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Ov A THE PiTTSBtTKGP DISPATOH."SXJHDAY,&r OCTOBER ' 27," '"1889. IS t i r "; t K - the direction of her withes. About a mile lrom his home lived a Norwegian farmer named Paul Gretna, who had a daughter named Ingerid. She was about Gunner's age, or perhaps a year younger, and had a ' reputation for beauty. She was a soft, dimpled little creature, with affectionate, blue eyes, a fresh infantine face and a rosy complexion. It was difficult to tell from . that face what manner of woman she might grow to be; but it was fair to infer that she would make a comfortable wife and a good mother. She was a blonde and attractive personification ol her sex; and that is, after all, what most men want their wives to be. A too distinct individuality is often an element of disturoance. Gunnar was. indeed, not the only one who had discovered Ingerid's attractiveness. His old friend and antagonist, Thorsten Sletten, with whom he had lought at the prayer meeting, was a frequent visitor at the Gretna farm, as were also half a dozen other lads, who made no attempt to dis pute their admiration for the daughter of the house. This was the condition or things at the time, when the farmer, Lars Kandkleven, invited his neighbors to celebrate his wed ding with Karen Holtsrud. It was a large wedding and both Gunnar and his mother and Ingerid and her parents received invita tions. The pastor married the couple in the church at noon, and about 40 vehicles -of all sorts accompanied them to the bridal house. All the picturesque costumes which in Kor way make such an occasion memorable, had been dropped; bnt a master of ceremonies there whs, mho welcomed the bride and groom and proposed their health at the feast that followed. Beer flowed abnndantly at the table, and whisky was poured lrom pocket flasks which were p. ssed about from hand to hand with a mock pretense of secrecy. The pastor, wno sat next to tne bride "at the head of the table, was so deeply absorbed in the eatables, to which he did full justice, that he affected not to see the dangerous bottles that circulated under his very nose. As it happened Gunnar Jound himself next to a city-clad stranger, in black broadcloth, resplendent with a gold watch (which he frequently consulted), and rings and watch chain o'f the same metal. This man turned out to be a near relative of the gmom, and a prosper ous grocer in Chicago. His name was Hans Larscn, but in order to propitiate the native car lie had changed it to John Lawson. And what was more, he wore a mustache, viith a smart twist at the ends, and a shiny fcilk hat. His square face showed the Norse peasant type plainly enough, but the ex pression had been sharpened, showing a shrewdness and wide-awake enterprise a Inch are rarely found in the original. "What is your name, if I may ask?" in quired this dazzling individual, addressing hinxelf to Gunnar. "'Gunnar Matson." "Whose son are you?'" "I am the son of Hans Matson; but he's deaa long ajro." Minns .ilalson v hat rear did he come to the United States?" "In 1SC4. 1 think." "Exactly. I knew him. He came in the Cunardtr Siberia." "I think he did. Mother has mentioned the name of that ship." "And he is dead, vou sav?" "Yes." "When did he die?" "About 18G7 or 18G8." "I beg your pardon; but there you are wrong; for I am pretty "sure I met him in Chicago in 1S7L" Gunnar gave a start which came near up setting his chair. He stared at Lawson with a perplexed incredulous gaze. "Are are you sure of it?" he managed at last to stammer. "Cock sure; though I own he was much changed. His name now what was his name? Blasted if I haven't forgotten it" "I wish you'd try to remember," the young man urged tremulously. Lawson ate on with a puzzled frown on his face, as if he was trying hard to recall the name. Gunnar, his eyes dilated with eagerness, dropped his kni'ie and fork and glanced anxiously at his mother, who was conduct ing a sober conversation on the prospects of the crops with a neighboring farmer. "I'll be parboiled if I can get hold of that name," ejaculated the grocer, in pretended vexation; "it was rather a queer name. Probably it will occur to me one of these days and then I'll let vou know." IV. When the feasting was at an end, and a proper interval had been allowed for di gestion, the fiddlers tuned up their instru ments and the dance commenced. Thegirls, in fresh calico and muslin dresses, stood squeezed together in the hall, giggling and whispering. Somebody among them was awfully witty, and made sarcastic observa tions on the men, which made the rest nearly explode with laughter. The young lads hung about the outskirts of the crowd, advanced and again retired, with a sheep ish air, as their courage failed them. The teasing encouragement of their friends and rivals, no less than the suppressed merri ment of the girls made them shrink from the decisive step. This was the situation when Gunnar and John Lawson came sauntering through the hall, in earnest conversation. The grocers, seeing the girls, suddenly lost his interert in Hans Matson's disappearance, and with a jaunty air strolled up to the blushing throng. "My, my, how pretty we are," he ex claimed with an exaggerated mock admira tion, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, and making absurd grimaces; "I 'wonder who is the prettiest of you; for I mean to have the prettiest or none." He gently pnshed himself into the midst of the crowd, while the girls drew back about him, laushing at his delightful wit. Some pushed bacc, and thnx it happened that In gerid Gretna was thrust right into Lawson's arms, which promptly closed about her waist. She was seriously annoyed, and tueged and pulled to get herself free. 'Gently, gently, my beauty, said Law son, "I won't bite you, my dear. You need not be afraid ol John Lawson." But she was a:raid, all the same, and cast imploring dances at Gunnar, who stood by, looking at the scene without thought of in ter ering. "I wish you would let mc go, Mr. Law ton," begged the girl, with a flushed, excited face, "I do wish you'd let me go." There was a petulant annoyance in her voice jwnicn lawson interpreted as mere mock modesty, and even when the tears started to her eyes he could not persuade himself that she was in earnest. "Why, 1 do really believe we are crying," he said in surprise. "Well, well;-you won't even dance with me?" "I am engaged to dance the first dance with Gunnar Matson," cried Ingerid, re torting to a bold fiction in her anxiety to escape from the odious fellow's arms. Gunnar, starting up as trom a dream at the sound of his name, stood for an instant irresolute, but as soon as he took in the sit uation, stepped forward and released the girl. "You must excuse me, Mr. Lawson," he said, without the least excitement, "but, since this is my dance, yoa'll have lobe content with the next" He had no desire at all to dance; but, of , course, when a girl appealed to him iu distress, he could not consult his own incli nation. Lawson, who was not at all a bad fellow, gave an awkward laugh and grabbed hold of the next girl in the crowd, who proved to be less skittish. The ice was now broken, and the.otherlads, overcoming their bashtulness, started forward with one ac cord, and swung a dozen more girls out upon the floor. Gunnar, when he had once begun to move to the rhythm of the music, felt a kind of intoxication in his blood, and he danced with a vehemence which must have taxed his partner's strength. There was a battle raging within him. This sweet, blonde, trustiul girl, whom he held ia his arms, who , responded so radiantlv to every glance he sent her; she was his Norse nasf nni h .Norse future, too; small aims and endeavors, J an uyjuc resiuauun ana contentment in emall things, & narrow