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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, August 20, 1871, Image 6

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•• a HOPE TO SEE YOU SUCH.”
By Iconise Malcom St eft toft.
I hope to see you soon, darlins !
Ah I I’ve missed your soft, sweet voice;
As the cold, dreary Winter days
Long for Summer, to rejoice !
It has been such a Ion?, long time
Since you spoke that magic word
That fused my spirit into thine,
And my inmost heart-chords st.ricd.
Words cannot tell my eager longing
Once more to nestle to thy side,
And gaze into thy azure eyes— *
Eyes evermore my joy and pride I
I have missed thy gentle greeting,
As wooing zephyrs miss the leaves
In Winter, when earth’s snowy shroud
Sheds bright tear-drops from the eaves I
My pen is powerless to write
A tithe of all my thronging thoughts,
Jn which thy beaming, genial face, __
Like siiver sheen, is deftly wrought.
I hope to see you soon, darling !
Once more to warmly clasp your hand,
And see again thy sunny smile,
Transforming earth to Fairy Land !
<janraij Storg.
VIVII JO II 11.
BY THE AUTEOn OF “ LAUBISMEBz’s SECBET,’
“HAUNTED,” ETC.
CHAPTER XVl.—(Continued.)
“ Certainlyand Tessa rose to exhibit them
to him, but still she kept to tho subject he was
anxious to evade.
‘•How long have you known Mrs. Annes
ley ?”
“ How long did you say 1 These cameos are
extremely curious! How long ? Mv memory
is rather treacherous. I can scarcely remem
ber the date of our first rencontre.”
“Are you intimate with Mrs. Annesley’s rel
atives ?” was her next inquiry.
“Not yet, but I hope to be ere long,” he
said, bowing to her. “I think myself very
fortunate to have been brought here. Colonel
Annesley has good reason to be proud of such
fair daughters 1” -
“Do you purposely misunderstand mo?’
cried Tessa, in a pet. “ I spoke of Mrs. Annes
ley’s relatives—not of papa's I”
“ I beg your pardon,” Lord Boslyne replied,
with an air of extreme penitence. “I had no
intention of offending you. It will never do
for mo to get iuto hot water with the demoi
selles io whose tender mercies the colonel
talks of consigning me. I might be punished
by being forbidden to talk—only fancy, what
ah infliction that, would be!—or put upon low
diet; gruel,for dinner, corn-flour for supper,
and occasional doges of soap and wator to keep
up my spirits !”
“ I fancy the greatest punishment your
nurses could inflict upon you would bo to com
pel you to speak the truth I” retorted Tessa,
Bow thoroughly provoked.
Lord Boslyne cast up his eyes.
“And I had been priding myself upon my
Veracity! lire not you too cruel ? I cannot
accuse myself of having given you any just
cause to call me a fibber. I really do think
those cameos genuine antiques, and I positive
ly understood you to speak of the charming
denizens of this house, when you inquired if I
was on terms of intimacy with any of Mrs. An
nesley’s relations,”
Tessa felt that any further discussion of the
subject would have an odd appearance, so she
forced a smile, and began speaking of some
thing else. But she was dissatisfied at the
way in winch Lord Boslyne had fenced with her
questions. Why had he reddened and seemed
embarrassed when she asked him if he had
known Vivien before her marriage?
Her doubts bad the effect of inducing her to
■Watch his lordship whenever he approached
tlio wife of bis hospitable entertainer. She
knew so well how fascinating Vivien could be
that ito amount of power she might have con
trived to gain over this hank youth could sur
prise her. But whether it was that Vivien
kept on her guard, or that she was fully occu
pied in hearing and answering the queries of
Mrs. Digby and Laura, her quiet demeanor
exhibited no signs of a deeper interest in Lord
Boslyne than she might naturally be expected
to feel in ono who had saved the life of her hus
band.
There was no evidence against her but his
lordship’s embarrased avowal that they had
met before ; but Tessa could not forget this.
Blie was brooding over it on the tollowing
morning, as she strode down a secluded path
in tho shrubbery, when she suddenly came
Upon the very persons who filled imr (noughts.
Vivien, in a morning dress ol gray oasiimere,
relieved with ribbons of the palest pink, was
Bitting on a rustic seat, her hands full of the
Autumn flowers sho had been gathering, and
Lord Boslyne, standing beside nor. was talk
ing so eagerly, that Tessa’s footsteps were in
audible.
“Do not be angry with mo when I tell you
thai. I have diaouoyed your ueheet," be was
Baying. “ I fear that lam a bad Land at keep
ing a secret; for, somehow, 1 have contrived
to make the admission that wo Lad met before
your marriage.”
“I am sorry,” said Vivien,” in low tones.
“You know that I would gla ly conceal from
every ono here all knowledge of that unfortun
ate affair.”
“1 am greatly to blame,” he answered, with
evident contrition. “I hope, however, that I
have not done any serious mischief. The ad
mission that we had encountered each other is
all I have to accuse myself of.”
“It cannot be helped,” said Vivien, collect
ing her flowers in order to return to tho house.
“ Only pray be moro careful in tho future, will
you ?”
“ I can scarcely expect you to put much faith
in my promises now,” the young man replied ;
“but I think you may trust me; and perhaps
Miss Tessa Annesley has already forgotten my
unlucky speech.”
Vivien started.
“Tessa! Was it to her you made this ad
mission 1 Ah ! then I fear—l greatly fear ”
But she said no more ; for now her eye fell
upon the advancing girl, and she stooped to
pickup some blossoms she had dropped, and
bide her crimsoning cheek.
The quietly cheerful manner with which Tes
sa heard and replied to Lord Roslyne’s morning
salutations reassured her. Encouraged to be
lieve that their conversation had not been over
heard, Vivien regained her tranquillity. But
she erred when she thought this. Every sylla
ble nad been distinctly audible to Tessa, who
now felt convinced that she saw in Lord Ros
lyno one of her step-mother’s former lovers.
Was Vivien, trying, in spite of her wifehood,
to draw him back to his allegiance ? Colonel
Annesley was evidently unconscious of the se
cret understanding that existed between them.
In the blindness of his trust, he not only per
mitted, but encouraged, the sojourn beneath
his roof of one with whom Vivien was already
holding secret meetings.
At first, Tessa had been very much disposed
to like their guest; and even now that sho be
lieved him to be either the weakest or the most
dishonorable of men, she found it difficult to
resist the infection of his gaiety. Beside, he
was thrown much into her society. His in
jured arm prevented him from joining in the
shooting excursions of Colonel Annesley and
the Baron Durski. Vivien found constant oc
cupation in the house, the village, and the
schools ; for she had taken up all the duties
pertaining to her position with dilligenco, and
ber leisure was devoted to her husband, who
adored her. Julia was immersed in prepara
tions for her nuptials, while Laura either went
to sit with Nurse Jennet, or took long solitary
rambles, and so it generally devolved upon
Tessa to entertain Lord Roslyne.
With this state of effairs’he was very well
contented, for he had been greatly struck with
her beauty and vivacity, and set himself carn
, estly to do away with that unfavorable impres
sion he was obliged to see that she had
imbibed. This was a difficult task, for Tessa
was as obstinate in her prejudices as she was
firm in her affections. But ho did not despair
of ultimately winning a return of thediking—to
call it by no warmer name—with which he re
garded her, though he carried on the siege
after a strange fashion. Sometimes teasing
her by the hour ; then professing such ludi
crous penitence, that she laughed in spite of
herself; sometimes combating all her pet foi
bles, until he made her angry, and then ag-
Sravating her with a semblance of an intense
read of the vengeance she would take upon
him.
“I detest you, Lord Roslyne!” stormed
Tessa, one day, with a stamp of her little foot,
when he had been plaguing her past all en
durance, “ I positively detest you 1”
“Do you say this seriously?” he inquired,
With aggravating incredulity.
“ Yes, sir, I do. I never disliked any one as
much as I do you ?”
“ When things come to the worst they begin
to mend,” said his lordship, sententious!}’.
“ Now you have reached Lie grand climax—the
fortissimo movement in our grand fantasia—
you must begin to descend the scale, and glide
gently into the sweetest of all the strains—the
render, dulcet pianissimo. lam beginning to
grow tired of war, aren’t you ? and longing for
those peaceful hours I foresee in the future ;
When we shall never argue, never contradict
Bach other, but, in sweetest—hem ! friendship,
Spend our pleasant hours 1” And here he
Blasped his hands in pretended raptures at the
picture he had drawn.
