EDISON'S LATEST IDEAU.
Experiments for Telegraphing Between
Ships at Sea.
It was rather a weird experience,
meeting him there in the great gloomy
building, where there are but two
men besides himself, at night. He
was chiefly engaged with his new idea
of telegraphing from railroad trains
in motion. This is not to be done by
a cable laid along the track, on the
Phelps plan, but by throwing the elec
tric current, by induction, to one of
the wires alongside the railroad. His
experiments have already shown that
the sparks can be thrown 180 feet.
The regular Morse instrument, with
certain appliances will be used. The
battery is to be grounded in the wheels
of the car, and on the top of the car
there will be condensers of tin foil
spread upon long strips of wood. Ar
rangements are also progressing for
an experiment in telegraphing by the
same method fruni one ship to another
at sea.
'But is that possible," 1 asked.
"How far do you think yon can throw
the current over the water?"
"I am afraid to say how far," was
the answer. "From the data already
obtained, the theoretical conclusion
is that we can throw it twenty-four
miles. Possibly we can throw it more
than that."
Then Edison rapidly sketched on
paper a map of the two continents
and the Atlantic, and illustrated his
pian of telegraphing from ship to
ship so as to establish certain commu
nication between the shore and any
part of the frequented seas. Not eon
tent with this projected miracle, which
seems to be near its fulfillment, he is
also busy upon improvements in snb
marine telegraphy. The method now
generally in vogue of reckoning words
through cable by the flicker of a . flame
thrown upon a mirror is amazingly
insufficient, as 13 shown on a diagram
which Edison displayed. The num
ber of dots indicating letters often has
to be judged by operators from the
length of time that the llame hesitates.
.Even the siphon reeiver invented by
Sir William Thompson and used by
one or two of the new cables, is not
quite satisfactory, although it marks
the dots pretty nearly. Edison is try
ing to devise some means of attaining
a higher or better regulated rate of
speed so that the record may be made
clearer. But "it's a tough job," he
says.
Perhaps the most interesting thing
he had to say was respecting his ex
ploration for a "new force. At pres
ent he calls it simply x y z. He does
not pretend to know what it is. But
he says that there are niacy phenom
ena which are not explained by any
rforce yet recognized, and it is these
which "he is going to investigate.
Vibrations of matter at .the rate of
30,000 a second produee the highest
- -sound we can hear. Between these
and the vibrations which, at the rate
of millions per second, cause the sen
sation of heat, there is a large gap;
and between these and the vibrations
that.give sensations of eolor there is
another gap. These gaps, Edison be
lieves, are tilled by vibrations as yet
unmeasured, whicii constitute the new,
or unnamed, force he is in search of.
He brought out from a drawer sundry
loose sheets on which he had sketched
a number of machines he had project
ed, which respond to some influence
still undefined. "I jot these down as
they occur to me," he said, "and
when! get-enough of them together 1
shall have the machines made and
try togeneralize my observations."
Think .of fit! A man in this skepti
cal eeutury who dare3 believe in a dis
covery beyond all discoveries. Here
is a student. of nature who is not afraid
to have the spirit of a Galileo or a Kep
ler or an Isaac Newton. Perlaaps we
shall learn irom him that in returning
to faith. and insight, aided by bold and
patieut experiment, we may go for
ward by ituing backward. "Wliait do
vou think as to the nature or matter?"
J asked, jmsexupulously. The aiuswer
was prompt: "1 do not believe that
matter is iuart. acted upon by aa out
side force. To me it seems that eTiery
atom is possessed of a certain amount
of primitive intelligence. Look at
the thousand ways in which atoms of
hydrogen couab.ne with those of other
elements, forming the most diverse
substances. Do you mean to say th&
they do this without intelligence?
When they get together in certain
forms they make animals of the lower
orders. Finally, they combine in man,
who represents the total intelligence
of all the atoms.''
"fyit where does this iatelligence
i come from onginxlly?"
"From some power greater than
ourselves."
"Ho you then fcelieve in intelli
gent Creator, a personal Gad?" was
the next question.
