Morris tribune. [volume], September 21, 1882, Image 3

About Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000

Image provided by: Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

                
A SKA SIDE IDYL.
When the rammer broezos mingle
Perfumes with the l.idt-n air.
And the honeyavrklc blossoms
Spread their n-agrauc* everywhere
Jost within the broad veranda,
la a shady, cool retreat.
La v our hero. Dick, reclining,
Eunuied, o'ercome with heat
Hark! a step upon the carpet,
"Coming hore. By Jove, it's Lai
Happy thought! I'll feign a slumber.
Just to see what she will dok"
And his eyelide then desoeuded
O'er his laughinehazM eves.
And with blissful expectation
There he waited for the prize.
Nearer, nearer came the footstep^
Lightly as a fairy's tend.
While within his wicked
ambush
Richard waited for the end.
Boftly thev approach the s)fa,
Surely he it is they seek:
Acd. surprised and joyed, he felt a'
Timid kiss upon his cheek!
Thrilled with fond imagination,
tTp he sprang with ardor then.
And, with love's own burning passion.
Clapped—his faithful pointer. Hen!
Clasped him with d-licious triumph,
Tressed him foudlv to his breast.
Then with madness fazed npon him—
Well, we will omit the rest!
ERNA.
Deep blrto eyes, large and tonder rauo«i. ank
shining of goldan hair, lips aa exquisite as
-aver were sung by poot, and lending by their
great beauty the erowuing charm to an almost
perfect face. This vision that brightened foi
ine my life in the grim old manor-house might
hare been rsyclit?, lighted upoi. English ground
in her search for Cupid, but a Psyche to whom
Love, as yet, was nothing but a n.-ino.
1 would have given life itself to have heard
her in the last hour of it confess ma uear to
her, to have had on© kiss from those perfect
lips, as I l*r dying, pressed ou mine. But
when I had half hinted at my ma luess, half
looked it, she had shrank from me, and snatch
ing hand from the clasp in wbL-'a 1 prisoned it,
hid said to me very decidedly: "So, Gerald.
If you would not have me remember how vary
•distant our consulship is, never dare apeak of
tms to me agaiu." And I never had, being in
my love for her very much of a coward but
the eager hunger was always there. And she
caw it, I think, and seemed sometimes half to
mock at, sometimes to resent my iove.
It was happiness—a happiness, though, that
came strangely near to pain—to ha thrown so
much in her society as in tho summer that fol
lowed her curt rejection of my suit. I had
bo HI !l:ing in a wrestled for honors atCambrtdge
and had reaped a fever instead, which had near
ly landed me where failure cannot disturb When.
I had tottered a few feeble steps back from
death's door iuto the way of life agaiu, there
came to me a great happiness. Erua and I had
met until now only during the rare visits that
k.» father paid to the pretty villa, west from
.London, wh*re my mother had lived quietly
during the ten jears of her widowhood. They
w«-e distant cousins, and had been lovers long
ago: or rather on his bide there had been love,
faintly responded to on hers and at last she
.d broken o£T the engagement with a plea
of relationship. He left her, and for many
years they did not meet again but think
he was uever able either to forgiva or to for
get.
How is it when into onr life there comes a
bitterness like this—when we marry, ana wak
ing in the dead of night see uot the face that
lies on the marriage-pillow beside us, but other
eyes that look on us tenderly and sweetly out
of tho darkless of the long ago? I put ques
tions of this kind to myself many times, 1 well
remember, in the summer when tho happiness
I speak of came to nie—that time when her
father's invitation to visit the
old Devon manor
house beiug given and accepted. Erua andilived
week after week under the same gray roof, and
I gathered strength in drinking i'i light that
laughed on rae from her eys, ami strolled wtth
her in the Devon woods or lioated with oar and
sail amid the dream-like loveliness of the
Dart
She had kindnes*. tenderest, {rarest temper
all tlie time that nnue was stilt but iheghost of
a life but as I changed gradually to something
more nearly resembling my old self. Eraa be
?an to charge, too, ana was presently almost
the same stiange, provoking girl I had known
in days when I laid my heart at Lei feet only
be trampled oa. I wouid not repeat the fol
ly to be scorned ouce by any lips, however
.lovely, was enongh.
We were alone in the garden ono morning,
and I was thinking this and at tho F«nu time
how rare was the Leauty of her fac-, wliea she
looked up and our eves met. bi.e did not
blush or turn fiom the glance that I was bend
ing on her. hut oi.ly Mniled mockingly—a smile
.ibat passed nest moment into a as wick
edly provoking as herself. I was turning away,
(jur*. I scarcely knew why, wheu slie stopped
mp with an ictrcrioits bidding,
"Gerald," she said, '"if you carf» to come
with me to the Wi jstaiiley room, I am just in
the i umor for teiiing yon its leg I can
tell it nowhere Lr.t in the room itself."
"1 he haunted chamber?" I questioned, in
dolently. "I am not in the burner, Et na, if
yon are the morning's too bright to be spent
anywhere but tit of doors, and the
•orj's cer
tainly old enough to keep. I'm for staying here
in this glorious old garden, and fancying it
Eden, and yon its Eve."
"Stay, then," she said, with a pout,and
nov
od away.
I watched her passing farther atid farther
from me, towards :ne house Givat roses
were ail about me. the air was faint with the
}iors of the honeysuckle, and overhead thick
tranches drooped caressingly, aud only ief
aere and there an opeuing tor tho huruiug sun
a shine through. In a moment, it seemed to
Tie, all would be sad and droopping for in a
noment more all that made the gulden fair to
ne wouid have passed from it with her. She
urned, however, as she reached the green,
iroken steps that led np to the terrace before
he house, and seeing me rise and move to
.-ards her. hesitated a moment, aud than came
lowly back.
"SI you are coming, after all,"' sho said, un
rsirioui-iv.
'•Yes, I'm ccmirg," I echnod. "And I'll lis
•n patienUy to anything yon like to i-.flict fiti
a, Erua. beginning with jLu fihuat that
alks at night m—"
••Winstanley's ghost, yoti mean," she inter
pted. "He does walk—he has been seen at
ast once iti every generation of Heathcotts
nee the time of Lis master, Geoffrey Heath
it You laugh at ine," she contiuu?d, a flash
defiance her great eye«, "but I te.l you I
believe in him—in his haunting the house
here his death was the causa of his maa-
"Why shou'.d ho haunt it? It can't bo a
leaaure to him, I should imagine, to haunt a
lace wLei e, if you and your legends are to be
-nstcd his ":viag incttt-veniant'y v.as the
eoffroy lieathcott dying a.so. Does
e hope that in ti.e course of a few ccnturies
\ia istei'8 .eniains—they are hidden away
imewhero, are tlie.v not—may become unenh-,
antial enough for fcvea aghoot to give thea
trial V"
"You dnll, silly fellow! I know what old
instanly would want to show me, but Ishnd
tr at the very thought of passing a night in
at horrible room they name after him.'
"Aiid what would he want to show you?" I
Ited.
"The secrot of the secret chamber tote sore.
wonld lead the way to that part of the house
teffe it lies and then if I liadeourago enough
follow him, he wonld indicate to me in his
OStly pantomime how to enter it—show mo
i«re the spring i«, and how it works. Then,
I bad the still greater courage to look in, I
onld see—oh! I should see—" pressing her
uds with a gesture of mimic terror before
reyes—"bones lying there—the bones of that
llant and noble gentleman that -re Hoath
tts are so proud to think was our ancestor."
