquid roundelay t
In Jubilaut lejoli-tnR: I
Tbe elE,-invU8e drains xn souml i,'
' The woo tcoet pipts from it aod og
' t Frost upland luat ths plover. - ; . ? e W
T y5klfA-rot nrt p she rtrc-m :
Beneath the nuUc bridge.
While flocks of pigeons glance and gleam
O'er beech ted maple ridges:
Tbe golden robin trills hit note, '
uionf- tHfTlMed shadows,
" The bob-o'-ilufc, with mellow throat. J
Makes musical the meadows.
The peep'.np froes with aP.ver bells.
Bine out a c'uiine of treble swolla
In jojoocraaijon; " r v--
The low of kine la minllne with
The soup of lark and cparrow,
"And fallOwlieTastte rowiuii blithe
Iteneath the plow and harrow.
" ' '' The mooi alt fcl At, terene an J wUite j : ' '
' On late and Stream is growing;
While rippling fountains seek her light. : , ,;
Thronth woftilnnd Talieya flowing;
And ah night iong a low bw.et song
Sweep o'er the misty hollow,
T "" Trom marah and fen, fri!B bUi and lea,
jj. From brook, aadftcld, and fallow,
It is the time of plea ant thincs,
When Lore makes np his issues.
-And hearts well nr;lik W Jdeteeprinpi. 1
' From rusted oelian tissues
A time to hear at break of day
A wiTer-ehorasad matin- ;
A liquid fretwork in crotchet
On atmospheric satin, - '
A time to feast tbe aonl, the eyes.
T -watch each Bird that passes,
And half sormiae that bird are toe,
And men are only assee:
And then to tnrn and raise tbe load
With weary shoulder bending,
And take the old, well-beaten road
That leads unto the ending.
r . . ' i - Upptncott's Mapar?ne.
A LOVER'S QUARREL.
From Temple Bar.
?'And I say it isn't "
'FanDr amuse after the word, ao if
, the speaker tried to get rid of a lump in his
' throat -you're playing the fool; you've
no mrre notion how I love you, than you
have of the height you're standing at above
the sea. I tell you, Td raiher see you ly
ing down there, - washed np by the tide,
than know that you want to go back again
to t'e beach pf your own will, and be look
ed At by that lath-and-plaster lellow of a
captain."- - ' -
And yet, while the fierce words pass the
young fisherman's lips, he takes a firm
- grasp of his companion's arm, lest some
sudden movement should draw her nearer
5 the giddy edge.
The sun had begun to set when these
two, John Fry and Fanny Heywood, began
to quarrel, and now he has just sunk into
3 toe purple bed of clouds risen up from tbe
sea to receive him. There has been a scene
of magnificent and fast-changing color;
' crimson, and gold now by turns, now all
. , at once have held their places on the ten
' der ground of chrvsolite-ereen, fast fading
into grey;, though its final hue lingers;
- among the rock-pools below the cliffs, niin-'
gled with rosy gleams that reflect themseL !
ves . from scattered cloud-lines." . The rag. ;
ged perpendicular cliff rises some four hun i
dred feet above the sea, and about a thi
way down its steep side runs the path or
ledge on which the lovers stand. They ,
care nothing for the "exquisite scene belowi
them. Oa the right the tiny village nest-:
ling in the gorge of high hills -on one side '
wooded to tbe base, on the other a preci
pice of rock rick in brown and purple shad-
. ; ows every here and there in its depths re
vealing a glimpse of the white foaming
river, that comes struggling and tumbling
'over huge gray stones to the sea; while
further btill on tbe right stretches a rnge
' of Joity cliffs, the Lues of which mock the
. power of words to render, as successfully
as they elude the painter's resources to de
pict crimson, purple, violet of richest
toues every wherr relieved by tufts of bright
golden blossoms and the fresh green of
lady fern that fringes the jagged edges. '" :
. John and Fanny have disputed before
this eveningbut only for a few sentences;
and then a kiss from him, or a tear in her
- sweet eves, hns brought the matter to a
standstill. . Cut this quarrel wears a more
serious aspect. John looks absolutely
threatening. He is a strong, well-built
oung fellow, with a true South of Eng
land face a face that is saturated with sun
shine, that puts one iu mind, all at once,
of ripe .August cornfields; and, taken in
conjunction with h.s rich curly hair and
beard, of October nuts and squirrels. But
the deep black eyvs, that match so well with
this golden brown, have none of their us
ual expression;- they ara full of angry
lear ns; and through, his parted lips you
can sea Lis teeth set hard.- " -: ;
. .Fanny looks up, and meets this stern,
compelling glance; meets it, too as you
mav tell bv the quiver of hex rosy mouth
just whn a loving same cr a caress might
' have prevailed over perverse spirit that was
' rising. '" '
It is a puzzle that she has been able
(living so near the sea) to keep her 6kin bo
white and delicate looking. Her hair near
ly matches her lover's, but her eyes are not
so deep iu color; there is a tinge of blue
hazel in hers that shines out witn lmost a
golden glitter as John takes hold of her
arm. She thinks he means to make her
'Let me go, will you? I'm not yonrwife
yet, John, and I don't knov that Ievei will
He draws his hand away.
"Come, come, Fanny, you're talking
nonsense now. I was a minute ago, may
be. Why should yon asd me quarrel about
a thing which can't happen if youH only
let yourself be guided ?"
The girl's eyes filled with sudden angry
tears. - '
'Tm not quarrelling; I only say you
don t put any trufct in me. Why," (she
tosses her head scornfully,) "even if I
choose to go home by the beach, and Mr.
Russell and Captain Standish are there,
and they say a civil word to me what am
I the worse for it I'd like to know? I sup
pose you'd - like me lo wear a mack next,
with just two holea to see out of. - Every
thing thais pretty is looked at, you know
it is. and why not girls as well as anything
else? I say again yours, isn't what I call
having trust in me that H isn't.
The golden light is quenched in the
tears that iairly run over. Fanny s eyes
now are alinocit as dark as her lover's, and
tenderness seems to be swimming in them.
If John could have held out against them
for two minutes, he might have made his
own terms with the pretty, wayward, spoil
ed girl; but a sensible lover would be a
phenomenon worthy of exhibition, and John
was -not a phenomenon. - '
The next minute he had Fanny ir. his
arms,' straining her to his heart, kissing
off her tears, and call himself a "rough,
; jealous fool", for having brought them
' "No, John, you're not a fool, but you are
jealous, vou know you are: and if you go
on like this when we're married, you'll
bi.eak my heart, John, comes out of those
routine, coral lips.
"I'll never be jealous unless you give me
. cause. Fanny,- -he says, nis nonest face
crowing grave again. "But, you see, men
and women have different natures, You
can fiv in a passion and get out of it, all iu
no time, and be as sweet and smiling as if.
T nothing had happened; but that is not the
way with us - anyhow, it's not with such a
' sulky chap as me. Once I'm put up I get
out of bounds, and as to seeing yon laugh
ing and Ulkiag with that young fool of a
Captain why, if I was to catch you at it,
don't know what mighn't be tempted
' r-" i r- S : ' i f '
. 'You're threatening now, Joh3," Fanny
' Itey wood pouts, and draws herself away a
There js "an nneaay look on her lover's
lace, ge loves Fanny with " all his heart
' .and strergtb.. He hus known her from the
"time they .weui crab-hunting together
auaont; the rocks with tbe rest of the vil
l;ige children; and yet, though his heart is
b'j last bound to her that he could never
- tear it away, he has no sure trust in the
wiltoL bewitching girl, When ho thinks
of the future Fanuy as his wife and the
mistress of his home an undefined, shilt
iug fear is apt to come between John and
his certainty of happiness, a tear near akin
to that he Las felt among the treacherous
quicksands further east when he Las been
seeking Anchorage. ' ' '- ' '
He answers, almost eplamnly: ; "Aia
threatening, darling? Then I don't mean it
mean warning, not threatening. You see,
haven't got so many words to fit my mean
ings to. as such a clever titti lass as yon,
Fanny. All I mean is, I want to put
VOL. IV: NO." 36.
