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? OB,? The Heiress of Lawrence Park. A START OF ABS0RBIS6 QfTEREST. BT MRS. E. B. COLIONg. j ? ??? A CHAPTER TL AN A1VPUL OHABGE. Arthur Wynne stood beside that still, dead form in the library at Lawrence Park. The chief of the detective police foroe stood near, viewing the scene with comprehensive gaze, noting every little detail which, slight and of no apparent value, might yet hold the very key to I the strange tragedy. "A mysterious affair P Chief Ludlowe [ exclaimed, at length. "A dark mystery, indeed I Ah!" (turning swiftly) "is that you, "Wynne ? Bight glad to see you." Apd he shook the young man's hand. "Sorry that you have left the force, Mr. Wynne," he went on slowly. "I had always great confidence in your abilities, you remember. I really regretted your accession to fortune, since it made you resign, and?what! you wish to be engaged in this case? Why, I thought that since you came into yonr uncle's fortune you would be above the old jcalling, and forget old associations. I'm heartily giaa tnat l am mistaken, and I welcome you back to the force once more. Here is a badge; put it on, for you may need it. Ah, that is right." Arthur Wayne pinned the silver badge upon his breast, and covered it from view with the lapel of his coat. "Andnow let us see," Chief Ludlowe went on, in a confidential tone. "This is the case precisely: A murder?mysterious to th6 last degree?has been committed in our midst. A wealthy _ and influential citizen has been stricken down in cold blood in his library at the dead of night, or rather the early snorning," the Chief added, with a swift glance at the clock, pointing grimly to half-past two. "Yet no outcry was made?no noise heard. The murderer even waited after his bloody work was done to withdraw the weapon from the fatal wound. There musi have been a terrible struggle," he went on, comprehensively, "for the dock was thrown from the mantel, a chair overturned, and the furniture in general disordered. fha vorv funk nf thfl clock hav ing stopped at the hour when that | struggle for life took place, may provd a formidable clew to the deed. WynneJ ' "why are yotr smiling ? Have you mad a any discovery that has escaped me ?" Arthur "Wynne bit his lip. "If they "will permit us to remain in this room for a few moments alone," ha j whispered, "I will show you something. ' ( The room was cleared, and the dool j Sclosed; then Arthur lifted the clock (from the floor and placed it upon the tmanteL "Half-past two!" he said, slowly. ["Now, Mr. Ludlowe, I am going to try ?n experiment." He opened the crystal door which covered the face of the clock, and with fewift, deft touch moved the minute ' hand half an hour ahead, to the strik- I * ing point. , j On?. two. three, four. five. six. seven. eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve! pealed I oot ttpoa the awful silence of the room. ! Chief Ludlowe started as though he had been struck. "Great heavens! Wynne, what does this mean?" he panted.* "It means that it was not half past .two when the deed was committed!" Arthur Wynne said gravely. "I have read of such a case as this, and so determined to make the test; Mr. Lawrence came to his death before the hour of midnight, at least the evident struggle took place before then, and the clock was set ahead to mislead, I suppose. After you have carefully examined this room, you will find that nothing has been stolen or disturbed. M*v Lawrence wore a diamond stud and a valuable diamond ring; they have not been removed. "In his pocket I find a purse containing two hundred dollars. The iron iBafe yonder, in which he doubtless stored valuables and papers, has not been opened. In short, there is no indication of robbery V "The deed must have been done for Borne ulterior object, perhaps revenge!" observed Ludlowe; "but Wynne, in the name of Heaven, what is this peculiaz odor? Very faint, but palpable. It smells like bitter almonds. It is " rrussic auiu, Bumewututj: rniei* rupted the young man excitedly. "It is, oh my God! Mr. Ludlowe?Providence has thrown in my way a strange revelation! I have found out some* thing at this very moment, which may yet?listen 1" He came to a halt at the sound oi carriage wheels tearing up the avenue without; the same carriage whioh Mrs. Chillingworth had heard and marveled over. Before the two detectives could mtter another word there was the sound of hasty footsteps in the hall; the library door was thrown open as if by magio, and a woman in deep black rushed over the threshold into tne room, uttering a maddened shriek of horror. Following in her wake was a police officer. From the top of the lonxr siaircnoo xtcsS. unuiLngwori/U marked tne scene, and hastened back to Ruby'i side. She was trying to steady her nerves, trying to overcome the vague horror which had fallen upon her since the