The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 9, 1896, Page 19

19 MISS DELYS TWO TYRANTS, ONE MADE LIFE MISERABLE ’ , WHILE THE OTHER GAVE HER HAPPINESS. Miss Dely was down at the spring place. It was an area of soft turf a few yards square, worn by footpaths, lying in a basin between two hilis. The branch ran through it and kept the grass green and tender, and | the spring, which bubbled cold and de- | licious at the foot of a giant planetree, con- tributed its largess to this end. A little | square of wet earth just below the spring was almost constantly marked by hoof- pats. An expert rider, swinging downward | from his seat, could easily grasp the long- handled gourd that hung from the tree’s | brown bole and refresh himself and his | horse at the same time. | Dely bad spread the long breadths of cotton sheeting, which had just come from hér loom, on the grass to bleach, and seemed now to be studying the hoofprints. Her eyes wandered from them to the farmhouse on the hill, and again to the mountain which lifted its blue shoulder above the crest of the nearest hill. “It do vintedly seem like ma gits wus- ser and wusser the hull time. Iain’t hed 8 mite of peace all summer,” said Dely, addressing the hoofprints. | “Why she should suspicion ’at them ar | hoofmarks war made by Alec Penlan’s | horse I cayn’t surmise. An’ Bob Wilson | a-comin’ reg’lar an’the license got an’| everything.” “Oh, Miss Dely, Miss Dely!” called a the heart of woman so hard? I'lowed ye al’ays knew 'at I loved yer ever sence we went ter schule together over yon,’’ sobbed Alec, in arush of emotion that attested his absolute sincerity. Miss Dely’s mood changed. She began to cry heartbrokenly. 18 “What's the use-er-tellin’ on it now? she sobbed. : Igig Alec Penland grew as weak as a aby. “Dely, if you won’t come out hyar I'm er- comin’ in thar,” he cried, and in_another minute he had her in his strong arms. = It was only for a second, however. Dely’s sobs stopped suddenly. She struggled to get free, “Aint yer ’shamed, Alec Penlan’, an’ | me most ez good ez married ter Bob Wilson!” Alec released her instantly and stood looking at her, his face drawn and pale. “You act like a plumb fool, Alec,” whimpered Dely. 9 i . feckon mabby I do,” said: Alec, humbly. 7 e He looked at her, his heart sxnkmfi he saw thut she was trembling for al i harsh words. The insurgent love dared to snatch ata new-born hope. “Dely!” he began. “Dely, Dely, Dely!” called a sharp, men- acing voice. “That's ma!” exclaimed Dely, wildly. +Oh, Alec, don’t let her see ye. She’ll but her she banged hit when Bob axed fer me, an’ she banged bLit ergin_when Susan Harris brung home my weddin’ gown.” soft, drawling yoice. If she meant to cut him to the heart by | hung over a hook. | loose, turn me loose! bang her head ergin the wall was ’n_ever | penitentiary I yelled the victin. g T Y-y | There? Don't | THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1896. “‘She’s down ter the springplace, but I don’t reckon that consarns you.” boAllec'u heart beat hard, but he answered 1dly : “Yes it do, me’am, bekass me an’ Dely air goin’ to git married.” “No, you ain’t,”” snapped the old woman. “I ain’t goin’ ter have you hangin’ 'round here tryin' to steal my da'ter.” Alec’s face lightea. If he had known Shakespeare he might have said: );:' thee, Jew, for teaching me But he only repeated: ““Yes, we be.”” . “I cay you shan’thev’er. Alec Penlan’, you git out o’ my house.” Alec sat immovable. ‘_-E'fwyuu git her yow’ll wish yer hadn’t,” said Mrs. Townshend. Alec's face hardened. “Dely is a good gal an’ you ain’t no call to talk thataway about ~yer da’ter. I don’t ever want to hear no more o’ that.” | She stared at him dumfounded, then, | starting up, hurried to the side wall and beat her head against it till the partitions creaked. Alec glanced around. A long wool scarf On another hook were suspended two or three saddle girths, In another second Mrs, Townshend sud- denly felt herself grasped around the waist and borne forcibly to the old splint rocker. She screamed, struggled, kicked and bit, and though a church member said some awful words, It was of no use. Deftly and quickly. though as gently as possible, Alec boun her firmly in thechair and bound the chair to the tall, four-poster bedstead, and con- fined