.11 - J JLJLid
M'CONIN ELS VILLE, OHIO,
FRIDAY, MAY 20,
WHOLE NO. 195.
L'U'eir to voif 'flit? h'eri ToaVe.'maTbe,
nieauinqr uo Curia, ai.lv a little teasim? m
Uav, ou ra rJivi-g with f elines nw.ai
-av&iTi t,"i fM ll the devtl was let j
loosa in mc, I tiiow.w Xoadon tthiuk mtn
murder onouo(hr of set purpose, doyou,
ttttmy, when they re themselves
Fanny turns wL.te, and
lart her trom the cliff's edge; then she gives
a little force.! larch. -
I must bv, J. Ln, you've got strange
notions of pleasant talk; first, you scold
me till I cry, and then you speak about
murder. Now I must go home, and ii yon
can't trust me to go to by the beach, I'll
take the long Way over the ohffrf. Are 3 on
satisfied now, sir?"
Satisfied! John is radiant at such unex
pected sweet submission, for the road on
ahead over the cliffs is just two miles round
for fanny, and when thy began to quarrel
she had said nothing should induce her to
go home tinless she went by the beach,
where, as John knew, Captain Standiah
and his friend are pacing up and down iu
front of the little bay. "You little duck!"
he says, and John oilers up a good deal of
atonement in word and act, which Fanny
receives with niAny smiles and Hashes, and
at last he lets her go. -
- "Why not go by the lane? he asks.
Fanny nods. I was just thinking so,
she . says, and - she looks back over her
shoulder, and smiles like an angeL John
But the smile fades out of her face mora
quickly than the rose color from those long
ribbon-like cloud lines. By the time she
reaches the end of the rock path her fore
head is dinted with a frown
. The path ends its shelf-like course along
the cliff, and slopes down to the left in a
steep descent to the road leading to the
beach r on the right it mounts as steeply to
the upper part of the village. A lane with
high hedges fringed with plumy fronds of
ladyfern, and nearer the ground, rarer,
more minute kinds nestle like green tas
sels in the chinks of loose-piled masses of
stone hidden by long, Satin strips of hart's
Fanny stands frowning still where the
three ways meet She Is thinking about
"I don't belii ve he thinks half enough
about me he wouldn't dare be so master
ful if he did!'' And then (for a good intent
tion repented of seldom gets a second hear
ing.) Fanny tells herself she is an idiot
"A nice slave I shall be when I'm married
if I'm never to look at any one or speak to
any one but him. What's the use of good
looks if they're all to - be hidden out of
Bight?" and she hardens herself iu this one
idea of her own beauty, aud the amount of
admiration due to it
She stands still, looking wistfully down
the steep lane to tbe beach. A sound of
voices coms up to her, a hearty laugh, and
then sonift words which, bring a blush to her
cheek a blush of pleasure; her lips part,
and her head is thrown back sancily as two
gentlemen-- come in sight, sauntering up
"By Jove! tins is lucky."
Captain Standish take his cigar out of
his mouth, aud says, ."Good evening."
He is tall fair youth, w ith pale hair
and eyes; there is a washed-out look about
him. Mr. Russell has a more manly aspect;
he is short and thickest, fiomethiug of the
bull-terrier breed. - - -
Fanny is in such a flutter of vau it y and
delight, that she hardly knows what is said
to her, or what she answers. She has quite
forgolten her intention of going straight
homo,'-and stands listening and laughing
while the Captain talks. -
John stands listening too -just where
Fanny left him listening,- and yet not
hearing the querulous scream cf the sea
gulls at -he foot of the cliff, dipping their
bl tck- tipped wings iu tbe creaming curl of
the waves and then rising iu sudden flight
with fanning outspread feathers, or sink
ing again slowly as the air resists theit pin
ions. But John is not frowning, ne smiles at
himself. He thinks that be has wronged
Fanny by half-formed fear. "Dear little
creature! how good antlorile she is, after
all! A girl's worth nothing if she hasn't a
spirit of her own. Ah! at Biddeford there 11
be none of these fellows coming down to
plague honest men!' .
John came back yesterday from Bidde
ford, he has an uncle there, a fisherman,
who has offered him a half share of his boat
and his business for a very moderate com
"John! Jonni ry, lsay! Hollo where
A coast guard, in blue flannel and a
shiny hat, comes running along tbe rocky
ledge, as easily as if it were six feet wide. .
He stops short when he sees John, sets
his legs wide apart, and both hands go
down to the bottom ot his pockets. .
"Well, Davie?" - -.
'Look alive!" save Davie, with a red
face, and jerking his thumb over his should
er. "Yer wanted below; the Biddeford
boat is off the rocks and there's one awant
ing yo." ; ' .
"Wanting of me?" . f
John pulls off his wideawake, doubles it
np, and then flattens it out with his strong,
brown hand ; finally, this proceeding hav
ing failed to solve his perplexity, he moves
on to where Davie's thumb is pointing.
" f herell be a bit of a gale to-night afore
the boat reaches Mine-head," says Davie;
and then he stands still and lights his pipe,
while John Fry hurries down to the beach.
Unless he had scrambled down the face
of the crag a bold feat for even so fearless
a climber--he must fo'low the path Fanny
has taken, but he u not thinking of Fanny
as he hurries along. His nncle at Bidde
ford was an old man; ho had already had
one seizure, ana this might be another.
John had few friends or relations, but those
he had be loved with the intensity of a
deep strong nature, and his heart was full
of anxious fear for his nncle; he had left
him so well and hearty, and so full ot warm
sympathy with his nephew's happiness.
So that when John, in his headlong race,
comes suddenly upon the group or, rath
er, the pair, for Mr. Russell has moved off
to a discret aistance the young nsherman
is so bewildered, that for au instant h
stands in silent wonder.-
For an instant only. It is quite dark in
the narrow lane between those high fern-
crowned hedges. Before one can note the
changes that have come into the two faces
so near to each other for Captain Stand
iah's whiskers touch, Fanny's cheek as he
whispers John's hand is on the captain's
shoulder, and the captain stumbles back
wiird into the hedge.
"Keep your distance," w ill you?" John
says, fiercely; that young woman is not
tree to listen to your loolervr : "
lie lias grasped k annv s - arm while he
speaks, and now he Lurries her ulong with
him back by the way he came.
ebemoiit action has calmed down the
tempest of his anger. ' -As he strides along
he is foi cmg himself to decide what he shall
say to Fanny.
He has a dim remembrance of the point
where he left Davie, and he stops short of
that The light has faded so completely
that he can only just see Fanny Hey wood's
face plainly. '
fohe is very whit- and trembling, one
remembers what Johu said just now about
murder, and as self is usually paramount
in her thoughts, her terror is that he means
to fling her over ou to the sharp pointed
rock Lelow ttrrr snreafc,o; paralyzing,
that she cannot tvtu shriek tor help.' Eveu
it she could, her voice would be powerless
against the wailing, screaming sea gulls,
and the roar of the waves as the wind lash
es them into foaming heights. .
Bat John has no mind to harm her.
Spite of all, he loves hex stilL but he has
learned at last to put trust in his own mis
givings, instead of Fanny Heywood.
"Fannv." hfe bhvb. in a choked voice. "I
brought you here to tell you what must be
said between us two." .
He stops and tries to clear his voic, but
it r mains hoarse in spite of him. Fanny
takes a liUla comfort and looks np, but his
sttiu. set face brines back all her; she
clasps her hands over her eyes, aul
ont witn terror.