discovery of those blood-stained garments in "Ruby's room. Hjj "Ruby! There is more mystery nere!" M she cried, excitedly. "Ii you are able, you had better go below stairs." WB Pale, and trembling -violently, Ruby ma Lawrence made her way down the BUf stairs to the library. As she entered the room the strange woman fell upon [ her knees beside the body, with an exM ceedinor bi<*?r o'-v . "now aaae your" he demanded, [harshly. "Woman, you are mad! Who are you, and what do you mean by H ithose strange words?" KB ' Gabrielle St. Cyr stood erect before GH (him, gazing into his white face, with eyes full of defiance. : "Who am I?" she repeated, bleakly. H ? "Oh, Gilbert! My husband I Mf S[ husband!" wailed Gabrielle St. Cyr. W "Dead! Stricken down by the hand of B black-hearted wretch, who seeks to KM (profit by your death?who would rob the widow and orphan, and commit BB this awful crime, for the sake of gold, and to avenge a fancied wrong! Keep H hack!" she shrieked, wildly, as Ruby H crept into the room. Dale as a broken ,, lily, and trembling like a leal. *jo not dare to desecrate his body with your unhallowed presence." ! Arthur Wynne strode forward and confronted Gabrielle,with white,wrathful face and blazing eyes. "That is soon toll! x am miDerc .Lawrence's wedded wife, and the mother of his child! It was a secret marriage; but he was about to acknowledge it when she" (she wheeled about, and pointed toward Ruby) "in her jealou* rage and fury, did the awful deed for which she must now suffer! "Yes, gentlemen, I am Gilbert Lawrence's wife; 1 have an requisite proof; and my daughter is his lawful child and heir, while that girl vonder is " "Hold!" Arthur "Wynne sprang forward, and clutched Gabrielle's arm in a vise-like grip. "Dare to breathe such foul aspersions here, in the presence of this dead ! body," he thundered, "ana j. win take your miserable life! How dare you speak such, words of her, such?vile? words?" She wrenched her arm from his grasp, and glared into his face like a wild creature at bar. '"1 assert nothing that 1 cannot f>rove!" she hissed, malignantly. "Only ast night that girl there, who calls herself Gilbert Lawrence's daughter, discovered the truth; learned her father's story of a hidden sin, and how he had wronged her. She was half mad at the knowledge; perchance it turned her brain, murder has beei.- done I many a time before, for less cause, and so" (she wheeled about, with a tragic gesture) "gentlemen, I, Gilbert La wrence's -widow, do make this charge* Ruby Lawrence murdered her own-, father! Officer, I demand her arrest!" CHAPTER TIL MAGGIE WTLLETT TELLS HEB STORY. "Down over that sumntuous room. with its ghastly spectacle, the shadow of death fell like a darksome pall. Who could speak?who could find words to utter at such a time, in the face of this unlooked for, awful accusation? Utterly overcome with horror and wordless indignation, Arthur Wynne stood glaring into the pale, triumphant face of his accuser. Stunned and bewildered, poor Ruby did not realize the full force of the charge?did not, could not comprehend the situation. She was kneeling at her father's side, her wide open eyes full of blank horror, riveted upon the white, still face before her, while one cold hand smoothed the hair gently back from his marble brow. Mr. Ludlowe was the first to break the awful, deathlike silence of the room. "This is a remarkable, a fearful accuzation, madam!" the Chief of Police began, his inscrutable eyes upon Gabrielle's impassive face. "Let us hope that you do not fully comprehend the importance of the charge that you have brought against this young lady. It is " ?*? - i Ti. ?. i>t "At IS monstrous 1 AD IS UUIHUIC . thundered Arthur Wynne, darting forward, pale to the very lips. "An awful charge to be preferred against an innocent, guileless girl! "But I assure you, madam," he went on, trying hard to speak calmly, "that it wili take more than your simple assertion to turn suspicion of ?o dreadful a ciime upon a lady in Miss Lawrence's position! "Officer!" turning to the officer, who stood eagerly watching the strange scene?"this woman is mad. I demand her arrest; the oity authorities will take charge of her; she is a dangerous lunatic!" "Aye; but there is method in my madness, Arthur "Wynne!" cried Gabrielle, mockingly, surveying him with a sweeping bow. Then, checking herself at his glance of surprise: "I have heard of you, you see, and I have heard no good of you! You wish proof of the truth of my assertion?aa though any one would bring such a charge 'without proof! You shall have it! Listen I "Yesterday I saw Gilbert Lawrence and demanded to be acknowledged as his wife, and that my daughter be placed in her proper position, as Ins legitimate child. "He woxild not consent, because of his foolish affection for that girl yonder (the little serpent), to give my child and