Evening Star Newspaper, April 1, 1893, Page 7

POSTMASTER GE — THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. C. 1898—SIXTEEN PAGES. NERAL BISSELL. 1 | IN HIS OWN TOWN How Mr. Bissell Looks in the Eyes of Citizens of Buffalo, HIS WORK IN POLITICS ees His Friendship With Cleveland—A Wire Puller Behind the Scenes—The Romance of His Marriage—A Pen Picture of Mrs. Bis- selland Their Buffalo Home, Special Correspordence of The Evening Star. Brrrato, March 30. EN WEEKS AGO HE was only Bissell of Buffalo. Now he is Bis- sell of the United States. I refer to our new Postmaster Gen- eral. who has lived here for forty-odd years, his fat round cheeks blush- ing unseen in his prof- | itable law office, and his greatness going to waste in the desert air of the corporations whom he has counseled in a legal way to the tune of something like $50,000 a year. It is wonderfal how events produce great men, ! and how the elevation to power of one mortal pulls up the others about him. Benjamin Harrison raised his wand and fairy-like he created national reputations for |. John W. Noble of St. is. for Miller, his law partner, his old college frien I f others. Cieveland opened his end Daniel s and William C. Endicott became national quantities, and now through lus second cabinet utterance we are introduced wo Bissell, Hoke Smith, Danie! Lamont and ether men whose names we yet hardly know how to pronounce. “BOSOM FRIEND BISSELL.” ‘Mr. Bissell and Mr. Cleveland have been friends and counsellors for years, and Grover | seland has not in the world a man who nds closer to him than his new Postmaster eral. He was known in the newspapers daring the campaign of 1584 as “Boson Friend Bissell,” and the two, when ther were practic- ing law together here, were ealled the Damon ard Pythias of the Buffalo bar. He bas been “associated with Cleveland = dur- ing his years of prominence. and the fact that he has not been better known to the people has come from his queer taste for keep- ing himself out of sight. During my stay in lo T have chatted with close friends of men and I find that Mr. Bissell has in erred to be one of the her than a chief actor leveland to power. It is not that in the straggle between Cleveland and Blaine in 1894 Wilson S. Bissell was one of the chief directors of the Cleveland forces and that to hix sagacity the democratic Yictory was quite largely due. He was Mr. Cleveland « private and per-onal representative all throngh the campaign, and it fell to his lot to nullify the scandalous sent out cou- cerning his rariner’s past life. He bad been among the remost in securing Mr. Cleveland's nomination for sheriff, mavor and governor, lo with his first yas Daniel Man- ed with the event. | elevation of generally kn: ning. but he was not connec In the Chicago convention of Iast June | Mr. Bissell was equal m command with William C. Whitney. He did most of the plan- ning and the ex-sec: {the Navy did ail the credit, ed it gladly with had been willing. reely mentioned in few persons knew Buffalo man if the Mr. Biseell’s name wa: the newspapers. and ¥ then or know now th: © of his politi. power. He is row and has been for nearly a decade one of the great generals in the demo- cratic party. ve when it wax announced that he had been chosen to succeed John Wanamaker many democratic captains asked: “Who is Wil- ron 8. Biseell The new Postmaster General, according to the statemen those who know him here, is one of the closest-mouthed men in public life. has aiwars kept himself in the back ground, aad even in Buffalo he hax been rarely talked about. He has not the widest of acauaintance- ships, but e is a companionable man, broad- witty and a good taiker, except where sown affairs are concerned. Mention these and be shuts up like aclam and either stops talking or changes the subject. a 4 4 = 3 vp 1G, iN t tf WANAMAKER AND BISSELL. 5 In this respect Postmaster General Bissell will be found far different from John Wana- maker. Our last Postmaster General was gen- erally realy to talk about ansthing, from his Sunday school to great postal reforms. and from his store to the chances of fortune making for young mer. Mr. Wanamaker is a man of many . of much shrewd Gagne 20 rpm ean of wely tion of the value of newspa- Darter is the uy of. helping on bial ova ESS party. He bad first-class newspaver man at a salary of 23,000 a vear, which he paid ont ef his own pocket, by the way, in the person of Marsball Cushing, and the correspondents and news rer- were always welcome at his offce. Through this bis administration was better advertised and better presented to the ‘than that of any Postmaster General of his newspaper secretary one of bis best Wash- ington investments. ze x General Bissell doos not change ebaracter 0 iy. He has never had j He rl $e fi it | everywhere, | Judge Hall as his Postmaster General, after- It Postmaster General | books and legal questions more than with the managing of men, and he will not start out . | with the same advantages Wanamaker'’s exper- ience in his store gave him. ‘The two Postmasters General are the oppo- site in appearance. Bissell weighs twice as much as Wanamaker and he tips the beam at about 300 pounds. His massive skull could contain Wanamaker’s head and the brown hair of thegreat merchant would not touch the walls of Bisseli’s cranium were it boxed up in its cen- ter. Mr. Bisseli’s arms are as big around as ir. Wanamaker’s calves and his thighs measure Imost as much in circumference as does Honest John’s waist. Wanamaker is about tive feet eight: Bissell is over six feet in his stock- ings. Bothare smooth shaven, both dress in black and are simple in their tastes. CLEVELAND AND BISSELL. Here at Buffalo I hear many comparisons of Cleveland and Bissell, and the new Postmaster General seems to be in most ways the twin | brother of the President. ‘Their lives have run close together. They squalled in their cradles at about the same time away back in the forties. | Both came of fairly well-to-do families, Bis- sell's parents being perhaps the richer and | sending him to school at Yale. Both were | bachelors till they were forty years old, their _ wives are of about the same age and the two girls went to school together. Both families have one baby daughter, and the little girls are of about the same age. I chatted last night with an old lawyer friend of the two men. | id he: ‘Mr. Cleveland and” Mr. Bissell have been almost inseparable ever since the latter was chief clerk in the office of Lansing, Cleveland | & Folsom in 1870, When Mr. Cleveland was | elected sheriff of Erie county he wanted Mr. Bissell to become his deputy sheriff, | but the clerk thought he saw beiter things ahead in the law line and de- clined. A few months after he became the law partner of the Hon. Lyman K. Bass and three years later Mr. Cleveland joined the firm. The two men were seen together almost nd called each other “Wils’ and ‘Grove.’ When Mr. Cleveland married the daughter of another of his law partners, Oscar Folsom, Wilson Bissell was the best man, and when the prevent Postmaster General married Louise Fowler Sturgis in February, 1890, Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland were the guests of honor. ‘These two men have never ceased to be ““Wils” and ‘Grove’ to each other, and it is likely that no one in the cabinet will ‘have more influence in the new administration than Wilson S. Bis- sell. THE BISSELL-CLEVELAND LAW FIRM. ‘The old Inw firm in the Weed block, Buffalo, of,which Mr. Cleveland and Mr. Bissell were members has probably sent out more public men than any other in the United States, and Mr. Bissell is not the only Postmaster General among them. The firm dates back to 1834 the Hon. Orasmus H. Marshall, the most w York historians, opened larehuil’s first two partners | public office. His third | partner was Judge Nathan K. Hall, who had un- | til then been Millard Fillmore’s law partner. | When Fillmore became President he selected | ‘MR. BISSELL IN HIS LAW OFFICE. ward appointing him United States judge as successor to Koscoe Conkling'’s father. Nearly all subsequent members of the " firms descending in direct line from O. H. Marshall have held some im- portant ofice from district’attorney up. One of them, the Hon. I K. Bass, was not only a district attorney, but a member of Congress, id his widow is now the wife of Senator Ed. Wolcott of Colorado. Mr. Bass wax Bissell’s first partner, and Grover Cleveland joined the firm im 1874 after his term of sheriff had ex- pired. Bass withdrew on account of ill-health -and left the firm name Cleveland & The two men did a very large busi- ness as confidential advisers and counsel to corporations and in ® year they were sed to take in another pariner. Mr. Cleve- | laud remained a member of the firm through- out his term as mayor of Buffalo, bu: retired upon bis election as governor of New York, | leaving Mr. Bissell where he has been ever since, | atthe head of the firm, which is now styled Bissell, Sicard, Brundage & Bissell. A BIG LAWYER OUISIDE THE covRts. Tam told here that notwithstanding the fact that the new Postmaster General has been making from $10,000 to $50,000 a year at the | law, that he has never had a case in court in his | life. till he has been a member of the bar for twenty-two years and has made a fortune of something more than half a million dollars, He has wonderful executive ability and has made his money as counsel in big corporation casez. He 1s great man on contracts, and his quick- ness to forma sound judgment on important | matters has caused his advice to be sought in many of the largest railroad transactions of recent years. He has been president of two) railroads and is still at the head of the Buffalo and Southwestern, which he organ- | ized. for which he obtained the right of | way and for which he conducted the appraisal by which the road was leased to the Erie and | its stock brougut up to par He organized the Boffalo aud Geneva road. now # branch of the | Reading svstem, procured its charter and was first president. He aleo organized the New poration of the Lehigh Valley railroad, His present connection with the Reading sys- tem would be hard to discover, but, without exception, bis railroad management bas been | remarkably successful. He has » faculty for | getting quickly to the bottom of big mat-| ters and is a famous negotiator. Hence by | tactand training he seems to be s far better | man for Postmaster General than most persons | =~ emmpeae. a told that the Post Office partment was foliohe wanted and that he said to the President’ he would like eitLer | that or to be Secretary of. the Interior, j he didn't care much which. ¥ — SOMETHING ABOUT HIS HABITS. ‘Mr. Bissell, with all his greatness, is a de- as though he was sucking the end of a Tather then smoking. He smokes while talks, a good conversationalist. find, very popular ‘with thees | very wit well, He bus been a club president of the Buffalo institution of the term than any one seeing him engared ins three-legged race up there with Buffalo bank president. He never Wasa member of the fast set, however, and now ‘that he is married he is so devoted «| husband that he is the subject of much good-natured Jesting. ‘A WORD ABOUT MRS. BISSELL. Mrs. Bissell has been living in Buffalo for only a few years, but she has made herself very Popular here and I find that she has many ad- mirers and friends. She is both pretty and ac- complished and she promises to be one of the leading social figures of this administration. Let me tell you how she looks. Mrs. Bissell is tall and well rounded. Her dark brown hair is worn combed straight back without a crimp or curl. She has beautiful teeth and handsome blue eves. She has a good tailor, but in dress she follows Mrs. Cleveland's taste for simplicity. She car- ries her head high in the air and gives one the impression of strong self-reliance and great energy, determination and ambition. A ROMANTIC MARRIAGE. There is as much of a romance connected with the Postmaster General's marriage'as with that of President Cleveland. Mrs. Bissell's maiden name was Louise Sturgis. and she comes from an old family which is well known in different parts of the Union. One branch of it | lives at Mansfield, Ohio, and one of Mrs. Bis- sell’s relatives there has big brick house in the most fashionable part of the town. | Another branch moved from Mansfield to Ne and Stephen Sturgis is of the unknown well-to-do men of the polis. He would be called rich outside of New York. The branch to which Mrs. Bis- MRS, BISSENL. sell belongs comes from Geneva, N. Y., and Mrs. Bissell first came to Butfalo'to teach music in the Buffalo Seminary. She had early shown a great taste for music and it was here that she had in part earned the money which took her to Germany and France, where her beautiful contralto voice had been trained by Stockhausen and La Grange. Since the time she and Mrs. Cleveland had been schoolmates at Wells College she had planned and worked and studied with the idea of be- coming a professional singer. When at Ins was fitted to appear in public as a profes one of her first engagements was as a solois « Buffalo orchestra concert. While in that city she was the guest of Mra, George Sicard, wife of one of the members of the Bissell firm.” Mr. | Bissell met her there and it was a case of “love at first sight” on both sides, and the arrows of Cupid drove the Goddess of ‘Music off the field and Louise Sturgis. the music teacher, became Mra, Wilson 8. Bissell, the wife of’ the rich Buffalo lawyer and the future Postmaster General ‘THE BISSELL HOME AT BUFFALO. ‘Mrs. Bissell, of course, gave up her teaching | upon her marriage, but at her home here she has always had a musical circle round her, and at the capital she will form a feature of its musical as well as of its oficial society. She has a