The strong, awml calm that hail coiin-
to John after his first outburst gives "y at
tne cry, ana nis anger ureaK iuiuuBu
a Rronua swell, betolteiunff now aeepnut
"Be quiet!" he 6ays, savagely, and then
the sharp pain at his heart nerves him, as
pain will nerve to sell-mastery.
"Fanny, when I asked you if you could
love me well enough to be my wife I thou? t
of you as a man thinks of a true woman. I
thought I wasn't worthy of your love, even
though I gave you my heart and soul iu ex
change. I gave 'em you, Fanny; yon have
been first and foremost in every thought
I've bad since then. I'm not making a
merit of so doing I don't know as I can
tike them back: . God knows how I love
you still, but I'll not bike a wife who a not
content wiih the love I've got to give her,
wholl not keep herself for me alone. Til
not put niysolf in the danger of marrying
where I ctfn't trnst
She had kept her eyes hidden, and he
had not seen the shame and the sorrow nt
had filled them, - but bis ht words stnug
her into sudden fire.
"Nobody asks you to" (her voice has the
taunting ring in it be is least able to bear.)
"I'm not likely to ask any man to marry
me, Mr. Fry least of all ono whom I've
made a great mistake by ever Laving any
thing to do with. I always felt I'd thrown
myself away, and now I'm sure of it. I'm
fit for something better than a fir-herman's
wife, I can tell you a -rough brute that
has no manners for his betters. Let me
She pushes him, and at the same mo
ment Davie lonuges np. ,
"Did you hear a 3ignal?" ho bays. "I'm
thinkin it came from beyond Hedden's
mouth. Come on and tell the lieutenant
Why, man, where be ye going, off in the
dark alone; 'ul help noane; wait and f;io
me a help wi' the lifeboat"
John only shook off the grasp Lis friend
had laid laid on his coat, and hurried ofl
into the darkness."
"Well, I'm Mowed!" fays Davie, "there'll
be summat more than common amiss wi' a
steady chap like that 'nn afore he'd run a
mucker along the cliff-edge in the dark-"
And Davie hurries back to tell the lieuten
ant of the he fancies he has heard.
That night no one but the children went
to bed in the little fishing village.
At bout eight o'clock Davie had spread
the alarm of a ship off the Hedden's Mouth,
and the danger was too well known not to
rouse a stirring sympathy in all who heard
the tidings. Lieutenant Roberts and his
men hi.d soon put off in the lifeboat, and
more than one ot the fishing boats had fol
lowed; though the sea w as now so wild that
some of the older men shook their heads
and muttered that "it were a clenu temp
tin' of Providence." Even in the upper vil
lage stray rumors of the excitement below
kept folk waking.
Fanny Heywood lived alone with her
father. He had been village schoolmaster,
but was superannuated now, and almost
childish; his chief ideas being the correct
ness and spotless condition of Lis clothing,
and' the beauty and irresistible charms of
his daughter Fanny. He saw no use what
ever in sitting up burning caudle just be
cause a ship hatl been so stupid as to get
on the rocks, and hu told his daughter she
would do wisely if sho went to bed too.
Fanny pave him a careless answer; but
when he had fairly gone np stairs, she
placed herself at the window and looked
out, in hopes of hearing news from some
The girl's heart was very heavy to-night
She Lad not said one word to hr father.
She Lad joked, and laughed, and trird to
boar herself bravely; but the pent up sor
row grew in its struggle to fiudveut iu
the deep lone stillness it made her heart
heavy as lead.
The night was very thirk. Fanny put
her head out of the the lattice as she heard
a far-off sound, and the wind swirling
round the house in a wild gust blew her
hair into her eyes. The sound came near
er, heavy. aud lumbering, not like a mere
"Who's there? ' she calls, os it comes
nearer; there is a strong sudden horror iu
her, though she could not have found a
name for it
"It's me Davie. I be in a barrow from
the rocks down yonder."
"He's fallen and smashed Lis nrkle,"
says a deep voice which Fanny Heywood
recognizes as that ot the second iu com
mand of the coastguard station; "I Lad to
come back, so I've brought hiui along."
- "Is the ship safe?" says Fanny Hey
wood. , , -.
"Well, yes," (the man speaks sulkily;)
"she cried out before she was hurt There's
one of tbe boats stove in that came out af
ter the lifeboat"
Fanny's heart gives a sudden boun d. " I
any one hurt besides Davie?" she says, in
a faint scared voice.
"Well, yes; and I must go on, Miss,now.
I'm come in to fetch the doctor out to Joe
Porter and another poor fellow "
Is John Fry down helping with jon(
she say 8.
Davie strikes in; the gasping tone of
Fanny's word had roused him.
; "I m not easy in my mind, lie says.
'John Fry left me hII iu u Lir ry to go off
to the rocks, and there's no one seen or
heard on him since. John's not tha lad to
stan' by wi'his Lands ia his pocket while
folks is wanting help."
Before his words are spoken t anny is ont
of the cottage door. She cau see the fig
ures in the vague inuistinct light a light
that seems fraught in itself with doubt and
fear. With all her haste, that strange
mechanical quality we call "Labit" makes
Fanny utae down a shawl, which bangs in
the passage, and wrap it around her head
and shoulders as she runs into the road.
She puts out hei hand till it touches the
coast guard's arm.
"Mr. Evans, tell any one you see to send
help to the foot of the cliffs: and tell lieu
tenant Roberts I'm gone there to look lor
"Gone alone God help her! But as
he speaks there is nothing but the vague
indistinct glimmer round Evans aiid his
charge. Fanuy has sped on far out ot wight,
down the steep ieru banked lane, lighter
than it had been iu - the upper village, lor
the sea is before her.
She guesses that the fishermen are not
gona to bed, and she knocks loudly ut the
first coor she comes to.
An old man opens it very old aud feeb!,
with a face honeycombed with wrinkles,
He has a lantern in bis hand, and holds it
no to examine his visitor.
"Let me have it Father Pugsley," says
the girl, taking the lantern with a grasp he
is powerlese to resist, "If there's a man
or a boy in the house with yon, send them
after me to the foot of Ragged Jack."
The wondeiful power of instinct has told
her that if any harm has come to John her
conduct has caused it She sees him Lur
rying along the cliff-path when she left him
with those taunting words ou her lips. pue
knows every inch of the path, and John's
loving, protecting care has taught her too
well its dangers. At the f .ot of this intts-
sive pile of gray rooks, which the villagers
call "Rugged Jack," the ath sfec-ms to end
suddenly so abrupt is the angle it makes
ronnd the jagged mass. Farmy ahudders
when she thinks of the jutting out crags
below, and how much rare and caution it
would require in the darkness to follow the
abruot turns of the slippery, uneven path.
This is scarcely a thongbt Sho Lurries
on so fast that visions ot what may have
befallen her lover seem to lure her ou to
reach them as they move in bodily shape
before her. At another time Fanny wonld
have been frightened at the lonely dark
ness; now she heeds nothing but the long
ing to find her lover before any one else
can reach him.
She is near the point when a sudden
gust of wind Mowb out her light not for
long. She has seen, as she carried it that
old Pugsley had left matches inside the
lantern. But that moment of utter dark
ness, all alone on that giddy height, with
tli moaning finlping sound of the hushi; g
wav.'s be'.f'W, fi'bakes Fanny from Lead t".
What if sho cannot find Lin.? YM- i
he ii is f.ni a to the bottom of the cliff, tnd
the bui-gry wves, ebbing buck, have car
ried l.iui along with them forevei?
Ilf r lingers grow unnerved and trem
bling -sLe cannot relight the lantern.
Even if finds I iui he will not be alive,
lie ni;iy be an nndistinguishable mass ol
brokt-n bone s aud wounds too dreadtul to
thiiikof. i ' -- -
Fiame allaet, and with it the girl's cour
age, rekindleaj She trembles still, Lnt she
draws her shawl more closely around Lr
and goes lorward, not so fast but more
stenili.y. . . '
There is a heart after all, inher vain lit
tle boly a heart that, almost lor the firt
time ia her life, is spukiug to her . more ot
ftnotLirr than of herself and the longing
to htlo and comfort John for his own sake
is overmastering any selfish dread. .