myself the rightful position in the eyes of the world, while he lived; but he agreed to arrange our affairs so that we would have our rights when he was dead. "You see that sheet of paper upon the table yonder?the last words his hands ever traced?what is written thereon ? " 'Gabrielle, I have made my will in favor of ' "And that is all! Gentlemen, he was * ' * i e j about to say, ' in xavor 01 yoursen t*uu cliild!' The will was made?I have no doubt of that! Gentlemen, I demand to see it!" Chief Ludlow? looked grave. "There has been no will found," he returned, slowly. "Yonder paper is all." She smiled, sardonically. "I know it; I was prepared for that!" she cried, eagerly. "The will is missing, and why? Because it has baen destroyed by Buby Lawrence, that white-faced, cringing little hvpocrite yonder. Now. sirs, I Will tell my story, ana at any time will repeat it under oath. "Last night, after Miss Buby Lawrence had returned from the theater, hor father summoned her into the library, where he had spent the entire evening. How do I know ? For the best of reasons. I was there myself!" There was a low murmur of astonishment from the lips of the Chief of Police. Gabrielle continued: "I called here last evening, shortly aftor dark. Gilbert Lawrence himself admitted me; therefore the servants | are not cognizant ot tne visii. ne i I begged like a dog to be forgiven for j the wrong that ho had done me, and I agreed to make liia will in my favor at once; an oleographic will, which would preclude the necessity of calling in a lawyer, and making the affair known to a third party. "That will was to have been placed in my possession this morning, but, instead, I was horrified to hear of this awful tragedy, and I hastened here to tell all, and denounce the murderess yonder! 1 "As I have already said," continued Gabrielle, with a comprehensive glance around the room?"that girl, Euby Lawrence, entered the library after her return from the. theater last night, and / -* V .V-. was closeted"witn "lier latiier lor several hours. "Ah, be sure I can prove my words! There is a woman employed here as a housemaid, named Maggie Willott. Call her, and ask her a few questions. If I am not mistaken, you will have cause for surprise!" "Yes," interrupted Arthur Wynne, quietly; "let the household be summoned. No allegation of a common hireling can affect Che spotless name of Ruby Lawrence." Five minutes later, Maggie Willett was in the room. A dark-browed, sullen-looking young woman, who cast a turtlve glance aOoufc Her before sue commenced to speak, in a low, hesitating tone: "You-wish to sneak with me. sir?" she began, glancing boldly into the stern face of Arthur Wynne. "You will repeat to these gentlemen ill that you told me this morning, Maggie," said Gabrielle St. Oyr, authoritatively. The girl hung her head. "Very well," she answered, with apparent reluctance. "You see, sir" (glancing onco more into Arthur's face), "I was bad off with the toothache last night, so bad that I couldn't sleep, no how. I suffered awfully ; j. wouldn't "bear the pain, anil aS last, toward morning, I got ut>. "I said to myself, 41 guess Til go to Miss Ruby's room, and beg for a little laudanum to quiet me, and send me ofl to Bleep and rest a bit.' So I got out of bed and put on a wrapper and slippers, and threw a shawl about me, and went down Btairs softly, so I wouldn't wake any one in front of the house, to Miss Ruby's room. "My room is in the third story,where all the servants are; Miss Ruby's is in the second story. When I got there I turned the handle softly and opened the door. "The room was empty; the gas wai burning; the fire was low; the bed hoc not been slept in, and Miss Ruby wnl hot there. "I didn't know what to think. But, after all, it was none of my business? so I hurried out of the room, and just as I got on the landing outside, I heard a clock, somewiiere in the nouse, struts two; and at that very minute, a door below stairs opened soft and slow-like.' "I stopped short; I thought 'twas burglars, you see; but just then I heard a voice below speak sharp, and quick, and angry like. " 'It's no use making trouble, Ruby,' said the voice?and then I knew 'twas Mr. Lawrence himself?'for I can't help what is past and gone. I've told you that I'm sorry, and that 111 make it up to you all I can.' But Miss Ruby spoke ap like a mad woman. " 'You're worse than a murderer I* she said, 'I will have that paper, or I will take your life!' I stood at the top of the stairs, gentlemen, so afraid that I could scarcely tell whether I waa dead or alive. Mr. Lawrence then said something quick and savage; tney stepped back into the room and closed the door, and for a minute all was stilL Then I heard an awful noise; something fell to the ground; there was the sound of a struggle. ' I knew it, but I was that afraid that I couldn't move or ?" "I'wao