Pittston Gazette

              l Oldest f'ewsoauer in the Wyoming Valley PITTSTON, LUZERNE CO., PA., FRIDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1890. A WeeKly Local and Familv Journal. i""'"".i."" quest. The girl stood for a moment irresolute, blushing with vexation. grocer. "I haven't said a word about money. I just brought you thi3 young man, who is looking for a job. You'd oblige me if you could give him a position of some kind in the office or the factory."She wormed his innoct nt secrets out ol him, and obtained finally a confession of all his misdeeds. He felt so desperately wicked in having won the love of Ingerid, and then spurned it, that it was a great relief to him to be able to call himself hard names in the presence of a sympathetic listener. He did not fail to perceive that Mathilda, while condemning his faithlessness, looked upon him with a livelier interest after this confidence, and ho could not help feeling darkly heroic in the midst of all his wickedness. heart to blame her if she had proposed to him a systematic transgression of the ten commandments, beginning with the first and ending with the tenth. A BREACH OF FAITH ly beautiful to the guileless young fellow. Her straw colored hair, with a lot of frizzy curls hanging down over her forehead, impressed him particularly. Her features were small and fine, but there was a consciousness of the admiration she excited in the way she carried her attractive blonde head. it, and no said it w.w tiiy devil tempting me. I thought f or a whilt he was right. My wife agreed with tho parson; I was of no use to her and gave her many a bitter hour. I had 110 choice but to break away. She herself consented to it. Hard and toilsome, but not unhappy years followed. I found my work and I bless God for that. I have not known a really unhappy hour since, though I have suffered from remorse and a longing for those who are dear to me." JAY'S LITERARY EFFORT. UUiilh "I guess you'll be sorry for it some day," she murmured, and rejoined her companion. After this delightful reconciliation Gunnar accepted Mr. Norman's offer and installed himself in two pleasant rooms overlooking Lake Michigan. And Mathilda, who perhaps overestimated her hold upon his affections, resolved to postpone the execution of her plan until a more favorable moment.. BILL NYE WRITESi A BELATED RE- Bj HJALMAB HJORTH BOYESEN. Her implied championship of Gunnar did not tend to mollify his antagonists. He had scarcely walked two steps at her side when a large piece of wood knocked his hut off and raised a bump on the side of his head. With the pain his anger flared up. He darted back to the woodpile, grabbed Thorsten Sletten, whom he suspected of being his assailant, by the leg and dragged him down. One of the stakes which confined the logs broke, and the whole pile tumbled down pell inell with the young men on top of it. Some of them got painful bumps and scratches, which did not improve their temper. One by one, as soon as he got upon his legs, rushed at Gunnar with clinched fists; and the latter, finding himself attacked on all sides, struck right and left, little heeding whom or where he hit. It was a most unfair battle—six against one. Ingerid's blood boiled as she saw her companion surrounded, beaten and pommeled by those envious fellows, only because she had favorgd him. The manufacturer, bridling his impatience, fixed his eyes with a startled glance upon Gunnar. The Norse type in the youth was unmistakable—the frank blue eyes, half appealing in their trustfulness; the blonde hair brushed back from the forehead with a sort of rising wave; the short, strong, regular teeth, and a certain amiable in manner and bearing. NorxiDan saw perhaps even more; but knowing that his uneasy conscience was apt to play him tricks he dismissed the memories which rose up before him. VIEW OF MR. GOULD'S BOOK [Copyright. All rights reserved.] CHAPTER IV. Perhaps there was even a touch of I* Is a Wholly Moral Production and petulenco in her motions, like that of~a spoiled child who knows that everything it does is becoming. But Gunnar was not discerning enough to detect something a trifle stagey in this assumed youthfulness, nor did he observe the languishing look that stole into her eyes at odd moments, alternating with a look of dreary fatigue. She wore a long, thin gold chain about her neck to which » watch was attached, stuck in Norse fashion into the belt that encircled her waist. Many an admiring glance was stealthily sent toward her by the younger clerks, whom she studiously ignored. But she flirted with hysterical liveliness with a middle aged student recently arrived from Norway, whose deep beer bass and jaunty manners had evidently made an impression upon her. Can Bo Given to the Young with Per- When the feasting was at an end and a proper interval had been allowed for digestion the fiddlers tuned up their instruments and the dance commenced. The girls, in fresh calico and muslin dresses, stood squeezed together in the hall, giggling and whispering. Somebody among them was awfully witty, Kid made sarcastic observations on the men, which made the rest nearly explode with laughter. The young lads hung about the outskirts of the crowd, advanced and again retired with a sheepish air, as their courage failed them. The teasing encouragement of their friends and rivals, no less than the suppressed merriment of the girls, made them shrink from the decisive step. fect Safety—Finance and Humor to Go "Why then, did you not go to them?" asked Gunnar, in a voice which no effort could steady. Band in Hand. CHAPTER VIH. [Copyright by Edgar W. Nye.] What a lovely character, he argued, this gentle maiden must have to forgive all his past, and treat him with such kindness and sweet consideration. Why, knowing how disinterested she was, should he hold back from her his other and far moro important secret? Ha had repeatedly hinted at it in her pres. ence, and though her curiosity had been vaguely piqued she had failed to rise to the occasion. She treated his mysterious allusions as if she only half believed them, and replied to his dark observations with an absent minded vivacity which tried him sorely. He felt at last that his self resp&ct compelled him to reveal the plot of which he was both victim and author. He was irritated beyond all endurance, and anticipated with a morbid satisfaction the sensation he would make when he should explode his bomb. But here he was again destined to disappointment. The shrewd Mathilda betrayed no great astonishment. He saw by the glance she gave him from under her long lashes that she thought he was romancing, but was too considerate to tell him so. He had then no choice but to produce his proof, and when Mathilda finally had no choice but to believe him ho could no longer charge her with indifference. It required no great ingenuity on Gunnar's part to discover Mr. Norman's object in taking him into his house. Under the pretense of giving him work he was really giving him lessons in mechanical drawing and construction of machines. The manufacturer was a man of genius in his way, self taught,Joving work and glorying in it. Ho had a workshop at the top of his house fitted out with exquisitely finished tools and mechanical appliances of many kinds. There he spent his happiest hours, experimenting with his inventions and models for improvements in machinery. He was impatient of dullness and often irritable. But on the other hand his wrath was shortlived, and he was anxious to heal by kindness the wounds which