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( Oldest newspaper in the Wyoming Valley. PITTSTON, LUZERNE CO., PA., FRIDAY. MAY 17, 189',. A Weekly Local and Family Journal. "An, yes,' toe American answered, a little lower than before, with a meaning glance, "kind to you, Miss llesslegrave. That doesn't prove much. Even a confirmed misogynist could hardly be less. We must allow for circumstances." see it ne wan listening. "She is ho charming, isn't she, Ijirty Axminster?" was cherchez la femme of course, asusnal. Bertie had been engaged to a girl of whom he was passionately fond, but she threw him overboard. I must say myself, though I never cared for the boy, she threw him overboard most cruelly and unjustifiably. In point of fact, between ourselves, she had a better offer—an offer from a marquis—a wealthy marquis. Axminster was poor, for a man in his position, you understand. These things are relative. And the girl threw him overboard. I won't mention her name, because this is all a family matter, but she is a marchioness now and universally admired, though I must admit she behaved badly to Bertie." "Shook his faith in women, I expect?" the American suggested. to race witn tne realities or existence, i never should have found out, now, how poor a creature I really was—or how strong a one either—if I hadn't put my worth quite fairly to the test in this-practical manner. It makes a man renlize his market value. As it is, I know I'm a tolerable A. B. and a very mediocre hand at a paying seascape." ft penny—lived ami thrived on it and used up his Ravings and appeared at last in Loudon that spring with the picture he had painted, anxious to pit himself in this as in other things on equal terms against his fellow craftsmen. As he walked down Piccadilly, gazing somewhat aimlessly into the windows of the picture shops and wondering whether anyliody would ever buy his "Chioggia Fisher boats," he suddenly felt a hand clap(Ded on his shoulder and turned round half terrified to observe who stopped him. Hnd some member of his own club, in front of which he was just passing, seen through the double disguise of burnt skin and altered features? But no. He recognized at a glance it was only Rufus Mortimer, tired of the inanities of afternoon tea at Mrs. Hesslegrave's rooms and escaping from the canon on the tithes commutation bill Venice next winter anil painting it over with another picture." PASTOR IMPLEMENTS INSTALLED. "Quite so," tho canon answered. "A very dear old cousin of mine, nsyoa know. Lady Harimrd, and so much cut up about this dreadful business of her scapegrace grandson. Well, we've got a clew of him at last. We really believe we've got a genuine clew to him." Kufus Mortimer paused a moment. This was a delicate matter. Then ho said in a rather constrained, half hesitating way, "Suppose you were to leave it with me and see whether I could manage or not to dispose of if?" Interesting Services at the First Presby- terian Church Last Evening. Beautiful tropical and flowering plant* graoed the pulpit of of the First Presbyterian Church on May 9, when the aervloea Incident to the installation of the Ber. A. Boss MoGlements, as paator of thi church, took plaoe. There waa a large and Interested congregation present, lno odlng representatives from nearly all of the oharohes In Phtaton and West Plttaton and the various Presbyterian chnrchcs ia surrounding places that bare gone oat at the Plttaton chnrch. Kathleen colored a little, but didn't altogether dislike the compliment, for Mortimer was rich—very rich indeed—and the acknowledged catch of the artistic American colony in Paris. But Bhe turned the subject hastily. "Where did you iljcet himf" she asked, looking down at her pretty shoes. "He's bo rough looking outside. Yet he seems a gentleman." Fj "No, yon don't mean to say bo!" Mrs. Ilesslegrave cried, deeply interested. You would have believed Lady Axminster was her dearest friend, Instead of being merely a distant howingacquaintance. "I thought he had gone off to South Africa or somewhere."It was not without difficulty indeed that Arnold Willoughby—to call him by tho only name that now generally belonged to him—had managed thus to escape his own personality. Many young men Of 27, It Is true, might readily shuffle off their friends and acquaintances and might disappear In the common ruck, no man suspecting them, though even for a commoner that's a far more difficult task than you might imagine when you come to try it. But for a peer of the realm to vanish Into space like a burnt out fire balloon is a far more serious and arduous undertaking. He knows so many men, and so many men know him. So when Albert Ogilvie Red burn, earl of Axminster, made up his mind to fade away into thin air, giving place at last to Arnold Willoughby, he was forced to do It with no small deliberation. A round red spot burned brightly in Arnold Willoughby's cheek. He flushed like a girl with sudden emotion. All the rent roll of the Axniinster estates was waiting for him in Lincoln's Inn, if he had cared to take it, but by his own deliberate design he had cut himself ofif from it, and sink or swim he would not now, after putting his hand to the plow, turn back again. He would starve sooner. But the generous offer thus delicately cloaked half unmanned his resolution. "My dear fellow," he exclaimed, turning round to the American, "how much too good you arel Not for worlds would I leave It with you. I know what you mean, and I am 110 lsss grateful to you than if I accepted your offer. It isn't often one meets with such genuine kindness. But for character's sake I prefer to worry through my own way unaided. That's a principle in life with me. But thank you all the same, thank you, thank you, thank you!" A X 1 # made no reply. lie only Imhv the piclui.? gravely to the door of the iicnileuiy and there tried to call the attention of hoih« Cing haiiHom. But it was clearly use They were all engaged already, aud the crush at the door was Htill so great there could be no chance of hiring one for another 10 minutes. So the young man laid down the big picture near the door, with its faoe propped up against the entrance wall, and.aaying quietly, "I'll help yiu In with It by and by when I see any chance," went back to the inner room to recover his own Venetian canvas. D He was gone a minute, mnd when he returned Kathleen could see he almost cm- "Oh, he is a gentleman undoubtedly," Mortimer answered, with true American candor, "a born gentleman, though not quite the conventional one. He's as poor as a church mouse, and he's been a sailor, I fancy." "What? A romance of the peerage?" the young American asked, pricking up his ears. "A missing lord? A coronet going begging? Lost, stolen or strayed, the heir to an earldom I Is that about the siee of it?" "Entirely," the canon answered. "That's just what he wrote in his last letter. It gave him a distaste for society, he said, lie preferred to live henceforth in a wider world, where a man's personal qualities counted for more than JiJs wealth, his family or his artificial position. I suppose he meant America." CHAPTER I. AH ACCIDENTAL MKKTIKO. The programme announced In advance was carried oat to the number. The Invocation waa pronounced by Ber. W. Scott States, of Wyoming, who also acted aa chairman of the meeting. Ber. A. J. Wlaley, of Avoca, read the Scriptural lesson from the 191st Psalm and Revelations 21. The oholr sang an anthem In good [style, and Ber. T. W. Swan led In prayer. "Who is he?" Kathleen asked, with evident interest. "Precisely," the canon answered, turning toward him, half uncertain whether it was right to encourage so flippant a treatment of so serious a subject. "You've heard of it no doubt—this unfortunate young man's very awkward disappearance. It's not on his own account, of course, that the family mind. He might have gone off if he chose and nobody would have noticed it. He was always a strange, eccentric sort of person, and for my part, I say often to dear Lady Axminster, the sooner.could get rid of him the better. Bnf it's for Algy she minds. Poor Algy Redburn, who meanwhile is being kept out of the family property." "For what port aro you bound?" the young American asked, running hla arm 'Twm a dejected, dispirited, sheepish looking throng that gathered one black Wednesday round the big back door in Burlington gardens, for it waa taking away day at the Royal academy. For weeks before that annual holocaust many anxious heart* have waited and watched in eager suspense for the final verdict of the hanging committee. To hang or not to hang—that is the question. Bat on taking away day the terrible flat at last arrive*, the committee regret—on a lithographed form—that want of apace compels them to decline Mr. 8»-a»Cl-eo'* oil painting, "The Fall of Bateton."jr. Miss Whatahername'a water eon*, "By "Ah, who is he? That's the question," Mortimer answered mysteriously. "He's a dark horse, I imagine. I picked him up accidently last autumn in Venice. He used to lodge at a tiny Italian trattoria down a side canal, not far from my palazzo, and live off fritura—yon know the sort of stuff —#sh, flesh and fowl, three meals a penny.""How brave of him!" Kathleen said simply. "He looks very nice. And all for art's sake, I suppose, Mr. Mortimer?" The American laughed. "All for poverty Vwike, I he answered, with candor. "So he told me himself. He didn't core eo much about art, he said, as about earning a livelihood, and I really believe he starves in his den when he sells no pictures." "If he did," Mortimer put in, with a moaning smile, "I should reckon he knew vory little nbout our country." "And you nay you've got a clewf" Mrs. Hesalegrave Interposed. "What is it, canrDnf"It would not be enough for him to change no more than his name and costume. In London, New York, Calcutta, Rio, Yokohama, there were people who might any day turn up and recognize him. His disguise, to succeed, must be better than superficial. But he was equal to the oocasion. He had no need for hurry. It was not as though the police were on bis track in hot haste. Time after time his disguise might be detected, but he could learn by his errors how to make it safer for the future. His one desire was get rid forever of that ihcubus of a historical name and a great position in the county which made it impossible for him to know life aB it was, without the cloaks and pretences of flunky* and sycophants. He wished to find out his own market value. The canon wagged his head. "Ah, that's It," he echoed. "That's just it. What is i« Well, Mnria has found out—clever woman, Maria—that he sailed from London three years ago under the assumed name of Douglas Overton In a ship whose rxact title I don't remember—the Saucy Fometh ing-or-other — for Melbourne or Sydney. And now we're in hopes we may rtwlly track him." He stood for a moment irresolute. Tears trembled in his eyes. He could put up with anything on earth but kindness. Then he wrung his friend's hand hard, and with a sudden impulse darted down a side street in the direction of St. James. The American gazed after him with no Uttls interest. "That's a brave fellow," he said to himself as Arnold disappeared round a oorner in the distance. "But he won't go down just yet. He has far too much pluck to let himself sink easily. I expect I shall find him next autumn at Venice." The sermon of the evening was by Bev. Samuel Banftt Nelson, of Philadelphia. His text was Psalms 181, 1st veiae: "I wfll lift up mine eyas unto the hills, from Mi his own pictuw down «fc m from ben, as though he was whence oometh my help." He dwelt on the suggestiveness of the mountains and Mils «s showing the strength and power of God, and he very vividly described how the mountains of Bible history were the scenes of the promulgation of the teaching* of the ohrletian religion, beginning with Mount Sinai, where the law wm made known In the form of the ten Commandment!; then Mount Mori ah, where the leason of faith was taught, aa being the fulfillment of the Law; Mount Gerisim and Mount Ebsl, from which the people were taught that obedience waa better than sacrifice; the Mount of Olivea where tha Law waa Interpreted by Jtsns, and where love waa taught aa the fulfillment of the Law; the Mount of Calvary, where the Law waa magnified by the death of Jeeue Christ sa an ezp'atlon thereof, and, finally, Mount Zlon, where our salvation will bo consummated, and where It will be ma- anxious to continue the conversation. "Well, but this is very know," Rufus Mortimer interjected as the canon paused. "I haven't heard about this. Tell me how it all happened and why you want a clew. A missing link or a missing earl is always so romantic." Leafy Thames," and politely Inform them that they may remove them at their leisure and at their own expense from Burlington House by the back door aforesaid. Then follows a sad ceremony. The rejected flock together to recover their alighted goods and keep one another company in their hour of humiliation. It to a community of grief, a fellowship in misery. Each is only sustained from withering under the observant eyes of his neighbor by the inward consciousness that that neighbor himself, after all, is in the selfeame box anil has been the recipient that day of an iiientloal letter. Nevertheless, it was some consolation to Kathleen Hesslsgrave in her disappointment to observe the varying moods and shifting huruors of her fellow sufferers among the rejected. She had a keen sense of the ridiculous, and it lightened tar trouble somewhat to watch among the crowd the different fuuny ways in which other people bore or concealed their own disappointment for her edification. There were sundry young men, for example, with long hair down their backs and loose collars of truly Byronic expansiveneas, whom Kathleen at once recognised as unacclaimed geniuses belonging to the very newest and extremest school of modern impressionism. They hailed from Newlyn. These lordly souls, budding Raphaels of the future, strolled into the big room with a careless air of absolute unconcern, as who should wonder they had ever deigned to submit their immortal works to thu arbitrament She was sorry for that. He had seemed so eager to help her with such genuine kindliness, and she was afraid he saw his last remark about not being in society had erected an instinctive class bawier between them. 80 after a moment's hesitation Rhe left her own work to take care of itself and took a step or two forward toward her new acquiantance's ambitious canvas. "You saw mine," she said apologetically, by way of reopening conversation. "May I see yours t One likes to sit in judgment on the hanging committee." "Why did he rnn away from nsf" Kathleen asked, peering around into the crowd to see if she could discover him. "But if you don't «are about him and the family's well quit of him," the American interjected, "why on earth do you want to?" "Well, to tell yon the truth," Mortimer replied, "I think it was mainly because he Raw me come up, und also because of the faint intonation in your voice when you said, 4We don't know one another.' Willoughby's a misogynist, as I told yon, and he's also sensitive—absurdly sensitive —he might almost be one of my fellow countrymen. I don't doubt when you said that he took it as his dismissal, lie understood you to mean: 'Now I've done, sir, with yon. Here's somebody else I know. Yon may go about your business.' And being a person who always feels acutely when he's de trop he went about his business at once accordingly." The canon leaned back luxuriously in his easy chair and sipped at the cup of tea Kathleen Hesslegrave had brought him. "Thank you, my dear," he said, rolling it critically on his palate. "One more lump, if you please. I always had a sw'eet tooth, though Sir Everard has just cut off my sugar. Says I must take saccharin, but there isn't any flavor in it. I'm thankful to say, however, he hasn't cut me off my port, which is always something. Said he to me: 'I'll tell you what it is, canon, if yon drink port, you'll have the gout, but if you don't drink port the gout'll have you.' So that's highly satisfactory." And the baldheaded old gentleman took another Hip at the sweet sirup in his cup, of which the tea itself only formed the medium.Canon Valentine turned to him with an almost shocked expression of countenance. "Oh, we don't want to find him," he said in a deprecatory voice. "We don't want to find him. Very much the contrary. What we want to do is really to prove him dead, and as the Saucy Something-orother, from London to Melbourne, went ashore on her way out in the Indian ocean somewhere, we're very much in hopes— that is to say, we fear, or rather we think it possible—that every soul on board her perished." KILLED BY LIGHTNING. spontaneously through the casual acquaintance's, and Arnold liked him for the action, it was so frank and friendly. "No port in particular," Willoughby answered, with his cheery smile. "I'm driven out of my course—stormbound, In point of