Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, October 21, 1894, Page 10

Tying her bonnet under her chin, 8he tied her raven ringlets in But not alone In her silken snare d she cateh her lovely floating halr or, tying her bonnet under her chin, She' tied a young man's heart within, I o 1 n . yo ou ey and from of a Minister a A Story VIEWS OF HISTORIAN JOHN CLARK RIDPATH s a Undemoeratic and Unamerlcan —Some Results— kngendeors Possism Many Other Bad Things A Strong Argument Strongly Put. BY STANLEY J. WEVMAN—Authorof “A Gentloman of France, [ (Copyright, 1894 the Author,) Y | o, do you think It was fair oty 1 tha, floating hair? best young western wind » play such tricks with her To gladly, gleefully do your To blow ' her against “the breast Where he had gladly folded her And kissed her mouth and dimp! by man's A few weeks before the death of the duch- | attachment of such persons gives him in the eas of Beaufort, on Baster eve, 1599, made so great a change In the relations of all at court that “Sourdis mourning’’ o be a phrase for grief, genuine by ested an affalr (hat might have ! Is sus began, imperceptibly at veriest trifie. One day, whils the king was still absent from Paris, T had a mind to play tennis. and for that purpose summoned La pe, who had charge of the balls, and sometimes 1n the absence of better company, played with me. Of te the balls he brought' had givén me small satisfaction, and I bade him bring me the bag, that I might choose the best. He did so, and I had not handled half a dozen beforo I found one, and later three others, 80 much more neatly sewn than the rest, and all points so superior, that even an untrained eye could not fail to detect the difference. “‘Look, man these for inspection. rest are rubbizh. Cann enoe? Where did you atant's?” Ho muttered, in, chin? I #aid, “have by th his na ry, o e an's remedy 6 1 An b This ¢ At What A she ery Vane, you little thought, ur ago, when you besought uniry lass to ‘walk with you, the sin had dried th terrible danger you tied her bonnet ur came ause Int 0 d a serlous the time, in xing the ler her chin, CHRISTIAN SCIENCE, 18 the Editor letters only of Mrs World-Herald have 1 saw Diego where he should ] his ac- ! OMAHA, Oct Bee: A few written for the 0 of The Peattie's escaped 1g-room at the tennis attention was presently recalled to however, in a rather remarkable man- | (S0 One morning Don Antonio d'Evora, | rotary to the Spanish embassy, and a | ther of that d'Evora commanded the panish fort at Paris in alled on me at | the arsenal, to which I had just removed and desired to see me. I bade them admit him, but as my secrotaries wera at the time at work with me, I left them and received | him in the garden—supposing that he wished | to speak to me, about the affair of § and preferring, like the King my mast has Rules i i ction o h tyrannizes and bruised and weakened and sppressions and wrongs dc and hopes of humanity. organization, seeing the hav turns about to make the e not mas! abuses is but I sald, holding out one of “These are balls; th t you see the diffe buy these? At Con- the very could learn nothing more He had n the man slip out, and that was all. But did you not go in yourself? [ sald, estraining my impatience with difficulty, “Afterwards? Yes, my lord 10 THE OMAHA DAILY BEE SUNDAY, OCTOBER 21, 1804 . And in the end 1 contented myself with bid- [ “And the king qligut to play with him. Let AMER‘CAN CM}CUS SYSTEM " b:e their alms and endnlnr]n‘lnn! :h‘e BONNET AND BRERZR, Aing him watch the Spaniard closely and re- | me soe it aima and ends of the people, and their exist- port to me the following evening, adding that | Diego sulkily held up his hand, and T saw ence is not for the public good. The more |he might confide the matter to La Trape, | & cut, ugly, but of no importance, Ju— they organize, therefore, the worse it is. | who was a supple fellow and of the two the | “Pooh!™ I sald; “It is nothing. Get some| ¢ % The caucus is down fn the botiom of this | easter companion. plaster, Herg * 1 continued wrathfully, | It is the Bad Man's Trap Into Which the rnnm-.n condition. The question s not how | . ordingly, next evening Maignan again | turning to ) “since you have done s Enticed. o better the caucus or how to render it tol- | gl g it Wegi s o Bl BN oy must repalr it. Get Good Man is Enticed. efable, but how to get rid of it. The caucus | TR O Bat P Cinoiwas By Ty hayene | womme pinsterby hear? He cannot play 18 0ne of the piles driven deop in the dark, | They were strolling together up the hill, . |y R R e | AT atata L i on which the party supérsiructy ast a8 | When the winds came biowing merry the Memoirs of | covered a plot worse than Chastel's, but it | e i 4 M the ruins of Bara-Budur, fs founded and | _ chill turned out that he had discovered mothing. | Diego mutt something, and Maignan reared. [t (he good man gets tnlo the catous | ARG It blew the curls & frolicsome tace Fra | The Spaniard had spent the morning in | that he had pt any; but betore 1 could Wi e T ek uch longer wiil | Allover the happy, peach-colored face, rance. | lounging and the afternoon in practice at|answer that st get some La Trape tho stperincumbent system tontinte 1y four. | il scolding and langhing, <he tied them 1n | the Louvre, and from first to last had con- | thrust his the front, and producing Iah 10 will continne o e pnae b9 flour | Under her beautiful dimpled” chin | ducted himselt in the most innocent manmer | a small pie his pocket proceeded with | palred and annuaily painted. Undet 11 (1 Ete. | posaible. On this I rallied Malgnan on his|a droll air extreme carefulness to treat millions who ought to be the greatest froe mare's n and was inclined to dismiss the | hand. The other knaves fell into the Piople (HEL Lhe St nas mntey then: oy matter ch; still, before doing 0, I joke, and the Spaniard had no option but to continue to crouch and groan for deliverance. thought T would see La Trape, and dismissing | submit, th “,ww!’m““m face showed that That kind of party which makes for tho ad public eye. Maignan [ sent for him. = he bore Malknk 8o good will, and that but vantage of mankind and the promotion of The man w of Diego, the | W nn..' o ws come. Well, for my presencejhe might not have been s0| o o for the aMictions | freedom 18 that which the people themselves | panlard, and which gradually u_anything to say Y complaisant, La Trape was bringing his | 2 CETORE G bt o good | Create In the presence of some crisis In e Liioks VR 9 One little thing only i excellency,” | gy roary to an'end by demanding a fee, in the | Of the great American body I that the good | BERES [ ¥ RHtlple, And Chuth. th. pro f his play, made hir much the fashion | lie answered slyly, “and of no importance, most comical manner possible, when the king | shall go to the caucus. The good man | morion ‘of tres institutions and the Srogevs that more (han one tried to detain him from | [t vou did ot tell It to Malgnan? returned t0 our part of the court. “What I8 | does not urge his fellow good men to €0 to | of the human race are at stake. my service. The king heard of him, and s I.pv‘:“\mgw\'m”“ tUpited, Ris twoe 1 it?” he gald. “Is anything the matter?' caucus, but the party manager urges | USES AND ABUSES OF PARTIBE AU B AU B R i Rttdiy g s hee” 1 aRld, My man has cut his | Thoth, Decause they don't go, he says,| A party thus springing Into existence may b B LR i led ekl g T i e UI LY BOUERE S sountry s sick, As & matter of fact, the | be of immense, almost Immeasurablo, ad soon afterwards, threw the court into mourn- | 0nco tod “Can he play?" Henry asked with the country is sick. As N scKS | Yt 1o His Souiey. AT X, Sespla g and for awhile, in pursuing the negotia- | ACE 4 FC OF customed good nature. caucus is the bad s trap, and the " | Which and among whom it makes its appear. e B L [ In the king's dressi "'Ob, yes, sire,” 1 answered. T have bound man is a fool to get into it! ance. But the moment that the party has Wb g MBI o L my | court.” 