fine voice, and she has sung at a number of enter- tainments for charity. Her home here is a fine old-fashioned brick residence of two stories and a mansard roof. There is a tower in the middle of the front, and this forms the entrance on the ground floor. It is situated on Delaware avenue, surrounded by beautiful grounds, and is the house in which Jas, N. Matthews, the famons editor of the Buf- falo Express, lived and died. Postmaster Gen- | eral Bissell bought it a couple of years ago, and | he has furnished it ina solid, substantial which old-fashioned character. Since he has been in it he and Mrs. Bissell have given many quiet | little parties and a number of musicales, and | she has shown herself most entertaining and accomplished hostess. Tam told here, in fact, that Mr. Bissell would never have been Postmaster General had it not been for his wite. it is said that Cleveland offered him a cabinet position eight years ago, but he refused it. ‘This was before he had met his fate. With his marrage his tastes have changed, and he will do anything to oblige hi wife. She bas naturally great social ambitions, and when President Cleveland gave her the wi monizes with its big rooms and its | chance to gratify these in making her husband a cabinet minister Mr. Bissell accepted the place. Whether this story of Mra. Bisell’s , persuasive powers is true or not, it is an inter- esting one, and I give it for what it is worth, ¥ G. CauPENTER. ee Written for The Evening Star. THE Tome or An Easter Memory. Westminster Abbey! Who can scan thy nave, Sacred to ashes dear to mortal man, Without an awe-struck soul beside the grave Of genius brigittest since the world began? What flights of fancy! Chaucer takes the lead From Canterbury with his pilgrim band, ‘Whom Spenser and the Fairie Queene outspeed ‘To waft a greeting from the spirit land. Then rare Ben Jonson, Briton to the core, And Dougity Drayton glide upon the stage, ‘With Cowley, Congreve, Dryden, dust no more, ‘Their stgnets stampt upon the breathing page. Macpherson, classic Milton, thougntful Gray, Mat. Pryor, Rowe and Davenant filt past, As David Garrick treads the Appian Way In royal purple for great Cesar cast. The age of good Queen Anne, with Johnson wise, Dogmatic, dictatorial, sagely grand; Warm-nearted Goldsinith, whom the people prize; ‘Melodious Gay, and Addison the bland! And Campbell, Sheridan and Southey crowd ‘The azure field of galaxies sublime, Before accoutered chiefs and courtiers proud, ‘The kings of letters’ realm throughout all time. And as one dreams and ponders all these things, A child's small voice comes cheery to the ear, And Tiny Tim a Christmas carol sings Ason the grave of Dickens falls a tear. No sculptured urn above the sacred dust, No tablature to chronicle his fame; But there amid the centuries’ crumbling rust A simple slab to mark the well-loved name. Above this Thackeray's bust in radiance seen | recklessness of his haste. | toiling down the sie of the declivity. Tails truer than tall monuments of stone ‘That memory Keeps his mighty image green In love and tender reverence alone. And now the bard who sang us Locksley Hall, Godiva and the Idylis of the King Is garnered asthe autumn harvests fall And ripened boughs abroad thelr brown leaves fing. thy quest was not in vain, ‘Str Galahad has found the Holy Grail! © Tennyson, the last to soar among ‘Those souls of mighty ones from earth set free, ‘No more ghall mortals listen to thy song, ‘But celestial chant thy themes with thee! Davi Guawam Apse. * BUCKINGHAM'S DYE for the whiskers is the and dye ever invented. Itis the gen- ‘Uemen's ie BONES, THE APRIL FOOL OF HARVEY'S SLUICE. From Londomsociety. L BE DURTON’S CABIN was not beantifal. Peo- ple have been heard to assert that it was ugly, and even, after the fashion of Harvey's Sluice, have gone the length of _prefixing their adjective with a forcible expletive which emphasized their ertti- cism. Abe, however, was a stolid and easy- going man, on whose mind the remarks of an unappreciative public made but little impression. He had built the house himself, and it suited both himself and his partner, and what more did they want? ‘There was only one man inside the hut, and that was the proprietor, Abe Darton himself, or “Bones,” as he had been christened with the rude heraldry of the camp. He was sitting in front of the great wood fire, gazing moodily into its glowing depths, and occasionally givi & fagot a kick of remonstrance when it show indication of dying into a smoulder. fair Saxon face. with its bold, honest eyes and crisp yellow beard, stood out sharp and clear against the darkness as the flickering light played over it. It was a manly, resolute coun- tenance. and vet the physiognomist might have detected something in the lines of the mouth which showed a weakness somewhere, an inde- cision which contrasted strangely with his her- culean shoulders and massive limbs. “The Boss is late tonight,” he muttered as he rose from his chair and stretched himself ina colossal vawn. ‘*} 3, how it does rain and blow! Don't it, Blinky was a de- mure and meditative owl, whose comfort and welfare were a chronic subject of solicitude to its master. und who at present contemplated him gravely from one of the rafters. Abe was still talking when the rough door | was flung open and a blinding cloud of sieet | and rancame driving into the cabin, almost obscuring for the moment a young man who sprang in and proceeded to barthe entrance be- hind him. an operation which the force of the wind rendered “asy matter, “Well,” he said in a slightl en't you got any supper?’ “Waiting and ready,” said his companion cheerily, vointing to a large pot which bubbled by the side of the fire. “You seem sort of damp.” “Damp be hanged! I’m soaked, man—thor- oughly saturated. It's night that I wouldn't have a dog ont, at least not a dog that I had any Tespect for. Hand over that dry coat from the peevish voice, peg. Pack Maxey oc Teter) aa teen usualiy called, belonged to a type which was commoner in the mines during the flush times of the first great rush than would be supposed. He was a man of good blood, liberally educaved and a graduate of an English university. Boss should, in the natural course of things, been an energetic curate or struggling professional man bad not some latent traits cropped out in his character, inherited possibly from old Sir | Henry Morgan, who had founded the family | with Spanish pieces of eight gallantly won upon | the high seax. It was this wild strain of blood no doubt which had caused him to drop from the bed room window of the ivy-clad English rsonage and leave home and friends behind im to try his luck with pick and shovel in the Australian fields. In spite of his effeminate | face and dainty manners the rough dwellers in | Harvey's Sluice had graduaily learned that the | little man was possessed of ® cool courage and | unflinching resolution, which won respect