Pittston Gazette

              I Oiliest Kewsnauer in the WvomiB? Valley PITTSTON. I.I'ZKIiNi: CO., PA., FRIDAY, FKBKUARY 12. 181)2. \ Weekly Local and Familv Journal. j*uo hi:# a hi h i In AdTHnce and linked the present to the past. In that old church, the good and peaceful Puller spoke loving words to those who Bat within the walls, and crowded about the windows and doors to get within reach of his voice. And there, too, he preached his last sermon to the wedding couple, who were members of Adeline nas not macus i '1"r n 1 begged her not to be In. vried. times it oecurs t D me that «c arc all using the poor girl very bat'J Jmore and more surprised ut curious lamruor. No one has e\*or given her even the faintest hint of that disastrous ;il":iir of his. ' _ kncrau words in ;ui undertone "What docs t:us mean, Seaward?" Adeline Vjlliers asked Her face vraa THOUGHTS FROM XYK f' . C£Y few®? S.jui "If she lovt- me, ihfs beilcve, I would ill;' create should jfriove." W (^v a IT MADE HIM TIRED. is Claud's Seaward Aylstone had pone regularly to the chapel on Sundays for years. Ho belonged to the crowd of deep thinkers and earnest brain-workers who (fathered round Mr. Sidney, and found rest and refreshment in his teaching There was a freshness and quietness in the chaplain's sermons; his voice guided his hearers to the preen pastures and still waters of life, and Seaward, who was an eager toiler, spending himself on his art, felt the good of this restful intiu- haughty, her tone cool and coipjwsfd. She was fronti-rig Ayistone and looking He Was Dcterniinrd to Have No Morn tit hiin with • r;»v eyes 11»«*t ncomod to rend Ins very heart. BILL BEGINS WITH COLD TEA AND NoiiseUM; About IDiuali, WINDS UP AT DWIGHT, I was talking with a colored man who had been sweeping off the depot platform and making himself generally nseful around the place, when a strange colored man, who had evidently walked a long ways, turned aside apd sat down on a barrel of salt close to us.- It was two or three minutes before he spoke, and then he asked of the employee: "Was your name Misser Johnson, flush mounted to his bronzed foreheart. and he glane«i away, ashamed to meet her searching gaze. It was the chaplain who answered the difficult question; and his voice, gentle and quiet is ever, soothed the perturbed spirits near him. "Has.he not got over that affair.' the chaplain asked. Sir Edwin Arnold Is All Itiulit ill nis opMPHldT EtiTY his flock, and was carried out of his beloved sanctuary to die. There were no regrets for the dignities so lately bestowed upon him, no troubles about worldly things; but only "all humble thankfulness and submission to God's welcome providence." Wajr, lDnt His C;( ,uir.s Might Be Het- "No; and Itlon't believe he ever will. He knows that lie behaved like a scoundrel " '"r- Where Is That l etter from tlie POUDNEY Ouffll? "lie wanted to marry Mrs. Villiers' companion. Was not that it?" said I Copyright. I8lr;, by VV. Nye. I In Ohio, the (Jrkat Political ) Batti.k (iholmi. .laiumiy. ( "Miss \ illicrs, you have now learned a thing that ought to have been told you long ago. Do not be hard on Seaward; he wanted you to know everything, but Claud refused to speak; Mrs. Villiers insisted on his silence. Lucy Cromer, once your grandmother's companion, was Claud's promised wife." Mr. Sidney. euee 1 notice.' said a moral looking man 3'esterday as we journeyed westward, Bah?" Olive sat there and meditated, and saw the yellow leaves dropping slowly in the still sunshine. Watching them idly at first, she began, after a time, to remember that these very loaves had taken the sun and dew of spring: and all the freshness and fragrance of those earlier days came back to her with a sudden thrill, stirring her with emotions which she had believed to be almost deadly. Ilow soon the autumn of her life had come! It was tranquil; it might be sweet; D'it the gladness of springtide is the one irrecoverable joy that, in this world, can never be granted "Yes. My grandmother had engaged a young woman as liuiid, One day he saw Olive among the congregation and followed her, as we have seen, to her own door. Other Sundays came, ami he saw her again and again, and he longed to speak to her and know her. And then he opened his mind to the chaplain. "Yes, sah," was the reply. "You belong right heah, do you?' "Yes, sah. Who was yon, sah?" "1 was Misser Brown, sah." "Brown—Brown! 1 reckon I nebber did meet up wid you befoT" "Recken not. I libs over at Tillsbnry, sah." "that as we get into the states where liquors are prohibited 011 the dining ear oy act of legislature more people order tea at table. Can you tell ine why it is so-' [CONTINUED.] lace and gentle ways. Hut he never has tried. Time goes on, and we do not draw an inch nearer to each other. If . CHAPTER XII. JACK AND JILL. Ifljll Adeline Villiers seemgd to bring a sense of life and freshness into the old house in Cecil street. A subtle fragrance Coated in with her; her soft biaclc skirts rustled gently through the dim passage: a bunch of violets nestled in the lace that was folded loosely round her neck; she wore a little black bonnet glittering with jet, and was altogether a very distinguished-looking young woman. At the sight of her Seaward's quiet face brightened, but she was not alone. Granny was 6lowly getting out of her carriage. granny tells him that he has got to marry me before Christmas, he will placidly consent. Hut, Seaward. I don't like the prospect of a lifetime spent with an utterly indifferent husbtmd. I urn not rain, yet I cannot help feeling that I am worthy of a stronger feeling." . "And ho threw her over," saul Adeline. coolly, "because he was afraid of grandmother, lie preferred to break his heart (such as it is!) rather than lose an old woman's money. Mr. Sydney. I thimU you sincerely for bringing Miss Winfield here to-day." \D vN / "No. I cannot, just at this moment," I sanl, like a yonng man undergoing a civil service examination for the position of president of the U nited Stares. "Why is it.