fact, and scudding under bare poles in search of a harbor." Abram VanScoy, a Well Known Resident His first attempt, therefore, was to ship on board an outward bound vessel as a common sailor. From childhood upward he had been accustomed to yachts and htd always been fond of managing the rigging. So he found little difficulty in getting a place on board during a sailors' strike and making a voyage as far as Cape Town. At the cape he had transferred himself by arrangement on purpose to a homeward bound ship, partly in order to make it more difficult for his cousins to trace him, but partly, too, in order to return a little sooner to England. He thus aocidently escaped the fate to which Canon Valentine so devoutly desired to consign him in the Indian ocean. Arriving home in his oommon sailor clothes, at Liverpool he determined to carry out a notable experiment. He had read in a newspaper which he found on board a most curious accov.nt of one Silas Quackenboss, an Ame. can face doctor, who undertook to make the plainest faces beautiful, not by mere skin deep devices, but by surgical treatment of the muscles and cartilages of the human countenance. The runaway earl made np his mind to put himself through a regular course of physical treatment at the hands of this distinguished American professor of the art of disguises. The result exceeded his utmost expectations. His very features came out of the process so altered that, as the professor proudly affirmed, "India rubber wasn't in it," and "His own mother wouldn't have known him." It was no mere passing change that had thus been effected. He was externally a new person. The man's whole expression and air were something quite different. The missing earl had arrived at Liverpool as Douglas Overton. He left It three weeks later as Arnold Willoughby, with an almost perfect confidence that not a soul on earth would ever again be able to recognize him. of Itallax, the Victim. The heavy thunderstorm which panaofl over this locality on Saturday evening waa attended by a fatality near Dallaa from a lightning stroke, says the Wllkeebarre Record. Abram VanSooy, son of Samuel VanSooy, was instantly killed abont five p m., in the open fields. He and several others were working on the John A. Hildabrant farm, a mile north of Dallsa, when the storm came upon them before they conld shelter. While hurrying across the field Van8ooy'a oompanlone, who were separated from him by anly a few rods, were blinded by a flash and on regaining their sight were horrified to find that he had been killed. Portions of his olothlng were torn from his body and were in a blaze, while one of his quivering arms was fairly roasted. The victim of this sad fatality was abo§t 40 yeara of are and was unmarried. He is highly spoken of at Dallaa. He has a brother living at Wyoming and another Pittaton. The young man seemed pleased. He had a speaking face and was handsome withal, with a seafaring handsomeness. "Oh, yes. If you like," he answered, "though I'm afraid you won't care for it." And he turned the painted face of the picture toward her. The American seized at once upon the meaning that underlay this quaint nautical phraseology. "I suspected as much," he replied, with genuine good nature, looking hard at his man. "It was a disappointment to you, I'm afraid, not getting your picture taken." "But why on earth didn't they take it?" Kathleen cried spontaneously almost as soon aa she aaw it. "What lovely Mght on the aurface of the water) And, oh, the beautiful red sails of those Chioggia fishing boats!" i "Excellent material for a second Tlchbornecase," Mrs. Hesslegrave suggested. "I'm sorry," Kathleen put In, "fori really rather liked him." The canon pursed his lips. "We'll hope not," he answered, "for poor Algy's sake; we'll hope not, Mrs. Hesslegrave. Algy's his cousin. Mad A xmiuster had one brother, tne Jlonoraoie Algernon, wno was aigy's father. You see, the trouble of it Is by going away like this and leaving no address Bertie made it impossible for us to settle his affairs and behave rightly to the family. He's keeping poor Algy out of his own, don't yon see? That's just where the trouble is." "Oh, he's a thorough good sort," the American answered quickly. "He's sterling, Willoughby is. Not at all the sort of man that's given away with a pound of tea. None of your cotton backed gentlemen. You may test him all through, and you'll find from head to foot he's the genuine material." The sailor half colored. He was prepared for almost anything on earth except sympathy. "Oh, not much," he answered, with his breezy carelessness—the brisk nonchalance of the born aristocrat was one of the few traits of his rank and class he had never even attempted to get rid of, consciously or unconsiously. "I should have liked to have it taken, of course, but it it isn't worth taking, why, it'll do me good to be taught my proper place in the scale of humanity and the scale of painters. One feels at least one has been judged with the ruck, and that's always a comfort. One's been beaten oatright on a fair field and no favor." •♦But how about Lord Axminster?" the American persisted, with the insistence of bis countrymen. terlallzed. The sermon waa a very fine discourse, full of rich thoughts, eloquence, "I'm glad yon like It," the stranger replied,with evident pleasure, blushing like • girl. "I don't care for criticism as a rule, but I love sincerity, and the way yon ■poke showed me at once you were really sincere a"bout it. That's a very rare quality—about the hardest thing to get In this world, I fancy." "Oh, ah, poor Axminster," the canon went on reflectively, stirring the liquid in his cup with his gilt bowled apostle spoon —Mrs. Hesslegrave was by no means rich, and she lived in lodgings, to her shame, during her annual visit to London, but she flattered herself she knew the proper way to provide afternoon tea for the best society. "I was coming to that. It's a Bad, bad story. To tiegin with, you know, every romance of the peerage involves a pedigree. Well, old Lady Axminster —that's my cousin, the dowager—had two sons. The eldest was the late earl— mad Axminster, they called him—who married a gypsy gi rl and was the father of the present man, if he is the present man—that is to say, if he's still living." and power. Mlaa Jeseie Perrin aang moat effectively ■ beautiful solo entitled, "Jesus, Lover of My Soul." "Couldn't you bring him with you to tea this afternoon?" Kathleen suggested, half hesitating. "I think mamma sent you an at home card for Wednesdays." The constitutional questlona to the new pastor were propounded by the Bev. Scott Stltea. "Yes, I was quite sincere," Kathleen answered with truth. "It's a beautiful picture. The thing I can't understand is why on earth they Mould have rejected it." "If he's dead," Rufus Mortimer suggested, with American common sense, "but not if he's living." "Oh, I'm ooming," the American answered, with prompt acquiescence. "I've not forgotten it, Miss Iiesslegrave. Is it likely I should? Well,.no, I don't think so. But as for Willoughby—ah, there, yon know, that's quite a different matter. I don't suppose anything on earth would induce him to go to an at home of anybody's. He'd say it was hollow, and he despises hollowness. He'll never go in for anything but realiites. To tell you the truth, I think the only reason he spoke to you at all at the academy here this morning was because he saw a chance of being of some practical service to you, and the moment the practical service was performed he took the very first opportunity that offered to slip off and leave you. That's Willoughby all over. He cares for nothing at all in life, except its realities." of a mere everyday hanging committee, and they affected to feel very little surprise indeed at finding that a vulgar bourgeois world had disdained their efforts. They disdained the vulgar bourgeois world in return with contempt st compound interest visibly written on their esthetic features. Others, older and shabbier, slunk In unobserved and shouldersd their canvases, mostly unobtrusive landscapes, with every appearance of antique familiarity. It was not the first time they had received that insult. Yet others, again—and these were chiefly young girls—advanced, blushing and giggling a little from suppressed nervousness, to recover with shame thslr unvalued property. Here and there, too, a big burly shouldered man elbowed his way through the crowd as though the plaoe belonged to him and hauled off his magnum opus—generally a huge field of historical canvas, "King Edward at Calais" or "The Death of Attlla"—with a defiant face which seemed to bode no good to the first academician he might chance to run against on his way down Bond street. A few, on the contrary, were anxious to explain, with unnecessary loudness of voice, that they hadn't sent in themselves at all this year—they had called for a picture by a friend, that was all, really. Kathleen stood aside and watched their varied moods with quiet amusement. It distracted her attention for the time from her own poor picture. "But we'll hojDe," the canon began, then he checked himself suddenly—"we'll hope," he went on with a dexterous afterthought, "this clew Maria has got will set tle the question at last, one way or the other." The charge to the pastor followed. This waa by Bev. Jamee McLeod, D. D., of 8cranton, who dwelt upon the dntiea of the pastor. His addreaa waa moat Interesting and contained many valuable suggestions.The young man shrugged his shoulders and made an impatient gesture. "They have so many pictures to judge In so short a time," he answered, with a tolerance which was evidently habitual to him. "It doesn't do to expect too much from human nature. All men are fallible, with perhaps the trifling exception of the pope. We make mistakes ourselves sometimes, and In landscape especially they have such miles to choose from. Not," he went on after a short pause, "that I mean to say I consider my own fishing boats good enough to demand success, or even to deserve it. I'm the merest beginner. I was thinking only of the general principle." "It's a queer sort of consolation," the American answered, smiling. "For my own part, I'm in the same box, and I confess I don't like it, though with me, of course, it doesn't matter financially. It's only my amour propre, not my purse, that's hurt by it." DEATH OF ECKLEY B. COXE. "Oh, here's Mrs. Burleigh!" the hostess exclaimed, rising once more from her seat with the manner suitable for receiving a distinguished visitor. "So glad to see you at last. When did yon come np from that lovely Norchester? And how's the dear bishop?" The Millionaire Coal Operator Has Passed Away. Bev. Dr. Parke delivered the charge to the people. He aatd, In substanoe: "It is not enough that the Goepel la preached and that you hear. 'Take heed how ye hear.' You are to hear the Word, not m the word of man, but as the Word of God. Ton are to hear thla Word with the prayer, 'Open Thou my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of Thy law.' The preached Word la to be heard with a purpose on the part of thoee who hear to retain It, otherwise the evil one will carry it away. It la to be heard with a purpose to do it But more particularly, in referenoe to this brother. See to It, that you meet, promptly and fully, your engagements to him in the call you have given hi™ Do not hesitate to let your pastor know that you appreciate his work. Do not let the effusion of affection be so 'gushing* during the honeymoon that there be nothing further on. Help him in every way you can, by your preeenoe in the sanctuary, by taking heed to what he has to say to yon, by apeaklng well of him, by defending him agalnat false accusations, by oo-operating with him in carrying out his plans for work. Do not expeot too muoh of him in the pulpit or out of it. He Is only a man. He oannot preach a great serCnon every time he preaches. Be member he la Christ's minister to you, he is your pastor. It Is not for you to ssy what he shall preach or shall not preach, so long aa he delivers faithfully Christ's message. Remember that aa he must give an aooount to God for the manner in which he preachea the Word, you must give an aooount to God for the manner in which yon hear it" "The missing lord, in fact ?" Rufus Mortimer put in interrogatively. Bazleton, Pa., May 18. Arnold ilkea this rranK recognition or the gulf between their positions. "Well, that does make a difference," he said. "There's no denying it. I counted upon selling this picture to go on painting next winter. As it is, I'm afraid I shall have to turn to some other occupation. I can't earn enough at sea in one summer to keep me alive and find me In painting materials during the winter after it." Rufus Mortimer gave a sudden little start of surprise. "Why, I never thought of that," he cried. "One-half the world doesn't know how the other half lives, in spite of the constant efforts of the society journalists to enlighten it on the subject. I suppose to you, now, canvas and paint and so forth cost something considerable. And yet one never before so much as thought of them as an element in one's budget." Hon. Eckley B. Coze, the mlllional e ooal operator, at the head of the firm of Brothers, died this morning at the family home In Drifton. Mr. Coze had been 111 for several days with pneumonia, but even so late aa Saturday evening his physician gave encouraging reports of his condition, so that the announcement of his death was somewhat a surprise. "Quite so," the canon assented, "the missing lord, who is therefore, you will see, my cousin Maria's grandchild. But Maria never eared for the lad. From his childhood upward that boy Bertie had ideas and habits sadly unbefitting that station in life, etc. He had always a mania for doing some definite work in the world, as he called it—soiling his hands in the vineries, or helping the stable boys, or mending broken chairs, or pottering about the grounds with an ax or a shovel. He had the soul of an undergardener. His father was just as bad—picked up wonderful notions about equality and Christian brotherhood and self help, and so forth. But it came out worse in Bertie—• his name was Albert. I suppose the gypsy mother had something or other to do with It. I'm a great believer in heredity, you know, Lady Barnard—heredity's everything. If once you let any inferior blood Mko that into a good old family, there's no knowing what trouble you may be laying in store for yourself." "I knew Axminster at Oxford," a very quiet young man in the corner, who had been silent till then, oltserved in a low voice to Rufus Mortimer. "I mean the present man—the missing earl—the gypsy's son, as ('anon Valentine calls him. I aan't say I ever thought him the least bit mad, except in the way of being very conscientious, if that's to be taken as a sign of madness. He hated wine parties, which was not unnatural, considering his grandfather had drunk himself to death, and one of his uncles had to be confined as an habitnal inebriate, and he liked manual labor, which was not unnatural either, f'ir he was a splendidly athletic fellow, as fine built a man as ever I saw and able to do a good day's work with any navvy in Britain. Bnt he was perfectly sane and a martyr to conscience. He felt this girl's treatment of him very much, I believe—yon know who it was, I.ady Sark, the celebrated beauty— and he also felt that people treated him very differently when they knew he was Ixird Axminster from the way they treatM him when he went about the coast as a common sailor In a little tub fishing yacht, which he was fond of doing. And that made him long to live a life as a man, not as an earl, in order that he might see what there really was in him." "I'm afraid you're a dreadful cynic," Kathleen put In, with a little wave of her pretty gloved hand, just to keep up the oonvematlon. She was still engaged in looking close Into the details of his rejected handicraft. Though deficient in technique, it had marked imagination. Of conrse he had not confided the secret of his personality to the jlhierican quack, who probably believed he was assisting some criminal to escape from justice, and who pocketed his fee in that simple belief without a qualm of conscience. So, when he sailed from Liverpool again In his new character as Arnold Willoughby, it was in the confident hope that he had shuffled off forever his earldom, with its accompanying limitations of vtfew, and stood forth before the world a new and free man, face to face at last with the realities and difficulties of normal self supporting human existence. "Now I live like a man," Nero said to himself when he had covered half the site of burned Rome with his golden house. "Now I live like a man," the self deposed earl exclaimed in the exactly opposite spirit as he munched the dry biscuit and coarse salt pork of the common sailor on the Dudley Castle. CHAPTER H. MTffi. HESSLEQRAVX AT HOWE. That same afternoon Mrs. Heeslegrave'a little rooms in n side street in Kensington were Inconveniently crowded. Mrs. Heatiegrave would hare been wounded to the sore had it been otherwise, for though she was poor she was still "in society;" Every second Wednesday through the season Mrs. Hesslegrave received. Sooner would she have gone without breakfast and dinner than have failed to All her rooms for afternoon tea with "the best people." Indeed Mrs. Hesslegrave was the exact antipodes of Arnold Willoughby. 