“Absurd!” cried Tessa. “Don’t you know
that there are some persons whom one can
never, never like ?”
“Are you insinuating that I am one of those
unhappy beings? Miserable me! Why is not
there a desert island somewhere handy, to
Which I can retire directly ? or why does not
some one invent some respectable method of
putting an end to one’s wretched existence ?”
But Tessa would not stav to hear any more.
Turning a deaf ear to his’declaration that he
was collapsing beneath the weight of her dis
pleasure, she hurried from the room, deter
mined to avoid him for the rest of tho morn
ing ; and, far want cf aught else to do, walked
io the town to match some wools for a run she
XMWJenjft. j
H'dturi in" hom*, after her long and irivigor
amg ramble, she was passing a cluster of cot
tages i.ot far from the lodge, when sho per
ceived a.-woman standing at the d. or of her
little dwelling parleying with a dusty, shabby
stranger.
Tho woman was answering some question
he bad put to her wnen Tessa, camo within
hearing.
“Yes, that’s the name—Annesley. Colonel
Annesley bought the park some years ago; but
this is the first time he ever corned to live
there.”
The stranger nodded.
“Now, tell me, my good dame, which way I
shad take to find the entrance of this park?”
While the woman was civilly directing him,
Tessa drew nearer. The foreign accent with
which he spoke had aroused her attention, ami
she was not satisfied until she had contrived to
obtain a glimpse of his face.
Sho recognized it instantly— the largo, hol
low eyes, the swarthy skin, the features which,
while retaining traces of good looks, were dis
figured by intemperance and evil passions. She
saw before her the shabby, effeminate foreigner
who was the bane of her step-mother’s life—
tbe enemy of her peace ; and she knew directly
that the fancied security m which Vivien had
been living was ended. This man bad played
the traitor, and, instead of exiling himself to
Australia, had come to seek his victim, and
perhaps to avenge himself for some fancied or
real injury.
CHAPTER XVII.
TESSA MAKES A FRESH DISCOVERY.
Before the man had time to bestow more
than one inquisitive stare into her agitated
lace, Tessa had hurried past him, and was
speeding toward home to warn Vivien of his
approach. But as she drew near the house,
the touch of pity that prompted this impulse
vanished, and she began to loiter and ask her
self whether it would not be wiser to stand
aloof, and let the meeting take place. Would
it not be better to let Vivien betray herself,
than permit her, with snake-like craft, to coil
herself round the heart of her noble husband,
till the discovery of her falseness would be
more than he could endure ?
Finally, tormented with conflicting feelings,
she made her way to a rustic temple in the
plantations surrounding the demesne, and
there seated herself on the ground, with her
aching head on her hands.
“I will stay here,”'she said, to herself, “un
til the interview is over. It maddens me to
know that she deceives papa. .Yet, to be the
author of ber ruin, or to witness her degrada
tion, pains me moro than I can express. Why,
oh, why can I not love and respect her as I
used to do ?”
One, two hours elapsed, and still Tessa sat
there. She was growing nervous.y anxious to
know what had happened when the shabby
foreigner made' his appearance at the house ;
yet her sorrowful regret for tho misery that
must ensue from his revelations still held her
back. At last her seclusion was invaded by
Lord Roslyne, who, heated with haste, was hur
rying by, when he caught a glimpse of her
light skirts, and paused.
He was about to rally her in a laughing
strain upon having hid herself so long, when
he saw traces of tears upon her cheeks, and his
tone changed.
“ How lovely the day has been I lam afraid
we shall both bo rated as truants for staying
out so long. I see by my watch that the first
dinner boll must have rung. Are you going
home ? Will you take my arm ?”
One searching glance Tessa directed to his
flushed countenance. She guessed that he had
been out in search of her, but she learned no
moro from his looks. Either he knew nothing
of what had been transpiring with regard to
the foreigner, or else he was too delicate to tes
tify any acquaintance with the family affairs of
bis host.
She suffered him to draw her arm through
his, and very silently walked beside him until
she reached the house. Quivering in every
limb, she made her way to tho drawing-room,
where she expected to find Laura or Julia
awaiting her with terrible tidings of Vivien’s
turpitude. But gay voices sounded within the
spacious apartment; and, on entering, she
found her sisters and Mrs. Digby admiring and
discussing some patterns for lockets which
Baron Durski had ordered from town for the
bevy of bridesmaids who were to attend his
fiancee to the altar.
“ Oh ! here is Tessa,” cried Laura, catching
sight of her. “She has moro taste than I pos
sess ; let her decide which we shall have.”
While drawing her passive sister forward, she
carelessly demanded what she had been doing
with herself all these hours.
“ Do you know papa began to grow quite un
easy about you ; and as some one said you were
going toward the village the last time you were
seen, he has walked down to the lodge to meet
you. Did you not see anything of him ? Why,
"where have you been?”
“ In the park,” Tessa evasively replied; “and
I must go and dress.”
So saying, she disengaged herself from Laura,
and ran up stairs to her own room.
No one seemed discomposed or astonished,
save at her own absence. What could this
mean? Had not the foreigner made his ap
pearance, after all? Or had. Vivien intercepted
and contrived to silence him ?
It was all a mystery, and Tessa could do
nothing but wonder at it, as she changed her
dress with all possible dispatch, for the colonel,
like all military men, enforced punctuality.
Wnen sbo ran down to the dining-room some
few minutes or so after tho last bell had re
sounded through the house, she met her father
in the hall.
“My dear,” he said, a little impatiently, “I
wish you would go and remind Vivien that we
are waiting for her. I cannot think why she
d..es not come ; she was nearly dressed when
I left her hall' an hour ago.”
Tessa obeyed, and the next minute was tap
ping at the door of Mrs. Annesley’s dressing
room.
“Whois there?” asked Viven, with an un
usual tremor in her voice, as if the summons
had startled her.
“It is I—Tessa. Papa has sent me to you
with a message.”
There was a short delay, a sound as if two
persons were whispering together, the one en
treating, the other replying angrily, then foot
steps crossed the floor. Another pause, and
at last the key was turned in the lock, and
Vivien came forth.
It was well for her that Colonel Annesley had
not come himself to inquire the cause of her
non-appearance, for even he, unsuspicious as
he was, must have been amazed at her looks.
Her hair was disordered, as though she had
pushed it back from ber brows in a moment of
pain, or misery ; one of her bracelets lay on the
floor, with its clasp broken, as if roughly
dragged from her arm ; and there was a scared
expression in her eyes, that made Tessa invol
untarily compare her to some hunted creature,
who knew not whither to turn for a refuge.
“You here !” she murmured, and then cast a
wild glance over her shoulders. “ Why have
you come to me ?”
Tessa gave her father’s message, but Vivien
did not hear a word of it. She was listening
in spite of herself—listening to something in
audible to the young girl, who was obliged to
repeat her words.
Then, suddenly, Mrs. Annesley put her hand
toher head. “You come to bid mo go down
to dinner. I cannot—L cannot !” she wailed.
“ Say that I am ill—very, very ill 1”
The catching hold of Tessa’s arm, and draw
ing her into the room, she exclaimed, in the
same excited manner, “No, no, you must not
tell them this 1 Hubert will come to see what
ails me ! What shall I do? What shall Ido ?”
“ Act honestly 1” cried Tessa ; “ throw your
self upon papa’s mercy, and tell him all—all
that you have been so wickedly concealing
from him 1 He loves you, and he will ”
With a look of dismay, the terrified woman
pressed her fingers on the speaker’s lips.
“ Hush, hush ! for heaven’s sake, don’t speak
so loud.”
“Why must I lower my voice in my father’s
house ? Is some one playing the spy upon us ?”
asked Tessa, undauntedly.
Vivien, who was trembling from head to foot,
waved her away. “ Leave me—pray leave me 1
Tell the colonel I will come presently ; that I
cannot yet, for I—l am engaged I”
“And who shall I tell him is with you?”
asked Tessa, permitting her eyes to travel
around the room and finally rest upon the door
of a tiny boudoir, which Colonel Annesley had
playfully designated as Vivien’s oratory. “Shall
I tell him that the man with whom you linger
here stole secretly into his house, and now
hides in one of your apartments ?”
