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OVER THE SNOW.
A Christmas Story.
BY MliS. MAY AGKE3 FLEMING.
From Demorest's Monthly.
"Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the new-boru King!"
Rune out from the choir, and the organist,
a slender pale-faced girl, with grave, beauti
ful brown eyes, joined in the anthem, all her
soul in the triumphal words.
It was the last piece of the rehersal. Tho
choristers threw down their books, only too
glad to get away. The organist alone re
mained, to play over once more a new volun
"Good night, Miss Enirlehart!" "Good night
MissKatherine!" "Goodnight, Katie, and a
merry Christmas Eve!" were the cries, as one
by one, men and maids, left the choir, and
went down the stairs, and out into the bright,
white Christmas night.
Miss Englehart's gravely smiling lips and
gentle brown eyes answered them all. A
moment, and she was alone, only the white,
piercing moonlight streaming through the
painted oriel over the altar and the one dim
A flare of eras lit the organ loft, but this she
lowered, and with rapt face and dreamy eyes
she played over and over again the jubilant
new voluntary. She might have gone on for
hoursshe was quite capable of itbut a
piteous yawn from the boy at the bellows re
called her from heaven to earth.
"Oh!" she said, stopping suddenly, with a
half laugh, I had forgotten you Jimmy. Well,
1 won't play any more and here, take this for
your Christmas box."
Jimmy jumped up and seized the proffered
coin with glittering eyes.
"Thanky, Miss Katie. Merry Christmas,
please ma'am," cried the boy seizing his cap.
"Ah! she's a brick, she is," said Jimmy to
himself, as she clattered down the steep stah
ease. ''Nobody among all the singers ever
thinks of the uoy that blows the bellows,
'cept her. Don't 1 jest hope she won't marry
that long-legged rooster that scorts her here
sometimes, and leave the choir for good?"
Still a few moments longer lingered Miss
Englehart on her knees. Then, she, too, hur
ried down the staircase and out into the shin
ing coldness of the starry December nitrht.
High and white and cold lay the Christmas
snow. No "green yule" this year to make fat
the kirk-yard. Cloudless and blue spread the
..ky, filled with sparkling char.stmas stars.
"Katie!" With a great start the world '.ame back
from the land of dreams. A tall man had
started up in her path, and spoke her name.
"Youpap!' the girl said in doubt and sur
prise, the color that had arisen to her face fad
"1, Kate." He drew her hand under his
arm with a laugh. "Did you think it was
Haray Hatton? Well, it is almost as good,
for I have come to talk to you of him."
Miss Knglehart loosed up, a sudden trouble
in the brown, tender eyes.
"I thought you had done talking of him,
papa," she said, a tremble in her voice. "I
thought yesterday had finished the subiect
Let me see. What did I say yesterday?"
says Mr. Englehart blandly.
"Ah! I remember that my stifi'-necked, dot
ing old client, John Hatton, had made up his
senile mind to forgive his runaway daughter,
and disinherit Harry. Under these circum
stances I very naturally told you that you
were to meet Harry no more. You are a
good girl, Katie -a very good girl"Mr.
Englehart pats paternally the little hand on
his arm"and at any sacrifice to yourself you
would have obeyed ine, I am sure. Mv dear,
it affords me great pleasure to inform you
the sacrifice will not be required."
"Papa!" the girl cries, her whole face light
ing up. "You will let me marry Harry, poor
as he is? O papa! I am not afraid of poverty
not afraid of work neither is Harry, and
"Oh, pooh! my dearpooh! nothing of the
kind. My ooinion on that point has never
changed, and never will No, no it is some
thing infinitely better than that. Old Hatton
died suddenly las' nijjht befere making the
proposed new will, aVit. all is Hallos."
Katharine Englehait uttered a faint, start
"And the old will leaving all to Harry
6**ands, and his only daughter is disinherited
and ielt out."
"Left without a stiver, my dear, and serves
her right says T. She ran away with a worth
less scamp, against her father's will,' and
like all fools/has paid the penalty of her
folly. 8he supports herself and her five
children by sewing, so I have been told, and
you know what kind of support that means.
Serves her right, I say again. John Hatton
has done what it was his duty to dowhat I
would have done in his placeeast her off,
and left her to starve with the pauper she
Iu the moonlight the face of Miss Engle
hart grows white as the snow itself, but she
walks on and does not say a word.
"However," cries her father, cheerfully,
"that is not what I want to say. Rose Hat
ton's case need never be yours. All is Harry's,
and, except his poverty, I never had any ob
jection to Harry as a son-in-law. So when he
comes to wish you merry Christmas, my dear
Katie, I give you leave to name the clay."