She s'ops . and holds the lantern high
above her head. Just before her, black in
the vague ligut Ragged Jack nLiuds out ns
if to step her way. A sudden ehillalh'ir
Le irt, and sha lowers her lantern to the
path's edge. Fanny could never remem
ber why she did this it was a strong im
pelling instinct. She looks, and then sLe
shrinks back, sick aud white, against the
rock -wall beside her. If John yet lives, he
is lying below where she stands. The path
is broken away, and there are signs that
large bits of rock have been freshly loosen
ed trorn its edge and hurled dowu to the
And as the reality forces itself upon Fan
ny, that she must descend that fearful pre
ciiiiceulone in the darkness, face to face
with tho moaning, waiting sea a moaning
and wailing which echoes, heavily and
hopelessly, every thought of terror Fan
ny Heywood's courage flies in one long
shudderiEg sigh, and she sinks on her
The attitude, or a power beyond her,
briugs prayer to her lips: "Oh, my Fath
er! tave him help me!" The words seem
to nerve her perhaps they remind her she
is not so helpless. She lies down on her
face, and drags herself to tne edge. "John!
John Fry! John, darling! do yon hear
Tho wind is lu'ling fast, and her voice
souuds clear through the night air.
No answer conies: the silence eecms
moro awful, and the moan of tbe waves
more awfn!ly true in their foreboding.
Desperately, she raises herself and Bends
her voice out in one loud piercing cry.
Then fche strains her ear to listen.
Far off seeininly as far as the bay on the
other side of Ragged Jack an answer
comes, but in a souud of many voices;
and thou nearer, almost close, so it 6eems
by contrast, a feeble whistle.
All her fears are gone; she only chides
at her owu delay. Still holding the lan
tern in one Land, sho feels Ler way cau
tiously; foot by foot down the cliff' till she
finds at List a stauding place. She knows
where she is now; the crag juts out here
into a Luge jagged rock, with a bush or
two ou it, and then goes sheer down to the
Ayfiin. close beside her, the whistle
sounds londer than before.
Sbe culls, but noanswer comes; and then
she holds the lantern so that its light fails
Close to Ler so close that her next
downward footstep would have been set ou
his face John Fry is lying with shot eyes.
Ha has been caught, seemingly, bet ween
the bushes growing on the edge, for only
bis head and chest are visible.
Fanny kneels down, she touches his face
timidly wiih her hand, and then draws it
"John ! - John, darling! Open your eyes!
Speak to me!"
11k'. li-.s there as still as the gray rock,
almost as cold. Sho forgets the danger of
falling; sLe twines her arms round him;
she luui'murs to Lim, and presses warm
kisses on Lis faco.
"Oh, John, my darling! my darling'
Look at me just once; let me hear you say
once you forgive my w ickedness!"
She might as well cry to the rock itself;
and yet, as she presses her hps on his, it
seems as if some warmth lingered in them.
Suddenly she raises her Lead, and cries
out loud for help. A rdrang.) sound has
reached htr. She listens breathlessly.
Yes, they are coming. Overhead, she hears
voices and, from tho sea, the strong, re
gular pn'.l of oars.
John Fry was taken home alive, but
there came w eeks of anxions watching be
fore he was abhi to walk, once more btido
liinny Heywood, to tho scene of his fear
Inl fall and then he walked with crutches.
Funny smiles brightly in her lover's factf.
She is trying to cheer the sadness that,
spite of his efforts, clouds the strong man's
eyes at times, for it is very hard to John
Fry to realize that ho is crippled for lite:
but under tho girl's smiles, is a tender.
subdued look new to her face. It may be
that the bitters she h:is shed, durinc her
long patit-nt nurs ug. have left their trace
te ars, liot only ot sorrow for her lover's
sufferings, but of contrition for the pirt
she had acted toward him.
"Fanny!" (John had stood in silence for
some minutes leside the broken pathway)
I don t think you and I will quarrel again
will we, darling?"
He looks at her smiling, with Lis deep,
loving eyes, and t-hc tries to answer .bright
ly; but the recollection of that foolish quar
ri'l and its emiing masters her, aud tears
come instead of words.
Hnsh!" he whispers softly; "you'll spoil
your sweet tyes, my darling, and they re
my eyes now at least they will be after
Fanny Lides the eyes on his shoulder.
"Don't ask me to promise, darling," she
whispers. "While you've been so ill I've
learned uurc about myself than ever I
thought to know, I wonder Low you find
anything to love iu a girl who can put no
trust iu bcrseli!"
Therj is uo need lo tell John Fry's answer.
An Incident of the Late Calamity in
Correspondence of the Petersburg Index.
RicnMosD, Tnesriav, May 3, 1870. I
heard yesterday of one of the most re
markable circumstances connected with the
calamity of Wednesday last Prof. Dews,
a well-kuown violinist of Ibis city, at the
time of that ocenrrence was standing in the
wide avenue leading from the Governor's
Louse, somewhat near the monument tie
heard the crash of the falling tin
bers, and saw the clouds of dust rising trom
the windows, when with terrible sudden
ness nnd by t-ome astonishing and inexpli
U!e working of the imagination, the whole
scene, as described afterward by many per
sons. beOMine vividly impressd upon his
mind. He knew that a horrible accident
had taken place, but more than this, Le
could hear the moans of the dying and the
cries of the wounded, and could see their
ctrngglcs under the uias of fallen timbers.
the tflect upon him was to pro
duce paralysis of the left sid. - his
whole t-yhteui was shocked as if by
an electric current, the nerves vibrated and
tingled till they seemed as if they must
?np, fo great was the tension. He is yet
confined to Led, but is improv.ng under
the medical attention of Dr. P. A rrayser.
Prof. Dews is a reliable middle-aged gen
tleman. He is nut at all of an imaginative
difpoti ion, is iu the most viporous health,
ruid H.-L'.hs two Lnndri'd pounds.
I imp'ieitiv believe his ' statement
uuaecountuble as it is. The present
condition of his whole side, and
arms prove how dreadfully he was shocked,
Lis tes were freely spotted, as is olten
heen ia c;;sos of paralysis, or paralysis of
the brain. 1 have heard of some other
persons v. ho were nearly as badly injured
iy Learing tho result of the accident Old
Lawyer Cannon, one of the most venerable
and worthv citizens, was paralyzed, and is
now confined to his bed. He has been be
fore in this condition, however; but none
of theso cases seem so strange as this
where a 1 rrs'i. ii.ji'h' r seeing nor being
told what. Lal li .t'i" nt d, at ouce realized
' it in all its shocking details.
MODERN FANATICISM IN TUNIS.
A Fanatical Moor Proposes to Exterminate
the Christians—He Falls to
Cutting Men, Women and
Children Indiscriminately—He Kills
and Wounds between and Seventy
'J ha following lelu r from a lady residing
in Tunis, Northern Afri;-a, furnishes par
ticulars e,f t'ue blood, i-ffair in that city, of
which the U'.e-or, h hns made mention.
The letter dated March 11, 1870.
I must (..ivc yem nn account of a shocking
affair that occurred here day before yester
day. A fanatical Moor, who considered
hiinsell char.;?d by Allah, bi? God, to fall
npon the Christians, started about midday,
armed with 'a' sharp sword, through the
streets, end canin." need cutting down men,
women and chilJitu indiscriminately.