A start, and then again that terrified glance
toward the door at which Tessa was pointing.
“ Peace, child, peace lit is you—it is you who
will repent this to the end of yonr life, if you
breathe a syllable of your suspicions to your
father 1”
“ What, madam, you threaten me 1” was the
indignant response. “Know, then, that lam
ready to brave all consequences, it I can but
open papa’s eyes to your true character.”
Vivien wrung her hands. “What have I
done to you, that you hate andvillify mo so
readily ? Yet 1 will forgive you everything if
you will but leave me now, and—and keep si
lence I”
“What I go hence, to enable you to continue
your clandestine interview with the man who
holds you in such disgraceful thraldom ?” was
the vehement inquiry. “Indeed, I will do no
such thing 1”
Vivien’s lips grew white with the intense fear
Tessa’s words evoked, and again she exclaimed,
“Go ; I insist upon it! There is no one here ;
and I choose to be alone.”
“But there is some one lurking within that
room I” exclaimed the spirited girl, advancing
towardj the door of the boudoir. The for
eigner whom I have, on more than one occa
sion, seen with you, is hiding within it at this
moment. If he is innocent of any evil inten
tions, let him come forth and declare who he is
and why he is here.”
Summoning up all her courage, Vivien threw
herself between the impetuous speaker and
the boudoir to which she was hastening, and
defied her.
“ Tessa, I forbid you entering there ! You
disgrace yourself when you suspect me, and I
will no longer endure it. Unless you quit my
presence instantly, I will complain to your fath
er of your behavior.”
But the indomitable girl was not to be cowed
by a threat.
“Do so,” she answered, composedly. “ Had
you shown any regret for your treacherous con
jh&J.WsUw ion to
NEW YORK DISPATCH.
atone for it. As it is, I refuse to quit this room
until papa has dragged from his lurking-place
tho bad man whose presence you prelend to
ignore.”
And flying to the bell, she seized it, and
pealed it again and again, with a force that
brought not onlj the colonel, but his daughters,
his visitors, and servants into the room to
! know the cause of the alarm.
CHAPTER XVIII.
FOILED AGAIN.
For a few moments Vivien seemed paralyzed
by the decision and rapidity of Tessa’s move
ments, and when the Colonel came toward her
with outstretched arms, she fell into them,
sobbing bitterly.
“My love, my Vivien,” he tenderly said,
“ what is the matter ? Are you ill ?”
“Oh, yes, yes; send them all away—pray
send them away I” she murmured, with such a
distracted air, that his uneasiness increased.
Leading her to a chair, he whispered a request
to Mrs. Digby to dispatch a groom, on horse
back, for tao nearest medical man ; and then
bogged her daughters to return to the drawing
room.
He was obeyed, and the room was soon
cleared ; only Tessa obstinately remaining.
Her father turned to her for assistance when
he found that Vivien still and sobbed
as she clung to him.
“Have you no vinaigrette—no salts, my
dear ?”
She did not move, and he repeated his query,
rather angrily. Then she came and clasped
her hands round one of her father’s arms.
“ Come away from her papa—come away un
til she exonerates herself 1”
“ Why, what new folly is this ?” the Colonel
began ; but Tessa went on :
“She is as deceitful as she is beautiful, and
she has frankly confessed that she is unworthy
to bear your name.”
But now her exasperated father shook her
off.
“Great Heavens!” he exclaimed, “are you
making another attempt to sow discord be
twixt my wife and I by your unfounded
charges ? Miserable girl, what madness pos
sesses you ? Have you no consideration lor
me, when you maliciously strive to render mo
unhappy ?”
He turned from his daughter to the drooping
Vivien.
“Forgive her, my dearest. She does not
know the full extent of the wickedness she
commits. This is the result of her ill-regulated
mind. But her violence and cruel jealousy
should evoke your pity, not your resentment.”
“Papa!” said Tessa, writhing beneath his
condemnation, which she was conscious she
did not deserve ; “you are unjust to me—you
are, indeed ! But I will bear with it, for my
heart bleeds for you, even while I seem to be
trying to make you wretched.”
“ Hush I” the Colonel sternly replied ; “you
have said too much. Go to your own room,
before you quite forget your sense of duty, and
and the respect you owe to Mrs. Annesley.”
Putting his hand on her shoulder, he would
have led her to the door, but Tessa resisted,
and cried piteously :
“Pray don’t send me from you, papa, until I
have vindicated myself. It is not like you to
refuse to hear me do this.”
He hesitated; and, seeing this, sho softly
added :
“Your motherless child entreats you to lis
ten to her. Only let me tell you all I know,
and I am sure you will cease to blame me.”
Affected by this appeal, he bade her speak.
“I am afraid,” lie added, “that you have
found bad advisers, my dear. Tho name of
stepmother is generally maligned by silly or
designing persons; and you have already, I
am sorry to say, given me reason to believe
that you are only too ready to credit any ill
natured or foolish report your miscalled friends
bring to you.”
“Would it not be kinder to hear me before
you form any such opinion ?” asked Tessa, try
ing hard to keep down her rising temper,
which the Colonel’s strictures were chafing.
He nodded, and bade her go on. As she
began to speak, Vivien tottered to a window,
and, throwing up the sash, leaned out of it for
air. Her husband was going to follow and
support her; but she waved him back with a
hasty assurance that she was better, which
however, her looks belied, and ho gave all his
attention to Tessa’s explanation.
In a few minutes, the latter had put her
father in possession of all she knew respecting
the shabby foreigner, trying to shape it into
a clear and conclusive narrative, and not omit
ting to mention her conviction that Vivien had
endeavored, before she married, to ship this
troublesome personage to Australia. She ended
with the rencontre of the morning.
“ He was on his way here when I saw him !”
she exclaimed. “It was Mrs. Annesley whom
he sought, and I am positive that at this very
moment he is hiding from your just, wrath in
yonder boudoir.”
Her father still looking incredulous, with in
tense earnestness Tessa went on :
“Call me passionate, jealous, suspicious, if
you will. lam all that you think me—l ac
knowledge it. But, at the same time, remem
ber that tho proofs of my integrity are at
hand. Examine the boudoir, and convince
yourself.”
The colonel was staggered by her evident
sincerity, and he glanced round for Vivien,
who now returned to his side. She had, with
astonishing rapidity, recovered her ordinary
composure. Though very pale still, she no
longer trembled, nor gasped for breath ; but as
sho gazed on Tessa, there was a quiet superi
ority in her air which was betli astonishing and
provoking.
She laid her hand on her husband’s.
“Tessa has told you a long story, and drawn
deductions from it with a skill which does more
credit to her intellect than her heart. But,
Hubert, with air deference to you, I do not
choose to stand at a tribunal in which she is
both my judge and accuser.”
“And you persist in denying that the for
eigner is even now concealed here ?”
Instead of replying to Tessa’s vehement
query, Vivien lifted her eyes to her husband’s
with a look of unutterable affection.
“ While you love and trust me, my Hubert, I
can bear all else.”
She took the key of the boudoir from her
pocket, and laid it on the table before him.
“ To you, love, I cheerfully pay the allegiance
I owe. Do as you will. If you fancy that I
have had a lover hidden there ”
But the colonel would hear no moro.
“Not for a moment have I doubted you, my
dearest! Yet, to convince this obstinate girl,
let her enter the room. And you shall come
with me to my study, and lie on the sofa there
until the nervesshe has upset with her unkind
ness have quieted down a little.”
The husband and wife quitted the room
together; but Tessa, after a moment’s hesita
tion, seized the key, and hastened to unlock
the door of the boudoir. Judge of her conster
nation when she found that it was empty. She
flew to the casement. It was quite possible
for an agilo person to drop from it to the
ground below, and make his escape across the
park unnoticed in tho twilight. But what
proof had she that this had been the case ?
None whatever.
Although her own convictions that Vivien
was not alone, when she came to summon her,
remained unshaken, she saw plainly enough
that nothing she could say would induce her
father to believe in his wife’s guilt, while
she was unable to give him greater reason to
do so than was contained in her own impetuous
allegations.
