Evening Star Newspaper, January 6, 1894, Page 20

HEN I, A VERY young subaltern,first joined my regiment (the Royal Manx Fu- sileers), the depot had been for some six months stationed County Longford, Ireland. I suppose my brother officers had by that time con- trived to exhaust all the resources of the neighborhood in the way of amusement, for on my arrival I found them reduced to three topics of con- versation. First, snipe shooting-a bog with a bird in it lying within reach. Sec- ond, the sayings and doings of the three Misses McCran; dazzling beauties, daugh- ters of the local solicitor, who kept a “car’ge” and resided in a stucco villa with “Castellamare” painted on the little green gate, on which the manly forms of two or more of the Royal Manx were generally to be seen lounging—in conversation with the lovely Gerl'dine or Norah. Third, Maj. Marillier’s monkey, and why he kept it. ‘The snipe became a bore now and then; on’ interest in Geri'dine’s bewitching Irishisms or Norah's conquests might even flag occasionally; but the mention of Con- go’s name or of his latest iniquity brought excitement into our flattes: moments di- rectly. Congo was a beautiful little creature, with long, soft fur, dark face and paws, and gentle, mournful eyes, the temper of a wild cat and the morals of an imp of darkness. He was suposed to reside in a house, made of a wine case, in the room of Carmody, the major’s servant; but, except for the purpose of secreting his plunder in the straw, never was found there by any chanct. . Every device that he mind of man’ could conceive, and Carmody hit upon a fresh one once a week at least, failed to secure him. He bit through leather and rope, untied knots, picked locks, dislocated chains and always ended by flying like a demon spider up and down every passage and staircase in the place—Carmody swear- ing In his wake—till he gained some coign of vantage whence it was impossible to dislodge him. To appr-ciate the situation one should have Known the major. He was a sedate and dignified personage, about forty, very quiet and rather precise and “old-maidish” in his ways. 1 always suspected that he considered himself created by nature to be the regular pattern of the British officer and gentieman, and intended his dress, demeanor and conversation to be instructive studies for us youngsters—eacn was so perfect in its way. 1 can’t imagine why we didn’t detest him. 1 think we were father proud of him and considered him a credit to the regiment. He was a thorough- ly good, kind-hearted fellow au fond, and it ‘was generally understood that he could if he chose do everything better than anybody else. He didn’t often choose, and generally held aloof from our sports and pastimes, not only refusing to enter his horse for our steeplechase, but actually declining to lend him to Miss Norah McCran for the same occasion. His dress was a study of cut and color, from the parting of his hair to the toes of his boots; but I think his rooms impressed ™me most—such a combination of military Precision with feminine prettinesses; tro- phies of warlike weapons; lace flounces to his shelves and chimney board; tiger skins, erewel work, antimacassars, military mod- els and plans, and old china. He had some Valuable engravings and photographs about, and over the fireplace hung a water color sketch,“‘Brockwood,” Leicestershire—a mag- nificent old baronial residence—which, with- out the slightest foundation for the idea, we all agreed to be the major’s birthplace or inheritance, of which he had been some- how wrongfully deprived. There was also a big writing table, sur- rounded by laden book shelves, at which he spent most of his spare time, elaborating and revising his great work on tactics, of which we were wont to speak with respect- ful admiration. Now imagine over tnis scene of peaceful propriety a four-armed fiend rampaging, leaving destruction in his train; playing all manne: of impish pranks, hiding a bottle of “Briciantine,” carefully uncorketl, in the major’s boots; swallowing every stud he possessed under the delusion they were bon bons; or bombarding him with freshly corrected proof sheets crum- pled and chewed into pellets—and you'll have some notion of the never-failing zest the existence of Congo gave to life in Bally- noggin. Why did he keep it? Some of Congo's performances turned h‘m livid with rage, but they never drove him to condemning the brute to exile or execu- tion. “Every man has his pet extravagance,” he was wont to say, smiling serenely. “1 suppo¥e Congo is mine.” I never but once saw Maj. Mariliier nearer to being excited than when a rumor arose that Congo was lost. He wasn’t, the beast! He had as many hiding holes as a magpie. My bed was ore, and there he was found (in company with Carmody’s blacking brush, one of the ma- jor’s immaculate gaiters, and the big owl's head with the red glass eyes that used to adorn Miss Lavinia McCran’s hat) just in time to prevent his master from bursting into tears, or offering £100 reward, either of which seemed imminent. What did it mean? We speculated, argued, betted, nearly fought over it, so disproportionate grew the excitement in the dull stagnation of our lives in Ballynoggin, and got no nearer the truth. Once the solution of the enigma seemed within our grasp—thanks to Mr. Terence O'Flaherty. He was a local “squtreen,” proprietor of the before-mentioned bog, whom, in default of other society, we used to invite contin- ually to mess. He was heavy enough when sober; later on, great on home rule and the departed glories of Ireland and his family, “the fight- in’ Flahertys,” duelists of note in the brave days of old when Castle Flaherty was Kept up in princely style, and “the clar’t in the cellars would have flooded the country for thiles round.” O'Flaherty was mixing himself some whis- ky and water one evening before departing, romancing the while gloriously, when sud- denly a black figure descended with a swing and a bound from somewhere, alighting on O’Fiaherty’s shoulders. Congo, of course. He clawed fast to O'Flaherty’s hair with one hand, and plunged the other into the scalding~ brew, presumably in search of sugar; then, chattering wrathfully, upset the boiling mixture on O’Flaherty’s legs and vanished with a lock of hair. O’Flaherty’s language was forcible; well it misht be. Marillier apologized in the handsomest manner, but the blood of the descendant of “the fightin’ Flahertys” was up, and mere words had no power to ap- Pease hii He demanded the instant execution of Cong®, or the satisfaction of a gentleman. “Are these your only alternatives?” asked the major, gravely. “They are,” blustered Terence. “Then I accept the latter,” said Marillier, unhesitatingiy. “You're a gentleman, bedad!” exclaimed OFiaherty, suddenly sobered. “And if you think that dirty little baste worth fizhtin’ about. Terence O’Flaherty’s not the man to begrudge you the pleasure. Still, I'd be ready to overlook it, and let bygones be bygones. if you'd give me one single dacent reason for keeping the bas A pause, during