WB£
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.