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*** ~n^nur.iT VBITASXIX.
■ tKASXKISC- MAY IS. l*»-» i.l the bard, who wrote with , h* TK»t ?r" ud fJvcr -Naught shall ike us rue, propb<tu- 'C- ;^ lf - do nst m true"'* yEng^r-c l . h ' Ihal cries to v* aloud; peril* cr0 * V ;^r- daunt, no braggart I ••• .111.1 do I/tr.:* WJ- " w) ..., ( . i>me woe< endure and do ' Bat *?tt£ to death or victory vo<dr » mre r.<>: responds to the call? 4ci «a*<" i ..mcd 'he lien's heart was dead. A»* on ZZ., up the toils around him shred. &t«^£ no — ■ -".d appall- Af ul-.u 1 -.- love us not to dread. *JJgtsore Martin, in Klaekwood's Magazine. -7^ inff john." Act V. *-en*vii. \ SPIRITS. A SMUGGLING STORY. Ufd h*th delivered yew into my hands:" j -TvJtwJ at the speaker. Lieutenant Curwen. : rr ' ;d tJ ivy- - •-!•• seated on the keg in triumph; rf Srtrf ■ttb* landlord of the Green Dragon, a : v ZUr rk<> himself; at the two Revenue men . s?Sard«J tlw door, and he thought dolefully ; * s ° 5S w* some truth in the nontenant's re *V! r.i"M Dick had >«+n out in the Betsy , ° ST \rd th"'--h. of <-urHe. being a mere visitor ; Js ",fci«"'i't '•■- seaside inn. he had only gone for ■ of :ii- sail and H ie excitement, it was _**riblf t0 deny that wh.-n the lugger Serf anchor in h '"- b * ACk r^ l Borne time bt "- ' r-r*dswn Bitten kegs had been landed, and he \ '► i hW^J land them. For all Dick cared— or • ~*r- they might have contained water. Four- j r vest Into the country in the charge of silent ; 2 who .-••! to know their road even by ; " ha if light One. notwithstanding the rv- ■ of the Betsy Jane's skipi^r. who de- j -■ared it a dangerous proceeding, had been j -•iced on a barrow and wheeled up to the Green j • '. ■ ■ 'i.v Dick and Mr. Prenderg.ist. landlord , %' : j, ? tune. Pn ndergast was positive that the i Zmrm hu*2 m Inkling of the landing; Dick was ' "^-'-pnt t ' regard the cask as a cask — which , Z^tt contain water. The consequence was ■ Slbo - - •:•■ iad ln<l - v snstaled thy keg in this •tic than a rap at the door <am-. followed by ; Tk. entry of Lieutenant Curwen and a d«z»'ii ; ECTtnBC raen Dick and the landlord were at •rrieste'd That was th»^ miserable fact. ■ Xge, Prv!!<i- : - ; - r before he lap?«d into sulky ; ojence had • ut eyed to Dk-k that the other rmteen tecs aftei which the lieutenant had iJ>: ten of h ■ men, were pafe from pursuit mgt tbrrc- was iiJiie consolation in that. Thi aa remaintM] Tlat hrve was tl>> in<-rintinating jog ar.'i tin lieutenant seated uj;on it in fanati- ; a; triuTr.ph. -The Lord bath delivered yew into my hands," ha rep^tt-d. Ttink ?<■>"" said Dick, dubiously. Tew of :::.- men ?aw yew landing kegs from . ±* 2us?^r: th«*y saw yew wheei this one in a; urnv*' up i" th" inn" — — -It's imeommonly hard work wh.-c:ing a bar- ! ;otc" said IM< k. •"T^i'ii not issist yew to makt- a mockery of yCT crini-." True, my ii r-arr -ar sir. quite tru*\" said Dirk, ;^p::nc a i rity he did not reel. "Hut you see | zj contention is that — so far as I'm aware — ! tfcere i? no ;'; ' randy in that keg." The lieutenam did uot deism to repiy. but irEsin--' 1 . I: - !•■• :s nn the cask, which gave j jtek. a gurgli&s. liquorish sound. ■?■■:- wati r perhaps," Dick pleas- ! Bfly. A.]mock was heard at the door, and the lieu- | t?^aat ?aiT. "Coom" in," pompously. Entered j Bsl PreadersaVt. with a tear «iain-.i face. "Ti? ■ letter/ .-"he said diffidently, "for Mr. ! £a£sistor:.' -Ha;. th< captive of your spear receive com- ; ~naicati>':tr-?" Dick asked, affably. "From Rhom does the letter come?" demanded ; &c Deotenant. "From Miss Judy, sur," said Sal. and his j bras contra' ted angrily. "She was passen and seed vac -••> • ::" Ttoa siialt not mourn for th*- wicked.** said &c Heotenant. "Not ef ma father's taken by the gangers an' charged o' rnnnen kags?" Sal flashed out. "Hiss Judy d'\v not think so, and when I tailed her. fti? sail it was a sheame" — "Peace, girl." paid the lieutenant. "Wh*t more did she say?" Dick asked eagerly. "Nethen cf importance," said Sal. The lieutenant had taken possession of the rate and was examining the superscription. If be had opened it. as he seemed half inclined to i:. Dfck*a ■■ Time would have extended to assault i?,i battery. Put he handed it. over, saying "It's going beyond my dewties — but if 1 know :~zi?t. .:'\i \>f the last you get." "Tou certainly go beyond your duties," said Dick, opening it tenderly. Evidently Miss Judy Hi be-^n h.