Newspaper Page Text
I MKAN TOMiRRT JOHN O. SAXBi When I mean to mnrry?—Well, 'Tis idle to dispute witli fnte. But if you uiouse ,u hour me tell, Fray listen while I fix the dato: When daughters haste, with eager ftset, A mother's daily toil to shnre, Can make the puddings which they eat, Aud mend the stockings which they wear When maidens, look upon a man As in himself what they would muic And not urmy-so'.diertt scan A sutler or a, commissury When gentle ladies, who haw The offer of a lover's hand, Consent to share his earthly lot. Aud do not mean his lot of laud, When young mechanics are allowed To find and wed the farmers' girls Who out expect to be endowed With rubies, diamonds, and pearls When wives, in short, shall freely give Their hearts und hands to aid their spouses, And live as they were wont to Within their sires' one-story hon«4 Then, madam—if I'm not too old Rejoiced to quit this lonely life, 11 brush my beaver, v-ease to scold. And look about me for a wife! UD MRS. BRANDLETH CHAPTER THE FIRST. .e was a proud old woman. Many Indians are endowed with fnore than is good for them, and she instance. Perhaps it was the or the climate, or living on an e there was no aristo^?,/ A\,JR JYAS^X^TIITED BY one was very rich, there was ibt about tmat and she had a vely daughter, there was also bt of that--fi fair-haired girl, with ireamy eyes| and a fair skin,and at suggested a pout, yet broke he most enchanting of smiles nd then—not very often either s because the girl's life has been as an only child's often is, and is because she was half afraid of ither. Her happiest days had ler school days she had been England for her education, aen she returned to the narrow and the stiff uncompromising :, who since her husband's had managed the estate herself, is absorbed in the produce of and the politics of Government Alice felt lonely and weary .. Yet Mrs. Brandleth was roud of her beautiful daughter, lited serenely, convinced that y would come when a wander ike, or perhaps a stray prince ver to improve his knowledge pics, would fall in love with her sist uporfi laying his name, rank rtune at, her feet. Having this tion strong upon her, it waspro when (bne fine day Alice in 1 her, tremblingly enough, that ad engaged herself to Hugh r,a yourig surgeon who was vain ng to ge a practice in the island the population was more in to trust its broken bones and .lies into the hands of the older •s-jjare to think of such t£hing," "Aed, "I'll leave every pev^v .»y from you. and what is more, will let you starve--"ther than give you a shilling after which comfort able assurance, having no money and no prospects, the pair prudently got married on the sly, and trusted to •'luck." Luck betrayed the trust and never came near them, or only luck of the worst description did so they realized all they had, and, after one unavail ing appeal to Mrs. Brandleth, deter mined to leave the west Indies and seek for better fortune in England. "I should so like to see my old friends again yes do let us go, Hugh, dear, besides we can make a better fight with poverty there than here," Alice said, thinking wistfully of her school days, and a little bitterly of the manner in which her tropical ac quaintance had cut her since her mar riage. So with only £200 in the world they set out for England. "It is no use trying in London, Hugh said, "we should only be lost in the crowd, and allowed to starve qui etly. We'll go to 3ome small seaside place, or country village, and set up, and hope for the best. Unless there is some one there before us, patients must come in time"—a reasonable supposition when one considers that, in the long run, disease and death are never inconstant long together any where. "Let us go by the sea, then," plead ed Alice so they went to the Dray ton- on-Sea, a small seaside place where fisherfolk abounded, and where there were hills around, with here and there houses scattered about, all inhabited by the probable patients of Hugh Trevor's future. There was no surgeon at Drayton on-Sea before Hugh Trevor went there, but a railroad came soon after they settled there, and very soon after that a surgeon—an older man, with long experience—came and practiced more tor love than fees, for he was well off, and so the bright future the Trevors were seeking was still far away. "Oh, Hugh! what shall wedo?"poor Alice said, looking up with troubled eyes at her husband. Their second child was just born, and their last bank note just changed. "Never mind, my darling," he said bravely, "better days will come yet." "Shall I write to mamma?" she ask ed. "No, be said but she did, only to have her letter remain unanswered. CHAPTER THE SECOND. Ihe first and the most vivid memory of anything that little Frank Trevor ever had was the fishing village of Drayton-on-Sea of the grand hills gounding uarding it and the great gray sea it. It always seemed to him as if there were two other worlds be sides the one in which he lived, for •very day—nay, two or three times a day—did not the train pass by Dray ton-on-Sea, coming from some un known land behind, and rush by to some unknown land beyond? He watched it come and go with a won