in community where pluck was looked upon as thi highest of human attributes, No one ever knew how it was that Bones and he had become part- ners: yet partners they were, and the large, simple nature of the stronger ‘man looked with an almost superstitious reverence upon the clear, decisive mind of his companion. “That's better,” said the Boss, as he dropped into the vacant chair before the fireand watcned Abe laying out the two metal plates. “Come here and sit down.” His gigantic partner came meekly over and perched himseif upon the top of a barrel, “What's un?” he asked. “Shares are up,” said his companion. “That's what's up. Look here,” and he extracted a crumpled paper from the pocket of the steam- | ing coat. “Here's the Buckhurst Sentinel. Read thir article—this one here about a pat lead in the Conemara mine. We hold pretty heavily in that concern, my boy. We might | seil out and clear something—but I think we'll | hold on.” | Abe Durton in the meantime was laboriously | spelling out the article in question, following | ihalinae wilisia greatforedngec andr aateos ing under his tawny mustache. “Any news from Buckhurst?” asked Abe, ris- ing and proceeding to extract their supper from the pot. Nothing much,” said his companion. ved Joe has been shot by Billy Reid in ne’s tori raid Abe, with listless interest. gers have been around and stuck | “Bash upthe Rochdale station, ‘They say they are | coming over here.” ‘The miner whistled as he poured some whisky into a jug. nything more?”” he asked. hing of importance except that the blacks have been showing a bit down New Ster- ling way, and that the assayer has bought a’ piano, and is going to have his daughter out from Melbourne to live in th new house opposite on the other side of th road. So you see we are going to have some. thing to look at, my b: he added, as he sat | down and began’ attacking the food set before him. “They ray she is a beauty, Bones.” His partner sud) dropped his knife and _ seemed to listen. Amid the wild uproar of the | wind aud the rain there was a low rumbiing sound which was evidently not dependent upon | the elements. “What's that?” “Darned if T know.” ‘The two men made for the door and peered | out earnestly into the darkness. Far away | along the Buckharst road they could see a mov- | ing Hight, and the dull sound was londer than for “It's a buggy coming down,” said Abe. “Where is it going to?” “Don’t kuow. Across the ford, I s'pose.” “Why, man, the ford will be six feet deep to- night and running like a mill stream.” ‘The light was nearer now, coming rapid! round the curve of the road. "There was a wil sound of galloping with ‘the rattle of the wheels. “Horses have bolted, by thunder!”* “Bad job for the man inside.” “If he don’t pull em up before they reach the ford he's a goner,” remarked Abe Durton, resignedly. Suddenly there came a luil in the sullen splash of the rain. It but fora moment, but in that moment there came down on the breeze along ery, which caused the two men tostartand stare at each other and then to rush frantically down the steep incline toward the road below. “A woman, by heaven!” gasped Abe, as he sprang across the gaping shaft of # mine in the Morgan was the lighter and more active man. He drew away rapidly from his stalwart com- panion, Within a minute he was standing panting and bareheaded in the middle of the soft, muddy road, while his partner was still The carriage was ciose on him now. H could see in the light of the lamps the raw- boned Australian horse, as, terrified by the storm and by its own clatter, it came tearing down the declivity which led to the ford. The man who was driving seemed to see the pale face in the pathway in front of him, for he yelled out some incoherent words of warning, and made a last desperate attempt to pull up. ‘There was a shout, an oath and a jarring crash, and Abe, hurrying down, saw a wild, infuriated horse rearing madly in the air with a slim dark figure -hanging on to its bridle. Bogs, with the keen power of calculation which had made him the finest cricketer at Rugby in his day, had caught the rein immediately below the bit and clung to it with silent concentration. “Hold it, Bones,” he said, as » tall figure buried itelt into the road and seized the other in, “All right, old man, I've got horse, cowed by the sight of a fresh assailant, quieted down and stood shivering with terror. “Get up, Boss, i's safe now. cae a it poor Boss lay groaning m1 “I can't do it, Bones.” ‘There was a catch in the voice as of “There's something wrong, old chap, but don't make sfuss. It's only a shake; give me a lift up.” Abe bent ‘tenderly over his prostrate com- panion. He could see’ that he was very white and breathing with dificulty. “Cheer up, old Boss," be murmured. || “Hullo! my stars!” The last two exclamations were shot ont of Sep honest miner's bosom 90 if me Souple of steps Deckward in sheer amasemest life of me I can't say a word. Tell me, Boss, him;” and the | SATURDAY. ‘APRIL 1, Ba shtouded in’ the echates, ined Sat to Abe's sii soul to be the most Besaeital vince ear arent appeared upon witi's quick. f miatas seers at apes = ‘8 qnick, feminine gesture v Bent her lithe figure over Bose Morgaa’s proc- trate figure. “Why, it’s Abe Durton and his 2 said the driver of the buggy, coming forward and disclosing the grizzled features of Mr. Joshua Sinclair, the assayer to the mines. ‘I don't know how to thank you, boys. The infernal | brute got the bit between his teeth and I should have bad to throw Carrie out and chance it in another minute. That's right,” he continued. as Morgan staggered to his feet. “Not much hurt, I hope.” “I can get up to the hut now,” said the young steadving himself upon his partner's “How are you going to get Miss Sinclair home?” “Ob, we can walk,” said that young lady, shaking off the effects of her fright with all the elasticity of youth. “We can drive and take the road round the bank so as to avoid the ford,” said her father. “The horse seems cowed enough now; you need not be afraid of it. Carrie. I hope we shall see you at the house, both of you. Neither of us can easily forget this night's work.” ‘Miss Carrie said nothing, but she managed to shoot a little demure glance of gratitude from under her long lashes, to have won which honest Abe felt that he would have cheerfully undertaken to stop a runaway locomotive. There was a cheery shout of “good night.” « crack of the whip and the buggy rattled away in the darkness. “You told me the men were rough and nasty, pa,” said Miss Carrie Sinclair, after a long silence, when the tw: ‘ark shadows had died in the distance and the carriage was speed- ing along by the turbulent stream. “I don’t think so. I think they are very nice.” And Carrie was unusually quiet for the remainder of her journey aad seemed more reconciled to the hardship of leaving her dear friend Amelia in the far-off boarding school at Melbourne. ‘That did not