1t up with a strip of plaster from the ease In| "¢, of tne general phases of human his- | accomplished the end for which it came, that b scarcely knew| ‘“You saw him there?" your majesty's closet." ¥ s So ation, elvil, polit- [ MOMEnt marks the lmit of its natural and | K i i 18O AL L jtoprosly KASW [ . Saw hifih coming bt he answered “He has not lost blood?" i p LESL SR o the expense | ¥holesome life. ~Left to natural conditions |M? attention and enjoyment. 1 am an His et IS SUIIESOEIBA) DAELGEAn Yy SULE ORI} U5 ¥4 Fikg 1 (R TGEA (HOW-LT' Falb Of lokbe | NG, IRTIeE! feal or religlous, grows huge at the expense |\ \yo 4™y Lalinen ‘Tesolve Ttself into its elo. | AFdent admirer of the many useful hints, L ¢ this; for although [ might have thought nd he had not. But It was small|of freadom and progress, and having become | ments, to be recombined with the coming | Wise suggostions and beautiful thoughts she Ing this; for althoug & 8 My nothing of the matter before my suspicions | wonder that the king asked; small wonder | gt rong enough, puts society under its heel. | of some new fssue. Heyond {hat date, if it | from time to given the publ o, ot o ey {(an ImIght wiely | for the man's face had changed In the last|, 0" pe organisation begin to bulld and [ contiues to sutvive, it becomes like one of however, have their excaptions. Most N such a place out of curiosity—now, my mind | ten seconds to a strange leaden color; a i In iteelt against | N8 struldbrugs whom Captain Lemuol | ipoq imen must contess there are times Whetl being disturbed, 1 was quick to coneelve the | terror like that'offa wild beast that sees | contrive, in order to maintain o ‘ Gulliver met in Laputa! The traveler says | b . b | worst, and saw with horror my beloved | itself trapped had leaped into his eyes He punishment. It usurps and | that the struldbrug's faculties had been re l”‘u‘ are at their best, when their sube r already destroyed through my car shot a furtive glance around him, and 1 until mankind duced by the abuse of nature to the single | jects have not b carcfully and fairly 8. 1 questioned La Trape in a fury, | saw him slide his band behind him. But I diseased under the | Passion of getting &omething for nothing! [ dealt with, Our weiter does not was prepared for that, and as the king moved o to the liberties | 1 asked me,” said Gulliver, “that I would | yndarstand il Selefics Hes oft a space-1 slipped to the man's side, as if What next? The|SiVe him slumskudask! Tn the United | "giiifitt e lotter shows that withod{ pe that is done, ting to give him some directions about his game. States. tho struldbrug fs a senile political | £/ 8 O A “Listen,”” 1 said, in a voice heard only party, and the slumskudask is an appointive ;”fi which clalme him; “take the dressing off your hand, and office! If the good man wants to cultivate b o confess on on oy is a philosophy “No, my lord,” and looked i SatATIon roused then?" I said “Of a man day. ' “'Oh I sald “Yes, my lord.” “Some rogue of a maker,’ trom whom you bought filched goods! was ft, man?" 1 don't know his name, La Trape an- swered. “‘He was a Spaniard.” “well?” “Who wanted to ha excellency.” “Ho!” T said drily. “Now I Bring me your book. Or tell have you charged me for these balls?” “Two francs,” he muttered reluctantly. “And never gave you a sou, I'll swear,” retorted. You took the poor devil's balls and left him at the gate! Ay, it is roguss 1lko you that get me a bad name!” I contin- ued, affecting more anger than 1 felt—for, in truth, I was rather pleased with my quic ness tn discovering the ch “You stval and I bear the blame and pay to boot! Off with you and find the fellow, and bring him | to me, or it will be the worse for you! Glad to escape so easily, La Trape ran to tho gate, but he failed to find his friend, and two or three days elapsed before I thought again of the matter, such petty rogueries being ingrained in a great man's | valetaille, and being no more to be re moved than the Dairs from a man's arm. At the end of that iime La Trape came to me bringing the Spaniard, who had appeared again at the gate. The stranger proved to be a small, slight man, pale and yet brown, with quick-glancing eyes. His dress was decent, but very poor, Wwith more than one rent neatly darned. He made me a profound reverence, and stood waiting with his cap in his hand, to be ad- dressed, but with all his humility I did not fall to detect an uneasiness of deportment and a propriety that did not seem absolutely strango since he was a Spaniard, but which struck me, nevertheless, as requiring some explanation. I asked him, civilly, who he wai He answered that his name was Diego. ‘You speak French? “I am of Guipuzcoa, my lord,” he an- | swered, “where we sometimes speak three | tongues." “That s true,” T said. “‘And it is your trade to make tennfs balls?" ‘*No, my lord; to use them with a certain dignity. “You are a playcr, then?" “If It please your excellency.” “Where have you played?” “At Madrid, where 1 was the keeper of the duke of Segovia's court; and at Toledo, where [ frequently had the honor of playing against M. de Montserrat.” “You are a good player?” ‘It your excellency,” he pulsively, “will give me an “‘Softly, sditly, 1 sald, aback by his earnestne; my “Where, harply. who was at curlosity. the gate yester- “Selling tennis balls?" ' 1 exclaimed, Who an audience of your understand, me what ' he answered answered, Im- opportunity—'" somowhat _taken “Granted th Jou &re a player, you seem to have pla to small purpose. Why are you here, friend, and not in Madrid?" He drew up his wrist and showed me that s wrist was deeply scarred I shrugged my shoulders in the hands of the Holy said. “No, my lord,” he answered bitterly. the Holy Inquisition."” “You are a Protestant?" He bowed. On that I to cor more attertion, but at the same time with some distrust; reflecting that he was a Spaniard, and recalling the numberless plots against his majesty of which that nation Bud been guilty. Still, if his tale were true he deserved support; with a view there- fore 1o testing this, T questioned him far- ther, and learned that he had for a long time disguised his opinions, until, opening them In an easy moment 1o a fellow servant, he found himselt upon the first occasion of quarrel betrayed to the fathers. After suf- fering much, and giving himeelf up for lost in their dungeons, he made his escape in @ manner sufliciently remarkable, if 