'Twas for the appearances of life she lived, not for Its realities. "It would look so well," "It would look so bad," those were the two phrases that rose oftenest to her lips, the two phraaea that summed up in antithetical simplicity her philosophy of conduct. Mr. Coze was one of the most prominent residents of Eastern Pennsylvania. From 1881 Co 1885 he served the Twenty first Senatorial District in the State Senate. The stranger smiled a broader and more genial smile than ever. "Oh, no, not a cynic, I hope," he answered, with emphasis, in a way that left no doubt about his own ainoerlty. "It isn't cynical, surely, to reoogniae the plain facta of human nature. We're all of as prone to judge a good deal by the moat superficial circumstances. Suppose, now, yon and I were on the hanging committee ourselves. Just at first, of oourse, we'd be frightfully anxious to give every work the fullest and fairest consideration. Responsibility would burden us. We would weigh each picture well and reject it only after due deliberation. But human nature can't keep up such a strain as that for long together. We'd be- Sa very fresh, but toward the end of the y we'd be -dazed and tired. We'd say: 'Whose is thatf Ah, by So-and-so's ton, a brother R. A. I know bis father. Well, It's not badly painted. We'll let it in, I think. What do you say, Jiggamareef And then with the next:4 Who's this by, porterf Oh, a fellow called Smith. Not very distinctive, is it? H'ra! We've rejected every bit as good already. Sjmce is getting full. Well, put it away for the present, Jones. We'll mark it doubtful.' Chat's human nature, after all, and what we each of ua feel we would do ourselves we can none of us fairly blame in others." "They're a very serious item," Arnold answered, with that curious suppressed smile that was almost habitual to him. He was 56 years of age, and is survived by a wife, but o child en. "Then what do you mean to do?" the American asked, turning round upon him. "I hardly know yetmyself," Arnold answered, still carelessly. "Itdoesn't much matter. Nothing matters, In point of fact, and if it does never mind—I mean to say, personally. One lone ant in the hive is hardly worth making a fuss about." BODY FOUND IN THE RIVER. At last she found herself almost the only person remaining out of that jostling crowd, with a sailor looking man, brown and bronzed, beside her. " But Gallon says," the young American was bold enough to interpose, "that all the vigor and energy of the British aristocracy—when they happen to have any— cornea really from their mesalliances, from the handsome, strong and often clever young women of the lower orders—actresses and bo forth—whom they occasionally marry." Probably That of a I'olaixler, But Not Imlentifled aw Yet. On Monday at 9:30, the dead body of a man waa found in the river at the end of the sewer just below the Ferry bridge, on the eaat aide. The body waa pnlled to shore, and waa viewed by Lundrtds of people. It waa son:ewhat deoompoeed, and to all appearanoee had been in the water for some time. The man waa short and chnnky. He wore a striped pantaloons, bine overalls, black ooat and had a handkerchief tied abont the neek. "'In a Side Canal,' Kathleen Hesslegrave. Yes, this is yours, mum," the porter said gruffly. ' But you'll want a man to take it down to the cab for you." Three years at sea, however, began to tell In time even upon Arnold Willoughby's splendid physique. He had to acknowledge at last that early training to hardships, too, counts for something. Ills lungs, it turned out, were beginning to be affected. He consulted a doctor, and the 4TDctor advised him to quit the sea and take up, If possible, with some more sedentary indoor occupation. Above all, he warned him against spending the winters in northern seas and recommedned him, if a landlubber's life was out of the question, to ship as much as practicable in the colder months for tropical voyages. Arnold smiled to himself at the very different spirit in which the medical man approached the sailor's case from the way in which he would have approached the case of Lord Axminster, but he was accustomed by this time to perfect self repression on all these matters. He merely answered, touching an imaginary hat by pure force of acquired habit as he spoke, that he thought he knew a way in which he could earn a decent livelihood on shore if he chose, and that he would avoid in future winter voyages in high latitudes. But as the bronzed and weather beaten sailor laid down his guinea manfully and walked out of the room the doctor said to himself, with a little start of surprise, "That man speaks and behaves with the manners of a gentleman." "Where are you going to dine?" the American put in, with a sudden impulse. Thus unexpectedly driven to close quarters, Arnold replied with equal truth and candors "I'm not going to dine anywhere. To say the plain fact, I didn't think of dining."Therefore it wa. a small matter to Mrs. Hesslegrave that her friends were jostling and hustling each other to their mutual Inconvenience in her tiny lodgings. Their discomfort counted to her for less than nothing. It looks so well to have your '' at homes" attended. It looks so bad to see them empty, or, worse still, filled by the wrong sort of people. Kathleen glanced at her little arms. They were not very strong, to be sure, though plnmp and shapely. Then she looked at the porter. Bat the porter stood unmoved. With a struggling little effort Kathleen tried to lift it. "In a Side Canal" was a tolerably big picture, and she failed to manage it. The sailor looking body by her side raised his hat, with a smile. H1h face was brown and weathet beaten, but he had beautiful teeth, verj white and regular, and when be smiled h showed them. He looked likea gentleman too, though he was so roughly dnased with a sailor's roughness. "May I bel] your" he asked - he raised his hat. "WC The canon stared hard at him. These might DDe scientific truths indeed, not unworthy of discussion at the British association, but they ought not to be unexpectedly flung down like bombshells in an Innocent drawing room of aristocratic Kensington. "That may be so," he answered chillily. "I have not read Mr. Gal ton's argument on the subject with the care and attention which no doubt it merits. But gypsies are gypsies, and monomania is monomania, with all due respect to scientific authority. So at an early age, as I was alxDut to observe, these bad ancestral traits began to come out in Bertie. lie insisted upon it that he ought to do some good work in the world, which was very right and proper of course. I hope we all of us share his opinion on that score," the canon continued, checking himself and dropping for a mpment into his professional manner. "But, then, his unfortunate limitation of view to what I will venture to call the gypsy horizon made him fail to see that the proper work in the world of an English nobleman is—is" "A very one taste, -tne young rniin delphian replied. "Now, I for my part like best to live among people who know all about me and my grandfather, the vice president, who made the family pile, because when I go outside my own proper circle I see people only value me at my worth as a man, which I suppose must be just about 12 shillings a week and no allowance for beer money." "Why not?" Mortimer persisted. "Because," the other answered, with a very amused look, "I don't happen to possess the wherewithal to dine upon." "Oh, here's that dear Mr. Mortimer," Mrs. Hesslegravegnshed forth, rising with empressement as the young American entered. "How do you do, Mr. Mortimer? How good of you to comet Kathleen, will you take Mr. Mortimer intvthe other room to have a cup of tea? I'll Introduce you to him, Lady Barnard, as soon as ever he comes back. Such a charming young man I" Mrs. Hesslegrave had smoothed her path in life by the judicious use of that one word "charming." "He's an American, you know, of course, but not the least like most of them. So cultivat«d and nice and belongs, I'm told, to a first rate old Philadelphia family. Really, it's quite surprising what charming Americans one meets about nowadays—the best sort, I mean— the ladies and gentlemen. You wouldn't believe It, but this young man hasn't the slightest Yankee accent. He speaks like an English officer." Mrs. Hesslegrave's late lamented husband had been a general of artillery, and she looked upon an English officer accordingly as the one recognized model of deportment and character in the two hemispheres. "Besides, he's very well off indeed, they tell me. ne's irop In the States and an artist in Paris, but he practices art for art's sake only, and not as a means of livelihood, like my poor, dear Kathleen, Such a delightful young man I You really must know him." "Have a chop with me at the Burlington," the American interposed, with gennine friendliness, "and let's talk this over afterward." No one recognizing or claiming the body, it was taken in charge by the poor authorities and removed to the poor farm at Hansom for bnrial. At the very same moment, in the opposite corner of the room, Canon Valentine was saying under his breath to Mrs. Hesslegrave: "Who is that young man—the "But I call that cynicism," Kathleen persisted, looking up at him. stranger was a cynic, he had w»r-v. the complaint in its most V»r he answered at once with humor: "Oh, no. I don't mere acceptance of the facts srnic assumes a nosition of , Implies that human nature that or the other thing, which v,gher and purer moral sense to much as dream of doing. .* the world 1b not necessarily The cynical touch is added to ' geniality and of human totpossible for us to know what omen are like and yet to owe ige for it—to recognise that, are all of us an fond very *1." "If I'd meant to accept an invitation io dinner," the sailor answered proudly, with just a tinge of the earl showing dimly through, "I would certainly not have mentioned to you that I happened to be minus one." It la thought by some people that the body may be that of a man who fell into the Lackawanna from a bridge near Scranton.Dr. Parke concluded with prayer, and Pastor UoOlementa dismissed the congregation with the benedlotion. D w as he . tbe Mortimer looked at him with a puzzled air. "Well, you are a queer fellow 1" he said. "One can never understand you. Do you really mean to say you're not going to dine at all this evening?" Library Association Meeting. REV. J. C. HOGAN'S CASE. At the annnal meeting of the Pittston Library Association the following officers were elected: Geo. Johnson, Preat; A. A. Bryden, Treas.; C. C. Bowman, Sec.; Trustees, J. B. Shiffer, Geo. Johnson, Alex. Bryden, F. H. Banker, W. H. Young, A. L. Bryden, A. A. Bryden; book oommittee, Geo. Johnson, S. P. Fenn, 0. C. Bowman, Alex. Bryden, and W. H. Young. An Invitation from the Board of trade offering its new room as a future home for the books was accepted. The oommittee was Instructed to purchase an additional book case and an appropriation of $100 was made with whloh to buy new booka. This enterprising move will no doubt form the basis for a public library. An Open Letter to Bishop Andrews Bring* a Response. In a recent isaue of the People Rev. J. 0. Hogan addressed an open letter to Biahop Andrews, In regard to the unpleasantneaa at the late session of the Wyoming Conference In Oarbondale. He said ha oould not decide to take np hie work at the charge given him until he heard from the Biahop; that he had reached "a point where prlndplea and loyalty to onr Lord and Saviour Jeeua Christ constrain me to pause." Other points of hia letter are lC follows: "Sailors learn to go short in the matter of food and sleep,'' Arnold replied, with a faint shrug. "It becomes a second nature to one. I'm certain you're thinking ft great deal more of it than I am myself this moment. Let me be perfectly open with you. I've reached my last penny, except the few shillings I have in my pocket to pay my landlady down at Wapplng. Very well, then, it would be dishonest of me to dine and leave her unpaid. So I must go without anything to eat tonight and look about mo tomorrow for a ship to sail in." "To behave as 'sich,'" the irreverent young American suggested parenthetically.Canon Valentine regarded him with a peering look of his small black eyes. He had a vague suspicion that this bold young man was really trying to chnff him, and one should abstain from chaffing a beneficed clergyman of the Church of England. But he thought it on the whole wisest and most dignified to treat the remark as a serious contribution to a serious conversation. "Quite so," he answered, with a forced smile. "You put it briefly, but succinctly. To fulfill, as far as in him lies, the natural duties and functions of his— ahem—exalted position. Bertie didn't see that. He was always stupidly wishing he was a shoemaker or a carpenter. If you make a pair of shoes, he used to say, you do an undoubted and indubitable servioe to the community at large. A man goes dryHhod for a year in your handiwork. If you give a vote in parliament or develop the resources of your own estate, the value of your work for the world, ho used often to tell me, was more open to question." When Arnold Willoughby, as he had long learned to call himself, even in his own mind—for It was the earnest desire of his life now to fling away forever the least taint or relic of his original position—began to look about him for the means of earning that honest livelihood of which he had spokep so confidently to the doctor, he found in a very short time it was a more difficult task than he had at first oontemolated. He did not desire indeed to give op the sea altogether. The man who carries useful commodities from country to country fulfills as undeniable a service to the state as the man who makes a pair of good shoes, or builds a warm house, or weaves a yard of broadcloth. And of auoh visible and tangible service to his fellow men Arnold Willoughby was profoundly enamored. He coflldn't bear to give up his chosen profession in spite of, or perhaps even because of, its undeniable hardships. Still, he didn't desire to commit what would be practical suicide by remaining at sea through the northern winter. It occurred to him therefore that he might divide his time between winter and summer in different pursuits. He bad always had a great inherited taste for art and had studied, "when he was a gentleman," as he used to phrase it to himself, in a Paris studio. There he had acquired a fair though by no means exhaustive knowledge of the technique of painting, and he determined to try, for one winter at least, whether he could supplement the sea by his pictorial talent. , iika a gentleman and a man of Kathleen wan a little surprtwd, beard him talk, to And him no educated than fthe ha4 at ftrnt (a rough exterior had rather her against the (tailor looking Kranger. But hit voice wax bo pleasant and bis smile go frank that she really qnite admired Aim to spite of his sentiments. She waa Just going to answer him in defease of human nature, against bin supposed strictures, when a voice in the crowd close bf distracted her attention. "Why, Miss HewJegrave, there you are!" it cried. "I wondered if I should aee you. Oh, yes, indeed, I also am among the killed and wounded. I've got no fewer than three of them. What, all my pretty ones) A perfect massacre of the innocents I But, there, the hanging committee Is as bad ah lta name. No respecter of persons. Ratbleas, ruthless, ruthless! And Arnold Willoughby tool Well, Willoughby, how are you' I feally didn't know you two knew eacR other." "And next winter?" Mortimer asked. "I am free to confess, air, that I have no heart to waate further time in making more Kethodlata under suoh conditions and the despotic rule of unprincipled Presiding Eldera. It la not a question of 'good or poor' appointment with me, but a question of ooneclenoe or principle. I should have the same soruplee had you sent me to the most prominent obunh in the Conference, A preacher has no authority to exolnda license voters from our church, and ha muat admit all auoh who apply for membership; and I, for one, oannot see the sense of troubling the laymen so long aa moat of onr Bishops and eo many of our ministers are guilty of the same aln. Yet, if onr General Oonterenoe declarations are true and mean what they aay, you muat acknowledge that no man who votea for a license party can be a consist ent Methodist, to aay nothing about Christianity."two swm to tie the lant. I suppose beoanse we were more modestly retiring than the rest of them. This is a