I looked at hor, uncertain as to how much of
•peocli was jest, how much earnest, pnz
ji to know whether she put faith in the fami
fChost or not "You would not dare to sleep
the room they call Winstanley's." I quet
ned, "Aro yon so superstitious, Erna, as to
7 that ieriously?"
Erna darted at me her most indignant glance
way of acknowledgment of my question.
V» you so great a hero yourself. Qerald,
at von would care to Bleep in it?" she asked.
"You forget, I said lightly, "that I have not
en this chamber of horrors vet."
"See it now, then," she flashed out "Come
tb me, and tell nie if you would care tq^have
for your own while you stay here."
3he ran off before I could answer and I fol
ded slowly to the house, and found hpr after
me minutes' search, returning from the
use-keeper's private sanctum." Now," she
d, holding up a key that left deep stains of
at on her dainty fingers—"now for tho
anted room!"
was not thinking of it, or the legend con
jted with it, as I followed here there,
could I think of a room and legend
tnries old with that fair young face
ide me? Sweet face—grown some
lg more matronly now than in tho
vhfis to wori4 •wratd tow#a ibisKttat,
if I had it, might be laid at those feat for ono
kias from those lipa—1 hava but to oloae mv
eyes, aud you are before mo again, aa bright
and sunny as in the bright time of your girl
hood. How tweetlv tho vision uhiues on me!
I sae the calm old woods of Devon, aud rising
from them tha roof of a gray manor-house, its
twin vanes shining redly in the morning sun
through the trees are caught glimpses of the
windings of tho Part, and the far-off blue of
the sea, and wooded peak melting softly into
peak, aud fadiug in the haje of the distance aa
fades a dreaui.
1 followed her through the inhabited part of
the old house that summer's morning with
little in my miud beyond the thought that she
was fair, and that I ioved her. We turned pres
ently into a narrow, badly-lighted passage
and at the sight of ancient doore on eithej side
of mo other thoughts came into my mind—
thoughts of those who had been this fair crea
ture s ancestors. Iu these rooms they had
liv.nl and died hore the spirit of one of thom—
Geoffrey, the Cavalier Heathcott, who- had
fought as bravely as foolishly tor the Stuart
oause—was supposed sometimes to wander
restlessly from midnight to cock-crow. I knew
nothing more of the legend told of him than
that his end bad been strange and dreadful,
and that his fate was in some way connected
with that of his steward, Winstanley, whose
name had been given to the room where Erna
was now leading me.
"You care nothing for my lego.ids, Gerald,"
ahe said, her voice lreakiug in st ddeulv on my
thoughts. She had stopped before a door of
^specially uninviting appearance, aud now un
locked it "You might say that in any of the
rooms below, or eveu herein the day-time but
beckoning me to enter—"Would you dare
repeat it at twelve at night, auu alone in a
room tike this?"
"You don't think much of frfy nerves, I see,
Erna," I answered, following her into the
haunted room.
A strai'go, gloomy place it was, scantily fur
nished in the fashion of at least a century bo
fore, and having in one cornor an antique bed,
dating back, perhaps, to the time of Anna or
George f. I found myself looking at this with
an uncomfortable feeling that perhaps the
ghisti v steward, after his nightly walks through
tho old house, might lie down in it sometimes
in preference to his grave. "Erna," I asked
of the girl beside mo, do von say that mortals
have quite given up occupying this room?"
"My grandfather once or twice slept here, or
solhavii heard,"she answered. "He must have
been a brave man—worthy of tho cavalier race
he came ."vom."
"Is tho ghost so terrible a ghost, then, to en
counter?"
''Terrible to a Heathcott," she said, serious
ly. "I know you will lantrh at me, Gerald,
and perhaps the fancy is a silly one, but I never
come here without feeling taat every word of
the story they tell mo of tho room" must be
true. Out of it, I am more o: a sceptic about
mv ghosts."
Til hear the story before I laugh at you," I
answered. I was more curious about the le
gend, stauding in this dini.old room,than I bad
been half an hour before, when resting at
Erna's feet, with the roses about us aud the
blue of the sky above aud finding iu her eyes a
blue between sky and violet, and in her chock
the rose's faintest, most exquisite blush.
She told me her story that fairy summer's
morning—told it half laughingly, as was iu her
nature to do, and yet with something of
earnestness breaking out more and niiift visi
bly, as the gl Mmvlegend blackened to in ciose.
GentTrey Jloatficott, one of the most faithful
and foolish adherents to a bad king and worth
less cause, left England in dospair eoon after
the terrible iOth of January, 1G-4S) but re
turned next year to follow the fortunes of
l'rince Charles from Stirling to the fatal field
of Worcester. He escaped with his life,
and after shifting for many months from one
piaceof concealment to another,ventured back,
sometimoiu lt553, to Devon and Heathcott
manor, and lived there undisturbed by the Pro
tector's government, until uuhappily for him
soif, l:e lecame implicated la aa abortive
scheme for a rising in the West He wa3 seiz
'Vl, effected the samo ni^ht oaring escape,
witn a party of Ironsides in tierce pursuit, to
Heatlic tt house. Tao saarch that the Par
liamentarians conducted there was at first
without result but Gsnerai Harrison, their
savage commander, was not a Diau to be easy
baulked. He hail the old steward of tho family
brought before him, and threatened him witn
instant death unless he wouid betray his
master's iii.'.ing-uiace. The old man, stiil pro
tasting his ignorance, was dragged to the cham
ber that had ever since been known by his
name, and there a party of musketeers* were
told off to lire on him. Harrison had, how
ever, secretiv given order only to load with
powder. The vollev killed Winstanley none
the less: his frail hold of life was uot to bo
thus rudely played with.' Wheu the soldier*
lifted the old man from where ha hadr fallen,
they found htm dead.
"And the ghost, of course, has ever since
haunted the sceuo of his murder," I broke in,
wheu Erna's legend had reached this point
"according to the foolish custom prevalent
among ghosts of haunting the neighborhoods
that must be most disagreeable to them. Bit:
I don't sec why this poor old s ilit should Le
so very dreadf'l! to a Heathcotf."
"His master was never heard of afterwyda,"
said Erna. slowir and soiamnlv. J"
"Welly!' '7*
"Dou't you «», Gerald, that the ol.'l "man's
murderers were n^ht.and that be was the only
person whom Geoffrey Heathcott bad trusted
with the secret of t.is hiding-place? It is true
the rumor at the time wont that our ancestor
liad osca: ed to Spain, and died there: but I
don't be'-ieve it. I believe that what the legend
says of him is true."
"And what does the isgeud say of this mys
terious G. oTrey?"
"It says iiiut he had taken refuge in a liiding
p':ace con'r.vedi.i Eliztboth's tune by hisCath
olic grandfather—a small cell that, unhappily
for him, by an oversightof the architect, could
only be opened from w ithout, aud so made a
prisoner of anv one how was hidden there."
"So that," I said, catching at her meaning,
"if the old stenard were really his uiMtatrV
only C-iun laiit, the poor PI HO ,or in the present
ca-o would have been buried al'.VFT"
Erna did not ai.swer: she drew closer to rae,
and looked mund her with a shudder. "Come
away,"' h« said, cat-hii sr at my arm. "1 feel
as though if I staved here loii-'er the air won'd
choke me. Lot in get away from thes-s fright
ful w niories and tiii horrid room. I wou'a
notfilifrp-tKjre for tho world—I should wake
up with a start at midnight, aud s»o the old
veward staj.ding at my bedside, ard beckon
ing mo to follow him, that be might
show me where his master's lnnn aw hid
den."