dering, thoughful face many a time, and speculated on all the strange things the whizzing engine had seen, but he was quite content when it had le. Then there was the sea. He his little sister spent half their ^e down on the sandy beach, watch that great world of waves, with ^nng beyond save the sky which lovingly touched it in the dim dis tance, and the white sails of the pass ing ships. Every morning, for ma ny and many a long day, his mother came down to the beach with lm* and little May, and sat watching the tide coming in or going out. "Mother," he often asked, "where is father?" But she always gave the same an swer: "He is on the sea, my child, attend ing to all the people that may be ill on a laivo ship in which heis, and he tries to make them well," "And wnac are you saying to the sea, mother?" he asked one day. She turned and answered him as if he had been a man rather than a wee child— "I do not quite know, my darling. I am sending a prayer out with the tide, I think, to your father, to come back again. I always fancy that some of those great waves may travel far away till they touch his ship, and when the tide comes back that per haps they may brin^ me an answer or some whispered message from him." And so the months went by, and then suddenly some terrible news came that made his mother wring her hands and rock to and fro in an agony of soi row. iJon't cry, mother," he said, climb ing into her lap "come down to the shore and watch for father." But ahe only sobbed the more, and cried: "Oh! my child, my poor child, we shall never watcli for him more. He is drowned and gone forever." "Did you see him?" he asked, child ishly. "Were you on the shore9 darling, he was far away— much farther than we can see—and he was wrecked and is drowned, and ly ing in the groat sea forever," she wept. Then he knew that there was a great sea-world beyond his sight, and that somewhere in it his father was lying dead and so the child's face grew grave, and his eyes always seemed to be looking much farther away than even the great hills themselves could see. The fisher-folk and the people scattered in the houses on the hills around were very good to Alice in her sorrow, but they could not pro vide for her and her children, and when a letter came from her moth er, kind enough now, begging her to come back to the West Indian Island, they tried to persuade her to go. But she refused she could not ac cept what had been denied to her hus band, and though money was inclosed, it was long before she could bring her self to spend a shilling of it. She pre ferred even the charity of the fisher folk. So letter after letter came, but at last there was one she could not re- "Reinember it is your own mother you are steeling your heart against," Mrs. Brandleth wrote, "and I feel for your sorrow as if it were my own, for your father died before you can even re member. I am getting too old to travel alone, but I must go to you if you will not come to me." Then she broke up the little home— the home in which, in spite of pover ty, she had been very happy in days gone by, and in which her children had been born—and went to her mother. But she could not stay there, and so after a few years Mrs. Brandleth put the sugar plantations under the care of an agent and once more Alice Trev or came to England to live in a small country town. CHAPTER THE THIRD. Ten years from the tijr ie when Alice left Drayton-OiAsea, the sun shone no lon^i'aown on a little fishing vil lage, but on a growing place ol fash ionable resort. The houses which dotted the hills were closer together, and at their feet there stretched ter races and streets, and on the once lonely shore were the marks of many footsteps on the sand, and rows of boats for hire, and sailors hanging about, seeking for idlers who would sail bt neath the summer sun or listen to their yarns. "A glorious day, ma'am," Tom Hardy said to an old lady who, feeble and tired, sat down on one of the few seats scattered about. "Ah! a glori ous day, ma'am. Would the young lady like a sail? I've a neat little craft yonder "No, thank you," she answered qui etly. May, dear, give me my knit ting and the old woman and the young girl sat down, shaded from the fierce rays of the setting sun by the life-boat which was drawn up on the sand behind them. "Is the paint wet?" theold lady ask ed. "No, ma'am, 'taint wet," the sailor said "it's the one behind I've been touching up. It isn't long we've had her, you see. They say it was a Mr. Greathead who invented her, but it's great heart that gives it, I think. A la dy gave that to Drayton-on-Sea just a year ago this August. It's saved a good number of lives already, too." There was no reply from the old la dy.but the bright face of May Trevor looked up at him, for it was she and her grandmother, Mrs. Brandleth. They had come to see and stay a month at the place in which Alice's married life had been spent, and had left her now at the lodgings, too tired to come out besides, the sea was al ways a dreary book with a terrible past history to her. "Yes, miss," he went on, encouraged by the look, "I owe my life to a life boat—not this one, but to a life boat