Poor Tessa sat down on the floor, with her
head on her knees, and thought and thought
until her brain grew confused. Laura came to
her, at the request of the colonel, who was too
warm-hearted not to commiserate the childish
jealousy to which he attributed ail that had
happened, and though he had spoken to Tessa
with severity, he was ready to forgive her'as
soon as she showed that she regretted her con
duct.
Laura, who only know that her sister had
been unpardonably rude to Mrs. Annesley.
came prepared to scold hor a little for it.
“You are too bad—really you are, Tessa.
Our new mamma is a dear little soul, and one
should, on papa’s account, meet her advances
in a better spirit.”
No reply being vouchsafed, she waited a
little while, and then said :
“ Come down stairs. Papa is ready to for
give and forget. Oh, Tessa, we need not make
troubles, for they come upon us fast enough.”
There was such sadness in her tones, that
her sister looked up. For the first time it
dawned upon her that Laura was altered; that
the gay selfishness which had formerly char
acterized her was fast disappearing, and that
she was more sympathizing, more womanly,
than of old.
“You speak as if you knew what it is to be
unhappy, Laura. And yet you can have noth
ing to make you so.”
“ I have been saying the very same thing to
you, my dear, in different words. It strikes
me that neither of us have inherited papa’s
even temper and cheerful disposition. Julia’s
pride and arrogance make her restless and
suspicious; you are always getting into trou
ble, through your impatience of reproof, while
I am so full of caprices and follies that, when I
look into my own heart, I hate myself.”
Tessa put her arm around her sister, for she
saw tears in Laura’s bright eyes. Another
minute, and, in this awakening of their sister
ly affection, they might have confided in each
other; but Julia had missed them, and came
to have her curiosity satisfied respecting the
cause of her father’s grave looks and Vivien’s
pale cheeks. As they heard her foot approach
ing, they both started up, and Tessa, who did
not choose to be questioned, hid behind the
door until she had passed through it, and then
fled away.
When she descended to breakfast on the fol
lowing morning, Vivien showed by her manner
that she intended to let the events of the pre
vious day sink into oblivion. Always gentle
and gracious to the daughters of her husband,
she was even more than commonly so to Tessa,
although the latter received all her advances
with a sullenness that made Colonel Annesley
compress his lips, and cast many a look of dis
pleasure toward his refractory child.
Vivien saw this, and it alarmed her. Above
all things, she was anxious to keep peace in
tho household, and, slipping her arm through
her husband’s as they rose from the table, she
asked him to walk with her into the conserva
tory, where she was planning some altera
tions.
“ I will come to you in a moment, my dear,
biit lmuetEcenKtoJJi’ceaafijßl).
And, in obedience to his signal, Tessa fol
lowed him to the library.
“My child,” be said, -with sorrowful gravity,
“ I am not going to enter upon your past con
duct; I see the utter inutility of doing so.
From the commencement of my love for Viv
ien, you have steadily nourished a jealous dis
like of her, that is growing into positive hatred.
1 perceive, with regret, that nothing I have
urged, nor any efforts on her part, have di
minished this. I think, therefore, it will be
better for ail of us if you leave home.”
Tessa cried out involuntarily, and rushed
into his arms.
“ I cannot, will not, leave you, papa!”
“ And yet you do not hesitate to make my
life a miserable one,” he reminded her. “I
must repeat that our separation for a t.me has
become absolutely necessary. Vivien’s health
is delicate, and many such scenes as we had
yesterday must kill her. Julia wishes you to
accompany her to St. Petersburg!). Will you
do so, or would you prefer a long visit to our
relatives in Sussex ?”
“I wish for nothing but to stay here,” sobbed
Tessa, clinging to him. “You don’t know
what you are doing when you try to drive me
from von. This must be Vivien’s work. She
fears my vigilance ; she knows that detection
must come sooner or later, and she thinks by
ridding herself of me, that she shall put off the
evil day.”
With a sternness that awed and silenced her,
the colonel exclaimed:
“Peace, Tessa! Once for all, I will not lis
ten to your strictures on my wife’s conduct;
neither will I permit you to continue annoying
her. Choose your future place of abode, for
beneath my roof you shall not remain.”
“ Would you banish your child for one who,
a few months ago, was a stranger to you?” she
passionately demanded.
“No; it is to preserve my own peace of
mind that I have come, reluctantly enough,
Heaven knows, to this determination. In my
passage through life, I have seen, but too
often, that the noblest natures will be warped
by tne continual whispering of suspicion. At
present Vivien and I are happy in each other,
but I cannot tell how soon o • mutual love
and confidence maybe destroyed if you remain
here.”
Tessa laid her face on her father’s shoulder,
and wept bitterly. Some self-reproach might
mingle with her grief, but very little. She had
striven hard with tho jealousy w.iich had been
awakened in her young heart by the discovery
of her father’s attachment to Vivien Otway ;
and, for tho rest, she still felt she had had am
ple grounds for that distrust of her step
mother’s goodness which her father was so
strongly condemning.
Impressed with the belief that Mrs. Annes
ley bad prompted her father’s resolve to send
her away, Tessa, after a struggle with her bet
ter self, resolved to meet craft with craft. She
would not be driven from her father’s side—
hor generous, confiding father. While she was
able to watch over his interests, those who
plotted against his happiness would be, in
some measure, kept at bay.
Actuated by these motives, sho raised her
head, and said, with a faint smile :
“ You are rather hard upon your little Tessa,
dear papa. However, if you will promise not
to send me from you until after Julia’s mar
riage, I will try if I cannot avoid giving any
further offense either to you or Mrs. Annes
ley.”
The promise was eagerly given. From this
concession the colonel saw signs of a desire to
retrieve herself in his opinion.
“ Only be once more the dear little, merry,
good-tempered girl I found my Tessa when I
returned to England, and you shall find Vivien
and I the most indulgent of friends and
parents.”
Tessa hastily returned his kiss, and broke
from him. It was as painful to deceive him
as it would have been to confess that, in spite
of all he bad said, she intended to bide her
time, convinced that, ere long, in spite of her
consummate tact, Vivien must, cither betray
herself, or he denounced by tho shabby for
eigner.
(To bo continued).
SOME FUH.
BY MAX ADELEH.
THE INDIANS MUSTN’T BE OF
FENDED.
A paper, a short time ago, suggested that,
previous to the Centennial celebration, tho
authorities of Philadelphia should remove from
Independence Hall everything that would be
likely to offend our Southern fellow-citizens.
If this recommendation is complied with, we
shall also insist upon the removal of the por
trait of William Penn from the Hall. We do
not forget the services of William Penn during
tho Revolutionary War. We know that he
fought bravely and well in many a hand-to
hand combat upon many a bloody field. We
know that General Washington always in
trusted to him any task which required fiery
courage and sanguinary valor. We know that
ho wrote tho Declaration of Independence with
one hand and rang the Liberty bell with the
other. We know that he olten lent his night
shirts to the beloved Father of his Country
when the two bivouacked upon the frozen
ground, and when the beloved Father of his
Country had nothing else to wear. We do not
forget these things. But we have invited a
few Indian triends to stay at our bouse during
the celebration, and, us we intend to take them
around town, we desire to do so with a cer
tainty of retaining the few gray hairs still scat
tered here and there over our venerable bead.
But we know very well that if we walk into In
dependence Hall with Shying Mule of the
Kickapoo tribe, and that Impulsive and
thoughtless bravo should cast his eyes upon
that portrait, terrific consequences would en
sue. As this Indian recalls to mind how, when
he was a boy, William Penn gathered him and
his friends under that tree, and deceived them
into a sale of the whole State of Pennsylvania
for six plugs of tobacco, two butcher knives, a
bundle of bed-slats, eight paper collars, half a
dozen marbles, a box of clothes-pins, and rail
road pass, and three sections of stove-pipe—
which he represented to be breech-loading
cannon—when the Indian chieftain remembers
this gigantic fraud, won’t he begin to tear
around all of a sudden, and butcher ever so
many of us ? No ; that picture certainly must
come down, or wo shall offend our copper
colored friends, and then we will have trouble.
Keep that picture up, and there is going to be
such a frightful rise in wigs, in that city, about
five years from now, as will make millionaires
of barbers and other men who have a monopoly
of hair.
A TYPO’S BLUNDER.
