Evening Star Newspaper, February 6, 1892, Page 7

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. ©, SATURDAY. FEBRUARY 6, 1892—SIXTEEN PAGES. THE FALKLAND ISLES. The Two Hundred Island Archipelago Claimed by England. THE PEOPL 3 LONESOME: SESS Strange Vegetable Productions in @ Climate se Cold That Trees Cannot Grow—The Sea Lion at Home—A Penguin City Visited ‘Talks With Nantucket Whalers. From The Star's Traveling Commissioner. Pout Staxney, East FaLkiax. HANKS TO THE courtesy of the English governor, a steam yacht ed at the dis- was p posal of our party, whose captain had instrue- tions to aid usin “ ploring the island But that would be =< rather large undertak- ing. as there more than two b¥indredin the group; so we have con- tented ourselves with eruising around the two iargest islands Visiting their few settlements, which are all gaining » general 1dea of life in this little world, lost amid a waste of stormy waters. ; The total population of the archipelago is only about 2.000, mo men and Argenti the largest islands, has an area of 3, square miles, vet it contains only three insi niticant hamiets besides Port Stanle; ore Ao f ople living on widely separated sheep a Titre are no roads onany of the islands, runs. an bat they are criss-crossed in all directions hy horse trails. for hers everybody goes on horse- back on journe made by sea. Every well-to-< owns his yacht as the citizens of other countries keep their car- Finges. There is also a steam launch that reg- bolax glebari—which has been so slow in grow- ing, and the condensation from constant branch- ing so great, that it has become almost as hard as the rock it resembles—so hard that it is diffi- cult to ents shaving from its surface with a sharp knife. Examine closely a lump of bal- sam bog and you will find it covered with tiny hexagonal markings like the calices of a weath- ered piece of coral. These are the circlets of leaves and leaf buds, terminating a multitude of stems, which for centuries have gone on growing with extreme slowness—ever since the now enormous plant started out a single shoot from a tiny reed. When the sun shines warm ives forth a pleasaut aromatic odor, and the eliowish astringent gum that exudes from the top is prized by the shepherdsas a vulnerary. most of the islands a skrab abounds h it bears ig water, v . Inthe Falklands, sin al! antaretic America,celery grows in wild luxuriance. there was not a single settler on d, though it is 80 miles long by 25 ated from its twin island ¥ by a narrow sound. It is more hilly than any of the other islands, being crossed by a d range whose highest peak attains an 4.270 feet. Just twenty-five years ent, having learned n acd some of the best nds im the world, issued @ procla- mation offering great inducements to coloniste, he result that in ten months’ time every acre of available land was occupied, and for several years past the annual export of finest wool from this one island has averaged 1,500 pounds. FORLORS APPEARANCE OF WEST FALKLAND. ‘The general appearance of West Falkland is about as forlorn as can well be imagined— tracts of somber moorland, unrelieved by shrub, traversed by rocky ridges and limited by a low coast upon which surf rages with continual violence. Nothing ean be more dismal than the view from any hilltop—black bog and moorland, far as the eye can reach, intermixed by innumerable pools of greenish brown water. A peculixr feature of the geology of the country is that it abounds in streams, not of water, but of stones, whik pear to flow down the hilisides. These streams are often, a quarter of a mile wide and the stones vary from one to five fect cube. As for genuine rivers, there are none of any con- quence on the islands, San Carlos, on Eust Patkland, being the largest—about thirty miles loug and nowhere navigable. Fortunately for grazing g) ulariy plies the sound between the two main islands while the produce brig of the “Falk- land [sland Sheep-farming Company” is pa- tronized by the poorer classes. A SHEEP FARMER'S CARRYALL. Our first objective point was P alittle north of Stanley. on I where the French fon the menton the a elago, in 176 though many times destroyed by ment, as various countries enfo claims to possession, rema ernment until n few vear moved to Stanley. The big lan nearly cut in two by a deep sound on either side (Chaiseul and Ereaton). which lave its northern nected on r ed thei ed the seat of gov- ago, when it wns re- mixture of and mors t beds and tussock grave, J + small streams and aT DARWIN. be most important vill: on the island is Port Parwin, on Choi: sound, a station of the jand Island Com- : It is peopled e by Scotch shep- J school ma the lives of the villagers to the minutest detail, temporal and spiritus Though more than tant from Patag: islands we hree hundred miles dis- ¢ once figenous to the pbits. There are aid in favor of the ‘That itis re- rat two things te be elim: of this le biy uniform hilly winds, wi growing an maturity, prevent like that eare nosnakes her ort; no toads, nor spid nor fleas, nor any other object. ture, winged or nor rep- flies wlin Trees would p cultivated w planted and t for the ete itn " if we There are none upon any of the is except a kind of box, two or three feet high, to be fou: localities and the on much-boasted for existe which is str There is a spec grows as hig said to assist the z the b ial and b most Falklanders worth trying margin of the partially shel- eean grain be fully & the ripened or vege of perfect ber @ great va carpet the g: TAKS. ole archipelago was ‘@ most curious om alittle dis- alms. Itis de red roots spri ks six or seven Caitle and d its tatte Afew years covered with te ntting. | excel- | vol-like root crowns have eet, B avor, irresistible to all omn < herbivorous ere It thr: best on shores exposed to ocean's sra and a great pity it is that ina few years moi not a root of it will be left anywhere on the islands, No wonder it is being rapid considering the that here find past Pigs that were br the early colonists ha: whether or not the ix! the buman species, Jess. There are lent fodde: exterminated, ow increasin + were occupied now they are. co 10 at lewst 100.000 wild horse: sprung from stoc imported. Yet sheep raising is t o Pelago, it having p the rearing districts are too sw said to be not less islands. 