which we all grew breath- less with excitement. Marillier looked as imperturbable as ever. “If one reason will afford you satisfaction, Mr. O'Flaherty, I don’t see how I can in fairness refuse you. I keep the beast because—I expect him some day to be worth 0 a year to me.” And that was all we ever got out of him. T got leave in January, and started home- ward joyfully. My fath er had teen promoted to a good| high, shaky voice from the bed. living in the country since I left home, and the first week of my visit was spent in sée- ing and being seen. My sisters Freda and Gertie trotted me all over the place, dis- Playing the church, the cow, the pet oid women, the schools, the new pony trap and the points of view. respect and consideration that was entirely novel, and for which I suspected I had to thank my uniform (which I had been im- plored to bring with me), but which was, revertheless, gratifying. It was all very pleasant and home-like, and I quite forgot how very much in love with Nora McCran I begun to be one short week ago in Ballynoggin. My mother, in the pride of her heart, took me to pay visits with her all over the country, so that when the first Sunday came round, I felt quite intimate with at least half the congregation. “Who was the funny old lady in a yel- low bonnet and furs, sitting under the pul- pit?” I asked after dinner. “Miss Corbett of Brockwood,” said my mother. “You know we called there on Thursday, but she was out.”” “And the little nigger with her?” “Oh! That's a rea! African prince, her latest pet, son of Oke Jumbo, King of Bon- ny. self, and the missionaries had no end of trouble to steal this one for her, as she in- sisted on his being of good family,” Gertte explained. “She's wild about pets,” Freda continued, nd she changes them once a fortnight, at least. The place was just like the parrot house at the Zoo once, when we first came, and the next thing we heard of her was that Dr. Burnaby was furious at being sent for one winter night to see her kangaroos. The climate wasn’t agreeing with them. She kept tame snakes once, and they es- caped and were never found. No one dared cross the park for months after, as they | were supposed to be hiding there.” I heard a good deal more about Miss Cor- | bett’s eccentricities befure long. She had taken a violent liking to my father, ana used to send for him constantly, much to Freda’s disgust, as she had to drive him to Brockwood—“‘the man,” a compound of gardener, butler and coachman, being in- valided. The old lady's gravest considera- | tion in life was the disposal of her large property, which was absolutely under her control. Her prospective heirs were as nu- merous as her pets, and nearly as often changed. “She'll end by dying intestate or leaving everything to the county charities,” my father used to say on coming home from ene of the numerous interviews he had with her on the subject. “She ought, in common decency, provide for her faithful old ser- vants and that unlucky little African in her lifetime, and so I told her.” Next day it was, “Well, I think the old lady has made up her mind at last. She has sent for her nephew from London—her natural heir—and made a will in his favor. It is all very right and nice. I[ saw it sign- ed and witnessed,and the old one destroyed; that is her regular custom before she signs new one.” is ‘What's the new one like?” asked Gertie. “Has he come?” “Oh, such a horror!’ broke in Freda,“‘looks like a little Jew tradesman—and his manners are insufferable. I shan't go near Brock- wood again during Mr. Jonathan Marillier’s ste Narillier!” Texclaimed. “I thought i had met with Brockwood before, but couldn't ine where.” i imeenat on earth are you talking about’ the girls together, aroma When I had done Freda be- gan: “That’s the very Major Marillier that poor Miss Patty Payne—Miss Corbett’s com- panion—is always telling me about. Yes, he’s a cousin, a distant one, and four years ago was here on a visit. Miss Patty goes into wild raptures about him on small pro- vocation. He wi very kind to her, poor forlorn little woman. Miss Corbett was de- lighted with him at first, and then quarrel- ed furiously with him. I believe he use disrespectful language about her monkey. “The monkey!” J shouted. “Why, yes, she had one for a pet just then, a nasty, thieving, mischievous creat- ure. Every one hated it, and it ended by costing poor Major Marillier Brockwood. Miss Patty doesn’t know exactly what the quarrel was about—but Miss Corbett called him a swindler and a time-serving hypocrite one day at dinner, and he got up, said good- bye to her quite politely, and left the place at once. His luggage was seft after him— and the monkey. He left orders with the butler that if ever it was to be disposed of. he’d like it. Next day Miss Corbett did nothing by cry and moan after him—saying he had deserted her, and that the monkey should be hanged—so Parker, the butle:, took it away, and sent it off to Major Maril- Mer without telling her.” When Freda stopped, I began my story, and had the satisfaction of seeing all the ily as puzzled as myself. a wish Four friend could be induced to make some advances to Miss Corbett,” said my father. “I'm sure he would have a good chance of the succession.” “That Marillier will never do,” I replied, emphatically. “He's not that sort of man.” “It's a shame!” said Freda, indignantly. “T'll speak to Miss Corbett myself tomor- row; I know she likes me. No! you shall go and tell her what a fine fellow her cousin | is. We'll drive over together.” That interview never came off. Once only in our lives were Miss Corbett and 1 des- timed to meet. From the moment of Mr. Jonathan Marillier’s arrival, all outsiders like ourselves were gently and unobtrusively kept from approaching the poor old woman, who looked feebler and shakier every Sun- day. Poor Miss Patty’s eyes and nose bore signs of much weeping, and we heard of new pets being adopted. One night came 2 furious peal) at the bell, and a mounted groom delivered a note from Miss Patty begging my father to come with- out delay. “I'll drive you,” { called out to him, plunging into some clothes; and in a quarter of an hour we were on’ the road, greatly wondering what had caused the summons. Lights were in the Brockwood windows as we drove up. “One!” clang™ from the tall clock tower over our heads as we passed under the echoing archway that led to the big hall. Brockwood was a rambling old red sandstone pile, smothered in ivy, looking gloomy and ghost-ridden enough’ by day- light, but positively grewsome in the small hours. I was left by Parker, who shook his head dolefully when I inquired after his mistress, with one candle,in a spacious vault of a dining room, surrounded by grim por- traits of dead and gone Corbetts, staring out white from their dingy backgrounds. The gloom and the stillness grew so appall- ing that I fairly jumped when the door sud- denly opened, admitting a truly awful ap- Farition—a figure with disheveled black ringlets, in a shawl-pattern dressing gown, carrying a bed