good big picture." "May I help yoyif' he asked. "Well, next winter, if possible, I shall try to pnint again. Should that fail, I must turn my baud to some other means ot livelihood." Lady Barnard smiled and in less than 10 minutes was deep in conversation with the "charming" American. And charming he was, to say the truth. For once in its life Mrs. Hesslegrave's overworked adjective of social appreciation was judiciously applied to a proper object. The rich young American had all tho piquant frankness and cordiality of his nation, with all the grace and tact of Parisian society. Moreover, he was an artist, and artists must be surely poor creatures to start with if the mere accident* of their profession (lon't make them interesting, He was chatting away most brightly to Lady Barnard about the internal gossip of Parisian studios, when the door ojiened once more, and the neat capped maid with the long white apron announced in her clearest offldlaj voice, "Canon and Mrs. Valentine!" "Who In that young manT" very flippant young fellow with the straw colored mustache? I can't say at first sight I'm exactly taken with him." "Yes," Kathleen answered regretfully. "And it took me a long time to paint it." The sailor looking yonng man glanced at the subject carelessly. "Oh, Venetian!" he cried. "Why, bow odd! We're neighbors. Mine'p Venetian too. The very next canal. I painted it quite San Giovanni e Paolo." "What a philosopher you are!" the American exclaimed, astonished. "And what a lesson to fellows like us, who were born and brought up in the lap of luxury and complain to the committee if the chef at the club serves up our cutlets without sauce piqnante! But there, I suppose you other chaps get used to it." .Sudden Death of J. J. Sheridan. And Mrs. Ilesslegrave made answer with the wisdom of the serpent: "No, not at first sight perhaps. I can understand that. He's American, of course, and a leetle bit brusque In his manner, to begin with, but when you know him he's charming. Has lovely rooms in Paris, near the Arc de Triomphe, and a palazzo in Venice on the Grand canal, and gives delightful receptions. He's taken a house in Stanhope street this year for the season. I'll get bim to send yon cards. His afternoons are celebrated, ond when you go to Paris he'll make everything smooth for you. He can do so much! He has influenoe at the emlwssy." The many friends of Jamee J. Sheridan, the well known reetanrant keeper of South Main street, were startled beyond measure last Sunday when the news spread of his death. Mr. Sheridan passed away very suddenly at abont 7 p. m. He was sitting In a chair at his home talking with John J. O'Hara, the tailor, when without a word of warning he fell over and expired in a few seoonda. Heart diaeaae is supposed to have been the cause of death. Mr. Sheridan was about 38 years of age and unmariled. He lived with his sister Ella and brother Will. It will be remem bered that his mother died last March. Mr. Rherldan was a well known member of the Niagara Fire Company and waa for several terms Its secretary. Ogilvie Kedburn, seventh earl of Axminster, smiled once more that quiet little self restrained smile of his, but Arnold Willougliby it was who replied with good humor: "I suppose we do. At any rate, I shall try to ship southward tomorrow.""So I," Kathleen exclaimed, brightening up, a little surprised at the coincidence."When wero you there?" "Last aatunm." "Precisely," the American answered, with a most annoying tone of complete acquiescence."Then I wonder we never met," the yonng man put in, with another sunshiny smile. "I was working on that canal every day of my life from November to Jannary." Hi was carrying her picture as be ipoke toward the door for a cab. The canon stared at him once more. He expected such singular views as his unfortunate kinsman's to rouse at once every sensible person's reprobation, for he had not yet discovered that the world at large is beginning to demand of every man, be he high or low, that he should justify his nresence in a civilized nation bv doing some useful work, in one capacity or another, for the community that feeds and clothes and supports him. "Very odd notions indeed," he murmured half to himself ab a rebuke to the young American. "But, then, his father was mad, and his mother was a gypsy girl." "We don't," Kathleen answered, taking the newcomer's hand. "We've only Just met here. But your friend's been so kind. He's carried my poor rejected picture down for me, and we're watting for a cab. It is such a crash, and all of us trying to pretend we don't mind about it!" "Shall I tell you the truth?" the young American asked suddenly. American? Yes. But what a match he would make, after all, for dear Kathleen! "It's the one desire of my life to hear it," Arnold answered, with sincerity. Their ifostess rose once more quite effusively from her place find advanced toward the newcomers with her best pmjle of welcome. Mrs. Hesslegrave had no fewer than •even distinct gradations of manner for reoeiving her guests, ana you couirtgat- _ at once their relative importance In the social scale by observing as they arrived with which of the seven Mrs. IlessleKrave greeted them. It was clear, therefore, that the Valentines were people of distinction, for she jnoved forward toward the canon and bis wife at the door with the sweetest inclination of that white haired head. "Ob, how good of you to come," she cried, claspiug the lady's hand in both her own. "I know, Canon Valentine, how very much engaged you arel It is so sweet of you!" The canon was a fat, little, baldheaded man, rather waistless about the middle and with a self satisfied smirk on his smooth red countenance, Jle had the air of a judge of port and horses. In point of fact, he was a solitary survivor into our alien epoeli of the almost extinct type of frankly worldly parson, "Well, we are rather driven, Mrs. Ilesslegrave," he admitted, with a sigh—heartless critics might almost have called it a puff—pulling his white tie straight with ostentatious scrupulosity. "The beginning of the season, you see—torn by conflicting claims. All one's engagements before one! But I've heard such good news—such delightful news! I've come here straight, you know, from dear Lady Axminster's." "Oh, how funny!" Kathleen exclaimed, looking closer at his features. "It's queer we never happened to knock up against one another. And we knew so many people in Venice too. Used you erer to go to the Martindales' palazxof" CHAPTER in. MILLIONAIRE AND SAILOR. "Well, I'll tell you what it is. I like you very much, and I admire you immensely. I think you're solid. But I watched those Chioggia Iraats of yours when you were painting them at Venice. You're a precious clever fellow, and you have imagination and taste aud all that Bort of thing, but your technique's deficient. And technique's everything nowadays. You don't know enough about painting, that's the truth, to paint for the market. What yon want is to go for a year or two to Paris and study, study, study as hard as you can work at it. Art's an exacting mistress. She claims the whole of you. It's no good thinking nowadays you can navigate half the year and paint the other half. The world has revolved out of that by this time. You should give up the sea and take to art quite seriously." "Who s cynical now?" the stranger put in, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I do mind very much. It's bread and butter to dm, and I don't pretend to conceal It. But I'll leave jron now. I see you've found a friend, and I can be of no further nrvlee to you." He raised bis hat with more grace than Kathleen could have expected from these rough Ballorlike clothes. "Goodby," he said. "Mortimer, you'll see after the picture." While these things were being said of him in the side street In Kensington Albert Ogilvie Redbum, seventh earl of Axminster, alias Arnold Wllloughby, alias Douglas Overton, was walking quietly by himself down Piccadilly, and not a soul of all he met was taking the slightest notice of him. Bishop Andrew* has replied to the letter as follow*: "I cannot advise you; nor can I make any pledgee a* to the future action of the Wyoming oonference or Ita authorities. I find, for myself, no difficulty In holding fast to the Methodist church whloh ha* already done so much for temperanoe, as well aa for other good causae. If any other minister or member thinks that he compromises hi* ooiaoienoe by still staying with his church, he must obey the light whloh he has and with no criticism from' me of his motives or hi* pDr*on»l Christianity." The young man smiled once more, this time a restrained smile of deprecatory modesty. If his teeth were good, he certainly lost no opportunity of showing them. "No. I didn't know the Martindales," he answered very hastily, as If anxious to disclaim the social honor thus thrust upon him, for the Martindales led Anglo-Venetian society. But it is one thing to paint or sing or write for your own amusement as nn amateur and quite another thing to take up any of these artistic pursuits as a means of livelihood. Arnold soon found he would have enough to do to get through the winter at Venice on his own small savings. When he left Membury castle, near Axminster, three years lDefore he left it and all it meant to him behind him forever. He had taken a solitary half crown in his waistcoat pocket, that being the traditional amount with which the British sailor is supposed to leave home, and he had never again drawn upon the estate for a penny. He didn't want to play at facing the realities of life, but really to face them. If he could fall back from time to time upon the Axminster property to tide him over a bad place, he would have felt himself an Impostor—an Impostor to himself, untrue tq his own inmost beliefs and convictions. Whether he was right or wrong, at any rate he felt so. He wanted to know what he was really worth. He must stand or tall by his own efforts now, like the enormous mass of his fellow countrymen. What Five *1 Kills Accomplished. This money was invested in five bottles of Dr. David Keunedy's Favorite Remedy. "I goffered for nearly ten years with oonstipatlon, jaundice and biliousness," writes Mr. D. Probert, of New Hampton, N. Y., "and the beet medical treatment did me no good. A friend of mine spoke about Dr. Kennedy's Favorite Remedy which I bought, and when I had taken three bottlee I was what most people would call a well man, and two bottle* more cured me. What the doctor* cost hundreds of dollars in trying to do, Favorite Bemedy did for five dollars " If yon are inclluCd to con- Htlpa'ion don't neglect yourself. Dr. Kennedy's Favorite Remedy permanently cures It. "Ho at last ICord Axminster disappeared?" the American continued, nnxious to learn the end of this curious story. It was many years since he had last been in town, and aoonstomed as he was to his changed position the contrast could not fall to strike him forcibly. Ladies be had once known dashed past him in smart victorias without a nod or a smile. Men he had often played with at the Flamingo club stared him blankly in the face and strolled by, unrecognizlqg. The cross sweeper at the corner, who used to turn np to him a cringing face, with a "Qi' me a penny, my lord," now scarcely seemed to notice his presence on the pavement. "If you really want to know how Insignificant yon are," Arnold thought to himself for the fiftieth time, "viewed as a mere human being, all you've got to do is just to doff your frock coat, pull the flower from your buttonhole, forget you're a lord and come down to the ordinary level of workyday humanity. It's a hard life before the mast on a Dundee sealer, and it's almost harder In its way, this trying to earn enough to live upon with one's penril, hut it's worth going through, after all, If only for the sake of fowling oneself faoe The American, for he was one, nodded a polite assent. "How lucky I am, Miss Hesslegrave," he murmured, "to havb met you by accident! And talking to Willoughby too! You can't think what a conquest that la." He glanced with some amusement after the stranger's retreating figure. You know," he said, lowering bis voice, "Willoughby's a professed misogynist, or next door to one anyhow. This is the very first time I've ever seen him speaking to a lady. A* a rule, he ruus away from them the moment he sees one. It was conjectured In Venice among the fellows who knew him he had been what schoolgirls describe as 'crossed In love,' he avoided them so carefully. I suppose the truth is one of them must have jilted him." "At last he disapiiearcd," the canon wenton somewhat dryly. "He disappeared into space in the most determined fashion. 'Twas like the bursting of a soap bubble. He wasn't spirited away. He took good care nobody should ever fancy that. He left a letter behind, saying he was going forth to do some good in the world, nnd a power of attorney for his grandmother to manage the Axminster property. His father and mother were dead, and Maria was the nearest relative he had left him. But he disappeared into space, drawing no funds from the estate and living apparently upon whatever he earned as n gardener or a shoemaker. And from that day to this nothing has since been heard of him." "Then perhaps the Chericisf" Kathleen Interposed once more, with that innate human desire we all of us feel to find some com n&n-pQint with every stranger we run against. "Nq," her new friend replied, looking graverndw. "Nor CountessCherici either. In point of fact, I may say—except one or two other painter fellows, if I can call myself a painter—I knew nobody In Venice. I was not in society." "Thank you for your kindness and frankness," Arnold replied, with genuine feeling, for he saw the American was doing that very rare thing—really thinking about another person's interests. "It's good of you to trouble yourself about my professional prospects." Mr. Hogan'a latest utterance la that ths Bishop "leave* the whole matter juat where It waa before" He *aya further, "I am not prepared to apeak of my plan* for the Immediate future, but let all oonoernei rest assured that thia fight for the right will be continued.""Oh," Kathleen answered, dropping her voice a little, for, though she was a sensible girl, in the circle she had been brought up in not to be in society was considered almost criminal. "But don't you agree with me?" "Oh, perfectly. I see I still sadly want training." A Tlappy Man Is he who uses Red Flag Oil for Rhenmaatlsm, Neuralgia, Tootbaohe and chronlo pains. It's a rtmedy which cures every time. Try it, 25 cents. Red Flag Oil is sold at J. H. Houck's and Stroh's drug stores. There was a moment's pause. Then the American spoke again. "What are yon going to do," he asked, "about your'Chioggia Fisherboats' if you mean to sail tomorrow?""Wasn't theni a lady in '.he case though?" Mrs. Hesslegrnve suggested, just to show her familiarity with the small talk of society. The young man noted the sudden drop in her voice, and a curious little line developed itself for a second near the corners of his mouth—an upward line, curving sideways obliquely. It was clear be was •mused br her altered dwawwofc But he "He was very kind to me," Kathleen Interposed quietly. "He saw me struggling with this great big canvas, and he came up to help me and was so nice and poMfriaboutJfcl' 80 all that winter in Venice the resolute young man, now inured to jDenury, lived, as Hufus Mortimer put it, down a side canal off Italian frltura at three meal* The canon recollected himself. "Oh, yes. I forgot to say that," he answered. "You're oulte riirht Mrs. Hesslegrave. It "I had thought of offering them on commission to some dealer, and if nobody rose to the flv takintf the canvas back again to Low rate excursions West, via the Nickel Plate Boad. Elegant dining oar service on all trains. Uss Well's Laundry Blua, the beat utulng for laundry use. Each makes two quart*. 15c. Sold by B. J. Dork la "Ah, yes," Mrs. Hesslegrave echoed, glancing askance toward the American to
Object Description
Title | Pittston Gazette |
Masthead | Pittston Gazette, Volume 45 Number 91, May 17, 1895 |
Volume | 45 |
Issue | 91 |
Subject | Pittston Gazette newspaper |
Description | The collection contains the archive of the Pittston Gazette, a northeastern Pennsylvania newspaper published from 1850 through 1965. This archive spans 1850-1907 and is significant to genealogists and historians focused on northeastern Pennsylvania. |
Publisher | Pittston Gazette |
Physical Description | microfilm |
Date | 1895-05-17 |
Location Covered | United States; Pennsylvania; Luzerne County; Pittston |
Type | Text |
Original Format | newspaper |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact the West Pittston Public Library, 200 Exeter Ave, West Pittston, PA 18643. Phone: (570) 654-9847. Email: wplibrary@luzernelibraries.org |
Contributing Institution | West Pittston Public Library |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Description
Title | Pittston Gazette |