her hands and feet. *‘I’se reely afeared ye might hurt yerself, Mis’ Townshend,” he said kindly. ‘‘Alec Penlan’, how dare ye! T'll put yer in the “Sho, now, I 'wouldn't! fret! Will is er comin’ back afore sun- down, ver know, an’ ne'll untie yer. ! wish yer a good day, Mis’ Townshend.” n [ io® o “WHOA!” CRIED WILL, AND HE STOPPED AND STARED. Dely faced guickly around. “That you, Bud Harris? What yer| want? Don’t holler thetaway!” with a furtive glance at the house. She looked at the bov as calmly as if he had been a post. Ard yet he was a pic- ture. He set all hygienic theories at defi- Corn brrad and bacon, sodden bi cuit and buttermilk, stewed beans plenti- fully “seasoned’’ with bacon, made the menu by which Bnd had come to sucha glory of satiny, olive skin, clear eyes and sturdv growth. “What yer want?"’ repeated Miss Dely, imperturbably. Bud was only 8 and Dely was 2. “‘He's over yon—back o' the spring- house—waitin’ ter see yer,” said Bud, breathlessly. Looks of pleasure and fright chased éach other over Miss Dely’s face. “You go along, Bud, an’ don’t tell no- body!"” she said. Bud giggled, caught his breath and then gazed soberly after Miss Dely, who started at once for the springhouse. “Them two folks is in love,” thought Bud, reasoning correctly, as even eight years old can reason on this question. “But ef she’s in love w1’ Alec, what for sir she a-goin’ to marry Bob Wilson?” pur- sued Bud. This puzzled him and Mrs. Townshend’s big flock of guineas just then came like a ray wave up the hollow and invited a fusillade of pebbles. Miss Dely opered the door of the spring- house and went in. It was clean and sweet and cool, and pervaded by a soft gloom, oniy broken by the streaks of light that marked where the chinking haa fallen from between the logs. The stone floor was damp and mossy, Jars of milk and butter stood in a deep trough along one side, and the water went purling_between them, dripped from the trough into a channel and went gurgling off into the branch. Miss Dely bent her face to the widest crevice between the logs. “What you want, Alec?”’ It was a shaggy head that approached hers and a »air of keen blue eyes, rimmed by blonde Lrows_ already a trifle frosted, that were framed in by the edges of the iogs. “jest ter see yer, Dely,” was the reply, in softest ton *‘Jest ter sece yesonce't more. I cayn’t come ter the weddin’—yer couldn’t expect that—"" “Whny not?” interrupted Dely. “She” axes me why!” groaned Alec. “Come out hyar, Dely. It ain’t comfable to talk wi’ them fogu atween us.” “I cayn't,” answered Dely. ‘“Ma’ll see me. And I don’t reckon hit's any use talgin’.” “Hit’s the las’ time,”’ pleaded Alec. “When I give yer up ter Bob Wilson—" “Yer didn’t give me up,” interrnpted Dely, almost nngrily. ““Yer couldn’t, 'cause yer never hed me.’ “An’ why didn’t I hev ver?’’ demanded Alec, piteously. “I'lowed ’twere all set- tled, only we hed ter brek it ter yer ma gradooal—Miss Townshend’s so sensitive. Oh, Dely, come out hyar.”” “] aint er-goin’ ter. You war eleven year a breakin’ it an’ Bob Wilson only tuk two months,”’ said Miss Dely, the wild- apple tint in her cheeks growing rosier. “An’ it never war all settled nohow. Ye hed yer chance an’ ye didn’t tekit. I dunno why. Ef you reely hed cared for “Ef I hed cared fer ye!” said Alec. “Don’t yer know I cared fer ye?” He gave her a look of such intense af- fection that she grew pale and felt like Jeinting. Then, like the man he was, he lost his advantage by beginning to tramp up and down the narrow space in the rear ?f tne springhouse, groaning and gesticu- ating. “I wish 1’d a fit him. I vow I wish I'd & fit him!’ Dely watched him, at first curiomgnnd. no doubt, with a certain pleasnre. e bad bad his chance and had not improved it, acd now he was being punished for 1t, a kind of poetic justice which appeals to soulr of all grades. Bit as the scene went on it became amusing. Miss Dely began togizgle; then as the hysterical impulse grew stronger |- she laughed with all ner might. “Dely, Dely !” cried Alec, horrified. “*Are this allusion to her nuptial finery, she failed. He only looked at her in a curious way and then asked in the quietest of voices: ““Wnat did Bobdo?’ “Nothin’, only jest laffed! Oh, Alec, why won’t yer go? She’s er-comin’!” . Alec went, seeing that the danger was imminent. Mrs. Townshend called again. “I'm comin’, ma,” and Miss Dely hastened.