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,The Irish Bride of an Englishman.
A STORY Or THESE TIMES.
CM A IT Ell I.
"I don't see why I shouldn't rut In a
montlr' them vi-rv comt'ortahly," says
Geoffrey, indolently, pulling the ears of J
a pretty, saucy little fat terrier that sns
blinking at him, with brown eyes full of
love, on a chair close by. "And it will
be something new to po to Ireland ut all
events. It id rather out of the running
these times, so probably will prove in
teresting; and at least there Is a chance
that one wout meet every town ac
quaintance round every comer. That's
the worry of going abroad, and I'm
heartily sick of the whole thing."
"Voii will get murdered," says his
mother, quite as Indolently, half open
ing her eyes, which an? gray as Geof
frey's own. "They always kill people,
with things they cull pikes, or burn
them out of house and home, over there,
without either rhyme or reason."
"They certainly must be a lively lot,
if all one hears Is true," says Geoffrey,
with a suppressed y awn.
"Vou are not really going there.
"To what part of Ireland"
"S unewhere beyond Bantry; you have
heard of Bantry Uay?"
"Oh. I dare sayl 1 am not sure," says
Lady llodney, pettishly, who is rather
annoyed at the idea of his going to Ire
land, having other plans in view for
"Ever heard of IMany Day?" asks he.
idly; but, this question being distinctly
frivolous, she takes no notice of it.
'Well, it's in Ireland," he goes on, afU-r
a slight but dignified pause. "Vou
have heard of the Emerald Isle, I sup
pose? It's the country where they
grow potatoes, and say 'bedad,' and
Bantry is somewhere south, I think.
I'm never very sure about anything;
that's one of my charms."
"A very doubtful charm."
"The name of the place I mean to
stay at my own actual propertyis
oiled Cooluagurtheeii," goes on Geof
frey, heedless of her censure
' Kb?" says Lady llodaey.
"I always said you were clever," says
tils mother, languidly; "now 1 believe
it. I don't think if I lived forever I
should be able to pronounce such a had
word as that. Dodo the natives spoak
"I'll tell you when I come back'" says
Geoffrey, "if I evej do!"
"So stupid of your uncle to leave you
a property In such a countryl" says
Lady llodney, discontentedly. "Liut
very' like lura, certainly, llo was never
happy unless he was buying land in
s-me uninhabitable placo. There was
that farm in Wulluchhv your cousin
Jane nearly died of chagrin when she
f uiiJ it was Uf t to her, and the lawyers
tr-W her she should fcike it, whether she
liked it cr not Wullachia! I don't
Know wntre it is, but I am sure it is
elos to the Bulgarian atrocities! I wish
you would come with me to the Nu
genU" "My dear mother, there is hardly any
thing I wouldn't do for you; but the
Xugcnt scheme wouldn't suit at all.
Thai girl of the Cheviots is sure to bo
there. you know how fond Bessie Nji
gent is of her? and I know she is bent
on marrying uie."
"Nousem-el Would you have me be
lieve you are afraid of her?''
"I am afraid of her; I never was so
afraid of anyone before. I have made
, It the business of toy life to avoid her
ever since last New Vcar's-day. when
some kind fellow told me it was leap
yt nr. Von know 1 never yet said 'No'
to any one. and I shouldn't dare Wgiu
by buying it to Miss Cheviot. She lias
such a stony glare, and such a profusion
"And a profusion of gold, too," bays
Lady llodney, with a sigh.
"1 hope Hhe has. poor soul; she will
want it," says Geoffrey, feelingly; nnd
then he falls to whistling the "Two
Ob.Kliahs'' softly, yet with a relish, be
nenlh his breath.
"How long do you Intend to banish
yourself from civilized life? '
'A month, I dare syy. Longer, if I
like it: shorter, if I don't. By the bye,
you told me .lie other day it was the
dream of your lite to see mo In l'urluv
ment, now that 'Old Nick' has decided
on leading a sedentary existence-
very stupid decision on his part, by the
way, so clever as he is.
"He, is not strong, you see; a little
thing knocks him up, and he is too iiq
presMonable ,for a public career. But
jounre dUTorent. Well, don't go to
I lublin it's wretched form. I dare say
when you come back you will be more
Irish than the Irish."
"I shouldn't wonder, and as I am de
termined, you would udvise nie to study
the people, would you not?"
"By all means, study them, if you
are b?nt on this tiresome journey. It
may do you good. Vou will at least
be more ready to take my adv ice at an
"What a dismal view you take of my
trip! lViliiips, in spite of your fore-
houings, I shall enjoy myself down to
the ground, and weep copiously on
' leaving Irish soil."