1 might believe his story. In the prison with him lay a Moor, for whose exchange agalnst a Christian taken by the Sallee pirates an order came down. It arrived in the evening; the Moor was to be removed In the morning. An hour after the arrival of the news, however, and when the two had just been locked up for the night, the Moor, overcome with excess of oy, sud- denly expired. At first the Spaniard was for Elving the alarm; but, being an Ingenious fellow, in u few minutes he summoned all his wits together and made a plan. Contriv- en his face and hands with char- nged clothes with the corpse, and mufMing himsell up after the fashion of the Moors in a:cold climate, he succeeded in the early morning In passing out In his place Those who ‘had charge of him had no reason to expect an escape, and once on the road he had little difiiculty in getting away, and eventually reached France after a succession of narrow escapes. Allithis the man told me so simply that 1| knew not which to admire more, the daring | ©of his device—since for a white man to pass for a brown is beyond the common scope of such disgulses—or his present modesty in re- | lating it. seemed to my mind a good reason for dis- | bellef. As to the one, I considered that an | Impostor would have put forward something ‘more simple, and as to the other, 1 have all my life long observed that those who have strange experiences tell them in a very urdl-! Bary way. -~ Besides, I had fresh in my mind | the diverting escape of the duke of Nemours rom Lyons, which I have clsewhere related. On the other hand, and despite all these | things, the story might be false; so with a view to testing oue part of it at least. I bade him como and play me that afternoon. | “My lord,” he said bluntly, “I had rather | mot. For if I defeat your excellency, T may defeat also your good Intentions. And if I permit you to win I shall seom to be an im- | poster."” Somewhat surprised by his forethought reassured him on thi whioh proved to be strength and finesse, and fairly on an equal- Aty, a3 it scomed to me, with that of the best | French players, persuaded me that at any Tate the first part of his tale was true, Ac. cordingly I made him a present, and, in ad- dition, bado Maiguan pay him a small allow- ance for a while. For this he showed his tude by attaobing himsolf to my house- i and as it was the fashion at that time $0 keep tennis masters of this class, I found | 4t occasionully amusing to pit bim against | other well known players. In the course of & fow wecls he galned mo great credit; and | I am not 80 foolish as to attach im- 08 (0 such trifiea, but, on the contrary, an old soldier who stood fast at Ooutras, or even a clerk who has served the king honestly—if such a prodigy there | be—wmore desorving than these professors, T not err on the other side; but count A& fool who, because he has solld cause value himself, disdains the eclat which my ““You have been Brotherhood?" I “ot dering him with I voint, and his game, | one of remarkable | usual preliminaries, whi | Diesc | opinion of your sagaci |an However, neither of these things | | turther, talk of matters of state In the open air. However, 1 was mistaken. Don Antonio said nothing about Savoy, but after the b a Spaniard never omits, plunged into a long harangue upon the comity which, now that peace reigred, should exist betwesn the two nations. For some time I waited patiently to learn what hie would be at, but he seemed to bs lost in his own eloquence, and at last I took him up. “All this is very well, M. d'Evora” I sald. “I quite agree with you that the times are changed, that amity is not the same thing as war, and that a grain of sand in the eye is unpleasant,” for he had said all of these things, “But I fail, being a plain man and no diploratist, to see what you want me to do.” “It is the smallest matter, ing his hand graceful “And yet,” 1 retorted, a difficulty in coming at it. “As you do at the gzrain eye,” ho answered wittily. ever, in what you say, M. de Rosny, there some truth. 1 feel that I am on delicate ground; but I am sure that you will parc me. You have in your suite a certain he said, wav- u seem to find of sand in the “After all, how 2 | “It may be 80, I said, masking my sur- prise, and affecting indifference. “A tennis player.” L shrugged my known,” T said. “A Protestant?” ‘It is not impossibl “And a subject of the king, my master. man,” Don Antonio continued, with iner ing stiffness, “‘in fine, M. de Rosny, after committing various offenses, mt d his comrade in prison, and, escaping in his | clothes, took refuge in this country.” I shrugged my shoulders again. “1 have no knowledge of that, coldly. shoulders. “The man is I sald , or I am sure that you would not har bor the fellow, the tary answered Now that you do kunow it, however, I take it for granted that you will dismiss him’ If you held any but the great place you do ld, M. de Rosny, it would be different; but all the world see who follow you, and this man’s presence stains you, and is an offense to my master."” “'Softly, softly, M. d'Evora,” I said, with a little warmth., *“You go too fast. Let me tell ou first, that, for my honor, I take care of it yself; ‘and, “secondly, for your master, I do not’ allow even, my own to meddle with my household,” “But, my lord,” he said pompously, ‘‘the g of Spain— Is the King of Spain, him short without kil I answered, cutting much ceremony. ‘But in the arsenal of Paris, which, for the present, i3 my house, I am king. And I brook no usurpers, M. d'Evora. He assented to that with a smile “Then I can say mo more,” he answered “I have warned you that the man is a rogue If you will still entertain him, I wash my hands of it. But I fear the oonsequences M. de Rosny, and, frankly, it lessens my onstrained Thereat I bowed in my turn exchange of some eivilities he took his leave. Considering his application after he was gone, I found nothing surprising it it; and ad it come from a man whom I held in greater respect I might have complied with it in an indirect fashion. But though it might have led me under some circum- stances to discard Diego, naturally, since it confirmed his story in some oints, and proved besides that he was not a persona grata at the Spanish embassy, it did not lead me to value him less. And as within the week he was so fortunate as to defeat La Varenne's champlon in a great match at the Louvre, and won also a match at M. de Montpensier’s, which put 50 crowns into my pocket, I thought less and loss of d'Evora’ remonstrance, until the king's roturn put It quite out of my head. The entanglement with Madamoiselle d'Entragues, which was destined to be the most fatal of all Henry's attachments, was then in tho‘forming, and the king plunged into every kind of amuse ment with fresh zest. The day after his re- turn he matched his marker, a rogue, but | an excellent player, agalnst my man, and laid me 20 crowns on the event, the match | to be played on the following Saturday after | a dinner which M. de Lude was giving in honor of the lady. On the Thursday come in to me after supper, but Malgnan, who, closing t door and dismissing the page who waited there, told me with a very long face and an air of vast importance, that he had discoy- something. Something?” 