Evening Star Newspaper, April 2, 1892, Page 7

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D.C. SATURDAY, APRIL, 2, 1892-SIXTEEN PAGES. A FLIRTA TION. WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY WILL CARLETON, (Copyrighted. } CHAPTER L NE OP THE HOTTEST days that New Jersey had known that summer closed at last with the celebration of « singu- larly gorgeous sunset. A soothing coolness from the neighboring hills was brought by a cozy, whispering little breeze that seemed to encourage all nature in drawing a long breath. The tired little eountry world in which Badger McPherson was pilgrim and a stranger, became more lively and aggressive; sounds of mirth and fellity came to him from green farms along the white ribbon of a wagon road, on which, afoot and alone, he was journeying. Once ina while strains of yoeal music, their roughness softened by distance. came from some one of the little valleys or hill tops and made him homesick. The young man had a long, narrow cylinder under his arm, about the length of a Winches- ter rifle. But it was not gun, for it had no Jock, stock or barrel. Neither was it a telescope, although the young gentleman had a scholarly look. It wi not « roll of manuscript with Gigantic pages. It wae parcel of maps. Badger MePherson was a fine-looking, well- limbed young theologue from Minceton. He ‘Was sfill'a junior, but had studied enough to compel biz: to brace up his health with a great deal of jaleties and resolution. He was am- ious and felt that he had undeveloped tal- ents, if not genius, that would burst forth into an are of oratorial electric lights immediately after his ordination. His primary idea was, of course, to succeed in winning souls from the Wrath to come, but he had no objection to the wsion of ‘more of less earthly affection. In fact, in the pictures that he painted of his future ministrations there werea good many worldly i i. He had de- quites long list of earthly pleasures on tie Program tablets of his mind, not incompati- bie, he thought, with h’s divine mission. One of these plensures was that of flirting: innocent social amenities, he called it. He had a best gicl down in Wilmington, Del, and loved her very dearly: but they could not be together all the while: he did not know exactly when they would be able to marry; and, being more than usually tive, why should be not make himself agreeable to the other sex, be thought. Badger McPherson was, greatly to his con- stant chagrin, poor; he had nothing but his life, and even that was mortgaged. He was making his way through college with borrowed money, secured from a half philanthropic money lender, with an insurance policy on himself. ‘ There were several other students in the col- lege besides Badger McPherson who had none too much spending money; and some, not so weedy, who wished @ summer : and a slight ‘busi lark, idition of money to their purses, anized, at the beginning of cholastic Canvassing Club.” devastating army of students, h the country armed with maps of the United States, made, according to the publisher und the general agent, with a that toprgraph- minutencss and complet. jeal science had never dreamed of before. erciel troops marched in parallel ‘These co lines through several counties of the state, eap- Unstspeeting farmers theygoul tured what and organi 1 of the subse tion lust into “clubs adent ri & commission for every victim he made. The young gentleman walking down this icular road had not today done a good ten jours’ work. although expending so much elo- quence aud erudition that he felt on the verge of mental bankruptcy. People did not want maps just then; the resident population seemed quite content to stay mentally, as well as physi- cally, within their present environment with- nd territories. times why he A benevolent looking iy had offered him bis dinner if he would ord of wood. Once he had been taken amp and ordered to “move on there, when he tried to enter the gateway toa rural uabob’s mansion, He began to have sowe more little babyish thrills of homesick- really lighted up the old farm house as it had not been for some timo before. The petserpent of flirtation, however, soon managed to creep into this happy little domes; tic garden. ‘The eldest daughter was about eighteen, a charmingly half-incomprehensible kind of young lady and one that constantlyput poor Badger on his mettle. She fascinated him in a way that caused him to almost pity his‘-best girl” down at Wilmington, although at heart he was faithful enough. Her eyes contained an expression of combined recklessness and pathos that he did not remember having found before. Her laugh was musical, but possessed the least tinge of bitternesx—that touch or shade which makes some girls’ merriment so iy charming. He found him-elf im amild sort of flirtation—a fit of false-falling-in-love— J frenzy that was delightful while it tantalizing. It was bis imagination that ‘ag at work (or play) rather than his heart: but in an intense mann ch as he had never used before in « flirtation, although something of an artist in these affairs of the outer p- proaches to the heart. It seemed perfectly natural to find himself at last standing on the veranda alone with her, communicating the names of the different stars in sight, fancying he saw them all reflected in her eyes, and men- tioning that fact, with a slight confirmatory pressure of her hand, which he had managed somehow to borrow for a few moments. “Oh, you are probably like all the rest of your icrrible sex,” she purred, softly, with that bitter-sweet laugh, which puzzled whi thrilled him. “You flatter us poor girls get us to liking you. and then forget every: thing you have said, and us, too, as soon 98 We are out of sight.” What could poor Padger do, he thought, but give her band au affirmative little pressure, and state his firm intention never, never to forget ber, in tones whose soft touch upon the eu at least first cousin to tenderness? t is easy enough to say you will never forget any one, you know,” insisted the young maiden, changing the stars reflected in her eyes to falling ones. ‘But when it comes to really doing anything for her—sacrificing, you know—why, then, your whole race is faithless- nesa itsel ‘This innocent little verbal trap caught poor Badger completely. He aserted that she w: eruélly mistaken in him, that be would be will- ing to do anything be could for ber in the world, even at the risk of his life, and she must surely let him know, whenever he might be of ¥ service whatever. Which I certalniy will,” she replied, m a strangely sweet tone anda very elight pressure of the hand—so delioate that he was almost in doubt whether it were real or imaginary. And soon afterward they parted, with a very con- genial and rather lingering good night. CHAPTER IL It was about 11:30 and Badger was in the neat room where he had been billeted writing, not to his best girl in Wilmington, Del., a8 be had intended, but to one of his more confidential college chums. “I'm staying ina daisy place tonight,” he had just said; “fine old farm house —people cordial and well bred—and have met here one of the divinest rural maidens you ever saw. Tom. I have never before found such a singularjcombine of keenness, simplicity and loveliness. She is deep, but the depths are clear as the unsullied latent waves of a placid sylvan lake.” (He