"l'crliaps. I hope you won't get into
a mess there una make me more un
lumpy than 1 am. Wo are uneoinforta.
ble enough without that. Vou know
you are always doing something bizarre
something rash and uncommon I"
now nice; says Geoilrey, with a
careless smile. "Your 'faint praise'
fails 'to damn!' ' Why, one is nothing
, nowadays if not eccentric. Well," rnov
jngtowardti the door, with the fox-ter-
. rier at his heels, "1 shall start on Mon
day. 1 hat will gvt me down in time
for the 12th. Shall I send you up any
! "Thanks, dear; you arc always good,"
murmured Lady Bodney, who has ever
n evo to tho mau chance.
. "if there are any," bays Geoffrey
With a twinkle in his eye.
"If there are any," repeals she, un
It is early morn. "The first low
breath of waking day Btirs tho wide
air." On bush and tree and opening
flower the dew lies beavily, like dia
monds glistening in the light of the
round sun. Tbin clouds of pearly haze
float slowly o'er the sky to meet its
Do loco the (ii'WluR cloud in yonder wt
Geoilrey, with his gun upon his shoul
dcr, trudges steadily onward, rejoicing
in the freshness of the morning air.
His good dog is at bis heels; a boy
procured from some neighboring cabin,
and warranted not to wear out. however
long Uie journey to be undertaken or
bow many the miles to travel carries
bis bag beside him- Game as yet is not
exactly plentiful; there is, indeed, a set
tled uncertainty us to whether one
may or may not have a good day's sport.
Anil yet this very uncertainty gives an
additional excitement to the game.
Here and there a pack is discovered,
so unexpectedly as to be doubly wel
come. And sometimes a friendly na
tive will tell him of some quiet corner
where l,his honor" will surely find some
birds, "an' be able in tho eveuin' to
show raison. for his blazin.' " It is a
somewhat wild life, but a pleasant one,
nnd perhaps, on the whole. Mr. llodney
finds Ireland an agreeable take-in, and
the inhabitants of it by no means as
eccentric or as blood-thirsty as he has
iK-en led to believe. He has read in
numerable works on the Irish jieasant
ry, calculated to raise laughter in the
breasts of those who claim tho Emerald
Isle as their own works written by
leople w ho have never seen Ireland, or,
having seen it, thought it a pity to de
stroy the glamour time has thrown over
it, and so reduce it to eommonplaoeness.
lie is. for instance, surprised, and in
deed somewhat relieved, when lie dis
covers that the drivers of the jaunting
cars that take him on his shooting ex
peditions are not all modern Joe Mil
lers, and do not let off witty remarks,
like bomb-shells, every two minutes.
He is perhaps di sap minted in that
every Irish cloak does not conceal a
face beautiful as an boon's. And he
learns by degrees that only one in ten
says "bedad'," and that "och. murther!"
is an f xpression almost extinct.
Altogether, things are very disap
pointing; though perhaps there is com
fort in the thought that no one is wait
ing round a comer, or lying jrdn in a
ditch, rtady'to smash the first comer
with a blackthorn stick, or reduce him
to submission with a pike, irrespective
of cause or reason.
llodney, with the boy at his side, is
covering ground in a state of blissful
uncertainty. He maybe a mile from
home, or ten miles for all be knows,
ami the boy seems none the wiser.
"Where are we now?" Rays Geoffrey,
stopping suddenly and facing the lxy.
"1 don't know, sir."
"But you said you knew the entire
locality couldn't be puzzled within a
radius of thirty miles. How far are we
I don t know, sir. I never was
abroad before, an' I'm dead bate now,
and tho bag's like lead."
"iourea nice boy, you are!" Bays
Mr. llodney. "Here, give me tho bag!
l'crliaps you would like me to carry you
too; but I shan't, so you needn't ask me.
Are you hungry?'.'
No, says the boy valiantly; but he
looks hungry, and Geoffrey's heart
smites him, the more in that be is starv
"Come a little farther," he says, gent
ly, slinging the heavy bag across bis
own I'houlders. "There must be a farm
There is. In the distance, imbedded
in trees, lies an extensive farmstead,
larger mid more home-like than any be
has yet seen.
"Now,thcn, cheer up, Baddy!" bo says
to the boy; "yonder lies an oasis in our
Whereat tho boy smiles and grins
consumedly, as though charmed with
his companion's metaphor, though in
reality he understands it not at all.
As they draw still nearer Geoffrey be
comes aware that tho farm-yard before
him is rich with life. Cocks ure crow
ing, geese are cackling, and in the midst
of all this life stands a girl with her
back turned to tho weary travelers.