-urustful of the duteous lieutenant, Sr the note was writu-n in French. Translated "Kcc-p the lieutenant in conversation for twenty minutes from now. Remember that — 'x as you know — there is no brandy in the air At the end of that tim« there will be aeoe.— J." "Dear gir!." said Dick to himself. "But what x earth the means I cannot make out. If she » a re to offer to converse with Curwen or drug S2i it would be a different matter." Sal, watching his face, asked if there ere any slower. "Is Miss Judy still here?" deed Dick, u-n irn?, so that the lieutenant looked suspiciously ?wr& ?a!. I3ut she behaved with admirable Easetkm. Tor -what Fhould Miss Judy be here!" she ssiJ, with an air of surprise. "I meant, ef the* *as an anr.v.-r, 1 could take" "Ah, if yon vrould be so good as to gt) after Jw." EaitJ Dick. "Thank, her for me and say QsrbUsly.' " Sil slid fmTTi the room, leaving Dick to raain- Sfa his parity. As she entered the room di »5J7 beneath she was greeted a little anxiously vifc the Question^ "Well, did you mark exactly It standsT' "Ifs, Miss Judy," paid SaL Vrst b»T» to the left." She pushed the table. r -*» th>* spot, and Miss Judy mounted there- ; po=- "Qukk. Sal, the men may be back any =cnei;t! Lock the front door, and then come m hold the can. I'll do this" — - "5* rooTr: v.-as th° bar parlor, with two doors ~ It— cue for the front and one for the back. ?ty the r<2Ft it was also usual enough, and thin jpariins only separated it from the r<K>m above. OMBst ths boarding, In silence, with the ut- NEW-YORK TRIBUNE ILLI STUATED BUPPLEMENTi I, llly (lr ,. Vl . :i! , imlot . Inusllur! <-'"l>d i- ?n ° f brand >- Allowed, and Sal re- Juclv Z* •', . snM>!l of brandy!- said Miss Judy. as ,t, t trlckled over hM . nn??tirs! Sal gl.^ulK^ 1 ""' 01 Mr " Shenston will mind,- said k-, 2 ! I '^'?, J ." d J heca very severe. "Remember. * .!; u;U T . his ls a most disgraceful affair." wrong.-^" j,, »Hnk Mr ' Shenston mant to do W -,.,'YV 1 1 1 Bhoald n '» have supposed your father yw.uM have been guilty of it. If he Is ever t«i-T;r.t again — "He wiiin't be such ■ full " Miss Judy concealed a smile. "Another pail!" *ne said. 'And empty that into the duekpond." sai Hastened off with h»r burden, and another Palljreceived tho brandy." • r'.JV a! 1 Oick." murmured Miss .Judy, apos trop ,ng hlz the boarding in a whisper, "it was most naughty of you." Moany.hi'.o Dick w.« showing his repentance v^rv.t'- i y ■ gaging !h. lieutenant in con «!?f U was rather a difficult thing to do and annoying exceedingly to see him sitting f ;r; r V 1T !. ' P <>ask ' Dick, consulting his watch. found that eighteen minutes had passed, and resUesl* an ' Uher efTort - for Curwen was getting ""iou see." he urged, "in any case there Is a nice point of law involved. If I am an ignorant acceasory there cannot" "Squire dew not see nice points of Jaw." re tort,,! ( urwen ■.'There's morals and there's ■ '""• there's sheen and there's goats" "And asses.*: 1 M.-k suggested. Tli. r e keeping straight and there's running contraband." "And my contention i.s." repeated Dick weari !n*that a k S °» far i* I know lnere fa no,' brandy The lieutenant's retort was interrupted by the tramp of his returning men. Th^y showed empty hand and said they had had no luck. But thr- lieutenant was too contented to be greatly put out by this. "Never mini." h*» said, "there's enough here Get the barrow ready, and we'll go up tO sriuire's." And he turned to the landlord rancorously. I rendergast. jew have made off with th»» rest o your sinful contraband, but yew cannot escape when yew have broken th" aw " "Stow ut!" said Prendsrgast. sulkily "Yew come here to ma house an' call me rascal Tew*ve gat no prewf. I ask yew where's yew're prewf?': VHere.v s^jid the lieutenant And again h« kicked his heels on the keg. It gave out a ho.low sound. He leapt off it as if he had been suddenly stung. A faint glimmer of the truth .iawnvd upon Dick. •lienienibrr." he said, provoking] v. "my con tention has been that there is no i-.rar.ly in the The lieutenant turned Et'over on its side with wut answering. It was empty, ami. thiiush th ■ Hour beneath was damp the holes had" I>-^t stopped up. 