nurFnl air t.n ho for.A to face, as one might say, to a scene j like that, but how could I know that 'twas murder ? "I got my courage back at last. I must go down and see what had happened ; perhaps prevent a crime from being committed; for you see, I thought all the time that Mr. Lawrence had attacked Miss Buby. I crept half way down the stairs, when just thei*, gentlemen, Miss Buby came out of the library alone. "I stood upon the stairs just yonder and watched her. She was wbite as a ghost, her hair all down her back; and as she came into the hall she slipped something into her pocket, and then she locked the library door on the outside and dropped the key into her pocket, too. "For just a moment I stood there watching her; then an awful fear crept\ over me. I said to myself, it can't bel anything serious! How could a bit of a girl like that do any harm to a strong, man like Mr. Lawrence ? So I slipped; back upstairs to my own room, andlocked myself in and laid down on the. bed till morning. When I got back to ?- ?- ? ???* wam n A* 4A rvva Ill J luuiu iu vr ao a ijuuiici iu vu&vw , cisely by the clock on the man^l. "This morning I arose early and hurried around to a dentist to have my, tooth out After it -was extracted and I on my way back, I met the madamef yonder. I'd seen her several times already. She used to come about this place to see the master. Something seemed to make me stop and tell her .what had happened. So I just told ^ier the whole story; and "while we. stood talking, one of the servants herecame rushing by on his way for a doctor, and he told us that the master was dead. And now, sirs, you know alL I have no more to say 1" The story had been told in a monotonous tone, like one who repeats a lesson learned by rote. During its recital Arthur Wynne had been standing, pale and agonized, his eyes dilated with! horror, his cold bands clenching and unclenching each other convulsively; a look upon his face that boded ill to some one. When the story was finished, he stepped forward and gazed full into Maggie Willett's stolid face. ''You had your tooth extracted," he began, witn apparent irrelevancy; "what dentist did you visit?" The girl started, and her eyes sought the floor, hesitating palpably. Then a swift upward glance, and her eyes met noKi?Jann Rf. rixn^o fnr tlift looaf. maoi. V-A UVilUUU K-?V. A. U AW* ?MW AVMW* ^v/UUft ble space. Was it Arthur Wynne's imagination, or did he observe a slight sign of recognition pass between the two? "What dentist ?" he repeated, sternly. "Dr. Franklin," replied the girl; "he ?he?extracted tiio tooth!" "Your story is told," said Arthur Wynne, gravely. "You mav go." As the door closed behind Maggie Willett, the officer who had acoompaniid (iabrielle to Lawrcnce Park, stepped to IiubV'B side, and laid hia nand upon the shoulder ot tJie kneeling girl. "I arrest you in the name of the law!" he was beginning, but Arthur Wynne sprang upon him like a tiger. "Never 1" he thundered. "Dare to touch that innocent girl, and I -wrill shake the life from your body!" "Officer," interposed Gabrielle, commandingly, "I demand that girl's arrest 1" "Arrest her?at your peril!" cried Arthur Wynne madly. "This foul charge is monstrous?horrible 1 I will not submit to it." Gabrielle's large dark eyes were lifted to his wrathful face with a long, slow look. "You 1" she sneered. "You speak m ! one having authority.! What right ' nave you to interlere in Uiis matter, sir?" For answer, he tuinod down the tapel of his coat with a hasty gesture, which revealed the glittering silver badge upon his breast. Gabrielle fell back with a low cry. "I?I never dreamed it!" she muttered under her breath, too low for any jne to hear. "He must not recognize me, or know that I am Adele's mother. He must not connect me in any way tnth the ballet dancer of the Odeon Theater, or all is lost!" Arthur Wynne stood gazing into hor face with perplexed wonder. It had just occurred to him that that face was familiar. "Where have I met you?" he was beginning, imperiously, but Gabrielle shook her head. "I have never seen you in my life before to-day," she answered slowly, [TO BE CONTINUED.] Use of Palms. In order to be able to appreciate how much the native tribes of the countries where palms most abound are dependent upon this noble family of plants, and how they take part in some form or other in every action of the native's life, we must enter his hut and inquire into the origin and structure of the various articles we see around us. Suppose we visit an Indian cottage on the banks of the Rio Negro, in South America. The main supports of the building are the trunks of some forest tree of durable wood, but the light rafters are formed of the straight stems of the jara palm. The roof is thatched with large, triangular leaves, and bcund to tha roof with forest creepers. The leaves are those of the