"Wait here," says Geoffrey to his
squire, and, going forward, rests tho
bag upon a wall, and waits until the
girl in question shall turn her head.'
When she does move be is still
silent, for, behold, stc has turned Im
She is country bred, and clothed In
country garments, yet her beauty is too
great to he deniable. Sho is not "di
vinely tall," but rather of medium
height, with an oval face, and eyes of
"heaven s own blue. She is chid in a
snowy gown of simple cotton, that sits
looselv to her lissom figure yet fails to
disguise the beauty of it. A white
kirchiefhes softly on her neck. She
has pulled up her sleeves, ho that her
linns are bare-her soft, round, naked
arms that in themselves are a perfect
picture. Sho is standing with her head
well thrown buck, and her bands full
of corn lil ted high in the air, us sho
cries aloud. "Cooee! Cooee!" in a clear,
Presently her cry is answered, A
thick cloud of pigeons blown and
w hite and bi ouzo and gray - come wheel
ing into siht from Uhind the old
house, and tumble down upon her in a
reckless fashion. They perch upon her
head, her shoulders, her white soft
arms, even her hands, and one, more
adventurous than the rest, has even
tried to lind a hlippory resting-place up'
on her bosom.
"What greedy little things!" cries she
aloud, with the merriest laugh in the
world. "Sure, you can't eat more than
enough, can yon? an' do your l'st! Oh,
Brownie," reproachfully, "what a self
ish bird you are!"
Here Geoffrey comes forward ouietlv
and lifts his hat to her with all' the air
of ajnan who is doing homage to
princess. It has occurred to him that
jMirhapH this peerless beitur In the cot
ton gown will fi el some natural r.luim'tn
on being dlseo'vered by one of the oppo
OAibY CAIRO BULLETIN:
site sex with her sleeves tucked up.
But in this instance his knowledge of
human nature receives a severe shock.
Far from Mug disconcerted, this
farm-yard goddess is not even ashamed
(as indeed how could she bo?) of her
naked arms, and, coming up to him,
rests them upon the upper rung of tho
entrance gate mid surveys hltn calmly,
"What can I do for you?" she asks,
"I think." says Geoffrey, slightly dis
concerted by the sweet leisure of her
gaze, "I have lost my way. I have boon
walking since sunrise, and I want you
to tell me where I am."
"Vou are at Mangle Farm," returns
she. "That doesn't seem to help you
much, does it?"
"I confess it doesn't help meat all,"
he says. "Mangle Farm, I am sure, is
the most attractive spot on earth, but
it tells me nothing about latitude and
longitude. Give me some further help."
"Then tell me where you come from,
and perhaps I may bo able." Sho speaks
softly, but quickly, as do all the Irish,
and with a brogue musical but unmis
takable. "I am staying at a shooting-lodge
called Coolnagurthecn. Do you know
where that Is?"
"Oh, of course," returns she, with a
sudden accession of animation. "I
have often seen it That is where tho
young English gentleman is staying for
"Quit right. And I am the young
English gentleman," says Geoffrey, lift
ing his hat again by way of introduc
tion. "Indeed, are you?" asks she. raising
her pretty brows. "I might have guessed
it," sho says, after a minute's survey of
the tall eray-coated young man before
her. "Vou are vot like the others
"Am I not?" says he, humbly. "Tell
me my taint,"
I will when I find it," returns she.
with an irrepressible glance, full of na
tive but innocent coquetry, from her
At this moment one of tho pigeons
a small, pretty thing, bronze-tinged
flies to her, and, resting on her shoul
der, makes a tender cooing sound, and
picks at her cheek reproachfully, as
though imploring more corn.
Would you bite me?" murmurs she,
fondly, as the bird flies off again alarm
ed at the presence of the tall stranger.
"Every morning they torment me like
thiV'M.e tyys turning to Geoilrey,
with a little pleasant, confidential nod.
"Hp looked as if he wanted to eat
you; and I'm sur I don't wonder at it."
says Geoffrey, making the addition to
his speech in a lower key.
"And have you walked from Coolna
gurtheeu this morning? Why, it is
eight mih-'S from this," says 6he, taking
no notice of his List speech. "Vou
could have bad no breakfast."
"Not yet; but I suppose there must be
a village near here, nnd an Inn, and 1
want you to direct me how to pet to it.
I am giving you a great od of trouble."
remorsefully , "but my boy knows noth
ing." "The village is two miles farther on
1 think vou had le tter come In and
breakfast here. L'ncle will be very
glad to see you," she says, hospitably.