7 the ging twelve pounds uy 1 re no wild an substiunce injurious to the ff favorable con- to kill the | of burr or any an advantage, while - ail fresh w ance | to the shee) w years | ago the Fall aiopted a} Process of be tallow and the successful resait Other profitable industry. THE BALSAM Boo. Before leaving the subject of indigenous! growths [want to tel! you about the “balsam | bog,” @ vegetable wonder which I have never | heard of in any other part of the world. A) Prraching the low in many of # nis you think they ar ered all over eto ten feet the blocks are seen growing | to | from fi covered with henens and so cold a country there is a great deai of peat, which everybody burns the year round for fuel. Some of the peat beds are of great size and depth, very dense and bituminous at the bottom, and the supply is imexhaustible. The settlers claim that the freedom from timber is an advantage rathef than an objection, because the land requires no clearing except from the stones, and the latter make excellent fencing and building material. The most interesting village of West Falk- land is Port Egmont, where the first British colony was founded (in 1765),after Commodore ‘on bad wrested the islands from Spain. Its defense and chief ornament is a large tim- house, which made in England Years ago and brought out in pieces, and Would be about as useful as an egg shell against modern implements of warfare. To pin an old Egmonter down to an evening's yarning about his “hair-breadth ‘seapes” in whaling vad sealing is one of the most interesting ex- perieuces to be met with in this part of the world. At one time the Falkland Island trade im whale and seal oil and sealskins was of great ue, but it is now almost at an end, for those ¢ sea animals frequent thése shores in ly diminished numbers. Seal hunters pursue ther adventurous calling on much the same plan a8 miners in our own far west used to yo prospecting on “grub stake”"—that is, they hire a boat by agreeing to pay its owner certain share of what they may bring back, employ « crew on the same terms, select one of their number for captain, obtain their provisions from some accommodating dealer as they did the oat and start off on a sure or four months’ expedition among the wds. Whaling in these waters is now prin- lly followed by Americans—Nantucketers sud others—who have their headquarters on ew Island, on the western archipelago. I have heard many wild and startling incidents con- nected with their lives, but the hardy seamen have proved their intelligence and attention to the scientific side of their business by the varied information they have sent to the U. 8. hydro- graphic department. TEE SEA LIONS. The most terrifying-looking beasts Iever met in their natural state are the sea lions that abound along the Falkland coasts—ferocious fellows, large as young bullocks, with long busby hair on the head and breast. ‘The face 1s short and broad, like that of a bulldog, but snfinitely more savage; the rough mane bangs thick around the ears and the mouth is armed ih two long. crooked teeth in either jaw. The ugiy creature's tail is divided into ‘two large thppers, each flipper having five nails, ad by the aid of these, which he moves side- ssisted by his two front flippers, he ables along the rocks as fast as a man can walk, but not for long, being soon “winded” by his own excessive fatness. The blubber spread over the whole body six or eight inches thick and makes excellent lamp oil. ‘The fleah eaten by many, and I can testify to the fact that the liver of the young ones is @ morceau sit for anepicure. The lioness is considerably smatler than the male, and though quite fierce defense of her cubs. having been known to off human legs and arms when intezfered te with, is at other times gentle and timid. That enormous species of seal otherwise known as the trunk nose” iscalied by the Faik- match, and, though of aston- a thirty feet long, is an inof- trong point,” like that many human beings, is its #tomach—a ear- inous substance hard as bone, resisting edge of a knife. Egg hunting during its on (commencing in Uctover) is great fun, se sure to be attended with brilliant sue- 4 millions of penguin eggs and those other wild birds are sold in the Falkland ‘kets atau average rate of 10 cents the dozen. VISITING A PENGUIN crTx. During our recent cruise we went ashore on a sequestered island to view what the captain called a “penguin city.” Sure enough, the who.e island, comprising perhaps fifty acres, J off in regular squares by streets run z at right atgles, the lines straight and sa surveyor could have drawn them. As well known, penguins spend their lives on the water except during the breeding season, when they are obliged to seek the shore. You will hardly believe me, but it is nevertheless true, that the birds not only lay out their city in blocks, but pick up all the loose stones tll the whole place is smooth asa board floor. Then ¥ take possession in couples, each pair se- ecling ahome site—not to build a nest, but merely to pre-empt a particular spot on the ‘one egg, and only one, and dur- ing the time of incubation the male bird brings her food trom the sea or sits on the egg awaule himself if she wants to go out to tke a swim. tut im this case, as in many others, not “its own exceeding great rewar the lady penguins grow so fatand slices under the ood care of their taithful husbands that they are the more eagerly hunted at that partieular seasoa. The old birds are too tough and fishy to be relished by man or beast, but the tender young matrons are m great demand, both for their flesh and oil. Even the eggs have an oily and fishy Havorand taste as heus eggs might if cooked in kerosene. The penguin is by no means either a hand- ome or graceful creature. He has wings like but they are aitogether too 1th, though ‘they may assist him somewnat in waddling over the ground. When in the water he has no use for wings, because hisbroa:t feet, webbed ike those of aduek, propel himrapidly. There are several varieties of them, the largest, called the “emperor penguin,” w from twenty-five to forty pounds. It is funny to see a colony of these ungainly birds marching up and down their streets like sol- diers, all the time standing erect and maintain- ing an air of great dignity and importance. Faxstz B. Wamp. — WHY WOMEN MAY PEOPOSE it in Scotland During Margaret's Reign. From the Chicawo Tribune. Colin Shackleford said: “Some one asked me the other day what was the origin of women proposing marriage during aleap year. I looked tt up, and while it may not be new to all I dare say it will interest many. In the year 1288 a tatute was published by the Seotch parliament, of which the following is a copy, and is, to my mind, the origin of the custom or idea, {do not know that it is « custom or ever was: **it ig ordaint that during the reign of Her ist Blessit Majestic Margaret, ilke maiden, latee of baith high and low estate, shal! has luberty towpeak to the man se likes. Gif he refuses to take her to be his wy!, he shale be mulet iz the sam of ane hundredity pounds or jess, as his estait may bec, except an alwais gif hecan make it appear that he is betrothit to ames te dees = - hall bg eye “After the dear largaret passed away the women became on for their _ their crevices, where Just has collected pre- isely as it would in rifts of rock. Each bowl der-lise mass is a single urmbelliferous plant — privileges, and to appease them another act of rhament them the privilege Fourth year.” bas abhi, THE CHANGED HOME. ALMOST A FAIRY STORY. WRITTEN FOR TSE EVENING STAR BY JAMES PAYN AND ALBERT LEONARD. CHAPTER L ANY TOUCHING RE- flections have been made upon the above \\subject. Travelers have been described as re- turning to their be- loved birthplace and finding it almost un- recognizable. The mountains which once surrounded it have be- cone little hills; the river on which it looked has dwindled to a trout stream (without fish); the mension of their fathers (about which they have boasted so in- ordinately to the impressed stranger) has shrunk to an eight-roomed house, by no means in good