had borrowed from imself a figure that was in one of his note- I don’t want you to join, your fate with mine in holy matrimony; 1 want you to tako moto another young man.” , ‘The opportunity for doing this dear child gocd still remained, but it must be said that Badger’s interest in the matter suddenly tained a decline in spite of himself and the whole affair became tedious aud almost dis- gusting. He tried hard not to make an exhibit of this fact, but the quick intuition of the girl understood and half pitied him for it. He tried to smile, but bis smile was ail made land and existed entireiy in the lower regions of his countenance; the eyes, which everybody finds it at times hard to control, did not join in the facial festivity, but had a fecling-disappointed- in-spite-of-yourselt lock. “You see, Lcou:dn't help it,” she murmured, looking at ‘Mc¥herson pettingly und half pi ingly. ““I met him years ago and—loved him at first—and—love him more and more, longer I kvow him—just as any one would you—I am sure—just as your sweetheart does, you know, Probably. Don’t you see?” Badger replied that he saw and tried hard to whole matter in way not uncompli- tary to himself, still with a feeling that his vanity bad received a curiously hard blow. books, entitled “Oruaments for future sermons ghen ine hurry.”) “If youcould only sce her, ‘omn"” — ‘There was a dainty little tap at the door. The young man hurriedly donned a coat, which he «i thrown off for ease, and, to his great sar- prise, admitted the young lady he had been writing about only a few instants betore. d with defiant dashes of feeling, ito bow these people would stand it bould hear of iim as the most popular pulpit orator of the laud. He had reeured their addresses, one from another, as went along, and vowed to some time send them ali tracts and sermons (of his own com- Position, of course.) until they trembied for an undesirable eternal futare—produced partly by indifference to unknown theological students aud partly by ignorance of the map of the United States. As the sun went inexorably out of view he began to wonder in what house he should stay ali wight, or if he should have to sleep in some uninteresting barn, with the permission of the horses, mice and insects within it, or in one of the rough, iuprovised bed chambers of a straw stack. H+ had been told by several well-to-do members of the Farmers’ Alliance that they were not in the lod house business that year; that they didnt tnd keeping boarders | Profitable; that there was a neat Little tavern «few miles further on, &e., &c. But his purse was light and his heels growing heavier and heavier, and he determined at last to make a most desperate effort to assist in getting back some of the money jail out on a house roof. He finally saw a bandsome old farm bouse on a grove-sheltered bill just abead of him, and determined to+leep in that abode if human in- enuity would obtain the desired permission. je bid his sample case of maps in a very ob- acure recess of a covered bridge and went with & refined boldness up to the hospitable-looking door of his chosen shelter for the night. A handsome, aristocratic-looking old mastiff lay on the broad piazza near the steps. This singular cur had none of the standard accom- Plishments of ordinary bucolic dogs, which are to howl wildly at unoffending people passing the house and to worry every casual visitor into temporary nervous prostration. “This dog knows that I don't belong to his race, mused Hadger. “He recognizes a gentleman when he secs one.” The fine old animal did noteven rise; he twisted a friendly, intelligent eye up toward the young topographical mis- jood. evening, sir; 1 will of smelling of and nipping at your heels, as it is you. You'll find the peo- ple of tne house just inside,” gave a civil wag aud abalfto his tsil aud composed himset again to canine reminiscences. “ taking a pedestrian tour, have been stopped here to see if’ you could put me up for the night.” This little historical romance Badger recite: to the courtly old g. Heman who came to the door, and in a manner ‘hat Lord Chesterfield would, under the cir- cumstances, have found no’ particular fault with. It surprised Badger to see how ‘luent and magactic he really was with no maps to excumber him. “Certainiy, you can stay, sir,” replied the id gentleman, with a glance at the good- looking young’ mau, and a confiding air that ost the young man some feclings of mild re- morse, wher be thought of the different recep- tion he ‘aight meet, if the covered bridge could ran in and say a word or two. “Certainly, sir. Your name, please?” The guy student presented one of his cards, which be fortunately had with him, labeled “Mr. Badger McPherson, class —, Minceton University,” and from that ume was an hon- ored guest in a very fetching domestic circle. The family was large, but orderly and re- fined; the essence of good rules, without their substance, appeared to magnetize everything. Ut was a great piece of luck, this falling in with @ first-class family, anc its congeniahty rested | him more tham he couid tell even himself. He wished there was a relay of such families all the way along the line be was to travel. But this seemed impons! 1 was the first evening of the kind he had found in the whole trip. ‘The courtly old gentlewan who bad met him atthe door had a harmonious, ladylike wife anitwosons and three daugliters, evidently acquired somewhat late in his prime: and with a ratuer bold flight of the imagination for a young theologue Badger had the glimpse of a feeling that he would like to possess just such @ family (with a city twist on it) when he bad captured the world by Lis pulpit eloquence and ‘was pausing a little to take spiritual and physi- cal breath. ‘The supper being over, there was a miniature informal party in the cozy but spacious sitting room, ip which the young thcole: shone | Driliidatly and beeame auoub!s He told several exhilarating Ke Stones, of which he was himsel! the balf-admuitted bero: “You are very much surprised,” said this gitl. ina low, mystery voice, making very pretty picture of herself as she stood grace- fully outlined against the dark wall, with the lamp light shining full upon her. And, indeed, Badger, who fancied he had upon his person & rule never to be taken off guard at anything, | Was somewhat startled and blushed, in spite of several consecutive efforts to the contrary, “All the people are in their ‘little beds’ but she continued, with an expansion of sim- plicity that gave the good young man an ai- most fatherly feeling toward ber. “Nobody can know I am here, uniess—unless—(with « very slight installment of the bitter-sweet Iwugh) you choose to tell them. Iknew you would be ap, for students are always decress- ing the oil products of the country while other people dream. You said, a little while since, that [was to let you know when you could serve me. I told you I would. Well, I have come to let you know. Badger had recovered bis rule never-to-be- surprised from the pit into which it had tem- porarily fallen and waited calmly for further information, though with s considerably accel- erated movement of the heart wy “I thought you didn’t mean it, you know,” continued the young lady, looking at him gravely aud steadfastly. “But 1 got to think- ing afterward aud decided that you did. I will tell you what I want in a