Masthead | Pittston Gazette, Volume 45 Number 91, May 17, 1895 |
Volume | 45 |
Issue | 91 |
Subject | Pittston Gazette newspaper |
Description | The collection contains the archive of the Pittston Gazette, a northeastern Pennsylvania newspaper published from 1850 through 1965. This archive spans 1850-1907 and is significant to genealogists and historians focused on northeastern Pennsylvania. |
Publisher | Pittston Gazette |
Physical Description | microfilm |
Date | 1895-05-17 |
Location Covered | United States; Pennsylvania; Luzerne County; Pittston |
Type | Text |
Original Format | newspaper |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Identifier | PGZ_18950517_001.tif |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact the West Pittston Public Library, 200 Exeter Ave, West Pittston, PA 18643. Phone: (570) 654-9847. Email: wplibrary@luzernelibraries.org |
Contributing Institution | West Pittston Public Library |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Full Text | ( Oldest newspaper in the Wyoming Valley. PITTSTON, LUZERNE CO., PA., FRIDAY. MAY 17, 189',. A Weekly Local and Family Journal. "An, yes,' toe American answered, a little lower than before, with a meaning glance, "kind to you, Miss llesslegrave. That doesn't prove much. Even a confirmed misogynist could hardly be less. We must allow for circumstances." see it ne wan listening. "She is ho charming, isn't she, Ijirty Axminster?" was cherchez la femme of course, asusnal. Bertie had been engaged to a girl of whom he was passionately fond, but she threw him overboard. I must say myself, though I never cared for the boy, she threw him overboard most cruelly and unjustifiably. In point of fact, between ourselves, she had a better offer—an offer from a marquis—a wealthy marquis. Axminster was poor, for a man in his position, you understand. These things are relative. And the girl threw him overboard. I won't mention her name, because this is all a family matter, but she is a marchioness now and universally admired, though I must admit she behaved badly to Bertie." "Shook his faith in women, I expect?" the American suggested. to race witn tne realities or existence, i never should have found out, now, how poor a creature I really was—or how strong a one either—if I hadn't put my worth quite fairly to the test in this-practical manner. It makes a man renlize his market value. As it is, I know I'm a tolerable A. B. and a very mediocre hand at a paying seascape." ft penny—lived ami thrived on it and used up his Ravings and appeared at last in Loudon that spring with the picture he had painted, anxious to pit himself in this as in other things on equal terms against his fellow craftsmen. As he walked down Piccadilly, gazing somewhat aimlessly into the windows of the picture shops and wondering whether anyliody would ever buy his "Chioggia Fisher boats," he suddenly felt a hand clap(Ded on his shoulder and turned round half terrified to observe who stopped him. Hnd some member of his own club, in front of which he was just passing, seen through the double disguise of burnt skin and altered features? But no. He recognized at a glance it was only Rufus Mortimer, tired of the inanities of afternoon tea at Mrs. Hesslegrave's rooms and escaping from the canon on the tithes commutation bill Venice next winter anil painting it over with another picture." PASTOR IMPLEMENTS INSTALLED. "Quite so," tho canon answered. "A very dear old cousin of mine, nsyoa know. Lady Harimrd, and so much cut up about this dreadful business of her scapegrace grandson. Well, we've got a clew of him at last. We really believe we've got a genuine clew to him." Kufus Mortimer paused a moment. This was a delicate matter. Then ho said in a rather constrained, half hesitating way, "Suppose you were to leave it with me and see whether I could manage or not to dispose of if?" Interesting Services at the First Presby- terian Church Last Evening. Beautiful tropical and flowering plant* graoed the pulpit of of the First Presbyterian Church on May 9, when the aervloea Incident to the installation of the Ber. A. Boss MoGlements, as paator of thi church, took plaoe. There waa a large and Interested congregation present, lno odlng representatives from nearly all of the oharohes In Phtaton and West Plttaton and the various Presbyterian chnrchcs ia surrounding places that bare gone oat at the Plttaton chnrch. Kathleen colored a little, but didn't altogether dislike the compliment, for Mortimer was rich—very rich indeed—and the acknowledged catch of the artistic American colony in Paris. But Bhe turned the subject hastily. "Where did you iljcet himf" she asked, looking down at her pretty shoes. "He's bo rough looking outside. Yet he seems a gentleman." Fj "No, yon don't mean to say bo!" Mrs. Ilesslegrave cried, deeply interested. You would have believed Lady Axminster was her dearest friend, Instead of being merely a distant howingacquaintance. "I thought he had gone off to South Africa or somewhere."It was not without difficulty indeed that Arnold Willoughby—to call him by tho only name that now generally belonged to him—had managed thus to escape his own personality. Many young men Of 27, It Is true, might readily shuffle off their friends and acquaintances and might disappear In the common ruck, no man suspecting them, though even for a commoner that's a far more difficult task than you might imagine when you come to try it. But for a peer of the realm to vanish Into space like a burnt out fire balloon is a far more serious and arduous undertaking. He knows so many men, and so many men know him. So when Albert Ogilvie Red burn, earl of Axminster, made up his mind to fade away into thin air, giving place at last to Arnold Willoughby, he was forced to do It with no small deliberation. A round red spot burned brightly in Arnold Willoughby's cheek. He flushed like a girl with sudden emotion. All the rent roll of the Axniinster estates was waiting for him in Lincoln's Inn, if he had cared to take it, but by his own deliberate design he had cut himself ofif from it, and sink or swim he would not now, after putting his hand to the plow, turn back again. He would starve sooner. But the generous offer thus delicately cloaked half unmanned his resolution. "My dear fellow," he exclaimed, turning round to the American, "how much too good you arel Not for worlds would I leave It with you. I know what you mean, and I am 110 lsss grateful to you than if I accepted your offer. It isn't often one meets with such genuine kindness. But for character's sake I prefer to worry through my own way unaided. That's a principle in life with me. But thank you all the same, thank you, thank you, thank you!" A X 1 # made no reply. lie only Imhv the piclui.? gravely to the door of the iicnileuiy and there tried to call the attention of hoih« Cing haiiHom. But it was clearly use They were all engaged already, aud the crush at the door was Htill so great there could be no chance of hiring one for another 10 minutes. So the young man laid down the big picture near the door, with its faoe propped up against the entrance wall, and.aaying quietly, "I'll help yiu In with It by and by when I see any chance," went back to the inner room to recover his own Venetian canvas. D He was gone a minute, mnd when he returned Kathleen could see he almost cm- "Oh, he is a gentleman undoubtedly," Mortimer answered, with true American candor, "a born gentleman, though not quite the conventional one. He's as poor as a church mouse, and he's been a sailor, I fancy." "What? A romance of the peerage?" the young American asked, pricking up his ears. "A missing lord? A coronet going begging? Lost, stolen or strayed, the heir to an earldom I Is that about the siee of it?" "Entirely," the canon answered. "That's just what he wrote in his last letter. It gave him a distaste for society, he said, lie preferred to live henceforth in a wider world, where a man's personal qualities counted for more than JiJs wealth, his family or his artificial position. I suppose he meant America." CHAPTER I. AH ACCIDENTAL MKKTIKO. The programme announced In advance was carried oat to the number. The Invocation waa pronounced by Ber. W. Scott States, of Wyoming, who also acted aa chairman of the meeting. Ber. A. J. Wlaley, of Avoca, read the Scriptural lesson from the 191st Psalm and Revelations 21. The oholr sang an anthem In good [style, and Ber. T. W. Swan led In prayer. "Who is he?" Kathleen asked, with evident interest. "Precisely," the canon answered, turning toward him, half uncertain whether it was right to encourage so flippant a treatment of so serious a subject. "You've heard of it no doubt—this unfortunate young man's very awkward disappearance. It's not on his own account, of course, that the family mind. He might have gone off if he chose and nobody would have noticed it. He was always a strange, eccentric sort of person, and for my part, I say often to dear Lady Axminster, the sooner.could get rid of him the better. Bnf it's for Algy she minds. Poor Algy Redburn, who meanwhile is being kept out of the family property." "For what port aro you bound?" the young American asked, running hla arm 'Twm a dejected, dispirited, sheepish looking throng that gathered one black Wednesday round the big back door in Burlington gardens, for it waa taking away day at the Royal academy. For weeks before that annual holocaust many anxious heart* have waited and watched in eager suspense for the final verdict of the hanging committee. To hang or not to hang—that is the question. Bat on taking away day the terrible flat at last arrive*, the committee regret—on a lithographed form—that want of apace compels them to decline Mr. 8»-a»Cl-eo'* oil painting, "The Fall of Bateton."jr. Miss Whatahername'a water eon*, "By "Ah, who is he? That's the question," Mortimer answered mysteriously. "He's a dark horse, I imagine. I picked him up accidently last autumn in Venice. He used to lodge at a tiny Italian trattoria down a side canal, not far from my palazzo, and live off fritura—yon know the sort of stuff —#sh, flesh and fowl, three meals a penny.""How brave of him!" Kathleen said simply. "He looks very nice. And all for art's sake, I suppose, Mr. Mortimer?" The American laughed. "All for poverty Vwike, I he answered, with candor. "So he told me himself. He didn't core eo much about art, he said, as about earning a livelihood, and I really believe he starves in his den when he sells no pictures." "If he did," Mortimer put in, with a moaning smile, "I should reckon he knew vory little nbout our country." "And you nay you've got a clewf" Mrs. Hesalegrave Interposed. "What is it, canrDnf"It would not be enough for him to change no more than his name and costume. In London, New York, Calcutta, Rio, Yokohama, there were people who might any day turn up and recognize him. His disguise, to succeed, must be better than superficial. But he was equal to the oocasion. He had no need for hurry. It was not as though the police were on bis track in hot haste. Time after time his disguise might be detected, but he could learn by his errors how to make it safer for the future. His one desire was get rid forever of that ihcubus of a historical name and a great position in the county which made it impossible for him to know life aB it was, without the cloaks and pretences of flunky* and sycophants. He wished to find out his own market value. The canon wagged his head. "Ah, that's It," he echoed. "That's just it. What is i« Well, Mnria has found out—clever woman, Maria—that he sailed from London three years ago under the assumed name of Douglas Overton In a ship whose rxact title I don't remember—the Saucy Fometh ing-or-other — for Melbourne or Sydney. And now we're in hopes we may rtwlly track him." He stood for a moment irresolute. Tears trembled in his eyes. He could put up with anything on earth but kindness. Then he wrung his friend's hand hard, and with a sudden impulse darted down a side street in the direction of St. James. The American gazed after him with no Uttls interest. "That's a brave fellow," he said to himself as Arnold disappeared round a oorner in the distance. "But he won't go down just yet. He has far too much pluck to let himself sink easily. I expect I shall find him next autumn at Venice." The sermon of the evening was by Bev. Samuel Banftt Nelson, of Philadelphia. His text was Psalms 181, 1st veiae: "I wfll lift up mine eyas unto the hills, from Mi his own pictuw down «fc m from ben, as though he was whence oometh my help." He dwelt on the suggestiveness of the mountains and Mils «s showing the strength and power of God, and he very vividly described how the mountains of Bible history were the scenes of the promulgation of the teaching* of the ohrletian religion, beginning with Mount Sinai, where the law wm made known In the form of the ten Commandment!; then Mount Mori ah, where the leason of faith was taught, aa being the fulfillment of the Law; Mount Gerisim and Mount Ebsl, from which the people were taught that obedience waa better than sacrifice; the Mount of Olivea where tha Law waa Interpreted by Jtsns, and where love waa taught aa the fulfillment of the Law; the Mount of Calvary, where the Law waa magnified by the death of Jeeue Christ sa an ezp'atlon thereof, and, finally, Mount Zlon, where our salvation will bo consummated, and where It will be ma- anxious to continue the conversation. "Well, but this is very know," Rufus Mortimer interjected as the canon paused. "I haven't heard about this. Tell me how it all happened and why you want a clew. A missing link or a missing earl is always so romantic." Leafy Thames," and politely Inform them that they may remove them at their leisure and at their own expense from Burlington House by the back door aforesaid. Then follows a sad ceremony. The rejected flock together to recover their alighted goods and keep one another company in their hour of humiliation. It to a community of grief, a fellowship in misery. Each is only sustained from withering under the observant eyes of his neighbor by the inward consciousness that that neighbor himself, after all, is in the selfeame box anil has been the recipient that day of an iiientloal letter. Nevertheless, it was some consolation to Kathleen Hesslsgrave in her disappointment to observe the varying moods and shifting huruors of her fellow sufferers among the rejected. She had a keen sense of the ridiculous, and it lightened tar trouble somewhat to watch among the crowd the different fuuny ways in which other people bore or concealed their own disappointment for her edification. There were sundry young men, for example, with long hair down their backs and loose collars of truly Byronic expansiveneas, whom Kathleen at once recognised as unacclaimed geniuses belonging to the very newest and extremest school of modern impressionism. They hailed from Newlyn. These lordly souls, budding Raphaels of the future, strolled into the big room with a careless air of absolute unconcern, as who should wonder they had ever deigned to submit their immortal works to thu arbitrament She was sorry for that. He had seemed so eager to help her with such genuine kindliness, and she was afraid he saw his last remark about not being in society had erected an instinctive class bawier between them. 80 after a moment's hesitation Rhe left her own work to take care of itself and took a step or two forward toward her new acquiantance's ambitious canvas. "You saw mine," she said apologetically, by way of reopening conversation. "May I see yours t One likes to sit in judgment on the hanging committee." "Why did he rnn away from nsf" Kathleen asked, peering around into the crowd to see if she could discover him. "But if you don't «are about him and the family's well quit of him," the American interjected, "why on earth do you want to?" "Well, to tell yon the truth," Mortimer replied, "I think it was mainly because he Raw me come up, und also because of the faint intonation in your voice when you said, 4We don't know one another.' Willoughby's a misogynist, as I told yon, and he's also sensitive—absurdly sensitive —he might almost be one of my fellow countrymen. I don't doubt when you said that he took it as his dismissal, lie understood you to mean: 'Now I've done, sir, with yon. Here's somebody else I know. Yon may go about your business.' And being a person who always feels acutely when he's de trop he went about his business at once accordingly." The canon leaned back luxuriously in his easy chair and sipped at the cup of tea Kathleen Hesslegrave had brought him. "Thank you, my dear," he said, rolling it critically on his palate. "One more lump, if you please. I always had a sw'eet tooth, though Sir Everard has just cut off my sugar. Says I must take saccharin, but there isn't any flavor in it. I'm thankful to say, however, he hasn't cut me off my port, which is always something. Said he to me: 'I'll tell you what it is, canon, if yon drink port, you'll have the gout, but if you don't