carana palm. The door of th 3 house is a framework made of the stems of the pashinba palm. In one corner stands a harpoon for capturing the cow-fish; it is made of the black wood of the pashinba palm. Beside it is a blow pipe ten 01 twelve feet long, for shooting birds or even the wild hog or tapir; it is made from the stem of one of two species oi palms. The Indians' large bassoon-like musical instruments are made of palm stems; the cloth in which he wraps hia valued feather ornaments is a fibrous palm spathe, and the rude chest in which he keeps his treasures is woven from palm leaves. His hammock, bow-string, and fishing line are from the fibres of leaves which he obtains from different palm trees, the hammock from the miviti, and the bow-string and fishing-line from the tucum. The comb that he wears on his head is ingeniously constructed from the hard bark of a palm, and he makes fisa hook* of the spines, or uses them for tatooing purposes. His children are eating the agreeable red and yellow fruit of the pupunba or peach palm; and from the assai he has prepared a favorite drink which he offers you to taste. That carefully suspended gourd contains oil which he has extracted from another species of palm; and that long elastic plaited cylinder used for squeezing dry the mandrocea pulp to make his bread is made of the bark of one of the singular climbing palms, which alone can resist for a considerable time the actoin of the poisonous juice. In fact, there seems no end to the economical purposes to which the-products of palms are applied in the countries where they grow.?Scientific American. Ocean Treasure Trove. The wreck of the English bark Midway, which foundered in 1853 w.Mle bound from London to Philadelphia with a cargo of tin, lead and spelter, worth over $150,000, has been located by the Atlantic* and Gulf Wrecking Company, off Cape Henlopen. The schooner J. Howard Magee has landed at a Philadelphia wharf a consignment of various metals from the Midway's cargo, which, has been brought to the surface by divers, and although corroded by the action of Bait water the entire consignment was sold at the highest market rates. The discovery of the sunken wreck and her valuable cargo was made accidentally by divers of the wreckage company. The divers were searching for the wreck of a schooner recently lost on the Hen and Chickens shoals. While on the bottom looking for the schooner the divers saw glittering heaps of metal that looked like great bars of silver. They were, in fact, the pigs of tin forming part of the cargo of the long lost Midway. These pigs of tin owing to a peculiar condition of the metal, were as bright as they were on the day the bark went down. The wrecking company at once decided to abandon its search for the sunken schooner and look out for the more valuable prize. Only about 100 tons were in the first consignment, but there are hundreds of tons left, worth a large fortune, probably $150,000 which will be recovered. The Midway's cargo was consigned to Penrose & Burton, old time Philadelphia ship brokers, who are long since dead and have passed out of the public view.?New. York Mm,. Blind Fish. Professor Kay Lankester accounts for the absence of eyes in the fishes in the famous underground Kentucky caves in the following way: A great flood carries to the Kentucky caves, some thirty miles below tho surface, a number of fish, among whose numerous offspring will be some defective in sight, as some babies are born blind, or without eyes at a'l. The fish who can see some faint glimmerings of light will swim away toward that light, while those will remain that cannot perceive the gleams. This with every succeeding generation wo'ild occur, the stronger in sight swimming away and the weaker remaining, and as the breeding would therefore occur between those of the worst sight, fish would be born with weaker eyes and weaker until born blind. The Professor also accounted for tho white patch on rabbits' tails. He exflint no T-nKhitc nra OTP rrfiri <1113 |jmiuv,u vuuv ? O-'O animals, signaling is of great advantage to them, and that the white patch so conspicuous against the darker fur of the rest of the body is of use as * signal. Hares, on the other hand, being solitary animals, do not stL' d inueed of a signal. Hence, the tail of the hare is not conspicuous id its color.?Scientific American. Primitive "Dentistry. Old Uncle Hugh Johnson, of the Copper Creek neighborhood, the man who fastened securely a twine string around three teeth of his lower jaw, and then, tieing the other to an ash-hopper, jumped up and threw himself backward with such force as to extricate the entire lowei jaw, simply to rid himself of toothache, is yet alive, and was here the other day, looking after a lawsuit he has against ont of his neighbors.?ifoun* Vernon (Ky.\ Siff>ial ; ' '.v \y.i- - ' * ' / . 