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$2 PER ANNUM.
Trustees’ sale OK Two Valuable Dwelling Houses I In the West End of the City of Westminster, Md. The undersigned, by virtue of a deed of trust from Josephus Bankert to them, duly executed and recorded, will sell at public sale, on the premises, on Saturday, the 21st day of March, A. D. 1885, at 2 o’clock, p. m., the following valuable leasehold property, situate on Carroll street, in the West End of the city of Westminster, Md., and nearly opposite the Lutheran Church: First. A lot of land containing 4,502* SQUARE FEET, MORE OR LESS. The improvements thereon consist of a newly built and substantial two-story Brick Dwelling House and necessary outbuildings. parcel of land is the southeast^^®*®^** one-half of Lot No. II of “Baumgartner’s Addition to Westminster,” and is subject to an annual ground rent of one dollar and fifty cents, payable in semi-annual payments of seventy-five cents each. Second. A lot of land containing 4,502* SQUARE FEET, MORE OR LESS. The improvements on this lot consist also of a newly and substantially built two-story Brick DWELLING HOUSE, large frame stable, hog pen, Ac. Said parcel of land is the northwest half of Lot No. 11 of “Baumgart ner’s Addition to Westminster,” and is sub ject to an annual ground rent of one dollar and fifty cents, payable in semi-annual pay ments of seventy-five cents each. There is a well of excellent water with pump on the di viding line between the two lots for the joint use of the occupants thereof. The ground rent will be paid up to the first of April next These houses will be offered separately and jointly, and will be sold as may appear for the best interest of the parties concerned. Terms of SaleDne-half cash on the day of sale, or on the ratification thereof, and the other one-half in one year from the day of sale, the credit payments to be secured by the notes of the purchaser or purchasers, with approved security, bearing interest from the day of sale. A deposit of 1100 in cash on each property will be required from the purchaser or pur chasers on the day of sale. WILLIAM L. SEABROOK, CHARLES T. REIFSNIDER, Trustees. R. C. Matthews, Auct’r. feb2B,ts TRUSTEE’S SALE OF VALUABLE Real and, Personal Property, Jn Freedom District, Carroll Co., Md. By virtue of a deed of trust, executed l y John Coffee and wife, the undersigned, trus tee, will offer at public sale, on the premises, situated on the Beasman road, leading from Eldersburg to Westminster, and distant from Sykesville, on the B. A 0. R. R., about four miles, and about one mile from the Liberty turnpike, adjoining the landsof Capt. Joshua Beasman and Wm. Beasman, on Tuesday, the Hth day of March, 1885, at 12 o'clock, M., all that valuable farm, located as above described, containing 124 ACRES, MORE OR LESS. The improvements consist of a Log Dwelling House, stable, corn house and T other outbuildings; there is an M'CSm excellent spring of water near house. This property is in good productive condition, well watered and pnder good fencing. About 40 acres are in gUfld timber. There is also on this property a yoqng apple orchard of choice varieties, in foil bwjfl/pOffditipp- Terms of } n cash on t" 6 day of sale or upon the carifipation thereof by the Court: the residue to be paid in equal installments, of 12 and 18 mouths respec tively, with interest from the daypf sale, and to be secured to the satisfaction of the trustee. At the same time and place, the under signed, trustee, will sell at public sale the following personal property, to wit: Three horses, 1 cow, 1 heifer, 1 cart, 1 wagon, plows, harrows, wagon harness, plow harness, saddle, a lot of corn by the barrel, 2 stacks of hay, lot of fodder, 14 acres of growing wheat and rye, lot of seed potatoes, vinegar by the barrel, and other articles. Terms of Sale of Personal Property. —AU sums of $-1 and under, cash, OF) nil sums above f-5 a credit of six months will be given, se cured by notes of purchasers, hearing interest from day of sale. No property to he removed .until settled for. GEORGE W. MANRO, Trustee. Charles B. Roberts, Solicitor. feb2l-ts PUBLIC SALE OP VALUABLE PERSONAL PROPERTY. The undersigned, intending to relinquish farming, will sell at public sale, on his farm formerly owned by James Blizzard, adjoining the city of Westminster, on Tuesday, March 24th, 1885, At 10 o’clock, a. m., the following property : 4 HORSES; one a large Gray Horse, large Gray Mares, one in foal by Alert; 1 Dunn Mare, in fool by Alert ; 1 Bay Colt, one year old ; Twin Colts; one year old; the Grays are between 5 and 0 years. 8 Head of amm Cows; 1 Jersey Bull, from Rgister ed Stock out of Rex Family; 4-sUL Sows, with Pig* ; 1 Chester Boar, 14 Cow Chains, 6 sets of Wagon Harness, as good as new; set of Spring Wagpp'Harness, 5 Collars, 5 Bridles, 5 sets of Hatnes, 8 Halters, Wagon Saddle, Single, Double and Triple Trees; Log Chains, Breast Chains, Fifth Chains, Jockey Sticks, 2 Horse Rakes, 2 Harrows, Cultivator, Drill, 2 Mowers, 1 Reaper, 2 Fodder Cutters, 14-horse Power, 4 horse power with Thresher, complete; 4 Shaking Forks, 3-horse Plow, 2 2- borse Plows, 2 Corn Coverers, Double Shovel Plow, 2 Single Shovel Plows, large Hog Box, made to haul 30 Shotes; Broadtread 4- borse Wagon, 2 Spring Wagons, Stone Bed, Hay Carriage; Wood Bed, Wheelbarrow, Dung Sled, Corn Cutters, Forks, Scythes, Shovels, Hoes, Hatchets, Cooley Creamer, as good as new, with 8 four-gallon Cans ; 11 Milk Cans, 7 five-gallon, 2 three-gallon, 2 two-gallon; 0 Milk Coolers, Hay, Fodder, Straw, Ac. Terms of Sale : — All sums of $5 and under, cash ; on all sums above $5 a credit of 12 months will be given, purchasers to give note with approved security, bearing interest from day of sale. No goods to be removed until settled for. JOHN S. MATHIAS. Ferd. Diffenbach, Clerk, feb 14ts Wm. Brown, Auctioneer. Assignee op mortgagee’s ALE OP REAL ESTATE, In Freedom District, near Winfield, Carroll County, Md. In .pursuance of a power of sale, contained in a mortgage from James Costly and wife, and Joshua Costly and wife, to David Engel of P. and by him assigned to the undersigned, dated the 3rd day of September, 1881, and recorded among the Real Estate Mortgage Records of Carroll county, in Liber F. T. S. No. 16, folio 433, the undersigned, as Assig nee of said mortgage, under the power of sale therein will offer at Public Sale, on the premises, on Saturday, the 21st day of March, 18S5, at 1 o’clock, P. M., all that valuable real es tate lying on the public road leading from Winfield to AVoodbiue, in Carroll county, Md., aboutlJ miles from said AVinfield, and ad joining the lands of Reuben Conway, Silas Jenkins and others, containing 57 ACRES OF LAND, MORE or LESS. This property