Mr. II-, who was hitting at the
window of his study, heard people
screaming in tht stre et below. lie jumped
up to see what caused the disturbance, and
saw the mun give ono or two cnts nt eur
pkeeLi ?oor, which is always guarded by
one or more of tho dragomen or servant.'; of
ILe "uoar.e. Mr. IL ro-.Led at once to my
room, where I was sirtiny by the window
sewing, with the baby at my side, who had
come to say "good-bye" before going ont
I looked ont cf tha window and saw the
Moor running along followed by some fifty
or more Arabs who were afraid to approach
him. At that infant the l!oor struck at a
young boy just going into the college. In
a moment I saw him fall covered with blood,
he having l!i cut across the face, his eye
cutout, and his face horribly disfigured.
Mr. H. ran at ouce to give the alarm to tbe
authorities, and iu descending into the
skeefa he found our young dragoman aud
an old servant of ours, who had been in the
skeef.i door as the mau passed, both fright
fully wounded, and the sket fa covered with
blood. The men were Liken immediately
to our doctor's, who is the best in Tunis.
Tho Moor ran through the European quar
ter for more than nn hour, cutting down
from right to lelt all who were in his way.
He was finally arrested in the largest
mosque by an English dragoman, as it is
certdn death for a Christian to enter a
mosqne in this country. He had, however,
before being arrested, wounded and killed
between sixty and a hundred persons.
I enn give yon no idea of the pcene that
followed; for a lonj time it was not known
that he had been caught, and at every mo
ment tho people feared h wonld appear
from anothsr quarter; then the rnmor got
out that three of them were cutting people
down and that the Moors would not hare
them touched, as thev had been inspired
The Cousuls called a meeting at the
British Consulate and decided to take
steps at once to protect the peoplo, as they
feared a revolution; particularly as after an
hour, and when it was known the man had
been arrested, the populace, many of them
bearing their wounded children in their
arms, assembled in front of the British
Consulate ami demanded that tho Moor
should bo brought immediately to the
Plaza and be beheaded before them. This
would have boeu impoxsiblc, and would
have tempted the Arabs to a general mas
sacre, as they regard the dead body sacred,
and to have a Christian touch it i3 sacrilege
It was decided that the American Con
sul and French Consul-General should go
at once to the Bey's Palaoe iu the country
and insist on his coming to Tunis, or send
ing his Trime Minister to sitisfy the peo
ple and render justice, lhe Prime Minis-
teraud another high officer much beloved
and respected, caian escorted by a large
body of troops. Tho PIuza was by this
lme failed by a mass of most excited peo
ple, calling in a low and determined voice
lor vengeance. It was somcthinc awful to
see anl hear, and thr events of the diy
will never bs forgotten by those who wit
ness d them People of manv toncues
and nations were crjing ostto be revenged
for luis frightful c-.ii nare.
After t--o:uo moments UeraJcan.one of tho
Ministers, came forward and announced
from the open window, snrrouuded by all
the Coisnls, t: at in fifteen minutes justice
should b-i done, but that ti n un must be
execnted in the Moorish n'l-irl. r. otherwise
hecotild not enswrrf r thi s d'. ty of the
Europeans. A deputation of live Consuls
from different nations was immediately
sent to tho place of execution, and ail
waited breathlessly tor their retnrn with
lb assurai co that the execution Lad taken
place. It was with ti.e greatest difficulty
that the crowd could be prevented from
going into the Moorish quarter, which in
their excited condition would Lave Iven
certain revolution. In a half hour the
deputation return; I i.u. assured the mob
that they bad seen tl Moor beheaded,
and Hej-adean made another MeecU in
French, begging them to retnrn quietly to
their homes, and that he with a hlre
guard would patrol ihe city during the.
night and wonld insure peifect protection
for them and their families. Just as the
snn set the crowd dispersed, and wo all re
turned to our homes, I having gone with
my family under a strong escort to tin-
Mr. II. went immediately to the doctor's.
where our men La i been taken, and found
the dragoman still alter four hours, bleed
ing from lour arteries, and the doctor
working with b:in. ILey were finally
fonnd and burnt with a red hot iron, and
at 8 o'clock, p.- m., l e had bee n con
veyed to Lis homo. He is still ill from
fever and c& of blood, and was only ablo
yesterday to recount how it Lappened.
It appears that his tnend entered our
ekeefa, having wounded the man Rifting at
the door, aad in trying to seize Lim. as is
the duty ot the dragonian. he received the
cut upou the hand. Mr. IL has written de-
patches to the government, and lies asked
for a sword lo be presi uted to the drago
man for services rendered to the American
Consulate in a moment of such trreat dan
ger, aud when a crowd of nearly a hundred
people were following the Moor and none
ot them dared to touch him. - -
It appear that this fanatic said that Musi
fielmen serving CLriti-us were wore than
Christians themselves, which was perhaps
the lensou why he att -ckrd the ni nt this
Consulate. The Consuls havo made a col
lection ainoncst ti,e Enrooenns. One
broker and nn Italian dragoman being
cha ged with it, they Lave succeeded very
Well, all giving freely -the Consuls heading
"Waitkb. I'll take mv hat." said a gentle
man at a ball one evenine. as he was about
going home. "What kind of a lii.t was it.
sir?" "A bran new ov.n that I boueht this
rnorninsr." "Well, sir" said the waiter.
"all the good hats Imvo been gone for more
an two hours.
A Row fob Lite. Lbt Friday evening.
between eight nnd nine o'clock, a young
man in the emidov of Tatar, the well-
known boatman at Black Rock, started
from Chippewa iu a light wherry, to come
across the river. n.i see ms to have miscal
culated the strength of the current for h s
boat was taken rapidly elown t!.e stream.
and here Lis attention was drawn to Lis
danger, he was n ar lhe Lead or tho mill
race, within a ery short distance of the
rapids, aud speeding onward toward the
Falls. As soon as he coniprended the
si. nation, howe ver, Le plied himself vigor
ously to Lis oais. nnd although he was
obliged t" work f r l-early au hour to ac
complish two or three- ro is of headway, he
finally rched the shore and landed with
the tiriuly e.-tabli.-hed iiupiosiou that he
had experi"iif, d w'eiit is generally termed
a narrow eai e. 'the fortunate fact that
this yung man is one ef the best oarsmtn
in this vicinity probably averted a fatal
catistropLe. Buffalo Erprtss, 3d.
Gewo Prco Housk. The fir.nof Horlbut &
Edna!), No. 32 Lal.e i-trert, Chicago, whoae
advertisement appears in another column if
our pti:er is bo well and lavorably known
throughout tho horthwent, as in need no
cemuienriatiin from us. Tiieir house has
been eWabiUh -d in Chicago over a quarter of
a cenmry, ami their r ci d as a hnuinesii nrm
is nnlarntKhed. CVnntrv buyers will do we:l
to give them a cud lieu in need of their
An Insane Woman Cuts her Wrists
and Bleeds to Death.
From the San Francisco Bulletin.
A thex-kiug cae ot suicide was reported
at the Coroner's office yesterday morning,
which, according to the facts developed,
might possibly have been prevented had tbe
victim been seut to that institution which
was founded to meet the requirement of
the case. It is certainly painful to part
with a dear relative, but sad experience
has demonstrated the danger of allowing au
insane person to be at large. Oa receiving
notice, the "Coroner's Clerk, O'Brien, re
paired to the dwelling house, 1'27 Turk St.
near Jones, and found that a woman nam
ed Annie Schneider bad terminated her ex
istence during tho night in a frightful
manner. After retiring to her room last
evening, she had procured a razor, and
made a deep Incision in each wrist an inch
and a half in length. She then came down
to tho foot of the stairs, laid herseli on t ie
floor, aud bled to death. No unusual noise
was heard ' abont the premises dnring tho
night, and the first knowledge of the tragic
affair was the discovery of the poor woman
lying stiff and cold in a pool of blood.