concentration of in--tere'st upon food, clothes and petty econ omies, relieved by a little theological wjijuabbling about the pure Lutheran faith. Even though such a life was all for which he had a right to aspire, would it ever sat isfy him? The flashy grocer, Lawson, ap peared to Gunnar the very incarnation of success, and his jaunty bearing represented an unattainable ideal of manners. Why should not he, too, enter the race, and though he might not reach such an eminence as that of Lawson, why should he not content himself with a smaller measure of success? The parson said, he would imperii his soul's salvation. Well, his pure Lutheran could not he worth much if, in order to keep it undiluted, he had to se clude himself from all the rest of the world and avoid contact with those v who believed otherwise than he. He had hitherto ac cepted the parson's reasoning, or rather he had never thought of doubting its sound ness. But now a question arose: was it not his duty to start out in the world and find his lather, or at all events ascertain whether he was alive or dead? All these thoughts kept whirling con fusedly in Gunnar's brain, while he danced, and when finally the music ceased, he con ducted his fair partner out into the yard in order that the breeze might cool heron; She noticed his seriousness, and thinking he disapproved of the little fib by which she had gotten rid of Lawson, she began to pon der a little speech, Intended to put her mis demeanor in the most favorable light "I hope you are not angry with me," she said, looking up into his iace with a smile, intent upon mollification. "Oh, no; why should I?" he answered half absently. "Because because I wanted to get rid of that citytellow," begging forgiveness with her large innocent eyes. "Oh, don't bother about that," he ejacu lated ungraciously. "I can't help bothering about it, that is, unless you'll be nice and sneak to me as you used to." Gunnar gave a laugh and looked down at Ingerid's dimpled face with amused ten derness. "How did I use to speak to you?" he asked smiling. "Oh, now you are making fun of me," she replied in sweet confusion; "It isn't nice of you to make fun of me, Gunnar." There were others, evidently who were of the same opinion, though they had no defin ite data to argue from. On the "Woodpile in the yard sat Thorsten Sletten and five or six of his chums, all incensed at the open favor Ingerid showed Gunnar Matson, and determined on the first occasion to bring down his conceit a peg or two. Gunnar was instinctively aware of their sentiments towardhim, as he approached the woodpile, and seized the first opportunity to turn about when he could do so with self-respect But no sooner had he turned his back to the company than a shower of chips, pieces of bark and other light missiles hit him about the head and shoulders. He was inclined to take no notice of this challenge; but Ingerid, being less wise faced about again and said: "I wish you wouldn't do that, lads." A derisive ieer greeted this mild rennpst The cirl stood for a moment irresolute, blushing with vexation. "I guess you'll be sorry for it some day," she murmured, and reioined her comnaninn. Her implied championship of Gunnar did not tend to mollify his antagonists. He had scarcely walked two steps at her side, when a large piece of wood knocked his hat off, and raised a bump on the side of his head. "With the pain his anger flared up. He darted back to the woodpile, grabbed Thors ten Sletten, whom he suspected of being his assailant, by the leg and dragged him down. One of the stakes which confined the logs broke, and the whole pile tumbled down pell mell with the young men on the top of it Some of them got painful bumps and scratches which did not improve their tem per. One by one, as soon as he got upon his legs, malied at Gunnar with clenched fists; and the latter, finding himself at tacked on all sides, struck right and left, little heeding whom or where he hit It was a most unfair battle six against one. Ingerid's blood boiled as she saw her companion surrounded, beaten and pommeled by those envious fellows, only because she had favored him. He fought for awhile manfully returning blow for blow, and neither asking nor receiving quarter. But he was gradually getting the worst of it; she saw his flushed face above the knot of combatants, every muscle strained, his teeth clenched in savage wrath ana a nasn in nis eye 01 desperate resolu tion. Then suddenly down he went tripped up by some tricky foot, and the others fell upon him like raging hounds. The light died out of Ingerid's face, leaving it pale and terrified: for an instant she stood speech less; then, borne along by a mighty impulse, she rushed into the midst of the fighters, grabbed the first one she got hold of by the shoulders and flung him aside. It was Thorsten Sletten. "Oh, shame on you!" she cried. Thorston sent her a surly, sidelong glance and walked off, trying to hide his resent ment and mortification under an air of bravado. In another moment she had got ten hold of another offender, who likewise slnnk off with muttered curses; and the others unwilling to fight "a girl, got up hastily and took to their heels. Last of all Gnnnar rose, with slow and deliberate mo tions and turned toward her a red, swollen face, with white blotches and a streak of blood on his left cheek. He looked at her with a half shy awkward glance; at which all her sense of championship forsook her, and she felt a strange weakness in her knees. The crimson flush flared out upon her cheeks, and she fonnd it impossible to utter a word. Had she not been foolish in al lowing her heart to run away with her? She had put him in a humiliating position, and thought she would have liked to beg his pardon, she did not know how to frame the difficult words. And yet she had meant well. It was horribly per plexing. But why did he not speak? He ought to have had the gen erosity to say something, if only to relieve her awkwardness. She watched him with a dim sense of guilt, through which a slow re sentment glowed, while he wiped his bloody cheek with the sleeve of his coat, and pulled himself together to recover his wonted atti tude. "When he had as nearly as possible effaced all traces of the combat, he looked about to see if f hey were observed. Ingerid'a heart leaped into her throat He was now surely going to thank her. ' "I suppose you meant all right," he said, in a resentful tone; "but another time I wish you wouldn't do it" "But they were killing you, Gunnar," she cried in eager self-justification "Well, next time let them kill me," he answered doggedly. "Oh, how can you?" Bhe moaned, -too deeply wounded for tears. "I wish I wish I had never seen you." She felt weak and sore. Herheart seemed heavy as lead. The sunlight had a hard brightness which hnrt her eyes. The world had lost its glory. To relate how Gunnar accomplished the difficult task to get away from home would require a long chapter. He wrung a re luctant consent from his mother, after end less persuasion, by holding th'e promise that he would bring his father back to,her. The hope he had kindled in her heart flared up at times with a bright flame, and then died out again with a pathetic flicker. The mere possibility, however, that Hans might be alive imparted a new restlessness to her thought, and kept her, waking and sleep ing, in a state of subdued agitation. She discovered with surprise how deep her at tachment to him was, and how imposible it was to sail her wonted course ofpractical Toutmc, now that this new t beacon of hope had shed its light upon a wholly unsuspect ed region within her. A hot moisture olten rose to her eyes at the sudden thought of seeing Hans Matson again, 'after so many years of separation. All his aberrations