- “What air you er-foolin’ away your time for down thar, an’ here’s Jim Wilson been ter tell yer that Bob’s took powerful bad | an’ the doctor ain’t nmo hopes on him | hardly. Er pretty piece er work thet is, an’ you'li git talkea about fine. An’ ye got yer weddin’ dress an’ all,” jeered the old woman. Muss Dely grew sick all over. then no escape from this life? “Jim wanted yer ter go over thar, but I telled him I wouldn’t hev no sich work as thet—my da’ter running after a man thet- away.” They had reached the house now, and there in the living-room was the wedding gown Dely had been so proud of. She began to wee?. “You shet up, Dely Townshend!” cried her mother. “Ef yer don’t I'll bang my head ali to pieces ergin the wall!” and she gave it a hard thump. *‘Oh, ma, don’t, don’t!” shrieked Dely. “Iwon'tery. I won’tdo nothin’.” The old woman sat down in her splint rocker. “Yer'd better not, then.” The menace in_her black eyes meant business, and Dely, choking down her sobs, went about getting dinner. Poor Bob Wilson never recovered from his sudden illness. He begged to see Miss Dely, and once in the dead of’ midnight she stole out trembling and went and stayed an hour by his sick bed. - *‘I hate ter leave ye,” said Bob, kindly. “But thar’'s Alec thinks a heap on ye. 'Twas a mighty squar’ thing his givin’ ‘ye up ter me like ne did.”” ‘‘Oh, Bob, don't talk thetaway!” cried Miss Dely. Hers was a sincere soul and here was Bob dying, but she was absolutely power- less to tell him the whole truth. “Well, well! It'sall right, I suppose,” said Bob, weakly. He was so nearly done with this life that its loves and hopes did not matter much. Dely’s wedding gown was vresently put away in the old family chest and Dely went about her duties with a sadder face. ‘A widder 'thout ever bein’ married,” sneered her mother, and the kind neigh- bors added that it ‘‘’peared like Dely Townshend was pintedly meant fer an old maid,” In the few weeks that followed Bob Wil- son’s death, Alec Penland did a_deal of thinking and day-dreaming. Pleasant thoughts and pleasant dreams they were, too, one would guess by the serene ex- pression of his strong, kind face. He worked some at ‘“fixing things” around home. Alec had lived alone, keeping house for himself ten years or more, and it is put- ting it mildly to say that the appearance of the house both inside and out indicated that such had been the case. But this did not trouble Alec. He was apt to sit after supper smoking his pipe on the front stoop without a thought of the unwashed dishes, and watch thesmoke curling up from the Widow . Townshend’s chimney. “She’s a good gal’'n’s neat’s a pin,” he mused one night. “Bob was a better man then me, some ways. He'd adone it, an’ I'll do it, an’ I won’t wait no longer, blessed ef I do.” He knocked the ashes out of his pipe, putout the cat, and went to bed and slept soundly ali night. The next day found him at Mrs. Towns- hend’s door. ;i The bees were humming in the lilacs, and the March winds were soft and warm. The house was wide open. Mrs, Towns- hena was carding cotton. She gave him but a curt weicome. “I hope you are well enough, ma’am,” said Alec, with deference. *1’m only jest tol'able,” was the cold re- 1y. P i¥here is Miss Dely?” ventured Alec presently. Was there He backed out of her presence like a courtier, carefully shut all the doors and hurried to the spring-place. Poor old woman! ~She gave one or two discordant cries, and then_astonishment got the better of anger. expedient of beating her head against the wall she had all her life ruled with an iron rod her whole family, Was it possible it was going to fail now? Alec found Miss Dely sitting on the steps at the springhouse, churning. She worea clean, dfrk-blue gown, and the cream which foamed up around the dasher was not whiter than her cape bonnet. She looked, Alec told himself, as pretty as a posey. . She smiled at him and bade him “Howdy " Alec thought of Bob Wilson. “Thar shan’t nobody say he war a better man than me!” he muttered. He went boldly up to Miss Dely and kissed her. Then he laid his shaggy head close and whispered something in her ear. ““Ob, no, no, no, Alec! Ma’d beat her head off.” “‘No, she won’t. She cayn't.” Dely looked scared. “You ain’t killed her, Alec?” “0Oh, Lordy, no! 8he’s—gone a-visitin’.” Miss Dely got up quickly, ‘‘Alec, what you been er-doin’?" r;‘;\;othin’l But I'm goin’ ter kerry yer No, you ain’t! I cayn’t go!” ““Now, Dely!” coaxingly. “Be a good gal. Come!"” “'I?