"They are hidden, then, to this day
?"^-.
"So tlie legend says but when I toggfeo1 my
father to have all this part of the oid house
pulled down that they may be found and buu'ed,
he only la-ighed at me. Jint till they are ffiiitod
and buned, I feel that this will, be a Launtid
room. Ibe man who was killed here -will
rest in his grave till lie snows that Lis riia.^ttfr
has on", too."
I laughed at her wild
Fuegestion
and s&e
turned indignantly from me, aiyl Uitr(d liku'a
sunbeam ftoin the quaint, clarjf chamber, liv
ing me to tiirn
on
itj ghosts
Rini:
its ajlence a
key that grated in the riistv loci:, aud td/OUow
her at my leisure to the garden. ,J
"Gerald," my entertainer said to me, curtly,
that'evening, nfler dinner, "you're a fool, aud
this little daughter of mine's a goose and if
the goose must needs tempt the fool intoghost
huntinir, by ruking np for his benelit some of
the ridicu'o'.n old legend-' that are sure to ciinir
about a tuuibie-down piai a lilca thi, why. I
don't k IOW that I feel called npon to interfere.
I'll put no more serious obstacle iu your way
than a promise of laughing at yon when von
catch cold, instead of your ghost. You'll iiud
the quarters you want tj ocoujy rather damp,
and there's more than a suspicion of rats about
them: but try them by all means—try them,"
concluded Mr. Heathcott, with a yawn "aud
if you can stand tho damp and tlio rats for a
night or two, let me know-at the end of the
time how you likod your bed-room."
I dreamed that eight of having fallen asleep
in the great old bod in the haunted room, ana
of waking with a start and a shiver to find a
skeleton lying beside me. I had taken, I
scarcely knew why. a violent aversion to that
bed. "Luckily," I murmured to mysolf, as I
woke in reality, and found tho bright June sun
light shiniug through the Venetians of niyroom.
and falling ou gaily-tinted wall-paper and tbe
glittering brass of.my bedstead, "I've given no
pledge to sleep in it. It's enough, surely, to bo
about to occupy for a week a family vault,
without one's also become the tenant of a
hearse." And when I had, with the old
gardener to help mo, dragged the cumbrous,
funereal thing into a smaller room adjoining
tho ghostly one, and my own smart French
bedstead had been carried np to replace it, I
felt almost as though what 1 had done had
exoroised the ghost
I could not tell why, bnt the first night in
Winstanley's room was the most restless that I
spent there. There was a sickening atmosphere
of death and decav about tho place and I
tossed in my bed restlessly rrom side to side,
and gastied as if tlie air I breathed would choke
mo. At last I got up, and dragging one of the
heavy antique chairs before the nearer of the
casements, ihing it wide open to tho June light,
and sat there smoking. The two narcotics—
night air and tobacco—soothed me to sleep at
last and I woke some hours afterwards with
•n unoqiofortibla sqbs9 of hating fcl^aadr yyt-
izad my host's prediction, anil of helag a16nt
to carry down tcr breakfsatv violent told, and
no tidings at t-ie ghost
Erna was In tho garden, as her absence from
the breakfast-room assured me. As for Mr.
Heathcott, I doubt if he had seen the sua rise
once IM the last ten years, uuloss from the
wiudows iu tho bedroom. I stole softly ont
iuto tho open air, and down tho tangled alleys
of the dear old garden. I knew tho corner
that she would seek—where roses grew red and
white among the white and yellow of tha
tangled honeysuckle, aud hore and there be
tweeu the bushes bloomed fragrant masses of
clove and pink, and the faint air in stealing
East
drooped heavily with tha perfumed
reath of flowers.
I stolo on her softly, and the next moment
had caught her in mj arms, and mj lips for a
moment brushed her cheek.
She started from me—red as tha rosaa sha
was gathering.
"Mr. Osborne," she said, "how dare you!"
Then her eyes eaught mine with an eages in
terest as she gently disengaged herself.
"Oh Gerald," she cried, "havo vou seen
him."
"Who? The Winstanley of the legand?" I
questioned, laughing at her. "No, Erua tha
ghost's as civil and unatirustive a ghost as ona
could desire, and doesn't seem even inclined to
haunt my ((reams."
*r i
I remember as if that dead year had been
yesterday, how ally sho was of tile all that d^y,.
and how. when we nartod in tlie evening, her
hand rather touched mine than claspod it, and
sho bade me (he coldest of "good nights." We
met the next morning at the breakfast table,
and Flaughed a-* I caught hor eyes fixed ou me
for a niouieut with an eager, questioning gaze.
"No, Erna," I said, not yet."
"Not yet," I could have answered on the
third morning of my broken slumbers in that
IJW browed, shadowy room, where the rats
and wind botwoen,, them made uncanny noises
jn the far-off cornofrs, and ono started broad
awake ia a room reputed to be haunted, and
one hears vacua noises iu the darkness, it is
hard for tha moment not to have faith in
gliosis.
I ha ', a dream ou the fourth night of my im
prisometit iu that room that chilled me into an
agno tit of terror, and from which I awoke
shivering, and- with a wild cry forcing itself
from me in the greatness of my fear. I had
dreamed of being alone with one long dead, and
that.the thing had touched me and when I
awoke, trembling, and with the cold dew of mv
terror upon me, 1 was not in tho room where 1
had fa'.ien asleep, but to which as it seemed to
mo iu a dream, the dead had led me.
I wont down as haggard as a man might be
whom such droams had haunted, and paced the
terrace before tho old bouse, thiukiag
feverish
ly of them. Birds sang in the treos around
nie the morning air was cool to mv hot fore
head and iu the eastern sky was lit a herald
redness, thaT'iprimsotfed momentarily into a
more glorious proclamation of the advent of
the sun. And, even as the god of tho day leapt
up in all the brightness that only tho eye of the
eagle can look on from his burning couch of
cloud, twin stars shone out on the morning also
—the stars that lure man to his bliss or his
bale and there danced and sparkled from un
der a shining of golden hair a girl's bright
eyes. Erna had risen as early as the sun, and
but little later than myself and stealing softly
on me, her voice breathed as softly in my ear,
while I stood there lost in gloomy musings and
unconscious of her coming, the gay greeting:
"Beau chevalier!"
I started hnd turned almost fiercely.
'•Erna," I said, by way of excuse for my
abruptness, "I took you for the moment for
the continuation of my dreams."
"Your dreams, Gerald!" Her face flushed,
and her voice grew eager. "There are no
dreams iu Winstanley's room. Tell me what
you
have Been
But I was in no mood at the moment for ex
planation, and I turned away without answer
ing her question or satisfying her curiosity.
Early that afternoon, whon the glory of the
June day was at its brightest, we took our way
thtongh the dim and dusty passages of the uu
inhabited part of the old bouse, and after a
while, stood silent side by side in the room to
which, if I might credit lay dream, no earthly
guide had led me.