his hard words sometimes inflicted. It is about time, it seems to me, that I should dally a little with the literati and speak a few words pro and con regarding authors and their works. Unfortunately I am a great bookworm and an omnivorous reader. Lately I have been able, through the influence of Mr. Champion, of Stamford, N. Y., who is the veteran editor of the state, having run the same paper, I think, for over forty years, to obtain a copy of "The History of Delaware County," by my friend and fellow litterateur Mr. Jay Gould. "Young man, it may seem foolish to you if I say that I never had the time," answered Norman, flinging himself again into the arm chair, "but for all that it is the fact. My work has possessed me like a first love which kept me awake at night. I postponed and again postponed doing my duty, because I dreaded to see tho Norwegian parsons in my house until I should feel strong enough to fight them on their own ground. I assumed the name Norman simply to escape the same influence in my life. I wanted to be wholly an American and take the place to which my ability entitled me in the American community. I could never have done that if I had assumed again the spiritual yoke which it cost mo such a dire struggle to throw off." "What can the young man do?" he asked in a matter of fact tone, turning to Lawson. •'Oh, 1 guess he can do almost any thing." "That's the same as to say that he can do nothing." "I reckon that he can earn his board and lodging, and that is about all he expects to do for the present." WE HOPE TO APPEAR IN SOME CHOICE The book is to be quoted no\.' at $40 per volume, owing to its great scarcity and the fact that Mr. Gould is on the watch for all the copies he can get, and that he is said to destroy them as soon as they are secured. No money could purchase my own volume, I assure you, for it is thoroughly pure in tone, and no one can read it without becoming a better man. question he had as usual blown his horn at noon, when five Indians,- equipped and armed for fight, presented themselves at his door and demanded redress for ,.ihe insult he had given to the authority "of the association. A spirited and angry discussion ensued, when they were compelled to retreat from the premises to the tuna-of the 'Old King's Arm Shell.' READINGS, This was the situation when Gunnar and John Lawson came sauntering thipogh the hall in earnest conversation. The grocer, seeing the girls, suddenly lost his interest in Hans Matson's disappearance, and with a jaunty air strolled up to the blushing throng. Gunnar hated that man, and wondered whether the time would ever come when he would be able to talk in such a superior style and behave with such magnificent nonchalance in the presence of a lady. In the meantime he had his hands full in maneuvering properly with knife, fork and napkin. When, in spite of his watchful observation of his neighbors, he happened to put string beans on his butter plate his anxious glance instantly wandered to Miss Tonneson and the student with the beer bass. The former seemed to be on the point of exploding with laughter, while the latter's face exhibited only a little smile of superior pity. Gunnar felt the blood mount to his head, and a slight dizziness seized him. The great world in which he now was launched was a more complicated affair than he in his innocence had dreamed. He lost his appetite, and contented himself with taking notes on the appetites of the rest. It was a great relief to him when finally the dinner was at an end. "Very well, I'll find him a place. It is a pity he doesn't understand English."He fought for a while manfully, returning blow for blow, and neither asking nor receiving quarter. But he was gradually getting the worst of it. She saw his flushed face above the knot of combatants, every muscle strained, his teeth clinched in savage wrath and a flash in his eye of desperate resolution. Th(§n suddenly down he went, tripped tip by some tricky foot, and the otheis fell upon hiih Mke raging hounds. The "You may well say so; and he was born in the state of Minnesota." "Great Scott! Don't I know the work of those blasted parsons! A native ol the United States, 18 or 19 years old, who doesn't understand the languag« of his country! You'd have to travel all over the globe to find another case like it. But those little Lutheran popes, they know what they are about. From the moment their people learn English and can assimilate American ideas they are lost to the parson. They can nc longer be guided and bullied and threatened with eternal damnation if they think a little for themselves, and indulge a little heresy on the subject of the infallibility of the Norwegian Lutheran synod." "The worst thing about the world," he said to Gunnar one day, while they were working side by side in their shirt sleeves, "is not that it is bad, but that it is stupid. Look at all those great, strong, fine Scandinavian fellows who come ovei here every year by the thousand. They are too stupid to see the chances which this country offers to every man with a sound heart and a sound brain. They allow themselves to be burdened with the old yoke which they bore at home; nay, they themselves invite their taskmasters, the Lutheran parsons, to come after them and put a ring through their noses and lead them by the straight and narrow path of Lutheran orthodoxy to an imaginary paradise where, after having worked all their lives for the parsons, they are to work no more. What folly! what monstrous stupidity! Work no more! As if work were a curse instead of being the greatest blessing that God has given to man." "Then it is as a burden you take back wife and child?" asked Gunnar, with a resentful glance. "My, my, how pretty we are," he exclaimed with an exaggerated mock admiration, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling and making absurd grimaces. "I wonder who is the prettiest of you, for I mean to have the prettiest or none." After reading a chapter of Count Leo Tolstoi and then burning a rag I love to take down Mr. Gould's "The History of Delaware County" and read it till far into the silent night. "Smarting under this unwelcome defeat," says Mr. Gould, "a second company was dispatched the following Tuesday to enforce submission, and with instructions to seize the gun and horn, and if necessary mete out to Mr. Gould a salutary coat of tar and feathers. The sun had just arrived at the meridian when, a favorable opportunity presenting itself, the signal whoop vas given, and the savage horde, springing from their hiding places, and with demon like yells, rushed up and surrounded Mr. Gould, who was standing with his little son in the open air in front of the house. "We were that son." "Oh, no, I love them; I have longed after them. I want them!" cried his father, starting up again and resuming his restless walk. He gently pushed himself into the midst of the crowd, while the girls drew back about him, laughing at his delightful wit. Some pushed back and thus it happened that Ingerid Gretna was thrust right into Lawson's arms,which promptly closed about her waist. She was seriously annoyed and tugged and pulled to get herself free. U-.0'i out i.i m-'t'i'iu a i, , ijuving "But I know I can never make it plain to you how you can love a person and yet deplore certain phases of her character. Once my wife came near subjugating me, and from the best of motive! crushing out that which was noblest and most precious in me. As long as ] feared that I feared her. Now I fear il no longer and I can afford