'Thn-e way brindy in it/ he said, rounding on iMck rrhe-soda water seems to have evaporated," said Dick, Innocently. S..rne of the revenue men beuan to srrgjjer: "Search- th" place:" said Curwen. gnashing his teeth. One of the men returned presently and announced a strong smell o£ brandy in the yard, particularly in the duekpond. "It would hardly do to show the p<]uirf water from the duekpond as contraband spirits " sad Dick. "There's sheen and there's goats." said the lieutenant, hardly able t<« contain his wrath, so that Dick came very near pitying him, and only murmured "and asses." this tinv^ under his breath. The lieutenant ordered his men off and followed them. Dick, without stopping to ex plain matters to try-> l»ewildered Prendergast, hastened down. "Sai," htr called, "where is Miss Judy?" "Wasn't it clever of her?" said Sal, admir ingly. "But I'm going to stop father runnen kegs. It's very bad. she says, and not safe." "But where is Miss Judy? " "Ob, she went down th' road." said SaL "I expect you might find her under the big aim." BARON. WinOH frame in this room holds the prettiest PICTURE?" THE i'KAUIi d? TUB MilUtOU BEFORE WHICH YOU SIT, MADAM." — <Me£Eendorfer BUUtaa THE DEATH OF A COWARD. From The Pall Mall Magazine. The boy leant wearily against »ie bulwark rails, watching the lights as they came up one by one on the coast. The plunging of the ship stiil made his head reel, and be was weak from want of food. He seemed altogether apart from the stir and life that three hundred emigrants on board created. His whole soul was ailed with a dumb and impotent protest against his fate, and the life before him. Old Captain Mal colm had shown little wisdom when he sent his only son to sea to have some pluck knocked into him. In the father's defence it may be said that he warn utterly unable to realize the timidity and sensitiveness of the boy. Ail his ancestors had been rough seamen who had faced storm and danger on every sea. and courage and nerve were hereditary qualities. And now the last of the Malcolms seemed more of a girl than any of his live slaters. All the exhortations to manliness, all the covert reproaches that came from his father, were so many darts that rankled and festered in his soul, but failed to compel his nature to be other than it was. The boy was made for pence, for the quiet and uneventful life that an office in his native town could have offered uncer his mother's watchful care. Instead, he \va.s here, an apprentice on the steamship I*i- i■ l ■ of Asia, a big cargo boat just off the slips on the Tyne. and carrying emigrants to the Cape. The ship's doctor came out of the saloon in the poop to go his evening round below. With him was his wife, a slight, girlish figure, wrapt in a heavy cloak. She turned at the ladder which led to the lower deck, and was about to go back, when her eyes fell on the boy. She bad noticed him once or twice before, and his white face Mid lonely air roused the womanly sym pathy in her. <!>•■ touched him lightly on the shoulder and slid. "You are leaving home, like me." The boy started. A slight color sprang to his cheeks, and tears to his eyes. He smiled faintly, showing a gap where two teoth had been knocked out by a smaller boy in the only fight he h:ni ever had at .school. , "Yes, ma'am." he replied. "Y.hi must feel lonely,"' she sad; "but you will ><%i!j be back, and then every i.rie will think so much of you." Her voice ha 1 something caressing and invit ing about it; and si his confidence, overcom inir his shyness and reserve, broke bounds. He told her everythlrg — how he would hate this life, how all filled him with fear :inJ di.