many a year ago—that is, nine this last spring. We were took up by one, me and two others, just as we had given up all hope and were clinging to almost the last bit of spar left. She was the boat of an American that took us up, and belonged to a ship that was bound outwards. There were only us three saved from the wreck, and one of us died." "And did the other live?" May asked. "Yes, miss, but he kept it secret. He was poor, you see, and his wife's mother had behaved badly, and let him and his wife and children almost starve, though she had plenty. So when he'd made enough to come back, without a penny in his pocket, and came here and found that he was counted dead, and that his wife had gone to her mother with the little ones, he thought it no use to take them back to starve again, so he de termined not to let her know he was alive till he'd money enough to keep them. So he went back to America. He wanted me to go with him, but I says, 'No, sir, 'tisn't money I want, but just the sea-faring life I've been used to, to make me happy.' How ever, he went, and he's made a lot of money 'twas he sent mef the money to get yonder little craft, with, now that I feel inclined to Sff 'tle down a bit he wished me to cc/me here be cause it was where he liv£d before he set sail." Mrs. Brandleth looked) ap at him with startled eyes, and lips thatwouM scarcely move. "Where is he now?" she asked, whili the color died from May's face, and her hands nervously c'.asped them selves together. "He's gone to seek his wife, and tell her he's not dead. She'd have het sorrow over mourning for him, when he first got back, you see, sc he never lot her know. He'll be over there by to-morrow or next day, I expect." Mrs. Brandleth rose, piteously clasping the sailor's hands. "Tell me his name," she said, ieebly. "Mr. Trevor, ma'am he's a doctor She heard no more, but sank fainting at May's feet. "I always felt that Alice laid hia death at my door," she said, when she opened her eyes "she'll forgive me now, and he will, too, for I have taken care of you both for him." A telegram was sent off that noon to tell Hugh Trevor that he would find his wife and child where years be fore he had left them. And then they waited with an impatience and hap piness that seemed almost too much to bear, till that happy day should come when the train which years before had seemed to little Frank to come from some unknow world, should bring the lost one back again. "If I had only known it all these years!" Alice said. "It would have been better to have told me.*' "It was my fault, dear," Mrs. Brand leth said. "He thought you have refused niyJl^ perhaps, if he lived, could not do much for you. Tom Hardy says he has been working all these years to endow you with his earnings at last," and thus the one unkind thought vanished. "I think I will go and meet him," Alice had said at first, meaning to go to Southampton and bring him back to Drayton but she gave up the idea long before she received the telegram from him to say he had reached Eng land, for Mrs. Brandleth had broken down beneath the excitement and long years of her busy life, and was ill and failing. So when the day came at last, Alice left May—May who was almost a woman now—to take care of her grandmother, and went down through the summer fields to the little station to meet her husband. It was late when his train came in, almost evening time, and the sun was setting when the husband and wife went hand in hand toward the house where Mrs. Brandleth and May were awaiting them. Mrs. Brandleth was watching them from the window. "The day is nearly done," she said, and a moment later she tottered for ward to meet her son-in-law. "I am so thankful," she said, as she kissed his bronzed cheek. She never saw the sun rise again but she died knowing that when it looked next upon them she best loved, it would be to see that their only sor row was that which her parting gave them.—Cassell's Select Library. Why Hogan W as Defeated. A Nashville, Tenn., correspondent writes: During the last few days Alfa voice has failed him, and, realizing that Bob was gaining ground on the stump in consequence, he hit upon a plan to checkmate him. Theicjaeifwas suggested by an ex pe^ae/ice of Col Dick Menefee, of KejfAcucky, in a con gressional v^aze fnany years ago. Col. .Wsicnefee had served one term in con gress, and having had a taste of Wash ington's political life his heart craved for more. He was a very popular man in his district, a part of which lay in the mountain regions, and was confident of success. His rival, Judge Hogan, was a shrewd man, and when early in the last days of the canvas Menefee visited the mountains on horseback, he found that all of his old friends in that region were pledged to vote for Hogan. He could not un derstand it, but he saw that unless he could do something to stem the tide his defeat was certain. He soon learned that the secret of Judge Ho gan's popularity was that he played the violin at parties. Menefee was for a time at his wits' end, but one night he found a large party gathered in a country school-house with his rival playing away as hard as heknew how. Calling one