prevent her from writing a full, true and particular account of their little ad: venture to the same young lady upon that very night. poor fellow way hurt. And ‘oh, Amy, if vou ad seen the other one ina red shirt, with a pistol at his waist! I couldn't help thinking of you, deur. He was just your ides. You re- member, a yellow mustache and great blue eyes. And how he did stare at poor me! You never see such men in Burke street, Amy,” and so on, for four pages of pretty feminine gos Inthe meantime poor Boss, badly shaken, had been helped up the hill by his partner and regained the shelter of the shanty. Abe doc- tored him out of the rude pharmacopaia of the camp, and bandaged up his strained arm. “They stopped the horse, darling, and one | IL A casual visitor would have noticed a remark- figured the sides of the valley, there was a warn- | ing murmur and a general clearing off of the | do that. cloud of blasphemy, which was, I regre? to | more chi | State, an habitual characteristic of the working Tie Sinclair as she watched his retiring figure population of Harvey's Sluice. Abe had formerly been considered one of the most experienced valuators of an ore in the set- tlement. It had Leen commonly supposed that he was able to estimate the amount of gold in a | fragment of quartz with remarkable exactness. | This, however, was evidently a mistake, other- wise he would never have incurred the useless expense of having so many worthi i mens assayed as he now did. Mr. Joshua Sin- clair found himself inundated with such a flood of fragments of mica and lumps of reck con- taining decimal percentages of the precious metals that he began to form a very low opin- ion of the young man’s mining capabilities. It is certain that, what with professional busi- ness in the morning and social visits at night, the tall figure of the miner was a familiar ob- ject in the little drawing room of Azaiea Villa, the new house of the assayer bad been mag- niloquently named. There was one cloud on Bones’ horizon, and that_was the periodical ap- pearance of Black Tom Ferguson of Rochdale Ferry. This clever young scamp had maneged to ingratiate himself with old Joshua and was constant visitor at the villa. ‘There were evil rumors abroad about Black Tom. He was known to be a gambler and shrewdly suspected tobe worse. Harvey's Sluice was not censo: ons, and yet there was @ general feeling that Ferguson was a man to be avoided, Mise Car- The seemed to hail his appearance as a relief and chatiered away for hours about books aud music and the gayeties of Melbourne.—It on these occasions that poor simple Bones would sink into the very lowest depths of despondency and either elink away or sit glar- ing at his rival with an earnest malignancy which seemed to cause that gentleman no smail musement. ‘The miner made no secret to his admiration which he entertain Sinciair. “That loafer from Rochdale,” he said. “‘he ems to reel it off kinder nat’ral, while for the riner of for Miss what would you say to a girl like that “Why, talk about what would interest her,” ompanion. hb, that's where it lies, ‘alk about the customs of the pl nd the country,” said the Boss, pulling meditatively at his pipe. ‘Tell her stories of what you have seen in the mines and that sort of thing.” Eh? You'd do that, would you?” responded his comrade more hopefully. “If that’s the hang of it fam right. I'll go up now and tell her about Chicago Bill, an’ how he put them two buliets in the man from the bend the night of the dance.” Boss Morgan laughed. ‘hat’s hardly the thing.” he said. “You'd frighten her if you told her that. Tell her | something lighter, you know; something to muse her, something funny.” “Funny?” said the anxious lover, with less confidence in his voice. “How vou and me made Mat Honiahan drunk and put nim in the pulpit of the Baptist Church, and he wouldn't let the preacher in in the morning. How would that do, eh?” “For heaven's sake, don’t say anything of the sort,” said his mentor in great consternation. ‘She'd never speak to either of us again. No, what I menn is that you should tell about the habits of the mines; how men live and work and die there. If she is @ sensible girl that ought to interest he “How they live at the mines? Pard, youare good tome. How they live? There's a thing Tcan talk of as glib as Black Tom or any man. I'll try it on her when I see her.” “By the way,” said his partner, listlesely, ‘ast Keep am’ eye on that “man ’ Ferguson. jatch what he does.”” “I will,” said his companion. And he did. He watched him that ver ‘ight—watched him stride out of the house of the assayer with anger and baffled pride on every feature of hix-handsome swarthy face; watched him clear the garden paling at a bound, pass in long rapid strides down the side of the valley, gesticulating wildly with his hands, and vanish into the bushland beyond. All this Abe Durton watched, and with ® thoughtful look upon his face he relit his pipe and strolled slowly backward to the hut upon the hill. mL March was drawing to s close in Harvey's Sluice, ad the glare and heat of the antipodean summer had toned down into the rich mellow hues of autumn. On that particular morning the stream looked pretty as it meandered down the valley; retty, too, was the long rising upland be- ind, with its luxuriant green co’ , and Prettiest of all was Mies Carrie Sinclair as she laid down her basket of ferns which she was carrying and stopped upon the summit of the rising ground, She stood for some time gazing at the view before her. She glanced at the great mysteri- ous stretch of silgnt bushland beside her. and stooped to pick up her basket with the inten- tion of hurrying along the road in thedirection of the gulches. She started round and hardly suppressed a scream as along red-flanneled arm shot out from behind her and withdrew the basket from her very grasp. ‘The figure which met her eve would to some have seemed little calculated to allay her fears. ‘The high boots, the rough shirt and the broad girdle with its weapons of death were, however, too familiar to Miss Carrie to be objects of ter- ror; and when above them all she saw a pair of | ‘Suddenly his conversation with his | came back into his mind. What was it Boss | had said upon the subject? “Tell her how they live at the mines.” He revolved tt in bis brain. It seemed a curious thing to talk about: but Boss had said it, and Bose was always right | He would take the piunge; so with a premoni- | tory hem he blurted out: | anzBey lire mostly on bacon and beans in the j valley He could not see wha? effect this communica- | tion had upon ius companion. | He was too tail to be able to peer under the little straw bon- net. She did not ans “Mutton on Sunda; Even this failed to aronse any enthusiasm. | In fact, she seemed to be laughing. Boss was | evidently wrong. The young man was in de- |spair. The sight of a ruined hut beside the | pathway conjured up a fresh