very few words, and you ean do it for me ensily—I want you to elope with me.” What does the girl joodness! mercy! meandi’ mused poor Badger. He lost his rele, this time, completely never-to-be-surprised, and unreservedly, and admitted i himself. rr ees “Yo! surprise me, very, very, very much,” he said, in a hoarse whisper. “What te eche world can you mean? Why. hore you have known me only four or tive hours und now want to elope with me. What ‘can you be thiaking about!” insisted the ‘You heard every word I said, young lady, with m lovely dignity that pre~ cluded any’ idea of “softness” or intending forwardness. “I believe you can be trusted. And I want you to elope with me tonight.” Mr. McPherson felt fattered—why should he not’—even in the midst of the horror aroused by the proposed enterprise. To be sure, he knew that be was attractive enough, you know. and had some ways of his own, of course, and he believed—that is, he conldn't help believing, he was somewhat magnetic, yousee, and girls would fallin love with him ‘once in a while of course—so he must do the father, brother and spiritual adviser act, all in one, in this case; it would make a very pretty and creditable story to tellTom undone or two others—though the best girl at Wilmington must, of course, never hear anything about it; and it would be right. He nerved and com? posed hituself for the “contes: with this dainty little morsel of misdirected sentiment. “My dear girl,” he marmured quietly and friendly, taking one of her hands in his with a somewhat awkward paternal air. “You” must pardon me for solemuly warning you against {his infatuation,” ni “But what use is it to warn me?" asked the girl, looking him straight in the eyes with an air of graceful honesty that he could not but respect while he admired. “There is no es eaping the infatuation. I do not think heaven meant me to escape it.” Tr, quite posi- ‘so lovely @ “Ob, yes. it did,” insisted Bad, tively. “Heaven always inten girl \d escape every thi ; and, sides. it would be impossible for me ever to joim my fate with you® in the bonds of holy ‘matrimony. 1 ai—am—em—engaged.” ‘The best girl at Wilmington, Del, shed her Joined all the songs with a very passable and adjastable voice, which could be utilized asa tenor, alto, soprano or bass; suggested that one of the try a course in his college; y exciting pictures of tennis, foot bell and rowing tournaments; recoanted all ‘the rst principles of colloge athletics, and influence apou Badge ve bim & ‘Bus faithful if the eaidst of dire “Ob, the stupid I little, slightly bitter remark toll you all, It is notyouL ‘But in that case what do you waut to elo with me for?” he inquired with the slightest twist of asperity to his tone. “What do you nt to elope for anyhow?” That is the curious part of it,” mused the with a girl, “and the most «ificult. You see,” deep, brooding look in her glorious the best girl in Wilmington, Del., ¢ approach, “I love him—I love him so— ‘Yes, you love him,” interrupted Badger, with increasing curtness, which ue toiled hard arly exhausted with this fellow whom she “loved, loved #: “You told me that. But what do you want cf me?” “Oh,” persisted the eccentric beauty, “I ought to love him awfully weil, for I'm the pers = hia ea that do They all un im but me—pdor, dear, unappreciated Hughie! Zi i So “Hugh” was theigiven name of this fellow, who was, no doubt, a rascal. Hadger had never liked the name Hugh, anyway. and elongation into ‘Hughie’ © strack him e~ culiarly unpleasant. His own best girl had sometimes called him *Badgi but even that seemed “stale, flat and unprofitables.” just now. “Father, mother, brother, sister him,” continued the maiden reflectivel; ven Voltaire never would Jet him come into the yard. if ho could help it.” “Who is Voltaire?” inquired Badger. “Another fellow? “Voltaire is our family dog,” replied the girl. “We named him that because he does hot revere his maker. Everybody is down on poor Hughie, except me, and I never, never Will desert him! Ho is unfortunate, and most Prople hate misfortune, even in anybody else. He has expiained all his troubles to me, and I 4m the only ong that understands him. All the rest of the world is against him.” A largo symmetrical tear that had been list- ening to the conversation from behind the cor- ner of one of her eyes now discovered itself, | came boldly out, and ina manner tried to join the company. But it was promptly rebuked and sent away. ‘This girl was no maiden Niobe, no matier what else she might be. “Well,” replied Badger, getting his second wind, “the clopement industry is generally understood to be a wicked, dangerous, ever- lasting regretable kind of business; but, for the sake of the argument (laying your ownsake de for a moment), if you two want to elope, why in the worid don’t you do it? Why doesn t he come here, chloroform Voltaire and run off with you like » man? Why do you go telling other folks about it and try to get them to go along with you? Why doesa't he —” “He is not able,” murmured the young lady. “He cannot go anywhere just at present. I can elope, but he can't for an hour or two yet at least. He—be—isn’t very well. Poor, dear Hughie!” “Where is he?” asked Badger, in rather an authoritative tone, fecling that’ there must be something very queer, if not crooked, in the young man in question. “Hughie is in—in—in—jail,” rep! maiden, with a quaver in hersweet voice. “But he has explaiued it all to me; now he happened to be found with the horse. the silks, and the jewelry, and the marked Lilis, and the counter- feit money, and all the things that they have been accusing him of. Oh, it is too bad! If they knew Hughie as well'es Ido they would understand that he never would demean him- self 40 as to steal horses, dry goods and things.” “It is, indeed, unfortunate that the authori- ties hold the opinions you mention,” replied Badger, dryly. He was fast dropping into areas jut, admitting for the sake of ar- gument (and laying your own sake aside once more), that he is innocent, I should not think he would be ina very good condition to receive visitors in the dead of night until after he has been tried and acquitted.” - “No,” replied tue young Indy pensively, but with growing cheerfulness, ‘he is not in a very good condition to receive visitors, but for my sake he will brace up to it, He has been tried and convicted and will be sentenced and taken to state's prison tomorrow unless we go and help him out tonight. Ihave gathered enough getting-out tools to let him through to me in ten miuutes. The jail is old, rotten and crazy. He can get everything through the grates by a string. He can cut whole window out in a few minut . if he only has the tool: Poor Hughie is anatural mechanic. Then, you see, away we go! Hughie, and I, to some piace where true worth is appreciated and innocent Young men are not accused of burgiary and other absurd crimes. I have gathere enoygh money to keep us til poor Hugl proven innocent. We will commence lite over again, my true love and 1!” and she smiled i ety in the name of all that’s diubolical, g on and do it, then,” blurted out the student, now thoroughly off his temper. “If you're bound to wed yourself to vice and crime for the Temainder of lite, forge abead. Sut why should you try to mix me up in it? I've enough delinquencies of my own without going into partnership with “Hughie.” “Oh, have you delinquencies?” inquired the girl, with so demure and well-balanced a manner that Badger haw never Leeu xble to decide whether she was sarcastic or in earnest. “I thougist you were about perfect. But I tell you, Hughie is iunocent!” with a slight flash im her steady, but constantly changing eyes. “It will be proved #0, some day, he says, and Hughie wouldnt tell mea lie. On, no! He would die sooner! He said so.” ' (Badger reflected so.emnly and savagely on the depths to whic woman's infatuation could decsend.) “It was all a mistake—a whole lot of .mistakes. 