were forgotten and forgiven, and the hard words they had spoken to each other, when opinions clashed, were as if wiped out from her memory. Curiously enough, the idea never occurred to her that he had perhaps consciously deserted her. She found no end of ingenious excuses for him; feeling confident that whatever he had done he had been guided by noble motives. There were actually moments when her affection for her son, which had hitherto been the' dominant sentiment of her life, paled before the passionate yearning for her lost and erring husband. And so it came to pass that Gunnar found himself one day ,oa the road to the nearest railroad station, tingling in every nerve with a sense of adventure. He ar rived on the following day without accident in Chicago, and was utterly dewildered by the grandeur and the noisy turmoil of the great metropolis of the "West The smoke oppressed his lungs. The shriek of loco motives on the lake front made him blind and deaf, and the underground buzzing and humming of the cable cars gave him a head ache. How could he hope to track his father in such a Babel of tumultuous con fusion? His first task, however, must be to find himself a hoarding place which might be used as a base of operations in his ex plorations. In the Scandinavian quarter of the city, called Vicker Park, he stumbled .upon a kindly policeman, whose face re vealed his Norse blood, and to him Gunnar confided his perplexities, and was directed to a cheap and respectable house kept by the widow of a Norwegian apothecary. The floor of the hall was covered with oilcloth and an odor of cooking was perceptible as soon as the front door was opened; but Gun nar was not fastidious, and, moreover, the kindly grace of the landlady, Mrs. Tonne son, would have reconciled 'him to worse in conveniences than culinary odors. At the dinner table he was introduced to about 20 people, mostly clerks in stores, and recent .arrivals from Norway, all of whom scanned his rustic attire with supercilious mien. There was particu larly a young lady, the daughter of Mrs. Tonneson, who made him uncomfortable 'by the critical and half amused expression with which she regarded him. His ears burned and his face glowed with the consciousness that she found him queer, but he was not angry with her only desperately deter mined to learn the ways of the world, and, if possible, to make her his teacher. She appeared dazzlingly boautiful'to the guile less young lellow. iter straw-colored hair, with a lot of frizzy curls hanging down over her forehead, impressed him particularly. Her features were small and fine, but there was a consciousness of the admiration she excited in the way she carried her attractive, blonde head. Perhaps there was even a touch of petulance in her motions like that of a spoiled child, who knows that every thing it does is becoming. But Gunnar was not discerning enough to detect something a trifle stagey in this assumed youthfulness, nor did he observe the languishing look that stole into her eyes at odd moments, alternat ing with a look of dreary fatigue. She wore a long thin gold chain about her neck, to which a watcb was attached, stuck, in Norse fashion, into the belt that encircled her waist Many an admiring glance was stealthily sent toward her by the younger clerks, whom she studiously ignored. But shs flirted with hysterical liveliness with a middle-aged student recently arrived from Norway, whose deep beer base and jaunty manners had evidently nade an impression upon her. The next day he went in search of his friend John Lawson, whom he found in a dingy grocery shop on Milwaukee avenue, looking far less dazzling than on the occa sion of their last meeting. Me communi cated to him his purpose to seek his father, and asked Lawson it he could now recall the name by which he was known. The grocer, seating himself on a barrel of flour, fell into a brown study. "What'll you give me?" he asked, sud denly lifting his head, "if I put you on your dad's track?" "Give youl" repeated Gunnar, feeling rather crestfallen, "I don't know that I have anything to give you." "Well, you must be smart enough to know that Hans Matson will scarcely thank me for putting the old woman on the scent of him." "Do you mean to say," exclaimed Gun nar, wrathfully, "that my father is a scoun drel?" "Hush, hush, young man; not so fast I said nothing of the sort.'' Gunnar was in sore perplexity. A host of new ideas rushed in upon him. If his father was living under an assumed name it was quite obvious that he did not wish his family to find him. It was odd that that view of the case had not presented itself to him and his mother his poor mother who supposed that shame, poverty ormisiortuue Kept mm irom returning to her) "Well, come what might, he was re solved to sound the mystery to the bottom. "Then you won't help me?" he said to Lawson, who was yet sitting on the flour barrel, trimming his nails with a pocket knife. "That depends upon what you'll give," answered Lawson, intent upon his task. "I have nothing to give. I have-scarcely enough to get along, until I get something to do." "Will you give me your note of hand for $500, payable in five years, for value re ceived, if the clew I furnish you is correct, the note to be canceled if my clew is not correct?" "But suppose I am not worth $500, in five years?" "I'll take my chances on that" Gunnar pondered for some minutes, then with a reckless fling of his head, held out his hand and said: "Well, since there is no other way, I sup pose I shall have to agree to your terms." Lawson rising stuck his 'knife into his pocket and grasped his visitor's hand. "Wait a minute," he said, "and I'll go with you." VL The grocer reappeared presently m his holiday attire of black broadcloth and with the silk hat set askew upon his head. Hav ing obtained the young man's note of hand he took his arm, ushered him on board a street car "and seated himself solemnly at his side. They rode for 20 or 30 minutes up one street and down another, through a bewilder ing tnrmoil of traffic and stopped at last before a huge, ugly brick block, across the walls of which a succession of gilt letters traced the inscription: "The Norman Reaper and Mower Company.-" Through the windows could be seen big -wheels re volving and straps of leather belting flying up and down, lengthwise and crosswise; while tbe,glow from the mouths of the fur naces showed black figures wiih leather aprons moving to and, fro like cyclops in subterranean smithies. There was a whirl ing and a rattling and a hammering, rasp ing of saws and clanking of metals, fit to split one's ears. The w hole enormourouild ing seemed to be trembling with an intense white heat activity. Gunnar and his companion paused for a moment to contemplate the structure and then entered an outer office on the second floor, in a part of the building which was separated trom the factory by a wide hall. Lawson wrote his name on a slip of paper and begged a doorkeeper to hand it to Mr. Norman. The reply was soon returned that if he could wait for half an hour, Mr. Nor man would be at leisure. Gunnar did not dare to ask the question which was trlmbling on his lips: who was this Mr. Norman? Surely not his father. A rich and powerful man he must be, since such a crreat lactorr was named after him And yet who could tell? He feared Law son would think him foolish if he ventured to utter what was in his mind. At last, when the half hour was at an end, and three men had entered and left the smaller room, partitioned off from the main office by a wainxcoted wall ot ash, the doorkeeper conducted the two expectant Norsemen into the chiets presence. Gunnar found him self face to face with a robust man of 45, with a brown beard, sprinkled with gray, and fine, energetic