1 said, being inclined at the moment to be merry. “What? A plot to reduce your perquisites, you rascal? “No, my lord,” he answered stoutly. “But | to tap your excellency's secrets.’ 1 “Indeed,” 1 said pleasantl not believing a word of it. “‘And who is to hang?" | “The Spaniard,” he answered in a low voice. That sobered me, by putting the matter in w light; and F sat a moment. looking at him and reviewing Diego's stor which assumed on the iInstant an aspect so n- ommon and almost incredible that I won- dered how I had ever allowed it to pass. | But when I proce *d from this to the sub- nce of Maignan's charge I found an fm- | se In this direction also, and I smiled. So 1t is Diego, is it?"" I said. “You think | that he is a spy? Maignan nodded, Then, tell me,” I asked, “what opportu- | nity he of learning more than all the | world knowns? He has not been in my rtments since [ engaged him. He has seen nons of my pap The youngest foot- boy could tell all he has learned.' ““True, my lord," Malgnan answered slow- | “but—- and after the | however, while I was who should sittinig alone him this evening talking with a priest in the Rue Petits Pois; and he calls himself a Protestant.” “Ah! You are sure priest?" “I know him r whom ? of the chaplains at the Spanish em- that the man was a | It was natural that after this I could take a wore serlous view of the matter, and I did so. But my former difficulty still remained, for, assuming this to be a cunning plot, and d’Evora’s application to me a ruse to throw me offt my guard, I could not see where their advantage lay, since the Spaniard's occupation was not of a nature to give him the entry to my confidence or the chance of rausacking my papers. I questioned Maignan therefore, but without r It. Hel had seen the two together in a secret kind | of way, viewlag them himself from the win- dow of & house whero he had an assignation. Ho had not been near enough to hear what | they said, but he was sure that no quarrel touk place between them, and equally cen- tain that It was no chauce meeting that brought them togethe Infeeted by his assurance, T conld still see uo issue and mo object in such au Intrigue. | whom | naught and take from France her greatest “And made no discovery He shook his head. “Was anything prepared for his majesty “There was sherbet, and some water.” “You tried them?" La Trape grinned. my lord d. “But 1 gave some to Maignan Not explaining?" ‘‘No, my lord."” “You sacrilegious rascal in sp'te of my anxiety, the worse?’ “No, my lord." Not_satisfied yet, T continued to pre him, but with so little success that 1 still found myself unable to decids whether the Spaniard had wandered in innocently or to explore his ground. In the end, therefore, I made up my mind to s things for my self, and early next morning, at an hour when I was not likely to be observed, I went out by a back door, and with my f muffled and no other attendance than Maig- nan and La Trape, went to the tennis court and examined the dressing room. This was a small closst on the first floor, of a size to hold two or three persons, and with casement through which the king, if he wished to be private, might watch the game. Its sole furniture conssted of a little table with a mirror, a seat for his majesty and a couple of stools, so that it | offered small scope for estigation. True, the stale sherbet and the water were still there, the carafes standing on the table b side an empty comfit box, and a few toilet necessaris and it will be belleved that I 10st no time in examining them. But [ made no discovery, and when I had passed m eye over everything else that the room con- tained and noticed nothing that seemed in the slightest degree suspicious, I found m; self completely at a loss. I went to the window and for a moment lookéd idly into the court. But neither and I had leave when thing and 1 opped. “What is that?" I said. It was a thin case, book shaped, of Genoa velvet, somewhat worn Mlaist the door, is not we he- 1 cried, amused And he was none did any turned again my eye light coma thence, and was about to alighted on a certain Maignan, who was waiting at answered. “His majesty’s hand 11 yet, and as your excellency knows, Silence, fool!” I crled, And I stood rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by the con- viction that I held the clew to the mystery, nd 50 shaken by the Norror which that cor vietion mnaturally brought with it that I could not move a finger. A design so fisnd- ish and monstrous as that which I suspected might rouse the dullest sensibllities, in a case where it threatened the meanest, but being aimed in this at the king, my master, from whom [ had received so many benefits and on whose life the well-being of all de- pended, it goaded me fo the warmest re- sentment. 1 looked round the tennis court— which, empty, shadowy and silent, seemed a At place for such horrors—with rage and repulsion, apprehending in a moment of sad presage all the accursed strokes of an enemy nothing could propitiate, and who, or later, must set all my care at sooner benefactor. But it will be said I had no proof, only a onjecture; and this is true, but of it here- atfer. Suffico 1t that as soon as T had swallowed my Indignation I took all the pr cautions affection could suggest or duty en- join, omitting nothing; and then, confiding the matter to no ona—the two men who were with ma excepted—I prepared to ob- ve the issue with gloomy satisfaction. The match was to take place at 3 in the afternoon. A little after that hour I arrived at the tennis court, attended by La Font and other gentlemen, and M. 'Huillier, the councilor, who had dined with me, L'Huil- lier's business had detained me somewhat nd the men had begun; but, as I had anticipated this, [ had begged my good friend Do Vic to have an eye to my interests. The king, who was in the gallery, had with him M. de Montpensior, the comte de Lude, Vitry, Varennes and 'the Florentine am. bassador, with Sancy and some others, Mlle. d'Entragues and tw ladies had taken posession of his closet, and from the case- ment were pouring forth a perpetual fire of badinage and bons mots. The tennis court, in a word, presented as different an aspeet as possible from that which it had worn in the morning. ~ The sharp track of the ball as it bounded from side to side, was almost lost In the ecrisp laughter and babel of voices; which as I entered rose into a perfiot uproar, mademoiselle having flung a whole lapful of roses across the court in return for some witticlsm. These, falling short of the gallery, had lighted on the head of th astonished Diego, causing a temporary cessa tlon of play, during which [ took my seat Mme. de Lude's saucy eye picked me out | In a moment. “Oh, the grave man!" she cried. “Crown him, too, with roses.” “As they crowned the skull at the feast, ame swered, saluting her gallant] “No, but as the man whom the king de- lighteth to honor,” she answered, making a face at me. “Ha! ha! I am nol afraid! I am not afrald! I am not afraia? There was a good deal of laughter at this. “What shall 1 do to her, M. de Rosn mademolselle cried out, coming to rescue. “If you will have the goodne