repair. Or, again, the absentee may have returned to it after twenty years of penal servitude, shortened by good conduct (jad: cious attention to the chaplain) to fifteen; he finds the cottage, once covered with roses. overgrown with briara; the porch where he used to sit in the summer time entranced with “San- ford and Merton” while the little sister commit- ted to i le condition; the windows not only “‘wide open to the air” and the faces of his family “‘no longer there.” but broken or patched with brown paper; the bed room from Which he nsed to descend at night by the water pipe (to steal apples) is a wreck; where “the garden smiled” there is neither tree nor shrub, but only a notice—This house to let,” which @taws a smile from every passer-by, so hope- Jess is the announcement. In some case the wanderer returns after a saccessful career in the city or in the United States with the intention of purchasing his hereditary estate and finds the ivy-covered castle transformed into a modern mansion with all the latest improvements. His blue blood boils at the sight of the alterations made by tho Manchester manufacturer. ‘The well-fitting doors, the plate-giass windows, the hot water Pipes laid throughout the house, offend his Still feudal susceptibilities and he takes the next train to London and resides there for the rest of his disappointed life. All these examples of the changed home are favorites with writers of biography, of travel and especially of fiction, but none of them at all resemble, or I would not have mentined them, the very remarkable alteration that took place within twelve hours in Laurel Cottage, the resideuce of the Rev. Cuthbert Plumley, M. A., perpetual curate of Blondel Part The subject would seem a slight one even for the foundation of a short story, but indeed it not only affected the reverend gentleman him- self in the most surprising manner, but sug- gested at the time of its occurrence nothing Jess than supernatural intervention. ‘The home of another divine, John Wesley, was, wo know, the scene of certain analogous phenomena. ‘The furniture was shifted by unseen hands, though with as much noise and carelessness as thongh the brokers were in the house (bres ing things), but there was no actual change in the interior of the dwelling* itself, while in the case of “The Laurels” this transformation was effected in the compietest manner, though in perfect silence. A perpetual curate, as everybody knows, is a curate who has no chance of being anything else. He may preach like Liddon—or Spur- geon; his visite to the poor may be constant und effectual, but they will never be visitations —which are only paid by bishops; he may eschew leisure (though he is the idol of his Parish) and live most laborious days, but he will never get a living. ‘This was the state of affairs with the Kev. Cuthbert Plumley. I knew him at Cambridge, where we thought him (and quite justly) asaintand a model. He never touched a card or a cue; he never went out with “the drag” (indeed, if he ever mounted a horse in bis life it was a rocking one); he was never “gated” for being late at hall or chapel; he had not @ single interview with the dean; his only relaxation was a “‘consti- tutional” over the Gogmagog hills (moun- tains in the neighborhood); he read hard and became a scholar of his college, but failed at the fellowship examination. He was not clever, but even more modest about his attain- ments than was necessary. Hoe had no “push” about him of any kind, and he had no money, but he was as “good as gold.” When he took his degree, though I say it who should not say it since Iwas a year his junior, he did not leave in the whole university » better man behind im. I shall never forget the morning he dropped in upon me tosay good-bye, “Mis handsome,re- fined face was aglow with lofty hopes and bright anticipations, for he was to be taLen into business by his future father-in-law, a wealthy man, I had been told, but a qucer ‘tn, and as T stood there with Plamiey's lung, soft white hand grasped in mine, looking into his clear, honest blue eyes, I said to myself: “Well, Plumley, old fellow, if you ever make a hit in the commercial line I ‘shall be as much sur- prised as if Thad made one in the ministry. Why you would scorn to takea receipt for anything! In your eyes it would be casting reflections upon a man’s honesty, and as for selling w thing for 500 per cent more than it was worth, why, that would put a knife in your heart. You ‘Would call your father-in-law aside and protest against it as little better than highway robbery. No, my dear Plumnley, don’t go into the commercial hne; you were not made for that sort of thing.” But, of course, I only thought all thin I wouldn’t have hurt his feelings half as quickly as 1 would my best girl's. Ob, pshaw! that man was too good for this world, and as I put my big cricketer's hand on his ‘shoulder in that last good-bye. it may have been my imagina- tion, but I thought I conld feel a wing sprout- ing there; possibly it was the buckle of bis braces. Weil, be got away at Inst and I missed him, too, although I didn't dare confess it, for it would have made a laughing, stock of ‘me, 1'b6 idea of taking a fancy 10 such a milksop as Plumley. Cuthbert Plumley had been engaged to a Miss Copeutt—Miss Jane Copeutt—and if ever @ betrothai had been planned in heaven that one had.” Infact, I inclined to the belief that they had been’ predestined and designed for each other before the foundations of the world were laid. There is no use in my trying to describe Jane Copeutt for you. I shall only make a bungle of it, for her beauty was largel; what the sentimentalists call “spiritual.” Not that she hadn't the prettiest brown hair, the smoothest skin and one of the trimmest figures that I had ever seen, but there was something in her smile, in the’ gentle look of her big bazet eyes, in the soft music of her voice, that brought every heart within Lez reach.’ But bless you, “she was more than satisficd with Plamley. She knew that he was better than refined gold, that his gentleness, his constaney, his devotion. would fill her life as the golden sunlight pours into a lovely valley, chasing ont the gloom and the chili and the damp. It was @ genuine mutual adoration'society—everything Cuthbert said was well suid, everything Juno did was well doue. “Well,” suid { to myself, “if that marriage doesn't prove a happy one ‘then all signs will fail, but all signs do sometimes fail, in a drought, forexample, then why should they not fail ina’ freshet of happiness? But I hoped that they wouldn’t fail in this particular in- stance, and when I received Plumley’s letter inviting me to run out to Hull and be present at his marriage Iwas more than pleased. I was delighted. I felt that Cuthbert was a brother of mine and I was more willing to love Jane asa sister. I felt that such a woman's friendship would do me good. I was so tired of the ordinary woman, the girl of today, with her fluffy hair pulled down over her eyes like a Shetland pony and her eyes wide opened lest something might escape her. Now, Jane's hair lay on her forehead like burnished walnut, and I lonzed to see Cuth- bert Plumley’s long, slender white hands stroke