idea. He grasped at it as a drowning man to a straw. “Lived there till he died. bad and sit by him. Poor chap! he ba and two children in Putney. He'd rave and call me Polly by the hour. He was cleaned out, hadn't a red cent; but the boys collected rough gold enough to see him through. He's buried there in that shaft; that was his claim, 80 we just dropped him down it an’ filled it up. Put down his pick, too, an’ a spade an’ bucket. so’s he'd feel kinder perky and home.” Miss Carrie seemed more interested now. “Do they often die like that?” she asked. “Weil, brandy kills many; but there's more gets dropped—shot, you know.” “I don't mean that. Do many men die alone | and miserable down there, with no one to care for them?” and she pointed to the cluster of | houses beneath them. “Is there any one dying now? it is awfal to think of.” “There's none as I knows on likely to throw up their hand.” “I wish you wouldn't use so much slang, Mr. Darton.” said Carrie. “You know it isn't po- lite. You should get a dictionary and learn the Proper words wife it,” said Bones apologetically. your hand on the proper one. you've not gota steam drill, you've got ut up with the pick.” “Yes, but it’s easy if you really try. You could say that a man was ‘dying,’ or ‘moribund,’ if you like, said the miner enthusiastically. Moribund! That's a word. Why, yoa could lay over Boss Morgan in the matter of words. ‘Moribund!” There's some sound about that.” Carrie laughed. “It's not the sound you must think of, but whether it will express your meaning. Seriously, Mr. Durton, if any one should be allin the camp, you must let me know. I can nurse, and i might be of use. You will, won't you? “And now I must say good morning, Carrie. as they came to the spot whe pathway branched off from the trac up to Azalea Villa. for escorting m leparted in a mixture of many He had interested her. She had spoken kindly to him. But then she had before there was any necessity: ‘he couldn't care much about him if she would | more cheerful, however. had he seen Miss Car- from the garden gate with » loving look upon i her saucy face and a mischievous smile at his | bent head and desponding appearance. The Colonial Bar was the favorite haunt of | the inhabitants of Harvey's Sluice in their hours | of relaxation. There had been a fierce com- petition between it and the rival establish- | ment termed the Grocery, which, in spite of its innocent appellation, aspired also to dis pense spirituous refreshments. The importa tion of chairs into the latter had led to the ap. pearance of a se‘iee in the form Spjttoons | Appeared inthe Grocery agains: a picture in | the Bar, and, as the frequenters expressed it, the honors were even. When, however, the Grocery led a window curiain, aud its oppo- nent returned a enuggery and a mirror. the game was declared to be in favor of the latter, and Harvey's Sinice showed its sense of the spirit of the proprietor by withdrawing its cus- tom from his opponen: Though every man was at liberty to swagger into the Bar itself and bask in the shimmer of |its many-colored bottles, there was a general feeling that the snugse eciul apartment should be reserved for the use of the more i i On this particular evening there was an asserablage of notabilitie. in the snuggery. The rangers were the present eub- ject of discussion. For some few days rumors of their presence had been fiying about and an si€ecling had porraded the colony. A fresh impetus had been given to the panic yy the report just brought in by Jim Straggles. jim was of an ambitious and aspiring tura of mind, and after gszing in silent disgust at his ‘Si i last week’s clean-up he had metaphorically | | sbaken the clay of Harvey's Sluice from his feet and had started off into the woods with the in- tention of prospecting round until he couid bit | upon some likely piece of ground for himself. Jim’s story was that he was eitting upon a fallen j trunk eating his midday damper and rusty | bacon, when his trained ear hud ewugit the | clink of horses’ hoofs. He had hardly time to take the precaution of rolling off the tree and crouching down behind it before @ troop of | men came riding down throagh the bush and | posted within a stone's throw of him. | “There was Bill Smeaton and Murphy Duff.” said Struggies, naming two notorious ruffians; “and there was three more that I couldn't rightly see. And they took the trail to the | right and looked Hike business all over, with | their guns in their hand: Jim was submitted to a searching eross-exam- ination that evening, but nothing could shake his testimony or throw a further light upou what he had seen. There were a few, however, who were loudly skeptical as to the existence of the rangers, and the most prominent of these was a young man who was perched ona barrel in the center of the room, and wasevidently one of the leading | spirits in the commu We have already seen that dark curling hair, lack-luster eve and | thin, cruel lip, in the person of Black Tom “It’s always the same,” he said; “if a man meets a few travelers in the bush, he’s bound to come back raving about rangers. If they'd seen Struggles there, they would have gone off atree. As to recognizing people riding mong tree trunks—it is an impossibility Something seemed to be on his mind, too. for occasionally he would spring off his perch and pace up and down the room with an ab- stracted and very forbidding look upon his swarthy face. It was a relief to every one when, suddenly catching up his hat and wish- ing the company a curt “good nizht,” be Nalked off through the bar and into the street mi hind fe modem Kinder pat out,” remarked Long ‘oy. “He can’t be afeard of the rangers, surely,” said Joe Shamus, another man of consequence, and principal shareholder of the El Dorado. “No, he's not the man to be afraid, answered another. “There's something queer about him th®last day or two. He's been long trips in the woods without any tools. They do say that the assayer's duughter has chucked him over. “Quite right, too. A darned sight too for him,” remarked several voices “It’s odds but he has another try,” said Shamus. ‘He's a hard man to beat when he's set his mind on a thing.” “Abe Durton’s the horse to win,” re- marked Houlahan, a little, bearded ’Irish- man. “It’s sivin ‘to four I'd be wiilin’ to lay on him.” “And you'd be afther losing your money, want more brains than ever Bones had in his skuil. you bet.” 10's seen Bones today?” asked McCoy. “T've seen him,” said the miner. “He came round all through the camp asking for # dictionary—wanted to write a letter likely.” “Isaw him readin’ it,” seid Shamus. “He came over to me an’ told me he'd struck some- thing good at the fit show. Showed mo a word about as long as your arm—‘abdicate.” or ‘somet “9 “It’s a rich man he is now, I suppose,” said the Irishman. “Well, he's about made his pile. He holds » hundred feet of the Conemara, and the shares go upevery