-' h{ Mr. Sidney already knew something of Samuel Wake, and had pone to the book-seller's house and talked to Olive in her own home. It did not surprise him that Seaward had fallen in love with this girl's face, for the face had a soul shining through it, and Seaward was not the man to linger over a lamp without a flame. Nor did it surprise ljim that the painter should frankly ask for his help in the matter lie was ac- "Yes, [ see. Au did you curu ober hoah to see ine?" "Yes, sah. Did you dun git married las' y'ar?" "Yes." •Weil I did not know till I tried it myself. I ordered tea with a wink and got Bass ale in a teapot and served in a teacup and saucer. Why, a man could foot dis own wife that way. It looks just the same, and if yon blow it a little betore you drink it, or pour it into your saucer, like a member of the legislature, you can make quite a hit with the prohibition people. The astonishing growth ot lea drinking for mechanical purposes 111 the dry states is worthy of note, and shows that a colored waiter on a dining car is abler in his line than a member of the legislature is in his'n. I will give a colored waiter a quarter to evade a law that it c£»st ifWS.'HKI to p;iss, and he will do it for me. That's my idea of amateur legislation anyhow." And there is a gram or two of truth in what he said. "1 did Dot know that her coming would lead to this disclosure," he replied. "But I ain glad that you know the truth. Only I wish that it had not been revealed in such a sudden way." "You are worthy of the strongest feeling that a man can give Adeline," "Pid yon dun git jined to a tall woman with a sore eye an fo' front teef he said with true heartiness. "As to Claud, there is a gr«at deal about him that one naturally likes and admires. I have been hoping that you would kindle a fire within him. Is he really as to us again. A COMPI.I'TE SET OF GESTURES. out?" She was no longer bitter and desolate, yet the sense of a lost youth (which comes oftener to those still young, than to the old) was too strong for her at this moment. Something growing rank on my still unanswered Hi I lie Do "Date die woman, sail." "Mighty spry about gittin around?" "Yes." "I am sorry," said Olive, softly. "It was so startling to find her face here.' And I never knew Lucy's story: she did not blame anyone. She forgave all.'' d I customed, as we know, to give counsel to the perplexed, and aid to those who could get assistance from no other quarter. Moreover, he knew that a man's "fancy," whether bred I saw a very sad man yesterday on the cars as I rude west. There were scalding tears in every tone, and his chin quivered like a horse's lip. His name was Brown. he said, generally called F lauiingo Brown, because of a long, wavy neck he bad. which struck me as the longest, ruddiest sweep of undulating neck and aquiline Adam's apple that I had ever seen. "She voiild come," murmured Adeline, "ond she won't po anywhere else. The carriage is to return for us in two hours. F said that I could not possibly look throurrh all your sketches in less than two hours." cold as you imagine?" "Spits on her hands an goes 'ha!' when she chops wood, same as a man?1 "Data my wife, sah. Did you use to know her?" "Don't be deceitful, old boy. You arid 1 are,always perfectly frank with each other. When you have talked with Claud, have you ever discovered any sigri of warmth toward me? \ ou know you have not." an Dsi in her throat; the tears filled her eves, and she thought she would allow tiiem to flow without restraint. They "The dying saint might forgive, but the living'sinner cannot." Adeline spoke in her old-spirited fashion. "Don't be sorry. Miss Winfield; yon have done me a very great kindness. Yon shall hear now that I hare been tricked into an engagement with my cousin Claud—the man who lias just gone out of the room. When he was absent, and sad. and languid—as he often was—I set it down to weak health, and not to a guilty conscience. My grandmother always had a store of excellent excuses ready; and even Seaward—" did flow and plcnteouslv. Once set "In tbo heart or in the head" mny develop into one of those deep loves which are the blessing or the the curse of life. "Right well, sah. She was my wife, but she dun runn'd away las' y'ari I'ze come to take her home." flowing they would not stop, for thoughts and memories came crowding after them. Every scenc in her brief experience seeincVl to be suddenly revived at this moment; voices, long hushed, were calling to her from the past, aud drowning all the sounds of the present. The habit of self-restraint. so constantly cultivated for the sake of others, was broken through at last. "IIow do you do, Seaward?" said the old lady, formally. "I am not fond of the Strand, and 1 don't like being dragged out in the afternoon unless it is absolutely neecssary. Hut Adeline has the strongest will I have ever known. I am quite unable to cope with her—q'tite unable." "Nigger, said the man with the broom as he stepped back and assumed a pose. "I'ze a good natured man. an I doan' want no row! Do you know how many strange uiggers hev cum along heah in de las" six months an claimed dnt woman?" "Hut, Adeline, I was always hoping that- the warmth would come. And he really docs admire you very much." thi:y whke now talking quietly. Every love affair is a mystery, and those who bring two persons together do not know whether they strike the first note of a dirge or a Te Deum. lust as she was starting for the Tyroi. The pirl was singularly "Ah, Seaward!" the bright gray eyes grew soft and sad, "I am foolish enough to dream of something sweeter and deeper than nduiiration. I don't believe much in raptures; all I ask is the sweet; old-world gift of spontaneous affection. If Claud had chosen me just as Jack chooses Jill, I might have be«n a contented woman. Hut ho did nut choose me: he simply accepted me from granny's liands." clever and beautiful, and actually found her way into tho old lady's affections. When tliey returned she was no .longer maid, but companion. And then ('laud met her in the house in Curzon and straightway foil in lot Flamingo Brown told me that he was on his way to Dwight. Ills., and in order to give the Keeley cure a good, honest trial ho said he should enter the. institute in a beastly state of intoxication, fie had a pretty fair start already, and some of Ins longest words tlcw to my head in a very short time. 1 struck something new in stiles j ester lay. it was a stile over a barbed wire tence. It was plain, but pii-turasjiie. It was very much as follows: CHAPTER XV. "IT IS LfCT." Still uttering feeble complaints, Mrs. Villiers was conducted into a pretty room where a fire was burning on the brightly-colored tiles of the fireplace; a luxurious arm-chair stood invitingly near a tea table, and Seaward's housekeeper (who had been Adeline's nurse) was waiting to take the old lady's mantle.