A strange light came into the brown eyes, a
strangely resolute expression seta the pretty,
"Is he coming to-night, papa?"
"You will find him, 1 have not the slightest
doubt, at the house, before you., It would be
hypocrisy for him to profess any grief for that
old skinflint uncle, aud Harry is no hypocrite."
"You have seen him since his uncle's
"Certainly, Katie, and wa the first to con
gratulate him. 'I trust you withdraw your
objections to my suit now, sir?' he says to me,
in iiis haughty way. I am John Hatton's heir,
after all.' A trifle hot headed is Harry, but a
good fellow in the mainoh! a very good fel
low! I have no doubt, Katie, he will make an
"He means to keep this fortune, then?" his
daughter says, arid says it in so odd a voice
that her father looks at her puzzled.
"Keep it! What do you mean? What
should he do but keep it? By George! I should
think he did mean to keep it! A cool hundred
thousand if a shiliing! May I ask what you
mean by the question
"Not now, papa, please. I will see Harry,
first," hhe answered, in the same strange
voicea very quiet voice, though it startles
"Look t.ere, my girl,'' he says stearnly, "j
know you of oldknow your highflown,
Quixotic tions about things in general, and
noints of honor and conscience in particular.
I warn you don't let us have any of them here,
if you want to be Harry Hatton's wife. The
lad has come fairly by his fortune let him
keep in peace."
They are at the house with the iast words
words harshly and menacingly spoken. They
go together into tho drawing-room, and there
as Mr. Englehart has predicted, they find
young Hatton alone. A tall and proper fel
low, this Harry Hatton, with a handsome
face aud eager, happy eyes.
"At last," he cries, coming forward, both
hands outstretched, "ju^t as patience was ceas
ing to be a virtue. Thank you for bringing
her Mr. Englehart. Come t) the fireside,
Katie, and warm those cold little paws. Has
our stately papa been telling you the good
He draws her forward,eyessmile, all alight
with love and joy. Last night he was in de
spair last night this cozy room had been for
biden ground. Sorrow and weeping had en
dured lor the night, but joy had come with
the morning. This time yesterday he had
been a beggar and Katie had been refused him
to-night he was a rich man and, Katie might
be his for the askiDg.
And papa Englehart, after a genial, father
in-law sort of nod, had slipped awayleaving
"Why don't you speak little girl?" cries ju
bilant Harry. "Or has the power of speech
heeD frozen within you? Wish me a merry
Chistmas, Katie, and congratulate me on my
capital fortune. on
She looks up at him with eyes full of wist-
"I wish you a merry Christmas with all my
heart, Hany but congratulate you on what?"
"Why, hasn't the dear old dad been telling
you? Then wonders never will cease. Oh,
pshaw! Of course he has told you that my
uncle is dead?"
"Poor old Mr. Hatton! yes, I know he is
"And all is mine, Katie, all. And next
April the old house shall have anew misl ress
and Harry Hatton shall have a wife. Why
don't you speak? Why don't you smile?
What is the matter with you to-night?"
"Harry, you mean to keep this inher
"Keep it?" Harry looks at her in wonder.
"By Jove! what a question. What should I
do with it but keep it?"
"Resign it to Rose HattonMrs. Andrews
nowto whom it rightfully belongs."
"A most likely idea, and quite worthy of
Katie Englehart. I have had poverty and hard
work for seven and twenty years, and now,
when the golden shower falls in my arms, I
am to resign it to Rose Andrews and her
drunken brute of a husband! No, no, Katie
in the nineteenth century, men keep all they
gct, and ask for more."
"So I perceive," she says quietly, though
she is trembling as she stands. She draws a
ring off her finger and lays it en the table be
fore him. "Our engagement ends to-night,
then, Mr. Hatton. Here is your ring."
He stands gazing at her,utterly bewildered.
"Katie," he *xclaims,"you don't mean this.'
"I mean it, Harry. If papa had left me, I
would have been your wife in your poverty
oh! so gladlyand worked for you, and w'ith
you, with all ray. heart: but nownow that
you take the portion of that woman worse
than widowed, of those children worse than
fatherless, I wonld die first."
The gentle eyes Hashed, into the pale cheeks
an indignant glow leaped, and the soft, tender
voice rang out as he had never heard it before.
"But this is all nonsense, Katie," he cried
impatiently, "sheer nonsense! Ask your fath
er"a smile crossed Katie's lips"ask any
body if the money is not fairly mine. Rose
Hatton, a headstrong, obstinate school-girl,
elopes, with a scoundrel, who only seeks her
father's money, and she is disinherited, as she
deserved. I am his sister's son, and to me
what sue resigned has fallen."
