Evening Star Newspaper, June 20, 1896, Page 22

22 ——— THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JUNE 20, 1896--TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. : (Copyright, 1866, by M. G. Tuttlett.) Though ruined, Carlen castle sat proudly upon its steep acelivity, its dismantled and crumbling keep on the seaward summit, {ts fine castellated gateway facing land- ward with stately defiance, and looking up # long valley between chalk hills. It made @ good point of view from Carien house, a modern white mansion on the opposite hill slope, half hidden by the thick beechwoods, which, screened by each hill from the salt sea winds, climbed both hilis, the slopes of which, meeting in a broad V, allowed a glimpse of from the level high road running through the village at the foot of the castled hill. These ruins were among the show places of the country and the ob- ject of many excursions and plenics the Whole summer long, but chiefly In the tour- ist season, when Carlen folk gathered a , one from the fields and an- other from the visitors, whose four-horse double harv nn, in company with innumera 3 the riders of which found it jer to climb the steep wooded road to tle gate without wheels. Though of nt, it was a fair road, screened and passing on arches over the dry moat. A groove for a portcullis showed what once had been, and loopholes in each beau- tifully rounded turret by the vaulted en- trance recalled days when the bows of English foemen wer_ feared. Inside the heavy oaken gate was level green sward, closely shaven and shaded by trees; near the gateway a stone cottage with mul- lioned windows amid much greenery and bloem, and a plot of garden ground. Here lived the old gatekeeper and his wife. An- other garden, free of the tower shadows, lay beneath the broken wall opposite the castellan’s cottage; this was inclosed by wire fencing and led to a small modern Tudor house built into the ruins out of old and weathered stone. This garden had down the middle a broad turf walk, bor- dered with old-fashioned flowers, lavender, focks and carnations, behind which were espalier fruit trees, making a light fencing for vegetables beyond The slim figures of two young women, Wearing straw sailor hats, cotton blouses and dark plain skirts, moved over the sun- ny turf a the flowers. One girl was “Oh! When They Try to jcheme.” Sweeping the fine short. newly mown gra: with a heath broom, the other was bus tying 'y moved and talked. erald has shown me his hand, id the girl with the broom. men, when they try to schem are too delightfully transparent. How they plume themselves on the subtlety of rir little wiles and lures! And what is his little game?" asked Margie, who was kneeling by the car- nations, which were just bursting out into spicy pink and crimson bloom. ‘The usual refuge of the destitute, child, an heiress.” r eried Margie. “Why going to marry me—so people say Gerald, goosey. His friend, precious young Sir Wilfred Carr, who, according to him, is a lovely blend of Apollo and Adonis, with a spice of Bay- a thrown in.” Dear Rosalind, it's nst fate and suitors. ycu'll he rid of the rest. Have him.” To spite the others? No, Margie, my only chance is to disguise myself in pov- erty and go a hunting for a disinterested husband. Have him yourself and leave me to take care of Gerald. Gerald would be a world the better for a good heart- he's this mouse to fight Marry one ana »reak. | He couldn't marry me, you see. He thinks cousins’ marriages wicked. So do I. but that’s neither here nor there. By the w when is this charming youth to arrive? “He dines with us tonight, and he couldn't do that unless he had arrived, could ne? “His astral body might. I'll be as hid- nm. at all eous as I ¢ ents—wear that green gown. I wonder what Fraser will do when he finds I have mown and swept his grass ?"" “Fraser will Rosalind left probably swear.” the inclosed garden and leant on her broom, whistling softly, as if Icst in thought. Margaret sat on a bit of broken wall hard by, arranging « unch of carnations, tieing them with a ce of bast that hung round her neck, and singing. Her skirt was soiled with garden meld and tucked up on one side, her fair hair was ruffled. Rosalind’s darker hair had become loosened by ex- se and her fringe pushed off her fore- i under her hat, a hat once white, now browned dy sun and rain. Both were looking at the heavy oaken fates fitted in the stone archvy barred and crossbarred for streng: the large bell hanging in by the lintel ng to and fro with loud clangor. pace Grannis She was up all night with the child, and she's sound asiee} now. And a P gone to cut gras: Til open the gate. Grannie shan't be waked,” cried Margery, springing to her feet and going with the bast still over ker shoulders to ‘These "Ar- ries ring such tremendous pes reget egies lo peals, enough She unhasped and the gate, dis vaulted ig. ; opened a wicket in losing In the shadow ot the gateway two men, one with a ette In his mouth.” ‘an we see the castle?” he voice, removing and replacing it.” she replied. “Step in.’