The deceased left a long letter in the
German I tngnage, in which she stated that
hr sufferings had been almost beyond en
durance for three months past and her
mental condition so weak that a mere child
could make her nerveus. She was 5C years
old, and never committed any wrong act,
yet felt that some one was persecuting her;
and she prayed God to reliave her of his
presence. She complained of not under
standing the English language - it waa a
great bar to her happiness in this country.
She wished to be Lutieel beside a daughter
who died some time ago, and leaves
her watch to her son Martin, a chain to
Wilhelm and a buekle and pin to Annie.
The letter states further, that she is not
afraid to die, and does not wish her name
mentioned after death. Rsference is mde
in several cases to the cause which led her
to commit suicide, and in one place she
says that in this nineteenth century men
are not pnnished for perpetrating crimes,
and there is a man trying to kill her. Mrs.
Schneider was a widow, and has keen crazy
for the last three years, but never attempted
any deed of violence before. She has sev
eral married daughter aad son1 residing
in this city, and one of tke latter Las been
staying with her for a year past The cor
oner will hold an icqusst in the cse.
Religious Beliefs of the Indians.
The duality of God was the most ancient
tenet of the Indian faith a prominent
tenet, it may be observed, in ail the more
advanced Oriental nations of antiquity.
They believed in the existence of two
Great Spirits as forming tke perfect God
heael. One eminently great was the Good
Spirit and the inferior was an Evil Spirit
They believed every animal to have had a
great original, or father. The first buffalo,
the first bear, the first beaver, the first
eagle, tt ccctera, was the manitou, or guard
ian spirit of the whole race of these differ
ent creatures. They chose some one of
these originals ns their special manitou
or guardian, and hence arose the custom of
having its representation as the fnfewi of the
Whatever they held to be superior to them
selves they deified, such as the sun, moon,
stars, meteors, fire, water, thunder, wind ;
but they never exalted their heroes or proph
ets above the sphere of humanity. They
adored an invisible great Master of Life in
various form, which theycalled Manitou, and
nuule it a sort of tutelar deity. They had
vague notions of vicarious atonrnieut and
made propitiatory sacrifices with great sol
emnity. They all had dim traditions of a
doings as an exhibition of Divino wrath,
and the salvation of a family as an act of
Divine mercy. They were verv supersti
tions, aud under the direction' of priest
cratt they did cruel and horrible things. In
their pictographic records of moral and re
ligions thought as well as of their mythol
ogy, they employed symbols extensively.
These were also used in writing their songs,
and in ninsieal notations.
Their funeral and burial ceremonies in
dicated their belief in the immortality of
lhe soul. These ceremonies wero of sim
ilar type every where-. Thoy laid their
.lead, wrapped in skins, upon sticks iu the
bottom of a EhaLow pit, or placed them in
a sitting posture, or occasiouallv folded
them iu skins aud laid tlu-m upon high
scaffolds out of tho reach of wild beasts,
nudtr whieh the relatives wept and wailed.
Their arms, utensil.-t, paints, and food were
buried with them, to bo used on their Uma
journey to the spirit-land. fer they had an
idea that they possessed a twofold nature
ef matter and spirit Iu some regions they
lighted a symbolic funeral pyre for several
nights upon the grave", that tho soul might
perceivo and enjoy tho respect paid to the
Ixwly. Every where they raised mounds
over the graves, and planted them With
wild flowers; and among the Floridians,
the w idows of warriors slain in battle cut
off their hair and strewed it over the graves
of their loved ones. Bensom J. Loksino, iu
Harpr'n Magazine for May.
There are 1,482 theatres iu Europe.
Panif.es, this season, will lo more prom
inent than ever.
Samuel T. Day, of Florid 1, Las been
confirmed as consul to Winnipeg. ;
The Governor of Louisiana refuses to
allow a steamboat to be named alter him.
Fob the past three weeks the shipments
of American silver from Montreal alone
have averaged $50,0(X) per day.
A pacpeb Las just died at the Hull
borough Asylum iu England, wbo during
his lifetime cost the borough $3,000.
Tnp. Navy Department, it is announced,
has decided not to raise the wreck of the
Oueiela, but to sell it to a wrecking com
O.nk hundred and forty Boslonians are
booked for the trip of the Hoard of Trade
over the Pacific Railroad.
Ax Indiana editor, deprecating tho kill
ing and eating of robins, says he "would
as soon eat a slice of Parep-Ro:a ou toast
as to eat a robin."
A little boy, on returning from Sunday
sehool, said to his mothei: "This cate
chism is too hard; isn't there any kitty
cLisms lor little boys?"
A broth eh and sister in an Indiana town
weigh respectively 503-and OKI) pounds,and
tire oldest is only 21 years of ae. This is
too heavy an item to make light of.
A pew days ago a noble little fellow liv
ing near Carr's Rock, on the Erie Railroad,
was the means of preventing a repetition
of the terrible disaster which befel a train
there about a year ago. The grateful
passengers presented their preserver with
the almost fabulous sum of ten dollars.
One of tho Roman bishops preached the
other day at Yelletri, and in the course of
his sermon called railroads, telegraphs,and
tho printing press "inventions of the ilev
il.' II will, of course, vote for the iufal
libility of the Pope.
The mother of Lopez seems to have had
a rather hard time of it When a fugitive
with her son the Brazilians declared that
he floged her every day an i had sen
tenced her to death -her exocntiou Only
being prevented by the Brazilian attack.
A Ti-i-.no mas who Las tried until he
knows, tells ns that it yon go to call on a
known lady, aud she crochets diligeutly all
the evening anel only says "yea" anel "no,1"
you can go away about niue or a quarter
past without breaking any of the rules of
Ir too want to know how 1 1 cook a meal
for eix persons at a cost of one emit, semi io
h scriptive circular to It B. Mitchell, Cnio
H ow.B(7T A Edsali.8, leading wholeals
dinxgint e.f the Northwest, ovrner Lakj
street and Wabash a venuo Chicago.
Ir Ton would have a good thick head of
hair, use Hall's Vegetable Sicilian Hair Re
newer. No other like it
The Weather—Wheat Market—Business
Chicago, Slsy 9, 1870. Warm weather,
Khowers, cool . weather, inclining towaini
again Hiis is the bietory of the wether thi
week. Vegetation is coming forward very
rapi.lly, ami the promise of good crops is encouraging.
THE WHEAT MARKET
is very active, partly owing to tho appre
hended failure of the wheat crop, by drouth,
ia California, and partlv to abundance of
money for speculation. No. 2 epriug, yester
day, wad as high a 94 cents. Wheal ought
never t " be worth less than adoliarahuhtL
it cannot be raiaed profitably for less.
id quite active. , Sales of merchandize, this
easn, exceed lhoso of last Bcaon, up to
thU time, but merchants ay that goods are
ooij at a email margin, . So- much tbe better
for the country at largo. A now advertising
house, for general advertising but wtioet)
luti ait jr i) California and the Paeilie Count
Huu-HJii, Menet.l Oav, has jat bern ctal
llthcd hero, at 133 bearborn street, whith
alono dents directly with all the Pacific shore
rrfa audis a great convenience to the trade
of Chicago and the Northwest.
Tho interpriso of Chicago animates even
thieves. Thursday, at 2 p. o.while A. 8.
Dean wis moving a load of furniture from 3a
of Dear born street to 30 Rush street, an ex
press wagon was backed up in frout of his
bonse, four stoves worth $25 each, and an
$:10U piano placed in it and driven off, and
ueither the thieves nor the property have yet
been found, flow is that for sharp 1
'l'brre has been quite a newspaper discus
sion here an to tbe best klud ot lawn Mow
ers, which culminated in a public trial of the
merits of the different machine, at Rose
Hill, tight miles trom tbe city, on the 4th
HILL'S LAWN MOWER.
bore 'the palm and was a complete success,
raiins: equally wall in heavy and light grain.