"Certainly," said Mr. Edison. "The
existence of such a God, in my mind,
an almost be proved from cfcemis
rtry." Lucretius thought tfeat all atoms
sstere moved by feelings of love or
' hate what we call attraction or re
pulsion. Edison's idea is far mre
subtle, since he allows the atoms only
a germ of intelligence. It also seems
to be quite in keeping with the doe
trine of evolution, while it contains
not his g that is not in harmony with
the idealism of the Platonists. And so
we.diseover down on Aveeue B., in
the prasaic city of New York, a
philosopher who" believes in a personal
God, and is at the same time the fore
most exponent of applied science.
Curious that he should be at work
here, night after night, in the midst of
a million of people, only a few hun
dred of whom know how he is employ
ed during the nocturnal hours! As a
usual thing he works until 5 or 6
o'clock in the morning, his supper
basket remaining untouched beside
him; and sometimes it is 9 o'clock of
the next day before he leaves the
bench of the laboratory. "I can't
think out anything." he says, "except
when I'm experimenting. 1 have a
library of C.000 scientific works, but
somehow I can't find what I want in
books. How do I make calculations?
Well. I don't know exactly. I can't
do it on paper. I have to be moving
around,"
So there he goes, moving around,
thinking and working with bis hands,
in the big somber building, while the
city is asleep. He is the controling
power of several large factories, a
millionaire, a man of business, a mar
velous inventor; yet he is as simple
and happy as a child, when wrapped
in an old seersucker dressing gown, he
can manipulate at will and without in
terruption the mysterious forces and
properties of nature. In meeting him
1 thought of him more as a poet or a
musician than as a machinist and
electrician. Like the Brahmin I saw
last week, he deals with occult pow
ers, in quite a different way, but per
haps to the same end, of perfecting
man's control over the elements that
shape life. It was significant that we
climbed a dark stairway to reach his
topmost place of light and intelligence.
Americans are practical and skeptical.
It ought to amuse them greatly to
learn that the champion of their In
ventive genius is largely a believer in
things unseen aud unknown. New
York Cor, llochester Union and Adver
tiser. Phil Daley's Chapel.
Phil. Haley, whose Pennsylvania
club is said to be the most gorgeous
gaming table in America, writes a
Long Branch correspondent to Tlte
New York Sun, has moved his family
into the villa which he has added to
his belongings. The house is much
bigger than the average of the sea
side dwellings, and its architecture is
ornate in the extreme. Eccentric ga
bles, irrelevant pieces of roof, and
other devices break the lines in all
parts, and at one corner rises a round
turret somewhat like the steeple of a
church. A solid wall of brick with an
ornamental fence and gate surround
the plot. The exterior surface of the
house is polished and stained hard
wood, in a semblance of tiles. At
each side of the fiont door is a panel.
One is lettered Tootsey" and the
other "Maggie" the names of Da
ley's two children. The interior is
decorated in a costly and showy style.
Handsome wood, exquisite fresco and
elaborate wallpaper make the rooms
resplendent.
The apartment which is more curi
ous to Long Branchers than was the
blue chamber to Blue Beard's wives is
a chapel; but no magic key ha3 locked
its doors against intruders, and, until
the arrival of the dwellers, visitors
have been numerous. The chapel is
twelve feet square. The floor is pol
ished wood, with an Oriental rug on
it. The walls are frescoud in imita
tion of dark drapery. The ceiling is a
painted sky, and at the center is a
white dove on the wing. The one
window is stained glass, cathedral
iashion. The alter is about six feet
long and eight high. It is made of
carved and finely-decorated wood, the
prevailing colors being maroon and
gilt. Two beads of angels are em
bellishing features. The draperies
are specimens.of fine embroidery. A
solid gold cross, said to have cost
Si,000, is kept in a safe at night, but
by day it is to stand on the altar. The
receptacle for the host is provided as
in a regular church altar.
Those who know Daley say that he
built the chapel fn deferenee to the
wishes of his wife, who is a pious
woman. He means to engage Rev.
Father McCoy, pastor of the Star of
the Sea church, directly aeross the
street, to celebrate a mass in the ora
tory every morning throughout the
season, and the clergyman is willing
todoso if his bishop gives permission.
Two Sorts of Courage.
Commodore Garrison was ooee eap
tain of a steamboat on the Mississippi,
aad while selling tickets one day hap
pened to rouse the ire of a passionate
old man, who drew his pistoL, and,
presenting it at the narrow window,
full m.the captaia's lace, fired.