* man stepped in, followed hy also young. | Margery behind them, and_re- a occupation, while the two men sto t inside and looked round them, seeing in the foreground Rosa- i, leaning pensively on her broom, but no longer whistling, with the broken walls of gray stone, the little modern Tudor house, through an open window of which the remains of a frugal luncheon could be seen, and the distant keep for a back- ground. Full sunshine threw her face into shadow and lit up the faces of the two men. The first was dark and tall, with a beautiful, close-shaven face: he wore a soft felt hat with a pinched crown and slightly sweeping brim, the belted tunic closed to the throat cailed a Nor- folk jacket, and knickerbockers of thinner and more clinging stuff than is usual. Slightly and straightly built, and wear- ing stockings that disclosed the real shape of the leg, instead of exaggerating the too great thickness characteristic of En- glish Hmbs, he made a graceful, and, by contrast with others, even pi. figure; his movements were graceft Was a suggesti his whole be 3 sturdier build, with g brown hair; he was an inch or two shorter an his comrade, but not sto He as in white flannels and eric cap, brown-faced and bearded. fot "Arries,"” Rosalind reflected, es she anned them with a careless glance, her chin resting on the earth-stained hands clasped above her broomstick. ‘The dark man sent a quick, sweeping glance over the whole picture, scarcely ncticing the figure In the foreground, but particularly observing the small house built of old stones. asked In the cigar- a well-toned in friend was of eyes and light et ch and ash, offering lovely prospects | ; their voices sounded high | “Jove! What an owl's nest!” he exclaim- ed, with a dissatisfied air. “What would you have?” his friend re- “romantic old place; fine ruins, nest or a heap of ruins.” “Oh, as to that, souls are cheap enough, once in the market,” the deeper voice re- plied. “Let's rest’ and be thankful,” he added, dropping himself on a garden seat and Stretching his legs comfortably in front of him, with his hands in his pockets. “Jolly old place, Carr. Very good speci- men of a feudal stronghold. Norman keep well preserved. Carlen house on the hill opposite. Perpendicular chapel yonder,” nodding his head slightly to the right, where, opposite the dwelling house, a per- fect and richly-traceried window in a roof- less chancel was partially revealed among some beeches. Rosalind had moved away; the bell again sounded. She hastened to the gate and let in a party of ladies, while Margery said that she would go quietly into the cot- tage and put the kettle on for grannie’s tea, in case she waked. | “Dear old grannie is still asleep. I hops | no one will rouse her,” she sald, five min- | utes later, on coming out of the cottage | and addressing Rosalind, who was answer- Ing questions and giving the dates and | builders of different parts of the casile fer the benefit of the inquisitive men visitors. “The present owner is not a de Carlen, I think?” the dark man asked, forgettin despite his knightly appearance, to remove his cigarette. “No; an Ormonde: tke male line has twice been broken. Here lies the last de Carlen.” They were now in the ruined chapel, grass-grown and dotted with stone tombs and broken effigies of mailed knights. “Very good of the owner to show her castle to the public,” Carr said. “It must be a bore to her, though. This Miss Or- monde probably courts popularity, eh?” “Miss Ormonde {s not too poor to be pop- * was Rosalind’s somewhat dark re- ular, ply. | _ “Rustic frony,” Carr murmured to Bran- | don. “A plain woman?” he asked of Rosa- 1 Remarkably plain.”* “And such a temper! with viclous emphasis. . “But young, surely young?” he protested, as if her age were a personal injury to him. “Well! certainly not so young as she was, poor lady.” “Still she must be under fifty,” added Margery. “Ha! What did T tell you, Brandon! A frumpish, cross old maid. No one was ever good enough to marry her, I suppos2?” to Rosalind. . “Those who ask heiresses seldom are.”” Carr laughed a joyous, boy's laugh. “Wise women are stiil found in these par's, you see, Brandon,” he said, “‘and witches, too," he added, with a side glance at Mar- gery. “This little thirteenth-century window is much admired,” Rosalind said, brusquely, lifting some ivy that hung over It. rou are attached to the place?” asked Brandon; “have lived here long? You don t tire of showing it?” “I am attached to it—like a tree or a serf—I never tire of showing it to people who are interested,” she replied, smiling. “As for me, I am quite in love with the place,” Brandon sighed, with an intent but added Margery, | Tespectful glance at the bright and intel- ligent face of the guide. “I could be very, very happy in that little house, Carr.” “My good Brandon, you could be happy anywhere with a pen and a pipe. I'll be bound you're hatching a sonnet this :no- | ment—savage because you can't rhyme stone. “Would I could bone the whole of this stone— And the mistress—7?" ‘ondone. There's the rub, you see. We'll take the sea view and the tilt yard for granted this broiling day,” he added, turning back to Brandon, who was choos Just in Time to Receive a Single- Hearted Box on the Ear. ing some photographs set out on a little table beneath the cottage window. I can’t afford to spoil my complexion or over-tire myself today. The dragon must be fac this evening and the siege begun at once. ‘If you do spoil your lovely mug, you might still powder for the evening,” sug- gested Brandon, “and put on a fresh: pair of stays.” “Too great a grind, old Timon. Oh, for a beaker full of the warm south; full of the true, the blushful Hip—” “Or some ginger pop, it’s only*a penny?” suggested Margery, looking up with merr; bright eyes, and laying her slender fori firger on a stone bottle on the table, while Resalind packed Brandon’s views in an en- velope and gave him change. “With a kiss thrown in?’ whispered Carr, as, with a sudden deft movement, he threw his arm around Margery and brought his face close to hers just in time to re- ceive a well-intentioned, single-hearted box on the ear, as made the archway echo, startled the owls and bats, sent a cloud of pigeons scurrying up on the ruined walls, staggered the recipient of it, and convulsed Brandon and Rosalind between indignation and laughter, that did not wake