mademoiselle,” [ answered, "I will consider it an advance, and as one of the council of the king's finances my credit should be good for the re—" “Thank you!" the king cried, nimbly eut- ting me short. “But as my finances- soem to be the security, faith, [ will 1o the repayment myself! Let them start again: but T am afrald that my 20 crowns are yours, grand master; your man is In fine play.” 1 looked into the court. Diego, lithe and sinewy, with his cropped black hair, high color ‘and quick shallow eyes, bounded here and there, swift and active as a panther. Seeing him thus, with his heart In his re. turns, 1 could not but doubt more; as the game proceeded, amid the laughter and jests and witty sallies of the courtiers, T felt the doubt grow; the riddle became cach minute more abstruse, the man more mysterious But that was of no moment now. A little after 4 o'clock the match ended in my favor; on which the king, tired of in action, sprang up, and declaring that he would try Diego's strength himself, entered the court. I followed, with Vitry and others and several strokes which had made were tested and discussed. Presently, the king going to talk with mademoisello at her window, I remarked the Spaniard and Malg n, with the king's marker, and one or two others waiting at the further door. at the same moment I observed movement among them, and v higher than was decent, and I sharply to know what it was “An’ accident, my lord answered respectfully. “It is uothing,” another muttered nan was playing tricks, your excelle cut Dicgo's hand a little; that is all” o my s to Kiss her, a sudden ices raised called out one of the men “Malg cy, aad Almost | “Cut his hand now!" I exclaimed angs: I have you broken on the wheel. You under- stand? Now, play.” Assuring myself that he did understand, and that Maignan and La Trape were at hand if he should attempt anything, I went back to my place, and sitting down by De Vie began to watch that strange game; while mademoiselle’s laughter and Madame de Lude's gibes floated across the court, and mingled with the eager applause and . more dexterous criticisms of the courtiers. The light was beginning to sink, and for that reason, perhaps, no one perceived the Span- ard’s pallor; but De Vic, after a rally or two, remarked that he was not playing his full strength “Wiseé man!" he added. Yos,” I sald. "“Who kings plays ill. De Vic laughed, “How he sweats!” he said, “and he never turned a hair when he played Colet. 1 suppose he is nervous.” Probably,” T said: And so they chattered and laughed— chattered and laughed, seeing an ordinary game between the king and a marker, while I, for whom the court had grown sombre as a dungeon, saw a villain struggling in his own toils, livid with the fear of death, and tortured by horrible apprehensions. Use and habit were still so powerful with the man that he played on mechanically with his hands, but his eyes every now and then sought mine with the look of the trapped beast, and on these occasions 1 could see his lips move in prayer or cursing. The sweat. pouredsglownjple faco a» he moved to and fro, and 1 funcled that his features were beginning to twitch. Presently—l have said that the lighty wag falling, so that it was not in my imagination only that the court was sombre—the king held his ball. “My friend, your man is not well,”" he said, turn- ing to me. It is nothing, sire; the honor him makes him ddrvous,” I answered. up, sirrah,” 1 continued; you make good a courtier.” Mademoiselle d'Iutragues hands and laughed at the Diego glare at her with an Indescribable look, in whick-hatred and . despair and a lorror of reproach were o nicely mingled Witk something as_exceptional as his posi- tlon, that the, whole baffled words. Doubt- less’ the gibes and laughter he heard, the trifling that “went on around him, the very game in awvhich he was angaged, and from which heé“fared not draw back, seemed in his eyes the most appalling ‘mockery, but ignorant who were in the secret, unable to guess how his diabolical plot had been dis- covered, uncertain even whether the whole were not a concerted plece, he went on play- ing his part mechanically; with starting eyes and laboring chest, with lips that, twitching and working, lost color each minute. At length he missed a stroke, and staggering leaned against the wall, his face livid and ghastly, The king took the alarm at that, and cried out that something was wrong. Those who were sitting rose. I nodded to an to to the man. e e Bt T aald “He s subfect to them, and doubtless the excitement—but I am sorry that it has spoiled your majesty's E4THE has not,” Henry answered kindly. “The light is But have him looked to, will you, my friend? If La Riviere were here he might do something for him." While he spoke the servants had gathered round the man, bat with the timidity which chara rizes that class in such emergencies, they would not touch him. As I crossed the court, and they made way for me, the Span- fard, who was still standing, though in a strange and distorted fashion, turned his bloodshot eyes on me. “A priest,” he muttered, framing the words with difficulty, a prist.” 1 directed Malgnan to fetch one. “And do you," I continued to the other servants, “‘take him into a room somewhere.” They obeyed reluctantly. As they carried him out the king, content with my statement, was giving his hand to modemoiselle to de- scend the stairs; and neither he nor any, #ave the two men in my confidence, had the slightest suspicion that aught was the matter beyond a natural illness. But I shuddered when 1 considered how narrow had been the King's escape, how trifling the circumstance which had led to the suspicion, how fortu- itous the inspiration by which I had chanced on discovery. The delay of a single day, the occurrencs of the slightest mishap, might have been fatal not only o him, but to the best interests of France, which his death at the time when he was have plunged into the war Of the wretched Spaniard I need say little more, Caught in his own snare, he was no sooner withdrawn from the court than he fell into violent convulsions, which held him until midnight, when he diéd with symptons and under circumstances so n e which had attended the death of Mme. de Beaufort at Easter, that I have se eral times dwelt on:the strange coincidence and striven to find the connecting Hnk I never hit on it; and the king's death, and that unexpected tendency to Imitate great crimes under which the vulgar labor, pre- vailed with me to Keep the matter secret Nay, as | believed that d'Evora had played the part of an unconsclous tool, and as a hint pressed home shficed to procure the with drawal of the chaplain whom Malgnan had named, I did not think it necessary to dis- close the matter; eyen 1o the king my master. plays well against A ao lay too yo clapped her hit, and I saw ne. most melancholy No Tiwa for Muale, There s somelhing saddening about the woman who 10 play the plano before she was married,” Writes Kate Field. You feel that you would like to have known her before the song went out of her life; before the enthusiasm AL time upon mere pleasure a possibility Teft her. She says she has not the leisure to practice, but It Is often not