1f he can only get out now, before he has incurred the disgrace ot going to state’s prison, and stay there ander another name, somewhere where he can be appreciated—it will bw all right, and that’s what I want you to help me to help him boy ing : “Well?” punctuated Badger, with sullen cu- riosity. : “You see,” continued the enterprising young lady, “I will tell you just how we can make it all come out, including Hughie. ‘The jail is only four miles from this house. We will stenl from here quietly, and ip a half hour we can ughio will be expecting me: he cially tonight. Liv whispers “Yes, throws out the ‘dangier’ and pulls up the eae he calls them, opens the crazy old window of grates, or whatever it is, draws up rope ladder and is soon on the ground beside “In such a case two would be s tcte-a-tete end three # convention,” replied Badger. “So you've no use for me, and I certainly have none for tie proposed excursion of innocents. So good-night and « pleasant journey.” “Ob, but you can be of more use than you think,” insisted the girl “Let me go on. Poor Hughie gets to the ground and sees you. He says: Who's this bloke you've got with you?” (Hughie was always a little jealous of je.) Aud then I say: ‘It's not a bioke, Hughie, but adear, good, sweet theological student from Mlinceton, who says ho will do anything in the world he can for ine, and now he's proving it. And then you see, dear Mr. McPherson, you climb up the rope ladder and get into the cell, in Hughie’s place” — 4 “The—that is, the dickens I do!” growied r, under bis breath. “You understand,” continued this singularly well-informed young lady, ‘the jailor has an inopportune way of owling through bis old dungeon ouce an hour, Just nowadays, aud ing into all the cells, on account of some Featless and desperate counterfeiters who need watching. Ifhe should see that Hughie was goue when he came around next time he would shout and ring bells and call out the militia or and we should be caught, It will giebe site REE i E i ; to keep courteous. He began already to feel | athlete. How fortunate that all studonts are athletes in these days! And now,” she con- tinaed, in a burried manner, as if Badger had ready eagerly fallen into her plans, “we must be off immediately. The horses are harneseed, saddled and waiting—althougb, poor, dear pets, they don’t know what it’s for.” And her eyes moistened a little for these honest, unconscious of the farm, for whom she evidently cherished a genuine love. “Who the--—, that is, who the dickens har- nessed and sagdied them?” said Badger. “I did,” rgplicd the young lady, just before I came in here. Imustnow goto my room and write a farewell note tomy parents—and brothers— and sisters"—she burst into tears for the first time, but recovered herself immediately. 3 softly through the door and meet me | twonty rods down the road, to the west of hero, | Don't make any racket; there's no need of it ‘The doors are all unlocked—the hinges oiled. Now, be sure!” And this singularly deter- mined and high-spirited girl fought back her tears, gave Badger's hand # hearty comrade- like pressure and was going, “And you tuink I wil join in such an insane, such a thoroughly wicked expedition?” groaned the student. “What, are you backing ont?” exclaimod the girl, turning round with a withering glance. “Afraid todo a little thing like that to save my life from being wrecked, when only a few hours ago you were ready to die forme! You don't dare do it! Oh, you don’t look so very much like acoward!” ‘Lam nota physical coward, I think,” re- plied McPherson, “but Lam afraid to help you in a course that will not only wreck your life, but your soul!” “I tell you you don't know Hughie,” shouted the thoroughly infatuated girlin a half whisper. “He doosn't go around wrecking souls, of hearts either. He is ax good, as true, as honest, as you are! Ob, you don't know him, you don't know bim—you don’t care or dare to help him or“me! ‘Shen {haven't one friend, till [get to him, and I will go alone! Good bye!” She started to leave the room. ‘Badger was thinking very fast, He thought he saw the right way out of tho difficulty. It would certainly be no sin to deceive this way- ward," headstrong git!, m order to keep hor from'ruin. He let himself down gingerly into a bit of pions strategy. “Well, if you putit that way,” he said, “I can’t resist you. Idon’t know as little lark like that would hurt me, after ail, You are get back in time?” xclaimed the de- ood, 8o kind, so brotherly,” replied the dissembling youth. brother wouldn’s do this sort of thing for you. He'd lock you up first.” “More than a brother you are!” exclaimed the girl. brother that helps one tie w: helped. Ou, it was lovely—incky ed to come here! You are so good. She throw her arms around the young man’s neck and gave him a thrilling, nover-to-be-for- gotten It was an innocent though intonse caress of gratitude. but a bewildering one. Poor Badger forgot the Delaware young lady | entirely fora moment. But with the reaction came more than ever a feeling that he must save this glorious creature, aust keep hor from the eriminal who had somehow entrapped her in the meshes of his fascinations and was try- ing to drag her down to himself. “I must hurry,” she exclaimed. “It is al- most time we started. Oh, [eball soon be in | dear Hughie’s arms again!’ And she, who had just had poor Badger for one stunning moment im her own, had flown softly to her room. ‘That lust sentence did not decide the young , but hastened Lim, He happened to know er fathers bed room was, for the old gentleman in last evening's eonver- e remembered (although it seemed now about a century agone), hai been explain- dig the peculiar aid adveutajecus eonstruc- tion of his little rural mansion. Se He felt, ase stood there after knocking, like Iago rousing Brabantio to inform him of Desdemona’s famous olopement with -the brawny Othello. Fortunately the old gentle man jas n light sleopor and” his wife a hoavy one. He hastily threw on his garments and came to the door. He saw in a moment who it was by the lamp that Badger had brought with 1 “Are you ill?” “No, sir,” was the reply, “but I feel it my duty to inform you that your eldest daughter is in her room preparing to elope with a Mr. Hugh somebody, after helping him out of jail. She——" ‘Come with me, sir. if yon plense," inter- rupted the old” man, who, evidently from for- mer information, comprehended matters im- mediately. “I would like to have you with .” And they proceeded to the young lady oom, Badger very reluctantly, but not know- ing exactly how to avoid it. She was in the midst of her note of farewell when so invaded; she had locked her door ax she supposed, but the boit had slipped outside the sict, as bolts sometimes willdo when shot ina hurry. ‘The tleman now