it. Ithsd been made for just such hands to stroke. To think of fooling around that fluffy bunch of hair which the gitl of today carries on her forehead! Why, I would as soon think of stirring upa hornets nest or poking my finger in the crest of a cockatoo. So far I have left “Old Copeutt” to your im- agination. I call him “Old Copeutt,” and it was strange, too, for he wasn’t an old man,pos- sibly eight and fifty, but he had such an. oid look about him. He had suffered his whole lite from chronic neuralgia and it had screwed his face into forty wrinkles that wouldn't hav been there otherwise, and thea, too, his ski from the continuous application of “remedi had been fairly tanned until it now looked as brown as the mohogany which he dealt in, for Barzillai Copeutt was a dealer in “hard woods,” and can ata seein, ton, and chen.) teongns of these hard woods and Cuthbert. Piumley’ soft heart and soft hands 1 trembled, but i hoped for the best; that was all I could do. Copeatt loved Jane, and, loving Jane, he could not do less than t:y hard to Le fond But it was affection under com- yon will admit. long ago and son-in-law handling “samples” with his glovos on. What would the trade say of Old Copeutt’s son-in-lay But Jane loved him, Jano was satisfied and that settled it, although the old gentleman for the life of him conld not under- stand why Jane preferred this milk and water manto such a broad-shouldered, rollicking. handsome fellow as Ned Hargreaves, who would inherit a coo, half million, if a penny, and who had always been soft on Jane, and had even of- fered bimself. AsThave told you, the day was sct for the marriage, whe: one of the biggest hard-wood concerns in Hull went down with a crash— completely wiped ont of existence, and, as ter- rible ill-luck would have it, old Copcutt was on their paper for £20,000. It was awful to think of. Here was an old merchant, honest as he was stern-visaged, now threatened with ruin by the recklessness of friends in the trad What was to be done? Go down with the Never! Jane must give up Plumley and take Ned Hiargreaves. With that union assured old Copeutt knew that he could get all the credit he needed, and not only weather the storm but come out on top of the hoap, the richest con- cern in hard woods in all Hull, It was a prize worth trying for. Yes, Cuthbert Plumley must be thrown overboard. CHAPTER IL It is strange what wonderful rosutts the love of moncy can work in « man’s nature, and in a woman's, too, for that matter. Now, up to this moment, Old Copeutt had not been a particu- larly hard-hearted man. His looks had been the only hard thing about him, but the world in general and Jane in particular had bad an idea that he was rather a tender and sympa- thetic character, barring always his looks— these were strongly against him. But his whole being underwent « transformation, and I doubt that if in all his store houses there was a stick of oak, teak or lignum vite quite ae dense, solid and thoroughly impenetrable as was h heart twenty-four hours after the news of this failure. He went to Jane with as dry an eye and as steadya voice asif he were merely dickering with a custemer about the price of an extra large mahogany log. “Jane,” said he, “you've always been a good girl—a ‘Very good girl—and I know that you will see the necessity of doing as I ask in thi matter. You will not want to see your old father dishonored, the busmess of a quarter | ofa century go to the dogs, poverty stare us in the face, when by accepting Mr. Hargreaves as your intended husband my credit will at once be placed upon a firm basis and I will slip into the splendid position made vacant by this failure, and you yourseli will acquire a ial station that any'lady in the and might Jane had to rub her eyes to persuade herself that it really was her father talking to her. Her suffering was the keener in that it wa: tearless. She d hard, but she couldn’ weep. It was very strange. Her only thought was what would Cuthbert do? Sie knew how he leaned upon her; she knew what a womanish sort of a man he was. Would it not kill him? It might, and yet was not her first duty to the author of her being? Suppose she should re- fuse to obey and take Cuthbert, she knew her father’s proud spirit; he never would survive the blow and ig death would be upon her soul. Oh, it Tul, awful, whichever way you looked at 3 t expectin bert until the afternoon Jane hid herself away in her room to pray for counsel, and above all to try and weep, but by some whim of fate Plumley walked into the drawing room the momeut after Jane had left it, Old Copentt swept down upon the poor boy like a withering biast. have no moncy for you,” he blurted out, “not a penny. I'm beggared. How do you expect to support my daughter?” Plumiey reeled as if a fit of vertigo Ladcome upon him. His mouth fell open, his arms dropped, he gasped ho was a pitiful object to look upon. He had always been poor, very poor. An old aunt had scraped together enongh to pay his way through Cambridge, but it had been a hard rub. The word money had always frighténed him—it was a word that sent cold shivers down his spine. His fingers had always trembled when he handled a sovereign or folded a crisp new £5 note. He had lived his whole life in absolute terror of money—how to get it, where to get it—this had been his constant and anx- ious thought, and Old Copcutt’s words now fairly burnt into his bi Jane heard her father's violent attack upon Plumley and rushed down stairs to defend him, to comfort him, to break the awful force of the blow, to implore him to be merciful and strong, but the sight of his daughter gave Old Copeutt new strength, added just another de- gree of hardness to his heart, and commanding jane to be silent he calmly but most emphat- ically ordered Mr. Plumley to leave the house. e young man made an attempt to speak, but the awful shadow of old Copeutt's broad leathery palm silenced him. He turned toward Jane and tried to pronounce her name, but the Word would not leave bis lips, par- alyzed, venseless, he turned and left the room and then house. If he had had a thousand tongues and the volubility of a fishwife he could not have made any reply to old Copcutt’s ‘The demon money stalked after him all the way to his lodging, where afew hours after- ward came a letter from Jane, full of gentle words and comforting phrases, imploring him to bear up bravely, that when her father quieted down somewhat she hoped that she would be able to bring him to saner and more reasonable views. 