It was a dim old cbambor, darker and small
er than that called after tho traditionary Win
stanley, and in a far more hopeless state of
disrepair. Once it had been an oratory, and
tho single and beautifully shaped window had
blazed with colored glass", and from the carven
woodwork of the walls there had looked down
tha faces cf tbe twelve Apostles but the glass
was long since gone, and tho Apostles pre
sented now but a succession of indistin otly
ontlined lineaments, falling year by year into
nioro irreparable decay. I wont from one
blurred mask to the other, vainly seeking to
recognize that before which, as it seemed to
me in my dream, my ghostly guide had paused
for a moment, aud, pointing to it, had vanished
from my sight I stopped at last at one which,
centuries beforo, had in all probability imaged
forth tho face of Peter, and considering it at
tentively, felt some dim uncertainty of a rec
ognition dawu upon me. "Erna," I said, "i
was this."
Wo searched iong for the secret that Erna
persisted in believing lay hidden behind that
bit of carven wood. The June day wore
flowly out, afternoon was creeping into even
ing, but still, though the snn sank in the west,
and the shadowy twilight began to lend an
added dimness to the chamber, those small
white fingers followed patiently every line of
carving iu the grim old panel and the grimmer
face that frowned above it. and tho bright eyes
watched tirelessly for st me clue as to where
might lurk the spring that it was Erna's wild
fancy lay somewhere hidden for hor to press.
At'lasf, tired of by turns aiding in and laugh
ing at this wild quest, I menaced Erna that,
unless sho yielded to my oft repeated entreaty,
and abandoned it, I would leave her to seek
for secrot springs and hidden crypts alone.
Then I turned towards the door, aa if to carry
out niv threat.
8ho tied ptiet, me,"rapid as a legendary fay,
and placing otio Rand upon the lock, with the
other waived me back. "Gerald," she said,
half laughing, aud yet witli a strange, sweet
coaxing in hor voice, "I want you to promise
that as long I -oose to seek iu this room for
the secret 1 think IV will givo up to us, you
will not leave me."
I bad not meant to speak to her of my love.
What was there in her words that they
should thrill some snbtle nerve within me,
ami send strange passion burning tbTongh my
veins I took -hor hand in mine—her slight
girl's hand—and my eyes sought hers with a
*-ild desire to read my destiny in them,
"Erna," I said, "look up."
.Sue bent her lioad still lower. I could see
inly tho crimson c'noek, aud the golde* head
lhat drooped above it.
"You said ones tha^t if lever dared to speak
'o you of lovo- again, it would force you to re
member that we were scarcely even couHns.
I dare it now I will bo something more than
a cousin to you, or wo shall part Erna, I say
now, aud mors boldly than a year ago—I love
vou."
Still no answer and tho cheek flushed more
and more, atid the goi.! n licad drooped lower.
'1 lovo ymi, Erna," I repeated, trying vainly
to make her lift her face to mine.
fVenetl ing in Jier silence t^gd her blush em
boldened fne. I drow her gently' trd me, and—
aud—
v s
"Th$Rlro,te have givfrn ynn to me, Erna," 1
said, releasing her—as she rather shrank from
me, anil hid her glowing face against the
carvm wall from which the stony vi-aged
saints frowned grimly dowu on our betrothal
kiss.
And I stretched -ont my band and laid it
lightly on hers, as it rested on a dark and
monlded thing, in which there yet lurked in
distinct suggestions of the treachery of Judas.
I felt the warm, soft hand tremble undor mine,
and struggle to escape me and, tightening my
clasp, there came next instant a frightened ory
from Erna then a rush into our faces of cold
air, as, with a grating and sullen sound, the
wall gave way an inch or two. Aud then, the
spring refusing to act,closed heavily again, and
left us standing thero, looking wildly iuto each
other's faces, alono with our wilder thoughts,
and with the coming of the night
We buried the bones that were found in that
ghasfly hiding place, when a way was at last
broken into it, in tho old vault of the Heath
ootts and in tlie church beyond Erna stood
with me next summer at the altar rails, and
exchanged with me tho vows that made us man
and wife. But when the time of roses came up
again, and a young life was born into our new
home, far away from the Dovon hills, her vow
of obedience was, for the first time, broken.
She insisted in opposition to my wish, on
naming our first born OoofTrey.
And so Geoffrey, the stout cavalier of Mars
ton and Worcester fights, sleeps his last sleep
in tho calm woods through which wind the
clear waters of the Dart and to tho old manor
house, whose vanes rise glittering above those
woods, come sometimes mother and child.
And thon,'while the hot June sunlight pours
through tinglazed casement and shattered
walls, and floods with its golden glory the place
in which our ancestor's bones wero found,
Geoffrey, bis young namesake, peers fearfully
into that narrow crypt, and listens while, with
his moihor's hand clasped in his, the story of
1— ii--i
-'j. ifl
THE OLD LOG CHUBCH.
On olden walls, in memorys hall,
With roses 'round it rliottn^t
A picture rare, of antique nr.
The old log church is awlitfing.
Of timbers rough, aud guatled and tougb*
It stands in rustic beauty.
A monument to good intsit
And loyal, Christian duty.
The forest trees, kissed by he brsfJt
Of early autumn weathei.
Stand i.'rimly bv, and
seem
to sigh
And bend their boughs tcgethei
Down by the mill, and up tie hill.
And through the hazel tbeket,
And o'er the mead browu lathways lead
Up to the rustic wicket. r"v*'
And by these ways, on holydayfck
The villace folks collected,
And humbly heard theaacrel w#*i
And worshiped uuaffected.
Sweet fancy's art and poet'*ho»rt
Can see the old time preacher
And village sace now turn th pagAi
As minister or teacher.
For iu the church, with dreaded birch,
Ou week days he presided,
Iu awful mien, a tutor seen,
'Twixt lore aud iicks divided.
But where it stood, in dapple-1
A city sprang to life
And jolly noise of barefoot bays
Is lost in business rifat i.4#} J*.
With wars now flown, the children,'gtowB,
Are launched ou life's mad billows
The pretty maid is matron sbid,'
The master's 'neath the wi Iowa
FOR RELIGIOUS REFLECTION.
Leo XIII. An Iuterview with His Holiness.
After waiting more than two hours, the
doors at the farther end of the gallery were
opened, and a brilliant- group appeared in the
opening. The distanoo was so great that we
could not distinctly see its several parU, only
a general offect of bright colors, in which
splendid uniforms predominated. This group
at first appeared to bo stationary then, after
a time, wo bocamo conscious it was moving,
but so slowly and with such frequent pauses
as to be almost imporceptible. By degrees it
came nearer, aud wa saw two chamborlaius
walking backward then came some of the
Guardia Nobile, the pope's body guard, each
member of which is a nobleman and wears a
tall crested helmet liko an old Roman. Then
came a number of stately dignitaries in violet
robes, cardinals and monsignors, and at last we
caught a glimpse iu the center of a small figure
entirely in white—his holiness himself
—then more violet robes, and lastly more
guards, closing the procession. It "was im
possible to see that slowly advancing figure,
with its imposing surroundings, without being
most powerfully impressed. He is the repre
sentative of a Dower—a spiritual hierarchy—
which, as Macaulay says, "can certainly boast
of a far longer succession thau any dignitary in
the world linking together the two great ages
of civilization. Our modern feudal kings are
mere upstarts compared with the successors
in regular order of Sylvester and Loo and
the Great"
A monsignor who walked by the sido of the
pope asked the name, nationality and religion
of each person, for the information of his holi
ness,who then said a few words. He speaks
only Italian and French. Ha had a short con
versation iu the latter language with the priests
next to us,which of course we could distinctly
hear. They spoke of tneir intended mission,
and he replied that the merit of such actions
lay in the intention less than in their success
ful performance.