"And you must be tired."
He hesitates. He m tin-d, and hun
gry, too; there Is no denying it. Even
as he hesitates, a girl coming out to the
door-steps puts her hand over her eyes,
and shouts pleasantly from afar to her
"Miss Mona, come in; the tay will be
cold, an' the rashers all spoiled, an' the
masther's callln' for ye."
"(me, hurry," says Mona, turning
to Geoffrey, with a light laugh that
seems to spring from her very heart.
Would you have the 'tay' get cold
while you ure making up your mind? I
ut least must go."
1 hen, thank you, und I shall go with
you, if you will ullow me," says Geof
frey, hurriedly, us bo sees her disap
learing. "1 ell your boy to go to the kitchen.
says .Mona. thoughtfully, und, ruddy
being disMised of, she and Geoilrey go
on to the house.
I have no card; but mv name is
Geoffrey llodney," says the young nlan,
turning to his companion.
"And mine is Mona Scullv," returns
sho, with tho suiilo that sueius part of
her lips, und which already has en
graven itself on Mr. llodney s heart
Now, I supiKise, we know each other."
They walk up two steps, and enter a
small ball, and then ho follows her into
a room opening off it, In which treat
fast lies prepared.
An old man, rugged but kindly-featured,
rises on his entrance, and gazes
at him exjwetuiitly. Mona, going up to
him, rests her hand upon his arm, and,
indicating Geoffrey by a gesture, says,
in a low tono;
"He has lost bis way. lie is tired,
ana l nave asKca mm in to have some
breakfast. Bo is tho English gentle
man who is living at Coolnngurtheen."
"Vou 're kindly welcome, Bir," says
the old man, bowing with tho slow and
heavy movement that belongs to tho
aged. There is dignity and warmth,
however, in trio salute, and (Jeotlrev ua
cepts with pleasure, the toil-worn hand
his host presents to him a moment
later. Tho breakfast is good, and,
though composed of only country fare.
is dcli'jious to tho young man, who has
been walking since dawn, and whoso
appetite Just now would have astonish
ed those dwelling In crowded towns aia
living only ou their excitements.
Mona pours out the tea which is ex-
cellent and pub? tn tho cream which Is
a tiling to dream of with a liberal
band. She smiles at Geoffrey aenws
t ne sugar-bowl, unu emitters to him
over the big Itow l of flowers that lies in
tlm centre or tne table.
His host going to tho window when
breakfast is ut an end, Geoffrey follows
him; and both look out upon the little
garden beforo them that is so carefully
and lovingly tended.
"It Is all her doing," says tho old man
"Moim's, I mean. She loves those,
flowers more than anything on earth, I
think. Her mother was tho same; but
Hlie wasn t hall me um that Mona l
Never a morula' In the cowhl winter
but sue goes om mere to bee. if tho
frost hasn't killed some of Vjd tho
"There is hardly uny tasto so charm
ing or so engrossing as that for flowers,"
says GeutTtey. "My rrrotlier and cousin
do a great deal of that sort of thing
when at home."
"Ay, it looks pretty and gives the
;iild something to do." There is a re
gretful ring in his tone that induces
'jeoflrey to ask the next question.
"Docs she does Miss Scully find
sountry life unsatisfying? Hus sho not
;ived here ulways?"
"I.e.w. no, sir," says the old man,
with a loud and hearty laugh. "I think
if ye could see the connthry girls round
hi re. an' compare 'em with my Mona,
you'd see that for yerself. Sho's us lino
as the queen to. them. Her mother, you
see, was tho parson's daughter down
here; tip top she was, and ptirty'aa a
fairy, but mighty delicate; looked as if
a March wind would blow her into
heaven. Dan-he was a brother of
mine, an'a solicitor in Dublin. You've
ltoen there, belike?"
" i' es, I stopped there for two or three
days on my way down here. Well, and
yoiir brother?" He cannot to himself
explain the interest ho focls In this
"Dan? lie was a fine man, surely;
six feet in bis stockln', he was, an' eyes
like a woman's. He come down hero
an' met her, an' she married him.
Nothing would stop her, though tho
parson w as lit to be tied atomt it. An'
of course he was no match for her
father bein' only a bricklayer when he
liegan lift but still I will say Dan was
a lino man, an' one to think about; an'
no two ways in him, an' thtit soft about
the heart. He worshipped tho ground
she walked on; an' four years after
their marriage she told mo herself she
never had an ache in her heart since
she married him. That was flno tellln',
sir, wasn't it? Four years, mind ye.