5 But Cuthbert Plumley saw, felt that he was beaten, beaten by that demon gold, and he su rendered like aman. Yes, ho ioved Jane, bat God torbid that he should seek to drag her down to is miserable level of toil aud drudg- ery. No, he would give her To him it “give up” ail his life. ‘This was but xive up” added to the long list left him? Should he sit down and fold his hands in blank despair? Oh, no; there was too much sunshine in his soul for that. He could keep on loving Jane—old Cop- eutt couldn't stop that. And so, with his na- ture untouched by the poison of disappomt- ment, unsoured by the gall of unrequited love, he did the best thing under the circumstances —he went into the church. From curacy to curacy he was carried by the ecclesiastical wave, taking the oversight of his flocks, but never shearing them. When his rectors died the sheep always bleated that this excellent man oughit to be his successor, but the patron had always a nephew or cousi and would, be said, have been worse than a1 infidel to have neglected their claims. At last, when Cuthbert Piumley had reached mid- dle age, and his scanty locks were prematurely tinged with gray, a bishop taking note of his faithful service, or pity upon his frequent changes, gave him the Perpetual Curacy of Blondel’ Parva, worth nearly two hundred curato was musical and might have solaced his logely hours with such an instru- ment, but to repair it would have cost money that "was useful clsewhere—to ps who scarcely knew what a piano was. However, he would put Colenso’s Arithmetic under the ‘ley of the chair and explain to Dr. Winter's frien pat it was not iocomotive. The doctor had prepared quite « luxurious dinner, and the guest, one Otto Marks, a hairy and epectacied German, who spoke the tongue of England (though like a native of some other Place), was quite delightful. He had all the talk to “himself, wich the other two were far from gradging him. He was a metaphysician (which of itseif would have been enough for them), but had an original theory of his own that not only was nothing as it seemed to be but its very contrary. What looked black was | really white, « circumstance which, if. they could only have been convinced of it, would have made the prospects both of the parish doctor and the perpetual curate exceedingly encouraging. Cuthbert Piumley had never bad such an evening, and when it was over scarecly knew whether he stood on his head or his heels. When the doctor said “Good night” he replied “but I'm afraid it's good morning.” Where- upon Mr. Marks observed in his guttural tongue “That proves my theory.” ‘The curate, how- ever, was used to late hours, because people die between one and two a. m., when the forces of nature are weakest, and generally sent for him to see them do it. CHAPTER UL It wes a beautiful summer night and thanks to a full moon almost as bright as day; even “The Laurels,” though so modest # dwelling, looked beautiful, bathed in its silver giow, as the curate drew near to it. Deep as was his abstraction—for he was thinking of the dis- course of the metaphysician, which, when in- telligible, had interested him—be could not help noting a changed look about the little garden and lawn.’ It seemed to that things had been cleared —_up, tidied up, as it were. He — missed several heaps of rubbish, grow. to be familiar sights, and he thought that the rustic table and benches in the oid summer house had a strangely unfamiliar look about them, Once he halted and asked himself whether he had not taken the wroug path. Bah! such nonsense! As wellsupposea flock of sheep to get into the wrong fol a drove of cattle to wander into auother barn yard, or even a flock of fowls to mistake their roosting place. By this time he had reached the veranda and as be stepped upon itagain a strange sensation, haif of wonder, half of doubt, came over him: Surely he had ‘mistaken the house, for al the old rickety chairs were gone and there stood a row of new ones in wicker, with graceful backs and curled arms, and a handsome round table also in wicker, such as is used for outdoor teas or fetes. And the old door mat, worn and rag- ged, with its familiar legend, “Welcome, “almost scratched away by the hob nails of the farmer folk, was gone, toa, with all the rest, and in its stead a brand new one, with a uew “Welcome” in red woven into it, lay there before tie door and seemed to invite him to step upon it and cleanse his soles of dust. Bat Cuthbert Piumley passed his hand over his forehead nervously'and then put out Lis foot as if he expected that that mat was but a figment of his imagination and would mel? into nothingness when lis toe touched it, but no, it | never budged. Stillhe seemed to ‘think that he had betier not step upon it, so he stepped over it, and then proceeded with a somewhat iy hand to wilock the door ax softly as ie, sous Lot to disturb his old Louw: keeper.’ He was now inside the house, and as Le stood there in the bail waiting tor his eyes to become accustomed to the dark another curious thing impressed itself upon his senses, or rather upon his sense of smeli—that le but untuistakable odor of poverty fas gone, and the air was hexvy with the oder of flowers and with that subtie perfume which bewrays the presence of a refined and cultured woman in a Louse. Collecting bis scattered senses he realized that the hallway was covered with some softrug or carpet. The next move he makes he bumps «gainsta bigh-backed chair and upon putting out his band to shield his face from injury his fingers come into contact with the pins of a hatraci and then the measured tick, tick, of a cloc sends ® creeping seusation’ over his skin. here was he? None of these things had becn in his hallway as he passed through on his way to Dr. Winter's. Just then the moon shone out in fuller splendor and a tall black fig- ure seemed to meet him face to face. He caught bis breath and took astep backward. It was naught but a tall clock, or had the fig ure by some exercise of the black art been sud- denly transformed into a clock. ‘uen the awful thought fiashed through his mind that Winter's black-bearded guest w none other than Dr. Faustus himeclt, that this master of necromancy had put a spell upon him, tha: his senses were nvtray, that he was not himeelf. At that instant the tall stock chimed out the hour of two in soft and silvery tones. Plumley was no coward, mild and gentle as he was, he searcely knew what the word fear is, so plucking up resolution he felt his way along to the entrance of the sitting room. ‘To his more than amazement the ill-fitting door was framed with a line of light. “Good heavens,” be thought, housekeeper be sitting up to late hours?” Halting for a moment, he listens, but no sound save the ticking of the tll clock dis- turbs the awful stillness of the place. With trembling hand he opeus the door a few inches and glances in, and as he does soa smothered ery of mingled dread aud wonder escapes from his lips. There sits Jane Copeutt in an elegant e: chair; her head is slightly bowed; ing by the light of a superb piano lump, which sendy its radiance down upon her fair head and face with w: nderful effect. Spellbound by the beautiful vision Plumley stands gazing upon it «ith parted lips and bated breath lest it should suddenly fade away. She is more beautiful, more radiant, more angeli ever; she is the same dear, gracious, sweet-faced woman that he lost years and yeurs ago. But the room, too—that is all changed; all things are new and strange. His homo is changed. ‘The old arm chair is gone and in its place a new one, very handsome, with a reading desk fixed into one arm, with candlesticks in it. The sofa is also quite new, though its covering was of the same patiern. "The walls are hung with fine engravings of various sacred subjects; the carpet is a new one and very rich and soft. And there isa new piiuo, foo. It stands there open, asif some one had just left