room candlestick. “Mr. Marillier, I presume,” I retained suf- ficient composure to remark. “Yes, I'm Mr. Marillier, Miss Corbett’s nephew. I've not the pleasure of your ac-| quaintance,sir, and at any other time should be happy to make it; but for a stranger to be here just now is—you must excuse my saying it—a—a species of intrusion.” “Miss Corbett sent an imperative sum- mons to my father,” I repiied. “Most extraordinary! A very extraordi- nary proceeding. I am Miss Corbett’s natu- ral guardian and protector—I'’m her nephew. She only took the name of Corbett with the property. Dear, dear! Rhoda ought to have been hére now; a lady can be of so much use—such a pity to have brought your fa- ther here at this time of night! And Dr. Burnaby refuses to allow me to see my aunt. Rhoda should have been here, but our baby—our ninth—is only four days old— or she should certainly have been with her | dear aunt. Dear, dear, it’s such a pity to| detain you her and so on he maundered, in a querulous monotone, while I listened to the clock chiming the quarters and won- dered whatever was going on. Mr. Jonathan Marillier had talked himself to sleep in his arm chair when my father entered hastily. “Tom, my boy, we want you at once,” anc he hurried me off. “Most extraordinary freak of the dear old lady’s! She has made a new will leaving £20,000 to me! At least I'm to have the life interest and then it's to go to Freda! She has taken a fancy to her. I can’t witness the will, of course, so we want you. The rest of the money goes to the county charities, as I expected. i.oth- ing to that man down stairs.” We entered Miss Corbett’s room. The old lady sat upright in bed, supported by weep- ing Miss Patty. In the gloom I could just discover a pair of very bright eyes looking out of a hatchet face, surrounded by vo- luminous frillings. Parker and the old housekeeper were present and the doctor. On the hearth several sheets of torn blue paper smoldered—the previcus will, I sup- posed. The new one,with writing materials, Was on a table near the bed. “Do just what she tells you,” whispered the doctor; “any discussion or excitement may be fatal. She is quite rational; I can testify to that. “Is that your son, Mr. Rivers?’ asked a “Then give me the pen. Quick!” she gasped a lit- tle—“quick! See here!” Parker held the light while she made a shaky but perfectly legible “Annabella.” A tap came at the r; she threw th 2 down. “It’ ell murder me!” and then fell back speechless. It was Mr. Jonathan Marillier. We hus- tled him out with scant ceremony and re- turned to the bed. Dr. Burnaby shook hig head—“It’s a question of moments now,” and as he spoke Miss Corbett’s head fell back on the pillow. Miss Patty broke into a loud fit of sobbing; the unsigned will slipped from the bed and fell at my feet, a useless heap of waste paper, and in that moment Brockwood and all belonging to it passed from the poor old lady’s hands into | the grasp of Mr. Jonathan Marillier. My father behaved splendidly. No allu- sion to his loss ever passed his lips. He of- ficlated at the funeral, of course. I went, and found myself in the same carriage with ‘They treated with a| She wanted a heathen to convert, her- | a brisk young solicitor from London, repre- senting the firm employed by Miss Corbett. “He's an awful cad, that Marillier,” said | Mr. Harry Blew, discussing his client with |engaging frankness—‘‘the meanest little screw I ever met with. I hope he'll with- draw his business from us, that’s all. Think of his disputing the servants’ claims | to a month's wages, and recommending us | to send that poor little black prince to the Union. He makes me sick, he does. I can’t stand him much tonger. I must stay down here till affairs are wound up, though. Lucky for me the major’s come.” aj. Marillier from Ireland?” es; didn’t you see him? He’s here, man, monkey and all. His affectionate cousin isn’t overjoyed to have him, but he seems a cool hand, says he'll stay a week, and evidently doesn’t mean to be turned out before he chooses.” Blew went on to tell me that there had been a careful search made for a will, though to a moral certainty none existed, | Miss Corbett’s ways being well known. r. Jonathan Marillier took possession in due course. Mr. Blew extorted some con- cessions from him by representing that his conduct would be severely criticised by “the county,” and as Jonathan quite in- nded starting in life as a social magnate, “as soon as Rhoda could travel.” he was amenable to reason. f He actually asked us to dinner one day before Maj. Marillier departed. should say that the major spent a fair share of his time at the rectory, and was deeply touched at hearirg of Freda’s narrow es- cape of heiress-ship. We found the party to consist of Mr. Blew, the Marillier cousins, ourselves and Lord Allonby, a big, jovial squire of the old school The dinner was magnificent, worthy of the display of family plate which attended it. Parker waited—under protest; in fact, it was only out of consideration for arillier that he condescended to re- main under the same roof with Mr. Jona- than, he informed me. It was a dismal ceremony. The cousins were barely on | speaking terms. Blew looked bored, Al- lonby hungry and the major grave and curiously absent. Jonathan was captious and argumentative when he wasn’t boastful, talking of the changes that would be made “when the Place had a master.’ “Where's that pineapple?” he suddenly asked. Parker looked slightly confused, but re- plied with dignity, “An accident has hap: | pened to it, I believe, sir, but I'll inquire. | “What has become of it? I insist on | knowing!” Parker had disappeared, but one of the footmen replied “The monkey, sir—" “I'll not stand broke out Jonathan. “It's always ‘that monkey,’ whatever hap- pens! Yesterday it was the sugar tongs, old family plate, heirlooms; today, the dessert! How any man can reconcile it with Kis sense of what is honest—simply honest—to be the means of making away with another man’s property, I can’t con- | cetv So he fumed-—the major the while peeling a pear with supreme indifference. The whole big suite of rooms—yellow drawing room, blue drawing room, music room, boudoir and conservatories—was | INuminated for our benefit, but was all too harrow to inclose the explosive elements of our party. Blew and I at last walked the major out through the conservatory on to the ter- race. It was a warmish February night— such things do befall now and then—and a blazing moon. We walked backward and | forward for a turn or two, and then leaned \ over the balustrade, looking at the expanse of lawn and shrubbery, and the woods | beyond all wonderfully clear and distinct in the white. still light. Suddenly a spec- tral outline flew over the lawn, followed by a very tantial figure in hot pursuit. claimed Mari!lier and I simul- taneously. ‘Doesn't it recall Ballynoggin?” Congo it was, He dodged Carmody round and round the fountain, and then—attract- ed, I presure, by the brilliant range of lighted windo made for the terrace, came up and over the