"ner father forgave her before he died, and
would have made another will if another day
had been given him."
"Look here, Katie," says Hatton still impa
tiently, "I will seek out my cousin Rosie, aud
if she leaves her wretch of a husband, I'll
provide for her and the little ones. Will that
"I know Rose Hatton," Katie answers.
"She was proud and obstinate, and would die
of starvation sooner than accept as charity
what is her's by right."
He comes close and stands before her, his
eyes flashing angrily.
"I must either choose between resigning
you or my uncle's fortune?
"If I resign it, I am a pauper as before, and
your father will order me from his doors.
You will not disobey your father, so in either
case I am to lose you."
"I love you Harry," she says with a .s
"I would wait
"Think you," he says, with a short laugh
"that is poor consolation. You are a woman,
and waiting may be easy to you. I am a man
and aon't choose to wait. Since I mnst lose
you in any case, I'll not lose my money as well.
Gjod night, Miss Englehart. I wish you a
very merry Christmas."
But he has gone, gone in a fine fury, bang
ing the street door after him and it is her
father, white with passion, who stands before,
Twice the Christmas tide has come and
gone twice the joyful anthem of "Peace on
earth, to men good will," has sounded down
the stately ailses of St. Philip's, and the third
time is here. Once more it is Christmas Eve
once more altar and pulpit are wreathed with
evergreens once more the voices of the
choristers rise to the vaulted roof once more
the slender, brown-eyed organists sits at her
post, her fingers evoking wonderous music
from those pearl-white keys. But the face
has a graver beauty, the dark eyes a sadder
light than of old, and for the silks and sables
of other days her dress is deepest mourning,
plain of make and poor of texture.
The last piece is sungsomething grand
and old and triumphant, and "Good night,
Miss Knglehart," one and all crv, as they flut
ter away and down the stairs. I She smiles her
fareweli, but lingers aftets they have gone, as
is her custom and as her hands float over the
keys and her eyes rest on the music, she is
thinking of another Christmas Eve, three
years ago, and of her father aud lover who
stood by her side that night.
She has lost them boththe lover then,
never to hear of or see since, the father one
year ago. A sreat financial crisis had come,
had involved shrewd lawyer Englehart, and
swamped him. He had broken down under
the blow, and in less than three months after
was dead and buried. He had never forgiven
Katie her refusal of Harry Hatton he did not
even forgive her on his deathbed.
"Hyou had not been a fool with vouracruples
and whims," he had said to her btterly, "you
need not have been a beggar to-day. Harry
Hatton is married long ago, no doubt, to some
wiser woman, and when I am gone you may
earn your living as best vou mav."
Thev buried him, and Katherine had earned
her living braveiy and well. For years she
had played the organ of St. Philip's as a labor
of love. Now it became a labor of necess
ity. Her salary as organist, and a half dozen
piano pupils, gave her all she needed, and life
went on somehow, and Christmas had come
Sh dreaded Christmasthe old pain and
struggle seemed to come all back: afresh. She
did not regret what she had done. Better
loneliness and poverty then ill-gotten gain
better lose her lover forever than become the
wife of a man capable of wronging the living
and the dead. Sue had lost him, but she had
not ceased to love him. While she deplored
his sins, her pure prayers followed him in his
reckless wanderings over the world.
She left the organ at last, and slowly quit
ted the church. Unlike that other Christmas,
no moon or stars shone. White, soft, cease
less the snow fell. She put up her umbrella
and hurried homethe home of a neighbor
ing-housetook her belated and solitary
supper, and ran up to her own little sittino-
room. A fire burned in the grate, and her
pianosolo relic of former splendorstood
open with some new music upon it. Before
sitting down to her long practice, she want to
the window and looked out. All the world
was white and still and ghostly, and faster
and faster the snow was falling. As she -stood,
the tall, dark figure of a man opened the
gate, and came plowing through, the snow to
"One of the boarders," she thought, "belated
as I was. How cross Mrs. White will be."
She left the window and went to the piano.
Before she commenced her practice, and half
unconsciously, f-he began softlv to sing her
favorite old anthem.
Then she stopped, conscious that the door
and opened, and the intruder did not advance.
"Come in," she said, "and shut the door,
please there is a drau
She stopped with a low cry, but he took her
at her word, shut'the door, and came forward.
"I have come back, Katie," he said. "Will
you forgive me and shake hands?"