it. It is of the cottage kind, but exquifitely finished. ‘Then certain words of the German sage occur- red tohim: ‘There are some rare conditions ‘can the old rate me for my a year— e could only have got the farmers to pay it. Thcy did not dislike him, far from it, but they disliked the disburse- ment on principle, and their pastor was far too tender-hearted aman to press the victims of agricultural depression. ‘He bad no money, but then, as be naively observed, he didn't want it, He took care of his two suits of clothes, rarely drank anything more costly thau bitter beer and smoked the most economical tobacco after his homely dinner. It is true in course of years the fur- niture of his little cottage began to look time- worn like himself, but as he never “enter- tained” except those who were no critics of such matters, his poor, that offended no eye but his own. ‘here was no resident squire in the village, and he did wuat he could for them. Ife was tall and thin and with # face so gentle in its expression that me thought it girlish; but he was only femi- nine in his unselfishness. His life indeed was a series of self-sacrifices, which might have moved even himself to pity had be been aware of it. Bat he had no more notion of bie being a source of comfort and happiness to the world than a dead rose- leaf has of ite own aroma. He might have recognized perhaps here aud there the grati- tude of his fellow-creatures, only he never looked for it. Such was his modesty that he even doubted whether he pleased his Master, though he knew that he was not hard to please. One day @ strange thing happened; the curate was asked out to dinner. It was only at the village doctor's, a bachelor like himself, who lived in just such another cottage as “The Laurels” (oniy a tritie better furnished because. he had not set up housekeeping so long), and the thought of this unwonted dissipation quite excited him. Some peéple dine ont five times a week (including, one is sorry to say, Sun- days) and at last (I aim told) get @ little tired of it; but Mr. Plumley” fed never experienced any fatigue of that nature. Moreover, Dr. Winter bad asked him to meet astrauger from Loudon full of novel ideas, which was very kind of the doctor, but also a little embarrassing, since the curate was con- of having nothing to offer such a guest in the way of exchange. ‘here had been no novel ideas in Blondel Parva since Farmer Giles tried gas, manufactured it on the prem- ises and blew the roof of his house off. » ‘he curate, arrayed in his best suit, but with a shirt frayed bosh at the wrist and ¢ollar, feit almost like a young lady going to her first ball. Wit also troubled him was the very seedy ap- pearance of his furniture, for it would be his of the human mind in which the great central fact becomes recognizable, and we see that everything is exactly its contrary.” He felt that he was now in ono of these conditions. Noth- ing could be more contrary to his ordinary furniture than ite present appearance. But instend of being plewed at this discovery, it terrified the good curate exceedingly, for it struck him that the ouly *condition” under which such things were possible was that of insanity; that he liad in fac: gone out of his mind. Softly closing the door, he stood fora mo- ment listening to the slow tick, tick of the tall clock and then, as.he groped his Way out of the house, he whispered over and over to himself: “Y've lost my reason! I've lost my reason !” Once he halted, thinking he would go up- stairs and arouse the old housekeeper. But no! He was now fairly frightened; he did not dare go upstairs for fear he should find some other transformation had been effected. It was clear ee | the strange idea came to him that, if madness it was, he might as weil get all the comfort out of this sudden and incomprehensible loss of reason. He would turn back, make bis way, around to the sitting room window and take one more look at that lovely vision, which, pray God, had not flow: ; there at the angelic visitent to his humble home, the soft light still resting upon her brown bair, her fair hands pursuing their silent labor just as he had seen her through the half-opened door a few moments before. Here ho stood. for a long while, so it scemed to him, drinking in the lovely vision like the freed ‘captive drinks in the air, the sunshine and the soft breeze so long unfelt 'by his brow. Suddenly turning away Plumley broke almost into a ran along the path leading to Dr. Winter's, but the cool night air strengthens and steadics him. He turns back. He cannot bring himself to leave the house which shelters that head so dear to him, even if i only be a vision. Around and around “The Laurels” he wan- but every time he comes opposite to the window of the sitting room some strange influ ence keeps him from approaching it again. Hi feet seem nailed to the ground every time he attempts to step out of the path. ‘This new and mysterious sensation, apparently the re- sult of some hypnotic influence, again varns his thoughts to the black-bearded and spec tacled German, whose mufiied guttural tones Ting in his ears, and whose nervous, explosive idly back to bim erman professor an adept in y Has he not set a spell upon me? ‘Am I not a subject of his, moved by his will, swayed by his thoughts, influenced by his mind?” Sach were the questions which Plumley now ropounded to himself. At last he seemed to ave hit upon the explanation of the mystery. way, sleep was impossible, and, be- sides, he had locked himself out of his house. He would return to Dr. Winter's and consult As he turned again toward the path le ding Winter house the tall clock, real or phantom. i y chimed the hour of 3 uttered an explana- tion of horror and broke into a run. A deep sense of relief came over him as he caught a limpse through the trees of a light in Dr. sitting room. Of all persons on the earth's surface doctors are the most careless of their own health, though so fuli of good advice and prudence for other people. Even the German, after his fourteeath pipe, had gone to Led, but the doctor was still smoking and read- inga work upon the digestive orgaus with an appendix against tobacco. At the curate’s gentle tap on the pane he ed the door. What, you back, Plumley; what is the matter with you!” His wained eye that the other's visit hada perso In as few words as possible the curate g out what had occurred. ‘My impression is he ended, * ave lost my wits, Winter. “Lhave heard a good many people say that of you,” was the other's quict reply. who gives all his goods to feed the poor aud never thinks of bimseif bas of cour: a screw loose somewhere. It’s natural enough. Still” —seeing how the poor eucate’s face feli— that is not’ my opinion, You are only monomaniac, m av fellow. And as to what has so disturbed you I can explain it in two minutes ihe ve who say these things of you have a very expect. for your character, and almost the whole parish have clubbed together to show it, “The Laurcls’ have Leen newly furnished for you by a gen- eral subscription. They thougi.t it would be a nice surprise for you to get the things put in while re froin home, and as their only chance of tins was my little dinner tonight, they took