drink port the gout'll have you.' So that's highly satisfactory." And the baldheaded old gentleman took another Hip at the sweet sirup in his cup, of which the tea itself only formed the medium.Canon Valentine turned to him with an almost shocked expression of countenance. "Oh, we don't want to find him," he said in a deprecatory voice. "We don't want to find him. Very much the contrary. What we want to do is really to prove him dead, and as the Saucy Something-orother, from London to Melbourne, went ashore on her way out in the Indian ocean somewhere, we're very much in hopes— that is to say, we fear, or rather we think it possible—that every soul on board her perished." KILLED BY LIGHTNING. spontaneously through the casual acquaintance's, and Arnold liked him for the action, it was so frank and friendly. "No port in particular," Willoughby answered, with his cheery smile. "I'm driven out of my course—stormbound, In point of fact, and scudding under bare poles in search of a harbor." Abram VanScoy, a Well Known Resident His first attempt, therefore, was to ship on board an outward bound vessel as a common sailor. From childhood upward he had been accustomed to yachts and htd always been fond of managing the rigging. So he found little difficulty in getting a place on board during a sailors' strike and making a voyage as far as Cape Town. At the cape he had transferred himself by arrangement on purpose to a homeward bound ship, partly in order to make it more difficult for his cousins to trace him, but partly, too, in order to return a little sooner to England. He thus aocidently escaped the fate to which Canon Valentine so devoutly desired to consign him in the Indian ocean. Arriving home in his oommon sailor clothes, at Liverpool he determined to carry out a notable experiment. He had read in a newspaper which he found on board a most curious accov.nt of one Silas Quackenboss, an Ame. can face doctor, who undertook to make the plainest faces beautiful, not by mere skin deep devices, but by surgical treatment of the muscles and cartilages of the human countenance. The runaway earl made np his mind to put himself through a regular course of physical treatment at the hands of this distinguished American professor of the art of disguises. The result exceeded his utmost expectations. His very features came out of the process so altered that, as the professor proudly affirmed, "India rubber wasn't in it," and "His own mother wouldn't have known him." It was no mere passing change that had thus been effected. He was externally a new person. The man's whole expression and air were something quite different. The missing earl had arrived at Liverpool as Douglas Overton. He left It three weeks later as Arnold Willoughby, with an almost perfect confidence that not a soul on earth would ever again be able to recognize him. of Itallax, the Victim. The heavy thunderstorm which panaofl over this locality on Saturday evening waa attended by a fatality near Dallaa from a lightning stroke, says the Wllkeebarre Record. Abram VanSooy, son of Samuel VanSooy, was instantly killed abont five p m., in the open fields. He and several others were working on the John A. Hildabrant farm, a mile north of Dallsa, when the storm came upon them before they conld shelter. While hurrying across the field Van8ooy'a oompanlone, who were separated from him by anly a few rods, were blinded by a flash and on regaining their sight were horrified to find that he had been killed. Portions of his olothlng were torn from his body and were in a blaze, while one of his quivering arms was fairly roasted. The victim of this sad fatality was abo§t 40 yeara of are and was unmarried. He is highly spoken of at Dallaa. He has a brother living at Wyoming and another Pittaton. The young man seemed pleased. He had a speaking face and was handsome withal, with a seafaring handsomeness. "Oh, yes. If you like," he answered, "though I'm afraid you won't care for it." And he turned the painted face of the picture toward her. The American seized at once upon the meaning that underlay this quaint nautical phraseology. "I suspected as much," he replied, with genuine good nature, looking hard at his man. "It was a disappointment to you, I'm afraid, not getting your picture taken." "But why on earth didn't they take it?" Kathleen cried spontaneously almost as soon aa she aaw it. "What lovely Mght on the aurface of the water) And, oh, the beautiful red sails of those Chioggia fishing boats!" i "Excellent material for a second Tlchbornecase," Mrs. Hesslegrave suggested. "I'm sorry," Kathleen put In, "fori really rather liked him." The canon pursed his lips. "We'll hope not," he answered, "for poor Algy's sake; we'll hope not, Mrs. Hesslegrave. Algy's his cousin. Mad A xmiuster had one brother, tne Jlonoraoie Algernon, wno was aigy's father. You see, the trouble of it Is by going away like this and leaving no address Bertie made it impossible for us to settle his affairs and behave rightly to the family. He's keeping poor Algy out of his own, don't yon see? That's just where the trouble is." "Oh, he's a thorough good sort," the American answered quickly. "He's sterling, Willoughby is. Not at all the sort of man that's given away with a pound of tea. None of your cotton backed gentlemen. You may test him all through, and you'll find from head to foot he's the genuine material." The sailor half colored. He was prepared for almost anything on earth except sympathy. "Oh, not much," he answered, with his breezy carelessness—the brisk nonchalance of the born aristocrat was one of the few traits of his rank and class he had never even attempted to get rid of, consciously or unconsiously. "I should have liked to have it taken, of course, but it it isn't worth taking, why, it'll do me good to be taught my proper place in the scale of humanity and the scale of painters. One feels at least one has been judged with the ruck, and that's always a comfort. One's been beaten oatright on a fair field and no favor." •♦But how about Lord Axminster?" the American persisted, with the insistence of bis countrymen. terlallzed. The sermon waa a very fine discourse, full of rich thoughts, eloquence, "I'm glad yon like It," the stranger replied,with evident pleasure, blushing like • girl. "I don't care for criticism as a rule, but I love sincerity, and the way yon ■poke showed me at once you were really sincere a"bout it. That's a very rare quality—about the hardest thing to get In this world, I fancy." "Oh, ah, poor Axminster," the canon went on reflectively, stirring the liquid in his cup with his gilt bowled apostle spoon —Mrs. Hesslegrave was by no means rich, and she lived in lodgings, to her shame, during her annual visit to London, but she flattered herself she knew the proper way to provide afternoon tea for the best society. "I was coming to that. It's a Bad, bad story. To tiegin with, you know, every romance of the peerage involves a pedigree. Well, old Lady Axminster —that's my cousin, the dowager—had two sons. The eldest was the late earl— mad Axminster, they called him—who married a gypsy gi rl and was the father of the present man, if he is the present man—that is to say, if he's still living." and power. Mlaa Jeseie Perrin aang moat effectively ■ beautiful solo entitled, "Jesus, Lover of My Soul." "Couldn't you bring him with you to tea this afternoon?" Kathleen suggested, half hesitating. "I think mamma sent you an at home card for Wednesdays." The constitutional questlona to the new pastor were propounded by the Bev. Scott Stltea. "Yes, I was quite sincere," Kathleen answered with truth. "It's a beautiful picture. The thing I can't understand is why on earth they Mould have rejected it." "If he's dead," Rufus Mortimer suggested, with American common sense, "but not if he's living." "Oh, I'm ooming," the American answered, with prompt acquiescence. "I've not forgotten it, Miss Iiesslegrave. Is it likely I should? Well,.no, I don't think so. But as for Willoughby—ah, there, yon know, that's quite a different matter. I don't suppose anything on earth would induce him to go to an at home of anybody's. He'd say it was hollow, and he despises hollowness. He'll never go in for anything but realiites. To tell you the truth, I think the only reason he spoke to you at all at the academy here this morning was because he saw a chance of being of some practical service to you, and the moment the practical service was performed he took the very first opportunity that offered to slip off and leave you. That's Willoughby all over. He cares for nothing at all in life, except its realities." of a mere everyday hanging committee, and they affected to feel very little surprise indeed at finding that a vulgar bourgeois world had disdained their efforts. They disdained the vulgar bourgeois world in return with contempt st compound interest visibly written on their esthetic features. Others, older and shabbier, slunk In unobserved and shouldersd their canvases, mostly unobtrusive landscapes, with every appearance of antique familiarity. It was not the first time they had received that insult. Yet others, again—and these were chiefly young girls—advanced, blushing and giggling a little from suppressed nervousness, to recover with shame thslr unvalued property. Here and there, too, a big burly shouldered man elbowed his way through the crowd as though the plaoe belonged to him and hauled off his magnum opus—generally a huge field of historical canvas, "King Edward at Calais" or "The Death of Attlla"—with a defiant face which seemed to bode no good to the first academician he might chance to run against on his way down Bond street. A few, on the contrary, were anxious to explain, with unnecessary loudness of voice, that they hadn't sent in themselves at all this year—they had called for a picture by a friend, that was all, really. Kathleen stood aside and watched their varied moods with quiet amusement. It distracted her attention for the time from her own poor picture. "But we'll hojDe," the canon began, then he checked himself suddenly—"we'll hope," he went on with a dexterous afterthought, "this clew Maria has got will set tle the question at last, one way or the other." The charge to the pastor followed. This waa by Bev. Jamee McLeod, D. D., of 8cranton, who dwelt upon the dntiea of the pastor. His addreaa waa moat Interesting and contained many valuable suggestions.The young man shrugged his shoulders and made an impatient gesture. "They have so many pictures to judge In so short a time," he answered, with a tolerance which was evidently habitual to him. "It doesn't do to expect too much from human nature. All men are fallible, with perhaps the trifling exception of the pope. We make mistakes ourselves sometimes, and In landscape especially they have such miles to choose from. Not," he went on after a short pause, "that I mean to say I consider my own fishing boats good enough to demand success, or even to deserve it. I'm the merest beginner. I was thinking only of the general principle." "It's a queer sort of consolation," the American answered, smiling. "For my own part, I'm in the same box, and I confess I don't like it, though with me, of course, it doesn't matter financially. It's only my amour propre, not my purse, that's hurt by it." DEATH OF ECKLEY B. COXE. "Oh, here's Mrs. Burleigh!" the hostess exclaimed, rising once more from her seat with the manner suitable for receiving a distinguished visitor. "So glad to see you at last. When did yon come np from that lovely Norchester? And how's the dear bishop?" The Millionaire Coal Operator Has Passed Away. Bev. Dr. Parke delivered the charge to the people. He aatd, In substanoe: "It is not enough that the Goepel la preached and that you hear. 'Take heed how ye hear.' You are to hear the Word, not m the word of man, but as the Word of God. Ton are to hear thla Word with the prayer, 'Open Thou my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of Thy law.' The preached Word la to be heard with a purpose on the part of thoee who hear to retain It, otherwise the evil one will carry it away. It la to be heard with a purpose to do it But more particularly, in referenoe to this brother. See to It, that you meet, promptly and fully, your engagements to him in the call you have given hi™ Do not hesitate to let your pastor know that you appreciate his work. Do not let the effusion of affection be so 'gushing* during the honeymoon that there be nothing further on. Help him in every way you can, by your preeenoe in the sanctuary, by taking heed to what he has to say to yon, by apeaklng well of him, by defending him agalnat false accusations, by oo-operating with him in carrying out his plans for work. Do not expeot too muoh of him in the pulpit or out of it. He Is only a man. He oannot preach a great serCnon every time he preaches. Be member he la Christ's minister to you, he is your pastor. It Is not for you to ssy what he shall preach or shall not preach, so long aa he delivers faithfully Christ's message. Remember that aa he must give an aooount to God for the manner in which he preachea the Word, you must give an aooount to God for the manner in which yon hear it" "The missing lord, in fact ?" Rufus Mortimer put in interrogatively. Bazleton, Pa., May 18. Arnold ilkea this rranK recognition or the gulf between their positions. "Well, that does make a difference," he said. "There's no denying it. I counted upon selling this picture to go on painting next winter. As it is, I'm afraid I shall have to turn to some other occupation. I can't earn enough at sea in one summer to keep me alive and find me In painting materials during the winter after it." Rufus Mortimer gave a sudden little start of surprise. "Why, I never thought of that," he cried. "One-half the world doesn't know how the other half lives, in spite of the constant efforts of the society journalists to enlighten it on the subject. I suppose to you, now, canvas and paint and so forth cost something considerable. And yet one never before so much as thought of them as an element in one's budget." Hon. Eckley B. Coze, the mlllional e ooal operator, at the head of the firm of Brothers, died this morning at the family home In Drifton. Mr. Coze had been 111 for several days with pneumonia, but even so late aa Saturday evening his physician gave encouraging reports of his condition, so that the announcement of his death was somewhat a surprise. "Quite so," the canon assented, "the missing lord, who is therefore, you will see, my cousin Maria's grandchild. But Maria never eared for the lad. From his childhood upward that boy Bertie had ideas and habits sadly unbefitting that station in life, etc. He had always a mania for doing some definite work in the world, as he called it—soiling his hands in the vineries, or helping the stable boys, or mending broken chairs, or pottering about the grounds with an ax or a shovel. He had the soul of an undergardener. His father was just as bad—picked up wonderful notions about equality and Christian brotherhood and self help, and so forth. But it came out worse in Bertie—• his name was Albert. I suppose the gypsy mother had something or other to do with It. I'm a great believer in heredity, you know, Lady Barnard—heredity's everything. If once you let any inferior blood Mko that into a good old family, there's no knowing what trouble you may be laying in store for yourself." "I knew Axminster at Oxford," a very quiet young man in the corner, who had been silent till then, oltserved in a low voice to Rufus Mortimer. "I mean the present man—the missing earl—the gypsy's son, as ('anon Valentine calls him. I aan't say I ever thought him the least bit mad, except in the way of being very conscientious, if that's to be taken as a sign of madness. He hated wine parties, which was not unnatural, considering his grandfather had drunk himself to death, and one of his uncles had to be confined as an habitnal inebriate, and he liked manual labor, which was not unnatural either, f'ir he was a splendidly athletic fellow, as fine built a man as ever I saw and able to do a good day's work with any navvy in Britain. Bnt he was perfectly sane and a martyr to conscience. He felt this girl's treatment of him very much, I believe—yon know who it was, I.ady Sark, the celebrated beauty— and he also felt that people treated him very differently when they knew he was Ixird Axminster from the way they treatM him when he went about the coast as a common sailor In a little tub fishing yacht, which he was fond of doing. And that made him long to live a life as a man, not as an earl, in order that he might see what there really was in him." "I'm afraid you're a dreadful cynic," Kathleen put In, with a little wave of her pretty gloved hand, just to keep up the oonvematlon. She was still engaged in looking close Into the details of his rejected handicraft. Though deficient in technique, it had marked imagination. Of conrse he had not confided the secret of his personality to the jlhierican quack, who probably believed he was assisting some criminal to escape from justice, and who pocketed his fee in that simple belief without a qualm of conscience. So, when he sailed from Liverpool again In his new character as Arnold Willoughby, it was in the confident hope that he had shuffled off forever his earldom, with its accompanying limitations of vtfew, and stood forth before the world a new and free man, face to face at last with the realities and difficulties of normal self supporting human existence. "Now I live like a man," Nero said to himself when he had covered half the site of burned Rome with his golden house. "Now I live like a man," the self deposed earl exclaimed in the exactly opposite spirit as he munched the dry biscuit and coarse salt pork of the common sailor on the Dudley Castle. CHAPTER H. MTffi. HESSLEQRAVX AT HOWE. That same afternoon Mrs. Heeslegrave'a little rooms in n side street in Kensington were Inconveniently crowded. Mrs. Heatiegrave would hare been wounded to the sore had it been otherwise, for though she was poor she was still "in society;" Every second Wednesday through the season Mrs. Hesslegrave received. Sooner would she have gone without breakfast and dinner than have failed to All her rooms for afternoon tea with "the best people." Indeed Mrs. Hesslegrave was the exact antipodes of Arnold Willoughby. 