\’ca_vn‘n Alec, what you done with a m “You come an’ I'll tell yer.” “Icayn’t! The butter ain’t come.” “Darn the butter! Come!” “No, no, Alec! Icayn’t!” “But I say yer got ter.” Miss Dely protested, but her resistance grew weaker. Perhaps it was the tender words he kept whispering in her ear that sapped ber strength. e half led, half carried her down the bank of the branch into a woodsy bridle path. There stood his big black mare Molly, all saddled. He helped Dely to the top of a bowlder close by, and then climbed into the saddle. “Come!” a He reached out his hand and caughg ers. “No, Alec, no!” But she put her other hand on his shoul- der and sprang up behind him. “Oh, I cayn’t go, Alec!” “Yer cayn't heip it,” he said triumph- umldv, and the mare cantered down the shaded roadway toward Asheville. Three -hours later, when the westering sun was low, they were slowly returning in the same way nloni the same road. And so returning, who knows what pleas- ant castle-building was interrupted by the sight of a wood wagon jogging along in advance of them. “There’s Will!"” exclaimed both. Abreast of the team Alec arew rein. “Whoa!" cried Will, and he stopped and stared. ¥ “Ef I'were you, Will,” said Alec gently, “I'd hurry home. Yer ma needs yer. An’, Will, you tell ’er’at Dely an’ me is mar- ne(d, 1n’ ez fur ez we're got we like it fust rate.” As he rode on he turned to look over his shoulder into her smiling, rosy face. “Don’t we, honey ?" Dely’s looks answered. She was not an emancipated woman, but she iad changed tyrants. It was the happiest hour of her life.—New York Tribune. Another Veteran Dead. Lincoln Post No. 1, G. A. R., will hold funeral services to-day over the body of C. . H. Coney, who died at Pacific Grove on the 3d inst. He enlisted early in the war,and served in the following Massachusetts regiments: Thirty- thira and Forty-first infantries and the Third Cavalry, and lost an arm at the battle of. Ope- quan, Va., September 19, 1864, but was not mustered out until July, 1865. He was for several years newspaper mail clerk in the S8an Francisco Postoffice, and months ago, in antici- pation of his decease, ‘:)vc minute directions as to his funeral. His body will be conveyed to his birthplace in Massachusetts for burial. —_——————t———— It has been decided to celebrate the semi- centennial of Wisconsin, perhaps with an industrial exhibition. Turn me | By this simple | NEW TO-DAY—DRY GOODS. THE SPRING SEASON IS CLOS That means two things to a merchant. . Firstly, the residue of the winter stock must be gotten rid of, to make room for the new goods, and, secondly, the Spring Goods must be opened, marked and gotten into stock ready for the early callers.” That’s what down the prices in our endeavors to close out the Winter Stuffs, prettiest of the pretty Spring Wash Goods to tempt you into early bu NEW DIMTES! A large collection of the new pretty effects in this lovely sheer material that will be so much in favor for waists, wrappers and full cos- tumes. All sorts of patterns on white and colored grounds. PRICES, 123 and 15¢ a Yard. OUR SHOE SALE Keeps uo with unabated interest. It don't take long for the merit of such a sale to become town gossip. Our sizes are in fairly good condition yet, but if you wear either small or Jarge ones You will be sure to get the bargain of vour Jife. It’s worth your while to come and see anyhow, Boys' B Calf School Shoes, sizes 11 {o 1, for $1 a pair; reduced from $2. Sizes 2 to 5 for $125 a pair; re- duced from $2 50. Children’s Dancing Pumps, sizes 11 to 1, for §1 a pair; reduced from $2. Children’s Felt Slippers, sizes 8 to 13, for 50c a pair; reduced from $1 50. Misses’ Tan Shoes, sizes 11 to 1, for $1 a pair; reducec from $2. Ladies’ Plush Slippers, handsomely embroidered, sizes 2 to 4 only, 50c a pair; reduced from $1 50. Ladies’ Satin € ip}{)ers, all the leading colors, y best qnaiity, with French heels, for $1 95 a pair; re- duced from $1; sizes 134 to 4 only, P Ladies’ Kid Oxford Ties, sizes 1 to 3, for §1 a pair; reduced from $3. Ladies’ Tan and Black Kid Nuilifiers, in sizes 2 to 6, for §2 50 a pair; re- duced from $5. Ladies’ Best French Kid Hand-sewn Shoes, in low shapes and boots, all kinds and styles, that were $5 a pair, to beclosed outat $2 50 a pair. and E AT HAND! we are doing--carving showing some of the yving. NEW BATISTES! NEW PIQURS i DUCKS. Over 100 pieces of these lovely high-class Wash Ma- terials in the daintiest of col- orings and designs. All the favorite shades, like pink, blue, corn, heliotrope, as well as the new Grass Linen color. Dainty stripes and figured patterns. PRICES, 156 and 20¢ a Yard. OUR CLOAK and SUIT SALE Has been the means of puiting more 8tylish Jackets and Capes on the shoulders of San Francisco ladies than any rimilar sale that ever took place. People know a good thing when they see it, and Cloaks and Capes, even though they are not the very latest styles, are wonderful bargains at such prices. A largelot of Ladies’ Fancy Jackets and Capes, including almost every desirable color and size, marked down to $1 and $1 95 apiece. These comprise many garments ti:at sola up to $10 and $15 apiece. An elegant variety of Prince Albert and 3{-length Jackets, 1n_blacks, blues and tans, marked down to $395 and $595 apiece. These are lovely Kersevs and Meltons that sold as high as $25 and $30. An assorted lot of Fur-trimmed Seal- ette Jackets, 25 inches long, ‘such trimmings as astrachan fur, bear fur and electric seal among them, sizes 32 to 38, marked down to $5 apiece for choice. Were as highas Misses’ Long Cloaks, made of light- colored, rough-surface plaid Scotch cheviots, with full sleeves and shoulder capes. at $3 95 apiece. Reduced from $12 50 and $15. Ladies’ Suits in tan, navy and brown all-wool serge, pleated waists or box jackets, trimmed with bzaid und silk. Were sold at §5 to $7 50 apiece, to be closed out at $150 each. Ladies’ Suits, made of all-wool che- viotsand fancy checked and striped materials, light, medium and dark colors, all fully lined. These. suits were sold at $10 to $15 apiece, ana will be closed out at $2 50 each. Ladies’ Separate Dress Skirts, made of all-wool clotbs, in shades of tan, brown and navy-tlue, to be closed out at §1 apiece. T At least 500 pieces of them. Every kind of a pattern in stripes, figures and dots, and every conceivable color, with plenty of the new linen shade and the new Granite Dresden effects. Ducks will be much worn and are prettier than ever. PRICE, Only 12} a Yard. OUR DRESN GOODS SALE Is more attractive this week on ac- count of our having added to the splendid 1ines already on sale about 50 pieces of New Goods just received from New York. They are “between sea- son’’ styles, bought way under price, and to be sold the same way, to keep things a-moving. Our entire stock of Two-tone Mixtures and Granite Suitings mm_a large variety of colorings. Reduced to 25¢ a yard. A large collection of goods worth from 60c to $1 a yard, including a splen- did assortment of Silk-striped Novelties, Scotch Cheviots and other fashionable weaves, to be closed out at 37%4c a yard. Over fifty different pieces of English, Redfern and Tailor Sunitings and Fancy Novelty Dress Materials that were §1 and $125 a yard, to be closed out at 50¢ a yard. ‘WE HAVE JUST OPENED 100 PCS. NEW SILK STRIPED CHAL- LIES, IN LIGHT AND DARK COLORS. PRICE, 25¢c A YARD. SILK BARGAINS. At 2%c. At 5lc. At 58e. At $1.0 The remainder of our winter stock of Colored Satins that ‘were 50c and 75c a yard. A line of regular $1 Black Brocaded Duehesse, war- ranted all silk. All that is left of our All- Silk French Black Dress Crepe that sold at $1 50 yard. Exquisite Two-tone Even- « ing Silks in serpentine striped designs, reduced from $2. NEW GINGHANS! Every imaginable style and kind. All the favorite fancy and Scotch plaids, plain cloths and crepon effects, zephyr styles and silk mixed, from the daintiest little baby checks to the rich novelty combination plaids. PRICES, 10¢ to 35¢ a Yard. OUR UNDERWEAR SALE Has been a good thing for us, and it is surely a good onhe for you. We are clearing up all our ‘broken lines and odd lots of Fall Weights, and the prices named give you an’ opportunity to buy two and three suits for the regular price of one. We have all kinds, styles and sizes still on hand. . Ladies’ ref)ulur dollar quality