•cot, "No, sah." It was a red-letter day with Olive when Mr. Sidney took her to the painter's studio. Bout seben. sah—"bout seben—an you make eight! I dim tole 'em all abont it. an explained de hull case, an took up my valuable time, which belongs to de Nashville railroad, an does you know what ails me now? Does you know, sah?" When at length her bowed heu* was lifted, some one spoke to her in a calm tone that she had heard before. She looked up, startled and yet strangely quieted, and met the gaze of the speaker. It was Mr. Sidney, the chaplain. "Tliey must have attracted Mrs. VL1 liers' notice," s:iid tlie chupluio. is lcoon-sighted, I fancy "Seaward craves your mercy, Adeline," Alystone said, humbly. -fr s "She She had been to the exhibition of the Royal academy with Uncle Wake, and he had pointed out all the works of great artists. She had stood spellbound before a picture of Seaward Aylstone's and had tried afterwards to describe it to Michael. Hut Michael never had patience enough to listen to descriptions. Ho always grudged every moment that was not spent in talking about himself. "I was blinded," she went on. "I thought, as people generally do think, that it would all come right by and by, for him and for me. As if anything could giD well with a man who had been utterly and hopelessly false!" 15E "1 was nut always thus," said Flamingo Brown, uncoiling his neck from around his scatfpin and swallowing an imaginary dumbbell so that you could hear it in the next car. Then "he sobbed a little on the hack of the seat, meantime feeling blindly about in his {tockets for a hatulk-rchief which ho did not have. I felt sorry for him and gave him an extra which I wear in my overcoat pocket for looks entirely. It is one 1 thought at tiie Bon Marche, in Paris, paying for it three francs and a pour ixjir. Yon cannot do anything in "Paris without a pour boir. When 1 called oil Caruot I sent in my card and a pour boir and never saw either of them "No; she was quite blind. Mijreover her mind was steadily set on marryihg Ciaud 10 Adeline, and she thought of nothing els?. It was a pity that her "Granny is too fond of playing provi dence," said Seaward, in an uneasy tone Now there were few things that granny liked better than a chat with Tabby, who knew all about the family and its ways, and whose only fault was her absurd adherence to Seaward Aylstone. And Tabby, being, a discreet woman, knew just what to say, and what to leave unsaid. She guessed that the cousins wanted to have a confidential talk upstairs in the studio; and she also divined that they relied on her to keep Mrs. Villiers amused and in a good humor while they were absent. 'You are in trouble." said the quiet The style of stile in Ireland, as 1 remember it, was something like this: "Well, sah, I'ze dun tired out wid dis pussin! Dat's my cabin right ober dar. You go ober an see Dinah. If she dun wants to go back wid you, all right: if she dun refuse den you'd better strike a gallop au git outer dis burg as fast as you kin, fur I feel a bilin goin on widin me, an if 1 turn loose 1 shall mangle jou all to squash afore you knows it!" 'No, sail." "It is possible that Cl.'iud has-seen his J!U elsewhere r-an unattainable Jill." There was a note of interrogation at the end of this sentence; but Aylstone was silent. She rose and went to look at the bowl of flowers which her hands had arranged, the day bef.-r.-. Then, with one of her quick movem ents, she came to his side, touching him gently on the shoulder: "You do not advise me, old boy." Her clear voi trembled a little. "One man knows another's secrets and never tells them. 1 don't ask you to betray confidence. I only say help tne to come to a decision." voice, with its penetrating sweetness. 'sYqu are in trouble, and you need help and comfort." eyes were not opened sooner." "I5ut they were openert at l:»4t?' "Yes: just when tilings harl far that it was a siti to interfere Austin there was a pa use; and then the chaplain turned to Olive, and said, quietly, that they would co. ne BO ClaUd , ' V' "%sh ft i ■--* As he stood there, tall and of dignified bearing, she found courage to glance at him a second time. He was a man who looked as if he could stand alone without a single prop; and al- was passionately in love; and upon in; "Good-by. Miss Winfield," Adeline said, kindly. "\\'e will meet hero ufrain some time. 1 am very pi ad to have seen yon. Don't be sorry, please, for what has happened to-day.'' word I believe that the girl was as pood as gold, lie had the banns published in a churjh that was never .at- Two visitors were already in the studio when they went in. Miss Villiers was there, charmingly dressed, and she eame forward and held out her hand to Olive. In the background was a tall, weary young man, whose face was like an ivory cameo, perfectly cut and colorless. And the girl remembered afterwards that liis proud, unhappy look had chilled her for a moment. But she was a little ap'itated on her entrance, and answered the first words addressed to her with a bright blush, which reminded Aylstone of the day when he saw her wider the larches at Kew. -rnD: f3§—§§ hOCl.ti D• 'v»- £ Ji ■ thov gh he had a most benign face, it Tvore an expression of authority. While he was speaking1 Olive had dried lier last tears, and she answered him With a gentle frankness that touched him. tended by anyone he Knew, and everything was arranged between the pair. They were to steal off early on a Monday to bo married; but ou the preceding Sunday tlu; plot was discovered." Poor Olive, with old memories and new feelings whirling in her brain, was glad to find herself outside the house. Mr. Sidney wisely fore bore to talk to her just then; but he did not part with her without speaking reassuring words. She went through the. shop. and up to her little room like ono in a dream. Her recent grief seemed to be put far away in the background; Lucy's storv was more real to-day than her own. Yet through all her confusing thoughts she was conscious fcf a kind of tender compassion for Seaward Aylstone, and a distinct remembrance of his distressed look. It was always hard, she mused, for a true person to be mixed up with falseness and deceit; and he was surelv true. The strange man arose and walked over to the cabin and entered it. Three minutes later he reappeared, took one long, lingering look around him, and then struck a gait and threw mud over his head as he got out of town.