hour. If he'd sell out, he'd be about fit “Guess to go home.” he wants to take somebody home “Cockney Juck built that,” he remarked. | I think he might have felt a little | Ferguson, the rejected suitor of Miss Sinclair. | with a long yarn about a ranger crouching be- | a-vich,” said a young man with a laugh. “She'll | ] with him,” said another. “Old Joshua wouldn't object, seein’ that the money is there.”” think it has been already recorded in this narrative that Jim Straggies, the wandering prospector. had gained the reputation of being the wit of the camp. He bad been in silence over some idea since the departure of Ferguson. and he now proceeded to evolve it to his expectant companions. “Say, bovs,” he began. “It's the first o° April." I've got a calendar in the hut as Sd several voices. “Well. don’t you see, it’s All Fools? day. Couldn't we fix up some little Joke on some one. eh? Couldn't we geta laugh ont of it? there's old Bones, for imstance; he'll smell a rat. Couldn't we s where and watch him go, something to chai him o jal ev ad him off some- maybe? f We'd have ® month tocome, Where shall we send him’ |_ Jim Straggles was buried in thought for = | moment. Then an unballowed inxpiration | #eemed to come over him, and he laughed up- rubbing his’ hands between his knees in the excess of his delight. “Well, what is it?” asked the eager audience. ‘See here, boys, There's Miss Sinclair. You was saving as Ab her. She don't fancy him much, him a note—send it him tonight, you know.” Vell, what then?” said MeCoy. was the query. | Pat her name at the bottom. Let on as she | Wants him to come an’ meet her in the garden at 12 He's bound to go. He'll think she wants to go off with him. thing played this year.” There was a roar of approved of unanimously. “Here's pencil and here's paper, humorist. “Who's goin’ to thi “Write it yourself, Jim,” said Shamus, “Well, what she ay “Say what vou think night.” don't know how she'd pat it." said Jim, scratching his head in great perplexity. “How. Bones will never know the differ. How said the letter?” will this do? ‘Dear old man. Cometo the gar- den at 12 tonight, else Il never speak to you | again. “No, that’s not the style.” miner. “Mind, she’s a lass put it kinder dowery “Well, write it y« handing tim over th “This 1s the sort of thing, tening the ¥ hen the moor here it 1s, That's bulls from the com- And the stars a-shin meet me, Adolphus, b; “His name ain't eri "bright, meet, O the garden gateat 12. Adolphus,” objected hat’s how the poetry comes in,” said the miner. ‘It’s kinder fanciful, d’ye see. Sou a darned sight better than Abe. © Trust hi guessing who she means. I'll sign it Carrie, There!” This epistle was gravely passed round the from hand to hand and reverentially gazed 1 as being a remarkable prejnction of the brain. It was then folded up and com- “d to the care of a small boy, who was . Suppose we write | “Weil, pretend the note is from her, d’ye see? | Iti be the biggest | laughter. The plan was ds | tree and walked confidently toward the gate. Boss Morgan and Abe were crouching dowm under the shadow of the hedge at the very ex- treme end of the narrow passace. Ther were invimibie to the rangers, who evidently reckoned, on meeting little resistance in this irolated house. As the first man came forward and half turned to give some orders to his comrades both the friends recognized the stern profile and heavy mustache of Black Ferguson, the re- | jected suitor of Miss Carrie Sinclair, Honest | ‘Abe made a mental vow that be at least should | Rever reach the door alive. The rufian stepped up to the gate and pub hisband upom the latch. He started as @ #tentorian “Stand back!” came thundering oat from among the bushes. In war, as in love, the miner was a man of few words. There's no road this way,” explained another voice with an infinite sadness and gentleness about it which was characteristic of the owner when the devil was rampant im Tanger recognized it soul, The armbered the soft list Buekbrrst ¥ the mild orate door, drawing a den He nger arper who would dare “It's that infernal fool said, “and his white-faced friend.” Both were well known names in the country round. But the rangers were reckless and | desperate men. They drew up to the gate bods. “Clear out of that!” said th: . grim whisper: ~Fou can't save che girl Go off with whole skins wiuile vou have the chance.” The partners laughs “Then, curse you, come on | The gate was flung open and the party fred | straggling volley and made a tierce rush toward | the graveled waik The revolvers cracked merrily in the silence of the night from the bu bh his arn . writhing horribly im th was hardly am th d ptan rushed | madly on, lackcuard as he wns, energy wis comrades with the ning from his shattered jaw, for cursing cut short nt the very moment when be needed to draw npo his capac: 2 thy There rif ther could ters. What Abe > pa ack Ferguson nd as well us he did. He ran nd the tive crashed solemniy charged, under dire threats, to de- pearance of | yvand to make off ‘before stions were asked bim. It hike d disappeared in the dark- r to tcompunction visited one ures in playing it rather low on thé girl?” | from well- | said Shemus. | i of Harves's | “And rough on old Bones?” suggested an- | * Y prae However, these objections were overruled by | the majority and disappeared entirely upon the appearance of a second jorum of whisky. The matter had almost been forgotten by the time that Abe had r his note and was spelling it ont with a palpitating heart under the light of his solitary candle. v. That night has long been remembered in i] | Harvey's Sluice. A fitral breeze was sweeping | down from the distant mountains, moaniag and sighing among tho deserted claims. A great | loneliness seemed to rest on the face of nature. Men remarked afterward on the strange eerie atmosphere which hung over the little town. It was in the darkness that Abe Durton sallied | ont from his little shanty. His partner, Boss | Morgan, was still absent in the bush, so that, beyond the ever-watchfal Blinky, there was no living being to observe his movements, A feeling of mild surprise filled his simple soul tha: his angel's delicate fingers had formed those great stragzling hieroglypbics; however, there was the name at the foot, and that |enough for him. She wuuted him, no matter | for what, and with « heart as pure and as bi ja any knight errant, this rough miner went | forth at the summons of his love. | Ho groped his way up tl track whicn led to Azi | paused under the shade of the trees and then weep winding Villa. The miner | althan the j ‘The par them Shamus, There was a despera’ had cote to # ringing out amingle dark siadow flyin gallantly te simple i through his lungs. He was carried inside with sli the rough tea- rness of the mines. Ti e men there, I think, who would have be the love of that whi hurt to have t figure, which bed wd whispered in bis ear. Hier