is improved by , two log dwelling houses, stable, Ac., in good condition. TheflJSKjJfr land is of good quality and read- Ba-i ifflTirfPL ily improved, well watered, with abundance of ti m ben Terms of Sale. —One-third cash on the day of sale or upon the ratification thereof by the Court; the balance in 6 and 12 mouths, the credit payments to be secured by the note or notes of the purchaser to the satisfaction of the assignee, bearing interest from day of sale; or all cash at the option of the purchaser. JOHN H. STEM, Assignee of Mortgagee, feb 28-ts Jas. A. C. Bond, Solicitor. Choice western clover AND TIMOTHY SEED. ALSO SOLE AGENTS FOR THE “FARMERS’ RKLIANCE, ’ ’ the best cheap Fertilizer in use. marl4,3t N. L GOBSUCH A SON. Slje tlmncrutic Aiuiocatc, JJARGAINS, BARGAINS. J. T. WAMPLER Cordially invites his friends and the public generally to call and examine his LARGE STOCK OF GOODS, and compare prices before purchasing else where. We have LADIES’ DRESS GOODS AND DOMESTIC GOODS, Ac., OF ALL KINDS. OUR NOTION DEPARTMENT Is full and complete with all the Latest Nov elties. In our QUEENSWAEE DEPARTMENT, Which is the largest and best selected in the county, we defy competition. OUR GROCERY DEPARTMENT Is always complete with all the various grades of Sugars, Coffees, Teas, Spices, Fruits, Ac. We keep also a Large Stock of Japaned Ware, Tin Ware, Wooden Ware, Glass Ware and Sample Goods, All of which we sell at Rock Bottom Prices. J. T. WAMPLER, ap 22-tf West End, Westminster, Md. Buy your hardware and STOVES OF M. SCHAEFFER & CO., WESTMINSTER, MD., NEAR RAILROAD. We are receiving an elegant line of fine heating Stoves, economical in fuel, ornamen tal in design, easy to manage and reasonable in price. Cook Stoves and Ranges in the latest and most approved patterns guaranteed. Sole agents tor the celebrated New Light- House Cook and Excelsior Penn, Othello and New Record Range*, also the New Golden Sun and Boynton 1882 Fire Place Heaters, the very best in the market. Keep on hand always a full line of HARDWARE, WOODENWARE, PAINTS, .OILS, GLASS, PLUMBERS’ AND GAS-FITTERS’ SUPPLIES. Manufacturers of all kinds of Tinware. Root ing and Spouting promptly attended to. Call and examine stock and learn prices, sept 9-tf A DESIRABLE TOWN PROP ERTY AT PRIVATE SALE. The subscriber offers at Private Sale the property upon which he now resides, situated on the corner of Green and Sycamore streets, Westminster, Md., immediately opposite the residence of Col. Wm. A. McKellip, con taining 3 Lots, fronting 158 feet on Green street and running back 198 feet on Sycamore street to an alley. There is also an alley on the West side of the property. It is improved by a pomfortable and well ar- J yykk. ranged Dwelling with 3 rooms, Kitchen and Pantry on the floor, and 4 chambers and bath”" 1 JMmr* room on second floor. There is also double porches, closets. Ac. Brick walks to pump, barn and to the street; cistern at the kitchen door, excellent well of water, brick smoke house, batik barn 40x40 feet, with carriage house attached, also new corn apd flog houses; all buildings in good repair and the property under good fencing. There is an abundance of choice fruit, ornamental trees and shrub bery, and a number of large and handsome shade trees, making it a very desirable and attractive home in summer. This property will be sold at a very reasonable price and oh easy terms. For further information apply to the undersigned, or to Dr. J. W. Henng, at the Union National Bank. L. C. TRUMBO. Wesiminster, Jan. 17th, 1885-tf QENTBAL DRUG STORE, OPPOSITE CATHOLIC CHURCH, Main Street, Westminster, Md, JOSEPH B. BOYLE, SUCCESSOR TO WELLS BROS., DEALER in Pure Drugs, Medicines, Chemicals, Perfumery, Fancy Articles, Hair and Tooth Brushes, Combs, Toilet Soups, Segars, Ac. Also Trusses and Shoulder Braces. Pure Paris Green for Destroying Potato Bugs. PURE WINES AND LIQUORS FOR MEDICAL PURPOSES. Patent Medicines, Horse and Cattle Powders, Ac, A fine assortment of STATIONERY. Physicians' orders promptly filled and Prescriptions carefully and accurately com pounded. mar 17tf QENEBAL AGENCY. We take this means of informing the public that we have opened a Real Estate Agency in Westminster, and will give special attention to the purchase and sale of Ileal Estate in Carroll and the adjoining counties, and to the renting of property and collection of rents, negotiating loans on mortgage, and all other business usually conducted by agencies of this kind. One of the members of the firm being a prac tical surveyor of large experience will continue his profession, and will also attend to all man ner of conveyancing, gearches, investigation of land titles, Ae-, on the most reasonable terms- Office in the building of the Carroll County Mutual Fire Insurance Company. WM. A. WAMPLER, jan 5 RICHARD MANNING. CENTRAL HOTEL, Corner Main and Centre Sts., WESTMINSTER, MD. JOHN MARSH, Proprietor, This Hotel, situated in the most convenient section of the city, in close proxrainity to the Court House, has recently been entirely refit ed and generally improved. First-class ac commodations are afforded to permanent or transient boarders. The Table, Bar and Stabling will be found equal to the best in the State, and the rates equal to the accom modation and the times. The proprietor ap- Ereciating the patronage of the past, extends is New Year'* greeting to his friends, old and new, and solicits a continuance of their encouragement. Special attention paid to Commercial Travellers. jan 3:ly Notice to tax payers—ah persons who have not paid their Taxes are requested to do so by the Ist of April, and save costs. I can be seen at Carrollton Station, W. Md. R. R., at any time, and at the Court House on the first Monday in April. JACOB M. LONG, m!4 3t Collector for Woolery's District. WESTMINSTER, MD, SATURDAY, MARCH 21, 1885. focfical. IN THE SPRING. When the spring returns and the days are long, % And the leaves arc green again, When the primrose laughs in the dusky glade, And the furze Ls abloom on the plain, Then my heart goes back to my childhood's home With its woven chestnut bowers, To the meadows sweet with the clover's breath, And the garden full of flowers. I roam In the twilight shades again When the fields are hushed and still. When the glow-worm shines in the dewy lane, And the round moon crests the hill, Then the great world seemed such n pleasant world, ’ Unsullied by tears or strife. That my heart would leap in the silence deep With joy In its own young life. And all the sorrow my soul hath known And all the tears X have shed Have come with the Autumn wind’s low moan When the Summer flow'rs lay dead. - But the beautiful Spring hath always been A time of release from pain. And of Joyful song when the days