Another one of those type setting bandits
has branded himself as a fitting victim for the
knife of the assassin. The editor of a paper in
Wilmington, Delaware, out from an exchange
an obituary poem, and sent it up into the com
posing room with the following explanatory
remarks: “We publish below a very touching
production from the talented pen ol Miss
Louisa Henry. It was written liy Miss F
at the death-bed of her sainted mother, and it
overflows with those expressions of an over
whelming filial affection which are the natural
efflorescences of a pure, untutored genius that
has developed beneath the sheltering influ
ences of a mother’s love. The reader will ob
serve how each line glows with ardent affection
and tenderest regret.”
Well, the editor sent that poem up stairs,
and what should this infatuated and revolu
tionary compositor do but get the clipping
turned over somehow, and, never thinking that
there might be something on the other side,
he went to work and set up in type the wrong
side of the paper. The consequence was that
when the popular journal was printed, the
editor’s introductory remarks prefaced a recipe
for “Swipes in Swine,” and a painful article on
“ The Hog Cholera in Tennessee.” Perhaps a
disconsolate and solitary printer might not
have been observed at large in the streets ol
Wilmington that evening, inquiring where
arnica could be purchased at the best ad
vantage. And perhaps Miss Henry’s brother
did not oall upon that editor with a discourag
ing club I
A CASE OF FALSE PRETENSES.
A man in Wisconsin has applied for a divorce
upon the ground that his wife married him un
der false pretenses. He says she told him,
while he was addressing her, that she could
hoe an acre of potatoes and split two cords of
wood between Breakfast and dinner ; and she
had proved herself a fearful fraud because she
could only split half a cord and hoe three times
across the field. It seems hard that men are
continually to be made the victims of these de
signing women. Why will wives trifle in this
manner with the tenderest affections of their
husbands ? Why will they shatter their heart
strings? How much happier would have been
the home of this Wisconsin woman if she had
emulated the example of tho Shoshone squaws.
One of them goes out and digs turnips all day,
and then wheels them home at night in a push
cart, while her self-sacrificing husband, in the
depth of his unspeakable love, sits on the front
door-steps smoking Lone Jack tobacco and
meditating upon the number of drinks of pyro
technical rum he can put in his jug with the
money he gets when he sells that squaw. True
love is always hopeful of the future.
SOAP BOILERS.
There is a man in Camden, N. J., who was
very badly scared by the stories about the ex
plosion of the boiler of the Westfield, and he
writes to us to say that if an iron boiler could
not stand an ordinary amount of pressure, he
is very much afraid that those soap boilers he
hears so many complaints about to the Board
of Health, are very much more dangerous!
He says soap, anyhow, is a very fragile mate
rial, and is unable to bear more than a slight
amount of pressure ; and he is almost certain,
beside, that the hot water on the inside would
gradually eat it away and destroy it. He
wants to know if we will not call the attention
of the authorities to the subject, so that this
practice of making steam boilers out of soap
can be prohibited before we have some fright
ful explosion which will hurl hundreds of hu
man beings into eternity! Are wo never to
have anything done to put an end to the exist
ence of this appalling ignorance in New Jersey ?
TOUCHING OBITUARY.
A Western editor, a few days ago, published
of a young man named John R. Leeds, who,
the editor said, died suddenly and mysteriously
two days before. The friends and family of
Mr. Leeds were running in and out of the office
all day, for the purpose of informing the emi*
nent journalist that John was not dead, and
also to make a fuss about the notice. Next
day a statement appeared in the paper. The
editor said that Mr. Leeds borrowed ten dol
lars of him a week before the obituary ap
peared, and said he would pay it upon a certain
day “as sure as he was alive.” He knew Mr.
Leeds was a man of his word ; and as he didn’t
put in an appearance with the ten dollar bill at
the appointed time, he was just as sure that he
was dead as if he had seen him expire before
his face and had helped to screw the lid on his
coffin. It is hardly necessary to say that Mr..
Leeds immediately called to settle.
CAUSE OF CRIME AND MISERY.
An exchange says : “An English writer has
been engaged in estimating the amount of gold
in the world in bulk. He says it could—melted
into a lump—be contained in a cellar twenty
four feet square by sixteen feet in depth. A
smali lump, indeed, to cause so much orime
and sin and misery 1”
It may seem strange that such recklessness
should really exist, and yet we think we could
lay our band upon a man who would be per
fectly willing to have that lump stowed away
in his cellar, and take his chances with the sin
and misery. It is strange how men will con
sent to sacrifice themselves; but wo believe
this friend of ours would do it. His address
may be procured by writing to us at this office,
inclosing a sample of the gold.
THE RIVAL CITIES.
Chicago and St. Louis—XVhat St. Louis
Thinks of Chicago.
It is fortunate for the peace of the land that
the West is as big as it is, and that the cities
of St. Louis and Chicago are as far apart as
they are. The expansions of a balloon are
nothing to the inflations of rival cities. Here
is the way St. Louis pitches into Chicago in the
St. Louis Journal of Commerce:
Ye nymphs that reign o’er sewers and sinks,
The river Rhine, it js well known,
Doth wash your city of Cologne;
But tell me, nymphs, what power divine
Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine ?
Chicago has contended desperately against
the destined superiority oi St. Louis. She has
borrowed Eastern capital, and built railroads
toward every point of the compass. She has
sent out regiments of drummers and bummers,
who have swarmed over the whole West, trying
to persuade country merchants that Chicago
was the only place to purchase goods at fair
rates. She has discrimated against St. Louis
interests on all railroads under her control;
she has tried to build railroads around us that
should draw the trade from territory within a
hundred miles of the city ; she has tried to de
stroy the character of St. Louis wheat and
flour by sending some of her trash into East
ern markets branded as the highest grades
from St. Louis ; she hired a man to count her
people over again, and in the hope that a few
thousand dollars would enable this new census
taker to eke out her popolation so that it would .
make a respectable showing beside that of St.
Louis. In fact, she has tried almost every
conceivable plot, plan or project to injure the
character and standing of her worthy and
older sister, and
For ways that are dark
And tricks that are vain,
She is very peculiar.
But now she has capped the climax of ag
gravated enormities bs abandoning all princi
ples of honor and decency, and commencing to
fight us with weapons as foul as the Chinese
stinkpots. Thanks to the gods, we have close
by us the great sewer of the Western Conti
nent, and when Chicago let loose upon us that
fearful tide of black abominations, foul, slimy
and thick with more horrors than crept into
the hell-broth of Macbeth’s witches ; dead pup
pies, dead cats, dead cat-fish, dead suicides,
dead babies, the fruit of early divorces, drain
age from a thousand cess-pools, loads of garb
age from kitchen sculleries, loads of loud
smelling offal from the markets, and a multi
tude of other nameless things ; the dirty mass
being already well diluted in its course through
the sluggish Illinois, hugged Bloody Island,
and passed off to the Great Gulf. The west
wind bore its foul odors tar away over the Illi
nois prairies, where they will either be absorb
ed in the atmosphere, breeding some fever and
some deaths, or sink a§ manure in the soil, and
be finally worked into a crop of corn or wheat,
which will find its way to our market.
But we rejoice with our neighbors that the
opening of this terrible sluice, the Chicago
river, has made some improvement, by reduc
ing the number and variety of their smells as
well as the intensity of the poison in the foul
fluid. A dose of the old river water given to a
cat killed her in eleven seconds, while a drink
of the new river only gave to another cat a turn
of the colic, which some thought was a fit of
catalepsy.
It reminds us of the young Kentuckian who
was about starting on a warlike expedition
against the .Indians. He desired his sweet
heart to work upon his belt some appropriate
motto. She suggested the old Spartan maxim,
“Victory or death.” Looking upon her lovely
face, and thinking that he might never see it
again, he modestly suggested that the motto
should be modified so as to read, “Victory or
be crippled.” Our Chicago friends have se
cured the blessed privilege of choosing “Death
o?: the Colic.”
A LIVELY GHOST.
HE. FRIGHTENS A. PMIILY AM*
SMASHES CROCKER'S.
Many years since I was invited to pass a few
days with a wealthy farmer, whose residence
(in Hertfordshire) was that of the Elizabethan
style, where ghosts delight to locate. Its
manifold chambers, corridors, passages and
closets, placed in juxtaposition, with a wild
legend connected with it, imparted to it a
serious solemnity well calculated to breed
“ strange fantasies” in the minds of those in
the least prone to superstition. I had resided
there a week, when, one night, about the witch
ing hour, when “ ghosts” d ;ht to walk, the
whole household was alarme. y most hideous
noises proceeding from the .tchen. Smash
went the crockery 1 Bang v. t the tinware !