to let hei know that I love her." The book contains 426 pages and two steel plate engravings of men who had agreed to subscribe for it. It is bound in slate colored cloth, and shows in every page the lofty purity and noble impulses of the struggling young author. t r.a!s and terrified: for an inst stood speecbliss, than borne along by a mighty impulse sho rushed into the midst of the fighters, grabbed the first one she got hold of by the shoulders and flung him aside. It was Thorsten Sletten.t uhe She betrayed an alacrity and an indignation on his behalf which were extremely flattering. He felt with gratified vanity how immensely he had risen in her esteem. Unsophisticated thongh he was he observed that she dressed with more care for their lessons and exerted all her arts to please in a way which formerly would never have occurred to her. It was an intoxication of bliss to sit at her 6ide on her sofa, while her hair grazed his cheek and her hand sometimes by some vagrant impulse stole into his, and her dark blue eyes suddenly flashed upon him a glance full of tender meaning. She could put o» 8 look of such appealing Innocence tnax Gunnar had to exert all his self restraint to keep himself within bounds. A wild desire seized him more than once to clasp her in his arms and cover her face with kisses, but at such momenta bis fancy would conjure up the sweet face of Ingerid with tearful eyes and lips quivering in infantine distress, and the sense of his own baseness would overwhelm him and sober his passion. I cannot help while reading "The History of Delaware County" contrasting its beautiful purity with the ferocious and savage cussedness of Tolstoi. We could hardly imagine two more widely and diametrically toilers in th« great field of literature than Jay Goult) and Tolstoi. One is gentle, refined and pure; the other a gifted crank. I have spoken heretofore to some extent of Mr. Gould's methods in business, criticising them in an honest yet unsparing way, hoping thereby to call his attention to the fact that at his time of life, with all his means, he might do so much good and die so much happier if he would pause in his mad race with mammon to enjoy and invite others to enjoy the interest on his accumulating millions. "Oh, shame on yon!" she cried, "Gently, gently, my beauty," said Lawson, "I won't bite you, my dear. You needn't be afraid of John Lawson." Thorsten sent her a surly sidelong glance and walked off, trying to hide his resentment and mortification under an air of bravado. In another moment she had gotten hold of another offender, who likewise slunk off with muttered curses, and the others, unwilling to light a girl, got up hastily and took to their heels. Last of all Guunar roso, with slow and deliberate motions, and turned toward her a red, swollen face, with white blotches and a streak of his This was, as Lawson knew, a sore topic with Norman. He was intensely American in sentiment, and railed against the Norwegian clergy for isolating their countrymen from the national life and discouraging them from learning the English language. They talked on for about an hour, and Gunnar without undisguising himself assumed the proposed mission. He began dimly to comprehend that his father, driven and impelled by his genius, which was an overmastering force in his life, could not be judged by the same standard as lesser men. But just as he had risen to reoeive Mr. Norman's thanks something touched him with a cold horror and sent a shudder down his back. His revenge! His wretched revenge! He was about to dishonor his father just aa he was showing himself most honor able. But she was afraid all the same, and cast imploring glances at Gunnar, who stood by, looking at the scene without thought of interfering. Here is where Mr. Gould slips a grammatical cog: He for the moment seems to anticipate his own future and regard himself as the president, board of directors, general passenger agent and conductor; and, even if it be proper to use the plural first person under those circumstances, would it not have been more elegant to have said "that son was us?" It seems so, we think, to the thinking mind. The next day he went in search of his friend John Lawson, whom he found in a dingy grocery shop on Milwaukee avenue, looking far less dazzling than on the occasion of their last meeting. He communicated to him his purpose to seek his father, and asked Lawson if he could now recall the name by which he was known. The grocer, seating himself on a barrel of flour, fell into a brown study. "I wish you would let me go, Mr. Lawson," begged the girl with a flushed, excited face. "I do wish you'd let me There was a petulant annoyance in her voice which Lawson interpreted as mere mock modesty, and even when the tears started to her eyes he could not persuade himself that she was in earnest. "Why, 1 do really believe we are crying," he said in surprise. "Well, well; yon won't even dance with ma?" "I am engaged to dance the first dance with Gunnar Matson," cried Ingerid, resotting to a bold fiction in her anxiety to •scape from the odious fellow's arms. Gunnar, starting up as from a dream "I'd pay that young fellow a good salary if he had had an English common school education," ho went on indignantly, "but in order to keep his pure Lutheran faith undiluted he has been allowed to grow up in ignorance in a parochial school, fed on the husks ol doctrinal squabbles and studiously kept an alien in the midst of this rich and magnificent country, to be a citizen oi which ought to be a source of pride tc any man." Taciturn as his chief usually was, Gunnar prepared himself for an hour's discourse when he by chance stumbled upon the parsons. Unjust he was, no doubt, and one sided, as persons of his temperament are apt to be; but for all that Gunnar could not help being influenced by what he said, which with all its exaggerations contained not a little truth. Strive as he might he could not suppress a sneaking kindness for the man whom he persistently regarded as his enemy. What sort of heart must a left cheek. He looked at h^r shy, awkward glance, at wh:, sense of championship forsook she felt a strange weakness'in The crimson flush flared out upon her cheeks, and she found it imp- wablo to utter a word. Had she not b : foolish in allowing her heart to run away with her? She had put him in a humiliating position, and though she would have liked to beg his pardon she did not know how to frame the difficult words. And yet she had meant well. It was horribly perplexing. But why did he not speak? He ought to have had tho generosity to say something, if only to relieve her awkwardness. She watched him with a dim sense of guilt, through which a slow resentment glowed, while he wiped his bloody cheek with the sleeve of his coat and pulled himself together to recover his wonted attitude. When he had as nearly as possible effaced all traces of the combat he looked about to see if they were observed. Ingerid's heart leaped tnto her throat. He was now surely going to thank her. ii r. 11 iier r.nd Ir.isas. But later on Jay says, "Oh, the agony of my youthful mind as I expected every moment to behold him prostrated, a lifeless corpse upon the ground!" In this sentence he again resumes the singular number. He also refers with much vigor to tho great lack of vitality so noticeable in a corpse. In this, however, he is not alone. Others have noticed it. It only remained for a trenchant pen like that of this virile young author to describe it. "Wliat'll you give me?" he asked, suddenly