are long And the leaves are green again. • J<d i ■ I — ‘ ' From Belgravia. • A S BEF ORE. A SHETLAND STORY. CHAPTER I. The stranger at ray fireside cannot see The forms 1 see, nor hear the sounds I hear; He but perceives what is; while unto me All that has been is visible and clear. , —LongfeUo-w. A warm, bright, mirthful July morning. Early morning we Southerners would say I it was —not being used to a sunrise half an hour or so after midnight, as people in Shetland are during midsummer months. Mistress Sinclair is sitting in the sheepfold with a company of her women folks pluck ing the fine wool from the sheep. Wiry, active, petulant little animals they are, who quite spoil the character of their kind for patience. They want to be higher up on the hillside, to taste its sweet herbage ! while the dew yet lingers. Why should they submit to this rude mauling by mere women, whose absurd chattering and laugh ! ter mars so wilfully the chorus of the re bellious bleating ? Like wise sheep, how ever, the fathers and mothers of the flock reckon t hat the less they struggle the sooner shall they win to the hills again. Not so the youngsters. They won’t be fleeced without a struggle. A peal of laughter echoes among the rocks and one bold fellow who is but half plucked breaks away from the arms of Mis tress Sinclair herself, and, rushing at the fold gate, clears it in a twinkling, and bounds up the hill with a nimbleness un known among our heavier English muttons. A young girl leaps up and is after him instantly. It will be a smart race methinks ; yet I would back the sheep ; for he, cun ning rogue, will skip across many a patch of treacherous bog that even the light foot of Bena Sinclair must not touch. The laughter and the murmur of busy tongues below in the sheepfold grow faint er ; still the girl pursues that wilful crea ture, for she sees that it has but the sagac ity of a sheep after all, and although stop ping now and again to pluck a mouthful of heather just for defiance sake apparently, is making straight for a spot where the grey rock rises abruptly some twenty feet or so to bar further progress. “Ye’ll hae ta come back ta my arms, my bonnie lambie,” says Bena to herself, as she warily shifts her ground a little, in case he should change his purpose ere it was too late, and escape by doubling down the hill side. “Ah ! —yon man is na welcome!” she exclaims in a tone of vexation. A young man mounted on a Shetland pony suddenly has emerged from the mist which lies farther up the hill. His appearance has done just what she feared might happen. The er rant sheep has come to a standstill, before : entering that cul de sac. But her expression of annoyance had scarcely left Bena’s lips before a rich flush of pleasure spread over her face. Magnus, Magnus ! my lamb,” she cried, clasping her hands in mock despair, “Ye’ll be driving him awa.” Not so, however. By a dexterous flank movement, which only a Shetland pony could have been trusted to make among those rocks, the young horseman shut off what chance remained for the wanderer of escaping down hill. Then he jumped from his pony, and with merry eagerness the maiden and he raced after the lamb to gether. It was soon caught. Thereupon Bena, holding the truant tightly in her arms, sat down on a mossy mound to rest awhile. Magnus Laurie might well look with ad miring fondness upon that bright and beautiful face; ay, with contentment, too ; for he, lucky fellow ! had already learnt from Bena herself that she would not mind sharing the bitter and the sweet of life with him—some day. The day will be one of sore tribulation for the lads of North Mavine, and of hopeful contentment for the lasses, since Bena Sinclair, in virtue of her position as the acknowledged beauty of the parish, is a sort of “unknown quantity” in most of the lovemaking thereabouts. To be just to her, she was quite guiltless of any coquetry, but she could not hinder the bewitchment of those dark, lustrous eyes of hers, which were all the more fascinating that they were so rare among Scandinavian people, as the Shetlanders are. Tradition reports that shipwrecked Spaniards of the Great Armada settled in those wild northern isles, and have left traces of them selves in the features and bearing of some of the present inhabitants. This might possibly explain why the maiden sitting there seemed in looks and ways so much more a child of the sunny south than of storm-beaten Thule. “I thought I was your lamb, Bena, when you called to me,” said Magnus, as he watched how she alternately caressed and chid with mischievous earnestness the little creature in her arms. “You!” A merry ripple of laughter and a toss of the dainty head followed this ex clamation. Then sheadded quickly, “You are a sheep for thinking so, Magnie.” “I won’t deny being a sheep just now, for I shall follow you, my darling, instead of running away as that silly lamb did.” “Nay, that ye will not,” said Bena, jump ing to her feet suddenly. “The lasses down yonder in dashecpfold will jist bother i me all da morn, and—and say ” “What will they say?” “That I jist ran awa to meet ye.” Custom supported Bena in her unwill ingness that her betrothed should bear her company back to the fold. Shetland maidens take credit to themselves in not being found out in their courting. People may suspect as much as they like, but until the wedding day is actually fixed Bena will ; be amusingly ignorant of the fact that her heart is not her own. Such is her present intention, at any rate. Magnus Laurie had been south, as far as Edinburgh. Indeed he was then on a month’s holiday from his business of civil engineering. He had lost faith in some of the customs of his native land.. Especially in this one that would rob him of Bena’s society. Who, out of Shetland, will blame him ? “My poor child,” he said, laughing, “you are the slave of a most horrible su perstition. You shan't be any longer. Besides, I was on my way to ask your brother for some flies. Buawater Lock is full of trout, and I mean to have a few this morning. Now, isn’t it absurd that I should linger here another half hour just to please a silly fashion ?” “To please me, Magnus,” said Bena, coloring. “But ye talk of fishing,” she added quickly ; “that minds me that one o' my father’s haaf boats at Feathaland needs a man for dis night’s work. Will ye no gang awa’ wid dem for once ?” To do Bena justice, she was not trying to gain her end, of returning alone, by say ing this. Simply some thoughts—not al together pleasing ones, for her face had grown serious as she spoke—had been re vived, when he mentioned his purpose of going fishing. “Na, na, 1 canna go dis day,” said Mag nus earnestly. He had fallen unconsci ously into the old Shetland talk. “Why?”