side in three swarm- ing leaps, chattered a recognition of his master, and then, to make all safe, seized | @ trailing bough of ivy and swung himself aloft up to the ornamental stone work | above one of the windows. Up came Carmody. “It's the housekeeper’s best bonnet, yer honor! She's just dancin’ n.ad after him.” he parted. Congo proceeded to dissect a mangled | mass of black stuff, part of which seemed | composed of giant grapes made evidently of some inedible substance, for, after tast- | ing one, Congo wrenched off and cracked | the others spitefully till he took to pelting “Blew with them. | Marillier meanwhile was talking to Car- | mody. | “There they ere, meady enough, I'll be bound, sor,” I heard the latter reply. “Two | fine active boys, and ladther enough to go | up a church steeple, let alone the roof.” | “And@ lanterns?” Marillier asked. J thought it rather an expenditure of force if they only wished to recover the bonnet, now hopelessly demolished. Congo had put it on, and Allonby, who had just come out, Was shouting with laughter. “Very well, very well, Maj. Marilliey said Jonathan's voice at the window. “I found my servants in new mourning on: I can't be expected to replace your brute’ Here his remarks were cut short by Con- 0,who made one leap on to his head, and a second into the rvom. Marillier rang after him. He sped like lightning through the whole sulte of rooms, across the hall, and into the deserted dining room. Here, when we came up with him, we found him ravaging the table, his cheek stuffed with preserved fruits and nuts. Allonby tried | to throw a napkin over him, but this only produced a ilerce chatter, and the creature, now seriously scared, kicking over the epergne, raced back as he had come, out on the terrace, up the ivy, appearing for one moment grinning over the battlemented parapet, the next high on the ridge tiles of the roof against the sky. “Shoot him! shrieked Jonathan, half frantic. “He's got the® nut-crackers! A sovereign to the man who gets a gun and | brings him down." | “I'll give ten to any man who can bring him back alive!” shouted the major. |. “Here you are, sir!” sang out a gardener’s | boy, hurrying forward with a ladder on his shoulder, He placed it against the wall, | and up he went. Up went Carmody with a jlantern swinging in his teeth. Up went | Maj. Marillier, shouting, “Come along— | Some one—Blew or Rivers! Up went all, followed by two men with additional lengths of ladder, stirred by a simultaneous impulse of frolic, to join the mad game of follow my leader (and that | leader Congo) over the roof of Brock wood, There can never have been a weirder |scene under the stars than that monkey hunt. Brockwood looked as big as a smail village by the half-light. The roof ran up into countless peaks and ridges, now and | then descending sheer into abysses of | blackness, now opening into great wide | plains of lead roofing, with treacherous pit- | | e ce falls of skylights. The great stacks of chimneys cast black shadows across our way; an owl flapped out at us; lights began to flit about excitedly in the Windows that overlooked our course; the servants turned out on the watch for Congo's descent, and we four lunatics in evening dress ran, hal- loed, slipped, scrambled and pertled our necks more times than we cared to count, without the smallest chance of ever com- ing up with our quarry unless by his own good pleasure. Carmody, in good training from long practice, kept well up; then the boy, an ex-slater, it appeared; then we four at varying distances. Jonathan Maril- ler had taken heart of grace, and ascended, but contented himself with surveying us froin a distance. | Congo took it easy; now and then disap- pearing entirely into some hiding hole among the chimneys. When he did so, I noticed that ey, marked the place before dislodging him. | “At last, after a steady run of fifteen minutes, he seemed to conclude that it was time to dispense with our attendance, and accordingly made for “home.” We could hardly keep him in view as he flew up to a higier level and round to the front of the house, then up the steep slant of the roof of the big jall, and with a mighty leap gained an arched opening at the top the clock-tower. : Peaenane gave a wild “‘Hurroo” of tri- umph and was after him like a cat. Congo danced and defied him madly. He was safe until we could get the ladders up. At last they came, also Jonathan. The gardener’s boy swarmed up first, but retreated in dis- may fiom a vigorous orslaught of Congo's. Never mind the monkey!” shouted the major, “turn out his hiding place.” I looked at Marilller in amaze. His yotce was cracked and shaky with excitement, |his face deathly pale with a grim, desper- ate look about ft. In his Cisordered dress and tangled hair no one cculd have recog- nized him as the stardard of military pro- priety so well known to Ballynoggin. Then followed a queer scere. We all got as clore under the tewer as we could. Some one sent us up rrore lanterns and a clothes basket, into which the contents of poor Congo's treasure house were flung, he meanwhile lamenting piteously or grimac- ing with impotent wrath from the top of the tower: First the sugar tongs, also the crown of the missing pineapple; next my father’s gold eyeglass, missing since the funeral, and one of Parker's shoes, also a handful of livery buttons, apparently wrenched off. That seemed the total of his recent pilferings, but under a layer of rub- bish came a collection evidently dating from his earlier days at Brockwood; a fad- ed and battered work basket, once brilliant with satin and beads: a gold-topped smell- ing bottle, a set of kitchen skewers, a prayer book and an evil-smelling mass, which, on investigaticn, proved to have been once a ‘tongue highly decorated and frilled with lace paper. We got quite ex- cited at first, but it began to feel chilly and we made a movement toward a friendly attic window opened for our descent. ‘Stop, please,” implored the major, ‘only a moment longet His voice was husky and queer and his hand, laid on my arm, trembled violently. “Hurry, men! Is that all?” “Every bit, sir, except some torn papers and litter.” “Send it down. Down came an armful of rubbish. Allon- by kicked it over as it lay at his feet in the gutter. “More femily plete, ha! ha!” and he picked up a tin flour dredger, bat- tered »nd rusty. “What's this inside?” A big envelope full of papers was doubled up and crushed into it. “Family letters! That is my affair,” said Jonathan. ‘Hold the lanterns, some one.” They were damp and discclored, but the envelope, linen-lined, still hung together. Blew looked over his shoulder. “‘Last Will and Testament of—'" he read; “I think, Mr. Marillier, I had better take charge of that,” and he drew it with- out ceremony from Jonathan's hand. “Sup- pose we go down and look this over, gen- tlemen.”” Fi We left Congo and his tormentors to ad- just their differences, and descended. Such a set of dirty, disreputable figures as the drawing room mirrors reflected, if any one had had time to