of the most influential men in the room to one side, Menefee said quietly: "Judge Hogan plays very well." "Yes," was the reply. "We like a man who is not abovq com r^ around and furnishing musi« lor us." "I notice that the jndge plays with his left hand up here," said Me nefee. (Hogan was left-handed.) "Why," said the influential citizen, "what do you mean?" "Nothing much," replied Menefee, indifferently, "only he uses his right hand when he is in Lexington." This story went over the district very rapidly. The well-known jealous sy existing between the city and counT try helped it along, and Judge Hogao was overwhelmingly defeated. He Deserved It. Sacramento Bee. "Do you see that smooth-foceri, good-looking gentleman in the checked trousers?" said Detective Davis. "Well, I can tell yon a good story about that fellow, and one that has frequent repetition. He is a tourist, has plenty of money ani is traveling for his health. His wile is with him She is older than he is, and is th most jealous creature that ever stock) in petticoats. Now, while they wer$ on their way out here, my tourisj discovered that there was a very pretty young lady alone and unpro, tected in the car adjoining us. To en liven the tedium of the journev, the tourist, under the pretext of taking a smoke, adjourned frequently to the car where the fair stranger was seat ed. Thus a very pleasant acquaint: ance sprung up, of which, of course, the wife was totally unaware. One evening when the train was in the neigh borhood of Truckce, as Mr. Gieen was passing through the sleeping car where this fair charmer rested, he felt a hand clutch his coat, and turning, be held the lady, in a charming night toil et, sitting up in one of the lower bunks. 'Excuse me,' she said, 'but would you kindly remove this little bag, which has lammed between my mattress and the side of the car?' "The accommodating tourist thrust his head inside the curtain and the lady clutched Mr. Green around the neck and said: 'Now, my friend, if you don't hand me out $100 this minute, I'll cry out that you've attempted to as sault me, alarm every one in the car, and then we'll see what your wife will say.' "Of course Mr. Green passed out the money, and that was the end of bis little romance." Miss Priscilla. From the Chicago Ledger. "It is the most provokin* thing I ever had occur to me, Mr. Craft. The loss of $10,000 is not inconsiderable, but our business will stand the pres sure, I believe. A cool thousand is yours if you will secure the robber." "The reward is good I will do my best, Mr. Storms," I said, as I sat in a listening, half-thoughtful attitude, before the mine-owner. One week before, Luke Storms had been waylaid, knocked senseless and robbed, while driving from the town of Upgrade to the Crescent mine, of which he was sole owner. At Upgrade he had drawn the $10, 000 from the bank, all in national bank notes, and after a short waiting in the town, set out on horse-back to regain the Crescent, one of the then best-paying silver mine in Colorado. Soon after the robbery, the mine owner having heard of my vocation from a friend, called me to his house and gave me an acr^uori^trouoio, concluding, RU .fe arrest of the man who him of his money. "Have you many acqu the town of Upgrade?" I finally. "Several." "Name them." The trail that I followed led through a wild country, over rocky hills, through deep-wooded depressions, al together a gloomy journey, and when I arrived at the spot where the miner, Storms, had been waylaid and rob bed, I involuntarily came to a halt. At the left gurgled a shallow brook, fringed with bushes a bridge spanned the water just ahead, and on the right was a dense thicket, beyond which a lofty ridge raised upward sev eral hundred feet. It was from this thicket that the ob ject had been hurled that had sent Mr. Storms senseless from his saddle. As I sat in the saddle looking abc with one hand on the but of mj volver, a sharp scream in adv beyond the bridge, attracted tention. A female in distress. I at once spurred forward! and turning a point of rock,,r-»aine tijporj a scene that _gu.LvAxed my sympathies./ Beside the road was a female—a j" oeautiful young girl, wringing her hands and wailing beside a dead horse that lay on the ground in the narrow road between the shafts of a light ve hicle. Evidently the animal, a rather sorry beast, had been stricken down suddenly, and the lady thus deprived ,of a mode of conveyance most unex pectedly. "Oh, sir, I am so glad you came, cried the girl, wringing her pink and white little hands in a helpless way and transfixing me with a pair of the most beautiful eyes I had ever beheld "I've been trying ever &o hard to in duce Homer to rise up. He fell quick as a flash. Oh, dear, I don't know what to do." "Your horse is de$d, Miss," I said as I sprang to the ground and—f-£e a brief examination. k "Dead! Poor Homer!" 1 With clasped hands thegift her fallen beast, while tears'1' heavenly blue eyes. I glanof as she stood there, and mij sented that she was the most day learned frade •ded .