The .cap snapped- He tried a sec
ond time, and again failed. Garrison's
own pistol lay within reach, but in
stead of taking it up he quietly opened
a drawer, took out a box of percussion
caps, and, handing it to his would-be
murderer, said:
"Take a new cap; yours don't work
well."
The furious man stared at him a
moment, then burst into a laugh, and
held out his hand.
Another kind of courage is exem
plified in a story told by a young New
York inventor, who, about twenty
years ago. spent every dollar he was
worth in ac experiment which, if suc
cessful, would introduce kis invention
to public notice aud insure his fortune
and what he valued more his useful
ness. It failed. The next morning the
aily papers heaped unsparing ridi
cule on him. Hope for the future
seemed vain. He looked around the
shabby room, where his wife,, a deli
cate little woman, was preparing
breakfast. He was without a penny.
He seemed like a fool in his owe eyes;
all these years of hard work were
"wasted. If he were out of the way,
she ould return to her friends. Ho
went into his chamber, sat down and
hurried his face ic his hands, with . a
desperate resolve to end it all, Then,
with a liery heat flashing through his
body, he stood erect.
"It shell succeed," he said, shutting
bis teeth. His wife was crying over
the paper when he what bac:. "They
are very cruel," she said.
"They don't understand. I'll make
them understand," he replied, cheer
fully. 'It was a fight for six years," he
said afterward. "Poverty and sick
ness and contempt followed me. I
had nothing left but the dogged deter
mination that it should sueeeed." It
did succeed. The invention was a
great and useful one. The inventor
is now a prosperous and happy man.
"Be sure you're right," he says to
younger men, "then never give up."
Youth, Companion.
It took the boa-constrietor In the New York
"Zoo" thirty-ooe hours to shed his skin. Na
ture ought to have given him a linen duster
instead.
A South Carolina murderer wants the
sheriff to use a wire rope at his execution, be
lieving the time has come for hemp to take a
back seat
A New Jersey divorce was brought about by
a dispute over .a single chestnut a yerjr old
one.
A Great Iron Family.
I On the 26th of May, writes a Lan
3aster, Pa., correspondent to The PhiU
idelnhia Times, Clement Brooke Grubb
I repurchased the old Mount Hope fur
nace property in this county for the
i sum of $300,000 cash. This is one of
the finest old iron properties in this
jountrv, embracing 2,500 acres of
i land, with a fine farm and the nian
' sion. although built by Henry Bates
jorubb nearly one hundred years ago,
i s one of the'finest in the state, and is
really a modern style, having an im
; weiise hall aud ceilings fifteen feet
; aigh throughout. It issituated on an
; ?minence which affords a front view of
, ilmost unprecedented beauty and
jrandeur extending to and over the
; sity of Lancaster, which city is fifteen
aiiles distant, and it is flanked on the
jast by a beautiful and extensive ter
raced "lawn and garden, making it one
; if the most lovely summer residences
j possible to conceive. The connection
I if this estate with the great Cornwall
' are mines, in which it has a perpetual
; right for a full supply of ore. is what
; ives it its great commercial value, and
;he desire to again possess the old
Homestead where he was born, and to
j regain that ore right which was con
veyed by him to his brother, A. Bates
Srubb, more than thirty years ago, in
! lueed Mr. Grubb to make the pur-
2hase.
i Mr. Grubb is now, by inheritance,
J ;he patriarchal iron master of the
United States, being the oldest member
; sf the oldest iron family in this conn
: try. His great-great-grandfather, Peter
j Grrubb, came from Wales, near Corn
j wall, to this country in 1679, and made
I large purchases of land in what arc
; now Lebanon and Lancaster counties
; from the Indians, and subsequently
had the titles confirmed by William
t'enn, and upon one of these tracts he
! found an immense deposit of iron ore,
! which he named Cornwall, and which
j mine is still the wonder and admira-
tion of all who visit it. Mr. Isaac
. Lowthian Bell, M. P., and the greatest
j ironmaster in England, and whose
; opinion is considered authority
i throughout the world, told me when
i he was in this country in 187G that he
had visited most of the great iron
1 mines in the world, including those of
Spain, Algeria, the continent of Eu-
rope, England, Scotland, and Wales,
i and many in this country, including
; those of Alabama and the iron moun
j tain of Missouri, and then said: "But
! Cornwall bears the palm as the great
! est iron mountain in the world." From
i geological investigation, aided by
I tests made with the diamond drill, it
i has been pretty well demonstrated
j that Cornwall' "can produce 500,000
; tons of ore per year for three hundred
years to come. The original Cornwall
! furnace was built by Cirtus Grubb in
I 1725, who operated it for many years.