locked it with very “notic nry, my dear danghtor,” he t you vet hold your extraordi- nfatuation for that young man, and are ry it to such lengths. Have you not read in the Good Book not to follow the steps of him that goeth astray She said nota word, but retreated to acor- ner, where sho stood like a” half-penned tigress about to spring. Ladger. somehow or other, found himself standing in an opposite corner, just as far from her as ho could get. ‘The old oceeded: , you have never become suffi- y acquainted with this holy book, though possessing such a beautiful edition of it.” “He picked up an elegant Westminster and seated himself at the table on which sho had jast been writing her letter of farewel at which he glanced, saying in a kind but jad y: “Very well composed, my dear You are improving in English composition. _Ouly, the material—the subject matte fault.” ‘The good but shrewd old gentleman turned to tho proverbs of Solomon and read aloud everything he could find that bore upon the case. ‘Thogirl half threw, half crouched her- self gracefully on a small sofa near the corner and said never a word. ‘Lhe young student would have gone to his own room, but the door was lockéd and the key in the'other man's pocket. So he stood and listened (getting mighty tired, too), for a long time betore the courtly old gentleman re- etubered to offer him @ chair. For along time the reading went on, varied by correla- tive passages in other parts of 4he sacred writ, which this eradite parent found by means of a concordance, Lailger loved the Scriptures, Dut Le felt that this ‘was rather more than he needed at one instaliment. He did not like to ask ior egress from the room and, indeed, somehow had # faint suspicion that’ the old gentleman had covertly uoticed his flirting the ing before, and deceived that be, as well as ‘oung lady, would be ‘nono the worse for some Biblical instruction. At any rate they Voth received it, and it was not until a gleam of daylight removed all danger of jail Lreak- ing that he arose, unlocked’ the door, Dado Badger a courteous and his daughter an af- fectionate ‘good morning, dears,” and went out to discharge from duty the horses that had been waiting so long for events that never came. During the reading of the Holy Word Badger tried his best to keep his yes off the beautiful prisoner in the corner, but she fasci- nated them there continually. Her tongue had 10 need to speak to him; her eyes were orators. they kept saying such things as these aud he, poor fellow, uudersioot them only too well: “Oh, you'would do anything in the world for me, wouldn't you? I was to know whenover Zot could help me, even ut the risk of your fe, yes? Brave, t young maa! A true knight of chivalry! If Kad wanted to elope with you now you wouldn't have informed my father after having cousented to the en would you? And then you would no doubt havé sneaked off and deserted me afterward. So glad you came along. You have helped me so much. Congratulations to the young lady ou are engaged tu. I had rather kave Hi ‘* ittle finger in jail than your whole body, her ‘What is it, sir?” he said courteously. and soul all at large.” She also quite often wiped ously with a dainty handkerchief, understood this, 100. Sho was trying away the momoty of that kiss of gratitude she had given him. When our to brush CHAPTER IL Apparently nobody but the three most inter- ested knew of the events of the evening before. All soemed as bright, joily and cordial as ever, and tho family smiled on their attractive young guest who had made the preceding evening so intoresting to them. “How little one-half a house knows what the other two-thirds is doing !” parodied Padger to himself. Even his fair and winsome fellow-nctor in the comedy of tho still small hours came in, a little late, said “Good morning,” as if nothiug had happened, and was in the cozy sitting room with tho others when the old genticman conducted the mily devotions preliminary to breakfast. he chapter seemed very long to Badzer, ax he lad hada great deal of the same kind of pabulum #0 shortatime before, and when asked to “join us in prayer,” be did not feel up to himself in petitionery eloquence. He was rather noted among his associntes as very eficient in invocation, but this time he felt considerably like a failu: that he made the safe port of the “amen” with the there wreck of a prayer in tow. Just as the services closed and the family arose from their knees to their feet the sound of a wagon at the gate was heard. Voltaire was soon off the doorstep into the yard, baying and yelling, suatling and howling, al! in the same monologue. The Be: ple from the wagon had fairly to fight their way to the door. A sturdy, prosaic looking man at last en- tered, who was greeted caimlv by the courteous old gentleman as “Sheriff Davidson.” He had with him a very meck, inoffensive lool young man, who looked robber as a plate of unbaked doughnuts would, As they entered the young lady with whom Padger bad had his experience of the night be ve a pathetic little screech aud flung herself ‘all over the young fellow, and never ceased kissing him til ine had him on the sofa with her, sitting arm in arm. “You see, sir.” said Sheriff Davidson, ad- dressing the head of the family, but ‘awk- wardly, “this isa dumbed queer an’ inconsistent case. ° This ’ere young feller has been in jail two months for stealin’ goods that another feller took, an’ that he didn't know nothin’ about till they was found—the goods in his room in his cousin's house an’ the house in the woods back of his great uncie’s farm. It was first-class proof, as circumstantial evidence goes, and he was on his way to stato’s prison tomorrow as sure as cud be. Guilty asa dog, if ever a feller was guilty by circumstantial evidence. But last might, abont 1 o'clock in the mornin’, some fellors tried to break jail an’ git out. One on ‘em was shot an’ they all was bagged ag’in. ‘The jay that was clipped thought he was goin’ to die, an’ the doctor thought 80, too, awhile, just to see if he wouldn't confess somethin’ Ho was @ superstitious, sentimental sort 0 feller and insisted on recountin’ of his whole life—a darned mean lite it was, too. Among other things he gave us sure clues, so’s we've found out, that this young feller was as inno- cent of ever tryin’ to do anything ag'in the law as that young lady there a-settin’ amongst him. It's ull been put up on him, an’ very ingenious, too. Ho's goin’ to be let out on his own responsibility after breakfust, an’ will be set free reg’lar in a few days. I’ tried to git him to keep quiet, but he said No, he must give you folks down here the information that he wasn’t a thief before he siep’ or e't, aw’ so I come out with him this early, provid’n’ he won't sue nobody for false imprisonment cr anything connected with the mistake.” it was certainly a very cxtraordinary affair Badgec thought ashe abstracted his roll of maps from the improvised store room of the covered bridge and started off again to in- crease the geographical knowledge of the rural districts. ‘The young fellow had suffered so keenly and 80 unjustly that the heart of the sympathetic family had melted toward aim. Even Voltaire had consented to take his case under canine consideration, study t carefully, Sater and meanwhile contemplate him in cheerful and inoffensive silence. Consent had been ob- tained to a marringe in the family at the ensa- ing Christmas or thereabouts and Badger been invited to be the best man and bring his best girl from Wilmington, Del. The young lnay had behaved very well in the midst of her unexpected proud triumph and had only said as she bade her midnight fellow conspirator a warm, cordial good-bye, with not half as much regret in it, though, as he could have liked: “You seo, I was right; poor Hughie is n good, true-hearted boy, as well as the most lovable one in the world; he wouldn't steal any sooner than you or I would. And you were right, too; for if we'd tried to help him out, we might bav beon discovered the same as the counterfeiters were, as we shouid have been there about the same time: might have got mixed up with the gang, in fact, and been arrestede for breaking Jail.’ Good-bye, be sure and come at Christ- mas.” And Badger muttered as he started for the next house with the usual every-day hope that geographical knowiedge might be in demand there, “Alay be I will. WILLIAM'S BRANDENKURG S8PEECH. A Literal Translation of the Remarks Which ‘Have Caused so Much Comment. Ithas been intimated that the late riots in Berlin, Leipsic and Danzig were provoked in part by some imprudent speech on the part of the German emperor. It is thought that it would have been wiser had he suppressed tho remark written in the Fremdenbuch at Munich, “The king's will 1s the highest law.” “But con- cerning his speech made at the banquet in Brandenburg,” a writer toTwx Stan says, “a ingle quotation out of it misrepresents the ideas and intentions he had at the time. For instance, most papers quote part of that speech, which contains an enrnest appeal to all who aro discontented to leave the country at once. But todo the emperor justice, I give below the most interosting part of that speech, literally as given by the Reichsanzeiger. “Tam sorry to state that it bas become the custom of late to find fault with and to grumble at everything that is done ou the part of the government. Under the most trifling pretexte the quiet of the people is disturbed and the happiness of their own life and their delight in the life and the prosperity of our great, united German fatherland 1s embittered. By such in- stigation and such grumbling finally the thought comes to many, as if our couniry be the most unhappy and the worst governed of the world and a torment to live in it. That this is notso allof us know, of course. But would it not be better if those discontented grumblers would shake the dust from their feet and ors in that way from those miserable, wretched state of afiairs. Itisall they disire ey would do x great favor. ive in @ passing condition. Germany outgrows by degreos her childhood to arrive at the age of youth, therefore it might be time to do away with children’s diseases. Wo aro experionciify animated and exciting days, in which the Judgment of the mass of people ia unfortunately lacking objectivity. To those days more quiet ones will follow if our nation shows herself manly, reflects, and, disrogard. ing foreign voices, puts her confidence in God and in the honest, providing work of her legiti- taate monarch. “In a very ap) ‘on com; ey inte way the emperor went is passing condition with an the voyage of discovery of the nghsh admiral, Sir Francis Drake, to w wnt Acris hc showed fia Pail a Sta Mien et spaired of secing it, a “Then iphone nang itso with us. The assurance of your fait 8] th suppors- ing me in my work always 'gives me osw —— to ftw ads the work and to Sine Oe tee of tee ae Supreme Master on high conviction that our old ally of Dennewitz will not forsake us i and let < 8 i é le itt IN CASE OF WAR WITH ENGLAND. How the Arrogance of Great Britain Might Be Humbled. THE UNITED erates EVEX IX ITS DEFENSELTSS CONDITION A NATION THAT WOULD HAVE EVERY ADVANTAGE OVER EXGLAND—HOW ENGLAND'S COMMERCE MIGHT BE SWEPT FROM THE SEAS. S@NOTWITHSTANDING THE ALMOST certain prospect of an amicable and satisfactory settlement of the Bering sea difii- culty,” said an old soldier and a careful stu- dent of public affairs to a Sran reporter, “those abnormally pstriotie people who ale Ways—in season and out of scason—favor tho old flag anda large appropriation are sedu- lously and energetically endeavoring to raiso the hue and cry and convince the country of the imminent danger of a war with Great Britain. Sixty days ago these samo alarmists were just as energetically predicting war with Chile, drawing gloomy pictures of the defense- Jess condition of all our sea coasts and pointing to the probability that the overpowering Chilean ironclads would bombard and devastate San Francisco and other towns of the Pacific coast. Bat nobody wae frightened and there was no war,as the administration and the Public had confidently foreseen. And there be no war with England. ‘There was never a timo in her history when England could less afford to go to war with this Ration than at the present moment. And while it is not at ali probable our uegotiatio relating to the Bering sea matter are peed cated upon the assumption that England ci be bullied because she dreads a collision with the United States President Harrison and the Senate know there is not the slightest danger of war with that country over this or any other controversy unless we become unreasonable or the British government loses its senses. | Nor is it likely England's diplomats will be encoi aged to enlarge upon and press their demands with a threat of war because of the alleged de- fenselesa and indefensible condition of the American frontier along the great Inkes and Canada. There will be—tbere is—moderation on both sides, and those best informed are per- fectly confident the controversy will be ar- ranged without friction. “People as intelligent as the Americans gd | Englisu will not long be deceived or misjudge tho’ merits of the case or misunderstand the situation from the utterance of w few hot- headed, incousiderate orators and newspaper on both sides of tho Atlantic, based on insufti- cient and often mistaken dutn, und sometimes dictated by prejudice or design. As a matter of fact there is very little beat over the matter on either side, ENGLAND'S VULNERABLE POINT. “There is no question of the English courage to fight this or any other nation under the sun. And doubtless she is more powerful today in all the elements for warfare than when she won her greatest victories over France and Spain and Holland. But on the other hand, in one important and vital particular, she is rela- tively weaker and more vulnerable than ever, and ‘especially so im a fight witha bold, re- sourceful, seafaring nation like the United States. It is in respect of her vast commerce, which covers every sea, and amounts to more than that ofall the other nations combined, that Britain is weak and vulnerable. She could doubtless inflict great damage on this country with her powerful navy, but it is hardly possi- ble that on land her ‘army could meke more than a temporary impression. On the other standing her great naval flect, it would prove entirely inadequate to the task of protecting her merchant marine. “When the civil war began in this country America’s commerce was second only to that of England;indced, we were rapidly overhauling our great ri Yan merchant ships traversed all the sens. before the close of the war a beggarly half dozen