lifting his head, "if I put you on voni dad's track?" But perhaps there was yet time. It was 10 o'clock, and the papers scarcely went to press until 1 or 2 in the morning. With his head in a whirl he rushed out of the front door, hired a horse at a neighboring stable and drove to Vickei Park. There he had a stormy interview with Mathilda, in which a dainty little cloven hoof of mercenary interest peeped forth all too plainly from under the embroidered skirts. She had a check for $50 in her pocket which she had received from The Daily Trombone for the spicy revelations regarding Mr. Norman's wickedness, and she was naturally reluctant to part with it. But in return for Gunnar's promissory note for $150 she finally released her tight little clutch and gave it up; but like a great many people who are too clever for their own good, Mathilda had really outwitted herself. She had made $100, but she had lost a lover. She had a dim presentment when her excitement had cooled that Gunnar's love for her had received a mortal wound; and in this presentment she was right. But as a fellow author I have nothing but admiration for him and praise for his work. His language is highly grammatical in some places and his spelling is above the average. Of course I could criticise some of his methods; for instance, such as alluding to himself as "I" and then again as "we" a little farther down the page, but this might happen of course, for he no doubt wrote at times when he regarded himself as extremely singular, whilst at others he felt more plural. "Give you?" repeated Gunnar, feeling rather crestfallen, "I don't know that I have anything to give you." "Well, you must be smart enough to know that Hans Matson will scarcely thank mo for putting the old woman on the scent of him." Lawson, who had always tried to keef a safe middle ground on this question, being a Norseman among Norsemen and an American among Americans, regarded it as imprudent to commit him self, and therefore only nodded an equivocal approval and murmured: Gunnar saw Mr. Norman almost daily during these two years. He had an idea that his chief watched him, and during his constant unannounced rounds through the factory paid special attention to his work. He saw him frequently speak to the foreman of his division, and twice, after these conferences, Gunnar was promoted and his pay increased. When Mr. Norman addressed him, as he occasionally did, it was usually to ask him how he was getting on with his English. One day, when  bell had rung and all the other hands were hurrying away, Gunnar was so engrossed in a delicate piece of work which had been intrusted to him that he could not tear himself away. Suddenly, as he looked up, he saw the chief standing with his hands on his back gazing at him. As Gunnar paused, Mr. Norman took up tha piece of metal at which he had been filing and examined it critically. "Look here, Finn Varako," he said, "you are noA a bad workman." man have to ignore the bonds of blood, desert wife and child and trouble himself no more about the woman who loved bin* and grieved for him than if she had never existed? Mr. Norman's absorption in machinery and his enthusiasm on the marvels of nature filled the young man at times with a savage wrath which he could with difficulty repress. For what were steel and iron compared with flesh and blood? What were pitiless screws and levers compared to bleeding hearts and weeping eyes? It was not easy, indeed, to maintain in Mr. Norman's presence this hostile attitude. And had Gunnar had sufficient insight to know what a possession, what an imperious mania genius may be, he would have pardoned his father and loved him instead of persuading himself that he hated him. at the sound of his name, stood for an instant irresolute, but as soon as he took la the situation Btepped forward and released the girl. "Do you mean to say," exclaimed Gunnar wrathfully, "that my father is a Mr. Gould's book ca?mot fail to please those who love a turgid, clear cut style such as we find in a little book by an unknown author called the "List of Names and Numbers of Telephone Subscribers in the City of New York." There is no surplusage in the writings of Mr. Gould any more than there is in the treasury of his corporations after he has drawn his salary. His language is direct, forthwith and free from rhetorical ruchings. scoundrel?" "You must excuse me, Mr. Lawson," ha said, without the least excitement, "but since this is my dance youll have to b« content with the next." Be had no desire at all to dance, but of course when a girl appealed to him in distress he could not consult his own inclination. Lawson, who was not at all • bad fellow, gave an awkward laugh, and grabbed hold of the next girl in the crowd, who proved to be leas skittish. The ice was now broken, and the other lads, overcoming their baahfulness, started forward with one accord and swung a dozen more girls out upon the floor. Gunnar, when he had once begun to move to the rhythm of the music, felt a kind of intoxication in his blood, and he danced with a vehemence which must have taxed his partner's strength. There was a battle raging within him. This aweet, blonde, trustful girl whom he held in his arms, who responded so raxdiantly to every glance he sent her—she was his Norse past, and his Norse future, "Hush, hush, young man; not sq fast. I said nothing of the sort." "H'm, yes; that's a fact! wonder." Shouldn't It was soon settled that Gunnar was to be employed in the factory at a salary of $8 a week, with the promise of advancement as rapidly as ms useruinest warranted. He had sat gazing silently at the big railroad map which covered one wall of the office while Lawson and Norman settled his fate, being unable tc comprehend their language. It was a relief to him to follow the thick red linei across the continent, intersecting with thinner red lines and black lines, for it enabled him seemingly to divert his thought from the all absorbing consciousness which glowed and labored within him that this waa indeed his father. Indignation on his mother's account wai at first his uppermost feeling; but, on the other hand, it seemed difficult to believe ill of a man with a face like that of Mr. Norman. If he was a scoundrel, as Gunnar was compelled to believe that he was, he must have found it terribly hard work, for nature had never intended him to be a scoundrel. Yet the more he was to blame. Gunnar was in sore perplexity. A host of new ideas rushed in upon him. If his father was living under an assumed name it was quite obvious that he did not wish his family to find him. It was odd that that view of the case had not presented itself to him and his mother— his poor mother, who supposed that shame, poverty or misfortune kept him from returning to her! Well, come what might, he was resolved to sound th« mystery to the bottom. Mr. Gould haa a clear cut Western Union style of expressing himself by cutting out needless words, which cannot fail to meet with the indorsement of all good writers of good English. I think we should have Mr. Gould up at the Authors' club, and ask him to come and read from his works. Selections from the ticker and other little skits of his would be received with unbounded delight. - While he does not appeal perhaps bo' strongly to the passions or the supreme court as Tolstoi does he writes with a symmetrical, running style which reminds one of the "Proceedings of the State Dairyman's Association of Vermont.""I suppose you meant all right," he said in a resentful tone; "but another