'Twas for the appearances of life she lived, not for Its realities. "It would look so well," "It would look so bad," those were the two phrases that rose oftenest to her lips, the two phraaea that summed up in antithetical simplicity her philosophy of conduct. Mr. Coze was one of the most prominent residents of Eastern Pennsylvania. From 1881 Co 1885 he served the Twenty first Senatorial District in the State Senate. The stranger smiled a broader and more genial smile than ever. "Oh, no, not a cynic, I hope," he answered, with emphasis, in a way that left no doubt about his own ainoerlty. "It isn't cynical, surely, to reoogniae the plain facta of human nature. We're all of as prone to judge a good deal by the moat superficial circumstances. Suppose, now, yon and I were on the hanging committee ourselves. Just at first, of oourse, we'd be frightfully anxious to give every work the fullest and fairest consideration. Responsibility would burden us. We would weigh each picture well and reject it only after due deliberation. But human nature can't keep up such a strain as that for long together. We'd be- Sa very fresh, but toward the end of the y we'd be -dazed and tired. We'd say: 'Whose is thatf Ah, by So-and-so's ton, a brother R. A. I know bis father. Well, It's not badly painted. We'll let it in, I think. What do you say, Jiggamareef And then with the next:4 Who's this by, porterf Oh, a fellow called Smith. Not very distinctive, is it? H'ra! We've rejected every bit as good already. Sjmce is getting full. Well, put it away for the present, Jones. We'll mark it doubtful.' Chat's human nature, after all, and what we each of ua feel we would do ourselves we can none of us fairly blame in others." "They're a very serious item," Arnold answered, with that curious suppressed smile that was almost habitual to him. He was 56 years of age, and is survived by a wife, but o child en. "Then what do you mean to do?" the American asked, turning round upon him. "I hardly know yetmyself," Arnold answered, still carelessly. "Itdoesn't much matter. Nothing matters, In point of fact, and if it does never mind—I mean to say, personally. One lone ant in the hive is hardly worth making a fuss about." BODY FOUND IN THE RIVER. At last she found herself almost the only person remaining out of that jostling crowd, with a sailor looking man, brown and bronzed, beside her. " But Gallon says," the young American was bold enough to interpose, "that all the vigor and energy of the British aristocracy—when they happen to have any— cornea really from their mesalliances, from the handsome, strong and often clever young women of the lower orders—actresses and bo forth—whom they occasionally marry." Probably That of a I'olaixler, But Not Imlentifled aw Yet. On Monday at 9:30, the dead body of a man waa found in the river at the end of the sewer just below the Ferry bridge, on the eaat aide. The body waa pnlled to shore, and waa viewed by Lundrtds of people. It waa son:ewhat deoompoeed, and to all appearanoee had been in the water for some time. The man waa short and chnnky. He wore a striped pantaloons, bine overalls, black ooat and had a handkerchief tied abont the neek. "'In a Side Canal,' Kathleen Hesslegrave. Yes, this is yours, mum," the porter said gruffly. ' But you'll want a man to take it down to the cab for you." Three years at sea, however, began to tell In time even upon Arnold Willoughby's splendid physique. He had to acknowledge at last that early training to hardships, too, counts for something. Ills lungs, it turned out, were beginning to be affected. He consulted a doctor, and the 4TDctor advised him to quit the sea and take up, If possible, with some more sedentary indoor occupation. Above all, he warned him against spending the winters in northern seas and recommedned him, if a landlubber's life was out of the question, to ship as much as practicable in the colder months for tropical voyages. Arnold smiled to himself at the very different spirit in which the medical man approached the sailor's case from the way in which he would have approached the case of Lord Axminster, but he was accustomed by this time to perfect self repression on all these matters. He merely answered, touching an imaginary hat by pure force of acquired habit as he spoke, that he thought he knew a way in which he could earn a decent livelihood on shore if he chose, and that he would avoid in future winter voyages in high latitudes. But as the bronzed and weather beaten sailor laid down his guinea manfully and walked out of the room the doctor said to himself, with a little start of surprise, "That man speaks and behaves with the manners of a gentleman." "Where are you going to dine?" the American put in, with a sudden impulse. Thus unexpectedly driven to close quarters, Arnold replied with equal truth and candors "I'm not going to dine anywhere. To say the plain fact, I didn't think of dining."Therefore it wa. a small matter to Mrs. Hesslegrave that her friends were jostling and hustling each other to their mutual Inconvenience in her tiny lodgings. Their discomfort counted to her for less than nothing. It looks so well to have your '' at homes" attended. It looks so bad to see them empty, or, worse still, filled by the wrong sort of people. Kathleen glanced at her little arms. They were not very strong, to be sure, though plnmp and shapely. Then she looked at the porter. Bat the porter stood unmoved. With a struggling little effort Kathleen tried to lift it. "In a Side Canal" was a tolerably big picture, and she failed to manage it. The sailor looking body by her side raised his hat, with a smile. H1h face was brown and weathet beaten, but he had beautiful teeth, verj white and regular, and when be smiled h showed them. He looked likea gentleman too, though he was so roughly dnased with a sailor's roughness. "May I bel] your" he asked - he raised his hat. "WC The canon stared hard at him. These might DDe scientific truths indeed, not unworthy of discussion at the British association, but they ought not to be unexpectedly flung down like bombshells in an Innocent drawing room of aristocratic Kensington. "That may be so," he answered chillily. "I have not read Mr. Gal ton's argument on the subject with the care and attention which no doubt it merits. But gypsies are gypsies, and monomania is monomania, with all due respect to scientific authority. So at an early age, as I was alxDut to observe, these bad ancestral traits began to come out in Bertie. lie insisted upon it that he ought to do some good work in the world, which was very right and proper of course. I hope we all of us share his opinion on that score," the canon continued, checking himself and dropping for a mpment into his professional manner. "But, then, his unfortunate limitation of view to what I will venture to call the gypsy horizon made him fail to see that the proper work in the world of an English nobleman is—is" "A very one taste, -tne young rniin delphian replied. "Now, I for my part like best to live among people who know all about me and my grandfather, the vice president, who made the family pile, because when I go outside my own proper circle I see people only value me at my worth as a man, which I suppose must be just about 12 shillings a week and no allowance for beer money." "Why not?" Mortimer persisted. "Because," the other answered, with a very amused look, "I don't happen to possess the wherewithal to dine upon." "Oh, here's that dear Mr. Mortimer," Mrs. Hesslegravegnshed forth, rising with empressement as the young American entered. "How do you do, Mr. Mortimer? How good of you to comet Kathleen, will you take Mr. Mortimer intvthe other room to have a cup of tea? I'll Introduce you to him, Lady Barnard, as soon as ever he comes back. Such a charming young man I" Mrs. Hesslegrave had smoothed her path in life by the judicious use of that one word "charming." "He's an American, you know, of course, but not the least like most of them. So cultivat«d and nice and belongs, I'm told, to a first rate old Philadelphia family. Really, it's quite surprising what charming Americans one meets about nowadays—the best sort, I mean— the ladies and gentlemen. You wouldn't believe It, but this young man hasn't the slightest Yankee accent. He speaks like an English officer." Mrs. Hesslegrave's late lamented husband had been a general of artillery, and she looked upon an English officer accordingly as the one recognized model of deportment and character in the two hemispheres. "Besides, he's very well off indeed, they tell me. ne's irop In the States and an artist in Paris, but he practices art for art's sake only, and not as a means of livelihood, like my poor, dear Kathleen, Such a delightful young man I You really must know him." "Have a chop with me at the Burlington," the American interposed, with gennine friendliness, "and let's talk this over afterward." No one recognizing or claiming the body, it was taken in charge by the poor authorities and removed to the poor farm at Hansom for bnrial. At the very same moment, in the opposite corner of the room, Canon Valentine was saying under his breath to Mrs. Hesslegrave: "Who is that young man—the "But I call that cynicism," Kathleen persisted, looking up at him. stranger was a cynic, he had w»r-v. the complaint in its most V»r he answered at once with humor: "Oh, no. I don't mere acceptance of the facts srnic assumes a nosition of , Implies that human nature that or the other thing, which v,gher and purer moral sense to much as dream of doing. .* the world 1b not necessarily The cynical touch is added to ' geniality and of human totpossible for us to know what omen are like and yet to owe ige for it—to recognise that, are all of us an fond very *1." "If I'd meant to accept an invitation io dinner," the sailor answered proudly, with just a tinge of the earl showing dimly through, "I would certainly not have mentioned to you that I happened to be minus one." It la thought by some people that the body may be that of a man who fell into the Lackawanna from a bridge near Scranton.Dr. Parke concluded with prayer, and Pastor UoOlementa dismissed the congregation with the benedlotion. D w as he . tbe Mortimer looked at him with a puzzled air. "Well, you are a queer fellow 1" he said. "One can never understand you. Do you really mean to say you're not going to dine at all this evening?" Library Association Meeting. REV. J. C. HOGAN'S CASE. At the annnal meeting of the Pittston Library Association the following officers were elected: Geo. Johnson, Preat; A. A. Bryden, Treas.; C. C. Bowman, Sec.; Trustees, J. B. Shiffer, Geo. Johnson, Alex. Bryden, F. H. Banker, W. H. Young, A. L. Bryden, A. A. Bryden; book oommittee, Geo. Johnson, S. P. Fenn, 0. C. Bowman, Alex. Bryden, and W. H. Young. An Invitation from the Board of trade offering its new room as a future home for the books was accepted. The oommittee was Instructed to purchase an additional book case and an appropriation of $100 was made with whloh to buy new booka. This enterprising move will no doubt form the basis for a public library. An Open Letter to Bishop Andrews Bring* a Response. In a recent isaue of the People Rev. J. 0. Hogan addressed an open letter to Biahop Andrews, In regard to the unpleasantneaa at the late session of the Wyoming Conference In Oarbondale. He said ha oould not decide to take np hie work at the charge given him until he heard from the Biahop; that he had reached "a point where prlndplea and loyalty to onr Lord and Saviour Jeeua Christ constrain me to pause." Other points of hia letter are lC follows: "Sailors learn to go short in the matter of food and sleep,'' Arnold replied, with a faint shrug. "It becomes a second nature to one. I'm certain you're thinking ft great deal more of it than I am myself this moment. Let me be perfectly open with you. I've reached my last penny, except the few shillings I have in my pocket to pay my landlady down at Wapplng. Very well, then, it would be dishonest of me to dine and leave her unpaid. So I must go without anything to eat tonight and look about mo tomorrow for a ship to sail in." "To behave as 'sich,'" the irreverent young American suggested parenthetically.Canon Valentine regarded him with a peering look of his small black eyes. He had a vague suspicion that this bold young man was really trying to chnff him, and one should abstain from chaffing a beneficed clergyman of the Church of England. But he thought it on the whole wisest and most dignified to treat the remark as a serious contribution to a serious conversation. "Quite so," he answered, with a forced smile. "You put it briefly, but succinctly. To fulfill, as far as in him lies, the natural duties and functions of his— ahem—exalted position. Bertie didn't see that. He was always stupidly wishing he was a shoemaker or a carpenter. If you make a pair of shoes, he used to say, you do an undoubted and indubitable servioe to the community at large. A man goes dryHhod for a year in your handiwork. If you give a vote in parliament or develop the resources of your own estate, the value of your work for the world, ho used often to tell me, was more open to question." When Arnold Willoughby, as he had long learned to call himself, even in his own mind—for It was the earnest desire of his life now to fling away forever the least taint or relic of his original position—began to look about him for the means of earning that honest livelihood of which he had spokep so confidently to the doctor, he found in a very short time it was a more difficult task than he had at first oontemolated. He did not desire indeed to give op the sea altogether. The man who carries useful commodities from country to country fulfills as undeniable a service to the state as the man who makes a pair of good shoes, or builds a warm house, or weaves a yard of broadcloth. And of auoh visible and tangible service to his fellow men Arnold Willoughby was profoundly enamored. He coflldn't bear to give up his chosen profession in spite of, or perhaps even because of, its undeniable hardships. Still, he didn't desire to commit what would be practical suicide by remaining at sea through the northern winter. It occurred to him therefore that he might divide his time between winter and summer in different pursuits. He bad always had a great inherited taste for art and had studied, "when he was a gentleman," as he used to phrase it to himself, in a Paris studio. There he had acquired a fair though by no means exhaustive knowledge of the technique of painting, and he determined to try, for one winter at least, whether he could supplement the sea by his pictorial talent. , iika a gentleman and a man of Kathleen wan a little surprtwd, beard him talk, to And him no educated than fthe ha4 at ftrnt (a rough exterior had rather her against the (tailor looking Kranger. But hit voice wax bo pleasant and bis smile go frank that she really qnite admired Aim to spite of his sentiments. She waa Just going to answer him in defease of human nature, against bin supposed strictures, when a voice in the crowd close bf distracted her attention. "Why, Miss HewJegrave, there you are!" it cried. "I wondered if I should aee you. Oh, yes, indeed, I also am among the killed and wounded. I've got no fewer than three of them. What, all my pretty ones) A perfect massacre of the innocents I But, there, the hanging committee Is as bad ah lta name. No respecter of persons. Ratbleas, ruthless, ruthless! And Arnold Willoughby tool Well, Willoughby, how are you' I feally didn't know you two knew eacR other." "And next winter?" Mortimer asked. "I am free to