He took both hers without waiting for leave,
and held them fast.
"I only reached England yesterday," he
went on. "All the.^e years I have been
abroad, trying to forget you and be happy,
aud I have neither forgotten you, nor been
happy. You were right, and I was wrong. I
have come back to tell you so, and to ask
you if you have forgotten meV
"Forgotten you!" she repeats almost with
a sob. "0 my Harry! My Harry!"
"I am no longer rich," he says. "Rosie
and the little ones are at the old homestead,
and the drunken husband has drunk him
self to death. I tried to palter with my dutv,
Katie, before I went away I sought out
Rose and offered her a portion of her father's
fortune. She was proud, as you told me she
would be, and refueed it with scorn- *I am
poor,'she said, 'almost starving but I will
not take as a favor from you, Harry Hatton,
that which is my right." Keep all or give
all!' I kept all, Katie, and if I could have
forgotten you, might have kept all in the
end. Bat I love you so well, my Katie, that
I ask nothing but you for the rest of my life.
We will be poor, but we will be together
Say you forgive me, Katie you have not said
She said it then, holding him close, her
happy tears damping his already damp coat
"You and I are to spend Christmas Day
with Rose," he says presently, that first trans
port over. "She's a jolly little soul as ever
lived in spite of all her troubles, and, right
glad to have done with matrimoney forever.
Who knows but that after' eight years of it
you may not echo her Bcntiment!"
"I think 1 will risk it, though," says Miss
Englehart, looking at him, handsome, big and
brown, with adoring eyes. "O Harry I to
think I did not know you striding through
the snow up to the gate! I was jastthinking,
with ever so little of a pang, that no gift
would be mine this year, while all the time
the best and dearest of Christmas boxes was
coming to me over the snow."
"Christmas has brought you your lover
and New Year shall bring you your husband,'
And New Year did.
Wishing- and Having.
If to wish and to have were one, my dear,
You would be sitting now
With not a care in your tender heart,
Not a wrinkle upon your brow,
The clock of time would go back with you
All the years you have been my wife,
Till its golden hands had pointed out
The happiest hours of your life:
I would stop them at that immortal hour
The vJock should no longer run
You could not be sad and sick and old
if to wish and to have were one.
You are not here in the winter, my love,
The snow is not whirling down
You are in the heart of the summer woods,
In your dear old sea-side town:
A patter of little feet ill the leaves,
A beaut ful boy at your side
He is gathering flowers in the shady nooks
It was but a dream that he died!
Keep hold of his hand and sing to him:
No mother under the sun
Has such a seraphic child as yours
If to wish and to have were one.
Methinke I am with there, dear wife
In that old house by the sea
I have flown to you as the bluebirds flies
To bis mate in the poplar tree
A sailor's hammock hangs at the door,
You swing in it, book in hand
A boat is standing! in for the beach,
Its keel grates on the sand:
Your brothers are comingtwo manly men,
Whose lives haye only begun:
Their days will belong in the land, dear heart,
If to wish and to have were one.
If to wish and to have wTere
one, ah, me!
I would not be old and poor,
But a young and prosperous gentleman,
With never a dun at the door:
There would be no past to bewail, my love,
There would be no future to dread:
Your broth rs should be live men again,
And your brothers would not be dead.
Perhaps it will all come right at last
It may be, when all is done,
We shall be together in some good world,
Where to wish and to have are one.
SEVENTY-FIVE MILES AN HOUR.
AN ENGINKKR'S STORY.
I had spent the night in a stage, a day
in the saddle, a night in the sleeping car,
half a day doing business, half a day in
bed, and was, after supper, enjoying a
cigar and a newspaper, in the reading
room of the Redwood house, Fayette, Ind.
The newspaper was uninteresting, or else
I was rather sleepyand I guess it was
a little of bothso that I soon neglected
it, to watch the fantastic curling of the
smoke from my fine flavored cigar. I
didn't feel much like talking, and felt
still less like reading but I did feel as
if I would like exceedingly well to. hear
a good story.
I had barely come to this conclusion,
and commenced wishing for some one of
my acquaintances to amuse me till the
time was up for the train which was to
take me to Indianapolis, when I recog
nized, in the person who sat next to. me, a
fellow-traveler in the sleeping-car of the
He, too, had laid aside his paper, and
was apparently, like me, watching the
smoke of his cigar, and wishing for ab
sent friends to keep him company.