confederate suips, manned largely by Englishmen, bad completely cle: the Ocean of our commerce. It was proved that a swift sailing third or fourth-rate armed ship is an eesy commerce- destroyer. A big, unwieldy unarmed merchant man stands about in the same relation toa man- of-war that a cow does to a bulldog. THE SEA WOULD SWARM WITH CRUISERS. “Once fairly embarked ina contest with Eng- land, the oceans would swarm with American cruisers of all sizes and armaments, manned by the best sca fighters the world has ever pro- duced except the English themselves. “the English are well aware of this. No British war ship was ever whipped and made to haul down her colors by a single ship of equal or less force of any nation in the world except the American, “In 1512 the disparity between the two countries on the ocean and great lakes was far greater than now, and yet our suckling navy made a rattling fight. On the lakes flotilias were soon organized that commanded them, humbling the pride of the British and capturing their fleets. So it would be again. “It is argued that such measly, nondescript ships as we would put into commission coud not contend for one moment with the British men-of-war and ironcluds. True, bat that would not signify, for England with her bun- dreds of warships would still be unable to patrol every sea and watch over her merchant marine. Any nutber of our weak. unarmored commerce destroyers would doubtless be eap- tured. ‘They would be stigmatized as pirates and relentlessly crushed, bu: new ones would go forth to fill their places and the work of de- struction nox be nalted for one instant. We could stand the sacrifice and still continue the contest. And within a year or two,with all our vast facili- lesand resources, with the tiery energy begotten of mecessity and danger, we could put upon the sea some armored ships equal if not superior to anything Engiand hus afloat. ‘Temporarily the beginning we might—doubiless would—be at a disadvantage; eventually English com- merce would be totally wiped from the seasand her supremacy gone, ~All Ler North American provinces would be inevitably aud forever lost, probably including the West Indies. Gen, Nelson A Miles re- cently made the pregnant remark that we could seize ali the Canadian lines of railway within NOT TO TAKE PATTERN AFTER OTRER WOMEN'S HOTELS—WHY THEY WAVE FAILED AND WHERE- FORE THIS ONE WILL SUCCEED—LIBERTY, ECON- OMY AXD PLEASANT SURROUNDINGS PROMISED. ‘W220 THE NEXT FORTNIGHT PLANS which have been maturing for some time Past for the establishment of a women’s botel in Washington will have arrived at the point of active execution, Fifteen or twenty duly au- thorized’persons will go about the city and secure subscriptions to the fand required for the establishment of the enterprise upon & fecure financial basis. It is estimated that £100,000 will be required for the purpose, and | knob or crosspicce, both heavy and large, al- the expectation is confidently entertained that | though often delicately decorated. The skele- © difficulty will be had in procuring eo much. | ton frames beld together by these sticks are the scheme having already received very cordial | silk wound and silk covered, and are then and general approval among influential per- | decked ont with crepe de chine, mousselin @e sons, who have given their names to its in- | soie, chiffon, lace, inserting: avd pleatings, as dorsement. A CRNTRAS, LocaTION. Assoon as the money is obtained gro will be purchased ins central location anda suitable building will be erected upon it. | and are being sold by ARASOLS HAVE COME to be almost as mach « matter of fancy, frills and frailty as ere fans. The question of utility in almost wholly elimi nated, tnless one might consider the heavy and often gnarled stick, should occasion re- quire, as @ weapon of defense ‘Those sticks ere ebort and bluntand are provided with @ well as floral prays, ribbon bows and birds and insects, real and simulated These gay, diaphanous things, which are never useful and cannot posibly be used for months to come, are already on the ground dozens every The Plans for the structure have not been com- | truth is that this is one of the busiest shopping pleted as yet, because its size and manner of | sensons, in a quiet way, of the whole year. construction will chiedy depend upon the | While women are strictly observing all Gl smount of cash available. contain at leat 200 bed rooms, also a number of drawing rooms of moderate size, a library, # reading room, a gymoasium and hall, with stage for entertainments. There will bea restaurant, open to the public. ABOUT HOTEL* FOR WOMEN. Experiments with hotels for women have often boen made. Usualiy they have failed be- cause it was attempted to place restrictions upon the liberties of the inmates, The most notable instance of this kind was the institu- which A. T. Stewart,the dry goods millionaire, established in New York about fifteen years ago. Those for whose benciit the house was opened would not live there, tor the reason that it was attempted to keep a watch over their incomings aud outgoings. {hey were not even permitted to receive visits from their male ac- quaintances, which was a deprivation of nat- ural rights altogether intolerable. Accordingly, tho establishment turned out a failure. No euch mistakes will be made in the management of the proposed women s hotel here. NECESSARY SUPERVISION. Wherever a number of persons of either sex are gathered together some sort o” supervision isa necessity. But in the women's hotel at Washington no more restrictions will be im- oved on the personal liberty of the oarders than are usual in ay respectable boarding houre. A board of governors, elected by the subscribers to the capital stock of the concern, will exercise control over all affairs, just as is customary with any club. There will be a house committee, which will have charge of the running gear of the institution. Among the necessary rules of order will doubtless be a prohibition “against the reception of male j Visitors in the private rooms of boarders, but reception rooms wiil be provided for that pur- pose. Men will be welcome to use the res- twuyant and to attend entertainments and leo- tures. WHERE SHALL A WOMAN BOARD? “Where shall I board?” is » question of com- paratively small moment toa man, bat of su- preme importance to a woman, especially if she issingie. Nowhere ix this quest on more im- portant than in Washington—essentially a city of strangers, Small wonder that visions of a feminine Utopia withia four walls, in the shape of a great boarding house for women, with promises of security, economy, wide range of congenial eompanioaship and other ameni- ties, should have floated before many a female mind. Bat im such an enterprise as this there must be no consideration of charity involved, else it is sure to fail. Furthermore, thoce who benefit by it will insist upon preserving their independence. A women's hotel in order tosucceed must afford facilities for enjoyment superior to those of the ordinary boarding house and must be more economical. Ax to the last point, it is believed that Loard, lodgiug and all privileges can be sapplied ata cost to each inmate of not more that $3.50 a week. NO SOCIAL LINE WILL BE DRAWS respecting admissions to the institution, Neces- sarily those who enjoy its bene‘its willeompose a