The pope is small and frail in figure, with
the whitest and most bleached-lookmg com
plexion it is possible to conceive. One could
scarcely imagine him able to go through the
prolonged fatigue entailed by even such a
ceremony as that in which we saw him. His
manner is moat gracious and pleasing, and
his expression of countenance benevolent
He was dressed in a white cloth robe with a
small cape, white scull-cap, and white shoes
embroidered with a cross a white silk sash,
with gold-fringed ends, round his waist A
large cross of magnificent emeralds was the
only spot of color in his attire. The pontifical
ring, wbich it is the etiquette to kiss, was es
pecially splendid, and appeared to have the
head of St Peter engraved upon it A digni
tary carried his scarlet cloak, and another the
large hat of the same color, tied up and edged
with gold cord. He remaiued a few minutes
in colloquy with our party, which happened to
bo the last in the assembly, then turning
round to face the gathering, he blessed it col
lectively with outstretched arms in the name
of the Trinity.-
Sunday-Soliool Assemblies.
Tbe prevalence and popularity of all kinds
of Sunday-school assemblies prompts the Con
gregationaiist to account for them as follows:
"Such movements are not to be ignored, but
are to ba studied and directed in the right way.
Howevga the institution originated, it exists
and th#people are in it, and it will not do for
those who wish to keep near the popular heart
to sta^ aloof. When Dr. Goodeli was asked
at Framingham last week why he attended such
places, he made the sagacious reply, 'Because
the p- oplo are there.' Thousands of youth all
over the land, whose hunger for stndv has not
been gratified, as well as many in advanced
life whose early opportunities were small, are
by this plan given a new chance for culture.
The other dav at Framingham, we saw women
with faces permanently faded, taking, notes in
clear school-girl hand with an eagerness which
showed that the dream of youth had come
back. The spectacle of 1,400 graduates at
Chautauqua is profoundly suggestive. It is
also a popular religious movement. While the
number of students in our theological semin
aries has fallen off fifty in the last four years,
the people have taken to the study of theology
with enthusiasm. Whether we like it or not,
the fact is patent that the popular theological
instruction of the time is very largelv being
given in Saturday afternoon Bible classes and
Sunday school assemblies. It is easy to say
that such teaching is superficial, but we can
bear cheerful testimony that it is very practi
cal indeed, thero were some lectures at Fram
ingham that rather made ona feel aaperiioial
himself."
A Tory Poor Prayer.
The London Christian World finds much
that is faulty in tho special prayer recently put
forth by tho archbishop of Canterbury. It
says it "never saw any prayer in print more
utterly conventional, more piteously common
place, Xhan this in which the archbishop of
Canterbury invites his oiergv to ask God's
blessing on our arms in Egypt. There
is no request that tlie nation should
bo saved from the guilt of rashness, of
pride, of ambition, of averice, in going to war
none that the Diviuo Spirit would quicken the
national couscieaco to discern whether it is in
tho cause of righteousness, mercy and peace
that bjood is to be sued none that our enemies
ma)- be enlightened as to their sin or folly in
causing us to attack them none that the de
struction wrought mav be small, or tho return
of peace bospoody. Does some one object that
this would swell the prayer beyond reasonable
length? We reply that fow" words may, in
prayer, express a great deal, and that if tho
prayer is=uod by the primate had really
touched the springs of mau'a spiritual nature,
bad really expressed the feeline and attitude
becoming Christians when thov ask God to con
secrate with his blessing their*weapons of war,
there would have been no oomplaints, although
tho ono straggling and broken-kneed sentence
of this prayer bad been replaced by aeYeral
brief and well-kuit sentences."
Drippings from the Sanctuary.
The Rev. S. F. Green, the rocalcitrant reetor
and would-be martyr of Miles Platting, Eng
land, is not yet out of jail but his release will
soon come, for tho penalty of deprivation,con
sequent upon his continued contumacy, took
effect recently, so that he ceases to hold a ben
efice in tho church, and thus in a double sense
becomes a free man. The living is not a rich
one, its value being stated in the Clergy List at
£300 a year. The pecuniary loss winch Mr.
Gvwn sustains by deprivation is probably
tha 'east part of his punishment, for that sec
tion of the church of which lie is a conspicu
ous leader is both sufficiently numerous and
wealthy to make his martyrdom easy to bear
in a financial sense. Bnt though they mav be
consoled in this respect, tho Ritualists must
now see that tho general feeling of tho country
is strongly avorae to the pretensions they have
set up to be superior to tho ecclesiastical courts
in matters of doctrine and discipline.
Tho official report of the one hundred and
sixty-third annual meeting of the Congregation
al General Association of Connecticut gives the
following statistical summary: There are 297
churches of this denomination in the State, of
which 132 have settled pastors, 110 are pre
sided over by aotiug pastors and 55 havo no
stated supply. Ono hundred and fourteen
churches have added no members by profes
sion of faith during the year, and lost 242 by
death. Tho chureh making the largest num"
J^lpartf additional* ot ,K$$.
,.\j£
don, which has received an additional member
ship of sixty-two. This church is under the
pastorate of the Rev. Alfred H. Hall
Tho ltov. George Wyndham Kenuion, M. A.,
of Oriel college, Oxford, has boen nominated
to the bishoprio of Adelaide by tho archbishop
of Cantorbury aud tho bishops of Durham,
WiiichesteivTruro and Bedford, to whom the
choice of a Bishop was entrusted by tho synod
of the diocose of Adelaide. Mr. Kennion was,
iu 1873, appointed by the crown, on the rec
ommendation of Mr. Gladstone, to the vicar
age of tit Paul, Hull, and haB since 187G been
vicar of All Saints', Bradford. From 1871 to
1873 1io was diocesan inspeotor of schools in
the diocese of York.
Recent Engl'sh religious exchanges contain
acoounts of attempts made by the Cunttes'
Alliance to prevent tho sale of livings ou tho
ground that such sales are sacrilegious and
simoniacal. Tho method adopted was to send
dolegates to the auction rooms, and annoy tho
auctioneer by protests and puerile questions:
and the only result seems to have been tho
forcible ejection of the officious curates.
Simony, if such it bo, will not bj abolished by
annoying officers iu the discharge of t.Yeir duty.
Evangelist Barnes finds that infidelity and
the devil aro exceedingly strong at Indianapo
lis. Iu a recent sermon he said that the devil
had the head of a god, aud being the greatest
liar ou earth, was swaying the world at tho
presont time. "You aud the devil can beat
me, dear friends," he continued, "but yon and
I can beat the deviL"
The Raccoon Presbyterian chnroh of Mid
way, Western Pennsylvania, celebrated the
huudrodth anniversary of its existence last
week. It is somewhat "of a novelty to,find a
church named after a raccoon instead of a
safnt But the early settlers probably knew
more about raccoons thau ecclesiastical saints.
The Methodist says that during tho last forty
years, in Now York city, the Presbyterians and
Methodists havo each advanced at about
the rate of 33 1-3 per cent on their member
ship tho Baptists about 35 or 3i per cent,
and the E piscopaliaus over 200 per cent it
says that these are "paiuful and humiliating
facts."