so much the lack of half an hgur or more daily as it Is the loss of viyaclgus encrgy. She has learned to trudgeffrgn yesterday to tomor- row instead of dapcipg the days through as she used to. T mwed for musle is gone. A lady who was sgoken (0 by one of her friends on this subject was candid and epi grammatic. ““Walt until you get married she said. “Unless you are rich you will do as [ have done. You can not devote your attention to keeping up your music and keeping down your expenses at the san time." used Haa Indianapolis Journal on the edge of the folding bed the ot night,” said the Cheerful Idiot, “playing soli taire, when all of a sudden the blame thing osed up on me. 1If it had not been for my - o Toals. "y 1 was sitting er presence of mind I think I should have been | smothered.” “Had sense enough to call for help, 1 sup pose,” asked the dyspeptic boarder, “Didn’t do anything of the kind. I merely selected a pair of jacks from the deck and opened It with that,"” il childloss must | of | arly resembling | But | Kes the lavishment of | as respectable as possible; and to this end the bad man dresses like a eclergyman and wants the good man to help him! This Is the method of political parties. They generally begin fn a righteous agitation against the wrongs and oppressions in society and end by doing the same things them- selves. When they begin to grow old, when petuating and supporting their own interosts when the issues which they defend or antag- then they turn about to prove to the world that they have always been great and good W0 respectable. Henceforth the mission of such an organization s to take the people in To do this requires a vast deal of contriv anc Among the subordinate methods by which the political party manages to keep Its seat on the breast of the nation, the caucus is, perhaps, the most successful—and the most odious. A HOOK FOR THE MASSES. : t all agencles, the caucus i the particu- Im")n;::-u-'ygn'llh-h enables a political party to hook itself fast to the masses, and to drag them on. This touch and fastening of the or- ganization to the people has to bo carefully managed, and its nature must be concealed under the veneer of respectability lf»(l to its own devices, the caucus becomes disrepu- table, and Is_known to be so. It tries to de- fend itsalf by saying that it is a meeting of people for the promotion of good causes. On the contrary, it Is a conspiracy of a small part of the people against the rest than the public meeting; but the claim of the caucus {o bo in the nature of a public meet- ing is a pretense and nothing more. The sen sible patriot knows well what the cancus is for. He understands that it is meant to pro- mote personal interests, and r ally Lo prevent the expression of public opinion. In propor- tion as the caucus prevails, public opinion weakens, declines, perishes The newsp: organ. generally belongs to the s I it doos not, then the central committee must buy that organ, and replace it with another that better understands the nature and pur- 0se of journalism! P & condition in- political soclety we have; and the good man is asked to back it The caucus is as malodorous as the crime of Hamlet’s step-father, and the good man s wanted for a disinfectant! The managers of thoe caucus understand well enough the public estimate that s placed upon their machine and themselves, They do not care much for the estimate. It does not argue that because sompbody defers to public opinion he s therefors, in love with public opinion. In fact, the greatest deference if often shown in the presence of that which is hated. When the caucus does obelsance to society it 1s for advantage. The caucus knows well that it is not.hore for the public good. It knows well that it Is invented as a politic I} hook to hold fast the masses to the machine. I L\:n knows that It is discovered, found out, pla- carded in the consclences of men if not in their public speech. ; i SALVATION DOESN'T LIE THIS WAY. This Is the situation which makes it nec essary, they say, for the good man to go to the caucus. He is o be a saver of life unto life. Thousands, perhaps millions, of people believe that if the good man would go to the cavcus we should find salvation. Asa nm':ll: of fact, alvation does not lie that way. The good man, following his instinctive sell respect, stays away,; and the caucus is lllfll on the' defenaive. The absence of the good man discountenances both the thing done Mv“ the method of doing it. It fs this fact which as kept the American caucus in a state e e alatm and trepidation for the last quarter of a century. Knowing that it is disparaged, it squats and hides and flour- ishes—if at all— in the dark. The absence of the good man is the saving clause. His presence wauld be the prophecy of the con- tinuance of that political domination which has virtually put under foot the noblest en- terprises of our people and uppressed the in te lectual 1i'e in the Unite ] Stutes; Lis ab ence means the ultimate extinction of the whole system. If the good man goes to the caucus | he takes his goodness with him. He takes his consclence, his innocence and his in- experience. When he enters the door the bad man gives a sigh of relief. He is coun- tenanced by the good man, who now comes | to associate with him and help him save the country. The bad man's assistant, less con- spicuous, winks. The chalrman, one of the | bad man's friends, says in his openeing re- marks that the caucus Is pleased, delighted. | to have present the good man, whose name | and re putation, ete. | “"It "does not require any great degree of astuteness to that the absenc of the d man from the caucus is one of those in facts in soclety that always make othing is more certain than that it the caucus is allowed to go its own way with the bad man at the helm It will sooner | or later come to naught, go to its own place | and become an ancient and bad-smelling rominiscence. On the other hand, If the | good man lends his presence, his influence and his character to the caucus he may be sure he will have his labor for his pains So far as this appearance of the good man at the caucus may be ard as a measure |of reform, pah! What does the bad man who owns the caucus want with the good | man after the caucus has adjourned? The | good man finds to his sorrow that the only visible effect of his presence at the caucus has been, first, the vendue of his own repu | tation and self-respect, secondly, the indefi | nite perpetuation of the worst facts in po- litical soclety. THE CAUCUS AND POLITICAL PARTIES. What then? says the interlocutor. 