—Detroit Free Press. r 'y*\ \ again "I am not going up into the studio, Seaward," 6aid the old lady, from the depths of the arm-chair. "The sight of many pictures wearies me, and I hate unfinished things. Don't keep Adeline there too long; I don't like to feel myself neglected. At my age I have a right to expect attention. But the young people of the present day are heartless —verv heartless. They do not consider the old." 'Flamingo Brown after awhile dried his tears in a measure, also in,niv new handkerchief, and then he told me his story. Possibly you too, gentle reader, may care to hear it. He said: '1 have had sorrow, but it is over," she said. "I came here because the place is so still and restful; and then I bffgan to cry unawares." "Ilow? "I can hardly tell. It was the housekceeper who had set- a watch, I think. Anyhow, Mrs. Villiers burst upon them in a storui of fury, and the companion was sent o'lt of the house that very day. asked the chaplain A B is supposed to lie a stone wall. J do not draw still life well, hut this is a wall, and O represents foot holes which enable the victim to go over tlio wall if his uails are good. "1 will help you. Adeline, as far as I can." he said, flushing, and looking at her with a gaze full of affection. "I will say. don't marry Claud until you are quite satisfied with him. I do not see why granny is to have her own way always. As for you. my dear, I like you all the better for saying the things that you have said to-day." Unrequited Affection. "You are looking tired." Fie was watching her narrowly, and read the fiigus of quiet patience in her beautiful yourig face. "Do you live far off?" "I was a temperance lecturer in Georgia all my early life. It was easy for me to be temperate, for I did not like rum, and so temiDeranee with me was uot a hardship, it was a good job. It was a pleasure and a profit. 1 can see now that I wasn't entitled to so much glory as 1 thought 1 waa. They are telling a story on a young man in Detroit—it doesn't make any difference who he is—which somehow has only recently got into the current gossip. It appears that during the past summer he put in a month at a lake resort in the northwest and there fell in love with a girl who didn't believe in reciprocity worth a cent. His persistence, however, was in noways abated by a little thing like that One day the girl fell off the dock into the lake, and the young mail beits. .rom-whatof an athlete and a swimmer jumped in a0l rescued her without much difficulty. She thought, of course, poor girl, that her lover would keep his word at all costs, but she leaned upon a broken reed. He did follow her, but it was only to bewail his own weakness and beg to be set free." Here is a Mississippi stile, as brought over by a well known Congo family uow living near Jackson: Her nervousness vanished when she turned to the pictures. Here were poets, soldiers, statesmen, whose names were well known in the history of our own times. Uere were women, fair and stately, whose beauty had won them a transitory fame; and children who 6iniled fresh and rory from the canvas. And there were other picture*, "Oh, tfb! I live with my uncle who is a bookseller close by. Last Sunday 1 came here for the first time. It was a surprise to come suddenly on this green spot; I had been longing for a sight of grass and trees, for I was born in the count ryD'  "You can always command attention in my house, grandmother," Seaward replied with grave courtesy. "Dear Seaward, what delightful things have 1 said'.'" The chaplain's contempt was too strong to be put into words; and Seaward went on: "I wonder you don't take another house," said granny, looking round ■with a disparaging air. "This is a horrid neighborhood. Why not move to Kensington?" "Something about Jack and .Jill. You think thai Jack would be a benighted fellow if he saw his Jill and did not do his best to get her for himself?" When the two cousins were, left alone in the studio, Adeline's face underwent a change. She softened a little, and sat down quietly in a low choir by the fire. „ The chaplain knew well enough that this shady nook had been a refuge to many who were "born in the country." lie had seen men and women come here to renew the youth of the spirit under these trees. There are few spots left now in the heart of London where old memories may live and grow. "He got his release, it seems, easily enough. The girl was as proud as an empress, too proud even to load him with reproaches. She let him go in silence, and then vanished out of his life forever. He docs not even know whether she is living or dead." —~ •J —  "Old associations are pleasant to me," he answered. "And after all, it does not matter where a bachelor lives, does it?" "I think he would be a cur if he did not." ti]' CD "Even supposing her to be a Jill oi low degree, Adeline?" "Seaward," she said, looking up at him as he stood leaning1 dejectedly against the chimney piece, "if you were to win that irirl and east her off I should hate you. 1 hope you will marry her: I hope von will prove that baseness does not run in our blood." "Now." ho said, as she stood dripping on the dock, "1 have saved your life and you must many me." "Not if he means to remain a bach1 dor," Mrs. Villiers said sternly. "You ought to tnarry. Seaward. Every year "Even supposing that," she answered, A B represents fence: C the stile, which is calculated only to keep adult stock ont. Small stock can pass in and out frueiy, bnt grown cows will have curvature of tho spine if they try it. firmly, "Adeline," he said with fervor, "yon are one of the best and most sensible There was a pause, a flame leaped up brightly, shining on the chaplain's thoughtful face, which looked sterner now than Aylstone had ever seen it before. When Mr. Sydney broke tho bush he spoke in a tone of deep indignation."Marry you?" she repeated in bewilderment. "Must I?" Then he talked to Olive of the ancient churchyard and its history; and of other things; and she listened and wondered a little at her own perfect unrestraint in women in tbe world." "It's as little as you could do," he whispered, putting out his hands to her. "She must have carricd away a de- » • • She gave him one look as he stood there all draggled and sloppy, and with a smothered shriek she plunged into the flood once more. CHAPTER XTTI. lightful impression of Claud and me," he muttered, gloomily. "I daresay she will be afraid ever to look at me again." A Chicago traveling man m tho sleeping car this morning was saying that he heard Sir Edwin Arnold read a few weeks ago. "I'd read his works off