grannie—- or at least, only enough to,season her nap with conscious enjoyment and the agree- able reflection that her work was being admirably done for her. PART II. Margery’s pretty, merry face was white with anger, as she moved haughtily away; Carr, very red, with three white stripes on | His cheek, was the first of the four to re- cever con.posure. He moved off with a muttered apology and a forced jest about striking arguments, and, seating himself within the shadow of the broken wall, where a room had once been, began to smoke fiercely. “Hard hit, for once, my good Wilfred,” Brandon said, joining him, after a civil good morning to Rosalind. “Jolly little girl that. Straightforward. No nonsense about her. Hits out as if she meant It.” “ observed Sir Wilfred, briefly “Wretch!” Margery sobbed, under the shadow of a cedar that reached from the ruined upper room whither she had fled to the wall under which the two men were smoking. ‘“‘Nasty, horrid—” “Nonsense, child,” interrupted Rosalind. “After all, perhaps it served us right for letting them think us— “Us, indeed! Nobody kissed you!” “Or you, either; come, come!” continued Rosalind, drawing her cousin gently along the narrow path on the first story of the rum to a deep recessed ogee window in the cool thickness of the wall, where they could sit comfortably. ‘You had the best of it, Margie. I don’t think he'll want any more ginger pop just yet, do you? Oh, hush! look!” Both peeped through the unglazed win- dow, which was partially hidden by cedar boughs, and saw immediately beneath them the subjects of their conversation. Carr, the white marks still on his flushed | cheek, was speaking with unusual energy. “If good looks.were virtues, he'd soon be in paradise,” whispered Rosalind. “Ah! Miss Drago: he’d have got no ginger pop from you,” murmured Margery, laughing, with the tears still on her peach- like cheeks and in her merry eyes. “I don’t care,” Carr was saying, em- Phatically, “I must have her, or I shall be clean stone broke.” “What! Marry a spiteful, frumpish old maid for an owl’s nest and a heap of ruins?” “And half the county and heaven knows what besides. It’s positively sinful for all that fine property to be thrown away on a woman. It ought not to be allowed in any Christian country.” “Well, but what would stone-broke youths do with no heiresses to marry?” “Positively sinful,” he repeated, with pious energy. “And here am I, with at least two-thirds of my rents unpaid, and all kinds of burdens on the estates, and the mater’s jointure, and her house, and the girls’ portions, not to speak of their keep, and mortgages here and there and eyvery- where, and a run of ill-luck at Monte Carlo last March, and losing heavily on ‘Glen- dower,’ and that beast of a trainer letting ‘Young Lochinvar’ be got at, besides—one must have one’s fling now and then; one can’t always live like an anchorite—" “Did you ever—” drawled Brandon, slow- ly, “ah—try?” “I cannot understand the principles on which this beast of a world is governed,” complained Carr, pathetically. “Here is this—!—What's this creeping inside my col- lar? said, putting up his hand. “Little stones.” “Old crone “Unmarried woman, positively rolling in riches. Dover sdys she has a whole coal mine to herself.” “To roll in?” “And here am I—Onh! I'll make the plunge —though she’s as ugly as sin, as old as Methuselah, as stupid as an owl, as ill- tempered as a sick bear, and as wicked as the devil—I'll have her, I say. Confound itr he cried, putting up his hand to his collar again, “what can this be?” “The family ghost protesting,” explained Brandon, with a delighted grin, as his eye followed a thin stream of mortar from in- side Sir Wilfred’s collar to its source in a slender hand vanishing in the window. “But suppose she won't have you? She must be a dab at refusing by this time?” ‘She’s a woman,” returned Sir Wilfred, with a singular smile—‘Oh! Confound this Its Source in a Slender Hand Van- ishing From the Window. dust!” he added, shifting his position, “it's all over the place. She should keep it in better repair. She's a woman, Arthur.” “Most heiresses are, still they sometimes refuse.” “They refuse some men. My good Bran- don, want a woman, and have a woman, that’s my experience. Confound it all! the whole blessed place is coming down,” he cried, jumping up under a shower of stone chips and dust, aud turning with well-pow- dered hair to look up at the window, where no Hving thing couid be scen. “Let us cut thie. Ihe horses will be at the foot of the fll. Long, level rays of setting sun were fill- ing one of a suite of drawing rooms opening pieturesquely into each other at Cari house when Rosalind entered it that even- ing. She looked at the western glory, look- ed away and went into another, a south- facing room, where she beheld herself in a full-length mirror with the reddening radi- ance streaming past and touching her pearl-white sctin skirts. “ ‘As ugly as sin, as ill-tempered as a sick bear?’ Was that it, Margie?” Margery, in white lace over blue, laugh- ed; the first guest was announced, and enother and another. Two men, whose names did not reach the hostess, were join- ed and received by Gerald Dover and led up to her. “At last, Rosalind,” her cousin said, “here, at last, is my old friend, Sir Wil- fred Carr.” Sir Wilfred’s gaze had vainly sought the plain, old maidish frump he expected; he was a little dazzled by the sunset light from the room behind his hostess. She ex- pressed cordial pleasure at seeing her cous- in’s friend, so well known to ker by report, in a voice that made him look up in her face with a start. He saw a slim, grace- ful figure in shining satin draperies, with gleaming arms and fair white neck be- mocking the unusually fine pearls she wore. She had kind, brown eyes, dark hair, curl- ing low on a broad open brow, a firm mouth with little humorous dimples at the cor- ners and a genial condescension in her man- ner, which was one of welcome, and yet she was like—cold chills ran over him at the thought—she was very like the girl with the broom, the old hat and the tucked-up skirts and sleeves who showed the ruins. And alas! innocently smiling at her side, in blue and white, was the very pretty fair- haired girl by whom he had been so hard hit_an hour or two since. “Plain—with such a temper—frumpish— not yet fifty—not too poor to be popular— the dragon to be faced. Good Lord! I've done it this time, and no mistake,” he thought, trying to remember how much Miss Ormonde could have heard: “A nasty trick to play on a man!’ For a moment, realizing that the game was lost, he was taken aback and utterly routed; but by the time Brandon had been presented to Miss Ormonde and his blush- ing self’ made known to Miss Margery Staines, he was, as he expressed it, all there again, and so cool and apparently uncon- scious of what had gone before as almost to persuade Rosalind, when she found her- self following her guests fnto dinner on this A Voice That Made Him Look Up With a Start. amlably-ehatting person's arm, that he and the picturesque youth of the’ castle were different people. Carlen eastle, unlike Sir Wilfred, was blushing beautifully in the sunset on the hill in sight of the windows of the large, cool hall in which ‘they were dining. Mr. Brandon, who took Margery in, commented upon its’ beauty to her. “Isn't it a dear old owl's nest?” Rosalind struck in. “We are very fond of our heap of ruins, are we not, Margie?” : “And the ghost. I often envy you’ your family. ghost,” Margery replied. “I never had so much as a grandfather, much less a ghost.” “Ah! Do you like this hot weather, Miss Ormonde?” Sir Wilfred inquired, with ten- der_solicitude. it’s so unbecoming. One ‘own, and that makes one as ugly “Surely not. Sunburn becomes some peo- ple,” Sir Wilfred insfnuated, with great sweetness. “The sun turns me red,” Margery kindly explained. ‘Then my head aches and I'm as stupid as an cwl. 5 “Havo you some iced seltzer?” Sir Wil- fred asked a servant. ‘‘Nothing so refresh- ing as iced seltzer,” he unnecessarily in- formed his hostess. “Did you never try ginger pop, Sir Wil- fred? Thero’s nothing so cooling as ginger pep of a hot afternoon. We have it at e castle sometimes, Margie and I. Only apenny. Ht gratifies one’s avarie, though one is rot too poor to be popular.” “Are you much at the castle, Miss oh monde?” Brandon inquired, with the plea: en air of one introducing a charming ‘optic. “Tt ds ds, Sometimes Margie and I go there for luncheon, egpecially when things go wrong, and it’s too hot, or too cold, and one feels as ill-teinfered as—as a sick bear.” f 5 “Surely, Miss Ormonde, that can never be,” objected the polite Sir Wilfred. “Such a soothing, tranquilizing place to dream and lay scheines in,” continued the pitiless Rosalind, “Perhaps you know it, Mr. Brandon?” ve “I think I have somé vague memories of the place, Miss Ormonde. How good of you to let people see it. I hope your kind- ness ig never abuged. No doubt ‘Arries come there often. >. “Oh, yes, and Reggies and Johnnies and all sorts. There's an:'Arry season and a Reggie season. We'have some queer spe- cimens there sometimes. —— PART Ill. Sir Wilfred, pensively smiling, as one whose mind is absorbed by more ethereal subjects, here descended from some sum- mit of lofty speculation and asked for opinions on Mr. Irving’s latest Shakes- pearian impersonation. “I can’t endure Irving in young charac- ters such as Hamlet and Romeo,” Rosalind said. “They make him look as old as Methuselah.” “And Miss Terry is scarcely so young as she was,” Brandon politely hinted. “She must be under fifty, though; Mr. Brandon,” Rosalind gently corrected, “but what is that to a genius?” “Do you—ah—do you like Ibsen?” asked the unfortunate Carr, addressing Margery. “I don’t know, I mayn’t know without asking mamme,” she replied, demurely. “People’s mammas don’t seem to admire him much." “It 18 quite possible to object to problem plays and Ibsenism without being an abso- lute dragon of propriety,” Rosalind corrob- orated with severity, “and Miss Staines is still young and—tender. A shipwrecked crew might choose her for dinner, like poor Uttle Billee, in the ballad.” “TVli_ I’m roused,” corroborated Miss Staines; “then I can be as wicked—as the “Ay, and hit as hard,” Sir Wilfred was heard murmuring, acidly to himself be- tween his teeth, as Rosalind rather sud- denly rose, and he went to open the door for the ladies. “What the deuce is the matter with those two girls tonight?” Gerald Dover won- ed to himself when they were gone. ‘Carr hasn't made any running as yet. I doubt if he ever will.” “My dearest Margery,” ‘said the vicars wife, on reaching the drawing room, “I am grieved to hear you allowing yourself the sad license of speech characteristle of too many young women of the present lay.” “It was horrid of me, wasn't it?” she smiled back, with infantile cheerfulness and candor, “but it was only a quotation, after all.” “Not from Ibsen, I earnestly trust.” “Oh, no! not from Ibsen, dear. It didn’t sound £0, now, did it?” “I am happily unacquainted with these new writers, my dear, so I cannot tell.” “But why,” asked Brandon of his hostess later in the evening, “did you eay you were ugly? Were you never taught that it is wrong to tell stories?” “I beg your pardon, Mr. Brandon. I sald I was plain, and so I am, both in speech and action.” “Well, but Miss Staines declared that your temper was something awful.” “Such a temper,’ she