Such a din and hubbub had i, ,er before been
heard. Then came a noise though some
heavy substance had been • across the
floor, while ever and anon a , cut blow ap
peared to arrest its progress—a progress which
was renewed more loudly than before. Armed
with his blunderbuss my host led the way. The
farm servants followed with pitchfork, pokers,
and every imaginable weapon of defence. After
some deliberation the kitchen door was reached
and thrown wide open. A lantern was intro
duced ; a crash of glass followed ; a stream of
air entered, and the light was extinguished.
“Suave quipeut,” the cry, and a retreat
was commenced, but the stentorian voice of
the master recalled the intended runaways,
x. {juLm pro-m-J, c...: k.tchen searched—
examined in every part, but no cause whatever
could be discovered to produce such an effect
as we saw before us. In a promiscuous heap
were battered kitchen utensils of every kind,
broken cups, saucers, dishes, etc. ; in fact, the
lorale was a perfect wreck. To complete the
destruction, a portion of the kitchen window
was broken to pieces, and several panes of
glass totally demolished. Nothing was dis
covered. A week or two passed. The circum
stance had become notorious to all. The house
was haunted. The old family legend was
warmed up ; the servants gave notice to quit,
and all was doubt and terror. The farmer’s
wife determined to live there no longer, and it
is more than probable that my friend would
have been compelled to break up his establish
ment, and sustain a ruinous loss, had it not
happened (by the merest chance) that the
mystery was solved—by me. Some half mile
from the house was a thicket, through which
there was no. path. As I walked by it (on a
subsequent visit to my friend) curiosity led me
to wander into its mazes. At the foot of a tree
I perceived a cat, and which said cat was dead
and stiff. “ Oh,” thought I, “ here, then, is
our ghost 1” The poor wretch had forced its
head into a saucepan to feast on the remains
of the butter which it contained, and, from the
formation of the animal’s head, it had not been
able to withdraw it. In its fright and agony,
it had backed all round the kitchen, demolish
ing all in its way, and eventually escaping
through the window. Had I not discovered the
cause of this alarm the house would have re
mained with the reputation of being haunted,
and the children’s children of the terrified
farmer would have convinced other children
that their grandfather’s house was really a
haunted one.
THE LITTLE STRANGER.
Commencing Elfels Journey Ender Re
markable Circumstances.
The Cincinnati Times and Chronicle, of
Thursday, says : It is not often that the “true
life ” of one so young as the hero of this sketch
is written. Nor is it usual, we are inclined to
believe, for heroes generally to present so
many claims upon public attention as in the
case we are about to relate.
On Tuesday of the past week, a lady and
gentleman—a physician of some note, and bis
wife—took passage at Baltimore on the fast
train running to this city over the Baltimore
and Ohio railroad. The lady was in apparent
ly delicate health, and required an unusual
amount of attention, the husband at last mak
ing it an object for the porter of the sleeping
car to watch and attend to every want. But
little attention was paid by the other passen
gers to the pair, though it was generally un
derstood that the lady was an invalid, and as
such was regarded with more or less sympathy.
At a late hour at night the husband, who did
not seem to be easy in mind, stopped the con
ductor as he was passing through the car, and
explaining to him that he had concluded to
stop at Parkersburg, got a “stop over ” check,
which would bring him, on a later train, to
this city by the Marietta railroad. After this
the lady seemed to rest easier, and the hus
band drifted into conversation with his nearest
neighbors. At the proper hour, however, the
passengers had all retired, and long before the
hour for reaching the river, rest had come to
all except, perhaps, th? inmates Section 5 t
No outward sign could have told that anything
unusual was transpiring there, though if knowl
edge oi what was happening coull have spread,
not an eye, probably, would have been closed
in the car that night. As it was, all slept
soundly until the porter’s voice announced the
approach of the train to Parkersburg. At this
moment the conductor, who had promised the
occupants of “No. 5” to call them at the proper
time, approached the section and tapped upon
the door. The husband, half dressed, emerged.
“It’s all right,” he said; “a boy, and just
fifteen minutes old. We’ll go on to Cincin
nati.”
News of the event soon spread through the
car, and from that point to this city the happy
mother did not wish for attention. The father
was almost childish in his delight, it is said,
and not a passenger on the train but was in
vited to see the little stranger.
A brief mathematical calculation made by
one of the passengers proved that the new
comer was of Virginian birth, and without any
calculation at ail, it was plain to all that he
was a wonderful boy, and as such received ev
ery attention due him.
The husband and father called this morning
at the office of the Marietta road and thanked
the officers for the courteous manner in which
he was treated during his journey. He re
ports the mother and child in excellent health
and spirits.
A WOMAN IN WHITE.
(From the Hartford Courant.)
The inhabitants in the vicinity of the town
house were aroused a few nights since at mid
night by a succession of horrible shrieks,
groans, and imprecations, as if proceeding
from a person in mortal terror. As they rang
out in the still night air, they were enough to
send a chill to the stoutest heart. The build
ing was dark when the shrieks were first
heard, but a light was soon seen moving to
ward the place whence they proceeded. The
sounds then gradually lessened, and were at
length succeeded by subdued meanings, after
which silence finally reigned again. Those
who had been aroused did not easily recall the
slumber so rudely interrupted, and many a
dream of demoniacal horrors must have visit
ed their couches before the morning broke.
Anxious to investigate the affair, a gentle
man went to the town-house, where he learned
the following facts :
The keeper was one of the first aroused, and
proceeded to the cell whence the sounds pro
ceeded. There stood a man, clinging to the
bars of the window, his hair tossed wildly
about, perspiration streaming from his brow,
beseeching in the most abject manner to be
taken from the cell. He prayed, cursed, swore,
and declared he would die if kept there longer.
He was taken out, and was with great difficul
ty brought to his senses, when,' in faltering
and broken senses he told his story.
He had been sitting upon the side of the bed
about two hours, without feeling any desire to
sleep, when suddenly a female figure, dressed
in wmte, rose slowly through the floor almost
at his side. Terrified at the apparition, he
shrieked loudly for help, and as he did so the
figure grew larger and larger, until it became
about four times life size. He then rushed for
- the door, where the keeper, upon his arrival,
found him clinging to the iron bars. The keep
er was certain the man could not be suffering
from delirium tremens, as he exhibited no
signs of intoxication when brought there two
days before, and of course had nothing spirit
uous to drink while there. He had been ar
rested for vagrancy.
What makes the affair still more strange, is
the fact that just a year ago that very day an
inmate of the same ceil had aroused the keep
er in precisely the same manner, begging to be
taken from the cell, and affirming that ho saw
a white female figure rise from the floor. The
matter has created ho little stir in that part of
town ; there is no end of speculation, and re
tailers of ghost stories are in high glee.
■u—W—’ *«*»****•-**-*•-
The Quintessence of Meanness.—
We have sometimes thought that Kansas City was
possessed oi two or three oi the.meanest men in the
world, says the Kansas City News, of August 5, but
then a reporter sees more of the discreditable side
of human nature than most people, and he is fre
quently rendered jaundiced and cynical by circum
stances incident to his profession which are calcu
lated to destroy faith in his species, unless he be a
man of marvellous credulity or kind-heartedness
naturally—some of them a thousand per cent worse
than ever find their way into lais columns. A cir
cumstance came to our knowledge yesterday which
shows in an exceedingly unenviable light one of the
fair sex.
Some months ago a gentleman not altogether dis
connected with the drama —let us call him Smith, in
asmuch as that is not his name—secured board in a
private family, the head of which is engaged in rail
roading, and was engaged from home a greater por
tion of his time. Ho paid his board with regularity
and promptness. Five or six weeks since he left for
a week’s trip up the river. On his return he went to
his former boarding place and found the house al
most deserted. I’he woman who kept it had taken
sick, it was feared that her disease was contagious,
and first the boarders all left and then the servants,
and when our knight of the buskin put in an appear
ance she was lying quite low, and with absolutely no
assistance, the servant having left that morning.