think of it. My father started from a quiet nap, and stared in amazement at our appearance, but stared more when he beheld our plun- der, It proved to be, as we all guessed, one of Miss Corbett’s numerous wills, and, wonder of wonders! in favor of Gustavus Adolphus Marillier of H. M.’s 112th regi- ment (Royal Manx Fusileets)! I gave a cheer—I couldn't help it—so did Allonby; and we rushed at him to coa-| gratulate him, before we remembered Jon- athan’s presence, He raged, stormed, talk- ed of conspiracy, and vowed he'd fight it out; but Blew assured him he had no chance—the document was all right u regular, and I think he was sharp enough to see that the major was too good a fellow | not to make him some compensation for his disappointment, if he gave in decently. At last, about midnight, we quieted down, and let Mariliier tell us his story “My good cousin, the late iss Corbett, quarreled with me in due course,” he said, “the very week after the will was made. Never mind how the dispute came about. The new will and the new favorite—a very distant cousin—were both on the premises, and I was ready to go, when this precious document was missed. Nothing could con- | vince Miss Corbett that I had not purloin: it. Why I should do so I can’t conceive. However, I left. I had had some experienc: of Congo's doings, and the idea struck me that some day I might have the chance of | hunting him down and eonvicting him of the theft. My chief object was to justi myself with Miss Corbett, of course. 2nJ to that straw of hope I have clung till on death seemed to have rendered it useless. | When I found she had died intestate. then you may cuess that I thought the chance too valuable to miss, and kept Carmody on, the alert ever since my arrival here.” So the mvsterv was cleared, and my story ends. Peovle who like to hear the ‘vy Inst of everything may care to know that the maior (now colonel of militia) hes left the service. and is forming himself into tne realized ideal of the English sauire ond county member. The said characters b- in their perfection inconsistent with od | bachelorhood, and Frefa’s unpald leesev being still a small erievance with him have a strong itea that he intends to dis-| charge all his obligations with one graceful | act. an? prevail on her to accent Broc- wood—plus the master. I hone so, at least. | Anv more? The little black at much converted, T'm afraid—shivered m! ably through a few months more of 7 land, and then at his own earnest petitio was disnatched in care of a varty of mis- stonaries from Liverpool back to his awn sunny Africa, and—took Congo with him. THE SITUATION IN SAN DOMINGO. Troubles of President Heureaux With | Spain and France. The incident of the American schooner) Henry Crosby at Azua, which has made ne-| cessary the sending of the Kearsarge to the| waters of the Dominican republic, will be pzomptly disavowed by Gen. Heureaux,| president of that republic, an apology will | be offered for the firing upon the United! States flag and an indemnity will be paid to the wounded satlors of the American schooner, according to the New York Trib-| une. At least it is probable that such a! course will be taken by Gen. Heureaux, who | recently had some trouble with the Spanish | consul general, and with whom France has/ suspended diplomatic relations. Although proud, obstinate and rather despotic, the, one-armed president 1s as intelligent as brave, and he will understand that it is to his interest not to add the United States to) the number of his adversazies. The story of his quarrel with Senor Pin- tado, the Spanish representative at Santo Domingo, is as follows, according to letters from that city published in European pa- pers—for no newspaper in the island would have dared to print anything derogatory to) the president: Heureaux is known to be a great admirer of women, and one day he} discovered that he had a rival in the person of a Spaniard, who was loved by one of) Heuzeaux's woman favorites. The president vainly ordered the hidalgo to leave the wo- man’s house, and had him arrested the next | morning and thrown into a dungeon. | As soon as he heard of the arrest the Spanish consul general went to the presi- dential palace and demanded so energetical- ly the release of his countryman that Heu- reaux told him: “Well, your countryman will be set at liberty, since you demand it; but tonight he will be assassinated!” These words incensed the consul general, who threatened the president with pe-sonal in. dignity. Heureaux reflected that Senor Pin. tado was exceedingly popular in the coun- try, and would be a redoubtable adversazy, | so he explained away his words and set free his Spanish rival in love. But the latter| was promptly sent to Havana by the consul | general, who did not rely too much upon Heureaux’s promise. About two years ago the government of| Santo Domingo managed to get itself into| an embroglio with the French government | over the question of the Santo Domingo Bank, a French institution, Its officials de- clared that the president had broken open the bank and abstracted the cash therein, about 200,000 francs. But the Santo Domin Bo authorities assert that no money was| touched, and that the documents abstracted | consisted merely of securities deposited against a contract never executed. The| president said that he had demanded the return of these documents from the French | authorities of the bank, and that his appli-| cation had been refused. Later on he him-| self refused the proposition of the French | admiral, De Libran, to deposit the money or the securities in the hands of a responsible | third pazty, until arbitration should have | decided upon the merits of the case. At any| rate, France acted mildly in the matter. | She was satisfied with sending occasionally | one or two men-of-war to maneuver off the Dominican coast, and with suspending dip- lomstic relations. Meanwhile Heureaux keeps in prison a French merchant named Boimare, whose only crime, it is said, is that he started a soap factory in competi- | tion with one in which the president had an| interest. Gen. Heureaux is still more interested in picking no quarrel with the United States, | on account of the decrease in his financial | resources. It is known that in 1888 the cus-| toms revenues were given in guarantee at Amsterdam to Dutch bankers, who took up a loan of £770,000. These revenues were stated then as amounting to $1,500,000. They fell to $1,305,101 in 1892, and are ‘col-, lected by an American syndicate, which has| acquired the rights and the | concession granted in 1888 to the Amsterdam bankers. soo The Coming Era of Organized Labor. From Puck. Wife—“John, can't you go across the) street and see if the Thompsons won't raise their cook’s wages?” Husband--“Why, what have we to do with their cook?" Wife—“Oh, she and our Bridget belong to the Servant Girls’ Union, and Bridget vows she won't finish cooking dinner until it's done; and the Thompsons dine with us this } evening, you know!” | “Time waits for no man; but every man has to wait for his time.