« her ft her as pvely female I had ever looked upon. I She could not have been o\i"e 20, and there was an artless exppBsion of countenance that was altogether charming. "I was intending to visit Upgrade," she said, in answer to an inquiry, and after her first deep emotions had sub sided. "I have a brother living there, and a sister upon the hills, I rode out with brother Frank two days ago, and yesterday he was compelled to return, and so he took the stage, leav ing me to drive in with Homer and the vehicle. I was elated at the progress I had made, when poor Homer drop ped as though he had been shot. What can we do sir?" "I will put my horse in the shafts I am on my way to Upgrade, and you will not be delayed long, after all." "You are very kind sir. What name—" "Williams," I said quickly. Even under the influence of this girl's mar velous beauty I was not led to give my true name and character. "And I am Priscilla McDonald. I feel sure we shall get on very nicely, you are so kind." Miss McDonald adjusted herself to circumstances with naivete that was truly charming, and very flattering to myself. I was not Ions in exchanging the living for the dead, and then, seated beside Priscilla, I gave the horse rein, and soon was whirled from the vicin ity of the accident. I left my fair passenger at the door of one of the most imposing dwellings in the frontier city, she informing me that Frank would care for the vehicle, and rode my horse to the "Great Bear," the principal hotel in the town. The time was now evening. When I moved to consult my watch I met with a startling discovery. My handsome cold chronometer, with its heavy chain, was gone! I stood stunned for an instant, realizing that I had been robbed. I at once remembered my adventure on the road from the Crescent to Up grade. When I left the mine I had consulted my watch, so that the loss had certainiy occurred between the hour of my departure and the pres ent. I was chagrined when I thought that the sweet Miss McDonald had cunningly duped aaafe- robed me. It was hard for even tug tQ believe ill of the young lady, anw it was barely possible that the had taken place after I reached Upgrade, since I had mingled with the guests in the of fice and card-room. Although suspected, Priscilla Mo Donald was not yet condemned. I said nothing of my loss, but con cluded to investigate quietly. I did 10 that evening, and the following L_ that Priscilla McDonald was visiting at one of the best homes in the citv, and was looked upon with exceedinu favor by the town. Two days later 1 received an tion to attend invita a grand party at the residence of one of the silver kings. The invitation came through a friend, and accepted it, hoping to again meet my charmer of the mountain wagon-trail. I was not disappointed. I met Priscilla again, in an attire that gave her the look of an angel one thing only was lacking—wings! She was glad to see me, and I seem ed tho favored one in the room until a late arrival appeared in the person of my friend of the mines, Luke Storms. I was not a little surprised at seeing the mine-owner, and what surprised me still more was the fact that he seemed on friendly terms with Priscil la McDonald, and at once usurped the place I had occupied. This was a revelation to me. /Luke Storms was and the offer ofJ$ 1,000 for an'dTliss McDonald was as mercenary robbed as the rest of her sex. Disgusted with intancei He did so, each one being a famfciar one to me, since I had been some w«|fks in the town looking up another tifiil, which I believed led in another direc tion. when Storms induced me to listen to his troubles. "I will give a week to your case, Mr. Storms," I said "that is all the time I can spare now." "I am sorry," he said "you can do nothing in so short a time." "That remains to be seen," I re turned,and then bidding the mine-own er adieu, I turned my face toward Up grade mounted on a fleet horse. 50, a widower, had a family of grown children \XA lie east. What right had he to bask ill the smiles of this young girl? Fur thermore, what right had^ she so jyouna, to accept a^.C'InAJtf' atten •tifta9® Money! That was the key so the mystery, myself and other people in general, 1 walked outside among the vines and trees. Finding a rustic seat I sat down, leaned my aching head against a tree and fell into a doze. From this state I was roused by the murmer of voices. I sat upright sud denly and cautiously. A sweet, scarce ly perceptible perfume filled the atmos phere, and I caught the flutter of a white dress. "I have the old fool completely in the toils, Nick "Hist, woman! Not that name here. You know that the people of Up- would not rest easy did they now whom they had entertained so royally during the past month—call me Frank, still." The voices were attuned to a low key, almost a whisper, and could not be heard a dozen feet away. It was a lucky accident that placed me with in six feet of the two. The only thing 3 feared was discovery. "Frank it is. The old chap is ripe for plucking it is all arranged, and to-morrow night the hour." "Good. At what place?" "That remains to be arranged." "How much swag?" "Twenty thousand." "Good again. Your beauty is valu able, my pert Priscilla." Then they moved away, and I sat rooted to the spot in