-gust, the col ' and darkness, the chaff and horseplay of his fellow-apprentices, the indifference of every one around him. He told how impossible it was to come up to his father's standard, how he felt he wn<= :i born coward, and that he would al ways be one. shrinking instinctively from the danger and excitement that bolder natures took pl( a sine in. She listened sympathetically. Her hand had pattf'rt him once or twite, and encouraged him to go i i!. When he ended, she said: "You must not be too hard on yourself. It is not always those who fear the least that are bravest in the end. When the timo comes,' i am sure you will tio your duty " The Loy heard her listlessly. ]!•• had little heart to respond to any appeal to his manliness. Th» re seemed no time when he would not shrink from hardship or danger. He almost felt as if his confidence had been nrisplaced, and that she had understood nothing after all. She saw the change, and her interest in him somewhat waned. Courage to a woman is the primary quality in the other sex. and nothing will compensate for the lack of it. She bade him good night and turned a. way back to the poop. In a few minutes the second mate passed along the deck and told the boy to go below. Then all was quiet. A few hours later the ride of Asia was steaming at "slow," with her whistle going every few minutes. The Channel fog girt the ship like a shroud. The Captain walked the bridge uneasily. No tempest or rockbound shore gives the anxiety that a fog on this waterway of the nations does. Danger is imminent every where, and the most careful seamanship is no guarantee of safety. So it was now. A hoarse shout came from the man on the lookout. The Captain sprang to the graph, and as "Full speed astern" rang out a large sailing ship took form in the fog. and in a few seconds crashed into the steamer in front of the bridge. The Pride of Asia shook from stem to stern, heeled over to starboard, and then began to forge ahead, while the other Brent pounding along her side, wrenching the port boats from her davits and staving them In with her bow sprit. Then she passed away as a ghost in the fog. The Pride of Asia had met her death wound. At once all was noise and confusion. The .mi grants came pouring up on deck, screaming and shouting with terror. Some of the sailors rushed to clear the boats, but a sharp order from the Captain stopped them. In a few -seconds the Captain had decided on his course. The remaining boats would not carry a hundred and fifty people. There were more than twice that number on board. On the other hand, the land was about three miles off. and a sandy and protected beach meant safety. But could it he done with that hole in her side? Me would try. He changed her course, rang "Full speed ahead," and shouted to the mate, "Go down and shut the forward bulkheads. Mr. Jones." The mate ran forward, and with the help of the carpenter tore orf part of the hatch covering and sprang to the ladder. As he climbed down young Malcolm peered aim lessly over the hatch. "Bring down a lantern," cried the mate, and Malcolm, galvanized into activity by fear seized a lantern from the alleyways and clambered down Into the hold. The mate ran toward th. iron door in the bulkhead, which had been left open, and pushed it to. "The light here — Quick!" And the boy brought it. "Blast them!— blast them!" roared the mate. "They've put the bolts on the wrong side. In live minutes we'll all be in kingdom come." He stumbled for the ladder, and Malcolm fol lowed, wild with terror. Yes, every one would be drowned, and he, too, with the cruel, cold water sucking him down. He dropped the lan tern and began ro pull himself up the ladder. Suddenly he stopped. An idea had been born In his brain; a hideous, unthinkable thought— the door could be closed from the other side. He hung limply on the ladder, and in his mind raged a tornado of conflict Oh. to be out of this awful ship, safe once again at horn ! But the mate had said that all were lost. That meant him, too. And if only that door were shut, all could be saved. Great beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. He groaned and writhed about like one on the rack. Then he began to descend slowly. He stopped again on the last rung. He clung to the ladder a.