features. He was care fully, almost fashionably dressed; but there was in his bearing something angular, and uncompromising, a kind of homespun. blunt directness. His expression was, how-. ever, a, irme worried, ami nis eyes were restless. He looked like a strong man with a bad conscience. "I thought I'd drop in and see you," be gan Lawson, uneasily.., v "How much?" asked -Norman quickly; "tell me how much you demand. You know I have no time for fooling. Aud please give me a respite now. I think I've earned it" "How yon do go on." grumbled the grocer. "I haven't- said a word about money. I just brought you this young man, who is looking for a job. You'd oblige me if you could give him a position of some kind in the office or the factory." The manufacturer, bridling his impa tience, fixed his eyes with a startled glance upon Gunnar. The Norse type in the youth was unmistakable, the frank blue eyes, half appealing in their trnstfulness, the blonde hair brushed back from the forehead with a sort of rising wave, the short, strong, regu lar teeth, and a certain amiable rusticity in manner and bearing, Norman saw. perhaps even more; but, knowing that his uneasy conscience was apt to play him tricks, he dismissed the memories which rose up be fore him. "What can the yonng man do?" he asked in a matter-of-tact tone, turning to Lawson. "Oh. I guess he can do almost any thing." ' "That's the same as to say that he can do nothing." "I reckon that he can earn his board and lodging, and that is about all he expects to do, for the present." "Very well, I'll find him a place. It is a pity he doesn't understand English." "You may well say so, and he was born in the State of Minnesota." "Gieat ScottI Don't I know the work of those blasted parsons! A native of the United States, 18 or 19 years old, who doesn't understand the language of his country! xou d nave to travel all over tne globe to find another case like it Bnt those little Lutheran popes, they know what they are about For the moment their people learn English and can assimilate American ideas they are lost to the parson. They can no longer be gnided and bullied and threat ened with eternal damnation, if they think a little for themselves, and indulge a little heresy on the subject of the infallibility of the Norwegian Lutheran Synod." This was, as Lawson knew, a sore topic with Norman. He was intensely American in sentiment and railed against the Norwe gian clergy for isolating their countrymen lrom the national, life and discouraging them from learning the English language. "I'd pay that young fellow a good salary if he had had a good English common school education," he went on indignantly, "but in order to keep his pure Lutheran faith undiluted, he has been allowed to grow up in ignorance in a parochial school, led on the husks of doctrinal squabbles, and studiously kept an alien, in the midst of this rich and beautiful country, to be a citizen of which ought to be a source of pride to any man." Lawson who had always tried to keep a safe middle ground on this question, being a Norseman among Norsemen and an Amer ican among Americans, regarded it as im prudent to commit himself and therefore I only nodded an equivocal approval and murmured: "H'm, yes; that's a factl Shouldn't won der." It was soon settled that Gnnnar was to be employed in the factory at a salary of ?8 a week, with the promise of advancement as rapidly as his usefulness warranted. . He had sat gazing silently at the big railroad map which covered one wall of the office, while Lawson and Norman settled his fate,be ine unable to comprehend their language. Tt was a relief to him.ro follow the thick red lines across the continent; intersecting with thinner red lines and black lines; for it en abled him seemingly to divert his thought from the all-absorbing consciousness which glowed and labored within him, that this was indeed his father. Indignation, on his mother's account, was at first bis uppermost tceling; but, on the other hand, it seemed difficult to believe ill of a man with a face like that of Mr. Norman. If he was a scoundrel, as Gunnar was compelled to be lieve that he was, he must have found it terribly hard work. For nature had never meant him to be a scoundrel. Yet, the more he was to blame. The thought oc curred to the young man, and had no sooner occurred than it took complete possession of his mind, that he would avenge upon this heartless adventurer the sorrow and suffer ing he had caused his poor, abandoned wife, during all these " years. But to do this, he must follow Nor man's example. He must disguise himself. "What form his vengeance was to take, he could not decide on the spur of the moment But he would unmask the im postor; hold him up before the communitv whose admiration he courted, as the black hearted monster he was. And to this -end, he would instantly set about learning En glish. He would devote all his energies to it, and accomplish it in the shortest possible time. He started palpably, while nursing this passionate purpose, when Mr. Norman ad dressed him; but understood presently fhat he was to write his name in a book. His transparent face bespoke the turmoil that agitated his heart He began to divine that Lawson, who was probably the only one in possession of Mr. Norman's secret, had made it as profitable to himself as pos sible; and that now, when the manufacturer was beginning to tire of his blackmail, he was turning it to Iresh account in similar transactions with the opposite side. All these reflections flashed through his brain, as he received the pen from Lawson's hand. He stooped down over the ledger and wrote: Finn Varsko, Norman glanced cursorily at the signa ture and closed the book. "Finn "Varsko," he murmured, "that is a curious name." VIL Two years passed rapidly and Gunnar be came proficient in English. He took a lesson of one hour every evening from his landlady's daughter, the charming Mathilda, who, when the student with the beer base had taken French leave (neglecting to set tle his board bill), pitied the solitary young man from the backwoods, and taught him a variety of things beside English grammar. She was a curious mixture, this fascinating Mathilda; and Gnnnar. though not lacking in common sense, found himself unable to judge her. Two attributes, however, he learned to distinguish in her. He took her to be adorably simple and kind hearted, and full of good impulses; but he could not deny that she was an ontrageous flirt He im agined, too, that she put up with him some times, because she pitied his loneliness; and at other times, for want of anybody more desirable. "When you can't get tobacco to smoke, they say in Norway, mbss is a fair substitute. Anything ot the masculine gender was fair game for Mathilda, and her time hung heavily on her hands when no masculine creatures were about One would suppose that Gunnar, armed with this knowledge, would have been proof against her blandishments. But no knowl edge is a protection against that kind of as sault There was to him a delicious thrill of danger in the situation, which to her was entirely absent. She had seen more of the world than he, and sometimes, in order to tease him, gave him grandmotherly advice. She wormed his innocent secrets out of him, and obtained finally a confession of all his misdeeds. He felt so desperately wicked in having won the love of Ingerid, and then spurned it, that it was a great relief to him to be able to call himself hard names in the presence of a sympathetic listener. He djd not fail to perceive that Mathilda, while condemning his faithlessness, looked upon him with a livelier interest alter this confi dence, and he conld not help feeling darkly heroic, in the midst of all his wickedness. What a lovely character, he argued, this