unspeakable sur prise. en the woman was so uncere nrously shut off at the word Nick I st d. I knew one Nick Wild«y^,'-a"n es^d or whom a large rewaTnacl been two years stan/T—the very case that had uidught me to the silver hills when .ut i re ance at- 1 Storms induced me to turn aside to look after his robber. I realized with no little satisfaction that I might kill two birds with one stone. My wits were about me now, and I resolved not to be caught nap ping. Early the next day I met Storms. He questioned me as to my progress on the case in hand. "I am on the trail," Isaid, and that was all the confidence he received from me. I did not question him regarding Miss McDonald, knowing full well that he would be angry, but I watched his every movement as a cat would watch a mouse. During the day a boy delivered a note to the mine owner, which after reading and smiling over, he thrust carelessly into a side pocket of his coat. While taking a friendly cigar with him, a little later, I dexterously ap propriated the note for my own bene fit, knowing that if he missed it he would never know that I had filched it. Ten minutes later I was alone and had the note under my eye. "You DEAR OLD DUCK: All is arranged. At the little slab house under the bluff, 10 sharp, remember. "PRISSY." I could not forbear a smile at the wording, and yet when I remembered how badly I had been hit by the siren I could not wholly blame the mine owner for his infatuation. "So," I muttered, 'the little slab house under the bluff,' I will see about that." I resolved now to secure the services of several friends and keep LukeStorms company to the trysting pla^e of his inamorata, but, of course, we were to remain in the back ground. I will now give what took place in the mine-owner's oase as I afterward learned it from his own lips: He had partiaBy bargained with pretty Miss McDonald to marry her secretly on the following evening, but the hour and place had not been des ignated until he received the note I so soon filched from his pocket. "Brother Frank would be terribly put out did he imagine that I was to marry a man twice my years," ex plained Priscilla, "and so we must be married in secret." Blinded by his infatuation the mine-owner agreed to meet her at some out-of-the-way place, and there con summate their happiness, she agree ing to find a suitable person to per form the ceremony. The most suspicious circumstance was that Storms was induced to draw aJl his available funds from the bank, and as soon as the marriage was con summated it was agreed to take the midnight train for the eas*r-Tt' was a neatly-arranged little scheme. Old Storms fell into the trap. He knew where the slab house was, under the bluff half a mile out of Upgrade. Drawing his money about the mid dle of the afternoon, Storms passed the remainder of the day, up to near 10, in a nervous manner. He hurried on foot to the scene of the contemplated marriage. A light was burning in the slab house, and Storms was quickly admitted by Pris cilla herself. "You dear, darling old duck you." She kissed and hugged him, and then led him to a seat. Of course after this Storms was gone. He hadn't the mor al courage of a mouse, and Priscilla had her way with him. The minister will soon be here," she said, at length, "and—there he is now!" The door opened and a man cross ed the threshold—not a pious clergy man, but a man in a mask. "Mercy!" And then Priscilla uttered ft irfld scream and sprang from the side of her old lover. "Hand over your money," uttered a stern voice, and the demand was backed by a gleaming revolver. What could he do but obey? Even yet the villainous plot did not dawn upon his mind, but as the man in mask Dent to take the money from the hand of the trembling mine-owner, two stalwart men sprang from the shadows upon him and crushed him to the floor. The woman had sped from the house in simulated alarm, and rushed into my arms. "Keep quiet, Miss Priscilla, and I will not harm you." She struggled and screamed, but be fore she realized what had occurred 1 had the steel bracelets over her wrists. "Now, my charmer, I think we are quits you stole my watch, and I will send you to prison," I said" wxth a low laugh. "Nick—Nick Wilder, help!" "Quiet, my duck, Nick can't help you now," I said mockingly. It was my turn to laugh. Then I led her in side where my two companions had se cured the notorius Frank, alias Wil der, forger and robber. I bad a pho^ tograph of the man. and recognized him at once, although he had altered his looks as much DOM'bjp *UlCL And Pr'°":" ohe proved to be the forger's wife, and a most useful ally. It was Wil der who had nabbed Storms, begetting information from the woman who had completely infatuated the minor. As for tJ^j dead horse on the wagon trail, it was a ruse to gain sheckels from any traveler who might chance to come upon the scene. The woman was an expert pickpocket. I regained my watch, and had the satisfaction of seeing both husband and wife im prisoned for a term of years. Arab Horses. English Paper. Men who are fond of horses—which probably includes the majority ol our readers—will be glad to read a summary of the doings