He was a very agreeable-looking little
man, with a clear, gray eye, light hair,
sandy whiskers and smiling mouth. In
deed, he had so much the appearance of
the man that 1 would like to hear
tell a story that I thought Dame Fortune
had smiled upon me, when he recognized
mo with a genial: "How d'ye do, strang-
I returned his salutation, and asked
him some common-place questions about
how he had ei.joyed the ride we had to
He said something in reply about the
running being too last for the poor track
and from this the conversation ran upon
fast traveling in general for some time
At last I remarked, that sixty miles an
hour was the most speedy traveling that
I had ever done, "^hereupon my friend
informed me, with a pleasant but know
ing smile, that he had traveled consider
ably faster than that, and, in fact, faster
than he hai ever heard of, besides. Of
course I was anxious to know where, how,
and when he had done it and, after the.
modest assurance that he feared his tale
would not be interesting, my friend re
lieved my anxiety by relating the follow
"I am a railroad engineer. Awcy along
in fifty-seven, during the great panic, I
was running on the F. & C. R. R. The
railroad companies were going under, in
all directions. Every day we heard of
new failures: and quite often in a quarter
where we least expected it. Our road
was generally looked upon as one of the
most substantial in the nation nobody
seemed to have any fears that it would
fail to survive the general mash-up. But
yet I did not fully share in the general
confidence. Wages were cut down ar
rearages collected and a great many
other little matters .seemed to indicate to
me that the road hid got in rather deep
er water than was agreeable all around.
Among other things, the master mechanic
had told me in the spring that the com
pany had ordered four first quaiitv
Taunton engines for the fall passenger
business. The road was put in the very
best condition, and other preparations
were made, to cut down the
time and put trains through quicker than
was ever known before, when the new
engines should come. Well, there was
but one of the engines came.
I said there was but one engine came
but she was, in my opinion, altogether
the best ever turned out of the Taunton
works and that is saving as much as
can be said in praise of any engine She
was put in my charge immediately, with
the understanding that she was mine.
It was Saturday when she came out
of the shop, and I was to take a special
train up to The train was to
carry up the president and several of the
other officers of the road, to meet some
officers of another road, which crossed
ours there, and arrange some important
business with them.
"I had no trouble at all in making my
forty miles an hour going out. The en
gine handled herself most beautifully
We were just holding up at when
Aldricb, the treasurer, who had come
out on the platform to put the break on,
slipped and fell. As we were yet under
good headway, he was much injured,
and wa* carried off to the hotel insen
sible. Vccording to the president's instruct-
ions, I switched off my train, turned my
engine, and stood ready to start back to
0 at any moment's notice.
"Aldrich's presence was of so much im
portance that the business could not be
transactod without him so all those I
had brought out except the president
and Aidrich, went back to on the
three o'clock express train. Thib was the
last regular train which was to pass over
the road until the next Monday.
"Early in the evening I leit the ma
chine in charge of my fireman and went
over to an eating house to see if I could
not spend the time more pleasantly than
on my engine. The hours dragged them
selves away slowly. I was playing a
game of dominoes with the station agent
when in come'Roberts, the president, in
a state of greatdexcitement..
1 'Harry,' sai he to me 'I want you
to put me down in at twelve
"As it was nearly eleven o'clock then,
and the distance was then seventy-five
miles, I thought he was joking at first
but when we got outside the door he
caught me by the arm and hurried me
along so fast that I saw he was in earnest.
'Harry,' said he, 'if you don't set me
down in by twelve o'clock, am a
ruined man, and this road is a ruined
road. Aldrich is dead, but he tola me,
before he died, that he had embezzled,
from time to time, five hundred thousand
of our money and his clerk is to start
with it on the twelve o'clock boat from
for Canada. If we don't have that
money on Monday morning, to make
some payments with, the road goes into
other hands and if you put me down in
at the light time.so that I save the
money, you shall have five thousand dol
lars. Understand it, Harry? Five thous
and dollars I'
"Of course, I understood it. I saw now
the reason why the wages had been cut
down 1 understood it all, and my blood
boiled. I felt that 1 would save the
road if I lived, and told Roberts so.
'See that you doit, Harry !"he replied
as he climed up on to the"steps of the
coach which was coupled to my engine.
"I sprang up into the foot board,-
the switch-tender to help my fireman,
opened the throttle, and just as she com
menced moving, looked at my watchit
had just struck eleven o'clock, so that I
had the hour to make my seventv-five
"From to there were few
curves on the road but there were several
heavy grades. I was perfectly acquaint
ed with every rod of it so that I Knew
exactly what I had to encounter and
when I saw how the engine moved, I felt
very little fear of the result.