Scarlet ‘Wool Drawers, because the vests are all sold, to be given away at Ladies’ Swiss-ribbed Wool Vests, both high neck long sleeves and ‘hizh neck low sleeves, that were $2 50 each, to be closed out at $1. Ladies’ Jersei-ribbed Wool Union Suits, in white or black, that were $3 50, to be closed out at $1 98 each, Ladies’ Ypsilanti Union Suits, that were $5, §6 and $7 50 apiece, to be closed out at $2 98 each. Misses’ Union Sdits, in_white or natural gray colors, slightly im- perfect in the weave, otherwise would be $2 apiece, to be sold out at 65c eacli. ¥ Boys’ Scarlet Wool Shirts and Draw- ers that were 87c each, to be closed out at 25¢, in siz s upto 24, and at 50c each for the larger sizes. Extra Special! Another lot of Ladies’ Vests, including black and a few colors, that were sold from 25¢ to 75¢ apiece, to be closed out at 10c apiece. cunbiunrcer OPRIETORS F DHe Muauze~ C. DANIELS & CO. INCIGNANT They Claim That They Have Been Unjustly Criticized in Print. A NEW ACCUSER FOR HEALY. Captain Healy’s Friends Seem to Be Confident That He Will Come Out Unscathed. “Captain Healy seems to have the cinch on this whole outfit,”’ remarked one of the favored few admitted in room 83 of the United States Appraisers’ building during the sessions of the court of inquiry at present investigating the charges against the veteran navigator. “When the investigation opened,” con- tinued the officer, “‘all persons connected with the case were strictly charged not to reveal a word of what took place during the sessions of the court. By consent of counsel on both sides it was agreed that absolutely nothing—not even the names of the witnesses—should be given out for publication. This agreement wasin the nature of a formal compact, and all con- cerned were reminded that a point of honor was involved in the matter of strict compliance with its terms. “Our side, at least. has kept its plighted word. We have not revealed any of the proceedings of the investigation; we have refused to be interviewed; we have refused to give even our names for publication. But every morning what do we see? Long articles in some of the papers preceded by headlines and abounding in pointed shafts of ridicule directed at the prosecution. We find ourselves, the ydunger officers of the fleet, held up to the execration of the public as a crowd of ignorant, immora!, and utterly incompetent” boys, engaged in afoul and traitorous conspiracy against our lawful superior. “But that is not all. The reports of the investigation are very cdmvlete; that is, nothing of importance is omitted; but everything is represented in a manner fayorable to the captain. The old msn was well hauled over the coals the other day for talking to reporters, and I guess he deserved it. Lieutenant Reynolds was obliged to remind him that his honor as an officer and a genuemtn demanded that he remain silent and divulge nothing of what might take place during the inquiry. ‘‘As for poor Daniels and the rest of us, they call us the ‘triumvirate,’ and strongly hint that we are conspiring toruin the captain, that we have no status in the service and are nothing but graduated cabin-boys. We are calied a gang of in- g;n\eu and scored as the very offscouring of creation. But when it comes to con- spiracies I know of a bigger combine than any three young lieutenants could ]E“ up, and that is the caval of Captain Healy’s compatriots. They are bound to see the captain cleared of the charges against him by fair means or by foul. *‘Our side has kept its word long enough, and I for one am going to ask that we be released from further obligations of se- crecy. The Healy side of the case has been before the public long enough, and it is time for us to have a show. hen Dr. Sharp comes his testimony will knock the Healy side into a cocked hat. He knows ‘things that the other witnesses knew but were afraid to tell. He is independent of Captain Healy, and will tell the truth. But I will be glad when the affair is over, -for I am heartily sick of being suigmatized as a disgrace to the service.” The Healy people seem to regard the victory as theirs. The old captamn says nothing, since he rather dislikes being reprimanded for speaking of the inquiry; but as each charge against him falls flat he smiles a quiet iittle smile all to himself