advantage of the opportunity. promised to keep you here tili_ mi our metaphysical friend retained you two hours later." But, doctor,” gasped Piumley,” you have not told me all"or rathet I've ot toid you i—the vision—— is uot a vision at all, my dear Plumics,” remarked Dr. Winter, ‘calmly, “but genuine reality. That lady seated in your work room is Jane Copeutt, come back ‘to you after all these years to undo the wrong she wrought. Sit down and jet me tel! you all about it.” Plum.ey attempted to obey, but he dropped heavily into the easy chair which Dr. Winter had drawa up for him. He had fainted. Win- tor knew that this was the best thing for him to doand leisurely applied some restorative. = as the curate came to himself he handed °7 married Hargreaves. She fell ill, very ill, and her life was saved by some power stronger than medicine. The physician in charge then as- sured her father that her health would never again be robust and that to consummate the marriage would simply mean her death. Mean- time Copeutt’s business affairs # turn for the better, but as it was ne: to take Jane to the south of France he resolyed to sell out his business and devote himself to her entirely. It was several years before Jane had recovered her health completely, aud then it fell to her jot to pay back to her father some of the tender cure she had received from him. For ten long years she devoted her hfe to him, his good angeland his comforter. Copeuttdied ayearago and six months ago Jane wrote to me. She is a fellow conspirator of mine. It will soon be daybreak, and then if yoa feel like it we'll walk over to ‘The Laurels’ and take breakfast with its future mistress.” ———+o+___ TO GET KID OF TRAMPS, Schemes Formed for Providing for Them Work Which They Might Refuse. From the Religio-Philosophical Journal. Mr. Hel rark, N. J., has proposed, it is stated, to found seven colonies in seven states of the Union for people who are old and unemployed and for tramps. The reforma- tion of tramps is to be the main feature of the scheme. Mr. Hellar seems to think that tramps are such because they cannot get work. In refutation of this the Popular Science Monthly remark: “During the past summer workers have been called for all over the United States to gather in this year's bountiful harvest. No tramp could extend his travels to twenty miles outside any large city without com- ing across’ farmers who would be glad to give him $15 or $20 a month and board for faithful work.” Douglas Morrison, an Engiish prison official and author of a work on “Crime and Its Causes,” gives the number of vagrants who will work when it is offered to them as about 2 per cent, and experiments by M. Monod of the ministry of the interior of France have led him to the conclusion that the number in France is about 2° per cent. The following statement by M. Monod is suggesti and instructive: According to M. Monod a benevolently dis- posed French citizen wished to know the amount of truth contained in the complaints of sturdy beggars that they were willing to work they could get anything to do or any one to employ them. This gentleman entered into negotiations with some merchants and manu- facturers and induced them to offer work at the rate of 4 franes (80 conte) aday to every person prescnting himself furnished with @ let- ter of recommendation from him. In eight months 727 sturdy beggars came under his no- tice, all complaining that they had no work. Each of them was asked to come the following day to receive a letter which would enable him to got employment at 4 francs a day in an in- Austria! establishment. if More than one-half (415) never came for the letter; a good many others (138) returned for the letter but never presented it, Others who that he was the victim of a mental delusion. The reflection that would have occurred to nine meu out of ten under such circumstan that he had drunk too much wine at dinner, never entered into the curate’s mind. He ha never exceeded the bound of moderation in his life, nnd on the present occasion distinctly re- membered that he had taken but three giasses of wine. He had, however, been ther ex- cited by the German's discourse, which might copes for everything was possible save ‘eet which he eaw around bim—have had the effect b Ri pceeerne He might even have mis- en somebody else’s house for hisown. An untenable supposition, indeed, since he had let himself in with his own key and there was no other house in the neighborhood that resem- bled it. Moreover, he knew the interior of a! the houses in Plondel Parva and none had fur- niture in the least like what he saw around him or nearly so new. ‘Still, in the extremity of his amazement and having no other explanation of the phenome- non, he actually stepped off the veranda and walked out upon the lawn with intont to re- ‘d i$ from the outside to make sure of its he closed the door, forget laced the key on that new table in the hallway and thereby shut him- self out. Inconvenient as was the incident he was not altogether sorry that it had med. He had no desire to re-enter his chan; jome. it seoined to him that that way madness lay, if oo SS him. a es muything superna’ taken place, 1° ever even thought of ent mind was too cultured, his soul was too pure to admit the duty to show hospitality in his turn to the in- teligent stranger, and what would he think of au easy chair that had lost one of its castors, a sofa with a broken back and a carpet-full pitfalls? It was true there wasa there wero several keys nd locked ‘supposition—familiar as it isin some circlee— test Se spirit world conceras tteelt with knocks a did present their letter worked half a day, de. man led 2 francs and were seen no more. A few worked a whole day and then disappeared. In short, out of the whole 727 only eighteen were found at work at the end of the third day. "As aresult of this experiment M. Monod con. cludes that not more thanone able-bodied Gur in forty is inclined to work even if he Offered a fair remuneration for his services. presen reitase dis Read the Paper, Though Not » Subscriber. From the Chattanooxa Times. A well-known gentleman in this city moved into a house that had been previously occupied by another gentleman who was a subscriber to one of the evening papers, The carrier of course continued leaving the paper for a of a year, never having been nolified of the chanie. ‘The collector recently went around to collect for the paper, the bill being made out in the name of the gentleman who had sub- scribed. When the cellector presented the Dill the gentleman of the’house said: “Whys my dear sir, that man bas not lived here for over a year. You are at the wrong house.” “Well, has not the earrier been leaving you a copy of ‘the paper ail the time?” Pee, sir. But Idid not subscribe, and 1 told the boy to quit leaving it But he’ never did ba! THEY MET ON THE TRAIN. Nelther of Them Had Changed Very Much With the Passing of Time. From the Detroit Free Press. A plain, middle-aged woman had been sit- ting in the passenger coach at my left hand for the last thirty miles, when aman about fifty years of age and plainly dressed got on ata smali station, He had taken the seat abead of me, but happening to look around