18 not | the political party good? Must not the po- | | litical party organize? Is not the republic a | government by means of party? And if the | political party finds it necessary to make the | caucus 1ts mudsill, sl | we not accord Hu: right, and even applaud the contrivance Let us answer frankly and without equivo- cation. Let us answer just as the father of his country answere Let us answer with- out fear, as the patriot must answer if he keeps his integrity and follows the star of truth. If any political party be good In free country, it is not such as the American political party has become. Suc fact was | not contemplated w 1 the republic was | de | o | stinetive for good onize are no longer real but merely fictitious, | Certainly po act of soclety 1s more salutary | they have become merely the agents of per-| .y i p1e he can do so; the way to such and comerco of character is by the caucus. The gre organization beyond its course there is no real life an organization when its in gone and its existenca factitious means. A party the national limits of struldbrug. natural riginal perpe thus and tubes and screw-tap: ism. In the United States election makes it pe stein in operation. our sible to keep He is easily rulers and bosses of the Amerie Frankenstein has to be lubricated is oil enough! to any question whatsoever. time he Is so At t arranged that both tracks at the same time. fess anything, country in! If thereby It can multiplled millions in strength, right, to corflict, with the vast time and means, without a_single question of difference, and for the pose of and keepers of Fr divide and fling then ikenstein! from one crisis to the next dential term were lengther a struldbrug party could through the desolation period. A blessed It hardl f the salvation resume its wont life would revive, and the merican people’ would no sumed in an everlasting broil which the gonfalons of of false as those of thu other, OPEN MEETINGS OF CITIZ With the breaking of partisan the caucus would necessarily end i stroke; the resourc longe e meeting of the citizens. hold off unti the - bad man mense damage, we sorrowfully con run his machine into wreck and d he does not approve. him Let him n ma native of choosing betwe and something worse. n the caucus management. The cry fs seminated by the organs ment; and thousands are The bad man needs the knows It—needs him so willing to stoop and defe 1o beat him! will continue in more emphatically. the man's c 50 to his saying th sternation through the wh 1d will hasten thé d republic shall ome " again now, and has not for long government of tke people, for the p by them. JOH Greencastle, Indian; e RS UBLALITIES, is the interested echoed of the good much 1o him: th his present man ucus, but he wil -5 ducing 2,000 seeds in one season. Green Co before the ding last week, in Moberly, Mo, Mr. and Mrs, John J Invitations for the marriage of th daughter, Ethel, and Dr. Edward ( in Atchison, October married a lovely Scotch damsel of figured one of. the represent the congress of beauties held at autumn, In putting the “question of que Jeanie, by and b, thus the thing was settled She—Before we were married y would give you the greatest pleasurs ify my every wish. My dear, 1 sald I do it, too. The Chicago woman second time because told her that it sire, is now suing vorce the me He say it ried? She—Really, T don't know he would say I was a bigger thought I was. v?'" She sa your light who marrie a spirituali was her dead hu her new sage. we fool nance against flirting on the publi There is 10 city in the world where are prettier or more inclined to they are {n Richmond. They more be their privileges. Phillip Stutz, a farmer sonville, Ind., and his wit remarkable matrimonial ers in childhood they w but, failing to agree, were few years th married. ARA married, and divorce, and last New Albany, thus being three vorced and remarried. Mr. Stutz . and, as evidence that his in herselt in single blessed when last iarried, the owner nillinery store in New Albany. clare thelr intention of separating n eer re early livorced again did they wok were rom. even founded. Such a fact was not allowed to influence the administration of the first pres- | ident. He perceived that the political party | in a republic would soon come to exist for itself, withoul regard 1o the interests of the untry or the happiness of mankind. The sequel has been ever The political party looks upon the interests of the country and the happiness of mankind with the ul terior design of profiting by them! That Kind of political party which forms Itself fc defence of a great principle, the principl being clearly for the advantage of the nation and the ultimate gain of humanity 1t it ever did exist—in exlsts these lands no longer | hir | We have the powerful and compact organisa- | ¢ Mrs. Haseman, & Chicago widow, rejocted the suit of Mr. Jacobson mediately hired a German band tunes with suggestive titles un Baseman's window. The lady s smiles of her nelghbors and the virtue that it Is supposed to be playlng on the ground that Mr. had patd well for the music, nt to court and secured an the dlsappoluted lover, trom giving such slon to his woe. This shows Mrs ) be a woman of uerve and action, against to he either way, or both ways, on either track or A party thus turned into the struldbrugian con- dition will readily and enthusiastically pro- the society and intercourse of the struldbru he A evil Is the persistency of party life. or virtue in such prine tuated surviving its existence It is a political Frank- enstein, made merely of leather and springs moved by galvan- rlasting ranken- I turny this task and to that, for the benefit of the an peof but there He has become adjustable he pre can polit take Great are the spoils of battle Great is the process by which a free people, are m. ev.n against their consclences and sense of Ives expenditure of their sole i aining official seats for the owner If our perpetual election were abolished it would be difficult to keep the monster alive the pr i to seven year: survive y septen and atrophy would supervene all the way from the caucus to the natlonal committee; enterpri o W intellectual s of robe nd warfare, in party are ENS. ontiny Its p would be taken by the public and the open The way to pro- mote such a result is for thy good man to with te: dust. the good man continue to follow his unerring instincts and lend himself to nothing which ot pers elt to become the tool and instrument of mischlef by joining himself with the bad in his work; for thereby he shall put himself evermore into a position where ho will be reduced on election day to the alter- something bad The outery that the good man must g0 to cry of and d mana decsived there man, o hat he and then The good man, if he is wise, ner, o He will not only not go to 1 tell b The report of the good man's t e will not go will spread con- e political realm, el the American it s years been cople, CLARK RIDPATH. A single plant of wheat is capable of pro- ts and his wife, who were slayes war, celebrated thelr golden wed- Ingalls have issued eir eld les Bl A Toledo patriarch, 76 years of age, has 18, who f ative: oledo 1 stions, said to gr u ost wi d for med! hand's husband for di- because he hired the medium to give What do you think your father would were to rum away and get mar- but 1 imagine than The city of Richmond has adopted an ordi- c stree the gi flirt th will flirt all the | ause of the attempted restriction of | Jiving near Joffor- | mankind I8 built that way. Mary have had & | Being lov- | & marri After came together and were re 1 were they divorced and re re arried times 18 well-to- wife can main of a large Thoy 0 more who | to pl der M tood ¢ persistenc of the band until patience ceased to ba the | Then b pleaded with the leader, who refused to stop | FIng, “Stand still Jacob: Thereupon she Injunction restraln objectionable expres- Basem, door of she unity for mind and matter, and for mind | and “spirit, and for spirit and God." And again, “But briefly as the simple unlerstand the laws of this teaching, spirit and mattee are one, Spirit I8 God-all is God. The Christian ntist refuses to recognize mate If, as stated, ot spirit and matter ars one, and spirit is God, and we refuse to recognizg matter, then it follows that we must, ace cording to correct reasoning, refuse to recogy nize Ged, a conclusion which is totally ab rlance with the fundamental precepts of The talented writer also says We do declare the omnipotencs omnipresence of God, but could nevep our conclusions from the premises down in our writer's article. ~ We do not claim the unity of spirit and matter, but declare them opposites; the one real; the other unreal; the ona positive, the other negative: the one all powerful and dostroys ing through A scientific action the falsity of the other. We all know that light dispels darkness, The Christian Sclentist knows when the light of truth appears the darke ness of error disappears. A thought only have I given, and that for the purpose of correcting the error In the above statement, So great are the possibilities of Christian Science, s0 numerous its o and intelli- gent followers, so wonderful the unfolling of its truths, so deop and inexhaustiblo its subject, T do’ not feel called upon to advers tise it through the newspaper columns or to attempt an explanation of its profound truths through the same channel when I am a bes ginner ouly at the numeration table of this | science. Yes, wa do try to make practica- ble the teachings of Jesus, IHe gave us the undivided garment. He commanded us to | heal the sick, as well as preach the gospel. His work seems miracles to the world to a student of Christian Science a natur tulfillment of the Divine law. With regard to the assertion, “The fact remains that by the ineistence of the leaders in this Christ healing upon those who do not belleve, great harm s inflicted. [ beg 1o say it is not the custom to thrust our views upon any one, or to act apart from common sense and sound judgment. There are times when we Jjudiciously offer our sery but in nearly every instance the aid is sought. Nor do we ignore the fais evidence, but earnestly seck to displace with the correct—that is, we seek to de« stroy the effect of an unscientific law with the “truth of the Eternal law, which pros ceedeth from the one Perfect Cause. § A prize essay of the Boylston Mediéal so= ciety of Harvard university by E. W. Taylor, A.B. of Harvard, had' for its subjcct '“The Mental Blement in the Treatment of Dis- ease.” T will quote a few lines from ex- tracts of the essay I saw not long ago: ver in the history of medical science has the subject of mental therapeutics as- sumed such proportions and excited 80 pro- found an_interest as within the last few years. The mysticism and vaguencss of former theorizing in this field has, in a great measure, been laid aside, and the time, It not here, is apparently coming when the same tests of truth and the same fairness of con sideration will be applizd to facts of the mental life as have heretofore with such brilliant results been applied to facts of the physical life. The natural tendency in most minds has been consistently to ignore the mental element and lay stress solely upon its physical relative LT ts practic pect, however, on the side of results the doctrine demands recognition, Cures have been and are being effected by those professing the principles of Christian Scler This probably 1o one will now deny. Physiclans In regular practice can afford neither to deny the fact nor to neglect its investigation. ~We do not belicve such cures are caused by adherence to unproved metaphysical notions, Certainly, we must seck a more rational explanation, and one more in accord with the facts of experlence.! With much study, thought, research and honest and unselfish application of the rules of Christian solenco one could never for an instant be “almost impelled to pronounce the whole beliet as fraudulent, frantic and in- sane.” The Christian Scientist has but one remedy for both the imaginary and “the bona fide disease,” and the latter Is as unreal to us as the former. The law which sustains muu's being in one case will In the other also, Charcot may see no good in hypnotism, Elliott Coues may have found diversion in theosophy, but the discoverer and founder of Christian Science is as firm, steadfast and convinced of the immortal truth today as in in i the beginning—twenty-eight years ago. A ast | fair and unbiased consideration of the many cases healed by Christian Sclence, a search alinto the which brings about these ef- iple by s a and draw 1o 1aia ple. ent run fcal the ade, into 1tial ur- nial uld th on- as uity lace im- hall Let mit the 1 Ke- and is nly iiin not a nd st lair cotchman took his inamorita to his family | fects, an insight into the motives, and a proof burial ground, and said, “Would ye lie there, | d she would, and of certain actions, deemed by the world olly and frenzy,” would do away with much harsh judgment and condemnation. Amid ac- cusations, condemnations and persecutions we faint not, but pre on—blessed assurances | lighten the burde We are solving the prob- sh, [lem with mathematical certainty. A failure today causes us to turn our gaze more stead- ily to the light tomorrow. If the work seems unsatisfactorily done, does that prove a flaw in the principle? We have risen above the compounds of materia medica; from the de- coction of reptiles, Spanish files, mineral and | animal poisons, which were administered 2687 B. C. to the present mild remedies of bread pellets and pure water—to find, what? Come and see, No photograph can picture the abode; no phenegraph can convey the hare monies; no circuit can transmit the peace and | rest, for the abode 15 in Soul, the action ig Mind, peace and rest in the Real A STUDENT OF CHRISTIAN SCIENCE, - Siub Endy Detroit Free Press: conversationalist Necessary evils it at- s | the n de- | 15 rls han Money is a powertul are necessary because It's a long way up the hill hout the bl all the time, Sarcasm wmay be right, shadow i People talk a lot ab | they do it; afterwa | An ounce of ac ton of intention The sky is tim It if you think il but it casts @ o it marrylng befors rd they think about It. - omplishment (s worth & fn never all blue at the samse everybody was perfect what would ps do for interesting material re may be plenty of room at the top, happiness deesn't always get there the de ty | m ay o he New York W not enough tha | should enforco a regular that all can understand Second Citizen First Citizen—W but It might be so Firat Citizen—It Is carry bells; the law system of sighals uld you suggest? 1 don't know exaclly, sthing ke tkis: Oné 0 rings, ‘‘Dodge to t i three rings, “'Dive ts the loft"; foup Jump strateht up wad il ron undes ou; five rlngs, “Turn a back handspring nd land behind me,” and #0 on. You see us folks who walk &re lways glad (o he ade comiodating, but the trouble ia to Aind owd | what the fellow benind uz wants us to do. on an