and glances archly over at the corner where Messrs. Daniels & Co. sit nursing their impotent wrath. “The case against the captain has fallen throngh,” said a warm personal friend of Healy’s, whose rank entitles him to be present at the sessions of the court. “The prosecution, in fact, has no case whatever, and to-day they begged the captain’s side to allow them a little time in order to fetch Dr. Sharp from the East. They ex- pect great things from Sharp, but they are going to be badly fooled. All that Dr. Sharp can do will be to show his deadly ersonal enmity toward the captain. He as, in fact, sworn repeatedly that he would ‘do_Healy up’ whenever he should get a whack at him.” “But what a_sorry whack he is going to get!” pursued the captain’s admirer. ‘‘Poor Captain Healy may be a first-class navigator and an efficient officer, but he is like a child when it comes to defending himself in court. When Daniels, Dorry and Emery were doing their worst to prove that their commander never drew a sober breath from the 10th to the 25th of August, 1895, there were in the City sev- erAP captains and officers of whalers who could testify directly to the contrary. These were Captain Louis Wiliiams of the Hidalgo, Captzin A. H. McGregor, Cap- tain Bonnifield of the Lakme, First Officer Philip Montgomery of the Narwhal, and several others, be- sides Richard Nelson, assistant keeper of the lighthouse and relief station at Point Barrow, who was sent by Captain Aitken, his superior officer, to warn Captain Healy against attempting to enter the polar sea, as the danger from iee would be very great and the trip to Point Barrow unnecessary, seeing that the station was amply sup- plied. “Now, these whalers were anchored off- ley Cape during the month of August, 1895, waiting for the ice to break in order to effect an entrance into the Arctic Ocean. The Bear and several other vessels were there during the same period. There was nothing to do but to wait. Under such circumstances the officers made the best of the leisure time at their disposal, dining with each other and visiting continually. Thus it happened that the officers whom I mentioned, and about twice as many more, saw Captain Hedly every day. The captain knew these men were in town and was in friendly relations with them, and never. thought of asking them to testify. His attorneys learned accidentally of their presence in the City and immediately bad them cited to appear. The testimony of these officers utterly broke down the accusations of the prosecution. “Anyhow,” concluded the captain’s right bower, “you may be sure the old man wiil come out on to% His accusers are only a trio of young fellows without ex- tended service in porthern waters. Their intended victim is ‘a man who has made his mark in the history of Arctic explora- tion. [t would hold up the American Nation to universal and deserved ridicule if one of its most faithful and -efficient servants were allowed to suffer indignity at the hands of these three youths, who came upon the earth long after Captain Healy had gained his laurels in his coun- try’s service.’’ ‘At the urgent request of the prosecution further proceedings in the investigation have been postponed until the 20th inst., when it is expected Dr. Sharp will be here to testify against Captain Healy. Henry Labouchere says the government of the *‘piratical South Africa Company,” in that part of South Africa covered by ita concession from England, “is the basest and yilest of gvernments that the human ming'un well conceive.” ADMIRED BY MAXIMILIAN. Romantic Story of a Magnificent Gold Bronze Timepiece. - There'has lately been placed in the Mark Hopkins Institute of Art a clock with a 100st interesting history. It is also a work of art of the highest order, being possibly the finest piece of real gold-bronze in the TUnited States. The name of the sculptor who designed it has been obliterated for unknown reasons, but it is known that the clock was | made for the first international exposition held in Paris in 1855. it created consider- able stir in the art world at the time and was awarded the highest prize and a medal for that classof work. The work was so far in advance of anything of the left for his home. How much he received for the clock is not known. My. Pioche put the clock