sald. She meant such a delightfully sweet temper. But I can’t answer for it myself. It was kind of Margie, though.” They were having coffee on the terrace, whence the castle, all silver-stecped in moonlight, and a peep of sea between the two hill slopes could be seen. Cockchafers were still droning in the almond-scented clematis, a little warm breeze stirred the She Happened to Turn Just Then. beech tops, yellow corn stood in aisles on a slope above the peaceful village, where little orange dots suggested homesteads, the tree-shadowed lawns and jim, dream- ing flowers looked magical and unreal in the silvery light. Arthur Brandon's thoughts ran into involuntary rhyme; he had never been so happy in his life, yet he wished the never before coveted burden of riches were his; still more, he wished Rosalind Ormond poor. Sir Wilfred end some other vandals were spoiling the dewy flower scents with cigars, Sir Wilfred won- dering if he could possibly put up with the promised week at Gerald Dover's seaside cottage and continual meetings with the Carlen people, after this unlucky fiasco. “And to crown all,” he reflected, “I must needs try to kiss the wrong girl. How like my luck!" But even Carr was far happier than he deserved to be—the dust and stones in- commoding him in the afternoon now strewed the carpet of his dressing rocm— he had a sort of vague idea that the best thing would be to sit on the terrace tor- ever and ever and watch the tiny ship sailing far and far away on the moonlit sea, and the proud castle in the mystic light dreaming of its vanished glories, and the village nestling in the foliage by the church tower at the foot of the castled steep. But Brandon, the briefless, the impe- cuntous, the blessed, saw more; he saw a shadowy company of. plumed knights ride with far-off clang over the drawbridge, sew the moon rays glittering on the steel breastplates of men-at-arms; saw harrers fluttering lightly as the gray moths on the terrace, fair ladies leaning from the battle- ments. Nay, fairer ladies than any of old moved in white shining raiment among the flower scents on the terrace; their voices had the hushed charm imparted by open air and stillness; their eyes were softer than silvery summer stars in the pale moonlit sky. Minstrels of old dared pay homage of song to lovely chatelaines—but now! a minstrel in an ugly black dress sult and hideous breastplate of amorphous white linen! But this modern chatelaine, her pearls half muffied in a silken scarf, happened to turn just then and meet the full gaze of the silent minstrel's eye, so that for one brief and beautiful moment two young hearts leapt together In a bliss- ful throb. Costume changes, custom alters, old castles and old codes, and even creeds, stand and le in ruins; but youth and joy, love, innocence and ‘ong are the same throughout all ages. A few days later Wilfred Carr found himself waiting with a beating heart in the library of Carlen house, whither he had been summoned by its young mistress for a private conference. ‘What could she want with him?” he asked himself, as he stood by the open window and looked at the towered gateway, shadowed now with morning light behind it, and the cornfields and sea, robbed now of their moonlight glamor. He had not’ long to wait; the “plain woman” quickly entered, and, after a grave tut genial salutation, plunged at once into the topic in‘Rand. she said, gently, “I am told that your affairs are greatly embar- tassed; pray do not think me obtrusive in asking if such is the case.”” Such, he mournfully replied, certainly was the case; it wag too kind of Miss Or- monde to be interested in the matter, but he was about to appear in the Gazette. “Well, now,” Miss Ormonde continued, with a genuine, delightful, old-fashioned blush and an agreeable hesitation in her speech, “it would give me—ah!—very great pleasure to be able—and to be permitted— to help you—to some slight extent—to pay off—that is to say—to avoid liquidation.” Sir Wilfred turred pale; he was stand- ing; he placed both hands on the top of a vhair to steady himself. “Good Lord! She’s going to propose!” he thought, “and I shall have to have her.” Me sald something unintelligible, but as she was not listenfng, and he had not the least notion of what he was saying, it was of no consequence. “Would,” she faltered, with deepening blushes and a husky voice, “would twelve thousand pounds be of any use to you?” “Wouldn't it?” he exclaimed, catching his breath and becoming straight as a lance in a second. “Then, please—please,” in a very sup- plicating voice, handing him a slip of pa- per, “take it.” He was silent, with quivering lips and brimming eyes. He certainly was a hand- some fellow, Rosalind thovght. “But not to Monte Carlo,” she added, with a little tremulous laugh, as, with some broken words of deprecation, he took it. “No, not there,” he faltered, too much overcome for thanks. “And no soul must know, remember. Ni no interest, no acknowledgment. And, she added, after a little pause, “don’t pay ay to my Margie unless you really love aa “Ah! but I do; I do from the very bot- tom of my heart, Miss Ormonde.” “He's going to reform and live on penny buns and ginger pop,” Rosalind told Mar- “Good Lord! she’s going to propose!” thought he. gery that evening. “I wonder if any kisses will be thrown in? “I wish,” Margery sighed, “I wish I hadn't hit him quite so hard, poor fellow.” “Young rascal!” added Rosalind, with acerbity, “it was a stroke of luck far too good for him. (The end.) —so- THEY SAW THE TORNADO. Four St. Louis Barbers Say It Follow- ed a Pillar of Fire and Had Fiery Arms. From the St. Louis Republic. Up on the top floor of the Wzinwright building there is a neat little barber shop, presided