The Baptists of the maritime provinces of
Canada recently met in convention at
8t. John, New Brunswick. These provinces
have 348 churches, with a membership
of 37,423. The missionary efforts of the
denomination were reported to be in an encour
aging state.
At a meeting of the Pittsburg aynod of the
Lutheran church, held last week, resolutions
wero introduced recommending the general
celebration of the four hundredth anniversary
of Luther's birthday, which will occur on,the
10th of November.
HOME AND HOUSEHOLD.
Tlie Lunch Table.
Jf a lady chooses to give a more formal
lunch and to have it served a li Russe,the first
entreo—let us say chops and green peas—is
banded by the waiter, commencing with the
lady who sits on the right h»ud of the master
of tho house. This is followed by vegetables.
Plates being renewed, a salad aiid some cold
ham can bo passed. The sherry is poured by
tho waiter, or claret is offared. If champagne
is served at lunch, it is handed immediately
after the first dish has beou served, aud claret
and slierry are not offered unless askad for.
After the salad a frosh plate with a dessert
spoon and small fork upon it is placed before
every persou previous to pu ttiug the ice
cream, pie, or pudding before tho hostess, who
cuts it and puts a portion on each plate. After
these daiaties havo been discussed, a glass
plate, serviette, and finger-bowl are placed bo
fore each guest for fruit The servaut takes
the plate from his mistress after she has filled
it aud hands'it to the lady of first consideration,
and so on. When only members of the family
are present at luncheon the mistress of the
bouse is helped first
Fruit tarts, pudding, sweet omelette, jellies,
blanc mange, and ice cream are all proper
dessert for luncheon also, luncheon cake or
the plainer sorts of loaf cake.
It is well, in all households, if possible, for
the children to breakfast aud lunch with their
parents. The teaching of table manners can
not begin too early. But children should never
bo allowed to trouble guests. If they are not
old enough to behave well at table, guests
should never be invited to the meals at which
the children must come. It is very trying to
parents, guests, childreu aud servauts. When
luncht oa is to be regarded as an agreeable so
cial repast, when guasts are to be expected,
theu the children should diue elsewhere. No
young mother succeeds better than she who
has a nursery diuiug-room, where, under her
own eye, her darlings aro properly fed. It is
not so much trouble, either, as you would
think.
Table mats are no longer ased in stylish
houses, either at luncheon or at dinner. The
waiter should havo a coarse towel outside and
wash each dish before he puts it on the table
Menu cards are never usod at luncheon. Salt
cellars aud small water carafes are in very
good taste placed up and down the luncheon
table.
A Novel Shopping Bag
A shopping bag of novel design exhibited in
an art room this week was much admired. The
bottom of tbe bag was of drab Aida canvas it
was not exactly square, but an inch or two
longer than it was wide. There was no seam
at the bottom, but on the sides where it was
joined, a narrow pleating of scarlet satin was
inserted. The top of the bag was of scarlet
satin also, and it was drawn together with satin
ribbon of the same color. A stem of scarlet
flowers was embroidered on one side of the
canvas. Another bag was made of the linen
cord of wbich macreme lace is made. It was
crocheted in an open-work pattern, stiffened
with white glue lined with blue silk, and left
open at the top aud not drawn togs'her, but
had crocheted nandles. This is hiuadsome to
haug ou the wall or to carry in the hand.
Good Grape Catsup.
Cat ont this recipe for grape catsnp and try
it when yonr grapes ripen. Any variety will
make the catsup, and it will be nice, but the
Catawba or tart grapa are preferred to the
Coucord or Delaware: Lot five pints of grapes
simmer till they aro so soft tuat you can rub
all but the seeds through a colander with ease.
After this is done add two pints of brown
sugar, ono pint of vinegar, two tablespoonfnls
each of allspice, cloves aud cinnamon, one
teaspoonful and a half of mace, ono of salt,
and a teaspoonful of red pepper. Put them all
in a porcelain kettle, lot them boil slowly till
they are as thick as you like catsup to be. The
grapes must first be eked from the stems,
and bo washed thoroughly, or they will be
gritty, and the catsup be spoiled.
Kitchen Keramic*.
It is well for the inexperienced pickle-maker
to be told that there is just as groat difference
in green tomatoes as there is in anything else.
To insure crisp and fine-flavored green-tomato
pickles, it is necessary to start with fine
grained, firm ton.a ous, aud the half-grown
ones aro best Thev aro not so juicy, aud the
slices look and aro really more compact They
keep their shapo better, too. Auotbor point to
bo uoted iu pickle-making is that iu order to
have good cucumber pickles that will keep
well, they must be fresh when yen bogin the
pickliug process. If kept for two or three
days, they become soft, audit is almost impos
sible to succeed with them.
Marmalade made of tlie common Siberian
crab apple is not to be despised, and for the
children's lunch or for tea with good bread
and butter is looked upon as a luxury. Stew
the apples, skins and all, till they are very
soft mash thom, adding light brown sugar to
your taste. This may ba put up In canu or in
little earthon jars and sealed lor winter use.
Marmalado may also be made of nice poach
parings, with now aud then half a peach left
iu. This latter dish is not recommended ex
cept when fruit is scarce and you feel like
making the most of every part of it
A tasteful way to arrange tbe narrow curtain
at each side of a hail door is to make them of
muslin or of lace gather them at the top and
bottom have the muslin full. About mid
way between the top aud the bottom tie a rib
bon around tbe muslin, make a pretty bow
and let it come next to the glass. Tie the rib
bon so close that the muslin will be drawn in
at the center lot tho muslin hang leoaeiy and
gracefully, not iu stiff folds. If thero are no
other wisddTfs in the hall, plenty of light will
be admitted by this arrangement Dotted mus
lin is preferred to plain.
Lamb chops are exccllont cooked in this
way: Put them in a frying-pan, with a very
little water, BO little that it will boil away by
tho time tho moat is tender then put in lamps
of butter with the meat, and lot it brown slow
ly there will be a brown, crisp surface, with a
tine flavor. Servo for breakfast with potatoes
cooked thus: Choose small onoa aud let them
boil till they aro tender drain off the water,
aud pour over tbem, while etill in tho kettle,
at least one teacupful of cream mash them
smooth in this.
It is sometimes hard to know just what to put
at tho wiudows in a basement dining room
shades mako the room to dark, and much
drapexy haa the sama bad efftct For th« par.
pose one satisfactory way is to get two breadths
of dotted white muslin for each window, make
box pleats at tho top, have the muslin *bout
three-quarters of a yard deep, and let ithaug
loosely at tho bottom. They look very pretty
from tho stroet, and there is no objection to
them in tho house.
Tomato salad is an agreeable entree, and
goes woll with almost any dinner, but particu
larly we:l with fried or roast moats. To half
a dozen medium-sized tomatoes, with the skins
removed aud the tomatoes sliced, add the
j%lka of two hard-boiled eggs, also one raw
egg, well beaten and mixed with a tablesooon
ful of molted butter, a teaspoonful of sugar,
with cayenne pepper and salt to suit the Uste.
Whou all these are mixed thoroughly, add half
of a small cupful of vinegar.
Good plain gingerbread is made of two
pounds of flour, half a pound oT butter, half
a pound of sugar, two tablespoonfuls each of
cinnamon and ginger, one pint of molasses, a
teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a half a cup
of sweet milk if you havo sour milk, use that,
aud add half a teaspoonful moro of fioda.