and on for Home years, and I thought 1 would like to hear him argue in public," sai l he. "WHO TRANQni-I.r IN I.IFE'S GREAT TASK FIEI.D WROUGHT." his presence. She would not have won- dered, perhaps, had she realized that "And you will let Miss Villiers marry her cousin without hearing a word of this story, Aylstone?" Olive was waiting, almost impatiently, for next Sunday. The little gray chapel, standing in its quiet garden, was a spiritual resting, place, and the words that hlie had heard there were living i:i Her inind. he had been directing people's lives for years, learning their griefs, and making himself fully acquainted with their hopes and fears and blunders. All sorts nnd conditions of men and women confided their affairs to him. lie could have told how Tom and Sue in the court had got into the habit of knocking each other alwut the head; and why Lord and Lady Ilightower ia Mayfair never ppoke a word nowadays, when they chanced to be left alone together. He "You can remove the impression if you take pains." Adeline replied. "And of course Mr. Sidney will help you. I like that man: he has made a study of humanity, and knows exactly bow to The next time she was rescued by a boy in a boat, and the young man was so mad he sent a bill to her father for a new suit of clothes.—Detroit Free Press. ■vj & "She came in one day quite gayly, and told me that she was engaged to Claud," Seaward replied. "I went to him, and urged him strongly to tell Adeline every thing. Hut he had given grandmother a solemn promise to say nothing. And so the engagement lias gone dawdling on; the man always depressed and conscience-stricken, and the girlpuzzled and dissatisfied!" "I suppose ho is a great big poet, but when it comes to speaking in public, give me Jennie O'Neil Potter. Sir Edwin hasn't got the technique that Potter has. He reads from the book, and just as he strikes an impassioned passage and his whiskers are tossed about with emotion he loses his place and says "Uinah" till he can get onto it again. With u n .ervc that is often born of deep feeling, she kept the secret of her newly found comfort. Not even to Samuel Wake did she speak of it. But Samuel had eyes to see and ears to hear; deal with it. If it had not been for him 1 should not easily have got a direct explanation to-day." Yankee Philosophy. FLAMINGO BKQWX'S STORY. On the East Boston side of the South ferry stood a man who had been walking all over the island in search of work. He was without a cent and of every passer by he asked money enough to pay hia ferry toll. Seaward sighed. shifted his position and "Alas! 1 had an enemy —a rival. Mr. Nye—a godless young man who liked to take wine at times, and yet withal was not intentionally bad. He seemed, however, to resent my earnest work in the temperance Held because, lie said, 1 knew nothing about intemperance except what 1 had read in books, and so oftentimes lie told me 1 ought to keep off the grass and talk about things upon which 1 was informed, if such a thing could be found through the want columns of the paper. and he saw that tlie look of weary pali;uee was passing from her face, and heard a hopeful ring in her voice again. "it ia like, on, so like!" "Claud must remember the morning when he brought Lucy Cromer here for me to make a study of her," ho said. "Grandmother had sent her out- shopping, and they contrived to meet. lie set the jessamine spray in her hair; it was his favorite flower, and he liked her to wear it. You see, Adeline, he counted on granny's real affection for the girl, he thought they might persuade her to forgive them if they were once married." possessed the rare gift of unlocking "But it ought not to go on. You know that?" Yet she had not used to suffer The young life, so soo") made desolate, was Btiil sad with the memories of promises unfulfilled. She was » "D inexperienced to look forward to new hopes and a new love. For her, she thought, there was only the lonely path homeward, planted thickly with tender recollections. Misunderstood and unloved, she learned to accept her fate without bitterness. ft rrr.s no small thing to have been lifted above her sorrow, and set upon the hill top, although she stood there alone. hearts, and such a gift is only held by , one who is a born director and spiritual "Yes; I have been hoping against, hope; trying to believe that a wrong thing would come right. At first I, thought that Adeline, bright and attractive as she is, would help Claud to. begin a new life and a new love. But I, have never been liippy about the mat-' ter; and I see plainly that Claud cannot forget." full of mystic meaning; angels watching on the summits of the everlasting hills; a man standing on the bank of a dark river and looking across to the other side, where a woman walked in solemn light. "Now that's no way to live. Sir Edwin can write out of sight, but some of his gestures on the stage are very tart. He is not in it with Putter at all, uiy boy. and he wets his thumb when he turns the leaves. No one paid any attention to him till he tackled a tall Yankee lumber dealer. "Ain't you got any money?" he asked. guide of men- Mr. Sidney had no mystical tendencies. His life was too busy; he took too intense an interest in the lives around him to have time for mystical thoughts, lie believed strongly in the helping power of human agency and had all kinds of questions referred to him by all kinds of persons. lie did not write books; he preferred to live in people's hearts rather than on the Aelves of their libraries. Even his sermons were rarely to be found in print, and in short he was not one of those men who desire to leave a great name behind them. To do his work thoroughly while he lived here; to lift others out of the slough of despond and lead them with a firm hand up to those delectable mountains where his own soul rejoiced in pure air, this was his daily task. . "Nary a cent, boss." "Well, my, friend, here's the toll; but it's been my experience with the world that it don't make much difference to a man which side of the ferry he's on if lie ain't got any money."—Boston Herald. •you ore jit to marry. seaward.