over by Louis ‘Tisch. The barbers in the building, Tisch, G. C. Adams, Joh B. Huppert and A. Rust, saw the storm from start to finish, and they tell a most remarkable story about it. They say that it was not a funnel-shaped cloud such as is commonly pictured as being the shape of a tornedo. Each solemnly swears it was a horizontal black cloud that moved through the city with a twisting motion, like a screw, faster than any railroad train that ever ran. Preceding the black cloud was a dense yellow cloud thai looked as though its interior was a mass of flame: From out of this cloud shot long, fiery arms in every direction, and wherever one of these arms struck something went to pieces. Tisch compares the cloud to a big ser- pent that wriggled along up in the air and thrust out a multiforked tongue, as thougit in anger. Shortly before the storm broke, Huppert went up on the roof, and came back with the information that there was a tornado in sight. Rust followed him, and came back with a confirmation of the report, and then the two barbers went out and saw the grand marshaling of the storm in the wesi- ern skies. When the rain began they came down into the shop, and the last they saw as they were coming through tie scuttle was the advance guard of the tornado as it came in from the southwest. The barber shop is at the southeast co: ner of the building, and all around it a little windows, round, like the portholes in a ship. The barbers stood at the south windows and watched the tornado from the e It appeared, away off to the southwest, until a portion of it rolled up against the building and made them wish they were somewhere else. Tisch says they saw houses and business blocks go down before it, their view of the destruction it wreaking being made plain the yello cloud of fire that preceded the storm prop- er. He is sure it crossed the river some distance below Park avenue, switched around when it got nearly to the Hlinois shore, and started directly uf the stream. In this he is borne out by the statements of the others who were watching it. Just as they were getting -eady to move around to the east windows, in order to observe the passing of the storm up the river, a gust of wind and rain that shook the building came along, and they were in the midst of the storm. When next they saw the river and the city below, the storm had passed, and the rain was falling straight down. They saw dozens of wrecks floating down the stream, and on the other side saw ali the steamboats blown away from the harbor and piled up along the bank. Then came the second storm, followed by the St. Louis Wooden Gutter Company's fire, which they saw from their airy observatory. It was late when they went down, after three hours of uninterrupted excitement. A colored boy named Mose fs cne of the valued attaches of the shop, and he was one of the spectators when the awful cloud was first seen. He instantly started for the ground, and he got there in a hurr: He forgot about the elevators and made slide, it is averred, down ten flights of stairs. No amount of persuasion could get him back to the shop that night. Next morning when he was belng twitied about having run away from the storm he re- marked: “Oh, there was others.” SSE African Elephant: From the London Times. The potential value of the African ele- phant as a servant of man is not inferior to that of its Asiatic congener. Wild ele- pkants, as Herodotus records, formerly ranged north of the Sahara, within what became Carthagenian dominion. It ap- pears from Juvenal that in his time they were still found in Mauritania and above Asouan. There is no dcubt that African elephants were tamed and employed b; the Cartha- genians in war as early as the first inva- sion of Africa by the Romans under Regu- lus. According to Livy the first elephants made use of by the Romans and employed (B. C. 200) in Macedonia egainst Philip were natives of Africa, captured from th2 Carthaginians. Sallust relates that Jugur- tha, after his defeat, was required to sur- render all his elephants to the Romans, who, for a considerable period, used ele- phants, both African and Asiatic, in war, in public displays, in the amphithcater and ctherwise. Wild elephants have long ago been driven out or exterminated in North Africa, where they formerly abounded. They have long ceased to be tamed, owing to the barbarous condition of Africa, which has caused the success of the ecientists in utilizing these animals for the service of man to be for- gotten, and has thus left them in th. refuges of Central Africa, a prey to the reckless greed of ivory hunters. sees A Noisy Ball of Fire Comes Aboard. From the Philadelphia Record. Captain Dickson of the British bark Eu- dora reports an unusual electrical display during a storm in the South Pacific. The Eudora ieft Junin, Chile, on February 29, and while beating down the coast toward Cape Horn the storm was seen approaching the vessel's stern, snapping and sizzling like a wall of fire, but traveling only at a moderate speed, the wind being light at that time. ‘When the storm struck the vessel it blew with the force of a hurricane, and for a time it looked as if the masts would be blown out. There was a great electrical display all over the rigging, and a great ball of fire floated near the mizzenmast and exploded with a report like that of a Krupp pen. The crew were dazed and nearly linded, but fortunately no one was serious- ly hurt.” The vessel labored heavily in the sea, and the wire rigging was ablaze with electricity. The storm soon cleared away, a the sea at once became as calm as be- ‘ore. sos His Mean Reply. From the Chicago Tribune. Mrs. Chugwater—“Josiah, did you ever notice how common it is for girls to look like their fathers?” Mr. Chugwater—“Of course I have. Most of them leck lke thelr fathers. That's ‘why so many girls’ faces are their for- tunes.” -soo—_____ Real Poverty. From the Chieago Post. “Is she really so poor?” “Poor! Why, it’s one of the most pitiful cases I ever heard of. She's too poor even to own a bicycle,” — Highest of all in Leavening Power.