The husband was the lady was little ac
quainted, and she was in a very embarrassing condi
tion. The common dictates of humanity suggested
to Mr. Smith to render her assistance. He went for
a physician, and for several days, until he could
procure a servant, nursed and took care ol the wo
man, actually cooking for her and for himself. In
short, he took every possible care of her until her
recovery, a few days sine ?. One of tier first acts was
to make out a bill for four weeks’ board, at regular
rates, and present it to him! He paid it and may be
pardoned for saytng “hebedam. ’ Then he wan
dered vaguely forth and occupied his leisure mo
ments in hunting another boarding-house.
The Washoe Kangaroo Rat.—The
Gold Hill (Cal.) News says: A day or two since we
were shown by Judge Hall, of the firm of Bittner &
Co., a queer rat, in an ordinary wire cage. The said
rat was captured through the instrumentality of our
old friend, Ben Hazeltine, in the cellar of the old
Bowers residence, Crown Point Ravine, where Ben
and his family now reside —as also did tlie rat. This
rat was of a breed peculiar to this section, and may
properly be termed the Washoe kangaroo rat, having
considerably the appearance of a diminutive kanga
roo. His head bore considerable resemblance to that
of a rabbit, although the ears were not quite as long,
but he had regular rat eyes. His color was also that
of a rat, and he was about the size of an old-fash
ioned, iuil-grown San Francisco rat, with a tail about
as long—about seven inches—but it was almost like
a squirrel’s tail, being all covered with bushy hair
about a quarter of an inch long. Altogether, this
strange rat presented rather a pleasing, intelligent
appearance. We have seen the same kind in certain
localities of the Sierra Nevada, but none so large.
They live out in the woods, or will come into camp,
and make themselves sociably at home if they take a
notion. When angry, they have a great way ot stamp
ing with their hind feet, like a rabbit. Hazeltine
says there are half a dozen or more of them occupy
ing the cellar or basement of his residence, and they
are quite mischievous and troublesome in some re
spects, packing potatoes, apples, etc., from one place
to another, with great facility and industry, and pil
ing them up, to bring them all back, perhaps, the
next night or so. They resort together in little fami
lies, or campoodles, like the Piutes. This particular
rat of whom we are speaking came to bad end. He
was taken, last of all, to a doctor’s office, in his cage;
and how it happened we cannot say, but he got out,
and it is said he ate a whole box of cathartic pills,
and deliberately physicked himself to death, lor he
was found dead next day.
A Large Appetite.—The Marys
ville (Cal.) Appeal, of May 21, is responsible for the
following:
“ Can I get my dinner here, sir?” said a long,
lean, hungry-looking specimen of humanity, step
ping up to the bar of the Merchants’ Hotel, yes
terday.
“ Yes, I reckon,” responded “the General,” who
happened to be behind the counter.
We looked at the applicant. He had broad hips.
He had hollow, long jaws. He wore a hollow stom
ach. In fact, he was not full chested. He looked
like a dangerous customer where unprotected food
was left lying around loose. He entered the dining
room and called for a porter-house steak. Ho got it,
also potatoes, bread, soup, vegetables, pie, coffee,
and sundry other things. By-and-by the table was
cleared, and he then ordered a mutton chop. This,
with the trimmings, vanished also. Then he called
for a pork chop. He got it, and into the cavernous
recesses of that India rubber stomach it disappeared
also. The waiter sat down, completely exhausted.
The cook wept. After eating a cold lunch, the
stranger arose, his stomach loreboding immediate
dissolution, for “coming events cast their shadows
before,” and walking up to the bar asked, in a soft
and wheezing voice:
“ How much do I owe you, sir ?’*
“Not a cent, sir,” replied the General; “I am
your debtor; I have to pay six bits daily for the
refuse cart to take away the rubbish—you have
saved me the trouble. Take a drink,” and he took it.
The last we saw of him, he was going toward the
bridge, humming, “ Oh, how my bowels yearn!”
The Portrait Pane—Ono of the
most singular occurrences we have heard of is the
profile of a man upon a window pane on the north
side of a house at Ashtabula Harbor (says the Come
ont, Ohio, Citizen), occupied at present by Mr. Chas.
Lynn. D. B. Geary visited the place, recently, for
the purpose of gratifying his curiosity, and reports
as follows:
The outlines of this strange picture were first no
ticed some six weeks ago, gradually being developed,
until on the occasion of his visit, the profile was per
fect, and the expression of the eye particularly sharp
and clear. Mr. Geary states that while looking at it
there seemed to be no escape from the stare; get in
what position you will, the eye seems to rest upon
you with its piercing sharpness.
The profile represents a man of middle age, very
heavy, full beard, with turn-down collar. Some days
ago, Mr. Lynn sold the sash containing this profile
to a gentleman for $25. Upon being removed from
its position in the house, no trace of the strange pic
ture could be seen, but upon being replaced, it was
as plain to the eye as before. This marvel is attract
ing people by hundreds, the road to and from the
house being constantly thronged with visitors
anxious to witness the sight. Hon. B. F. Wade and
lady are among those who visited the place. Mr.
Geary states that all attempts to wash it off have been
without the least effect, although the strongest acids
have been applied.
Terrible Encounter with a Cow.—
A gentleman named Holsinger, who recently moved
from Kansas City to his farm in the country, about
three miles south, came near losing his life in trying
to save his wife from an enraged cow, Saturday last.
Some two weeks ago the cow had a calf, and as it is
the custom, in due course of time it was separated
from her. On Saturday, Mrs. Holsinger went, as
usual, to milk, and while performing this duty, the
cow turned her head around and began hooking her.
Becoming frightened, Mrs. Holsinger turned to go
away, when the cow plunged at her, and catching
bee «b bee boras, throw bee eeyeufl Jost iq tji« air,
Sunday Edition, August 20.,
a ® Bo °n as she came down, repeated the act. By
this time Mr. Ho singer, hearing tiie cries of his
wife, bunded to the yard, and seeing her lying on
the ground arid the cow’s horns pinning her there,
he rushed in, auu by kicks and jerxs got the animal
away, only to be treated to a siiui-ar ’‘go through”
himself. Once catching with her horn under his
rib, the cow threw him on the ground, and then has
tened to his wife again; buc Mr. Hoisinjer, rousing
from the effects of his fall, gave timely aid to his
wife, and rescued her irom further danger by drag
ging her quickly to the i° ice and a.most throwing
her over; not a moment too soon, however, lor the
maddened animal was coming again, and just as Mr.
Holsinger jumped over the fence the cow’s horns
touched tue rails. The cow had a ways been very
gentle before, ard her rage cannot be accounted tor.
bruiseß° ISineer and wi e esca P olA severe
Bismarck's Safety Medal.—Anec
dotes of Bismarck are now in order. One ot the
latest tells how he comes to wear the PruoS’an safety
medal among i*is orders. In the Summer of 1845,
when the great statesman was but twenty-seven
years old and on duty as a cavalry officer, he was
standing with other officers on a bridge near a lake
when his groom, Hilderorand, the son ot the forest
er on his estate, rode a horse for a bath in the lake
close by the bridge. Suddenly the horse lost his
footing, and Hilderbrand disappeared in the water.
Bismarck threw off his sword in an instant, tore ofl
his uniform, and dashed headlong into the lake ta
save his servant. He seized him, but the drowning
man clung to him so fast that ho had to dive before
he could free himself. Bubbles rose over the spot,
and master and servant were given up by the specta
tors as lost; but the powerful swimmer had succeed
ed in releasing himself, and he arose to the surface,
bearing up with him and bringing to land his inani
mate burden. The rescued man, however, shortly
recovered, and for the brave action Bismarck ob
tained a simple medallion—the well-known Prussian
safety medal—which may occasionally be seen beside
the many stars on his breast. He is proud of thia
mark of honor, and it is said that on one occasion a>
noble diplomatist asked him the meaning of this lit
tle modest decoration. “I am,” he replied, “in th®
habit sometimes of saving a man’s life.”