'long mm. LIFE ALONG NEW JERSEY'S WAVE-WASHED SHORE. Happy Summer Days for Young and Old Who Love to Dance, to Drive, to Bathe or Do a Little Flirting. All along the New Jersey coast, from Sat.dy Hook to Poiijt Pleasant, pleasure 1 reigns supreme. Every day the beach is ' dotted with bathers, the cottage and ho- j +ol lonmc tmorm wit.Vi tannin nlftVPTS and : Wi l?n? ~ C J i the roads are marked by lines of dust! kicked up by horses worth all the wav ' from fifty to thousands of dollars. There are far more of the latter, however, than of the former, for the wealthy summer visitor generally brings his "turnout" with him, but it is an open question whether he enjoys the glorious drive j along the shore any more than the occa- | sional Jersey farmer who comes in with ! his com fed team and "democrat wagon" to see "them stylish rigs." THE BOSS BATHER. Every night the hotel piazzas are the centre of life until about half-past ten o'clock, when the music ceases and the mothers and younger children go to bed. The older children then gst a chance to watch the sea from the summer houses and whisper away as if they had*not seen each other for years. Papa, alas! quite frequently strolls around to study the habits of that unconquerable animal, the tiger. The nightly display of dress in the hotel parlors at Long Branch is magnificent. There are more finely formed, beautiful and exquisitely adorned women here now than ever before. No wonder the young men are losing their heads, and the first crop of engagements is announced. The average young lady here, while a far more shapely being than a cheap wood cut artist design, and as lively a maiden as. one would wish to see, is a modest, weH- Jbehaved girl in the water and out of it. The girls love the waves. They 4 'go in" "by the hundreds, and the bathing masters tell me they learn to swim easier and bett'erthan men. One of the sights "ofthe Branch during bathing hours is the "Boss bather," as the children disrepectfully term her. If she is not fair and forty, she is certainly the other thing, for a ninety inch belt could not make both ends meet -around her waist. Every chance she gets to take a roll in the sea she improves, so that in all respects she is a great bather. "While watching this fleshy nymph of the sea tumbling about in the water, I noticed .that several ladies in bathing wore their diamond earrings. They said they felt that the jewels were safer in their ears than anywhere else, but it is a queer combination, a bathing suit and diamonds.' After her bath the Long Branch girl takes a drive. So does everybody else if they can afford it. There are a number of carriages out in the morning before the day grows hot, but the "passing show," as seen from the West-End piazza in the cool of the afternoon, is one of the features of Long Branch life. The dull clatter of the horses, many of them thoroughbreds, the gingling of their CU 211113, tUC gllLtCl Ui UXV/U VMV | roll of the carriages, filled with elegantly attired women, makes pleasant music as the panorama moves along the bluff. It is indeed a pretty picture, this daily display of beauty on wheels. The moving line is flanked by beautiful lawns; it runs between imposing hotels and cottages. All is color and animation in the foreground, whitebehind lies the ocean, calm REPAIRING THE BLUFF. and dull under a cloudless summer sky stretching away as far as the eye can reach, and dotted here and there by white wings that seem to have been painted on canvas, so well defined but motionless do they appear. The Ocean Drive, the glory of the Branch, was badly damaged last winter by the sea. It hardly seems possible that the water could get over the bluff, which is fully thirty feet high,but it did, and in places took the bluff away with it. The roadway ran close to the edge, so that in spots it was ruined. A United States engineer says he will Dut down bulkheads every 200 feet from the Iron Pier to Elberon and guarantee that the beach will make instead of lose. That will cost a great deal of money, but it seems to be the last chance to have the valuable hotel property facing on the ocean,to say nothing of the driveway and the bathing facliities, without which the hotels would not be able to compete with Eastern summer resorts. The big break begin8 at the east end of the Howland House. It is about 500 feet long. To get around it the stages have to run about 300 feet inland on a poor road, which is unpleasant and delays one. There is a force of men at work with a pile driver, building up the bluff again, and their labors are watched daily by hundreds of people. It is one of the sights of the beach. This hole in Ocean avenue ia a sore trial to the hundreds to whom Loug Branch was a delightful place to bring their horses. It is still, however, an agreeable drive from Seabright to Elberon, and even further up and down the coast. The Long Branch stage is one of the most inconvenient vehicles on earth, but it is cheap and therefore popular with the masses. There are hundreds of these stages running back and forth from the Iron Pier to the West End all day and nearly all night. The fare is only ten cents for the whole distance, but like the New York UL" roads, a short ride costa . '0^ v'"^ a ' 'f'.''