—Puck, ‘ | JANUARY 6, ABOUT HAWAII Something of the History of Its Original Inhabitants. THEY WERE SKILLFUL NAVIGATORS Their Relations to the Pecple of the Other Islands. TRADITIONAL STORIES. Hawali’s present important relations with the United States give a general interest emong Americans to the past history of the remarkable race of which the aborigi- nals of the little nation constitute a part. People of European descent speak of these once cannibalistic tribes as savages, but they were far from being mere improve- ments on the brute below them. Though having no good claims to the attainment of civilization in the highest use of that word as meaning a definite departure from an habitually militant condition of life, they possessed a history, and a history well worthy of the close investigation of the student of human affairs in their as- pect of a grand development from the sel- fish to the unselfish. Study of Development. The study of a product of development whose day belonged to a period obscured by the long lapse of time is prosecuted with good results by the examination of a similar but belated product whose living reality may pass under the inspection of the student’s very eyes. By comparison with cognate living forms a few bones of some extinct quadruped have often been the basis of the reStoration of the outlines of the creature to whom these bones long since gave support. To such peoples as those who gave the world great literary results like the Vedas and the poems of Homer, composed before the art of graphic record had come into use, the Polynesian races sustain something of the relation that the living type sustains to the related but extinct fossil. The feats of memory by which the classics of the East Indians and the Hellenic peoples have been transmitted to posterity have not ceased to excite the wonder of moderns, whose reliance on pen and printing press has done away with the occasion for such a temarkable develop- ment of the faculty of mental reproduc- tion. But in the persons of the folk-lore bearers of the race, including the Sandwich islanders, this same phenomena is exhib- ited. Could this race have been granted the privilege of an unmolested development for a few milleniums, some point would probably be reached comparable to that already ap of its brother Planet. But having ined such a decided advance growth, Agors casian branch of the great human plant has forever cut off the future of this spon- taneous product of ethnic energy, as it has annihilated the future of several other oc- cidental buds of incipient civilization. The Genenlogy of Families, In the orally transmitted genealogies of the Polynesian families is contained the Story of these primftive but energetic pro- ple for some six or seven centuries. Mca- ern scientists have taken up the study of these Polynesian classics, and by trans- ferring them from the memories of natives to the pages of printed volumes have rescued them from the oblivion which a change of life conditions would involy The Hawaiian Historical Society, which has issued a number of papers from the presses of the Hawaiian Gazette Compan: . has done much in this direction. ee The story of the deeds of these barbar- fans reads not unlike that of the deeds of the earlier barbarians of classic iands, wii which the college boy is made to become familiar. With a religion of the same type. a knowledge of astronomypat will stand comparison, and an exuberance of hardy energy that prompted to exploits of similar dering, these later-day heathen command at least something of the same attention. Admiration of Early Voyagers. Although the Sandwich Islands, the most | lsolated groap in the world, Ne 2,300 miles from the Pacific Islands to the south, the | aboriginals of each are men of the same unique brown race—a people who com- manded the admiration of all the early voy- agers. A great line, so drawn as to include Hawail, Samoa, New Zealand and the dis- tant Easter Island, will roughly denote the habitat of this race. The occupation of bodies of land sepa- rated by such vast stretches of ocean im- plies a daring and a skill in navigation that is, perhaps, without parallel. As these great voyages were made in canoes, at the best but double affairs, capable of seating only some forty oarsmen, the deeds of the Norsemen and the renowned triumph of the Columbus, whose success the world has just been celebrating, do not shine with any su- perior intrinsic luster. According to the unwritten history of these people, the period corresponding to the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries of the Christian era was one of great unrest and commotion throughout the whole island world of Polynesia, a period when some fer- ment was at work to stir up the energies of these aboriginals, and when the land and sea must have been witness to great con- tention and violence. It was. a time of much paddling about and sailing to and fro in canoes, of long voyages between widely separated groups of islands and of venture- some expeditions in search of remote lands. Hawai{'’s Influence, While Hawaii was comparatively free from the sanguinary aspect of the ferment in the southern archipelagoes, this had an influence on the history of the former, for great as was the distance, the waves of emi- gration brought many chiefs and people in their fleets of palm tree canoes from the scenes of domestic strife, and doubtless some of these waves reached also the shores of the American continent. For several generations intercourse was maintained be- tween these extremities of Polynesian em- pire, preceding the long period in which Ha- wail experienced social as weil as territorial isolation, The dates of these events are de- termined by the number of generations in- cluded in the accounts transmitted by tra- dition. The ethnologists compute the time on the basis of twenty-five years to a gen- eration. Two Daring Navigators. One of the earliest of the daring naviga- tors between the southern archipelagoes and the islands to the north of whom, the tra- ditions tell, was one Paao, who, with his brother Lonopele, was a priest of Samoa, Paao being the keeper of the god Kukailt- moku. They were both men of authority and weight, highly accomplished in the arts of heathen life. Paao was also skilled in navigation, astronomy and divination. Both were successful farmers, and each had a son to whom he was greatly attached. The relations between the two brothers Were not altogether pleasant, and on cne oceasion Lonopele, having suffered from thievish depredations on his farm, came to Paao and complained that the son of the latter had been stealing his fruit. To determine whether or not his son were guilty, Paao cut open his body and exam- ined his stomach for signs of the alleged stolen property. Finding none, he was beside himself with grief and regret for the loss of his son, and | immediately began to plan vengeance in the death of his nephew, and in disgust deter- mined to abandon the scene of his strife and seek