in the parlors of his residence on Stockton street, and it remainea there until after he committed suici “e in 1876, when it was turned over to M. Thellar, to whom it had been left in the will. Mr. Thellar found it an elephant on his hands, and he had to store it away. For nearly twenty years it was practicaily buried, until Mr. Thellar, thinking that its beauties might as well be enjoyed by iomebody, sent it over to the Art Instuie ute. To minutely describe the clock would be an almost impossible task. It is really a clock and candelabra, and in their present position show to the best advan- tage against the mantel of dark ebony. The center piece, or clock proper, is about three feet long and two feet high, and has a figure on eitherside, one with a hunter's THE CLOCK THAT WAS CO 'VETED BY MAXIMILIAN. kind that had been done up to that time that it was sought by the agents of many of the roval houses of Europe. The price was placed at 50,000 francs, but no buyers came forward and it remained in "the hands of the dealers. One of the greatest admirers of tHe clock was the then Archduke Maxmilian, brother of the Emperor of Austria, but as be had no money was unable to make even an offer. But every time he visited Paris he spent hours in admiration of it. It was still in Paris when he sailed for Mexico to become Emperor in 1864. As Emperor of ‘Mexico, Maxmilian was able to bestow many Iavors, and was showered with presents from those who wanted a chance to become rich in the New World. Among those was a French nobleman whose finances had reached a low state, and wlo desired a good position from Maxmilian. He consulted Napoleon 11, who, knowing the Mexican Emperor’s admiration for the clock, suggested that if he took it to him as a present he could have anything he asked for. The nobleman went to all his friends and relatives and raised 40,000 francs which he induced the dealer to take for the clock. But this left him almost without funds, so that he was compelled to start to Mexico in a sailing vessel that consumed many months on the voyare. The day he arrived in the City of Mexico he heard that Maxmilian had been shot in Queretaro. The event caused bitter enmity against all sympathizers of royalty, so the noble- man was compeiled to get out of the conn- try with bis clock as quickly as possible. He reached Acanulco after a most exciting journey over the mountains, and paid every sou he had to the captain of a small vessel for passage to San Francisco. Arriving here ‘“‘broke” he sought to sell the clock, and after telling his story found a purchaser in F. L. A. Pioche, a promi- nent French banker here at the time, and horn and the other with cymbals. On top of the dial are other instruments entan- led amid olive leaves. Each of the can- elabra is about four feet high and repre- sents a bunch of St. Joseph lillies, with a figure seated at the base. These figures are also representative of music. The workmanship on the whole group is of the highest order, and was surely done by some master. The style of the work indicates a careful training in the schools of Italy.- Although over forty years old, the bronze is as bright and briliiant as though just from the founder’s hands, It really looks like polished gola. TO BE CONSISTENT. Why s Really Legal and Satisfactory ‘Will was Broken. Copies of the depositions in the matter of the estate of James A. Bradley are being sent on to Minneapolis, where another phase of the contest over his estate is going on. Bradley left a will, devising his property to beirs-at-law, just as if he had died in- testate. He made no bequests, but an- nounced that his heirs should each have his or her legal share, and yet the will was contested. The reason ior this was that at the time he drew the will, Bradiey made deeds for $100,000 worth of property in Minneapolis, transferring the same to various charities in North Carolina. The heirs want these deeds set aside, on the ground that the old man was not of sound mind when be made there. The will was made at the same time, and so to give color to the suit to set aside the deeds, and to be consistent, the will was contested. The contest of the will came before Judge Sanderson some weeks ago, and the will was broken. Now the suit to set aside the deeds will 2o on in the case.