I Peter Grubb, the seoond, built Mount
j Hope furnace in 178-1. The Cornwall
I ore mines are now owned and worked
: by the families of the Grubbs and Cole
! mans under the head of the "Cornwall
: Ore Bank company."
Mr. Spurgeon's Modesty.
An English lady had occasion some
j time since to travel without escort
j from Suffolk to Loudon, and she was
; forced ta take a train on which there
were no carriages reserved for ladies.
"ihere is a compartment occupied
; only by the Kev. Mr. Spurgeon, the
guard saiu in answer to ner expression
of disappointment, "perhaps you do
not object to riding with him."
The lady aoquieseed, and according
ly was so "placed. An inquiry on the
part of the reverend gentleman in
relation to the window opened the
conversation, and presently the two
travelers were discoursing amicably
upon general topics. At length they
reached Mr. Spurgeon1 s native village,
j where the train paused a few mo
j ments.
"I presume. Madam," the gentl
; man observed with genuiae enthus
iasm, "that you have heard of Spur
geon. the great preacher. This vil
lage has the honor of being his birth-
place."
j He went on from this text, drawn
! out somewhat, it is true, by the lady,
and praised himself most unsparingly,
declaring Spurgeon to be the greatest
I divine in all England. When London
was reached he politely assisted the
lady into a cab, aud was biddicg her
good-bye, when she sail:
"I thank you very much for your
kindrwss, -Mr. Spurgeon."
Surprise, chagrin and anger all
painted themselves upon the face of
1 the other, but he apparently struggled
to maintain his countenance and his
temper. Striking himself melodrauia-
tically upon the chest, he exclaimed:
j "Down, temper! Dowu. temper,
down!"
And, turning upon his heel, he let!
her abruptly. Ex.
j A Salt Lake Saint's Architectural
reak.
On the corner of Third South and
! Eighth East streets. Salt Lake City, a
' man has built a fantastic crib, gaudy
i with whitewash and paint and lace and
curtains and rude images a some
thing between a Chinese temple and a
brigand's tent and his neighbors say
I he has erected it in anticipation of
I the second coining of the Savior; that
' he expects the Master now at any
i time, and has prepared this place for
His reception. When people speak of
I him they tap their foreheads, as though
i in their judgment there were rats in
! his intellectual garret. Probably
there are; but it is a clear case that he
I has but accepted as literally true what
has been preached around him for
these forty years. We- do not know
whether or not he is a Mormon, but he
has in his work caused real Mormon
j ism to materialize, so that it can be
seen by the naked eye on his premises
precisely as it has "been preached by
i the Mormon chiefs through all the
I weary, pitiable years. He has evi
; dently stinted himself and those de
j pendent upon him to prepare this fan
tastic house, just as the Mormon chiefs
have robbed their people and starved
i their minds by not supplying them
i with decent schools, in order to build
1 gaudy temples, within which npt one
j in ten of their people can ever rest
j their tired feet. Sail Lake Tribune.
LIFE'S DAT.
Into the field of life we pass
At early morn. The jeweled grass
With sunbeams kissed spreads at our feet;
And youth, like morn, all pure and sweet
And bright is filled with rosy dreams;
While in the purple heavens gleams
The star of fortune and of fame,
And in itsl-ght we read a name
O dream, most sweet, it is our own :
More glorious still, it shines alone I
The sun speeds on ; the star no more
Is seen. Illus've dreams are o'er.
Fortune and fame so coy and fleet
But mock our weary, wa r-worn feet
Ambi'.ion's fairest prize lias flown;
A name appears, but not our own.
What have we then for all our pains?
For all our prayers Are there no grains
Of good to show Has all been lost
In that our cherished pians are crossed,
And dissipated each fond dream
As snow flakes melt within the stream?
Ah, no! See how our souls are filled
With wealth of harvests we have tilled;
With meekness, patience, love and truth;
Blest springs of everlasting youth;
Bright jewels of the crown withiu;
Ripe fruit of life's sharp discipline;
Of which there dawns the twilight gray
Of day that dies not with the dav.