—those Spanish eyes flashing upon him as he spoke. “Becas —canna du guess, Benna?—my grandmidder wishes for my company dis afternoon and night.” Bena shook her head. Tears were in her eyes, and her voice quivered as she re plied ; “Magnie, I dinna ask ye lightly, but becas some folks say ye hae grown too proud in Edinbro’ to work wid puir fishers at the haaf —and—and —I wall say it—an’ ye ll ken what I feel. Some jist hint (among the lasses, I mean) that Magnus Laurie no has da heart of a true Shetland lad for da bonnie deep sea. It is na true, it is no true.” “It is na true. I'll go ta dis night’s haaf,” said Magnus, quietly, “and ye shall hae your own way about dat ither matter. I will jist ride away ta da fishing station and gie a hand wie the tackle.” “Bena’s face was lighted up with bright content as she kissed him and said ; “Ye arc my lamb, Magnus.” A white mist was coming down the hill side as she ran nimbly towards the sheep fold with her truant in her arms; it pur sued her, and she was lost to sight. Sky and sea and land also disappeared as Mag- [ nua still looked the way she had gone. 1 Then suddenly the solemn ocean appeared | far off in its loneliness. The homelands below the hills, with their gray cottages and green corn patches, were yet visible. The young man sighed heavily as he mounted his pony and rode northwards to the fishing station. When Bena entered the sheepfold again, 1 she fully expected a scolding from her mother for wasting so much time on one iamb. It was an agreeable surprise, there- | fore, that she was allowed to sit down and complete the plucking of the little animal j without any comment being made on her : absence. This was probably due to the | fact that Mistress Sinclair’s maternal pride i had just been gratified by one of her as sistants remarking, as Bena appeared in sight; “Dy lass has a wonderfu’ wull, Mistress. She niver give up onything she sets her mind ta.” No one guessed how uneasy the owner of this “wonderful will” was as the day wore on for her recent exercise of it on Magnus Laurie. She felt very happy that he had done her bidding; proud, also, of her own power, as all maidens are when the sweet compulsion of love is strikingly successful. Yet she felt there was some thing strange in the way Magnus had obeyed. He was so serious, almost dis tressed, as he parted from her. Why didn’t he laugh her out of her tearful trouble about the whisperings of those ma licious lasses ? She loved him for his at- j tention to his aged relative, but surely he could not have been unhappy because old j Ruth Laurie would be without his com pany for one night? That would be | carrying affection for a grandmother a little i too far. The upshot of these cogitations was that Bena decided to spend the evening with Mistress Ruth. It would be both pleasant apd kind to do so, and Magnus, on his re turn from the haaf fishing, would be grati fied at her thoughtfulness. Accordingly, about five o’clock in the afternoon, Bena slipped out of the house quietly and ran along the northern shore of the voe, or bay, of North Roe for about a quarter of a mile. Then mounting a hillock, a long strip of meadow land, all golden with buttercups, lay before her. Beyond were the hills, piled one on the back of the other. Warm purple heather clad them entirely at the lower part, but farther up they seemed sown thickly with masses of light gray rock. The smoke of a cottage was curling up out of a hollow near the bt&e of these buirgs, at Shetland ers call the hills. In that cottage lived Mistress Ruth Laurie. She had long been a “widow-wife” —to use the quaint phrase I of the islands—and Magnus was her only descendant. “Howbcest du, Mistress?” said Bena as she entered. “Ales ! no sae blithe as a bodie sud be, expectin’ ye, Bena. my lass. “Expecting me !” echoed the girl in a surprised tone. Then, observing a twinkle in Mistress Ruth’s eye, she playfully shook her by the shoulder, and added : “It ill becomes an auld wife to gie herscl’ to flat tery.” “Troth, lass, ’tis na sich thing. My [ bairn Magnie tauld mo dis morn, dat ye wad drink a dish o’ tay wid me dis night; I I guess dy lad is na far awa jist noo.” “My lad!” repeated Bena, lightly, though she could not help blushing. “Ye are a very wise women, Mistress Ruth, ta ken mair den ” “Whist, lass. Do ye tink Magnus has na tauld me?” Then she took Bena’s face between her hands and kissed her tenderly, adding, “Ye sail baith hae my blessing dis solemn night.” Bena’s conscience smote her, as she re membered what she had done that morning. She glanced at the little table and then at the hearth. Evidently a special meal had been prepared by Mistress Ruth, and Mag nus was now miles away on the sea! “It is jist my blame, grandmidder,” she faltered. “What is dy blame?—dat my bairn has been sae long catching da trouts ?” in quired the old woman, affectionately. Then noticing the penitent look on Bella’s face, she exclaimed with abrupt energy — “Whar is Magnus ?” Bena might be evasive enough where love matters were concerned, it was the cus tom ; but her nature was sincere, and she now felt there was nothing for it but to confess whither Magnus was gone, just to please her. “One o’ my faither’s haaf boats She did not complete the sentence. Her aged companion had sunk back in her low chair, and burying her face in her withered hands was groaning piteously. “What hae I done ? what hae I done? wailed Bena, throwing herself at the feet of Mistress Ruth. “Ye hae sent my bairn to his doom, lass. It is twenty years ago, dlsvarra night—ye ken what.” Then the grandmother of Magnus Lau rie rose suddenly, and tottered toward the door of the cottage muttering as she went: “Yea, beyond the Ramna Stacks—farth er and son—under the cold sea—locked in each other’s arms.” CHAPTER 11. “Give way, laddies ! der’s young bluid in da boat, an' we should be da first ta reach da point dis efternoon." “Hey ! hey!” The crew bent to their oars as Jemmie Hewison appealed to them, more like men who had staked heavily on the result of a rowing match than like sober fishers. The “Sixern” sprang forward un der the impulse of half a dozen pairs of strong arms as though it sympathized with their efforts. Whatever misgivings Magnus Laurie felt as he parted from Bena in the morning had been conquered hours ago by that all powerful instinct for seafaring which is in born with every true Shetlander. Nay, more than this, the young man had begun to feel a certain gladness of heart in eman cipating himself from the superstitious as sociations of that particular day. He had laughed at Bena for her deference to Shet land notions about courtship. On return ing from the haaf fishing he could —not exactly laugh at the dear old soul whose life was bound