A SmartFeline.—Thomas cats gen
erally are not celebrated for their talents, except in
the musical line, but there is one owned just at the
edge of this city who makes himself agreeable in a
way not often adopted by his kind, He has long had
a habit of following members of the family in which
he resides into the city; and we have it from one of
the gentlemen that his right arm has been elongated
three inches within the past year by his constant
throwing of stones to drive back the cat; notwith
standing which treatment, he generally finds pussy
awaiting him on the road home, when he is going
toward it late at night, and frequently a half a mile
or more from the house, to which Thomas always re
turns with the “ last one of the family at home,”
positively refusing to enter the door until the last
one is housed. Recently the gentleman turned his
flock of hens out to grass in his own domain, but, as
is the custom with hens, they prefer to go into a
neighbor’s field, The cat, having seen the raiding
hens driven from the field several times by their
owner, has at length mastered the situation and ap
pointed himself a guard; and no sooner does a hen
creep through or fly over the fence, than the cat
goes for and circumnavigates her, drives her back
across the road to her lawful scratching-grounds,
ond then quietly resumes his watch in the cellar
window. It is supposed that this cat could speak
good English, if he chose.
Quick Work.—One of the Ohio
Census Marshals reports that a man and a woman
said they married in February, 1870. They were
asked, merely as a matter of form, if they had any
children. The reply was:
“ Yes, one.”
“ When was it born ?”
“ In June,” was the reply.
“ What year ?” asked the Marshal, greatly aston
ished.
“This year,” said the woman, “1870.”
The Marshal, of course, had no more to say. It
was none of his business when the child was born.
So he merely made the entries in his blanks and
started off. He was stopped by the wife and mothej?
with:
“Say, mister, don’t think hard of mo. You see 1
was a widow when George here married me, and my
first husband had been dead only about four months.
You see my first husband ana George were brothers,
You see how it is.”
So, to ease the woman’s mind, the Marshal made
an explanatory note opposite the record of this
family.
A Question Settled . —The question
as to whether lager beer is intoxicating has again
been settled—this time in the affirmative. At Syra
cuse, N. Y., an innocent-looxing Onondaga Indian
was arrested for being drunk, aud having testified
that he had drank nothing but lager, the person who
sold him that beverage was also arrested. He ad
mitted that ho had sold the Indian lager, but a Syra*
cuse jury had decided that lager was nob intoxicat
ing, and hence it could be no offense to sell that
harmless drink. But it was proven clearly that the
Indian was drunk, aud that he had imbibed nothing
but beer, making the conclusion inevitable that the
latter must bo intoxicating. The justice stated that
if lager had such on effect on the aborigenes, here
after selling that beverage to Indians would be con
sidered a violation of the statute, aud would be pun*
ished accordingly.
An Anecdote of the Great Banker.
—Baron James de Rothschild, daring the Commun
ist period in Paris, was one morning seated in his
cabinet, when two fellows from the faubourgs,
armed to the teeth, entered and asked to bo shown
in to citizen Rothschild.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “what can I do for you?”
<» Well, this is what we have got to say: You have
millions of money, and the people want bread; so
you must share, or, if not ”
“ Share ? Very well. How many are you in
France?”
“Perhaps thirty millions.”
“ And how much money do you suppose I have ?”
“Say a hundred and fifty mil.ions.”
“ Well, then, among thirty millions that makes
five francs a head. You are two. Here are ten
francs for you, aud now wo are quits.”
The men were so confounded by the argument
and by the rapidity with which the whole incident
occurred, that they took the money and disappeared.
Newspaper Bores.—There is a great
variety of newspaper bores. The most fiendish and
relentless ot his class, however, is the superannuated
Auger, who picks up a paper somewhere and finds a
“devilish good thing, that I haven’t seen in your ■
paper, and which perhaps you’ve overlooked; it’s
something you ought to have.” Since the days of
the first of those Augers, no one of them has ever
tound anything fit to be printed in any paper, and
certainly nothing that ought to have a place in your
paper. What ho officiously offers has invariably been
passed, as it should have passed, by a scissors man
who has grown bald and gray in the business of get
ting together interesting reading. Poor old Scissors
grows balder and grayer whenever the finger-marks
of the Selecting Auger are made visible in his good
work, and if Scissors steps out into the hall a bit to
ease his burdened soul with a quiet “ swear,” it is
reasonable to suppose that a “ tear from the Record*
ing Augel will,” etc.—Louisville Courier.
The average Missouri editor is
blessed with a lively imagination. Here is a littla
story for which the Greeneville Reporter vouches; j,
“Two youths of the name of Nelson planned to rob
an Irishman working on the Arkansas extension of
the,lron Mountain Railroad of his hard-earned
moirey. The younger, a smooth-faced boy of about
fifteen or sixteen years, was dressed in female ap*
parel, and paid particular attention to the Irishman,
who had been drinking. He was soon smitten, and
proposed that they should be married forthwith. A
bogus justice of the peace was sent for, and the knot
was tied. The Irishman then gave his newly-found
treasure of a wife sixty dollars, all the money he had.
The youth changed his apparel, and assisted the poor
fellow to look for his missing bride; but all efforts to
find her proved unavailing. The dupe took the cars
for St. Louis, thoroughly disgusted with the girl hq
leaves behind him.” .
The Delight of Going to Sleep.—
That death and sleep are very much alike, the sage®
all tell us, but see how attractively Leigh Hunt de*
scribes the latter: “It is a delicious moment, cer
tainly, that of being well nestled in bed, and feeling
that you will drop gently to sleep. The good is ta
come—not past; the limbs have been just tried
enough to render the remaining in one position de*
lightful; the labor of the day is done. A gentle fail*
ure of the perceptions comes creeping over one; tha
spirit of consciousness disengages itself more and
more with slow and hushing degrees, like a mother
detaching her hand from that of ner sleeping child j
the mind seems to have a balmy lid closing over it,
like the eye; ’tis closing, ’tis closing—’tis closed,
The mysterious spirit has gone to take its rounds.
Inviting an Editor to Witness Her
Death. —The editor of a newspaper in Richmond,
Virginia, received, on Thursday last, a polite not®
from a lady of respectability in that city, signed by
her full name, announcing that she would, at eight
o’clock in the evening of that day, proceed to taka
her own life by the most available means, and re* t
spectfully soliciting the pleasure of a reporters’s
company to witness the ceremony. Punctually at
the appointed hour, the reporter and several others
invited guests presenten themselves at the residence
designated, but, owing to the interference of friends
or some other circumstances, the attempt was in*
definitely postponed. But the purpose of the wiitee
came very near being carried out. Of course th®
lady is deranged.
The Advantage of Having a Wira
of Impulsive Temperament.—A Canadian sailor is
experiencing the woe of having an impulsive woman
for a wife, and she the woe of being impulsive. Ha
came home from sea, the other day, bringing but flf*
teen dollars. She thought he should have brought
more; and from mild remonstrances and gentle up*
braidings they rapidly grew angry, finally coming ta
blows, and then and there separating “ forever.” It
turned out that the man had placed forty dollars iuj *
the savings bank, but felt called upon to defend him*
self first against the angry words of his wife and he#
baseless charges before explaining what he had dona
with the money.
A Sick Man’s Trouble. —A Hartford
man was taken sick a short time ago. His physician
said it was a case of measles, and gave bim medicine*
The next day, dissatisfied, he sent for doctor num*
her two. He said it was typhoid fever, and gave him
medicine. The third day, still discontented, he
called doctor number three. He seat him to thq
hospital, declaring that it was a case of small-pox.
In three days he was out, hunting for a lawyer who
would bring suit for damages against somebody, bo*
cause it was only an attack of erysipelas.
Meeting with a Warm Reception.—•
At Belvidere, 111., lately, during a heavy thundei
storm, three burglars uudertook to enter the count
ing-room of Mr. G. Leonard’s warehouse. Georg®
Tuttle, an employe on guard, attacked the scoun* *
drels, who were armed. During the fight Tuttla
shot one of the burglars in the mouth and through
the arm, and knocked the other senseless to the
floor. The third fled. The two injured burglary
are now in jail.
A Man of Candor.—Michael O’Bri-,
en, who keeps a hotel up at Conshohocken, in th<
Schuylkill Valley, is a man of such candor as to de
serve more than a local fame. In the window of his
bar-room is posted this placard: “Young men an<3
boys are forbidden to occupy these seats. They will
find their way here too soon for their own good. *
What shall we say for honest Michael ? (
An old lady from one of the rural
districts astonished a clerk in one of the stores, a few
days ago, by inquiring if he had any yaller
meats, eish us thsj (Ml Mo lottors in,"

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