time I wish you wouldn't do it." For the past summer by accident I have been located in Delaware connty, which is nowadays a great summer resort for the elitei It was for many years the home of che Goulds, and every hill and valley was familiar to Jay, the bright young author. It was there that he got together the material and published his map of Delaware county. It was a bright and extremely attractive map, with pleasant, fragrant varnish on it. Although Mr. Gould does not think it begins to rank with some of his other and later literary work he does not in any way feel that it was unworthy of him. "But they were killing you, Gunnar," she cried in eager self justification. "Then you won't help me?" he said tc Lawson, who was yet sitting on the floui barrel trimming his nails with a pockei knife. He foresaw plainly that if he were to fill his role as avenging angel he must strike quickly and blindly before his larking affection should get the upper hand of him. Torn with conflicting emotions he hurried to Mrs. Tonneson's boarding house in Vicker park and took counsel with Mathilda. Seeing that she could not prevent the expose the shrewd damsel swiftly conceived a plan by which she might shield Gunnar from the consequences, and at the same time earn for herself a little cash, of which she was sorely in need, for a new dress. She persuaded her lover, with the aid of caresses and tender cajolery, to let her manage the affair, and he, after many remonstrances, finally acquiesced. Only there must be no delay. The blow must be struck at once. He feared, though he did not confess it, that if she gave him time for reflection his courage would desert him. The next day was Saturday, and Mathilda gave her word that in Sunday morning's papers Mr. Norman's cr nes should be properly trumpeted, with flaring headlines and spicy details. ' "Well, next fime let them kill me," he answered doggedly. The return of the check, the declaration of the falsity of the alleged revelations and the threat of a suit for libel sufficed, after considerable discussion, to make The Trombone renounce the promising sensation. Gunnar, to make assurance doubly sure, remained to see the manuscript and proof destroyed and the type redistributed. As he caught glimpses of such monstrous head lines, "A Double Life," "A Villain Unmasked," "A Rich Man's Crime," etc., he realized what a narrow escape he had had from committing a cruel and dastardly deed. Mr. Gould'ti name will be proposed at the fall meet of tho Author's club, of New York, .1 social organization which embraces such minds as my own and that of the author of "The Little Giant. Joke Book and Choice Songs for Circuses." I shall offer Mr. Gould's name, and shall ask to have it acted upon at once, so that be may avail himself of the privileges of our club. "Oh, how can you?" she moaned, too deeply wounded for tears. "I wish—I wish—I had never seen you." "That depends upon what you'll give,'' answered Lawson, intent upon his task. Gunnar blushed with pleasure. He had never heard Mr. Norman praise any one before. "I have nothing to give. I have scarcely enough to get along until I gel something to do." She felt weak and sore. Her heart seemed heavy as lead. The sunlight had a hard brightness which hurt her eyes. The world had lost its glory. "Have you any brothers?" asked the chief, after a while, aa he laid down th« metal. "Will you give me your note of hand for $500, payable in five years, for value received, if the clew I furnish you is correct, the note to be canceled if my clew is not correct?' -too—small aims and endeavors, an idyllic resignation and contentment in small things—a narrow concentration of interest upon food, clothes and petty economies, relieved by a little theological squabbling about the pure Lutheran faith. Even though such a life was all for which he had a right to aspire, would it ever satisfy him? The flashy grocer, Lawson, appeared to Gnnnar the very incarnation of success, and his jaunty bearing represented an unattainable ideal of manners. Why should not he too enter the race, and though he might not reach such an eminence as that of Lawson, why should he not content himself with a smaller measure of suc- "No. I have neither brothers nor sisters." Later on Mr. Gould and myself hope to appear in some choice readings from our own works. We will give a pure evening of refined thought that will take the taste out of one's mouth after reading Tolstoi. Nothing  will be read at all. Mr. Gould is now getting an upper register part in his voice, so that he can successfully hear himself in Chickering hall. CHAPTER V. To relate how Gunnar accomplished the difficult task to get away from home would require a long chapter. He wrung a reluctant consent from his mother after endless persuasion, by holding out to her the promise that he would bring his father back to her. The hope he had kindled in her heart flared up at times with a bright flame, and then died out again with a pathetic flicker. The mere possibility, however, that Hans might be alive imparted a new restlesspess to her thought and kept her waking and sleeping in a state of subdued agitation. She discovered with surprise how deep her attachment to him was and how impossible it was to sail her wonted •course of practical routine, now that this new beacon of hope had shed its light upon a wholly unsuspected region within her. A hot moisture often rose to her eyes at the sudden thought of seeing Hans Matson again after so many years of separation. All his aberrations were forgotten and forgiven, and the hard words they had spoken to each other when opinions clashed were as if wiped out from her memory. Curiously enough the idea never occurred to her that he had perhaps consciously deserted her. She found no end of ingenious excuses for him, feeling confident that whatever he had done he had been guidetl by noble motives. There were actually moments when her affection for her son, which had hitherto been the dominant sentiment of her life, paled before the passionate yearning for her lost and erring husband. "But suppose I am not worth $500 in five years?" The thought occurred to the young man, and had no sooner occurred than it took complete possession of his mind, that he would avenge upon this heartless adventurer the sorrow and suffering he had caused his poor, abandoned wife during all these years. But to do this he must follow Norman's example. He must disguise himself. What form hii vengeance was to take he could not decide on the spur of the moment, but he would unmask the impostor, hold lrim up before the community whose admiration he courted as the black hearted monster he was. And to this end he would instantly set about learning English. He would devote all his energies to it and accomplish it in the shortest possible time. "And your parents, are they dead?" "My mother is alive, but my fa- Tolstoi, on the other hand, is a man of genius, but he declines to make himself at all submissive to the constitution of the United States or the ordinances of the town. Tolstoi tells the truth, but so does the coarse member of congress, perhaps; yet the editor of The Congressional Record wisely removes some of the choicer idioms of speech with a pair of tongs before he prints it. "I'll take my chances on that." "Is dead. Yes, I supposed so. And you had to go out into the world to earn your living. I suppose you send part of your earniugs to your mother?" ther"  A week after this episode Gunnar led a tall and yet stately woman of 40 into Norman's library. The