"The road for the first five miles,was an
air-line, and so we flew along with scarce
ly a peiceplible jar. I was so busy,
posting myself up, as to the amount of
wood and water aboard, etc., that we
danced by the first station almost before
I was aware of it, having been five min
utes out, and having five miles accom
'You are losing time!' yelled a voice
from the coach. I looked around, and
there stood Roberts with his watch in his
"I knew very well we would have to
increase our speed by some means, if we
carried out our plans of reaching 0
by midnight,and looked anxiously around
to see what I could do to accomplish that
purpose. She was blowing off steam
fiercely at one hundred and"ten pounds
so I turned down the valve to two hun
dred, for I knew we should need it all to
make some of the heavy grades which
lay between us and
"It was three miles to the next station.
With the exception of a few curves the
track was as'^ good as the last. As we
darted around what commenly seemed
to be a rather long curve, at the station,
but which was, at our high speed, short
enough, I looked at my watch and we
had done it in two minutes and a half.
'Gaining,' I shouted back to Roberts,
who was yet standing on the platform of
the coach. 'Look out for the heavy grades,' he
replied, and went inside the car,
'The next six miies rose gradually
from a level the first, to ten and a half
feet grade the last, which lay between us
and the next station. My fireman kept
ner full and now she began to get hot.
The furnace door was red, and the steam
raised continually, so that she kept her
speed, and passed the station, like a
streak of light, in five minutes.
"Now came nine miles like the last,
over which she kept pace with her time,
and passed the station in seven and a half
"Here, for ten miles, we had a twenty
foot grade to encounter but the worst of
it all was, at that place we would be
obliged to st^p for wood. I was just go
ing to speak to Roberts about it, when I
looked around, and saw him filling the
tender from the coach with wood, which
had been placed there before starting,
while he was gone after me.
"I believe we would have made this ten
miles at the same speed as before, but,
through the carelessness of the firemaD,
the fountain-valve, on the left hand side
of the engine, got open and the water rose
in the boiler so fast as to run the steam
down to one hundred pounds before I
discovered where the difficulty lay.
At fir-it, Roberts didn't appear to notice
the decrease of speed, and kept at work
at the wood as if for dear life. But pres
ently he looked up, and seeing that the
speed had decreased, he shouted: "Harry,
we are stopping!'and then, coming over
to where 1 was, he said: "Why, here we
heve been ten minutes on the last ten
miles, and I believe we will come to a
dead stand if something is not done. The
speed is continually slacking! What is
"1 explained the ciuse. He was ap
parently satisified with my explanation,
and after having tied down the safety
valve he climbed back' over the tender,
exhorting me to 'put her through, for
God's sake, or we* are all beggars to
"Just then we passed the next station,
having taken nine minutes for eight miles.
We were now more than half over the
road but we had lost nearly ten minutes'
time, and had left only twenty-seven
minutes to do thirty-four miles in.
"I had shut the water off from both my
pumps, a little distance back, when I dis
covered what was the matter, and she
was now making steam finely down a
slight grade, from less than one hund
red, with which we started over that ten
mile stretch, she had two hunderd pounds
before we finished it and, as the gauge
indicated no higher than that and the
valve was tied down, I could not tell
how much over two hundred pounds she
carried, but she certainly carried none
less the rest of the journey. And well
might she carry such an enormous head
of steam for, after passing over that ten
miles in eight minutes, there lay ten
miles of five-feet up-grade, and fourteen
miles of twenty-feet-to-the-mile depres
sion between us and and it is now
eleven o'clock and torty-seven minutes.
'Now the engine was hot in earnest.
The furnace door, smoke-arch and chim
ney, all were red while she seemed to fly
on as if the very evil one himself operat
ed her machinery.
"Six minutes carried us over that ten
miles and we darted by the last station
that had lain between ug and
Now we had fourteen rnles to go and
my time showed eleven o'clock and fifty
'"If Hive,' said I to myself, 'I will
make it,' and we plunged" down that
twenty-foot grade with all the steam on.
Persons who saw the train on that wild
run, said that it was so soon after they
heard the first sound of her approach
when the strange object, which looked
as if it were a flame of fire, darted bv,
and then the sound of its traveling died
away in the distance, that they could
hardly convince themselves they had
realy seen anything. It seemed more
like the creature of a wild dream than a
"And now let me tell you, that no en
gine ever beat the time we made on those
fourteen miles. Those great wheels, seven
feet in diameter, epuiT around so swift
that you couldn't begin to count the
revolutions. The engine barely seemed
to touch the track as she flew along aud
although the track was as true as it was
possible for it to be, she swayed: fearfully,
and sometimes made such prodigious
jolts that it required considerable skill
for one to keep his feet. No engine could
hold together if crowded to a greater
"Well, just as I came to a standstill in
the depot at the big clock boomed
out twelve, and the steamboat was getting
her steam on. Roberts got on board in
time aad nothing to spare."