. just as much as a long one. I overheard a young man arguing with a hackman the j other day ahout his bill. The price seemed a little steep until the hackman explained why he charged so much. 4'My carriages all come from New York," said he, "and before I can run them I have to pay $17 for a license foi each one. This is the tax paid to the town for three months' business. In New York we can get a license for a year for $2. Besides this I have to pay the hotel I serve $2750 a season for the privilege of answering its calls. I tell you there is very little money in hacking in Long Branch." The hackman depends largely on the custom of transient visitors. Nearly all of the permanent guests at the hotels and the cottages bring their own equipages. I noticed the other day on the avenne quite a number of well-known neonW? hfihind their own hnrses. Not to mention the Baroness Blanc when writing about the driving on the avenue would be leaving out one of the best known whips at the Branch. The Baroness is an expert in managing horses either from the box or in the saddle. For years hers ha3 been a familiar figure, mounted on a spirited steed and whizzing along at a rate that would make almost any other woman faint to think of. This season, however, the Baroness docs not appear on horseback. She drives a span of sorrels to a stylish victoria in the afternoon, but it is in the morning that she appears in the little yellow buckboard that is so familiar to people at the Branch. While the wealthy arc enjoying themselves in their carriages the less fortunate find plenty of amusement at the hotels and cottages. Long Branch will never be a second Coney Island. It is too far from New York, and the necessarily high rates of transportation keep away to a great extent the crowds that make West Brighton so lively. Yet the building of th& iron pier has encouraged the Sunday pleasure-seeker to come, and has made that end of the Branch a little like the popular Long Island resort. The sausage man can be seen now and then near the pier, the carrousel is there, and while it is quiet enough week days it is the liveliest spot for miles about at night and on Sundays. It is a remarkable thing that one seldom sees a drunken man. This is true of the whole region. The policemen tell me that the crowds are remarkably well behaved and that arrests are seldom made. I BAR0KE3S BLANC'S BUCKBOABD. Just as soon as the evening iaiis visitors from all along the beach flock to the West End Hotel to join in the dancing or to watch the children dance. This is a pretty sight. The picture of the brilliantly lighted room with happy little tots circling about to the music is a familial one to any one who has spent an evening "at the Branch. The broad piazza outside is crowded with onlookers in evening dress, while proud fathers , and mothers gaze fondly at the merry little ones. It is . on the piazza, while the soft music floats out from the parlor, that Cupid binds his victims. It is there that the young men, gathering courage perhaps in the uncertain light, talk theii sweetest, and the girls, who are there foi that purpose, look their prettiest and listen. So far there have been only three engagements whispered to confidential friends, but from the prospects the net result of the season will be many times three. J No such nonsense as lovemaking j bothers the children, who seem never- i - * i xl.. theless to have the best time at me acoside. They romp from morning tc night. The beach is their favorite spot, and high times they have there. Not a few lads and quite a number of girls ol tender years are good swimmers aud frighten their nurses twenty times a da} by darting away from the life lines. Just now baseball is enjoying the attention ol I the boys. I noticed a youngster hardlj ! as high as the table playing billiards one day, and he made runs of eight and ten quite frequently. Another little fellow spends his time in the Ocean House bowling alley. He disdains a small ball, and always picks out the largest he can find to roll at the pins. A YOUTHFUL BOWLER. After the lovelorn maidens and the romiiinsr children have retired, the gen tlemen disappear from the hotels. They steer for one or two high rings of lights that seen to hang in the air, so high arc they above all else at Long Branch. Beneath the domes wherein these lights are hung are spacious circular rcjms extravagantly furnished and beautiful to look upon. Sometimes it is expensive to look upon them -when the