manufacturer was standing with his hands in his pockets and his back to the fire. There was a vague anxiety in his face and an occasional twitching of the muscles about the mouth, as if he were trying to master a strong emotion. He started forward with both hands outstretched when the door opened, but paused in the middle of the floor, gazing with a strange uncertainty at the two persons who entered. The handsome matron became conscious of a slight embarrassment as she noted his expressson, and the joyous eagerness which had animated her features gave way to an anxious confusion. He was so different from what she had expected. Eighteen long years lay between them with the slow transformation they had wrought. They had taken her husband from her and substituted another who was he and yet not he. Gunnar pondered for some minutes, then, with a reckless fling of his head, held out his hand and said: "Well, since there is no other way, 1 suppose I shall have to agree to your terms." "Yes, as much as I can spare." He will read selections "History of Delaware County" and also from his map. He will by request also read the following, which is one of his compositions, earlier than anything yet published, and which I saw in the original manuscript this summer. I am not thoroughly familiar with Mr. Gould's earlier writings, but it purports to be lus. I give it below. It is on the subject of Rope. HOPE. "Hoptf% a real good thing. It somelimes si iners eternal in the human uw-ii luiWIi 1! ;tu) wiiiie and then witt& crs. O w |at should one do if bereft of hope! Tiiey would be so despondent, one would, if they did not have hope, especially for the future. We can gei along without hope so far as the present is concerned, but in the future how different, and tha more we go on from one thing to another, and still are here today and there to-morrow, is it not better if we must to do those things that are inevitable with a cheery smile on each and all, economizing in every way we can, especially in our operating expenses and dividends, thus leaving more to be used judiciously by ourselves rather than frittered away on comparative strangers. "That's right. I am glad you are a good son. That is what I like to hear." Lawson, rising, stuck his knife into his pocket and grasped his visitor's hand. About a week after this conversation Mr. Norman again paused in front of Gunn&r's bench. "How much do you pay for your board?" he asked. Tolstoi tells some disagreeable truths, but he ought not to refer to them as literature. Descriptions Cbf the treatment of botts and hog cholera are not untruthful, and yet they should be so la- "Wait a minute," he said, "and 111 go with you." CHAPTER VI "Five dollars a week." "I live alone. If you will take a room in my house you may pay for it by extra work which I will give, mostly copying and mechanical drawing. YouH then be able to send five dollars more every week to your mother." The parson said he would imperil his soul's salvation. Well, his pure Lutheran could not be worth much if in order to keep it undiluted he had to seclude himself from all the rest of the world and avoid contact with those who believed otherwise than he. He had hitherto accepted the parson's reasoning, or rather he had never thought of doubting its soundness. But now a new question arose: Was it not his duty to start out into the world and find his father, or at all events ascertain whether he was alive or dead? The grocer reappeared presently in his holiday attire of black broadcloth, and with the silk hat set askew upon hia head. Having obtained the yotng man's note of hand he took his arm, ushered him on board a street car and seated himself solemnly at his side. They rode for twenty or thirty minutes up one street and down another, through a bewildering turmoil of traffic, and stopped at last before a huge, ugly brick block, across the walls of which a succession ol colossal gilt letters traced the inscription: "The Norman Reaper & Mowei Co." Through the windows could be seen big wheels revolving, and straps of leather belting flying up and down, lengthwise and crosswise, while the glow from the mouths of the furnaces showed black figures with leather aprons moving to and fro like cyclops in subterranean smithies. There was a whirling, and a rattling, and a hammering, a rasping of saws and clanking of metals fit to split one's ears. The whole enormous building seemed to be trembling with an intense white heat activity. It was really a great relief to Gunnar to escape striking the blow with his own hand. And yet he was anything but happy. A kind of perverse sense of duty which he had stimulated by meditation upon his mother's wrongs forbade him to withdraw; and yet he felt mean and dastardly as he sat opposite to his father at the dinner table listening to his kindly and instructive talk. The desire to benefit and instruct him was so obvious that every remark cut the son to the quick and made him quiver with suppressed excitement. He was on the point of breaking down and confessing his plot, but the thought of his mother's toil and suffering braced him up again and made him adhere to his resolution. When the meal was at an end he was about to hurry away from the kindness that scorched him; but Mr. Norman put his hand on his shoulder and asked him to step into the library, as he had something very particular to say to him. When they were seated in open chairs before the open fire they smoked for awhile in meditative silence. But the face of each betrayed dimly the emotions which wrestled within him. He started palpably while nursing this passionate purpose when Mr. Norman addressed him, but understood presently that he was to write his name in a book. His transparent face bespoke the turmoil that agitated his heart. He began to divine that Lawson, who was probably the only one in possession of Mr. Norman's secret, had made it as profitable to himself as possible; and that now, when the manufacturer was beginn'jig to tire of his blackmail. h» turning it to fresh account in similar transactions with the opposite side. All these reflections flashed through his brain as he received the pen from Lawson's hand. Ho stooped down over the ledger and wrote Finn Varsko. "But do you think, sir, that Til be able to do that kind of work?" "Leave that to me. I know what I am about." "But, sir, I don't think I can accept it." This good looking middle aged gentleman, with a full beard and clad in city attire, how could he ever be to her what the shabby, restless, discontented Norse peasant, Hans Matson, had been? And yet, as he pressed her hands and welcomed her, though not with the free and joyous ring she had expected, she caught a glimpse in his look and manner of the man she had loved. And the cadence ot his voice rang with clear vibrations through the depth of her soul. "Well, do as you like. You may give me your answer to-morrow." All these thoughts kept whirling confusedly in Gunnar's brain while he danced, and when finally the music ceased he conducted his fair partner out into the yard in order that the breeze might cool her off. She noticed his seriousness, and thinking he disapproved of the little fib by which she had gotten rid of Lawson •he began to ponder a little speech intended to put her misdemeanor in the most favorable light. "I hope you are not angry with me," she said, looking up into his face with a smile, intent upon mollification. When he got home that night Gunnar expected to be praised for his self denial in refusing the rich man's