* While she gazed the painter talked to her, explaining this and that, well pleased when she gained confidence enough to ask questions. Mr. Sidney stood a little apart and chatted with Adeline, while Ctuud Villiers, standing near his cousin, hardly spoke at alL "No one, mind you. ever wrote more stuff that ha:l thrill and grandeur in it than Sir Edwin, but some of his gestures oend the wrong way. Now when Potter gives that piece called 'How Salvator Won.' and comes on in jockey clothes, the house just howls. Nolxxly can help it. But Sir Edwin does not dress the part at all. He wears the same clothes in the 'Light of Asia' that he does as the Rajput nurse. Now that's no way to do with people that pay a dollar and a half to hear him. I say. He does not even take off his whiskers while he reads the "Rajput Nurse.' confirms you in your selfish solitary habits. I ran lind you a niee«girl ii"yen will trust my judgment." "We also loved the same sweet, sweet girl She waveied. She seemed to enjoy wavering. It gave her a good deal of attention and quiet summer evenings and buggy rides o'er the lea. "You have all behaved cruelly to Miss, Villiers," said the chaplain uncompromisingly. "If this story is hushed up before marriage it is sure to come out afterwards. And if I judge Adeline Villiers rightly she is a woman who would suffer acutely under the blow of such a disclosure. Besides this ill-used girl may reappear?" "She might have forgiven them; it was quite, possible. I have never once heard Lucy Cromer's name till to-dav. Tlie Dying Mud's Regret. "You shall introduce me to the the girl whenever ton please, irrandi? jther, and I will promise to think aboat her," he returned, with meekness. In a recent seruiou Mr. Savage told the story of an old minister on his deathbed. He lay with a faraway look on his face, and his son asked, "Father, what are you thinking about?" With a sigh he said. "1 am feeling sorry for some things as I look back over my past life." "Why, father, what have you done to regret? 1 do not know what you should feelisorry for." "Well," he said, and a pathetic, humorous smile came" over his face, "for one thing, I am feeling sorry that I have not been more patient with fools." —Boston Transcript Granny has kept the secret with wonderful craft. Go on. Seaward, and tell me all that you know." Seaward had led his visitor to the far end of the studio, and Adeline, near the lire, was still talking to the chaplain, when a faint cry from Olive startled them all. "In an nngnarded moment I tried to do up uiy rival by poisoning her heart and telling her of his broad and liberal views regarding the use of champagne for mechanical purposes. He heard about it. 1 might have knew that he would. But he only joked me about it and did not offer to fight, as 1 feared he would. He was uot of the fighting kind. He was going away soon, and so ho said we would part friendly. We would go up to Ella's and spend the evening and eat a watermelon with her before he went away, perhaps forever. These autumn tfnys, with the calm sunshine, seemed to partake of her newly-won peace On Saturday after- At'eline. whose eyes twinkled with amusement, set flown her empty eup, and made a sign to her cousin. He rose, and the two repaired to the studio. Seaward did tell her all that be knew. And when he had finished, she drew a long breath and rose from her seat. "I have thought of that," Seaward answered sadly. "And yet I fancied that she would not live long after Claud's desertion, ners was the kind of beauty that one always associates with early decay." "It is Lucy!" they heard her say. "You could not have painted this if you had not known her. It is Lucy Cromer!" "Seaward." she began when the door was shut, "I have n thousand things to say to you. Why are you not my brother. old boy? (iranny would nottlare to restrain our intercourse if you were. But sure 1 r she has (riven up her old suspicion about our pruiandering7" "1 don't think she suspects us of philandering." he replied- "But she doesn't like me. and she disapproves of your taking me into your confidence. Never mind her, Adeline. What Lh it that you want to say?'' "I don't want to see Claud any more." the said, quietly. "If I remain with granny, it must be understood that ho is not to come to the house. As to granny herself. I feel quite equal to the task of reducing her to submission. If you are not too much used up, Seaward, you may.come and .hear me announce mv intentions to her." With one impulse they moved to the spot where she was standing, and the chaplain saw that her gaze was fixed on that study of a head which Seaward had shown him two or three days ago Her face had grown pale with intense feeling; her clear eyes were slowly filling with tears. "My opiuiou is that we are too easily pleased with titled people here in this country. Sir Edwin Arnold is a good man and writes as good a poem as anyt)ody 1 know, but when he appears in public as a reader along side of such talent as you and Miss Potter, and at the same price. 1 say it is discriminating against our own industries." Before Olive left the old churchyard the chaplain had learned her simple history, and was quietly devising plans for her future good. She went back to the Wakes with a brighter face than she had worn for many a day. "Uncle," she said, "I have found a new friend; or, rather, he has found me. It is Mr. Sidnev." "Then she was very beautiful?" "Would you like to see her portrait?" said Aylstone. "I made a study of her head." 1 A Satisfactory Explanation. "We did eat watermelon. 1 am especially fond of watermelon. Georgians all like watermelons. 1 only remember eating the third piece of this special melon, and then of walking over to Ella's father, a man with a full head of whiskers of which he was very proud and which saved him eight dollars a year in neckties. I just dimly remember taking half a melon and shampooing his head, face and beard with it. Why 1 did it I know not. It was not liko me at all. ' fk JjfjL. I U I :{ bl F ' The chaplain assented, and Seaward led the way upstairs to the studio. Then he turned up the lamps, and went to a corner where two or three unframed pictures were leaning against the wall. But Seaward weakly owned that he would rather not be present at the scene, lie wanted to smoke a pipe in peace, and calm his mind. So Adeline went off alone. "It is like, oh, so like" she said. "It has brought her back to me, and she was my dearest friend. Only-while she lived her face was sadder than this. She did not look perfectly happy till she was dead." Possibly this is truo. Vet, working as wo do together in the great field of literature. and trying as best wo may to advance anil elevate the tastes and aspirations of mankind. I would hardly wish to criticise the methods or gestures of Sir Ed win. 1 know only too