ball goes round, for they are gambling rooms. The rooms are attractive and are visited nightly by hundreds of men, not all of whom are by any means professional gamblers. They are the centers of life after ten o'clock, and remain so until the circles of light above them pale in the growing morn. The frequenters are mostly busiaess men, who never enter a gambling house in the city, but who feel a little wicked when away for the summer. They seldom play beyond a certain limit, although now and then one loses his head and consequently his cash in an attempt to break the bank. A very generous and well served supper is provided every night and it is quite the thing, even for men who don't gamble to drop in about that hour to lounge about and watch the play. "Women when they go the seashore do not leave their curiosity at home. v." 'J. - - f. - v.", . .; r ' iwS Even the most demure would give morrf ! than her old gloves just to Be* the inside 1 of one of those wicked places.?New York Herald. A Painting That Cost $110,000 Com* lug to America. The American public, says the Chicago Herald, will soon have the pleasure of , seeing a masterpiece of modern art. Jean . Francois Millet's wonderful painting, "The Angelus," for the possession of ffj which much desperate effort was madeon behalf of the French Government, has V v, been secured by the American Art Association, and will be exhibited through- 2 < out this country. At the Secretan sale in v Paris, Monday, July 1, M. Proust, who bid the Government, offered $110,600 for the painting, and it was knocked down v to him as the representative of the Louvre. * The fact appeared that Mr. Proust did not have anything like the amount he offered, and when Challonier, the auctioneer, asked for the money it was not : AN 0UTLE7E OF THE "ASGELUS." forthcoming. The men who in Gallic exaltation, when the picture was put on ' r, sale the second time, subscribed hundreds of thousands of francs, were not to be found. 7 Challonier then sent for Mr. Sutton, of y the American Art Association, and asked . m j him to take the picture at his bid . of : $110,400. Sutton had advertised bis ! willingness to give $10,000 to the poor of Paris if allowed to take the "Angelus'r at the figure at which it was bid off for the Louvre, and his delight knew no '. bounds when told of the new turn of affairs. Before he could get to Challonier with a certified cheek high officers of the Government had induced the auctioneer '* to wait until 9 o'clock a. m. of July 4, and in the meantime Baron Rothschild had been induced to give his check for the entire amount on behalf of the Gov- 4 eminent. Believing he had no further . show to buy the picture, Mr. Sutton decided to apply to the French Government for permission to exhibit the picture in New York next autumn, and, as an inducement intended to offer to make over half the proceeds to Millet's widow, who is now living in extreme poverty in Bar- v| bizon. However, the cables announced that M. Proust had written a letter in which he announced the withdrawal of the request of the Chamber of Deputies for a credit for the purchase of the painting. The cable also announced that Mr. Sutton had secured the famous painting, < which will be exhibited in the American Art Gallery in New York after it has been ' j shown in Paris for the benefit of the painter's widow. Jean Francois Millet, the "painter of ^ ? ? < 4 -4 A _ !j peasants," was bornuctoDer j.*, aox*, iu ~i the village of Gruchy, commune of Greville, canton of Beaumont (Manche), France. With the exception of his last years, when his genius had been recognized and he received many orders for paintings, his life was one long struggle with sickness, disappointment and sorrow. He died January 20, 1875. So little were Millet's works esteemed during his lifetime that for the "Angelus," his greatest production, he received only 2000 francs, or $400. Of this masterpiece the artist, Richard Heath, writing in 1882, said: "The religious sentiment which pervaded Millet's paintings from the time he first began to follow his true vocation attains its highest expressions in the 'Angelus.' It is that moment of the day when the whole creation is one in adoration. The sun has just passed away, and the purple afterglow suffuses all things. A man and a woman have been digging up potatoes; the sound ?f the angelus floating through the air has just reached them; they hive risen and are repeating the traditional words: 'Angelub iomini muntiavit maria.' The man stands solemn and mo 'and McCrispin says that he is the youngest of a family of twenty-four children. I ~Vsvml* ATj&rsm H The Chinese Lanndryman Utilizes His I ?Texas Siflings. The Czar of Russia has suppressed the Lutheran Church in his domains. There were three years ago about three million members of this body in the Russiss,, j mnttlr in thp^BvUSr! nrnvinnm.