Bake in very thin layers mark each layer with
a fork in lines an inch apart. The oven Bhould
be hot wheu the gingei bread is put in.
Jelly made from unripo granos, just before
they change from green to purple, is very del
icate. Wash tho grapes, after picking them
from tho stems, iu several waters, then put
them iu a porcelain kettle wash them before
putting them on the stove, as then yob will
not need to put any water with them, and of
course the less water the less time it will take
to boil the juics. Put. the grapes when suffi
ciently cooked in a bag made of firm flannel,
aud let the juice drain out without squeezing
if possible.
A pretty way to cover a chair cushion is to
knit stripes of zephyr worsted or of yarn in
different colors. Suppose vou have three
stripes, one of red, one"of blue, aud tho third
of black, knit them together, put them over
the cushion, and at each corner fasten a scar
let bow, or, instead of bows at the four cor
ners, a cord and balls made of worsted look
very pretty at the two front corners. This
cushion has a soft, warm look which ia appre
ciated in winter.
So long as some people will eat the skin of a
sweet potato, after dua remonstrance, try to
make it as nearly eatable as possible. To" do
this the potatoes should be baked in a drip
ping-pan tho skin will then be baked uni
formly, aud there is almost no danger of its
burning on one side. If you have enough left
from one meal to warm for auother, do not
throw them away, but slice them thin and fry
them in butter.
Sometimes the mackerel intended for break
fast is not fresh euough in the morning to bo
eatable it is then a good time to serve boiled
mackerel. Wrap the fish in a cloth securely, so
that you can lift it from the kettle when it is
tender without, breaking it. If yon change the
water two or three timos it will freshen in a very
few minutes do not change from boiling water
to cold, but pour from the teakettle each time.
Lemon shortcake requires a rich and very
light crust it must uot be too thick, either
whon baked, cut it open and spread butter on
the upper and under parts theu put in a fill
ing made of the rind, juice and pulp of two
lemons, one heaping cup of sugar, aud one cup
of cream: if you caunot procure cream, make
the filiii,'^ as for lemon jelly cake, with water
thickened with corn starch, in place of cream
cook in a basin set iu a pan of boiling water.
Blackberries need to be cooked a long time
in order to expel the air from them: a much
longer time ia necessary than for raspberries
let them cook slowly, until the berries have
slirilnli at least half unless you do this, there
is likeiy to be enough air left in to start fer
mentation if there is more juice than you liko
to have in the cans, yon can boil it down and
ponr over the berries, or strain it aud boil for
jelly.
Pretty and odd chairbacks are made of
squares of linen and of satin. This seems
at first a strang9 combination, but the effect
is excellent Where the squares are ioiued,
cover the seams with fancy atitches. The
satin squares may be left without ornamen
tation, and all the work be put on the linen
ones. Embroidery, or painting, or etching, are
the favorite methods employed.
A handsome and yet simple, easily made sofa
cushion cover is made of one square of satin
on this embroider a spray of flowers, it may
be done with Kensington stitch and crewels or
with tbe popular ribbon embroidery. Finish
the edge with a cord or with fringed silk.
If you wish to clean your spice mill, you
will find that by grinding a handful of raw
rice through it this can be accomplished. The
particles of spice and pepper or of coffee will
not adhere to it after this rice iB ground
through it
When abont to broil fish it ia a good plan to
grease the gridiron well with a little lard.
You will not be troubled then by having about
half the fish sticking to the gridiron when yon
attempt to remove it to the platter.
The rind of a lemon is recommended by a
noted cook as giving a delicate flavor to toma
to catsup. It should not be put in till the cat
sup is done aud cooL Cut it in small pieces.
Thin slices of bread dipped iu tomato sauce
and then fried in butter till thev are brown,
take the place of an omelet !This is a good
wav to utilize stale bread.
THE PHCENIX PARK MURDEB3,
Facts Concern ine Westgate, Alias O'Brien,
Who Confessed to Killing Cavendish, and
is Now in Jail at Jamaica.
Westgate, alias Patrick O'Brien, the alleged
murderer of Lord Cavendish and Mr. Burke,
has been removed from the steamship Fan
tome to Spanish Town jail, as the Fantome
was ordered to Barbadoes, says a Kingston
Jamaica special. Westgate is a man of ordi
nary bail(L He has a full and rather dark
beard, about three inches in length
all aronnd. He still adheres to his
former confessions. He has several times
threatened suicide, and a close watch is kept
over him to prevent any accident He says
that he left Dublin on the night of the assas
sination, and went with the night mail to Holy
head, and thence went to Cardiff, and from
Cardiff sailed iu the Gladstone for Porto Cabello,
where he was arrested by the British represen
tative on his own confession. He says
that the British authorities treated
him very barshlv at Porto Cabello,
and that he has been very kindly
dealt with on board the Fantome. When
asleep he is troubled with fearful dreams aud
ravas very excitedly. The doctor was called
several times to ascertain what was wrong,
and tho ship and prison doctors affirm that ho
is suffering acutely from a very intense excite
meut. He confesses to having returned before
entering the car, and to have given Lord Cav
endish a stab in the back, and that he was em
ployed and paid .£20 by Mr. O'Connor, M. P.,
for his share ia the deed. He says that
his wife resides in Dublin, aud that her father
aiao lives there. Ho wrote a letfir to his fa
ther-in-law, but not to his wife. Ho has re
vealed the names of his alleged accomplices to
tbe authorities, but the uahios ho gava are kept
strictly secret. Tho geueral belie, hore ia that
he has had something to do with the Thanix
park murder, and this belief gains ground,
even although nows has been published here
staling that Westgate had sailed previous to
the murder. Feople say that tho prisoner may
not be Westgate, but it is certain that he is
cither a murderer or a madniau.
One day, while looking carelessly through
the Suuday at Homo magazine, his eye caught
tho words "Tho Assassination of Lord Mayo,"
and ho jumpod with fear and axksd his keeper,
"What's that?" He then turned over the leaves
excitedly, and seemed to be lost with fear and
excitement No one is permitted to see West
gate in prison except those who havo of neces
sity to visit him. The authorities heret are
waiting farther orders from England*
A Montana Stnrv.
Butto (Mont) Inter Ocein: Eight miles north
of Butte ia a sprin„ which is a bonanza in its
way, there being a great doal of gold in the
waters. Tiu discovery was made accidentally
several rears since. A prospector in that
neighborhood cleaned out the spring and was
daily in the habit of going there for water.
One evening rather late ho wont as usual and
while dipping water, dislodged a boulder which
fell into the spring. Next mording he took the
stone ont and was surprised to see it
coated with gold. Regularly thereafter lie has
immersed in tho watera boulders of various
sizes, aud his daily clean-up averaged from
half an ounce to threo ouuees of gold dust
The discoverer is now a rich man, and has or
dered a system of plates to supersede tho
boulders for catching the gold. This is cer
tainly oue of the most remarkable disooveries
ever made in the West, and it is an innovation
on tho customary methods of mining. Tho
authenticity of this story is vouched for by re
liable gentlemen in this" city, who thia morning
related the abovo facts to a' reporter.
Kentucky Whiskies.
If you want straight, good Sour Mash Ken
tucky Whiskies, call only for C. Courad& Co.'a
Moas Rose Bourbon or Governor's Choica
Bjfc. Aak yonr grooer for them.
TEN LITTLE PBA8#
Ten little peas in a pod
Wanted to see the world.