well how long it takes to get a good set of gestures JigtithPf. It cannot be done at once. Even when we do so, others may rob us ol them and fit them to other selections, going ahead of us and so making us appear later on, when we visit the same town, as plagiarists. "Claud will come home tomorrow," she went on, ";mCl granny has set her '.mind upon marrying ns out of hand. She says we have dawdled on as nrt en- Samuel looked at her with a smile of Mrs. Villiers was indeed reduced to submission that very evening. To do the old woman justice she had sent many an uneasy thought after Lucy Cromer. And when Adeline described the afternoon's experiences, anil told of Lucy's death, the shock was too great for granny. She astonished Miss Villiers by bursting into tears, and losing all her starch and buckram, so that Adeline v. as really touched and softenedinfinite content. "I have been waiting," he answered "I always- meant to put her into a group," he said. "I had an idea in my mind, but I never carried it out, and then she disappeared; and somehow I have never cared to look often at this.'* gaged couple long enough. For iny own part I have found the dawdling1 quite pleasant. We have mooned about, and looked ut houses and furniture, and talked vaguely of a far-olT future when we might possibly want su;h things. There is nothing like seeing one's promised laud in tl e distance; it i.; the near ▼iew that dC" troys the enchantment." | would blow into you life, but I did not i know what quarter it would come "I knew a fresh wind "Deadr" the word came from Claud Villiers i 'rom." They all turned and looked at him. lie stood grasping the back of a chair and gazing at Olive with an expression that almost terrilied her, it was so full of hopeless misery. CHAPTER XIV. BEAWARU AYI,S'I()NE AT nOSil. He turned the canvas to the light, and showed a pure delicate face, and a soft mans of golden hair, in which was a spray of jessamine. Ouly the head was finished; some filmy drapery, gathered loosely round the shoulders, was put in with a few careless touches. But it was a life-like countenance that looked back on the gazers with beautiful melancholy eyes and a faint smile. }V "I knew no more till the next d.iy. 1 woke up, with a sense of shame, and my head, which had always lx:fore been perfectly free from everything, pained me a good deal and seemed to jut out over my ears like a toadstool. "tou ai:e in trocri.e," said the quiet "There is no reason why I should not bring her to see pictures," said the chaplain. "You say you can count upon Miss Villiers?" Ponsonhy—You haven't added this up correctly, Alphonse. It should be $3.10 instead of $4.10. - VOICE "Where did she die?" he asked, bringing out his words in a strange, hoarse Toice. "How long ago?" poon, without saying a word to anyone, she took her way once more down the steep little street, and found the |ron gate unclosed. "But I don't quite understand you, Adeline," he was beginning, when she stopped him with a pretty, impatient gest ure. "Most certainly," Seaward answered. "Adeline is a comrade true and tried. Already she has seen Miss AY infield in the flower-shop, and does not wonder that I want to know more of her. There is not an atom of petty jealousy in Adeline; and—rare quality in a woman— she is always willinir that a man shall "At Eastmeon, a little village in Hampshire, just after harvest last year." "Never mind, granny," her gramL daughter said. "You cannot restore Lncy tolife;'bnt you can carefully refrain from meddling with other lives, in the future " Sir Edwin Arnold has always used me well, and though 1- did not stop at his house while 111 England, as 1 had already promised oflier K. C. B.'s and K. G.'s that I would take my trunk right to their places and stay, yet I always heard hiin well spoken of everywhere. Alphonse—Ah! so it ees. 1 do not understand 7.Q arithinetiqae in ze English. —HanDer's Bazar. "A policeman said that the hair of the dog would sometimes cure the bite, and so 1 took for the first time what is called a cocktail. It worked like magic. 1 took yet another. "Stupid old boy! How can you expect to understand a woman who doesn't understand herself? And it is not of myself that I am thinking, it is of Claud." Nearly thirty years have pone by since Charles Dickens wrote about the Savoy churchyard and tlie quiet precinct. "I think that on summer nights the dew fails here," lie said; "the only dew that is shed in all London, beyond the tear* of the homeless." And these very words may be spoken of this spot to-day, so green and fresh is the grass and so beautiful are the trees. The place is unchanged, and the familiar figure of the chaplain, known and loved by everybody, Is still constantly seen in his old haunts. The surroundings are altered; "the simple dwelling houses, with their white doorsteps and green blinds," have been swent away; but the coalies still "touch their sou'- westers to him as he glides alDout," ami the children's faces brighten at' his greeting. "I have not flattered her in the least," remarked Seaward, and then, without further comment, he carried the picture out of the light, and put it gently down in the corner once more. Only this time the face was not turned towards the wall. This was Olive's answer, spoken in a tremulous tone. Her eyes seemed to be questioning Claud; an instinct told her that he had been the cause of that mysterious grief which had shortened Lucy's life. A Mom lentous Oncstton. [to he c'DKT[Nrm.j I ill The Retort i'ourteoit*. "] neglected my temperance work and pave myself up to curing the bito by means of the hair of the same dojf. When 1 f*o by the house now Ella's children laugh at me and jeer me, and their who' invited me to the watermelon debauch, docs not chide them. Fontenolle when ninety years old passed before Mme. Helve tins without perceiving her. "Ah!" cried the lady, We welcome the English author on onr shores nt nil times, and trivo him a howty indorsement, but we ask him as an Offset to this to throw the chest well out, stand •erect,- hold up the chin instead of the audience, and refrain from wetting the thumb while turning over the leaves. Seaward looked at her thoughtfully. She had bright gray eyes shaded with black lashes, and delicate, but rather irregular features. To-dtiy her face had the brilliancy that often comes of anxiety; the clear pallor of the cheeks was tinted with vivid rose. She was prettier, perhaps, than usual, but curiously unlike the cool charming woman of the world he had always known. be happy in his own way I wish I was qwit pinoss " Poor fjirl! sure about licr hap- V Kfspk 2P \ * 3 \ As in a vision she saw once more the little room, filled with the glow of an autumn sunset, and the jessamine flowers. Once more she beheld the light on Lucy's face, and heard the dying voice speaking of forgiveness. "that is your gallantry, then—to pass before me without eyen looking at me!" "If I had looked at yon, madame," replied the old beau, :-I could never have parsed you at all."