up in his—but, gently im press on her that another superstition, about fatal anniversaries, might be thankfully put aside. “Yes, she will feel more cheerful about me to know that the spell has been brok en,” Magnus said to himself, as earlief in the day, he sat among a crowd of fishermen baiting the hooks for the short lines. “It seems a brutish thing to do to leave her all alone, but she will never dream what I am doing, and common sense says that I am acting kindly to her, if it is in a rather rough way, poor old creature. Not more rough than the way a surgeon acts, when he cuts deeply in order to avert years of lingering pain,” The bold fishers around Magnus while he thus soliloquised, with more or less of Edinboro’ sophistry, had plenty of common sense; yet I venture to affirm that not a man of them would have consented to his putting forth from Feathaland on that par ticular day had they known what he did. Twenty years and more had passed since his father and grandfather perished togeth er; and, alas ! such events are too common in those storm-girt islands to be long re membered save by the bereaved ones. Many families accept as a bitter truth the proverb that “none of their men die in their beds.” But to return. Full thirty boats were eagerly pressing out seawards that after noon, and Jemmie Hewison’s craft, doubt less owing to the “youngbluid” of the lat est addition to her crew, bade fair to be the first to begin the haaf fishing. When they started, the blue sea seemed j no more than slightly corrugated, as it were, by the gentle puffing of the wind, i which came and went fitfully. The sky above was a calm expanse of bluish gray, dashed here and there with streaks and patches of faintest yellow. The sun had liidden himself somewhere behind those clouds southwards, but only that he might shoot his rays into them, causing these rays to spread in a soft shimmer of light upon distant hills, whereby the heather —modest drab or brown by nature —became a mass of shining gold. At length the glory upon the hills died away; the clouds gathered themselves into sombre mountain forms; and the wind gave up playing and settled into a steadier mood. “I tink we canna do better dan hoist da sail,” remarked Jemmie Hewison. “Noo, Magnus, do thou help at da halyards, if du hasna forgotten dy sea-craft since du hast been a gran’ Scotch jontleman.” “Na, na, skipper,” said Magnus, laugh i ing,” I’m no Scot yet, but true Norse, bone and bluid, like yersel.” The oars were shipped, the little mast raised, the shrouds braced, and the brown sail run up on the “raekie ’ (half-circle of wood that attaches it to the mast). Then the “Stormy Petrel,” after a preliminary shake, as though she felt the need of arous ing herself to further effort, heeled over slightly, and flew before the breeze. “Dis will jist about do for da haddocks, ” remarked the skipper to his crew generally, after sailing for half an hour or so. “I wonder if da fresh hand will bring luck whin we cast for da baits ? ’ “Ay, Jemmie, my man, dat will he—a haddock on every hook,” exclaimed Mag nus, boldly. As he spoke he busied him self in getting ready one of the smaller “packies,” or bundles of line which had been already baited with limpets. By means of these the Shetland fisher catches, a few miles from shore, the bait (haddocks chief ly) which is presently to be proffered to the epicurean cod and ling far out at sea. “Da laddie's leethful (active) and handy, Eric,” observed Jemmie Hewison to the fisher —a big fair man with a tremendous beard —who sat on the thwart beside him, ! slowly pulling the boat as the line was paid ! out. “Yah; an’ as like his puir father as one I side o’ dis boat is ta da other,” replied Eric Ericson. “A stately lad was Ronald Laurie.” “Wis na auld Gibbie Laurie an’ his son : Ronald drowned togither, hereabouts ?” inquired Hewison. “I wis sailin’ to da Indies, ye ken, till some ten years agone.” “Norrard iv da ‘Stacks’ yonder; day wis found jist cuddling each ither like twa I bairns asleep. But dinna talk o’ da mat ter, Jemmie, der’s na luck in it; ’specially whan yon lad is in da boat. “I niver thought o’ dat, noo, responded Hewison in a whisper. “Eric, we must pass da word roun’ to da lads to be varra earefu’ o’ Ronald Laurie’s bairn.” In the meanwhile Magnus was too ea gerly engaged in casting out the haddock baits to pay any attention to what hadjusl been said respecting the death of his father and grandfather. He and the rest of the crew had just finished their task and cast over the “bower” (buoy) which marked the limit of the lines, as Jemmie and Eric closed their dialogue. The line being paid out. the boat’s head was turned, and Magnus’s prediction proved to be pretty near the truth. For the next hour haddocks in abundance (many of them of a size for which, in a cured state, Mr. Sweeting would expect eighteenpenee) were tumbled over the boat’s side, and quickly cut up to bait the long lines. Tins task finished, the boat was again put about, and with hoisted sail once more made boldly for a cod bank some ten miles from the Feathaland point. This reached, the fishers settled down steadily to the task of paying out the long lines, four or five miles in extent. At length, about half past nine, the “bower” was thrown over, and those well-wearied toilers of the sea gathered in the stern of the boat for their supper of tea-kettle tea and bannocks. “I sud like to see dat bid cloud awa’ norrards splitting up a perie (little) bit, Eric,” muttered the skipper, as he scanned the horizon with experienced eye, before applying himself to the eating and drinking. “Ay, dat would I, Jemmie. ’Tis a’ varra weel fir da sun ta paint it sa bonnily, bit dat winna coax it into good humor if it is inclined ta mischief.' It was truely a glorious sunsetting. i- With that yearning for mutual delight in e beautiful things which true love evokes, t: Magnus, as he looked, was hoping that i- Bena would not miss the sight. The sun n was going down behind a vast mountain of deep-blue cloud, golden-cappcd, which seemed to be separated by a jagged valley from that more northern cloud mountain of x which Hewison had spoken; while along the whole western horizon were spread out r exquisite masses of colour; here inky blues, t there pale gold and brown, there again hills of purple. To the eastward a calm mass r of neutral tints lay upon the waves, the gentler reflection of those splendors of the f west. Presently the humeen or twilight [j would come, but in calm weather never, at that season, utter darkness save under the e solemn sea. ~ youngest of the boat’s crew, “blaw away at the peats, my bairn, an’ put da kettle on; we must hae supper as weel as da ling ’ and cod.down below.” “But ye canna mak’ as big