Geor:je W. Crofts, in Tile Current.
THE YOUNG TEACHES.
Scott got scot free into Canada with $160,000.
He is one of the "iScotts wba hae" the boodlo
It was the evening of the commence
ment exercises at Mrs. Weston's large
boarding school.
All was noise and excitement. The
pupils were flying about in a flutter of
anxiety, and in various stages of in
completed toilette.
"What have you done with my
flowers, Nell? There, how provoking!
You have tipped over my powder.
Y'our elbows are always in the wrong
place!" quoth Miss Lydia Holcamp,
one of the older girls, her temper get
ting the better of her. "Dear me!
There, I'm ready at last. I wonder
where that Miss Barker is. I want
her to give me another urillinir in that
recitation. I dressed early on pur
pose, and now I suppose she will be
away prinking her doliytied self!"
"Dear me, Lydia. you have had
more instructions on your recitation
than any of the rest have had on
theirs. 1 should think it would be
better to study by yourself, and let
Miss Barker have a little rest. The
poor thing is overworked."
"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Miss Hol
camp with a sneer; "she likes to show
off, that is all. If she didn't like it she
wouldn't be a teacher of elocution."
Thus speaking, Lydia Holcamp de
parted to seek her instructress in elo
cution an art upon which the young
lady prided herself.
Lydia was especially anxious to dis
tinguish herself to-night, for the rea
son that among those present she ex
pected there would be a certain Mr.
Harry Quintard, a member of a
wealthy family whom she had visited
during her vacation.
Her own father was a rich man, and
the families had always been on terms
of friendship.
Harry and his sister she knew would
come, and failure was not to be thought
of. But Miss Barker's services were
not to be secured; she was engaged
with some of the younger pupils.
"You cun not see Miss Barker," re
marked the preceptress. "You will
have no difficulty with your piece,
Miss Holcamp, unless you fail to re
member certain passages. If I recol
lect correctly Miss Uarker advised you
to make sure of those .points. Have
you done so?"
"Oh! 1 remember it perfectly!" an
swered Miss Holcamp with confidence.
"But I wished Miss Barker to show
me how to fall into that dramatie atti
tude which 1 like so mueh."
"Think of what you are saying Miss
Holcamp, aud that will aid you to the
expression. Miss Barker can not give
all her time to one."
Lydia went pouting away.
The evening anvanoed, the guests
assembled, and at last Lydia's turn to
recite arrived.
She was a girl of most remarkable
assurance, aud she went fearlessly on
oiutill suddenly her memory failed her.
It was what the teachers had fear
ed. Miss Holcamp had some ability,
they said, but no application. She
was no student.
She glanced helplessld toward Miss
Barker, who promptep her. Again
she went on. Again she stopped for
want of words.
At last, after several promptings,
she came to the end of her selection.
Miss Barker had retreated behind
the draperies, sore and disappointed
that one of her most promising pupils
had thus failed.
"It was all your fault," burst forth
Lydia, "you hateful, disagreeable
thing! I believe you were jealous, and
meant I should fail, when you went
and hid yourself away with those
children to-night. You knew I needed
another lesson."
The fair little teacher turned pale
Rnd trembled. She was not accus
tomed to such language. Most of her
pupils were kind ami obedient.
fehe was slim, and young, and pret
ty, this teacher and "a great student
and worker. All the teachers respect
ed and liked her.
"You have made me fail, and I hope
I may never see your face again!"
concluded Lydia as she flounced
away.
Just outside of the draperies stood
a handsome young man. He heard
the abuse lavished upon the young
teacher, and his lip curled.
'Who is the tall fair girl in grey!"
he had inquired during the evening.
"Miss Barker the teacher of elocu
tion," had been the reply.
He started.
"Is it possible?" said he. "She ap
pears as young as the pupils."
Not one word came from Miss
Baker's lips now, but he heard teach
ers and scholors exclaiming that it was
i shame after the attention she had
lavished upon Miss Holcamp during
the past term.
Mr. Harry Quintard (for he it was
who had overheard Miss Holcamp)
made his way to the preceptress when
the exercises were over, and asked her
for an introduction to Miss Barker.
"Ab, you mustn't be making love
to my pet teacher, Mr. Quintard."said
the lady, with an arch glance and an
idmonitory tap of her fan.