- a drowning man to a rope. lie could never let go. Why as he not going up the ladder? There were boats left. He had seen that. He could fight for a place, and be saved. He was bo young; not old. like th. mate and captain. They must give him a place. All at once he loosened his hold and ran blindly for the door. On the way he tripped and fell heavily on his hands and face, cutting and bruising them. He lay half stunned for a minute, moaning from the pain, then raised him si If and crawled the rest of the way. He passed through the door, and with feverish haste shot the great iron bolts. The boy was alone in his ton He leaned against the bulkhead, sick, sick to death. Why had he done this? He did not know. They would be saved now, but he — O! God, no more light or life for him! His poor dry lips moved convulsively, and his hands beat aimlessly on the iron wall. He would go back. Hope returned with a rush. He would die in the open— with others around him. It would be good to die thus, not in this hell of darkness and deso lateness. He unshot one bolt and fumbled for the other. Then, with a low moan, he cast him self from it, driving his teeth into his lips in his agony. It was not to be. He was too great a coward to live. He could only die. He would pray. But he couid think of nothing — nothing but the "This night when I lie down to sleep" he had learned at his mother's knee. To sleep— oh, he would sleep long! There was to be no waking this time. How the water was creeping up! Long shuddering fits shook his frame as ha felt the icy fingers of death rising inch by inch. He screamed and raved, dashing his head against the iron, that death might come quickly. He plunged beneath the water, only to come up again, fighting madly for life. Then there was a long drawn sob, and then silence. The Captain stood on the bridge, a figure o* stony despair. The land could never be reached with water pouring like a torrent into the for ward hold He cursed his negligence in over looking such a frightful blunder. It was going to cost two hundred lives, and he must not be among the saved. The Pride of Asia was get ting low in the water, but he could not under stand why she was not sinking more by the bow. She was vibrating from the engines, pushed to their highest pressure, for the firemen stuck gallantly to their posts. Five minutes went, and ten, and then, with a sudden shock, she took ground, and all were safe. Next morning, young Malcolm was missing* and the sorrowful news was sent to his father. It was thought he had fallen overboard when the ship grounded, and he could not swim. A week afterward, the divers entered the forward hold, and found, to their astonishment. that the bulkhead door, which they had expected to find open, was closed. They forced It open, and against it was float ing the body of a boy. Old Captain Malcolm conies often to the lit tl* gTaveyard by the sea In it stands a cross, oa which are inscribed the words, "HERB LIKS A HERO." MDLTiyQ UP HIB CRITIC. From The London Chronicle. Some curious relics of former superstitions arv preserved under the Courthouse in Edinburgh. The little wax figures, stuck all over with pins, are the pieces de conviction in the charges of •witchcraft which were so frequent in the six teenth and seventeenth centuries. It was sup posed that if a wax image of an enemy were made, prodded with pins, and then melted in the fire, the original would suffer similar tort ures and dissolution. The belief Is at least as old as the days of Horace. Indeed, the superstition has survived to our own time. The late W. G. Wills, the dramatist, when staying at a Kentish seaside place was annoyed by a dramatic critic. Half in jest ha modelled his critic in wax and melted him up. A day or two later he heard of the death of his assailant. Mr. Wills, who was the kindliest and most careless of bohemians, could never rid himself of the suspicion that he was an unwill tnsr homWiU 5