Why, when Mary was alive (my wife,
sir,) we had a shindy twhv a week,
reg'lar as clock-work. We wouldn't have
known ourselves without it; but, how
ever, that's nayt'ocr here nor there,"
says Mr. Scully, pulling himself up
short. "An' I ask yer pardon, sir, foi
pushing private matters on yo like
. "But you have interested mo," says
Geoffrey, seating himself on the broad
sill of the window, as though preparing
for a long dissertation on matters still
unknown. "Bray tell mo how your
brother and his "lovely wifewho evi
dently wa.? as wise and true as she was
lovely got on."
Mr. llodr.ey's face being of that rare
kind that is as tender as it Is manly,
and by right of its beauty demands con
tidene'e. the old man (who dearly loves
bis own voice) is tiictjuragedtoproiwl.
"They didn't get on for long," ho
says, mournfully and what voice is so
full of melancholy as the Irish voice
wl'ien i sinks into sadness? "When the
little one Mona was barely five years
(Id. tl.ey wvnt to ground; Mount
Jerome got them. Fever it was; and it
carried Vm both r.2 just while ye'dhave
time to look n-irid ye. Boor souls, they
went to the l'!v-d land together. I'er-
haps the !!. ! Virgin knew they would
.:lv.- r-,.t r
:iO'..t eje-h otVr
"And the child-Miss Mora?" asks
She went to live in Anthrim with
her mother's siV.er. Later she got to
Dublin, to her aunt there another of
the parson's daughters, who married
the l'rovt t in Thrinty; a proud sort he
was, an' awful tiresome with his (rks
an' bis ll'iriaiis, at,' not the height of
yer thumb." s.:ys Mr. Scully, with in
effable cont'-mi t. "I went to Dublin
one dav aLoMt catt'e, and called to w.:
me niece: an" she bjok to nn, bless her,
an' I brought her down h' re with me
for change "f air, for her cheeks were
whiter than a llecoe of wool, an' hj Im
btaid ever since. Dear soul! I hopo
she'll stay forever. She Is welcome."
"She must be i great comfort to you,"
says Geoffrey, 1'iom his heart.
"She i.i that. More than I can say.
An' keeps things together, too. She is
clever like her lather, an' he was on tho
fair wav to make u fortune. Ay, I al
ways say it, law is tho thing that pays
in Ireland. A good sound light sets
them up. But I'm keeping V'1. wi'
your gun is waitm' lor yo. If you
haven't had enough of me company by
this time," with another Jolly laugh,
"i 11 take ye down to a held bard by, an'
show yo where I saw a fine young covey
"I I should like to say good-bye to
Miss Mona, and thank her for all her
goodness to me, before going," says
tho young man. rising somewhat slowly.
"Nay, you can say all that on your
way beck, an' get a half-shot into tho
Kirgain." savs old Scully, heartily.
"You'll hardly beat the potheen I can
give ye." llo winks knowingly, pats
llodney on tho shoulder, und leads tho
way out of tho house. et I think
Geoffrey would willingly have bartered
potheen, partridge, and a good deal
more, for just one last glance at Mona's
beautiful face beforo parting. Cheered
however, by tho prospect that ho may
seo her beforo night falls, be follows tho
farmer into the open air.
It is ten days later. The air Is grow
ing brisker, the llowcrs bear no now
buds. More leaves urn falling on
the woodland paths, and thf trees are
throwing out their last bright autumn
tints of retl and brown and rlclioat or
ango, that tell all too plainly of the death
that lies before them.
It is mid-day, and Geoffrey, gun tn
hand, is idly stalking through tho slop
lug wood that rises behind Manglo
Farm.. Tho shooting he has bud since
his urrival in Ireland, though desultory
perhaps becanso ot it has tnroved de
lightf til In his sight. Hero coveys couio
upon ono unawares, rinlng out of fields
when least expected, und thereforo
when discovered possess all the novelty
of a gigantic surprise. Now and then
He receives kindly warning of birds seen
"over-night in some particular corner
and an offer to eseoit him to the sceno
of action without beat of drum.
As for instance, in tho morning his
man assails him with tho news that
Mickey Brian or Dintiy Collins (he has
grown quite famjUiwr with U9 KS9trz
MAY 21, "l6S2.
round) "la without and would like to
Bjake wld him. Need I remark that ho
has wisely hired his own particular at
tendant from among tho gay and festive
youths of Bantry V
Whereupon ho exs "without."
which means to ids own hall-door that
always stands wide open, and there ac
knowledges the presenco of Mickey or
Pinny, as the case may lie, with a gra
cious nod. Mickey instantly removes
his caubeen and tells "his honor" (re
gardless of the fact that his honor can
tell this for himself) that "it is u gran'
fine day," which as a rule is the first
thing an Irish person will always say
on greeting you, as though full of thank
fulness to tlie powers above, in that
sweet weather has been given.