voice seemed to rouse bim. He opened bis dre bine eves and looked about nim, They resed on her face. ~Viayed ont,” be murmured; “pardon, Carrie, morib and with a fnint smile be sani back upon the pillow. However, Abe tailed for once as bis w Whether it ds which came man have proved « was the balmy air of eweeping « thousand miles of forest nto moved on to garden gate. There | Sweeping over a i: as ae oan Shel He was, evidently | the sick mun's room. or whether it was the [rather early. Tho moon was shining |H#tle nurse who tended him so gentiy, certain brightly tow, and the country round | 2 is that within two months we heard that |was as clear’ as day. Abe loosed past | be had realized his shares in the Couemaraand | the little villa at the road which ran iike a white | Winding streak over the brow of the hill watcher behind could by letic figure standi he gave a start ws ic he aad been shot and stag- gered up against the little gate beside him. |. He had ren something which caused even | his sunburned face to become # shade paler as | he thouzht of the girl so near him. Justat the | bend of the road, not 200 vards away, he saw | dark movin mass coming round the curve a Jost in the shadow of the hill. It was bat for moment; yet in tha: moment the quick percep- | tion of the practiced woodman had realized the | whole situs It wasaband of horsemen bound for the villa, and what horsemen would ride so by might save the terror of the wood- | Iunds—the dreaded of the bush? It is true that o: | as sluggish in his invellect as he was heavy in movements. Inthe hour of danger, however, he was as remarkable for cool deliberation as ompt and decisive action, As he ad- 4 up the garden he rapidly reckoned up the chances st him. There were half a dozen of the asscilunts, at the most moderate computation, all desperate and fearless men. 1estion was whether he could keep them | for ashort time and prevent their fore- ing a passave into the house. We have already menzioned that sentinels had been piaced im the main street of the town, Abe reckoned that help would be at hand within ten minutes of the firing of the first shot. * | Were he inside the house he could confidently | reckon on holding his own for a longer period | than that. Before he could rouse the sleepers jand gain admission, however, the rangers | would be upon him. He must content himself with doing his utmost. At any rate he would show Carrie that, if he could not talk to her, he could at least die for her. ‘The road along which the rangers were com- ing ended ata wooden gate opening into the upper part of the assayer's little garden. This gate had a high acacia hedge on either side of it, and opened into a short walk also lned by impassable thorny walls. Abe knew the well. One resolute man might, he thought, hold the passage for a few minutes until the assailants broke through elsewhere and took him in the rear. At any rate it was his best chance. He passed the front door, but forbtre togive any alarm. Sinclair was’ an elderly man, and would be of little assistance in such a desperate straggle as was before him, and the appearance of lights in the house would warn the rangers of the resistance awaiting them. Oh, for his partner, the Boss, for Chicago Bill. for any one of twenty gallant men who would have come to his cail and stood by him in such pathway. There was the well-remembered wooden gate and there, perched upon the gate, languidly swinging his legs backward and for- ward and ing down the road in front of | him was Mr. Jon Morgan, the very man for | whom Abe had been longing’ from the bottom | of his heart. There was short time for ex- | planations. A few hurried words announced | that the Boss, returning from his little tour, had come across the rangers riding on theit mission of darkness, and, overbearing their destination. had managed by hard running and | knowledge of the country to arrive before |them. “‘No time to alarm any one,” he ex- plained, still panting from his exertions, “‘must stop them ourselves; not come for swag—come ‘for your girl Only over our bodies, Bones,” and with these few broken words the # iy assorted friends shook hands. and looked lor- | ingly into each other's eyes, while the tramp of | the horses came down to them on the fragrant | breeze of the woods. ary occasions Abe was | He turned into the narrow wooden | from I Ro rvey's Sluice and the little shanty upon the hill forever. | “Thad the advantages short seeing an ext AY me afterward of | indy uaze easaa! alte « of our narrativ We have already broken the privacy of one tie, £0 we shail Lave fewer scruples at another, “I was bridemaid,” ‘and Carrie looked charming® im the veil and orange blossoms. Such man he is. ce us big as your Jack, ad dropped > Too gentle to those rougu men, m sure.” I think it quite posible that an the fullness of time Miss Amelia managed to take upou herself the care of oar old fmend Mr. Jack. Morgan, commonly kno’ ooo A Farmer's Advice to Mr. Hayes. | Prom the Detroit Pree The story is told that the late R. B, Hayes had for a neighbor in Ohio a testy old fellow who ran a sinall cruck farm. He was honest and up- rightand Mr. Haves beld bia in high esteem notwithstanding his lack of the social amenities and respect for persons, On one of his visits to Obio during the presidency hw passed the old man’s farm and found him planting potatoes ina patch near the road. The President. being somewiat of «farmer himself, noticed soins peculiarity in his neigubor's style of plantin and, after « few minuves’ chat, he called his ttention to it and the old man argued the point | a while. | “After all,” concluded the President, “£ j don’t think vou are doing itas it should be done for the best results.” The old farmer rested bis arm on the fence | and looked steadily at Mr. Haves. “They ain't neither one of us,” be smd, | “above havin’ feult found with ux, but ef you jest goon Presidentin the United States your war an’ I go pertaters my way I gu Mi tly and passed on. de: m plantia we won't be no wuss off in the end.” . Hayes accepted the suggestion pleas- ses Method in His Remedy. ‘The introduction in our cities of apartment | houdes, in which « considerable number of fam- ilies we under one roof, bus g.ven rise to many | amusing occurrences, says Youth's Companion, In an eastern city, recently, two physicians were walking together on the street when one | of them lifved bis hat to a lady whom they | A pationt?” asked the other. “Oh, in a way,” answered the first doctor. Tteeoted her other day for + small difi- “And what did you preseribe?” ae oe : The other doctor was astonished. “Ordered | j bee fo eve ett ay the piano—for s wart —Soneut can't understand your “If you knew the circumstances you would,” said the first doctor. “he occupies the fiat just under mine, in the ‘boure.” “Ab—now [ !" uid the other, THE FUR BOA AND THE GUST OF WIND, OB, A COMBINATION THAT PRODUCED A REFORM.