"And he saved the money, did he?" I
asked, when I saw that my friesid had
finished his story.
"Yes he found it hid away in some
old boxes, as Aldrich had directed him."
"If you are the passenger for
said a waiter, "the 'bus is ready."
So I thanked my friend for his story
and bade him "good-by."
A Bottomless Bog.
Some few evenings ago a St. Louis
Post reporter made the acquaintance, at
the Lindell hotel, of James Lafton, who
related to him a curious incident. He
says that a few days since, having occa
sion to make a visit to. Cairo upon busi
ness he mounted a good, strong horse, and
started upon a journey through the bottom
lands of Illinois. Nothing of consequence
happened until within about forty-two
miles of Cairo there, in a swamp over
grown with jungles of blackberries and
shrubbery common to such spots, he
espied a flock of birds, a few of which he
determined to carry into Cairo as speci
mens ot his skill in shooting. The birds,
however, were shy, and, the anxious
sportsman persevering in the ardor of tho
pursuit, he penetrated further into the
swamp. Presently he came upon a spot
very much mo.e open than the rest, no
shrubbery of any size grew upon it but
a kind of a coarse grass, interspersed with
clumps of bulrushes, covered the entire
surface. No sooner had the horse's feet
touched the sod than he sank immediate
ly above his ietlocks. Floundering out of
what the rider supposed to be only a mud
hole, the animal leaped forward with con
siderable force, and this time sank almost
to his knees. His rider touched the beast
with the whip to hurry him out of the
bad place. The horse raised himself by
main force from the.mire and leaped for
ward as^ain, apparently as anxious as his
rider to get out of the bog. This
time, however, he sank almost to his
girth, and the most po erful efforts on
his part could not result in extracting his
feet from the mud. The more he strug
gled the further he sank, and in a few
minutes ceased altogether to make any
effort to release himself, but remained
perfectly quiet, trembling in every joint.
Mr. Laffon now began to feel censidera
bie alarm he was obliged to extend his
both legs out paraelel with the body of
the horse to keep them from sinking in
the bog. His mind instantly reverted to
all the tales of quagmires and quicksands
that he had ever read, and he began to
suspect he had struck something of the
kindjhimself. The situation was looking
gloomy he must do something so he
spoke to his horse.again, to induce him
to make one more effort, but the poor
beast was beyond the power of helping
himself. Already apart ot his body was
in the black, jelly-like mass of mud,
which everywhere surrounded him. And
Mr. Laffon discovered, to his howor, that
he was slowly, but surely, getting nearer
in a levei with the ground.
He felt certain now that unless help
came he must surely disappear with
his horse in this lonely bog and his fate
forever remain a mystery." Determined
not to give way to "despair, he glanced
once more anxiously around, and this
time noticed no more than two or three
yards distant the branches of a tolerably
large tree, which, with roots still partially
in the firm ground beyond, had fallen
across the bog. Its wide-spreading boughs
had prevented its sinking into the mire,
and he now felt that to reach that tree was
the only hope ot salvation. He could not
reach it from the position, and he dared
not leap lest the added impetus should
only send him deeper into the bog, with
out enabling him to get hold of the
branches. An idea seized him. He
took the bridle frcm the horse aud a
hitching Btrap which he carried with him,
bound them tightly togethar with some
twine he found in his pocket, and form
ing a sort of noose, threw his impromptu
lasso toward a stout dead branch which
projected from the fallen tree. His firs
trial failed, also the second and third
but the fourth succeded, and he had only
to make the attempt to draw himself to
the tree. He was now standing
upon the back of his doomed
horse, which had sunk several inches
further, and with raised head was looking
with terror-stricken eyes back toward 'lis
master, every once in awhile uttering
pitiful cries. With a last few tender
pats Mr. Laffron said farewell to his
horse, and leaped from his back as far
as possible. He sank several feet, but
keeping firm hold of the line, he began
to draw himself out hand over hand, and
after hard stuggling finally succeded in
reaching the tree, into which he quickly
drew himself, and carefully crept across
its trunk to terra firma, thankful for his
miraculous escape from a horrible death.
His first thought now was to go for help
and try to rescue his horse. For this
purpose he started off on foot for the
nearest cabin. After walking several
miles he encountered a couple of farmers,
and quickly procurieg other aid, and
providing themselves with ropes, they
accompaied Mr. Laffon back to the bog.