a home in other lands, ‘The Nephew Slain. Accordingly he at once set his Kahunas to work constructing a large double canoe. The top rails had been fitted and put in place, the three .cross-pieces hewn into shape, the hulls of the canoes smeared with black paint, and there remained only the sacred task of binding firmly together the different parts with sinnet. Paao now or- dered a tabu; for a month no fire was to be lighted, no person was to walk abroad, no one was to work on the farm or go afishing. At the opening of the second month Paao heard the noise of some one drumming on the canoes. It was the son of Lonopele who | was guilty of this impertinent breach of ceremony. Seeing his opportunity, Paao orde->ed the boy slain, and his body, after serving as a consecrating sacrifice, was bur- fed under the canoe. As soon as the days of tabu were passed, Lonopele, starting out in search of his missing son, came to the shed where the canoes were resting on their blocks, and stopped to admire the elegance of their proportions. As he stood at the stern and The Voyage of the Canoe. The canoe, containing aburdent supplies of food and water, was rigged with a mast and a triangular sail of braided pandanus leaf. When the wind was contrary or the weather so rough that the sail could not be used to advantage the mast and gail would probably be unshipped, folded up and lashed to the cross-pieces that held the two canoes together, and progress would then depend upon the use of the paddle. There were seats for forty paddlemen, sit- ting two om a bench. Midships of the canoe was a raised platform, screened off by mats and protected against the weather by a roof, which was for the accommoda- tion of Paao and his family party. Paao himself was the priest of the com- pany, wa the navigator and as- tronomer—upon him depended the course to be taken—Halua the sailing master and Puoleole the trumpeter. Awa-chewers and stewards are also mentioned. The feather idol, Kukailimoku, was taken layed a distinguis! role as war oe the invincible Kamehameha I, who con- quered the islands. (It was under Kame- hamehe III that idolatry was discontinued in 1819). : Landing at Hawaii. Land was first reached in the district of Puna, Hawail. Paao’s residence was fixed at Kohala, where he built a large temple whose ruins remain to the present day. “At this time the line of royalty in Ha- wail had become greatly debased by indis- criminate alliances with the common peo- ple. Intermarriages between chiefs and commoners had become so freqeent as to blur the line that separated the two classes from each other, ard to impair the authority of the governing class.” To correct this state of things, and to se- cure for Hawaii a ruler with blue blood in his veins, Paao, after a few years, made a voyage to the south and returned with Pili Kaaiea, who established his seat of govern- ment in the fertile valley of Waipio. “We have no proof that Paso was a cannibal, The times were, perhaps,not ripe for the development of this quintessence of paganism and heathenism.” Moikeha was another great navigator, who lived about 500 years ago, and who was noteworthy for his love for his brother Olopana’s wife, Luukia. Indeed, they were both husbands of this same woman, not- withstanding which fact the most friendly relations continued to exist between the two men, and Moikeha was the trusted friend and prime minister of King Olopana, he being a great chief over a fertile dis- trict of Hawaii. having desolated the land, the brothers departed in fleets of canoes to far away Tahita. This move Was wn unfortunate one for the stability of the peculiar domestic relations of tne trio for Mua, a chief of Tahii looked with jealous eyes upon the comely Luukia and sought to sow discord between her and Moikela—Olopana, the original band, seems not to have played any con- spicuous part in the affair. Mua ed successful in persuading the dusk: lady | that her younger husband was publicly ae- faming her, that she withdrew from him her affections, to the intense grief of the wronged man, who expressed a strong in- clination to end his own unhappy existence. However, he decided instead to quit tne scene of his distress, and accordingly, with all his subjects and canoes, returned to Hawaii. Here he was well received, and obtained practical confirmation of the truth of the proverb that “there are as good fish in the sea as ever were caught.” Two belles of the island while surf bathing were so taken with his manly grace that they forthwith permission of their father to become the wives of the newcomer. The consent was given, and in due time Motkela was the father of a family of five boys. Kila’s Ability markable ability in the handling of sea craft, and was sent away to Tahita after his father still lived, Hak at once accom- him, and on reaching Hawaii married three wives, each of whom, tradition states, pre- sented him with a son on the same day. From whence the Polynesian came the ethnologist cannot say, nor when he first made his a) Pacific. Both the Sandwich Islands and those 2,300 miles farther south seem to have been peopled by the same race be- fore communication was for a time re-es- tablished between them some six centuries ago. And whether this w brought about by an expedition from the south to the north or from Hawaii to the southern arch- ipelagoes can also not be stated. The Polynesian rage is distinct from any on the globe, and, like most others, is a pease to the student of primitive mankind. Vhether certain common characteristics between the people of the Pacific islands and the American aboriginals is due to kinship or similarity of climatic environ- ment is still an open question. A people able to make trips between islands 2,000 miles apart surely would not have hesitated to voyage as far as the continent. apne nienigesagy THE CRUSADE AGAINST FEATHERS. flarrowing Tale of the Sufferings of Ostriches on a Cairo Farm. From the London Truth. I should like to hear from the Society for the Protection of Birds, which 1 commended the other day to the notice of my laay readers, why the only birds’ feathers the wearing of which they countenance are the plumes of the ostrich. A lady telis me that she has declined an invitation to join the society because it does not protect the ostrich, and in justification of her de- cision she gives the following account of the plucking of ostriches on a feather farm. If the facts are accurate, I think that they fully prove her case: ‘ “The good ladies who belong to this so- ciety, and who condemn as ‘cruel’ the simple mercy of death, should go to the ostrich farm near Cairo—I believe the larg- a description of the annual feather gather- ing. The first year a bird is plucked he can be easily caught and thrown by one man. The feathers are wrenchea, bleeding, from his tortured body, after Fo the marabout and down are torn off. “After one experience the birds can only be caught with the utmost difficulty, and it takes six or eight men to throw an old bird. ‘It is very hard work plucking,’ we are told, ‘the feathers are bedded so tignt in the flesh.’ I asked if it would not do as well to clip off the feathers close, and was told that dealers will only buy those with the perfect quill. All the undressed feathers offered for sale on the farm had blood on the quills, and we were told that when the annual plucking takes place the shrieks of the birds can be heard to a great distance in the still desert air. “If you can induce your lady readers to bar ostrich feathers, even if they indulge lumage of a well-fed chicken, you will indeed add another to the many good turns you have already done to the cause of humanity.” ———_+e-+ ____ Dr. Holmes Answers Four Questions. From the Philadelphia Times, A young man ambitious for success wrote to Dr. Oliver Wendell Homes not long ago Propounding four questions which are often asked of public men, and the distinguished poet's answers are not without interest for their conciseness. My Dear Sir: I must answer your ques- tions, if at all, in my own hand, as my as- sistant is absent at this time. 1, A young man of good taste and good principles may safely go to see a 004 actor in a good play. 2. The best three books? The Bible, Shakespeare's plays and a good dictionary, Say Worcester or Webster. 8. To obtain “real success”? Real work concentration on some useful calling adapt- ed to his abilities. 4. Shall he smoke? Certainly not. It is Mable to injure the sight, to render the nerves unsteady, to enfeeble the will and enslave the nature to an imperious habit likely to stand in the way of duty to be performed. Yours very truly, OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. hus- | Haa, another son of Moikeha. Hearing that | panied the expedition sent in search of | ppearance in the islands of the | est there is—and hear from those in charge | in a ‘wing’ manufactured from the dis- | THE TRAWLER’S CATCH. Everybody in Va., knows the Judge, the colonel major as litelong | and dear friends, te no little excitement was caused by the three gentiemen very red in the and on the verge of t Seemed to be an affair of honor. It ‘was on Monday fast, and the judge bad just exppessed $as to the wisdom of electing Thomas to the United States Senate. The and the major had demanded an tion and the trio confronted each no little show of suppressed it's true that hes been us from his | cradle,” ssid the no one ever jheard of his He is a brainy man and 4 one, and he loves good hosses; my doubts bout any man who six yeahs in old Albemarle remain | i ly western miss, who Monday, “they may make can of Senator Peffer’s beard. just lovely! It’s just as soft the touch as the daintiest f: a wicked with a sly twinkle in his “And how do you, know as quality of Senator Peffer’s H Hi i BHF & eit aFihis With that refreshing ‘readiness be prairie bread pone one with no sign of appreciating the inference suggested, she replied: “"Cause they're ‘fust like papa’s whiskers, which I have hundreds of times.” ‘The business secretary of one of the most Popular of the United States Senators is @ | bachclor about—weill, he’s over twenty years old, and he boards somewhere on K street. Of pleasing address and having a bank ac= count he is, or would be, if he would perm mit, very much sought after by the ladies, Somehow the fair ones learned the date of his birthGay anniversary, and arranged @ very swell reception in his honor, inviting him to attend, but negiecting to inform him Srcctony sumnaed ae Eaost net ve ai ex: the secretary, who @id not even wena iis regrets. The next his attire becomingly, except that his glossy silk hat and neatly fitting kid gloves seem- ed somewhat too new for him. He was in in liberal fashion. Finally he had to leave Washington and re- turn home to his business. “But I'll be back here with you inside of thirty days,’* he confidently asserted to his friends. When pe BE I appointment he wes seeking, “Oh, I've got a cinch! My | says > ~ you know that goes Vashington.” And |the back platform of the ‘train pulled out, one o! marked: reply & | he’s older.’ Of course I wasn’t there, bu! Mably informed as follows: Of all the many hundreds of presents sent by unknown ad mirers to make Christmas day a happy one for Miss Cleveland and her sister, Esther Cleveland, none created a more & became necessary to apply the rule of clo (ture to stop the debate. | Before his electiop to the Congress of (the United States Kepresentative Weadock of Michigan was the prosecuting attorney for Bay county.+ As Usual a good portion (of the business of that office consisted of iquor cases—failure to obtain @ license, Violations of the early closing laws, &c. Being a member of a Father Mathew Tem- mourning | returns showed conclusively that Mr. Wea- |dock was elected. A few days since the Congressman received a letter in which joccurred this passagt. “As a veteran sol- | jong democrat, who has been your fellow citizen and neighbor for | Years, I appeal to you to see ——— and pre- vail on him to push matters relating to |my increase of pension.” The letter was from the saloon man in question, and his with by Mr. Wea- observed the Congress- to know that his record @ solcier.” man, “I happen was first-class as There was quite a party of them—three or four members of Congress, a newspaper )man or two and four or five clerks and other employes |moon on the cars bound for their respec- |tive homes for the holidays. There were two or three packs of playing cards avail- able, hence the party was a busy one. One of the members had experienced good for- tune and was enthusiastic, but presently, just after making « small marked: this soon, because we're getting near to my district, and I have no doubt I will met near the border by some of my stituents. I don’t want them to find this sort of thing, because, if I do myself, I'm wonderfully popular all through | the district, and I hope to remain 20.” T he made another ante and resumed play’ About an hour later, chan to look Rp y window, he asked: “What river at?” would have to travel back about thirty miles in order to réach home Christmas eve. Then the entire party the “diner,” where the winning member opened several bottles and all agreed te ke the story a secret. , TOM THE TRAWLER —_~<——__ |zew Work for the Broadway Squad. From Puck. Mrs. Slimpurse—“Officer, I need your 1 “Yes, Mum; right away, Mum? What is it?” “You see that sign there? “Twenty-five cent towels for five cents each.” “Yes, Mum.” only a drawing card, you know.” Mum.” I si 80, “The towels are undoubte@ly worth twen- | ty-five cents, as any one cam see, but they are willing to lose on them for the sake of the profit they will make on other things which folks, after getting towels, will be sure to buy.” \_ “Yes, Mum; but I can't see what you | Want of me.” “You can’t? Why, I need some tow and as soon as I have purchased them a ZOU trash tn and pul me out; thety She Had a Sporting Brother. Algy (for the twentieth time).—“wen, dearest, I must leave you now.” | Voice (through the velvet dark). | that you do. I've backed you to wi these false starts