a meal as ony one of da fishes, Jemmie,” interposed j Magnus, quickly. “Troth, dat will I, look you,” said the skipper with a grin, begging at once. t “Na, but ye’ll hae to stop presently, man; and da mair da fishes eat of da supper we hae given hem de mair dey wall be able to t hold, ye ken.” Y “Hoo?” “To da hooks, ye ken.” t A general laugh greeted this sally. The . brains of those blithe children of the north ! were quickened to emulate it, and soon joke j and story, saga tale and fairy tale, made t that fishermen’s evening meal in an open r boat, north of all Britain, as merry as were [ the feasts of their Viking ancestors in Jarl [ Rollo’s hall. r Too quickly, it seemed, did the skipper j bid them stow away kettle and tin panni ! kins and commence pulling in the lines, p Magnus clambered forward to take an oar. Jemmie Hewison himself, after a prelimi -2 nary hoist at his trousers, catches hold of f the line, while Eric Ericson, the fair-bearded j , man, stands at his side armed with a “hug t gie staff.” Some thirty fathoms were 3 pulled in while the boat was being rowed . slowly landwards. Then the line tightened. Eric lends a hand at the line; they pull and 3 pull; and lo ! a mighty ling nfearly five feet . in length struggles at the surface of the , water. In another moment he is hooked . deftly by the “huggie staff,” and is sighing heavily at the bottom of the boat, j “Dat’s no sae ill for a beginning,” said r the skipper, “It’s Magnus wi’ hig luck again.” ; So it seemed, for cod and ling of all sizes came in quick succession for the next hour, and the boat was well ballasted with fish. A sudden exclamation from Magnus ar > i rested the attention of his companions, who, eager and excited about their successful 1 haul, had ceased to watch the weather, t That northern cloud mountain, respecting which the skipper was a little anxious as \ they were beginning their meal, had, as he hoped, broken up; but the dispersal was j only temporary; since there had been a 1 slow, steady deepening of the mass of sky . on all sides, so gradual indeed that the t change was scarcely perceptible. But far 3 away in the north, dense black battalions i of cloud had swiftly formed, and were t fiercely pursuing each other. It was this j ominous sight that drew a hurried excla i mation from the lips of the young man. 1 Hewison looked up, and in an instant re • alized the situation. [ “Bear ahead, men, and tear the lines in | as fast as ye can,” he cried, i It was no question now whether or no , ! fish were on the lines. Fathom after j i fathom was drawn in, the fish being left on t the hooks. Presently it became dangerous to take any more on board, and ling and - cod were torn off and flung away as they 3 appeared. Soon the rest of the lines had to be abandoned, for a sudden wild shriek t j of the wind filled all hearts with dread, and i caused Eric and the skipper to look at each ■ other, and then at Magnus, with a pitiful i sadness. He, like the others, had thrown off sou’-wester and jacket, in order to row - more freely. His flaxen hair was stream • ing in the wind, showing all the breadth of that white brow, from under which his eyes ’ now gleamed with a sort of hopeless ear , neatness. All the fateful traditions of his . boyhood had rushed in upon his soul with ; the fury and suddenness of that outer storm, and he felt himself doomed to die, l as his father and grandfather before him, 1 ■ amid the wild waste of these terrible north ■ ern seas. His one concern now was that • these brave companions might not share his I I fate. > Silently the crew now fitted the mast once more and hoisted the sail. Then, ■ with her gunwales almost level with the 1 seething sea, the little “Sixern” seemed to | glide from one wave to another. It was a 1 • time for Shetland seamanship to be put to ; the test. Jemmie Hewison held the helm. : Two of the crew stood at the halyards and : j lowered the sail or took in a reef from time I to time, as occasion required. Magnus and the other two crouched down amidships, ■ ready to relieve their companions when ne l cessary. In the hands of the skipper were I the lives, humanly speaking, of all on board. Billow after billow rushed upjn that i frail boat, clamouring for it as a prey. Then the wind seemed to toss the boat i scornfully outof the grasp of those ravening 1 waves—soitappeared. But Jemmie Hew j ison does not deem his craft at the mercy . of the elements yet. In his quaint way he i would say, “Na, na, I had her in hand all dat time. She jist did as I felled her.” Being a fast-sailing boat, the “Stormy Petrel” soon distanced her ranksman in the j , fishing fleet that had left the ground with . her. For a long time the two boats had j kept up communication by means of signals, while such were possible, and afterwards j by blowing on the horn. But the sea mists j were becoming so dense, and the roar of the i wind and waves so great, that speedily this slight token of human sympathy with a common peril was gone, and alone under the ever-darkening heavens the “Stormy Petrel” bore on. Soon there came fresh danger. Owing to the tide running counter to the wind, a heavy cross sea set in, to meet which re quired all the nautical skill and self-com mand Hewison possessed. Now he would tighten the sheet and let the boat fly from some tremendous billow which threatened to engulf them; or, putting the helm hard down, he brought the boat right up in the eye of the wind, that it might take on the bow some short lump of sea which had risen on her quarter too near for her to fly from it. “Mak’ ready for da worst, brithers!” suddenly cried the skipper. Instinctively those who could clutched each at one of the oars lying in the boat. A slackening of the sheet and a strange stillness in the atmosphere had drawn this i warning cry from the skipper. The boat had fallen into the trough of the sea, and the mainsail was flapping idly against the i mast. With the quickn'iss of thought Jemmie i Hewison jerked the sheet line till all the canvas stood taught and stiff. Then,plac- i ing his foot firmly against one of the boards, i and grasping the helm tightly, he settled 1 back in his seat and waited the issue of ; this last effort of seamanship. i Shivering from stem to stern and rolling like a drunken man, the “Stormy Petrel" soon began to mount the wave. Like an age seemed the few moments in which she was rising almost perpendicularly to the sea. Again there was that ominous calm. A majestic, unbroken mountain of sea came rolling swiftly on from behind, dragging her down, down, stern first! Youth cannot but rebel against fate. Magnus Laurie sat still with folded arms in the bow of the boat, as the skipper bade his crew make make ready for the worst. It seemed