invitation, for he hoped Mathilda would divine that it was out of regard for her that he had foregone so great an advantage. But to his surprise the young lady called him a dunce, and told him almost in so many words that in looking out for his own interest he also served hers. Sho felt apparently so sure of him that she was more than willing to run the risk of separation. It was of herself she was in doubt; but this doubt he could easily dispel by a great stro'te of business like the one which ho h:id confided to her. By getting Mr. Norman in his power (of which ho had a far better chance when living in his house) ho could make his everlasting fortune, and she hoped sincerely he would show that he had the grit of a man, and would allow no foolish mollicoddle sentiment to interfere with his plan. When he had ascertained beyond the shadow of doubt that Mr. Norman was the same as Hans Mateon, then was his opportunity. He must then threaten disclosure and make the best terms possible for pledging himself to silence. Norman glanced curiously at the signature and closed the book. "But the boy, the boyt" were the first words he uttered. "He is not dead?" READINQ TOLSTOI AMD BURNING A RAO. Ana eo it came to pjiss tnat uunnar found himself one day on the road to the nearest railroad station, tingling in every nerve with a sense of adventure. He arrived on the following day without accident in Chicago, and was utterly bewildered by the grandeur and the noisy turmoil of the great metropolis of the west. The 6inoke oppressed his lungs, the shriek of locomotives on the lake front made him blind and deaf,"and the underground buzzing and humming of the cable cars gavo him a headache. How could he hope to track his father in such a babel of tumultuous confusion? His first task, however, must be to find himself a boarding place which might be used as a base of operation in his explorations. In the Scandinavian quarter of the city called Vicker park he stumbled upon a kindly policeman whose face revealed his Norse blood, and to him Gunnar confided his perplexities, and was directed to a cheap and respectable house kept by the widow of a Norwegian apothecary. The floor of the hall was covered with oilcloth, and an odor of cooking was perceptible as soon as the front door was opened: but Gunnar was not fastidious, and moreover the kindly grace of the landlady, Mrs. Tonneson, would have reconciled him to worse inconveniences than culinary odors. "Finn Varsko," he murmured, "that is a curious name." beled and so entitled that those who may be suffering from botts or hog cholera will be abf? to get hold of the book and no one else. "Hopft, O Hope! He who hath not a tail hold on Hope is a wreck on a single track. O bully for Hope! On the other hand, how disagreeable is despair! There is nothing more unpopular in the world today than despair. "The boy," she replied, with a slow, dubious accent. "No, he isn't dead." Gunnar and his companion paused foi a moment to contemplate the structure, and then entered an outer office on the second floor, in a part of the building which was separated from the factory by a wide hall. Lawson wrote his name on a slip of paper and begged a doorkeeper to liand it to Mr. Norman. The reply was soon returned that if he could wait for half an hour Mr. Norman would be at leisure. CHAPTER VII. "But why did you not bring him?" She started with a puzzled look, first at her son, then at her husband. "Oh, no, why should I?" he answered half absently. Two years passed rapidly and Gunnar became proficient in English. He tool? a lesson of one hour every evening from his landlady's daughter, the charming Mathilda, who, when the student with the beer base had taken French leave (neglecting to settle his board bill), pitied the solitary young man from the backwoods, and taught him a variety of things besides English grammar. She was a curious mixture, this fascinating Mathilda, and Gunnar, though not lacking in common sense, found himself unablo to judge her. Two attributes, however, he learned to distinguish in her. He took her to be adorably simple and kind hearted and full of good impulses! But he could not deny that she was an outrageous flirt. He imagined, too, that she put up with him sometimes because she pitied his loneliness, and at other times for want of anybody more desireable. When you can't get tobacco to smoke, they say in Norway, moss is a fair substitute. Anything of the masculine gender was fair game for Mathil* da, and her time hruig UeaYtty on her hands when no wa»«uHne creatures were about. Hei1 mother affirmed that a flirtatious disposition was su deeply ingrained in her nature that it was useless to blame her for it. She had, th« same authority asserted, winked at ths doctor when she was born. "Finn," began Mr. Norman, blowing a slender column of smoke toward the fireplace, "will you do me a favor?" That is what I like about the writings of Gould. He calls his book "The History of Delaware County," so that those who want a history of Delaware county may avail themselves of it. Ho does not cfdl it "The Kreutzer Sonata," and fool musical young ladies and girls in pantalettes into reading something that does not concern them. "I don't understand it at all," she ejaculated in a fervor of amazement. "Gunnar," she continued, turning to the youth. "Why do you not speak to your father?" xuen iei us iu our scuooi uxe always be hopeful, and eat only such victuals as agree with us, and which do not run too much into money. Let us eat plain victuals, be hopeful and friendly to those who are generous to us. "Because—because—I wanted to get rid of that city fellow," she faltered, begging forgiveness with her large innocent eyes.  "Oh, don't bother about that," he ejaculated ungraciously. "I can't help bothering about it, that is, unless youll be nice and speak to me as you used to." "I shall have to know first what it is." "Weil, you are right in not making rash promises. But when I tell you that my peace of m nd, my happiness depends upon yoir doing this for me I think you'll not refuse." It was now Norman's turn to be amazed. He started back with an exclamation of surprise. He rubbed hi8 eyes as if to clear his vision. Then with a dawning joy in his face he grasped the hand which the young man held out to him. "Let us cherish Hope, ;"«d"'vhenever we get the means ahead we may buy a little railroad, or at least enough of it to make it disagreeable for those who own the rest of it. Never give way to despair, especially if you are young; a despondent new born babe who looks with regret on his past life is a sad sight. I hope all such who may read this essay will take courage and do different. So no more at this time, but you will hear from me later on. Jason Gould." Mr. Gould's work shows great familiarity with quotations also, most all of Gunnar did not dare to ask the question which was trembling on his lips; Who was this Mr. Norman? Surely not his father. A rich and powerful man he must be, since such a great factory was named after him. And yet, who could tell? He feared Lawson would think him foolish if he ventured to utter what wa« in his mind. At last, when the half houi was at an end, and three men had entered and left the smaller room, partitioned off from tbe main office by a wainscoted wall of ash, the doorkeeper conducted the two expectant Norsemen into the chief a presence. Gunnar found himself face to face with a robust man of fortyfive, with a brown beard sprinkled with gray, and fine, ener&.tic features. He was carefully, almost