But the vine said, "Not
You must wait and grow.
Here in your snug nest curled.
"You mast drink the rain and thedaw*
And warm yourselves in the sun.
Then fall asleep
Iu slumber deep.
When the summer days are dona.
"Bat in spring you shall open jOVXVjm,
And tender fingers spread,
And dance in the breeze
From 't.e orchard trees,
And wear a crTwn on your headl"
But the ten little peas in tho pod
Would not heed to the sweet viua-motlwfc
We cannot wait
For the surinf io late!"
Baid each to his fretful brother.
Cook Marecry down the path
Came dressed in Imr apron whit*
Tha peas said, "HarkI"
Io the pleasant dark.
But the poor vine shoo^ with fright
Iuto her basket slipped
The ten littlo peas tojothar.
And they cried in glee,
"At last we shall see
The sun and the sky and the weather!'
But the pod crashed over their heads,
And
the fire
in
the
range
was hot,
And willing or
nay,
Thev must dance away
Their lives in the boiling pot
CHATTER FOR CHILDREN.
Bainy Day*.
Since I began to tell you what to do, I hafflt
spent an evening in a room that you would all
like to see.
The owner lives out of doors in the summon
and has a canoe that he keeps iu this room ia
winter.
Around tho walls are horns of deer, picture®
of fish, polea and lines, a collection of btonea,
such as I shall perhaps tell you how to maka
when you aro a little older, a head of a beaver,
with long, brown teoth, atuffod birds aail
many other things that would please you all.
On one of the walls hauga a little gilt franMfe
with some pressed flowers under glasa.
When the owner of the pretty room was not
much older than you he began to cullectand
press flowers from the garden.
Then wheu ho was growing ap he used to
stuff birds.
At about the same time tbe war that yon
have heard of began, and he cut from tb*
newspapers everything that he could find
about it for four years, and made surap-booka.
He has kept, too, whatever he saw in the pa
pers about anv famous man, like Gen. Grantor
Gen. Garfield.
Now, perhaps, yon can begin this summer to
make in rainy days a scrap-book that will be
always useful.
You can't all read very well, but if yon sea
anything about flowers', or birds, or Strang*
animals, spell it out and keep it if no one elaa
wants it
You may find pictures of animals or flowots
for yonr book. In a few months you will be
surprised to see how many cuttings you havei
You may not need them all. but look them
over and decide what yon will keep. Then
paste them into a book some rainy afternoon
when you don't know what to do, when yon
cau't go out of doors, and it is too hot to maks
molasses candy.
Before long jon will have a book all yonr
own, like nobcAiy else, that will b9 useful to
you all your life.
If anybody asks yon wbat yon want at
Christmas, perhaps you will say. "A book for
next summer about flowers or insects or tha
seashore.''
There is a very good one, The Young Folka'
Encyclopaedia of Common Thin^«, that will
help you a great deal, aud the older you grow
the better you will like it.
Another, Ocean Wonders, will tell you of
many things on the seashore of which I have
not spoken.
Yon will fiiid in such books pictures of what
ever you pick np in your walks.
If you are away from books you mnst use
your eyes all you can. A very good way
to spend a raiuy morning is to look at tho
things that you havo collected and see how
the birds' nests are made, into how many parts
the insects' bodies are divided, wither a
caterpillar haa more or fewer divisions than
a butterfly, or the difference between a roso
and liiy.
Perhaps somebody will tell yon the naoM
of the part of a flower, just what an insect 1%
or teach yon something abont shells.
If you know no one who cares for out-of
door things, go on using your own eyes, and
you will learu more thau if von had only books,
and no real things to study.
I have seen a little room that a boy had for hia
own use. He had put up some neat shelrea
for tha 200 or 300 birds that he had stuffed.
The lowest shelf, just above the floor, was
covered with sand, aud on it he had placed a
turtle, a star fish, some fishes' eggs aud shellai
The birds were arranged above, come with
spread wings and nests, others with their winga
tightly pressed to their sides, to take up aa lit
tle room as possible.
On the other side of the room were great
boxes of eggs, such aa yon are not old enough
to collect without hurting nests and treating
birds cruelly.
Just below the eggs were pieces of many
different kinds of wood, ail of the same sise^
and a large book of pressed plants.
The boy who owned them all had learned to
draw pictures of birds and to paint them after
ward, although he had had no drawing master
iu school, as many of you have.
Perhaps if you begin to make your collec
tions this summer, in a few years|yon will hare
as many things as he has.
Even if you have, at the end of vacation, only
three or four butterflies, a few leaves and a
piece or two of dry moss, you will be ready to
try again next year to get something really
worth keeping aud to take good care of it
A BOOM FOR BAYFIELD.
A Certainty of One Kailrnad in Six Months
and the Possibility ol Two More Within a
Year—A S^lmditl Harbor, Excellent Wa
terworks and Other Attractions.
Special Correspondence ..
BAYFIELD, Wis., Sopt 4.—Your readers may
not be aware that this little "City of Fountains"
is really on the boom, and that our white pop
ulation will have nearly doubled by Jan.
1SS3.
The certainty of one railroad within six.
months aud the possibility of two within a year
from to-day, together with our splendid har
bor, than wbich there are nono better, our
beautiful situation, overlooking three chaa*
nels, a bay and numerous islands, and our su
perior waterworks, carryiug water to dwell
ing and business places alike, supply
ing kitchens, fountains, lawns and
mills, and furnishing a foroe
and supply to reach the top of the highest
buildings, in case of fire. These and many
other very attractive features aro attracting
the attention of persons seeking a desirable
business location aud letters of inquiry to
your correspondent are freqnent Ihe last
contracts for grading ou the railroad from Sk
Paul brings the work nearly to the towu, and
within i abort time the shovel brigade will be
quartered iu our very midat The company ia
having souio troublo iu accuring tbo right of
way from property owuera, and Saturday's
issue of the Bayfield Press will coniaiu a list of
such lands aa thev are obliged to condenua
their way through. Property ia advano
ing, and good business locations command
extra prices: but choice building lota 40x120
feet can be bought for from $50' to ^100. The
town ia spondmg several thousand iu opening
up and gradiug new atreets)aud before auother
spring opens the borders of oar Zion will be
greatly extended.
BEHIND US ON THE MAW LAND
and before us upon the islands stands the UB-,
touched forests extending many miles in all ift
vectiona, and we have as tine timber, both pine
aud hardwood, as can be found in the North
wed A batter location for two or a half doaea
saw mills can nowhere be found, the forests
aro within easy reach, from the water, a coast
free from bluffs, aud the shore and sea so pro
tected for miles. that logs can be
boomed and towed in safoty, whon at less shel
tered positions such a work would bo impos
sible. Tho crops—ri havj a few farms around
here aud more "clearing"—look good. Pota
toes aud oata will bo unusually good. Hay is
short, owing to.the early dry weather. All the
lake steamera call here on their way up and
down tho lake. Three small steamers make
daily connections with Aaliland and one with
Isle Royal and fie north shore twice a week.
The ateamer Favorite has baen laid up for re
pairs about six days out of seven so far this
year. She usually gets fitted up by Saturday
night and starts out to work on Sunday, and ia
a day or two is laid up again. Her owner
seems to be making a test cas» with the Lord
over hor. If we owned hor we would try work
ing her week days and laying her by Sundays
the rest, of the season aud see how tlw account
stood the clo»4 of navigation.