Ill-luck has attended his efforts to
day, or else his thoughts have been
wandering in the land where love holds
sway, because he is empty handed. Tho
bonnlolKown bird has escaped him, and
no gift is near to lay at Mona's shrine.
As ho reaches the broad stream that
divides him from tho land ho would
reach, ho pauses and tries to think of
any decent excuse tliat may enable him
to walk with a bold front up to the cot
tage door. Hut no such excuse pre
sents itself. Memory proves false. It
refuses to assist him. Hols almost in
He tries to persuade himself that
there is nothing strange or uncommon
n calling upon Wednesday to inquire
with anxious solicitude about the health
of a young woman whom he bad soon
happy and robust on Tuesday. But the
trial is not successful, and lie is almost
on the point of flinging up the argument
and going home again, when his eyo
lights upon a fern, small but rare, and
very beautiful, that, growing on a high
rock far abovo him, overhangs the
It is a fern for which Mona has long
been wishing. Oh! happy thought!
She. has expressed for it the keenest ad
miration. Oh!, blissful remembrance!
Sho has not ono like it in all her collec
tion. Oh! certainly full of rapture!
Now will he seize this blessed oppor
tunity, and, laden with the spoils of
war, approach her dwelling (already she
is "s1mj,") and triumphantly, albeit
lumbly, lay tlio fern at her feet, and so
perchance gain the right to bask for a
few minutes In the sunshine of her
A branch of a tree overspreading the
water catches his attention. It is not
strong, but it suggests ltaolf as a means
o the desired end. It is indeed sltm to
a fault, and unsatisfactory to an alarm
ing degree, but it must do, and Geoffrey
swings himself up to it, tries it first,
and then standing boldly upon it, leans
over towards tho spot where the fern
can lie Been.
It is ratlier beyond his reach, but be
is determined not to be outdone. Of
courno, by stepping into the water, and
climbing the slimy rock that holds the
desired treasure, it can be gained, but
with a Lazy desire to keep his ivoots dty,
he clings to his preeent position, regard
loss of tho fact that bruised rlc-sh (if
nothing worse) would probably I the
result of I1I4 daring.
He has stooped over very much in
deed. His band Is on the fern; he has
safely, carefully extracted it, roots and
all (re would think I was speaking of
a tooth! but this is by the way), from
ita native home, when cr-r-k goes some
thing", the branch on which he rests be
trays him, and smashing hurls him head
downwards into the 6Wift but shallow
A very charming vision clad in Ox
ford shirting, and with a gttiat white
hat tied beneath her rounded chin w ith
blue ribbons something in the style of
a Sir Joshua lteynxdds emerges from
amoin; tti low-lying firs at this mo
ment. Having waWiod the (nwnlngly)
light .catastrophe from afar, and being
apparently arxiusexi by It, bho now gives
way to unmistakable mirth and laughs
aloud. When Mona laughs, slwi d'ieh it
with all her he-art, the correct method
of suppressing all emotion, bo It of joy
or sorrow regarding it as a recreation
jx-nnltte1 only to the vulgar being as
yet unlearned by her. Therefore her
expression of merriment rings gayly
and unchecked through the old woixl
Wut presently, wn-ing the author of
her mirth does not rise from his watery
resting-placo, h:r smllo fades, a little
frightened Iwk creeps Into her eyes,
and, hastening forward, alio reaches the
bank of the stream and gazes into it
Itodney Is lying face downwards in tho
water, bis head having come with souh
force against tho sharp edge of a utono
against which it is now resting.
Mona turns deadly pale, arid then In
Btlnctively loosening tho Btrings of her
hat flings it from her. A touch of de
termination Bottles upon her lips, so
prone to laughter at other timoB. Sit
ting on the bank, sho draws off her
Bhoes and stockings, and with tho help
of an alder that droops to the rivoirs
brim, lowers herself Into the water.
7b be Omlinmd.
1 m 1 m
raroioon 1. was noted for the easo
with which ho went to sleep. For weeks
at a tlmo, two hours' sleep out of the
twonty-four was sufficient for him. Ho
Is reported to have said: Different mat
tors are arranged in my head as in
drawers. 1 I open ono drawer and close
another aa I wish. If I dosiro repose I
shut up all tho drawers and sleep. I
have always slept when I wanted rest,
ami almost at will.