of the Arabs on which the detachment of the nine teenth Hussars was mounted, who as sisted in the expedition for the relief of Khartoum. They averaged 14 hands ranged from 8 to 12 years old, and were bought in Syria and Lower Egypt at an average price of £18. Ten per cent or them were at Tel-el-Kebir, and half of them had gone through the exhausting campaign in the east ern Soudan. On December 30th 40 of them made the reconnoissance to Gakdul, 100 miles, in 63 hours, rest ed there 15 hours, and returned in 63 hours, 6 of them doing the last 50 miles in 7 1-2 hours. From January 8th to the 19th 135 officers and men, with 155 horses, started across th« Bayuda desert with General Stewart's column. The average ration for th« first ten days was 5 to 9 pounds oi grain, and 2 gallooe-* 0t water, and th« horses -niiles a day. On th nnlii advance to Matammeh th horses marched to the Nile withoui having a drop of water for 25 hours and only 1 pound of grain, and som« 15 to 20 of them had no water foi 70 hours. The horses were saved ai much as possible they were marchec in a wide front, so that each hors had plenty of air, and the men dia mounted constantly and led theii horses. The distance actually march edfrompoint to point was 1,500miles not including reconnoissances, etc.' and the late Colonel Barrow, wh sends this report, which Sir Fredericl Roberts has issued as a general orde to the Indian army, ventures to thinl that this performance will com Eorsemen are with the performances of anj on record. A BacK-Load for Faith. The so called "faith cure" has beej given a good many severe tests, bu| few of them have been heavier tha imposed upon it by a convert to th belief in Jersey City. A stout woman relating her experience in the "Moun Zion Sanctuary" in that city one Sun day, confessed that she was one "troubled with too much voluptuous ness." To be more exact, she said "I was so fat that I couldn't wall two blocks. I took 'anti-fat' and grew fatter. I came to the Moun' Zion Sanctuary a few months ago and then I decided to pray to be les voluptuous. When I began to pray weighed 375 pounds. Now I weigl 300." If faith alone has done this, it it truly of the sort that "removes mount ains." A scoffing and a sceptica generation, however, will be inclined to believe that the walks to thesanct uary or a less liberal indulgence in starchy, sugary and fatty food abat ed the seventy-five pounds of super fluous tissue. Abstinence and exercise have been known to cure obesity wiiich the victim in this case very fun nily confounds with voluptuousness but it would indeed be a nvracle if praying should counteract a constitu tional tendency towards adipose tissue encouraged by sloth and gormandiz in& The female Falstaffian recruit in the camp of Mount Zion would do well to combine fasting with her pray ers, if she has not already done so. Even three hundred pounds of volup tuousness is an overload for the ordi nary nineteenth century of faith.—N. Y. World. The Enthusiastic Border Heroes. Mass meetings in Arizona are eulo gizing General Miles and Captain Law ton for ridding that Territory of hos tile Apaches. The fervid Western in tellect can scarcely frame senteneet* strong enough in which to laud the "rigorous policy" of General Miles, and the "bravery and military skill" of Captian Lawfcon and his soldiers. Those officers aredoubtless well pleas ed to know that a dangerous and dis agreeable task has been well done, but they are able, at the same time, to measure the value of praises coming from men who but a short month ago gave them nothing but ridicule and abuse. One thing the soldiers, officers and privates of the army in Arizona can truthfully say: None of theii suc cess is due to aid from the people by whom they were surrounded. The I thousands of cowboys, rustlers, gam biers, hardy frontiersmen, who do so much to form public sentiment in the Territory, did not take a scalp in the whole Apache war. They are evident ly not the stuff out of which came the early settlers of Massachusetts, Con necticut, New York, Ohio, Virginia, and Kentucky. Cooper would have hunted in vain among them for a hero, and the dime novelist must rely entirely on his imagination in relating their exploits. The ecstacies of a population of a hundred thousand people in getting rid of thirty Apache Ducks is a queer commentary upon border courage and self-reliance.— Army and Navy Register. CONFi:iI I? ATE SAL. Straw Story if a Wom*n'» lift Death. ut frail# "Confederate Sal!" The name struck me as it fell from the lips of a veteran who was exchang ing war reminiscences with two or three friends. I watched my oppoitu nity, and soon had the satisfaction oi seeing the group disperse, with the ex ception of the man who had attracted my attention. We casually drifted into a conversation, and 1 remarked that the mention ct "Confederate Sal had excited my curiosity. "Was she one of the heroines of the war?" I a3ked. "Well, no," was the reply, "it would take a considerable stretch of the im agination to make her a heroine, but she was a right lively character in her day." "TelL jnew«* I me story." said I, as I tendered a fresh cigar to my