gentle maiden must have, to forgive all his past, and treat him with such kindness and sweet consideration. "Why, know ing how disinterested she was, should he hold back from her his other and far more important secret? He had re peatedly hinted at it in her presence, and though her curiosity had been vaguely piqued, she had failed to rise" to the occa sion. She treated his mysterious allusions as if she only half believed them, and re plied to his dark observations with an ab sentminded vivacity which tried him sorely. He felt at last that his self-respect compelled him to reveal the plot of which he was both victim aud author. He was irritated beyond all endurance, and anticipated -with a mor bid satisfaction the sensation he would make when he should (explode his bomb. But here he was again destined to disap pointment The shrewd Mathilda betrayed no great astonishment He saw by 'the glance she gave him from under her long lashes that she thonght he was romancinir. hut was too considerate to tell him so. He had then no choice but to produce his proof, and when Mathilda finally had no choice but to believe him he could nolongercharge her with indifference. She betrayed an alacrity and an indigna tion on his behalf wbioh were extremely flattering. He felt with gratified vanity how immensely he had risen in her esteem. Unsophisticated though he was, he ob served that she dressed with more care for their lessons and exerted all her arts to please in a way" which formerly wonld never have occurred to her. It was an intoxica tion of bliss to sit at her side on her sofa, -while her hair grazed his cheek, and her hand sometimes by some vagrant impulse stole into his, and her dark blue eyes sud denly flashed upon him a glance full of ten der meaning. She could put on a look of such appealing innocence that Gunnar had to exert all his self-restraint to keep himself within bounds. A wild desire seized him more than once to clasp her in his arms and cover her face with hisses; but at such moments his fancy wonld conjure up the sweet face of Ingerid with tearful eyes and lips quivering in infantine distress, an,d the sense of his own bareness would over whelm him and sober his passion. Gunnar saw Mr. Norman almost daily during these two years. He had an idea that his chief watched him, and during his con stant unannounced ronnds through the fac tory paid special attention to his work. He saw him frequently speak to the foreman of his division; and twice, after these confer ences, Gnnnar was promoted and his pay in creased. When Mr. Norman addressed him, as he occasionally did, it was usually to ask him how he was getting on with his En glish. One day when the bell was rung and all other hands were hurrving away, 3un- nar was so engrossed in a delicate piece of work which had been entrnsted to him that he could not tear himself away. Suddenly, as he looked up, he saw the chief standing with his hands on his back, gazing at him. As Gunnar paused Mr. Norman took up the piece of metal at which he had been filing and examined it critically. "Look here, Finn Varsko," he said, "you are not a bad workman." Gunnar blushed with pleasure. He had never heard Mr. Norman praise anyone b'e fore. "Have you any brothers?" asked the chief, after a while, as he laid down the metal. "No, I have neither brothers nor sisters." "And your parents; are they 3ead?" "My mother is alive; but my father " "Is dead. Yes, I supposed so. And you had to go out into the world to earn your living. I suppose you send part of your earnings to your mother?" "Yes, as much as I can spare." "That's right. I am glad you are a good son; that is what I like to hear." About a week alter this conversation, Mr. Norman again paused in front of Gunnar's bench, "How much do you pay for your board?" he asked. "Five dollars a week." "I live alone." "If you will take a room in my house, you may pay for it by extra work, which I will give you; mostly copying and me chanical drawing. Yoa'll then be able to send $5 more every week to your mother." "But do yon think, sir. that I'll be able to do that kind of work?" "Leave that to me. I know what I am about." "But, sir, I don't think I can accept it" "Well, do as you like. You may give me youranswer to-morrow." When he got home that night Gunnar expected to be praised for his self-denial in refusing the rich man's invitation, for he hoped Mathilda would divine that it was ont of regard for her that he had foregone so great an advantage. But to his surprise the young lady called him a dunce, and told him almost in so many words that in look ing out for his own interest he also served hers. She felt apparently so sure of him that she was more than willing to run the risk ofteparation. It was of herself she was in doubt, but this doubt he could easily dispel by a great stroke of business like the one which he bad. .confided to her. Br getting Mr. Norman in his power (of which he had a far better chance when living in his house) he could make his everlasting fortune; and she hoped sincerely he would show that he bad the grit of a man, and would allow no foolish molli- coddle sentiment to interfere with his plan. When he had ascertained beyond the shadow of doubt that Mr. Norman was the same as Hans Mattson, then was his opportunity. He must then threaten dis closure and make the best terms possible for pledging himself to silence. Be it said to the credit of our hero, that he rebelled against this project It was jus tice he wanted, -justice for his deluded, sor rowing mother, Who had been cheated out of her life's happiness by this man's duplic ity and cruelty. To make money out of such a transaction seemed to him sordid, base, infamous. He dame near quarreling outright with Mathilda, who, with all her cleverness, was not clever enough to dis cover that she had made a fatal mistake in affording him so deep a glimpse into her hard and mercenary little heart She had to resort to tears and caresses in order to ob literate the impression, wherenpon she over whelmed him with reproaches lor having thought her capable of the very scheme which she had a moment ago developed. And he.poor fellow, kissed her and begged her forgiveness for having misunderstood her; and imagined that, very likely, Lis in tellect was not sufficiently subtle to compre hend the fine gradations ot meaning con veyed in this exquisite creature's speech. He was . so preposteronsly happy at the privi leges she now granted him, that he could not have found it ia his heart to blame her, if she, had proposed to him a systematic transgression of the Ten Commandments, beginning with the first and ending with the tenth. After this delightful reconciliation, Gun nar accepted Mr. Norman's offer and in stalled himself in two pleasant rooms over looking Lake Michigan. And Mathilda, who, perhaps, overestimated her hold upon his affections, resolved to postpone the exe cution of her plan until a more favorable moment VIII. It required no greatingenuityon Gunnar's part to discover Mr. Norman's object in taking him into his house. Under the pre tense of giving him work, he was really giving him lessons in mechanical drawing and construction of machines. The manu facturer was a man of genius in his way, self-taught, loving work and glorying in it. He had a workshop at the top of his honse, fitted out with exquisitely finished tools and mechanical appliances of many kinds. There he spent his happiest hours, experi menting with his inventions and models for improvements in machinery. He was im patient of dullness and often irritable. But, on the other hand, his wrath was short lived, and he was anxious to heal by kindness the wounds which his hard words sometimes in flicted. "The worst thing about the world " ho said to Gunnar one day, while they were working side by side in their shirt sleeves. ' '! nnt t.n ! 