00 O .
"Pegging," tho now term !n the stock
market, is thus described: "The modern
... t 1 11..
financial maffnato comes oui doiujv,
hot. A itqira4 to
I'MUII nUUVUIIVVD mv
purchase, fabulous millions of some cer
tain utrwtr nanvoa nrli'A ut. Which 1)0 Is
,...U DW,, . , L U . V t avw -
ready to take all thai is offered, and sta
tions a broker to book tho names of tho
sobers and the amount oitno purcnases.
Lake Shore. Western Union and Missou-
hft "TH'tro-nd Stocks" at
nrcsonL that Is unless Jay Gould has al
Hiinn.nl nut of Wostom Union at
the high prices and taken up with Mu
tuai union, as waa roouuuy rejiuiwu
A wise man in tho company of thoso
who are trnorant has hoen compared dv
, tho sages to a bcauttfuj glyj bj tto CPiy
If yon fci I dn'y, i Minuted, knv lifqacnl be1.
ii no, mouth tf w-f, i.Mir ioi unu iuiir in
oiO'it mu k 'l' ntlrrini Inim Inrntil llvor. nr lilt-
InufnoHH, ' il 1 ooiiiij will euro oi hi i'idilv hmI
I'turnum ut tv to ;' bianun i.vi r r:xuUior
Tile bn !o! . juiri l
sua iKi-t lioiiilv mi'il-
lctni In tlif .ir il!
An FIT.'i IunISm" ilir.
for Mil diwnaitr (il tlm
l.ivvr, Slnmui h a lid
Ui:'uulttto Uj I.lvnr
II , ..s ANO lit
VKti, MA) AI'I'TS
COM e I. A I VI ,
ilA'M)l I AM)
N Al'SK A .
NmIIi'io; .p mi it,i:i, 1 mill. noUiUiL' o roninmii n
hm hrt-.n h. iti.i' 01 pi'M Iv ,'O-iv in-" li rum"- I: mi
tin) ntnmfii II. nn I mil !( ,) 1'ii.lly cooi rli (1 li mil
HI oiuc i l.mmif . ivr Ifi-Lii.a'xr. u mil i
li-i-l pn mire h rioin'i'i 1 f w 1 riMirlnivrt ilifivi i i.
ltwiiklo t!i!niO' vimr j' I'rt il e, t'itiiiii'i on,
and licutm; Iirnlili
How noiDv tnlT. r t' r'ivi. i'i,. , i ( r Aav. mnulc?
I'fn it Imr.'vn mi'l ',' 't 2 x .ri f al! p'.-ii-ih
ow'mj in Midvi.nj: In m IVo. V11 "-
lil i r 1 s. 1.1 1 he 1 nn 1 1 a in' o m t ,,, i, ,1
UKU im HI V ! I ' MH'lh UlKl i. t 11, i; i ni
ly r.uicil 1 hi 1: .hi. Mil inr' I.Ivor K, (Milium-, it
no duiH.c vinii'iii 1 ur.,c ; Un it ;i i l sn imimi so
Ml 01 I I' ' 0' r 'iu V : . ir ftir g
Hi 11. im,' 'U lul l li i"i i- .li in.ii.iU II, 111 -!Mnl
f'.ii :li f 1 1." I "''', Mi ; 1 y
tl.-vi h ni' from ! ilm-ifi li
way o;i i J.. iif il'ii.n. If i-'iMUd
,,"i'i in'v In 1'. nn.,' 1 n-) ' v 1 iMii'i
!:. t u im ii . ni 1 in li mi ' M" 'l I 1 ti' 01
.Vr I II I jl.il C Ul. tin v.i-Ci 1 1 II
v In: 0 1 i."H vr !:'i 1 ii ii.i't- ntuvmln
SICK I1KADAOJ K.
1 li ditr.'-;i cr 1 fll'c 'iiin 1 r mil mon rM (1 11
'I hO (l'i llUi.I'Mi il (,l li.c . Mll-ii i. .V I .!.; I . n. :
imporr. r t' it !, -d fi'iiii'i !, riiit ih'O!.'.' p oll
In 'llo he.'). id Miiiiaii'it ivlih rtinurrehle 1 atmi' i.
inid iln foiKl:! i'cr iv.mt i i d iiii ry kt.owo
ick licaiif rhc.
ORIGINAL AN'H ONLY G L.N U INK,
MAMl ruTI kfil Bl
J. IJ.ZKIMN Ac CO..
Price $1 h;i:tl by !! lo'.i,;;'..
p 1 V'v'
Vnninrrji IlrlS f.