acquaint ance. "Story, bless you, there is none to tell," answered the old soldier, strik inga match. "She was just Confeder ate Sal, and that is all there is in it. She was a woman, you know, who was up in Tennessee with the army, knock ing around in the camps. We simply couldn't stand her any longer, and we put her out of the way." "Put her out of the way." "Yes. and it is a rather remarkable thing that although I was in the war four years I do not know that I had a hand in the killing of any human be ing with the exception ol Confederate Sal." "Who was she?" "The Lord knows. She made her first appearance as a sort of peddler, sel ling stationery and other little tricks. She was rather good looking and had some dash about her. Before long we found that she wouldn't do. Several times she was ordered off, but the first thing we knew she would turn up again, in a few days, sometimes wearing a private's uniform. She was deter mined to stick to us and we couldn't get rid of her. "Was she a spy?" "I don't think she was. I think loyalty to the Confederacy was the one solitary virtue that shepossessed. In several skirmishes I saw her pick up a musket and fight like a tigress. No, I don't think she ever played ua false." "And yet she seemed to b#» ly obnoxior-*J-' ~Dne was, sir and there was a good reason for it. That woman, su, was drunk half the time. I have known her to break up a council of war by forcing her way into the general's tent when she was howling drunk. She not only drank herself, but smuggled liq uor into camp and made the soldiers drunk. Oh, she was a terror.'*' "She went on from bad to worse," continued my companion, "and macta herself a most unbearable nuisance- No doubt the liquor she drank effect ed her brain and it certainly viable her a physical wreck and destroyed what little beauty she had. Towards the last she developed a wonderful cunning, the shrewdness, perhaps, of insanity, but I did not think of such. 1 an explanation at the time, or I might have been more merciful. Sometimes when we were in quarters for weeks at a time, the general's wife came to vis it him, and stopped at some convenient farm house within the lines. When Confederate Sal found it out she tried a new racket How she got her money was a mystery, but she would ride upi very nicely dressed to a house andtefll the inmates that she was the general's wife and desired board for a few daysi, as she wished to be as near as possibia to her husband. Of course she woiaJd be given the best room and the fomiiiy would do their best to make Wr com fortable. Next day she wouU) ride of! to camp and come back gloriously boozy. Then the ladies of the family would put their heads together and say that it was an outrageous shame for the general to give the lady liquor when she went to see him, that oi course she wasn't used to strong drink and couldn't stand it. After another day or two the woman would appear at the house in a state of beastly in toxication, and use such language as to shake the inmates. Then our offi cers would be approached and asked how our general came to have such a wife, and, you understand, the whole truth would come out." "Did she run that schedule often?" "Several times. As the general's: wife she made bills in the neighboring towns, borrowing money, bought. horses, and boarded with the nicest people in that part of Tennessee. Well,, sir, the queerest rumors imaginable* got out about the general. His char acter was nearly ruined in Richmond on account of these rumors, ami hi wife, one of the noblest ladies that ever walked the earth, becaiue an ob ject of suspicion among tb,e strangers, who were not acquaiatedL with the facts." "You said that confederate Sal was killed?" "Certainly, so she was. You know those were rough times, and human life was not very valuable. One day we found that Sal had been cutting up in a particularly disgraceful way at a. gentleman's house near the river. She had passed herself off as the general's wife, and the very first night walked, into the' parlor drunk as a biled owl and scattered the company by danc ing the can-can. She was put out of the house and fell into the hands of some of the boys who were passing. I was along: with the crowd. We saw that there was all sorts of a row in progress and, after stopping long enough to get the drift of it, we took Confedf^te Sal and bustled her to the river twnk. We told her that we were gc%ittg to throw her in, and if she wa^ed to live she must strike for the «©posittv shore. If she came back on, our side we would kill her. Sal juustj gritted her teeth and swore like a trooper% but we pushed her into the waiter "The night was dark and we could not see well. We watched and waited a while, and heard a choking cry for help. But there was no pity in that, crowd. Either the woman could not. swim or she was too drunk. Anyway, she went under, and the strong cur rent swept her down the river. And that was the last of Confederate Sal!" —Atlanta Constitution. The number of farms in New Eng land increased from 184,004 in 1860 to 187,252 in 1880. The value of these farms increased in the same pe riod from $476,204,447to $580,721, 138.