—Latest U.S. Gov't Report WASHINGTON’S RELI lians Call Him a M Their Church. From the Ladies’ Home Journal. “What Washington really believed as to the fundamental truths of Christianity, or 2s to non-essentials on which so many sec- tarian issucs have been raise: definitely stated. He inherited the Epis- copal form of faith by baptism, and Epiacoy throughout his life took an active part as | vestryman of that church. But even if he was ever confirmed in its faith, there 1s no reliable evidence that he ever took communion with it or with church. In short, it seems that the very honesty and integrity of the man caused him to refrain from the more spiritual forms of activity in the church. Possibly his mind, as have the minds of many men cf high moral character, followed the irra- tional bent of inseparably associating prin- ciples and profess.ons, and so looked ask- ance at creeds and dogmas, where the lives of their furemost advocates gave the lie to the profession of the lips. It is notable, however, that as time went on, the occasional indifference of his youth- ful days gave place to a r not devout, attitude with ference to re- cannot be | any other | spectful, even if | vVheir Religious Geysh Dance and the From the Sketch. The form of amusement of a dramatic nature that most interests the traveler in Japan ts the geyshad dance, also the Ka- | gura or common religious dance, and the Adzuma-mal, a religious dance performed | in the ancient Shimo-Gamo Shinto temple near Kyoto. These dances are not partic- { ularly amusing to witness, though all sights of the kind are more or less amus- | ing when witnessed for the first time. The best geysha dancing takes place in Kyoto, ! | the next best in Tokyo, but so-called gey- | sha dances may be seen in several of the! large towns. Almost more interesting to | however, are the religious dances. In} Kagura, for instance, the dancer i war-4 ment, a pair of flapping trousers, generally j of a brignt red color, and a long iranspa-4 rent covering formed like a cloak, and or-, namented with cesigns resembling crests. Her hair hangs down her back in single tress, flowers adorn her forehead, and her | face is besmeared with a white compound, | said to consist chiefly of whit, lead. In j hee hand she holds a bunch of small bell the | usually wears a loose white chemise Ngious matters. In a feeling of spiritual | tit is not unlike a child’s toy. This she indifference to the church it is not sur-| shakes at intervals ducieg the manne prising that, neglecting spiritval reasons, | Sometimes several girls dane one time, | he wrote, axa V The want | but in every case thelr movements are ace et a chaplain does re ishonor upon |; smpanied by a mournful, sacred chant, the regiment, as all other officers are al lowed.” And when he was urged to public Prayers in camp, so as to excite the curi- osity ard fuster the conversion of the In- dicr's, he ignored the recommendation. As to the Sabbath, he conformed to the local Virgiria habits. After service the day was largely given to riding, visiting, dining and to those janocent amtsements and gath- erings that many then believed to be es- sential safeguards of a community. From his childhood he traveled on Sunday when- ever occasion required. He considered it proper for his negroes to fish, and on that day made at least one contrac During his official busy life Sunday was largely given to his hon:e correspondence, being, as he says, the most convenie: day in which to spare time from his pub- lic burdens to look after his impaired for- tunes and estates. * * * The dominating trait of Washington's life was a sptrit of equity, which is the nearest approach to perfect justice. Nowhere, as far as I know, did Washington quote the golden rule. But if an attentive study of this man’s correspondence reveals any single rule of conduct as permeating his business and social affairs, it is represented by the Scriptural passage “As ye wouid that men ould do to you do ye also to them Ike- —-0-- — GREAT DEXTER. THE History of His Ancestry Career. From Seribrer's Magazine Mr. Jonas Hawkins of Orange county ob- and by a tune played upon a drum and, flute by priests. It is wrong to suppose, however, as many Europeans who have visited Japan do suppose, that the Mikako- odori dance is indecent. About the genuine seysha dance there is nothing even indelio cate or suggestiy -—-22—___ FROM WIRE TO T A New From the Jersey City Journal. The general public has but a faint idea of the strides that are making towerd perfec-, tion in matters electric, telegraphic and mechanic. When typesetting machines were invented it was thought that there could be no further improvement in that’ direction. It remained, however, for a! clever young man of Brooklyn, N. ¥., to demonstrate the practicability of using the typesetting machine in connect.on with telegraphy. About three years ayo tt oc- curreé to Mr. Frank J. Kihm, sp | graph operator of the Brooklyn Magle, that it would be possible to set in type ‘he tele- graphic news sent over the Associal-d Press wire. Hundreds of operators are copying telegrams with the aid of typewritess, and Mr. Kihm decided that with extra care and expertness a typesetting macnine could Oo be used with fair success. The ciitor of the Eagle at once placed a typesettiig machine at the operator's disposal, an: ter some weeks of