and observe the woman he jumped up and went over to her with “Wall, by gosh! but who'd e thought it! Howdy do, Mary? “Howdy do, Samuel,” she replied as they shook hands and he sat down beside ber.” “Wha' ye goin’?” he asked. “Down home to Ellendale. “Livin’ down thar’, be ye “Yes Tdaknowd pose I've changed a” “Wall, Loften think about ye, and I hope you'll do well. I had to git a divorce from you because we couldn't agree, but I don’t lay it up you a8 some would. Married agin, i'm “Yes. ' “Party decent sort 0° feller?” “He's a good man—a very good man.” ‘fim glad on it. Good provider, is be?” “Yes. in’ you should burn plenty of dry wood e two kerosene lamps goin’ at once?” “Fes. “Wall, he must be purty fair. D. you to run in debt when you want to?” haven't wanted to yet. “Shoo! You have changed since we got divorced; you alius wanted to be runfin’ in debt, you kuow. That and you're bein’ so mighty independent brought on most of our quarrels, “If 4 wanted to run in debt I never got the chance,” she curtly replied. har’ wa'n’t no need to. he ‘low “Now, Mary “And Idon t believe in a wife creeping and crawling to a husband.” rhar’ you go—same sass as you used to give “If you don’t like it you needn't stay here. you are the same old skintiint and fault tinder. “What! What! Some folks blamed me fur gittin’ a divorce, but I guess they wouldn't if they couid hear you talk.” “I don't care Whether they would or not!” “Wall, by gum!" suid the old man as he sat down beside m back to three years ago. Seems as if we was jawin’ about who'd git up and build the fire of 4 Jinuary mornin’, and that she was sassin’ me afte: same old fashion and declarin’ she'd lay there till the bed sunk through into the cellar sore she'd build a tire for me or any other man on earth HACKMEN LAYING A HOODOO, Their Efforts Handicapped by the Last Man From the San Francisco Chronicle. The drivers of backs, coupes and gurneys who make their stand around Union Square have been much worried of late because of the dullness of trade. It began along about New Year, when it rained night after night, and When the down-town hacks had all they could do, while the drivers around Union Square bad nothing to do but ereep inside their vebicies and go to sleep to the lullaby of the rain on the roof. Finally the Jebus concluded there was a hoo- doo on the whole outfit, and « convention of drivers was called to determine waysand means by which this hoodoo could “*be laid. A dozen plans were proposed, but one after another was declared unteasibie until’ at last some one suggested funeral procession uj Market street, with a countermarch on 6! street, and then return to the Stand, after whiclf ali hands would adjourn to a —. ing grocery and drink the health of de- parted. Blankets The suggestion met with favor. were hastily jerked from horses and the line was formed. It was agreed that any driver who on the trip should notice a passing hail from = trian should be “bound, and bucked” upon his return to the stan Slowly and with all the solemnity hackmen assume when attending a funeral twelve empty hacks, coupes and gurneys were driven in down’s nm to Market street. Fate, ever perverse, drivers from the Hardly had the line got in motion when the telephone in the box on the corner began to ring. No driver heeded at, but when street was reached and every second man on the street yelled, “Hi, there! I say, you, cabby "the situation became well nigh’ unen~ arable. With Spartan firmness the drivers turned a deat ear to all requests for a cab and made the journey over the route laid out, but just as the line was turning into 6th from Market street one of the hackmen who belonged on the stand and had been fortunate enough to secure load came along on his homeward journey. He recognized his comrades, and, without asking a question, turned his horse's head and fell in behind. ‘Thus it was that thirteen vehicles retarned to the stand, and each driver, after taking his siand and ‘blanketing his horse or horses, walked up front preparatory toa visit to the neighb Joon. hoodoo’ v8,” said the leader, « laid, dead sure. Why, didn’t ye hear ‘em yell- ing for cabs as we went along? You'll see, biz'll hum from this on,” ‘es it will,” growled a fellow who had been at the tail end of theline and bud just come up front. “We wuz all right till this cuss drove in, and he made thirteen of us.” Vat!” came from a dozen throats at once, and then without another question they fell upon that thirteenth man and smote him hip and thigh and sent him away bleeding in many places, ‘There were no drinks, but twelve mournful men crawled into their’ vehicles and went to sleep, satisfied that patient waiting was the ouly thing that would conquer a houdoo. ———_<e- THE DEADLY UPAS TREE, Its Polsonous Quality Keally Existe—The Similar Effects of Hops, From the Medical Bulletin. The upas, or antiuris toxicaria of Java, has been long known as the deadly tree to many of the popular writers, which is, unf , not a grave mistake, as credited by some. The tree, a large one, belonging to the same order as the hop, contains certain elements, consist- This plant, when simply approached, regard- less of handling, but aggravated by disturbing the foliage or exposure to night influences, is capable of emitting an acriform matter which very unpleasantly affects many of those who proach it, causing a formidable eruption cree theskin snd miore marked. tumaiteues of the deoper layers of 7 A GUITAR’S TALE. Broken, It Reveals a Message from a Leng Dead Convict. From the Cinginnat! Commercial Garette, Mise Pessie W. Harris, daughter of a musie dealer in Troy, N. Y.., oke a guitar which Ler father had given her some time ago. It was a peculiar looking but fino-toned instrament, which had belonged to ber dead grandfather, nd no one knows how it came into his possee= . Mr. Harris, in examining the piecer to 5, found the following strange inscription written on the wood 1890,—This guitar is put together today by a man who has been in prison oleven years under a sentence of life, ® prisoner who whoever it may be lask them to know and publish this fact. A man may be a state prisoner for years and Yetget square with his enemies. I have en- joyed mauy pleasant mo prison, tor amon. Chamberlain stood with bis hi his revolver Christ~ mas, 1879. Ob, how contemptible he look the poor cur. Yes, he is a cur the mong! breed. Rets of 'Neb.. cripple nine year caused by negicet of prison omciala, Read backward the signature forms the name “Ben Foster.” ricesialiihipciniaiadeans A Story With « Moral, From the Detroit Free Press. He kuocked at the back door of « suburbaa house and the cook opened it, He was « sini ter-looking fellow and she held on to the dour. Lady of the house in?” be inquired graffiy. Xo,” tremabled the cook. “Man of the house here?” “No.” one of the people in?” Xone but me,” and sbe tried to shut the door. “Aw, come off.” he growled, setting his foot against it; “I guess I'll come in and bavee good eat. ‘Step lively now er I'll grab you. She let go of the door and the a ae in and fell into the arms of a big policeman, who was courting the cook contrary to orders. “ ose He Who Digs « Ditch for Another May Fall in Himself. From Fiisgenie Biatter