vain for him to stqve to evade death. Yet, when he found himself among the folds of the mainsail as it was being sucked down by that merciless wave, he held his breath and fought desperately, though with a swimmer’s skill, to reach the surface. And he succeeded, and his thoughts turned lifewards once more. He could see nothing of his late companions, when with strange calmness he swam on as gently as those buffeting waves would let him, but, perhaps because his senses were quickened by his danger, he heard faintly the sound of a horn. A fishing boat was not far off. He tried to struggle in the direction of the sound, but it grew fainter. He tried to look up; there seem ed more light, though the waves had not abated their fury. Magnus was reckoned a bold swimmer. Perhaps he might keep himself afloat for half an hour—barely. Then arose in his heart that prayer which seafarers through long ages have uttered— “ Out of the depths do I cry unto Thee, 0 Lord!” The answer came with terror. A water logged boat seemed to rush out of the mist of sea and air. Feebly poor Magnus struggled towards it and caught hold of the stern post. It was the “Stormy Pe trel.” Her mast had snapped off as she sank, and. with the wonderful buoyancy of those almost crescent-shaped Shetland skiffs, she had risen to the surface again. But, alas! where were her hapless crew? Magnus durst not, however, in her pres ent condition do more than fasten a stray line i under his arm, and be carried along with i the boat. The storm continued to abate, i and there came a sense of utter, hopeless solitude to that poor youth which was far worse even than the desparing struggle so lately made. Hour after hour passed and still there was but the half-gloom of that gray sky above, and the weary sea around. Magnus began to fall into a kind of stupor, and then the bodies of his fisher friends seemed to be rising and falling with the motion of the waves. It was horrible. Suddenly three great masses of rock : loomed in the distance. They were the Ramna Stacks, where his father and grandfather had perished together. With facinated gaze Magnus stared as the boat to which he was bound steered f towards them. Then he uttered one wild despairing cry, and all became dark ; to him. “How long were you kept on earth af ter I died, grandmidder?” These were his first words when the darkness cleared away, and he saw the face of Ruth Lau rie bending over him. Then Bena seemed to be there also, and he added, “I knew you would come, Bena.” Suddenly darkness fell upon him again, but not so terrible as before. With bated breath men still talk of the rescue of Magnus Laurie. Briefly let me record it as it happened. With the earliest burst of the storm, i the wives and daughters, mothers and sweethearts, of the fishermen had gather ed at the Feathaland fishery station; but as their fears for their men increased, re gardless of the raging wind and pouring rain, they left the shelter of the huts and climbed to an eminence hard by, whence the raging sea migh be scanned far and wide. Ruth Laurie was there already with the poor girl who unwittingly had brought this almost hopeless sorrow to the lonely woman. There was a great shout of joy ae the first boat to weather the storm was ' seen on the horizon, at about nine in the morning. Yet even then every eye was j turned towards auld Ruth Laurie in sin cere pity when it was discovered that the boat was not the “Stormy Petrel.” Soon after the other boats appeared, and the crowd of women and children rushed down to the strand, leaving auld Ruth and Bena alone, gazing with strained, tearless eyes upon the waste of waters, now like a | vast snowfield by reason of the foam churn ed by the recent storm. Ruth was look j ing forth towards the Ramna Stacks, as though they would somehow tell her the secret of her grandson’s doom. In one of the boats just arrived lay Jemmie Hewison and Eric Ericson, their faces ghastly and swollen. They had clung to the wreckage of the mast until picked up by one of the other boats, when the storm abated a little. Of Magnus they knew nothing; and none cared to go to tell j these two helpless women this. Suddenly, a young girl, bareheaded and I j barefooted, burst through the crowd on the ; beach, and wringing her hands cried im ploringly— “ Will naebody come an’ help? Granny Ruth an’ Bena Sinclair hae baith gone by j der minds! Dey have tacn to da face o’ ! the cliff to gang to da Easter Sands." For a moment none answered. All were I dismayed and bewildered by the news. Then brave Jemmie Hewison broke the j spell, and rising on his elbow said: “Tak’ i ropes, brithers and follow. May be da | Lord —”—he could say no more, but sank back wearily again. Yes. it was not madness, but the despair- i i irig love of those two women which had i i led them to descend the face of that beet ; ling cliff under which lay the Easter Sands. | Whether it was Ruth or Bena I know not, j | hut one of them had seen a boat floating j into one of the eddies down below, and | banging over the stern of that boat was a man’s body. His face was the face of Magnus Laurie. The fishermen who had rushed up to the brow of the cliff leant over cautiously and beheld the two women below already struggling towards the boat hand in hand. Every receding wave lay bare the blood-red roots of seaweeds, whose myriad arms, lifted by the returning waters lashed their faces and twined around them in many a slimy fold. Rut they felt not and saw not, save that Mangus lay there before them, his fair locks dripping and his grey eyes fast closed. They reached him and essayed to lift him out of the reach of the waves that yet dashed upon the boat to which he bad clung. Those above, however, had already fixed a stake on the edge of the cliff, and had attached a long stout rope to it. By means of this, four nimble fishers descend ed, oars being lowered after them. They beckoned to the heroic women to remain where they were, beside the boat. They quickly reached it, and, by baling out as best they could, got it off the rocks. Then tenderly placing the exhausted man in its stern, with those devoted women beside him, they rowed cautiously out and round to the fishing station. Mangus had been rescued not a moment too soon. Though he had escaped death in the deep and stormy sea, he was like to have been drowned in some shallow pool as the boat swayed among the rocks and seaweed below Easter Sand. VOL. XX.