Nevertheless, Mr. Harry Quintard
tvas presently seated by the side of
"pretty Miss" Barker," as nearly all
jailed her in the school.
She looked a little- pale and wearied,
and Harry noticed that her hands
trembled,
"No wonder," he thought.
"It must be very exhausting work,
teaching all those great girls," he
said. "I should dearly like to hear
you recite something yourself."
jThe eyes which looked into "pretty
SlTs3 Barker's," were frank and ad
miring. At this moment, his sister came up
to them. She looked cold, and drew
her brother aside. She had left Lydia,
who had recently joined her, and
wanted her brother to come to them. .
"Lyd," said she, "is only a teacher
in the school, Hal. Come with us."
"You will have to excuse me for
the present," said Hal, who saw that
others were making their waj to Miss
Barker's seat, "unless you and Lydia
will join us, for I like Miss Barker
very much. She is a perfect lady."
And Hal kept his word. He kept
by the little teacher's side for the rest
of the evening, much to Lydia's cha
grin. "Tell me, where will you spend
jour vacation?" he asked at parting.
She colored as she replied:
"I'm going to a very lonely place in
the country, and shall spend the time
in working very hard."
"But why not rest?" he added; "you
need rest, surely. "Tell me then,"
he added, "where you will go, that I
may hope to see you again?"
She shook her head.
"It is best not," she said.
"What!" he exclaimed; "have I
then treated you so badly that you
will never see me again,"
Miss Barker's eyes fell, and again
the warm color came over cheek and
forehead.
"There is a lady who was once very
kind to me," she said, who lives very
humbly among the mountains of Cum
berland, and I am going to spend my
summer with her. In the autumn I
hope to begin a new phase of my arc.
You see I am poor, Mr. Quintard, and
depend upou my exertions for a liv
ing." She looked straight into her com
panion's eyes as she spoke, and Harry
Quintard read there both determina
tion and pride. The expressiou in
cluded something else, too. It said,
"You know now my circumstance,
and also that I wish you to know
them."
Harry's eyes, however, never falter
ed beneath hers. They grew earnest
and ardent.
"Will you give me the name of the
place?" he asked gravely, and yet in
a pleading voice.
She wrote the address upon a small
card and gave it to him.
It was a month later that Harry
Quintard entered the parlor of one of
the most fashionable hotels in Kes
wick. It was a popular resort among the
lake tourists, and to-night there was a
grand reception going on.
Music and recitations were tc be fol
lowed by dancing in the ballroom.
Someone was singing as he went in,
and presently a murmur ran through
the throng as a lady, young, fair as
the morn and graceful as a willow, was
led forward and received with a greet
ing of warm applause
What was there abo
vision that sent Harry's blood tingling
through his veins with a wild pleasure
able thrill?
Sleeping or waking he had scarcely
once lost his fair face from his mental
sight since last they had met.
Yet what could this mean? This
brilliant entree among people of
wdfclth and position? He had thought
again and again of their meeting. He
had fancied all kinds of rural scenes
places isolated and beautiful, yet wild
withal, with none but himself to ad
mire the charminsr face and form that
had so bewitched him; but to meet her
thus, surrounded by an eulogic crowd
this iudeed he had never thought of.
Later he made his way to her side.
She had not forgotten him, that was
plain. Nay, more, Harry saw that the
surprise was also a pleasure.
The rosebud face with its spirituelle
light, was lifted to his, above her
raimeut of pale blue, anil Harry knew
that the excitement of her success
made her radiant, yet under alt that
the young man feit. there lurked a
deeper pleasure at their meeting.
"I gave some recitations in the town
near where I was stopping, '' said Linda
Barker, in explanation; "I saw the
minister there, and he arranged to
give me the church." The form of
the young artist grew dignified and
grave as she thus recorded her busi
ness proceedings. "The people who
heard me were so kind as to invite me
to recite for them, and so it happens I
am here. I shall be kept very busy, I
trust, this summer."
Mr. Quintard looked down in open
admiration of this darling young girl
with her baby face.
"Then I am to be cheated out of
those coveted woodland rambles. I
have been counting upon them ever
since we parted."
Linda smiled.
"If you knew my history, Mr. Quin
tard, you would say that I was not,
indeed, born for my present surround
ings." "They become you so well that
I could never think that," he re
plied. They were now away from the
crowd.