3- T.-J 1 a "1 ta t- .' t . uv mat it is UUU, UUt lb IS BlUpia. JLlOOK at all those great, ttrong, fine Scandinavian fellows who come over here every year by the thousand." They are too stupid to see the chances which this country offers to every man with a sound, heart and a sound brain. They allow themselves to be bur dened with the same old yoke which they bore at home; nay, they themselves invite their taskmasters, the Lutheran parsons, to come after them and put a ring through their noses and lead them bv the straight and narrow path of Lutheran orthodoxy to an imaginary paradise, where, after having worked all their lives for the parsons they are to work no more. What folly, what monstrous stupidity! Work no more! As if work were a curse, instead of being the greatest blessing that God has given to man." ' Taciturn as his chief usually was, Gnnnar prepared himself for an hour's discourse, when he by chance stumbled upon the par sons. -Unjust he was, no doubt, and one sided, as persons of his temperament are apt to be; but for all that Gunnar could not help beinginfluenced by what he said, which, with all its exaggeration, contained not a little truth. Strive. as he might, he could not. suppress, a sneaking kindness for the , "- T -v. man whom he persistently regarded as his enemy. "What sort of heart muit a man have to ignore the bonds of blood, desert wife and child, and trouble himself no more about the woman who loved him and grieved for him, than.if she had never existed. Mr. Norman's absorption in machinery and his enthusiasm for the marvels of nature, filled the young man at times with a savage wrath which he could with difficulty repress. For what were steel and iron compared to flesh and blood; what were pitiless screws and! levers compared to bleeding hearts and weening eyes? It was not easy, indeed, to' maintain in Mr. Norman's presence, this hostile attitude. And had Gunnar had sufficient insight to know what a possession, what an imperions mania genius may be, he would have pardoned his lather and loved him instead of persuading himself that he hated him. He foresaw plainly that if he were to fill his role as avenging angel, he must strike quickly and blindly before his lurking af fection should get the upper hand of him. Torn with conflicting emotions he hurried to Mrs. Tonneson's boarding house in Vicker Park and took counsel with Mathilda. See ing that she could not prevent the expose, the shrewd damsel swiftly conceived a plan by which she might shield Gunnar from the consequences, and at the same time earn for herself a little cash, of whiih she was sorely in need for a new dress. She persuaded her lover, with the. aid of caresses and tender cajolery, to let her manage the affair, and he, after many remonstrances, finally acquiesced. Only there must, be no delav. The blow must be struck at once. He feared, though he did not confess it, that if she gave him time for reflection his courage would desert him. The next day was Saturday, and Mathilda gave her word that in Sunday morning's, racers Mr. Norman's crime should be properly trumpeted, with flaring headlines and spicy details. It was really a great relief to Gunnar to escape striking the blow with bis own hand. And yet he was anything but happy. A kind of perverse sense of duty, which he had stimulated by meditation upon his mother's wrongs, forbade him to withdraw; and yet he felt mean and dastardly, as he sat opposite to his father at the dinner ta ble, listening to his kindly and instructive talk. The desire to benefit and instruct him was so.obvions that every remark cut the son to the quick and made him quiver with suppressed excitement. He was on the point of breaking down and confessing bis plot; but the thought of his mother's toil and suffering braced him up again and made him adhere to his resolution. When the meal was at an end he was about to hurry away from the kindness that scorched him; but Mr. Norman put his hand on his shoulder and asked him to step into the library, as he had something very particu lar to say to him. When they were seated in easy-chairs before the open fire they smoked for,awhile in meditative silence. But the face of each betrayed dimly the emotions which wrestled within him. "Finn," began Mr. Norman, blowing a slender column of smoke toward the fire place, "will you do me a favor?" "I shall have to know first what it is." "Well, you are right in not making rash promises. But when I tell voa that mv peace of mind, my, happiness, depends upon your doing this for me, I think you'll not refuse. Gunnar's heart thumped in his throat He dreaded what was to come, and yet he could not tell whether it was a wild joy or a desperate anxiety which chased the blood through his veins and made the pulse ham mer in his temples. "The fact is, Finn, I have a wife and a son," Mr. Norman continned. "I know they are both living, and I want you to go to them, tell them I am alive and love them as much as ever. Tell them I am a rich man, and that I want them to come and spend the rest of their days with me." He stared fixedly into the fire while speak ing; but Gunnar saw his lip tremble, and a sudden moisture clouded his eyes, and made him rise abruptly and pace the floor. "How long is it since you left your wife and son?" asked Cymnar, with a mighty effort not to betray his emotion. "Eighteen years, my boy," answered Nor man huskily, "18 years." He continued to walk up and down on the floorJVith his head bent. "You think I am much to blame; and you are right I wish I could explain it to you; but I can't I was miserable' in the Norse settlement, utterly, inconceivably miserable because there was something in mewhich no one understood and myself least of all. I told in my innocence the Norwegian parson of it, and he said it was the devil tempting me. I thought for a while he was right My wife agreed with the parson; I was of no use to her, and gave her many a bitter bonr. I had no choice but to break" away. She her self consented to it Hard and toilsome, but not unhappy .years followed. I found my work, and I bless God for that. I have not known a really unhappy hour since, though I have suffered from remorse and a longing for those who are dear to me." "Why, then, did you not go to them?" asked Gunnar, in a voice which no effort could steady. "Young man, it may seem foolish to you, if I say that JU never had the time," an swered Norman, flinging himself again into the arm chair; "bnt for all that, it is the fact My work has' possessed me like a first love which kept me awake at night I post poned and again postponed doing my duty, because I dreaded to see the Norwegian parsons in my house, until I should feel strong enough to fight them on their own ground. I assumed the name Norman sim- ?y to escape the same influence in my life, wanted to be wholly an American, and take the place to which my ability entitled me in the American community. 