practice, the telegraph wire of the Associated Press was extended to the com- posing room, and Mr tained from a strolling gypsy band 1 Gemonstrate the prac sabi rot his ides. brown mare, 15.2 hands, with four white! As the operator in the New York office of, feet. He used her for a family nag, and by the news association clicks o‘f “he dots and feet a i lack fi dashes they are simultaneousiy rejrodu: Seely’s American Star gota Seis lu y the giant telegraph sound- og foaled in 1845, which was name ara. | Kihm’s typesetting machine. As the d Ser-{ The filly became the property,of his son, } ent letters come over the wi r. Kihm Jonathan Hawkins, and she grew into a| touches the same letter on tne mare of 14.8 hands. She had a star, snip and three white feet, and was driven pretty hard on the country roads by her young master. In 1857, by Rysdyk’s Hamble- tonian, she had the paragon, Dexter. The brown gelding, with blaze and four white feet, was purchased by Mr. George 3. Alley for $400, and he subsequently be- came the property of Mr. A. F. Fawcett. Dexter, under the tutorship of Hiram Woodruff, made his first public appearance at Fashion Course, May 4, 1864. He met and defeated, during his short but brilliant turf career, such horses as General Butler, George M. Patchen, Jr., Lady Thorne and Goldsmith Maid, and he probably was in the enjoyment of more world-wide fame than any horse foaled on American soil. He brought Budd Doble into public notic and the sight of the white-faced gelding coming with tremendous force down the home-stretch inspired the loftiest dreams. The people swung their hats and shouted, “Hurrah for Dexter! Long live the horse of the centur: a Fleet Searchlight Drill. From the New York Sun Six of the seven warships of the re- board of the machine, and instantly ther : onding w mitted over the wire word has been formed, Mr. Kin the blank space button and of metal drops down other line ts s y nds ‘o expert has Mr. Kihm becom runs the machine with surprising s} with very few typographical errors. that he ed, and! He is the only telegraph operator in world who receives the news by ear and runs a typesetting machine with his fingers at ong and the same time. _ os - - 4 The Thander’s Long Ro From the Boston Traveler. The prolonged roll of thunder is readily explained by comparison with a volley‘ | fired along a line of troops. Suppose troops to be drawn up on a line in such numbers as to extend for a mile, and order j signal that all could see to fire at once. One standing at the end of the line would hear the report of the musket nearest bim instantly. He would hear the others suc- cessively, Thus a report fect away would come to him in half a second, and he would not hear the last report for tive or splendent white squzdron, anchored off| six seconds after the gun had bern tired. Tompkinsville, indulged in searchlight drill | This would produce a sort of roll, which aa : would gradually increase in intensity. If yaBt evenings So/ahe) enlOvEnent OF mani: 1 se Satenee wiped eunenly ealway tereorent Uitude of Staten Islanders along the beaches | the two ends of the line, the reports Prem | and in the hotels on the heights. The Cin-| both ends would reach him at once, und cinnati, which had been up at Bridgeport, the are apap tt x but a as long in returned yesterday afternoon to the Tomp-| TS" Te ane woldiers forned ann cae Kinsville anchorage, and so there were six | would be one sharp explosion. ‘Flashes ot vessels equipped with search lights to ex-/| lightning may be consiicred as sent- plore the heavens, the waters and thg| ing three lines of troops along which the shores in the neighborhood of the bay" | ¢ The vessels were the New York (flagship | of the squadron), the low-lying battle ship Indiana, znd the cruisers Columbia, Cin- cinnatl, Newark and Montgomery. The bottle-green ram Katahdin, lying inshore, merely displayed her masthead electric light. Signals for the drill appeared on the New York just after 8 o'clock. They were flashed by the Artois system. The lights of the squadron were ordered at times to pierce the air abeam of the brilliant elec- tric index of the New York; at other times they were directed to the eastward or west- ward in a broadside of brilliancy, and at other times they were concentrated at a point in the sky, causing an effect much | like the ribbons of a giant Maypole. ——— On the Modiste Plan. om the Cincinnat! Enquirer. “Lemme see,” calculated Mr. Philip Tank, “as near as I can figure it, I only paid $11 for the whisky and $5S at the hospital. It reminds me of one of your dresses.” “Why, dear?” asked his wife. “The tremens cost so much more than the goods.” plosions occur at the same time. Con- sider the variety of distance and position of | the listener, and we account for the variety of sound in thunder. In mountainous re- | gions the rolling is augmented by revere berations or echoes, 4 — -ce2— The Bicycle Ie! | From the Detroit F | Press. The professor is very pungtilious about the use of language. His youngest daugh- | ter has learned to ride a wheel, and the fact Is very apparent in her conversation. Now and then he moved uneasily in his chair, but he made no comment. After a time he sald: “Lucia, would you mind closing that door? I am getting as cold as an ike.” She arose to obey, and then turned with a puzzled look and in “As cold as a what “As cold as an ik “I don’t understand you.” “That is very strange. It s cord with your theory of ve | sion. If, bic: nsistentl a ‘bike,’ see no possible ot my alluding to an icicle as an ike TRE NEW and attitude observable in young ladies of tovay supposed to be the result of consiant devotion to the bicyele.—Punch. EXPRESSION at church parage and csewhere is