fashionably dressed, but there was in his bearing something angular and uncompromising, a kind of homespun, bhr:t directness. His expression was, however a trifle worried and his eyes were yestio:; i. He looked like a strong man with a bad conscience. Gunnar's heart thumped in his throat. He dreaded what was to come, and yet he could not tell whether it was a wild joy or a desperate anxiety which chased the blood through his veins and made his pulse hammer in his temples. Gunnar gave a laugh, and looked down at Ingerid's dimpled face with Amused tenderness. "How did I use to speak to you?' he •eked smiling. "Oh, now you are making fun of me,'' •he replied in sweet confusion; "it isn't nice of yon to make fun of me, Gunnar."them closing firm. IIo shows a literary style somewhat resembling that of the author of "Ray's Arithmetic." It is clear, nervous, jerky, disconnected, something after the methods of Noah Webster, but more pure and chaste, I think. "Finn Varsko!" he cried; "you have robbed me of a son in return for the one you give me." Be it said to the credit of our hero thai he rebelled against this project. It waa justice he wanted, justice for his deluded, sorrowing mother, who had been cheated out of her life's happiness by this man's duplicity and cruelty. To make money out of such a transaction seemed to him sordid, bate, infamous. He came near quarreling outright with Mathilda, who with all her cleverness was not clever enough to discover that she had made a fatal mistake in affording him bo deep a glimpse into her hard and mercenary little heart. She had to resort to tears and caresses in order to obliterate the impression, whereupon she overwhelmed him with reproaches for having thought her capable of the very scheme which she had a moment ago developed. And he, poor fellow, kiised her and begged her forgiveness for having misunderstood her; and imagined that very likelv his intellect was not sufficiently subtle to comprehend the fine gradations of meaning conveyed in this exquisite creature's speech. H was so preposterously happy at the privileges she now granted him that ko could not have Zonad itia his "The fact is, Finn, "I have a wife and a son," Mr. Norman continued. "I know they are both living, and I want you to go to them. Tell them I am alive and love them as much Cus ever. Tell them I am a ricii man, ana that 1 want them to come and spend the rest of their days with me." THE END. Referring again to Mr. Gould's slight tendency to regard himself as plural even in his younger days, I will quote from "The History of Delaware County." It Tvms that t*«» anti-rent excitement, wnicn naa snc**n ltseir in Schoharie county in 1843, was successfully introduced into Delaware county in the following year, and on pages 260-5 inclusive Mr. Gould speaks of an incident which occurred. Roxbury was the first to suffer, and the disturbers were, it seems, disguised as Indians. They were what the prosperous young author called artificial Indians, for Jay is not above sly little bon mots and little squirts of refined humor as he goes along. Washington was a great man, and h« accomplished marvels for his country, but then he didn't have as much to worry him as modern statesmen have. His trousers never bagged at the knees.— Somerville Journal. No Wonder Ho Was Good. There were others evidently who were Of the same opinion, though they had no definite data to argue from. On the woodpile in the yard sat Thorsten Sletten and five or six of his chums, all incensed at the open favor Ingerid showed Gunnar Matson, and determined on the first occasion to bring down his conceit a peg or two. Gunnar was instinctively aware of their sentiments toward him as he approached the woodpile, and seized the first opportunity to turn about, when he could do so with self re: pect. But no sooner had he turned his back to the «»u; • my than a shower of chips. - of Oar to and other light missiles hit hi9) about the head and shoulders, fie »vuj inclined to take no notice of this chalk-age; but Ingerid, beiujj less wise, faced about again and Said: Mr. Gould and I will read from our own works in October for the "Benefit of the Isfiammatory Hospital Fund of Ludlow Street." We thought that would be a good way to rehearse our selections and try our voices. Mine is all right, but Mr. Gould fears that in the more pathetic parts of his reading he might have to put some more pitch on the roof of his voice. He is highly emotional in all his work, and has brought tears to thousands of eyes. Please do not buy your tickets of "Ir. Gould. I do not wish to throw a ay temptation in his way. I will furnish tickets to those who wish them. He stared fixedly into the fire while speaking, but Gunnar saw his lip tremble and a sudden moisture clouded his eyes and made him rise abruptly and pace e floor. The Pans* of Hanger. Mrs. Jones—Just think of it! There is a policeman visiting dut ugly old cook. At the dinner table he was introduced to about twenty people, mostly clerks in itores and recent arrivals from Norway, all of whom scanned his rustic attire with supercilious mien. There was particularly a young lady, the daughter of Mrs. Tonneson, who made him uncomfortable by the critical and half amused expression with which she regarded him. His ears burned and his face glowed with the consciousness that she found him queer; but he was not angry with her— only desperately determined to learn the ways of the world, and if possible to make her his teacher, Bbe appeared dftuliiuc- "How long is it since you left your wife and son?" asked Gunnar with a mighty effort not to betray his emotion. Mr. Jones—Great Scott! How hungry that poor man must be.—Texas Sittings."Eighteen years, my boy," answered Norman huskily. "Eighteen years." One would have supposed that Gunnar, armed with this knowledge, would have been proof against her blandishments. But no knowledge is a protection against that kind of assaults. There was to him a delicious thrill of danger in the situation which to her was entirely absent. She had seen more of the world than he, and sometimes, in order to tease Mm, gave hi® gtaftdajotherly advio^ It Seldom Fails. "Don't you smell fire?" "No; I don't think I do." "I don't Hther; but most people do if you ask them."—Puck. He continued to walk up and down on the floor, with his head bent. It would seem that during the summer of this ar these Indian outlaws showed the first "act of hostility on the 6th of July upon the premises of John B. Gould, who, regardless of the threat and the timely warning of the association to desist from blowing his horn, had continued to use it as a signal to call his workmen to dinner. Upon the day in "I thought I'd drop in and see you," began Lawson uneasily. ''How much?" asked Norman quickly; "tell me how much you demand. You know I have no time for fooling. And please give me a respite now. I think I've earned it." "You think 1 am much to blame; and you are right. I wish I could explain it to you; but I can't. I was miserable— in the Norse settlement, utterly, inconceivably miserable; because there was something in me which no one understood, and myself least of all. I told in ms innocence the panoa ol 'JL Wooden—Did you see the president when he was here? Sharpe—No, but then he didn't see me either.—Boston Time* The Lost Equally Divided. ■r Always the aiesi, optcitet, clewest at d beau 1'Lt) E _.\lno Uahawb, by carrier orty cents pet month. "I wish you wouldn't do that, lads." A derisive jeer greeted this mild "How you do go on?" grumbled th§ "ff.  •K,' i