1 could never have done that if I had again assumed the spiritual yoke which it cost me such a dire struggling to throw off." "Then it is as a burden .you take back wile and child?" asked Gunnar with a re sentful glance. "Ob, no. I love them; I have longed after them. I want them!" cried his father, starting up again and resuming his restless walk. "But I know I can never make it plain to you, how you can love a person and yet de plore certain phases of his character. Once my wife came near subjugating me, and from the best of motives crushing out that which was noblest and most precious in me. As long as I feared that, I feared her. Now I fear it no longer and I can afford to let her know that I love her." They talked on for about an hour; and Gunnar without undisguising himself as sumed the proposed mission. He began dimly to comprehend that his father, driven and impelled by his genius, which was an overmastering force in his life, could not be judged by the same standard as lesser men. But just as he had risen to receive Mr. Nor man s thanks, something touched him with a cold horror and sent a shudder down his back. His revenge 1 His wretched revenge! He was about to dishonor his father just as he was showing himself v most honorable. Bnt nerhans there was vet time 1 It was 10 o'clock and the papers scarcely went to press until 1 or 2 in the morning. With his head in a whirl he rushed out of the front door, hired a horse at a neighboring stable and drove to Vicker Park. There he had a stormy inter view with Mathilda, in which adainty little cloven hoof of mercenary interest peeped forth all too plainly from under the em broidered skirts. She had a check for $50 in her pocket, which she had received from the Daily Trombone for the spicy revela tions regarding Mr. Norman's wickedness, and she was-naturaily reluctant to part with it. But in return for Gunnar's promissory note for $150, she finally released her tight little clutch, and gave it up; but like a great manyTieople who are too clever tor their own good, Mathilda had really outwitted herself. She had made 100, but she had lost a lover. She had a dim presentiment when her excitement had cooled, that Gunnar's love for her had received a mortal woundf and iu this presentiment she was right. The return of the check, the declaration of the falsity of the alleged revelations, and the threat of a suit for libel sufficed, after considerable discussion, to make The Trombone renounce the promising sensa-. tion. Gunnar, to make assurance doubly sure, remained to see the manuscript and proof destroyed and the type redistributed. As be caught glimpses of such monstrous headline, "A Double Life "f "A Yilkia Unmasked," "A Eich Mail's Crime," etc, he realized what a narrow escape he had bad from committing cruel and dastardly deed. A week after this episode Gunnar led a tall and stately woman of 40 into Norman's library. The manufacturer was standing with his hands in his pockets and his back to the fire. There was a vague anxiety in his face and an occasional twitching of the muscles about the mouth, as if he were trying to master a strong emotion. He started forward, with both hands out stretched, when' the door opened, bat paused in, the middle of the floor, gazing with a strange uncertainty at the two persons- who entered. The handsome matron r became conscious of a slight embarrassment, as she noted his expression and the joyous eagerness which had ani mated her features gave way to an anxious confusion. He was so different from what she had expected. Eighteen long years lay between them with the slow transformation they had 'wrought. They had taken her husband from her and substituted another who was he and yet not he. This good look ing middle-aged gentleman with a full beard and clad in city attire, how could he ever be, to her what the shabby, restless, dis contented Norse patient, Hans Matson, had been? ''And vet", as he pressed her hands and welcomed her, though not with the free and joyous rmg; she had expected, she caught a giimpe in bis look and manner of the man she' had loved. And the cadence of his yoice rang with clear vibrations through the depth of her soul. "But the boy, the boyl" were the first wordse uttered; "he is not dead?" "The boy' she replied, with a slow, dubious accent; "No, he isn't dead." "But why-did you not bring him?" She Started with a mizzled lnnfc fir.t ot her son, then at her husband. "I don't understand it at all," she ejacu lated in a fervor of amazement "Gunnar," she continued, turning to the youth, "why do you not speak to your father?" It was now Norman's turn to be amazed. He started back with an exclamation of sur prise. He rnbbed his eves as if to clear his vision. Then with a dawning joy in his face he'grasped the hand which the young uiau iiciu uui. 10 mm. "Finn Varsko!" he cried, "you have robbed me of a son in return for the one you give me." Copyrighted, 1839. All rights reserved. AI, OLD L0YE LETTER'S AID. How the TsBderSIltilTe Helped a Soldier j to Get a Pension. Mr. Mayer the Special Examiner of the Bureau of Pensions, says the Chicago Newt, told of a. man" who lives up in Butler coun ty. He is paralyzed from a sunstroke re ceived while on the march to Washington to therand review after the surrender of Lee. Not a man could be found to assist In proving his claim'. All his comrades of the march were scattered or dead. T,here was not a scrap of paper of official record. "I was satisfied," said Mr. Mayer, "that here was a genuine ease. His story was al ways consistent, and then he was a compar atively helpless paralytic. He could move about a little, but could do no work. I tried in every imaginable way to get him to recall something, that would give me a clew, but visit after visit to him brought nothing. "I finally asked him one day if he ever wrote letters home, and if he might not have written about that time. " 'Why, yes,' he said, T used to write to my sweetheart' " 'And where is she now?" I asked. " 'There She is. " 'Did you ever save any of those letters, madam?' I inquired. (Just as though a woman didn't always save her love letters, tied up in a ribbon.) " 'Vhy, yes, I believe all the letters he Aver wrote in ft nrn T-ntnfwi eAmarhAa n- ' she replied. Pretty soon she came back with a, worn' and fadded package of letters' from her then sweetheart describing the very incident of the sunstroke. He had written her as won as he had recovered sufficiently and told how the day was op pressive and the march to Washington hot and dusiy, and how he had been overcome with the heat and had fallen out by the way side and had Iain under a tree, all day long while the columns were marching by. "That letter to his sweetheart saved the day. It got him. his pension. He had been trying ever since 1865 until recently to se cure it It was a great case in which I be came profoundly interested and I rejoiced- wita mm. A TEEI GRATEF0L B0ESE. She Wallu.In(o Her Master1 Bedroom to Thnnk Hliafor llnd Treatment. Lewis to n.JonrnalJ A -well-known man who lives not far from Newcastle, Me., told me of an experi ence he had a feW winters since with a horse of which J'e was very fond. He was driving acr0ssJefierson pond one afternoon when the. mare went through. the ice. In an instant the sleigh also went under. The gentleman managed to get out of the water himself after a valiant struggle, when, find ing himself upon a firm footing, he turned his attention to the horse. After along time, the assistance of two men was secured and, even then, nearly an bonr elapsed be fore the poor horse was" rescued, thoroughly chilled and exhausted. a Kot far off, the owner had a friend who lived in the old-fashioned house in which I listened to the story, a house' with a cellar kitchen. . r He led ihe mare straight into this kitcheh'where she lay down, gladly enough before a big, blazing fire. Warm blankets were thrown upon the poor creature, and hot drinks were given to her. Then her owner, prettv well chilled and tired out himself, riassed into a bedroom on the same floor and soon fell asleep. About midnight he was awakened by something passing over the bed-clothes. He felt a little startled. Then he felt a warm breath 1 upon his face, and lot the mare had come into the room to find her master and ibank him, for she fell to licking his face gently! Her owner was manly enough .to own up that he was so touched that he cried over her. Finally he rose, led her back to the kitchen, threw a big log upon the coals and hown lay the, Intelligent mare while her master, silently registering