confess, air, that I have no heart to waate further time in making more Kethodlata under suoh conditions and the despotic rule of unprincipled Presiding Eldera. It la not a question of 'good or poor' appointment with me, but a question of ooneclenoe or principle. I should have the same soruplee had you sent me to the most prominent obunh in the Conference, A preacher has no authority to exolnda license voters from our church, and ha muat admit all auoh who apply for membership; and I, for one, oannot see the sense of troubling the laymen so long aa moat of onr Bishops and eo many of our ministers are guilty of the same aln. Yet, if onr General Oonterenoe declarations are true and mean what they aay, you muat acknowledge that no man who votea for a license party can be a consist ent Methodist, to aay nothing about Christianity."two swm to tie the lant. I suppose beoanse we were more modestly retiring than the rest of them. This is a good big picture." "May I help yoyif' he asked. "Well, next winter, if possible, I shall try to pnint again. Should that fail, I must turn my baud to some other means ot livelihood." Lady Barnard smiled and in less than 10 minutes was deep in conversation with the "charming" American. And charming he was, to say the truth. For once in its life Mrs. Hesslegrave's overworked adjective of social appreciation was judiciously applied to a proper object. The rich young American had all tho piquant frankness and cordiality of his nation, with all the grace and tact of Parisian society. Moreover, he was an artist, and artists must be surely poor creatures to start with if the mere accident* of their profession (lon't make them interesting, He was chatting away most brightly to Lady Barnard about the internal gossip of Parisian studios, when the door ojiened once more, and the neat capped maid with the long white apron announced in her clearest offldlaj voice, "Canon and Mrs. Valentine!" "Who In that young manT" very flippant young fellow with the straw colored mustache? I can't say at first sight I'm exactly taken with him." "Yes," Kathleen answered regretfully. "And it took me a long time to paint it." The sailor looking yonng man glanced at the subject carelessly. "Oh, Venetian!" he cried. "Why, bow odd! We're neighbors. Mine'p Venetian too. The very next canal. I painted it quite San Giovanni e Paolo." "What a philosopher you are!" the American exclaimed, astonished. "And what a lesson to fellows like us, who were born and brought up in the lap of luxury and complain to the committee if the chef at the club serves up our cutlets without sauce piqnante! But there, I suppose you other chaps get used to it." .Sudden Death of J. J. Sheridan. And Mrs. Ilesslegrave made answer with the wisdom of the serpent: "No, not at first sight perhaps. I can understand that. He's American, of course, and a leetle bit brusque In his manner, to begin with, but when you know him he's charming. Has lovely rooms in Paris, near the Arc de Triomphe, and a palazzo in Venice on the Grand canal, and gives delightful receptions. He's taken a house in Stanhope street this year for the season. I'll get bim to send yon cards. His afternoons are celebrated, ond when you go to Paris he'll make everything smooth for you. He can do so much! He has influenoe at the emlwssy." The many friends of Jamee J. Sheridan, the well known reetanrant keeper of South Main street, were startled beyond measure last Sunday when the news spread of his death. Mr. Sheridan passed away very suddenly at abont 7 p. m. He was sitting In a chair at his home talking with John J. O'Hara, the tailor, when without a word of warning he fell over and expired in a few seoonda. Heart diaeaae is supposed to have been the cause of death. Mr. Sheridan was about 38 years of age and unmariled. He lived with his sister Ella and brother Will. It will be remem bered that his mother died last March. Mr. Rherldan was a well known member of the Niagara Fire Company and waa for several terms Its secretary. Ogilvie Kedburn, seventh earl of Axminster, smiled once more that quiet little self restrained smile of his, but Arnold Willougliby it was who replied with good humor: "I suppose we do. At any rate, I shall try to ship southward tomorrow.""So I," Kathleen exclaimed, brightening up, a little surprised at the coincidence."When wero you there?" "Last aatunm." "Precisely," the American answered, with a most annoying tone of complete acquiescence."Then I wonder we never met," the yonng man put in, with another sunshiny smile. "I was working on that canal every day of my life from November to Jannary." Hi was carrying her picture as be ipoke toward the door for a cab. The canon stared at him once more. He expected such singular views as his unfortunate kinsman's to rouse at once every sensible person's reprobation, for he had not yet discovered that the world at large is beginning to demand of every man, be he high or low, that he should justify his nresence in a civilized nation bv doing some useful work, in one capacity or another, for the community that feeds and clothes and supports him. "Very odd notions indeed," he murmured half to himself ab a rebuke to the young American. "But, then, his father was mad, and his mother was a gypsy girl." "We don't," Kathleen answered, taking the newcomer's hand. "We've only Just met here. But your friend's been so kind. He's carried my poor rejected picture down for me, and we're watting for a cab. It is such a crash, and all of us trying to pretend we don't mind about it!" "Shall I tell you the truth?" the young American asked suddenly. American? Yes. But what a match he would make, after all, for dear Kathleen! "It's the one desire of my life to hear it," Arnold answered, with sincerity. Their ifostess rose once more quite effusively from her place find advanced toward the newcomers with her best pmjle of welcome. Mrs. Hesslegrave had no fewer than •even distinct gradations of manner for reoeiving her guests, ana you couirtgat- _ at once their relative importance In the social scale by observing as they arrived with which of the seven Mrs. IlessleKrave greeted them. It was clear, therefore, that the Valentines were people of distinction, for she jnoved forward toward the canon and bis wife at the door with the sweetest inclination of that white haired head. "Ob, how good of you to come," she cried, claspiug the lady's hand in both her own. "I know, Canon Valentine, how very much engaged you arel It is so sweet of you!" The canon was a fat, little, baldheaded man, rather waistless about the middle and with a self satisfied smirk on his smooth red countenance, Jle had the air of a judge of port and horses. In point of fact, he was a solitary survivor into our alien epoeli of the almost extinct type of frankly worldly parson, "Well, we are rather driven, Mrs. Ilesslegrave," he admitted, with a sigh—heartless critics might almost have called it a puff—pulling his white tie straight with ostentatious scrupulosity. "The beginning of the season, you see—torn by conflicting claims. All one's engagements before one! But I've heard such good news—such delightful news! I've come here straight, you know, from dear Lady Axminster's." "Oh, how funny!" Kathleen exclaimed, looking closer at his features. "It's queer we never happened to knock up against one another. And we knew so many people in Venice too. Used you erer to go to the Martindales' palazxof" CHAPTER in. MILLIONAIRE AND SAILOR. "Well, I'll tell you what it is. I like you very much, and I admire you immensely. I think you're solid. But I watched those Chioggia Iraats of yours when you were painting them at Venice. You're a precious clever fellow, and you have imagination and taste aud all that Bort of thing, but your technique's deficient. And technique's everything nowadays. You don't know enough about painting, that's the truth, to paint for the market. What yon want is to go for a year or two to Paris and study, study, study as hard as you can work at it. Art's an exacting mistress. She claims the whole of you. It's no good thinking nowadays you can navigate half the year and paint the other half. The world has revolved out of that by this time. You should give up the sea and take to art quite seriously." "Who s cynical now?" the stranger put in, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I do mind very much. It's bread and butter to dm, and I don't pretend to conceal It. But I'll leave jron now. I see you've found a friend, and I can be of no further nrvlee to you." He raised bis hat with more grace than Kathleen could have expected from these rough Ballorlike clothes. "Goodby," he said. "Mortimer, you'll see after the picture." While these things were being said of him in the side street In Kensington Albert Ogilvie Redbum, seventh earl of Axminster, alias Arnold Wllloughby, alias Douglas Overton, was walking quietly by himself down Piccadilly, and not a soul of all he met was taking the slightest notice of him. Bishop Andrew* has replied to the letter as follow*: "I cannot advise you; nor can I make any pledgee a* to the future action of the Wyoming oonference or Ita authorities. I find, for myself, no difficulty In holding fast to the Methodist church whloh ha* already done so much for temperanoe, as well aa for other good causae. If any other minister or member thinks that he compromises hi* ooiaoienoe by still staying with his church, he must obey the light whloh he has and with no criticism from' me of his motives or hi* pDr*on»l Christianity." The young man smiled once more, this time a restrained smile of deprecatory modesty. If his teeth were good, he certainly lost no opportunity of showing them. "No. I didn't know the Martindales," he answered very hastily, as If anxious to disclaim the social honor thus thrust upon him, for the Martindales led Anglo-Venetian society. But it is one thing to paint or sing or write for your own amusement as nn amateur and quite another thing to take up any of these artistic pursuits as a means of livelihood. Arnold soon found he would have enough to do to get through the winter at Venice on his own small savings. When he left Membury castle, near Axminster, three years lDefore he left it and all it meant to him behind him forever. He had taken a solitary half crown in his waistcoat pocket, that being the traditional amount with which the British sailor is supposed to leave home, and he had never again drawn upon the estate for a penny. He didn't want to play at facing the realities of life, but really to face them. If he could fall back from time to time upon the Axminster property to tide him over a bad place, he would have felt himself an Impostor—an Impostor to himself, untrue tq his own inmost beliefs and convictions. Whether he was right or wrong, at any rate he felt so. He wanted to know what he was really worth. He must stand or tall by his own efforts now, like the enormous mass of his fellow countrymen. What Five *1 Kills Accomplished. This money was invested in five bottles of Dr. David Keunedy's Favorite Remedy. "I goffered for nearly ten years with oonstipatlon, jaundice and biliousness," writes Mr. D. Probert, of New Hampton, N. Y., "and the beet medical treatment did me no good. A friend of mine spoke about Dr. Kennedy's Favorite Remedy which I bought, and when I had taken three bottlee I was what most people would call a well man, and two bottle* more cured me. What the doctor* cost hundreds of dollars in trying to do, Favorite Bemedy did for five dollars " If yon are inclluCd to con- Htlpa'ion don't neglect yourself. Dr. Kennedy's Favorite Remedy permanently cures It. "Ho at last ICord Axminster disappeared?" the American continued, nnxious to learn the end of this curious story. It was many years since he had last been in town, and aoonstomed as he was to his changed position the contrast could not fall to strike him forcibly. Ladies be had once known dashed past him in smart victorias without a nod or a smile. Men he had often played with at the Flamingo club stared him blankly in the face and strolled by, unrecognizlqg. The cross sweeper at the corner, who used to turn np to him a cringing face, with a "Qi' me a penny, my lord," now scarcely seemed to notice his presence on the pavement. "If you really want to know how Insignificant yon are," Arnold thought to himself for the fiftieth time, "viewed as a mere human being, all you've got to do is just to doff your frock coat, pull the flower from your buttonhole, forget you're a lord and come down to the ordinary level of workyday humanity. It's a hard life before the mast on a Dundee sealer, and it's almost harder In its way, this trying to earn enough to live upon with one's penril, hut it's worth going through, after all, If only for the sake of fowling oneself faoe The American, for he was one, nodded a polite assent. "How lucky I am, Miss Hesslegrave," he murmured, "to havb met you by accident! And talking to Willoughby too! You can't think what a conquest that la." He glanced with some amusement after the stranger's retreating figure. You know," he said, lowering bis voice, "Willoughby's a professed misogynist, or next door to one anyhow. This is the very first time I've ever seen him speaking to a lady. A* a rule, he ruus away from them the moment he sees one. It was conjectured In Venice among the fellows who knew him he had been what schoolgirls describe as 'crossed In love,' he avoided them so carefully. I suppose the truth is one of them must have jilted him." "At last he disapiiearcd," the canon wenton somewhat dryly. "He disappeared into space in the most determined fashion. 'Twas like the bursting of a soap bubble. He wasn't spirited away. He took good care nobody should ever fancy that. He left a letter behind, saying he was going forth to do some good in the world, nnd a power of attorney for his grandmother to manage the Axminster property. His father and mother were dead, and Maria was the nearest relative he had left him. But he disappeared into space, drawing no funds from the estate and living apparently upon whatever he earned as n gardener or a shoemaker. And from that day to this nothing has since been heard of him." "Then perhaps the Chericisf" Kathleen Interposed once more, with that innate human desire we all of us feel to find some com n&n-pQint with every stranger we run against. "Nq," her new friend replied, looking graverndw. "Nor CountessCherici either. In point of fact, I may say—except one or two other painter fellows, if I can call myself a painter—I knew nobody In Venice. I was not in society." "Thank you for your kindness and frankness," Arnold replied, with genuine feeling, for he saw the American was doing that very rare thing—really thinking about another person's interests. "It's good of you to trouble yourself about my professional prospects." Mr. Hogan'a latest utterance la that ths Bishop "leave* the whole matter juat where It waa before" He *aya further, "I am not prepared to apeak of my plan* for the Immediate future, but let all oonoernei rest assured that thia fight for the right will be continued.""Oh," Kathleen answered, dropping her voice a little, for, though she was a sensible girl, in the circle she had been brought up in not to be in society was considered almost criminal. "But don't you agree with me?" "Oh, perfectly. I see I still sadly want training." A Tlappy Man Is he who uses Red Flag Oil for Rhenmaatlsm, Neuralgia, Tootbaohe and chronlo pains. It's a rtmedy which cures every time. Try it, 25 cents. Red Flag Oil is sold at J. H. Houck's and Stroh's drug stores. There was a moment's pause. Then the American spoke again. "What are yon going to do," he asked, "about your'Chioggia Fisherboats' if you mean to sail tomorrow?""Wasn't theni a lady in '.he case though?" Mrs. Hesslegrnve suggested, just to show her familiarity with the small talk of society. The young man noted the sudden drop in her voice, and a curious little line developed itself for a second near the corners of his mouth—an upward line, curving sideways obliquely. It was clear be was •mused br her altered dwawwofc But he "He was very kind to me," Kathleen Interposed quietly. "He saw me struggling with this great big canvas, and he came up to help me and was so nice and poMfriaboutJfcl' 80 all that winter in Venice the resolute young man, now inured to jDenury, lived, as Hufus Mortimer put it, down a side canal off Italian frltura at three meal* The canon recollected himself. "Oh, yes. I forgot to say that," he answered. "You're oulte riirht Mrs. Hesslegrave. It "I had thought of offering them on commission to some dealer, and if nobody rose to the flv takintf the canvas back again to Low rate excursions West, via the Nickel Plate Boad. Elegant dining oar service on all trains. Uss Well's Laundry Blua, the beat utulng for laundry use. Each makes two quart*. 15c. Sold by B. J. Dork la "Ah, yes," Mrs. Hesslegrave echoed, glancing askance toward the American to |
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