Several hours had elapsed before he
reached the treacherous spot again, and
not a sign of his unfortunate horse re
mained. The poor beast disappeared in
the black ooze, and only the lack of
scant verdure oa that particular spot
marked the place where he had met a
A God After All.
We laid in a cell, Mister Jud?e all night long.
Jimmie and me, waitin' and wishin* for the
morning to dawn,
Cause we couldn't sleep,Mister Judge, in that
cold damp place,
And Jimmie was mos'. scared to death at the
wild mad race
That the rats kept runnin' all through the
That's why we were glad, Mister Judge, to
see the daylight.
Please, Mister Judge, we are not very bad lit
And the policeman what took as said we're
some mother's joys
lie was wrong, Mister Judge, and should onlj
That we are two little outcasts.'and our nh
And there's no one to care for us, at least here
And no roof that shelters us from the rain and
A preacher once told us that way up in the
There was a God that was watchin' all that
little boys do
And that he loved little children, and His love
it was free
But I guess, Mister Judge, He don't love
Jimmie or me,
For I prayed and I prayed till I was most out
For somethin' to eat, and to keep Jimmie
And that's why we're here, Mister Judge
for you know
There was no help from above, 1 must find it
'Twas no use in begjrin' and be told in God I
I must trust,
For I'd beeged all the day and get never a
And the was poor Jimmie, hoidin' his noor
And crjin', and moanin'. forsomethiu' to eat.
So I went to a house that was not very far,
And saw, Mister Judge, that the back door
And a table was sittin' right close by the door,
Just loaded with pies, about twenty or more"
So I quick slipped in and grabbed one to my
The policeman then caught usand you know
Discharged, did you say, Mister Judge* both
Jimmie and I?
Andandweain'tgottobojailei'caus- I teok
And we can cat all we want?how funny
Say, Jimmie, pinch me, for II think it's a
Aud you'll give us work, summer, winter and
Say, Jimmie, I think thsre's a God after all
A Gold Story.
This is from the Burlington Hawkeye:
This is the time of the year to travel and
talk with a cold. My cold is very ob
stinate, out I am holding it is check, I
think, or rather my friends are holding it
in check for me. I paid but little atten
tion to it at first, but as the cough in
creased in severity and the hoarseaW be
came worse, Mrs. Clemraents gave me
bryonia and phosphorus the day follow
ing I went to Middletown, and good Mrs.
Brown gave me boneset syrup:'th^n. on
advice of a traveling friend, I took to
horehouud and licorice, but on machine
Erie Mr. Thornton changed my treatment
ger3-.prcsc^bed ed physician, who gave me a bottle of
pills and a box of tablets and a receipt
for two dollars. That evening old Mrs.
Bryan sent me a bo'tie of carbolic acid
and Mr. Gregory sent me a carbolic rube.
I inhaled the bottle and swallowed the
tube, and experienced great relief. I then
resolved to refuse any further treatmemt
but Mrs. Dawson persuaded me with a
very ha:m!ess and rather leasm pre
paration of glycerine and sunar, and at
night I still further submitted to a cold
water compress. The next dav a woman
gave me a dose of medicine in a stree!,
and 1 muncued troches ail the rest of the
day, and declared I would try no more
prescriptions. That very night I was
tucked into bed by friendly hands and
filled to my chin with hot lemonade. To
day I am wearing a liver pad around my
neck. To-morrowubt alas! who can
tell what to-morrow will bring forth!
chloride of potash iozen
er3 I next sent for a regularly ordain-
A Sparrow Fight.
Coins up Tennessee street yesterday
afternoon a News reporter witnessed a
fight between two English sparrow cocks,
that would hare been to the death had
he not appeared upon the scene. As in
most encounters, there WHS a woman in
it, that is, a hensparrow, who stood out
side at a short distance waiting the result
of the com oat, ready to fly away with the
successful bird. They paid no nttention
to the||r. r. until he was just about to
step over them, when they separated and
flew away, the hen accompanying the
one that was on top. He evidently had
his rival foul, and was pecking his head
with much vigor. The punishmont must
have been severe, for the one underneath
sent forth the most piteous cries, and
was apparently unable to help himself.
When released, however, he snowed that
he was still game by pursuing the pair
as far find as fast as his remaining
strength would permit. He soon gave
up the chase, however, and lit upon the
limb of a neighboring tree, where the
reporter left him, panting for breath, and
smoothing oat hie ruffled feathers.