a vow that the grateful creature should never pass out of his hands returned to bis own bed. I used the expression "he was manly enough," for I share' this belief of ' Bayard Taylor, "The bravest are tenderest'' BONNETS A M&AS3 OF GSAC& Good-IiookJns; Head Gear Considered a aa j) Aid to DeTotloo. Iievlston'JoniBal.1 A good-looking bonnet, like a handsome rose or the strain of a church organ may be a means of grace. Where, is the consistency that adorns the pulpit with flowers and fes toons the organ loft with evergreen branches and yet frown oh the pretty bonnet in the front pew? It is charged that some folks go to church, tp seethe fashions? Do not the fashions, then, call them in, aud what more does the church bell do? If looking on beautiful objects puts the mind in a calm and receptive frame of miud why is not the handsome bonnet an aid to devotion, not only to the wearer bnt to those who sit be hind her? It is not the wosaan who is satis fied that she looks just right who thinks of her clothes instead of the sermon. It is she who is wondering whether that pin heeoses unfastened or that(flower bent oat of shape.' Ana now muca pleasure it is to let one eves rest on an artiitic combination of .Ia,ie and feathers than oh the same materials pat on an awry or even on tne Daiu and sleepy head of the-goou'old "chareh pillar" in the front pew. It may often be unjust judesaeat to take the outoide of the head as aa indieattoa a sorrof biosseraingoBt of wbatkineide, but people have always so jidged aad ate lbly always wMl." Iveaa'very shMrflhaV has been known to display awe oh hales, as ire u wim wirarn me meiaerwaaa se aa esBeeMuir awossan aw isaait v. THE FIEESIDE SPHIM A CgMgh of Identical Hits for, Hois (Mm, Addreu communtcattoruor tMt departmtnt toE.B.-OHADBOtrBH.ieweB.Jfas5 788 AS TOLAWFTJI. "WXiPOX. ,' i 789 SKVEEAI. PAIBS OT .TWUtl. To show you what I mean by twist, , Take Jurfur. U you please. This I would call two fars or sUas, " That make a scalp, dtsesse, ;.' I- t Two common flounders frost the fe.1 auks irom neaa to tail, Inplumace, voice and shape wBl be The Persian nightingale. -V Two drones, as exiles from tka mML A Each mad enough to frothy ' Proceed to India, there to fona . A kind of cotton cloth. ? in. wo sailors, on tne shore oucemed. - - -.- Securely apprehend; ,-.. ' And now the laugh on you is turned, Vaii,. Mlt.hr aMIMalf m v Im. jl " --:iBfflEJW?jSIL t3V L r-f -s hi k L If J PLJaHL,! ilia.: -13 bbKdSBBf .v. ig MULU, IUKU. HI Ulfl - s . " I7- z. -- -$ Two hands (of conrserourself aadlf Have ne'er them to tradncedl ' "Will make a tree a score feet tegb, In climates warm produced. V. Two nicknames, rarely leaviBj beys " Till they have men become vr m snow you dt a aearBMg neua A large, flat, Hindoo dram. . V. Two bugle notes, of strains qa&e siwfV xnatonyourneariBKtteu, ' 'i tt in fiimo a uiru ql sparrow nw h Whose home is la BraaB, VTJ. Two hedges, such as trim a laws. Or vet a garden shield- Become by use of Drain asd bnn. a. recce or oanjc coaeeaiea. tut. ., Two aromatic coffee trees v ' ' 5 Tb flourish near Mm Nlte.- d Produce a sugar ptam witto ea, vi; ' On which all chlWrea Bi8e..4 Fn 790--NTJMSRICJLU ' ' Tb e whole to him who uademaads.! Quite plainly has a hundred feawk. - The word is not Si 2, 8; bo qmcxjy you caa it 1,2,7. 3 and 8. 'tis true. -,- inu iu need, to find a ureeer cae: ','- Then simple 'erR'rwill do tbe rest-jAt Patience, more eiefaatly eeesej&f$, v ' UiTTER KVHt,' 791 DOUBLE OBtOSQ. :'iit 1. A demand (obs.). 2, Reality. 3. Aketf , f el low at Magdalen College, Oxford, i. AHght- producing vessel, instrument ur apparatus, a. To wander about and bee. & TemofMrt. Wt plunder. 8. ApabUcwaUc 9. As eSeer. stew ard, or governor. Id- Part of the arm. llAa ancient game at ball, practised is some yerw of England. 12. Pomp, show, or frwriiHa, ' t 1. Calamities. 2. To storm. 3. ue4illow- . ance. 4. To vacillate. 6. Aa aeVer;9Mt- nai moraer. o. is constituent jk -qii.xctem-tence. 7. The llqnor t a taa rat. 8.lf Ufa lie. 9. Tbe aparrmeot is fc, Cwasieongllal where th e idol Is in-ot. ML Assist M.'JLmr$ In Africa. 12. A proas;. " Join with the letters toruimr e es-aff1- of the signers of thejeetotia eC. 1 eoce, and get these woros ei atae mi 1. Very short-tailed babooes. X. ' anee given to a factor sty Ms juisi as a compensation for his services. 3.-T low eve's country, t (Ichth.) Ao. eePilw ftekk.aClire genus Petroayzon. 5. A preface. & la Ba-. gland, x stick wita a basket tinnitb WM.ia rustic asmsements. 7. A small 1 8. A kind or Detrei found Teeiona. 9. Turnirar back. Ml A .Simmfaia vantor attendant; U. A-owef fer ttartsea , Uon of bells. 12. A diea. at leal, akltSkmlirit other white meat- freed ftea boaee, aao boiled and served cold. SSjmbI 792 PiXlXSBOXS. In California. saT.re leajped A tradesman kaac ataea asa a His living there. Above taedaec He huaz a slaa that ntatato- tmi The name By waiea tea tow IiaijiS " " " wwww m HH1J There's notatod e4d tnMs, yea'safjj uukiem vni.ai aomci From right to left, or Mt se i The tame resale wffl oosne 1 Now. tell me whet ta To make teas haMaetdBie etga. -sn 798 XKAWlTJejr. One are cotes of Portage! Useful, although rather smalt. Yon should dee, whoe'er year Aree, uomea m, rea as urea eB hef ? at Find for htm the easiest eaait. For his welfare hare a ear. 794 THE TAKKHS'S TTOgji , A Yankee and an Arab met fa, thai oanara. juoAoau wim am which tne x anzee was oeeiroas o Dut tne uner uaa oaiy jwf-eaeaafl ssaaarsa-. payfor21poaaaofaste.aad' rttaetecTthe "It will sot be pose We to "nfi Win ilsiloi. said the Ara s, and he was pttwlwr MieeTe on when the Yankee stopped him. , '. "WaItamlBUte,V M be, -1 thWctl eaa weigh them. I hare here a yatasMel: waleh ia divided Into saaees ot three- laeaear km ia a piece of ivory whiea wejefes 38 aoaaea, aad heee are 5 peaaaa of sugar.; With thee three arlMH. Icanwei;b2lDoendsof dates." TtJcroMiuiittie Yankee piereed the ysidstfek ttueafki ter aad sasaeaaed It like a scale iNMaa." 1 bang, the ivory from one of tha-aMck Kwvv -ittS? W& ' wt v ISk2iL efB9M , IVH. ia the Awatte r of the scale, the sugar frees aamhar aaaitae dates from a third, and. was fbaa sMe ttaiaeea rateyweigh2L pounds of dates. ihr:'' " How were the three artieies j apiae t yardstick! J. X.WmtmSsx.1 Jf t: ANSWBBfl. 'A" 7861. Loeesotive draws ears i hais Jrea track B to turntable. .2, Qaartertaraef tera tablcand locomotive paehes ease-4 aaa'SSs trace A. s. vtoaner tara or loiaeaiis, sad locomotive draws cars 8 aad ZfsaaMMkBtt'' turntable. 4. Half tara of tarsrts-aje, sea leee- motire rmeoapies iros ears a ami 7 on trade X) atooe. &. Batf turntable, and looeajotiye 7 aad 8 to traek B, aim tsrss aloae to turn taaie. a. i tara table, aad loeoawMre draw i irom axon, u to tara taste, ivi torn table, aad looOHKOare rana i D. 8. Half turn of tarn table, aari poshes ears o and e to traee b la 1 anu o. v. vtoaroer tara u tara 1 motive dt&ws ears ana I to Quarter tara of tara tawt, t tans alone to traek JO. U. JSa table, aad leeeaotiTe paehee kuck a ib inn. o& can a, e, f s ter turn ox sera taMftaaa la cars 2 and 1 to tarn table. XSL i tarn table, aad toeoatatrre rasa 1. 1C Half tara of tara taaie. train Is bow areaealr fnrautt ea couple aad ras ia the aireeMoa C aha' anew along treat D. . , 7St JeweL JJav-ewa-aiLl .. -- 788- ' " t N A T ' T A f- v rf it e W. S X X. 0iTJ A N I A V i a t -, L x t x X ' tii 788 Pet-a-teat- TM-Warter-ealasstet; FlJafctag.iB. , Tee kxzirX'AiivB T EST A'JCXKT AI.A.M a ba LXfts Af iiltri- ..-t, - -v-1'fVA..KiES.X A V -A V i ' ' V-aTasTeneaXaaarar sat - J ' rja ilitwm ataiftlf- pashas -afa03 ? M IbattKA tlmaii TiSllllatill 8Saf MSa." RBBBBBBBM te3seK. TaSBKBl Otaaaaaaaaaaaar k iStl fVlejMrs S i-aawtr a jR BnBiiiK -?"""b"K -iCTKp SJS iSBK.wS& V.'j-i. -kSK ! vx . .. " J'l$!k'.jLiit&Lkii.