rather heterogeneous gathering. If they were all forced to associate together promise ously there would be unpleasantness. But euch Gifficulties will be entirely avoided by the adoption of what might be called a system of clubs within a club. That is to say, the board- ers will form cliques among themselves, accord- ing to individual inclination, and each little club so formed will have its own reception room, to which only its own embers will be admitted. There will be a general drawing room, where any nowcomer can re- ceive her friends and flock by herself until she makes acquaintances and ted to one of theclubs. Thuseverything wiil be thoroughly congenial and happy. Any member of a club will ve at liberty, of course, to invite any per- son she desires ito the reception room of her own club, THE FIRST STEPS. While the women’s hotel will be designed to attract well-to-do women its primary purpose will be to afford to women of limited means security and suitable accommodations without obliging them to accept charity. ‘This caanot be done in a house that receives only tie poorly paid and the penniless. Such an esteb- lishment obliges every one who enters it to confess herself! poor. which is precisely what no ong wants to do. The first thing necessary, therefore, is to gather in the ifstitution a con siderable number of prosperous women, who will give a superior tone und prevent ail sus- picion of charity. The next thing will be to provide within the hotel so many attractions ten days. Yet there are writers who gravely taik about the rapidity with which Engiand could move 50,000 troops from India over the Canadian railway to protect Canada. England's indian army might have business at home to attend to. ENGLAND'S ARROGANCE WOULD BE RUMBLED. “In short, practically, without a navy or an army, we are yet the one single nation of the earin that would have every advantage of England, and could accomplish what is indi- cated above. Once aroused to a full knowledge of our power it is not likely thie nation would let up until tho arrogant English power had been completely and adequately humbled. An: it is probable we should have pe assistance in the good work. An Eng! and long maintained as the family quarrel. “A number of our far-seeing statesmen quietly hold the opinion that war with England would have its compensations; that it would be of di- ternal national prosperity. could live within ourselvesand mak and desperate war without buying » abroad, yzowing stronger year by land knows this quite well. As could now more easily dg this than ded and isolated south did it ina urs during tho four years of the civil war. Sen Se tween Rome ani one scale, and the result might be similar. Cart was then the greatest commercial nation in world; Rome, so to speak, just boginning to Carthage for a time bearded Rome at her very portals and comand her existence, but Rome grew stronger and stronger, more confident aud truculent. She finally turned the tables on her +e apd yey oan ie Woe eres Si tates in behalf of Canadian seal poachers. Her statennen ‘understand, oaly toe "well the such a collision.” that the poor will obviously appear to resort to it“not for the sake of economy, but for the sake of pleasanter living. Ecouomy will be the necessary result of the presence of a large number, permitting purchases at wholesale prices and other ways. A demand will be created for work in the kitchen, dining room, laundry. sewing room, &¢., which can be filied by those temporarily’ out of employ- ment, who will thus be ap to earn dele board and small wages unt yy can find em- ployment elsewhere. Their work will be done under careful a 4 kitchea will be- come a cooking sewing rooma dressmauking school, the housework « school for domestic servants. HOW THE MONEY WILL BE RAISED. i ts, de., partios and proceeds of en- tertainments will be devoted ae interest and ultimately to redeoi bonds. Of course, no hope of large profite can be offered Im i SEE Me to the Wome American It will presumably | tian duties, executing kindly charities and BOLTING CLOTH AND CHIFFON PARABOLA. all ways observing Lent, and thus are laying up treasures where there is neither corruption nor theft, ther also bear in mind that th. eat advantage in the liberty of eb; may be exercived now. bat lator on ble. They therefore interlard the: and penances with purchases ag. of need when all the world will Even the derby, wh: heat, 1s being provi: parasols have been pur made to niatch costu which is, by the by, alwa: the parasol. Say colors prevail throughout the parasel family, from the big protective urabrelle down to the little sun shield. Every color in the realm of nature, and several that are not to be found there, are to be seen in the cover= for that occasion, © apotueosis of ings of parasols and umbrellas, and the girl ho selects the vivid shade for’ her parasol i# sure to be in touch with the mode, Napoleon and royal biues and cardinal are the stylish colors for umbrelias and b is passe. To the girl who has a black which she « conacienic« an umbrelia in band Proper caper, the suggestion to get a colored cover r add to her comfort, it will enable her to appear fasinionab.e so long #8 18 does not rain. ty in fancy parasols ie, as it were, ap- as to the #ti ¢ parasol has cy Dre: n hand top and be in this way with th eeud owe It is covered hite «ik and shirred chidon, has a wide flounce about the edge of uccordion-plaited and is wathad um! dliscard, since in all weathers is the ella, PARASOL WITH MANDLE TOP. as heavy asa policeman’s ciub, a: thing less personal ihe fair d it would certainly call masculine stren, her aid. Figured chiffon over white among the prime favorites, at wore ite who will carry panions. There are red parasols with tho steel frames gilded brilliant and fragile and flaunting as are some gorgeops Poppies, and others of tho same bright hue ave modified with frills of black luce. Bolting cloth ix another cloud-tike material that is used for these pretty confections thet have their excuse for being as purely «uppost- titious protectors from the sun. A handsome parasol of this material has whits lace featooued about the top and the edge Suished with @ double trill of brocaded bolting cloth, One side is ornamented with a flight of tiny, darks, iridescent humming birds. These birds ro h8 real article, although they would’ certainly be quite as artistic if they wore of ince or «ilk. What is known as the Prince of Wales croot, which is rhown in the initial iMustration, is ore of the latest and most stylish of the season's handles. Those are of natural wood. Indeodi, the fancy in handles is divided beteven the stick of natural wood and the Dresden handbs. Itis one of those inharmonious oddities to which fashion reconciles us tha: rough bro natural wood sticks appear in com the daintiest, most elaborately, arr terials. For instance,a white silk parasol, decc- rated with cupids painted on bolting cloth, st in medallions of duchesse lace, has « guaried natural wood stick. However, let no woman be deceived and think that she will get one of these creations for less money er pa 4 will not. It is sty! ys for 0 iS from @8 to @50, according to she style, nus that she wants—what woman does not want the prettiest and most extensive/—but that she can and | f | ie i HH i i | i i : Ht ‘ i fer bell i I i j etl i 8 & g E i f i ! i i i ft