It in the only Crst-clas Lawn Mower made,
and so great a favorite that 3.000 wre sold
last aeasos. For aale by f. S. Uenerole A
Co., 'J04 Lke St., Chicgo, andU. B. KeUogi?
& Co., Milwaukee, to whom send for cirrnlars.
THE CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION
is drawing near the close of its tabers, and
will doubtless adjourn next week. . It baa
struck ont the Woman Suffrage clauae. as
serted the sovereignty of tbe State on Kail
roads, and tt.o right of shipper to have their
produce delivered by railroad to such con
signees an thny cbooee. b. -
Bonner and Dexter in Harlem Lane.
New York Correspondrnca of the Eottoa Journal.
I saw Bonner on the road the other elay
It is one of the sights of New York, It is
interesting to watch the sensation he pr
duces, though he appears tvery day. He
comes late on the road, but Lis coming is
watched for with the greatest eagerness
by all classes. He is very systematic, and
can nsually be seen turning into the gate
from Eighth avenue about 5 o'clock. His
pleasure never interferes with business; his
day's work is squarely done before he leaves
for his stables. He has a rig which he puts
on when he prepare for the road. Dex
ter is the favorite with the public, and
they are usually gratified, especially on a
pleasant afternoon. Other horses have had
their brush and have been led off foaming to
the shed. The piizzas of all the hotels
that line the road are crowded with horse
men, and the windows with lady friends..
Spectators with their teams draw upon the
side of the road to await tbe great event of
the day. During the meeting of the two
conferences of the Metnoelist Episcopal
Church in New York last week, it was eati
matod -that- two-thirds of the clergymen
went ont on Harlem to get a Bight of Dex
ter aLel bis famous owner. Bonner makes
Lis appearance at a slow pace, apparently
bidiib-reut to the impression produced.
Ho watches to see that the coast is clear.
By common consent, when Bonner appears
the road is cleared. A Dacotah Iiidian
might take lessons of Bonner in his yells.
As Uexter starts ou his course, his driver
can be heard half a mile off. The excited
throng shout, "That's Bonner," and all
come to their feet The team rushes , bv
with the fleetness of the wind, and is out of
sight in au instant Thereare some things
tlmt cannot be described a panic in Wall
street the inside of St Peter's, the
harmony of an Italian organist the color
ing of the great masters iu the Pitti Palace,
the trotting of Dexter. He moves as no other
horse moves; he is the poetry of motion.
He does not sprawl, throw bis feet eut or
fling them arouud, but seems to slide ont
of Liuiselt, giving the idea that any amount
of speed can be obtained. He is never ex
hausted, there is no exertion, there is a re
serve of speed that is peculiar. Go as fast
as Le will, his hoofs can be as distiujtly
seen as when he is on a slow trot Horse
men say that his sneed has never been
known, and without controversy the palm
is awarded to him on all hands.
A very exciting scene took place the oth
er day. A gray horse appeared on the road
a stranger to every one. The speed of
the animal was marvelous. Where the
hrse fume from or to whom he belonged
noboely seemed to know. The driver
watched for Bonner. After a sharp contest
he actually distanced Dexter. The thrill of
excitement was indescribable. Bonner
turned his horse into the sbei and had him
b'auketeel. WiUl street was scarcely ever
more excited than was the road that after
noon. In a short time Dexter reappeared,
and here his pale antagonist was ready for
the contest ttonner put np the top
of his wagon, which, as horsemen know,
inakrH a f-reat dillr.rt-uco in speed. The
white horse camo tearing along at a mar
vellous gait Bonner sprang to his feet
and gave a screech that migBt have been
heard in Westchester county. Dexter
heard and undeistod the signal, buckled
to his work, and left the white horse so far
behind that he was net to be mentioned tke
same afternoon. Thunders of applause aU
teuded Bonner on the course, and as the
kiug of the road came back there were
hundreds that would have crowned hirai
wuu laurels. lhe teat 01 that aiternoon
induced horsemen to say that Dexter is
capable of anything.
A JurxiE Becoxes Iksae in the Cocbt
Room. In the United States District Court
at Trenton, New Jersey, on Tuesday, during
the progress of an argument by tbe Dis
trit Attorney, Judge Field, who was on the
bench, rose from his seat and vitn Lis
f ice lo the westerly wall of the court house,
lifted up his hands, beat theair wildly with
them aud shouted out, "It is no use, it is
no nse, gentlemen: yon will have to indict
the Judge 1" und then he shrieked and fell
toward the wall, but was fortunately caught
and conveved, in an insensible condition.
to LU chambers in the State House. The
scene created great confusion. Medical aid
was promptly obtained, and it was learned
about half an hour afterwards, that the at
tack had resulted from over application of
study and worry of ra nd.
AbVERTistso. There is no doubt that the
Kreat lever in the n tension of a business, in
tin-so go-ahead times, is advertising; tut ihe
iniineuie popularity of that celebrated rem
eely for dynpeoeia, liver complaiut, nervous
debility, Ac, Hootland's Oerman Uittcrt, u
not eo iuiv.-h owing to the fact that il his been
extensively advertised, aa it ia to the great
merit of the article.
A worthless medicine may, through rub-
Leity, acquire a short lived notoriety, but -it
riqinr-s (be l ain o true merit, iu order to
xuniAiu iir.-;r f r any con-iilerable length of
time. HoolluuU's German Bitters- has 1-ern
known to the American public tor more thau
twenty ve&tH; each day adding some new
orrxd of ii virtues and great curative wo-
pertio. Thi biltor$ is entirely free from all
aicouoiic a nntsiure.
IteotUud's German Tonic is a combination
of all tbe ingredients or the bitters, with pure
Santa Cruz Ham, orange, anie, Ac, ni.tkniR
a prepiration or rare medical value. Th
Tonic is n-ed for the same diseases as the
Bitters; in cases where aomo alcoholic stimu
lus is necessary.
The CrifA&n Mail Line of gteaiuehips leave
weekly from New York, Liverpool and
OiiPAiixtown. Airents in all the principal
cities ( Hie Northwest. 8. Rowe, General
Western Agent to. 2 Lako street thieairo
Pbcssino's Celebrated Cider Vinegar is the
best in the market Ask your grocer .'or it,
Young Folks' Department.
A QUESTION AND ANSWER.
Wherfl U the Ooi, my dearest c!d:d,
ri ,wu",,.'him irajest tinily t ;
aii' fined ftraii" ahaii r,
It thou ilobt tell mo u.JiUy.'M
An J facuTKoo-T in'ir .-T.-';n,rrJ
ck.11 have niy pretty li'Uots itite,
ir I t..iu di tell m where Us not,
h im I ask to ble-ia me nU.!
From the French.
yon ever Jl id a dead butterfly?"
inquired i,ecn; hr thero must be thousand-,
that die e.vtry- year before they're
half worn out, or have gatr to be old crip
"Weal," said L "I never f jiir. 1 Intone
dead butterfly, and that was a Wood Ring
lot two years ago, in the w.xhI b.-yon 1 tho
church.' nenryand 'I wera comm home
one evening, nttfr a - long Of y. at trotu
Gshing. and there before us in theptli hy
the poor Ringlet, quite dcaiid off. bay.
quits perfect, and bo(h his ante.ui.ai un
broken. What was the cause of ricatu I
can't say; and there was no. oroner to
hold an lnquestl'. .
"Heart disease, perhaps, papa?" .
", not heart dise ," I replied, "be
cause butterflies are fx wiser than men
and women, and don't poisou themselves
with too much eating and drinking, "or
fooel which they cau't digest; they brealhb
fresh air, and can't have their Lloeid poison
ed by drains. Nine huudred and ninsty
ont of a thousand, depend on it, livj nt
tLeir full time. . Here -and there cue gets
snapped op by a hungry bird.'a fly-catche?.
a water-wagtail, 01 swallow; but most of
them live to a good old age, and die in
peace." ' , ; , , . ,.