I'.c flrs. u; . ..tui ti!,;ti ii t Vnt tl't"
llto. it i' ., -' n nl rv r f v t 1 '
i-iiMiiiiu iio !)- u.n tlm yntum i 1 s-i?
It U. tr 1 1 1 m.c r.t(n i.n t!w i".i-- w '
Indiix- iiii.ib r.,.'o mid nn'-.r f..i:.r :
I IHj.W.ly :;li uh ill ci -i t t :e hi f -!l
llljl! Kl.'dff I !IC V ll'K'll ' Of ' 'IR "".VOf. C-f f
dlritt -c'lmt 1 ii 0 !. r pr, fi ratitm mj !i" ''r
rt:if 'oil Ui in !,' 'ni i.o.iri. u On' t iin.iiiii. r.- l
Uifi- W rnor.. t ifi.-acuuK 'u ei! 'f , rf--.:i tif if
IU. hhl.i k' cr trtniti'li K of i!ie hni.iU nr Irvls,
itii. ftfrtno of itr.'Vr.. .r m-im ptlv iviit
till' liio.nl purif.iil.
Th virion- tin ' o' ( or d.-r Hut Ml1' t
tin' !.iiu-i'i Oi-iiiri ! it mm '
Miiptom 1 tt 1 . ,-m.iit .i! U1-;. e;i:i viv
lllUCll III t:;. ' I ll- Ti M II I I '. tflt-i
titr.v il i ,. -i 1' 1 11 v r ,!.- ii-il. o '!n hkiji.t; v
of diM-a-.'i :! cc 1 iip.n.it'il hf Inl.iy oi;. ' !i. ti ;
nit mch tKiiia On' t '. nwt in i ; '.-r to t u t
unc.b dl-c. f ! ,.hon;iit Jt :- i-i. ' pi'r-
torm tbc'.r v-'jo-r fnnrt'on. No retr -' I. r 1 - -
f.ire heco 5lm.v. rid lili b b b i.tiit i'i mi n.
flacnf e on tltej oisi. ut Kcll.i' (.'ompj jinl
Sympuf II jl-.;,'! . Iiltr-.
' k'ul si.' nr .l nruiik.ic!
Pain C.uuiol htav Wlioio
Itlillfllll.ll'Ul In 1 111, l ly
illo.M.U l'. I.lv'. I I. If 1.
A 1ilim l'''k -I.' ' ni" rlnliflinjs wnf miil,,t.
ly turtid li 11 1 n "i ll of
TA'iMAS If'f.l'.t TKIC 0:1.
L'oiiililuli ci'li' lliuul In 1 iiiul Willi one it'm.' of
lloMAh' l-.U.Ki Tl.ii' (HI,.
('biiuli" ':d I'oliln M' fi,o il l V
'I H0MA.' KCLKCTlilC Oil..
All thront unit Inim d re curtd ly
TliOMAS' El'I.KCTHlC Oil..
AnthuiB it niri'il i y
llurnt BUd frnst l.itos aro rcliered i onrc 1)
THOMAS' ECLKCTUIC 0!!..
Alwaj's iivca HntifHotion.
Bold by Mcdiein'e Dcfilcis everywhere,
rriee 50c. und $1
FOSTEIl, MII.JiUUN & CO., Prop'rs
nmTalo. N. Y.
TRAO0 Hfs Tin' OfHt EtiK
yjqajt. Imli ri'inudy. An
H.t5h uulaUliiK cure lor
nairKjr poioiu.) nan an
wSf UIpoa-oo thnl I'olow
'li an u ncuiioiicn
tJ ' T limn of ini'morv.
Before 1!Mr Mfab
dlniiioHS of Vinton, premntui'n old , jnd .many
otlti'r diHcai'i'a that U'ftil to Uismiltr, contnmitluu
or a prnmiiuue b'hvu.
r"Kull iiarilrulnrt In our pamphlet, vbh wn
rtoalrt to fiirul fmobv nuill tn cvi'ivone. frTIm
Bpcclllo.Miidlclne t oold bv hII ilruri'lit at $1 n r
tiaciiMuo, or rix pucl.nuin for )5, or will linhi'iit l.cu
bv mnuon roccli'toftho mimi'v, bv iiildn-Kliiij.
TU GHAY MBD1CINK 00.,
i lit,rnt.f, N. Y.
On Bccmnl of coiintcrfnlls, w hnvu n'lopiiid tho
Yellow Wrapper; llio oulv ti'iuulnu, Cliiiiiunlnua
Sold In Cairo by P. (J. SCHLTt.
' Wliolcauli) Asiiul(i M'.iiriiniii, Plumber A Co.,
'..V 'Tk fL'-t, jmk.