—Argonaut. The chaplain and th tlined together and were painter had now talking1 They went downstairs and parted somewhat gravely in the hall. • quietly over a bright tir The weather "On Saturday nfternoon," the chaplaic *aid, "I will bring Jlios Winfield." "What was in that watermelon 1 do not know, but ii was good. In Georgia they have a way of threading a string through the oorl of a watermelon as it gl ow* o'i the vines. Then they put the end of the string into a bottle of spirits. This they call 'feciling' a watermelon. The melon knows when it has got enough, and so does not become boisterous; but say. if you think it does not act o-i the cerebral tissues of a fresh yrDnng boiler like I was. yon do not know so much as one would think to see yon with your hat off. was clear and cold; heavy curtains kept out all possible draughts: deep chairs invited rcsDt; the warm 1 if lit fell oh paneled walls, painted by Seawaru'a owu hand. Ilere were golden wheatears mingled with scarlet p -ppies and ox-eyed daisies; 'here wa« a massy bough, la'en with blossom; ajjliinpse of sliming water and -ns'iea filled another panel: tlx* next showed a fragment of snowy -TOoUlikDu. it was a pericct room to epend u v. inter evening iri. Tt flowed vrttV ri-h colors, and abounded in small arrangements for He went out into the London night, and Seward returned to the fireside and meditated, until the warmth and quietness drew him away into dreamlaud. In sleep he saw the fair face hovering near another, whose richer, darker beauty was always in ids waking thoughts. And it seemed to him that the golden-haired woman looked at him with mute entreaty ar. if praying that the brown-eyed girl mi-lit have a happier fate than her own. Shortly after her majesty printed her "Life and Services of Juini iir.jwu it occurred to me that brief excerpts from uuM wurK won if 1 ao wen tor readings m this country, so 1 wrote to her in care of her manager a kinir ! • r what she .would take lor fifty choice cktes in America, to read jointly with me, each ot us selecting Lorn our own works. My idea was that my own selections' would, as it were, give a solid and literary character to the entertainment, while her own wonld brighten up the evening with mirth and srladness. "Forgive, if you would find peace," it said. "Forgive if you would have your wounds lien led, and feel the soft touch of Christ's finger on your sore heart." A Poor Excuso, Etc First Boy (threateningly) - till I 1: -tch ver arter school. -Just wait "I am not romantic," she said, speak'ing in a calmer tone, "I do not expect jtoo rrmeh from a man. I5ut I can't help thinking thrDt Claud has nothing to give. At first, 1 admired that gentle lancour of liis, and fancied that it was a ti.ask, worn gracefully to hide deep feeling. I believe now that it oniy hides an emutr lieart." And then, as if that voice were prompting her, she spoke quite ealmly with her steadfast gaze still fixed on Claud Villiers. Second Boy (advancing defiantly)— Why don't ve take me now? First Boy (backing off)—Me luind is ta me lessons now.—Good News. "Lucy had suffered great wrongs She did not tell me what they were, but at the last she forgave them all She v, lis very happy when she !ied. I never saw anyone who enjoyed such perfc t. per.ee." A Japanese For. The churchyard r*C*s quiet and deserted when Olive ventured in and "fit down to rest upon a seat under the trees. She wns in perfect harmony wi'h th* tranquil lights and shadows; and the grave beauty of the old gray walls, on which the record of centuries was written so legibly, yit without any sign C.,f neglect or decay. The chupcl, in its veuorable strength, stood in the midst of all the active life of to-d*y, The Japanese Ik ..eve In a species of fox which, if it lives to be fifty years old with But having phased by a dog, trans forms himself into a beautiful woman. This sr.me fox. if he lives to the age of 100 years, gains some new powers, among which is that of becou.iug a wouderful Miss Twitter—1 want to ask you something. Mr Pcvn. • 'mrC 'birthing) vou won't think me too lorward? He woke up suddenly with two lines of an old song rin ging in his ears, and and then he that the man who wrote that song was resting somewhere under the green grass of the tDld Savoy churchyard. lie went up to his room with a firm . tep and a resolute heart, singing George Y\ ither'a well- Seawn-'i si :11 regarded her attentively, and was silent. ease and comfort ••Write to me while 1 am at Dwight. 1 shall be lonely, no doubt. Send me some of your pieces. 1 shall be glad to read most anything. Address Flamingo Brown, Dwight, Ills." Steele t'eiui Have uo hesitation, Mis Twitter. Miss Twitter—1 am going to have aoine handkerchiefs embroidered, and J/ was wondering if it would be safe to have the initials of my maiden name placed on them,—Truth, i ' nr* - n — ■ "I bar" never been really In love with C laud." she continued. "but if he j hud tried be conl'1 have made m«» love him. He is the kind of man who attracts women, witl his pale aristocratio "She will soon be married, I suppose? Mrs. Viiliers told me that the time was aL-io;Di. fixed," said the chaplain. Thc unhappy man who had listened to tb"so wonls turned suddenly awny Olive had smitten him as Nathan smote David. For a few seconds th*»re was silence; then the door opened and shut, and they knew that Claud was gonw. Whether Her majpstv did not understand the meaning of the word "excerpt." and therefore cruelly misjudged my meaning, or was uuaole to obtain a chaperon in time, 1 do not know, but •uffics it tv suv that the roval fungus is v. i/.ard. When he reaches the age of 1,000 years he becomes a celestial fox with nln«- golden colored tails, and has the power of going to heaven whenever he Auoaes.—St. Louis Republic. "Granny wants to fix everything," | cried Seaward, in an angry tone. ' "Nothing is deSaitaly settled yet, He then called his dog and without other luggage got off at Dwight, Ills,