- Bat still," says- insatiabla Vieil, "they
must ihe somewhere, and bo vr is it wa
don't find tho Vnd?" r.r"y.".
"No doubt," I replied, "you wonld fin.l
somo of them, if you looked in the rigl t
places, dowa among the thick leaves neir
the roots of tbe grass in the hedge row, hi
the quietest, secret crannies, wherever in
wood and field and roadside there mot
perfect shelter from cold and win J. There,
the poor worn-out butterfly, after Lis lirtlo
life of sunny pleasure and holiday -ciakinp ,'
creeps in, and dies a lonely death, alt r
which, perhaps, the antd tat him up, or a
stray waup or two, or some atrav insects in
search of a morsel of food, set on him, and
suck out of hisbotly whit little moistnre
there may be left in him. Then comes a
touch of autumnal frost cracks all Lis brit
tle wings and legs up into broken frag
ments, and perhaps half Inries him with a
sprinkle of earth frciu tho next day's thaw;
no wonder that we rind so lew dead butter
flies. GoodWort ;
"Keep Away from the
Just beyond Mr. Sanford's grouudstheie
lay a beantiful pond in whieh were laire
numbers of fiuh, both perch- and picker-1,
while on the top of the rater, near to the.
edga, were growing those fljwtrs that re
mind ns of holiness and haven - ir hjle
liUen. On one side of the poul there was a
high bank covered with beautiful flowers.7
Repeats ly llr. S.tnford had warned bis
children against going down to this bank,
lest some of them shonld Jail over into the
pond, where the water was 'eep enough to
drown the biggest of them. '
On the last Fourth of July WYlie Sanford
and his sisters and littler-brother had gona
oat to gather wild flowers, to make some
bouquets to givo to little friends who had :
come from the city to spend the Fourth
Seeing some very beantiful flowers on
the bank, Willie thought tht for this once
he might go, even thongh his father bad
prohibited Lim, and on" reaching out his
hand to pluck some, slipped, und lell over
into the water. With tha exception of tin
little brothers, all tha children ran to get
help. Miry ran back to tho house for ma. '
another went to the barn for a ladder :nd '
another for ropes, while little Jamie, only 1
four years old, stood an! cried. . . .
Mr. Sanfonl, who was at work a little
way ofl, heard the cries and hastened to the
spot just in time to save Willie.
The other children did the- be t they
could, but little Jamie did more tuan all; ,
his crua brought th- father in time. Bv '
the time the mother reached the place, and
the rope anil JadJerJxad been brought
would have been 100 late. .
1. Learn from this, little reader, that the
youngest amoug you cad do something,
even if it should be to ask your fathr and '
mother to siizn the pledce if thev have .-
not-or yonr comp iuions to biiu it, and ,
come with you to Sabbath school and tem
perance meetings. '
i. Learn never to disobey your pirent-i. '
3. Krtp utcay from the hjt of the pool of
drunkenness. The ed 'o may be verv pleas
ant and fascinating to look at The flow
ers of pleasure may grow therj. You uny
see others drink now andaaain. andarDear
as if thev enjoyed it and yet vtr fall into
the pool or (ironKeiiUess. ,
A Ulie Sanford tell r,s he had seen others
gather flowers on that bank, and not fall '
ia, and he thought he could.
So you may think there is- no danger in :
your just taking a few flowers this onc
in drinking a very little inst this once.
Take heed, children, "Keep awav trom the
edge." Do not tout-h a droD." Yo irV
Temperance II inner. -. .
Better than Berries.
A writer in the Youth's Comranion nar
rates this pretty incident:. .
A city missionary was visitinc in one ol
those ccurts in a city, where the Mouses
are crowded with inbrtlit.-ndf. and where
every room is tLc dwelling- of a separate
family, and, iu a lone- room at the top of
oue of these houses, he met with an ayed
woman, whose scanty pittance of half a
crown a week was scacrely f-ufBcient for a
bare subsistence. -
He observed, in r broken teu-not that
stood at the window, a stia berry plant
growing. He retrUi i'uuv Hum ta time,
how it continued to grow, and wiih what
care it was watched and t nded. -
"Your plant flourishes nteulv; vou will :
soon have strawberries nptn it."
"U, sir, Teplied tho woiuau, "it is net
for the sake of the fruit that I prizs it : but
I am very poor, too poor to keepany Itvtcg
creature, and it is a great comfoit to me te
nvo that living plant, for I ke.ov it can
only live by the power of G d; -aid, as I
see it live and grow lrom dsy to day, it tells
me mat uoet is near. . - -
3'.). I am a word of nine letters. Part of
a 4. 1, 5, li. K of si-honlbovs "oint? home to
7. 8, 2 one evening, began to 7, 8, 5, 6, 8 a
poor girl, who 6. 0, 7 on oue of the banks,
bTjiW-1, '3 8 side bnf tfrey Knr"l dL.
their 9, S, 1, 9875. 7 upon seeing their
master coming 3, 4, 2, 9 with a 4, 5, 3 8
iu bis hand. However, they weTe justly
punisheel next morning for their bad con
duct Jly whole is a town in Pennsylva
TarssiNa's Viseoar. We tako pleasure In
calling tho Uen!mu of our remters to the
ailvertiHement of PmsMinf'- Vinnir Tl,;
is una of the very few vinegars, if not the
onlv one, which is entirely free from all m n
eral and poisnuoas ac.id.i. VI11I3 so manv
health-destroying adult-rations a:e painicd
off under tho name ef vinegar, wholesale
buyers ahoukl look well to then s-inre s of
supply, and we a.lvi- them to give 3Ir. l"ms
sing's Luu-e a ca'l before pcrchae iisg. ilav-
lUK been e-tabli-hefl f ir thi pa-t twenty
years, Mr. I'r.isring fcas nceeeeled in erect
ing tho largest works in tho United States, -yet
we are informed he can scarcely tu; If
the di in ind, as thooH who nso hia viaeirar
will have no other. Omrnurcinl lunex.
Thic 1!kst and OiueiUAL To.vio of Iron.
l'ho-..li )rnn in 1 Caiir-aya, knows as Casweu,
Mack A I o.Vt rerrivi'riosohorated iJixir or
I'alisaxa lla-k. The iron restores cednr t
the blood, the I'h -jsphorus renew waste of
the nerve tissue, and the valinaa gives a
natural, heahht'ul ton-1 to the eli3tive or
gans, llie-roby cui ing Liysj.eosiaMi its various
forniR. VTtkernlitva C.,.n.r-i.! TVilu'iK- iwl
lepre.-i.-n of Spirit!.. Viaunfacture'd only
by CASWKLI-, HAZARD t CO., uurcesaojs
to Caswell, JIikA C ., S Z'.i'j. Ho! t -all
Os ACC.iiT yf th lep-.;rt:irw of Mr. Men
delr.on.of the firm Th. A G. Meudtl-on,
importers aud j itU-n of elie-ro aud cloak
Irimnv.ug!?, zepLvr mmti Is, embroideries',
buttons aud noliJns, they will sell their en
tire stock of givd .;t tost price, m as to
make room f.,.- the n-w nt.H-k for fall trade,
winch will l.e r''-;el i-i Europe. Th. A
(. aie.nil-.-lM",. i'.-i.f strert, Chicago
Ok.namknis lor lhe head may greatly en
hance the beauty of a ia.U's hair, but can
never compensate for the loss of it- If, funn
anv cause, gentle reader, yours is falling off,
resort immediately to the wonderful euro
winch lies in liim-'a Vegetable Ambrosia.
CosvutcE jonrself ef I's wondeiful merits
bv buying a bottle of Perkins, ttern A Co.'s
Pacific 'iue LiUert. For Bale by all drncr
Kisla and grocers, and wholesale at 31 and 30
La Sails street, Chicago.