-N 0.19. ; When he opened his eyes once more in one of the boats at Feathalaud, it seemed i to him that he must have passed beyond s death, and that the beloved ones must have ! joined him. Only by degrees did he real , ize where he was, and that his good grand > midder and Bena had brought him back to ; themselves, when none other had dreamt that he had escaped the fate of his father . and grandfather before him. j r— * ♦ ! History of Gloves. , Gloves do not appear to have been worn ' in England before the end of the tenth or I beginning of the eleventh century, and the j manufacture would appear at that time specially German, as five pairs of gloves ’ made a considerable part of the duty paid , to the English sovereign, Ethelred 11. , (979-1016,) by a society of German mer chants, for protection of their trade in that | country, a proof of their great rarity. Their previous absence is easily accounted ( for by tbe fact that the long sleeves of the [ gowns supplied their place by being brought r over the hand, and the cloak or mantle was | made to answer the same purpose. It is , remarkable that no gloves are visible in the Bayeux tapestry; not even on the hands of Harold, who carries a hawk. Wace, * the Norman poet, tells a story of Raoul , Taisson, Lord of Cinguelis, playfully strik ing William of Normandy with his glove previous to the battle of Valesdeur, in 1,- 047; and in 1066 the gloves of Conan, Duke of Brittany, were poisoned, at the instigation, it was strongly suspected, of the unscrupulous Duke William aforesaid; but it is certainly not before tbe thirteenth century that gloves became generally worn ■ in England. At the latter part of that century the young Normans covered their hands with gloves too long and wide for doing anything needful. The effigies of Henry 11. and Richard I. at Fontevraud display gloves with jewels on the back of them; and when King John's coffin was opened in 1797, at Worcester, jeweled gloves were found on his hands. Jeweled gloves were also worn by the dignified clergy, and appear to have been of white silk or lineq, and beautifully cm. broidered. Those which were worn by William of Wykeham, and are still pre served at New College, Oxford, are of a red silk, with the sacred monogram, sur rounded by a glory, in gold on the backs. At what time it became the custom to change the color of the gloves according to the color of the vestments is not known, j Gloves had come into general use in the ; fourteenth century among the better classes, who were accustomed to carry them in their hands. It is not, however, till the sixteenth century that we find constant al lusions to and frequent representations of them in portraits. Gloves were customary New-Year gifts in the sixteenth century, but, being more expensive than ail could afford to purchase, money was given instead, wbich was called “glove-money.” The short sleeves of the ladies’ dresses in the reign of Charles 11. introdnoed the j long kid glove, which has now, after an in-. I terval, again become fashionable. Gloves trimmed with lace are mentioned by Eve lyn in his description of a lady’s toilet, and a contemporary poet mentions : Some of chicken-skins for night, To keep their hands plump, soft and white. Long gloves are seen in the portrait of Mary, consort, of William 111., and a pair of thread gloves occur in the inventory of a lady’s wardrobe in 1707. Many ancient recipes are extant for the perfuming of gloves, and in an old French work published at Lyons in 1657 the pre cise directions for “Civitte tres exquise j pour parfumer gands et en vindre les mains” are given. In these compositions musk, ambergris, and civet were the chief perfumes, and as they were applied inside the gloves, combined with a sort of oil or j grease, their use at the present day would be thought intolerable. In the middle of ; the last century tbe glovers of Paris were I also the chief perfumers, and constituted a considerable community, having statutes and laws dating back as far as 1190. Per -1 fumed skins were imported from Spain and Italy for the making of gloves, and were very expensive and “fort it la mode,” but their powerful odor led to their disuse, and ! frangipani and neroli became the only per fumes in fashion for gloves. And here we may remark that frangipani owes its renown to its inventor, a Marquis Frangi -1 pani, a member of a very ancient and illus | trious family of Rome, and who was a mar shal in the armies of Louis XIII. What the composition was that gained for the | marquis so much reputation is not now known, but all sorts of utterly differ ent perfumes are to this day sold under that name. Gloves were frequently held out in promi nent places in ancient times at fairs, in token of friendship to all comers. In the city of Chester, especially, that being a place fa i mous for the manufacture of gloves, it was | the custom for some days before and during the continuance of the fair to bring out from the town hall their local emblem of ! commerce, a glove, thereby proclaiming j that non-freemen and strangers were per mitted to trade within the city, a privilege I at all other times enjoyed by the citizens ! alone. A pretty little incident connected with gloves in ancient times is the circumstance that Charles IV., king of Spain, was so much under the influence of any lady who i wore white kid gloves,-that the use of them lat court was strictly prohibited. Modern royalty is not so fantastical. In the time of Louis XV. of France the I ladies at their toilet thought nothing of i destroying half a dozen pairs of gloves bc- I fore they got one pair to fit. They were I made of white skins, but ornamented with | little ribbons and fine rosettes. English sewn gloves were in the greatest request, I and it used to be a common saying that for a glove to be good three kingdoms must contribute to it—Spain for the leather, France for the cutting, and England for the sewing. Servants are cheap and plenty in Mex ico, and you are pretty sure to have several descendants of the Aztec kings about the house if you hire one. for it is the rule that the whole family accompany the father or mother who goes out to service. \our cook brings her husband, her children, and pretty nearly all her relations, and they are fed from your table and sleep under your roof. The husband may be a shoemaker, or a saloon keeper, or a hackman, but he lives where his wife works. There are usually rooms enough in the house for them all, and the only food they want is plenty of beans and what is left from your own table. Jenny Lind is described as one of the most active members of the College of Music in London. Her duties as a teacher are discharged in the most thorough and conscientious way, as she arrives early at her professional post, and remains often an hour or two beyond the required time. She is very strict, but at the same time sympathetic with her scholars, who in re turn for her devotion to their interests are said to adore her. To be wise before the act is better than to philosophize on it afterward.