"Linda," he said, "before I leave
you to-night I want you to promise
me something. I want you to
promise you will marrv me in the au
tumn." "But how could that be, Mr. Quin
tard? Even were you not the affi
anced of another, your family would
never regard me as a suitable mate
for you."
"Affianced to another!" Harry was
so bewildered that he could only
repeat her words. "What do you
mean?"
Before she couldreply a voice sound
ed at their side. They had thought
themselves alone.
"Yes, Harry Quintard dare you
deny it?"
It was Lydia Holcamp who stood
there before them and thus accused
him.
Had Harry Quintard not once heard
Lydia's abuse of her teacher, he
would indeed have been dnmltv
founded. As it was, he read the game
in a trice.
"Yes, madaw, I do deny it," he
ejaculated, looking Lydia straight in
the face.
He had heard his sister say that Miss
Holcamp was sojourning in the moun
tains, but he had not troubled himself
to enquire where.
Lydia, however, was not to be thwart
ed in her purpose.
"Do you deny this, too?" and she
coolly read a portion of a letter con
taining vows of affection, and having
for a signature his own name.
"It is a base forgery, and yon
know it, woman!" cried Harry, al
most beside himself with her
persistency- And let me tell you at
once, before you go any further, that
I can very easily prove it to Miss
Barker, if in no other way, through
my own writing."
He had taken the letter from her
hand.
"There is a very palpable difference
between this writing and my own
see!"
He showed Linda one that he took
from his pocket as he spoke.
Linda turned toward him a pale but
trusting fa3e.
He was trembling from head to feet
with indignation. She laid her hand
on his arm and whispered:
"Come, I believe you," and while
the girl's mocking laugh followed
them they left the room.
Once away from her, Harry clasped.
Linda to his brea3t.
"Tell me," he cried, "do you really
trust me? Do you know that girl
fabricated that story because she hates
you?"
"And loves you," murmured Linda,
with downcast lids.
"And in your eyes does that excuse
her? Tell me, do you love me, Linda
darling, answer me?"
"I can not answer you until you
hear my story," faltered Linda, draw
ing away from him and sinking into a
seat.
She had grown pale, and her eyes
were suffused with tears.
"Hear the blunt truth. I am the
daughter of a coal miner."
Harry heard with profound aston
ishment, it is true, but he did not
start from her a smile, indeed, dawned,
upon his face.
"Yon remind me cf something
which perhaps I ought to have told'
you," he said. "My grandfather was
a poor carpenter, my father began his
career in my grandfather's shop.
I From that he became a builder, and is
now to be sure a rich contractor. So
you see I am not much in advance of
you in that respect."
Both laughed, but Linda said:
"Ah, but with you all has been dif
ferent. You have'been well educated,
and your wealth would enable you to
make a rich match. I have "had to
earn money while striving to educate
myself. 1 worked in a factory for
two years, when father died. He was
killed in a mine, and as my mother
was also dead, I was left alone, lhad
attended the common school, and was
there encouraged to recite. I saved
money and went to Manchester,, and:
worked for one year in a factory there.
While in that city I attended every
free entertainment, and studied muc6
at night. At last I applied for a posi
tion to teach, and secured it. Then
you met me."
"My noble girl," cried Harry, "E
would rather have you for my wife
to-day than any petted idle darling of i
luxury that I ever heard of."
Harry Quintard meant what he said,
and Linda Barker knew it.
He stooped his face till his lips met
hers in a long kiss.
Thus the daughter of a miner and
the grandson of a carpenter betrothed
themselves in true modern fashion.
And among the circles of fashion
and art to-day there walks no more
perfect lad J' than Mrs. Harry Quintard. .
Alfred Crayon.
Bill Nye and the lironza Goddes?.
I am in favor of a Statue of Liberty
Enlightening the World, because it
will show that we keep it on tap wiv
ter and summer. We want the whole
broad world to remember that when
it gets tired of oppression it can come
here and oppress us. We are used to
it and we rather like it. If we don't
like it we can get on the steamer and
go abroad, where we may visit the
effete monarchies and have a hio-h
old time.
The sight of the Goddess of Liberty
standing there night and dav, bathing
her feet in the rippling sea, will be a.
good thing. It may be productive of
good in a direction that many have
not thought of. As she stands there
day after day bathing her feet in the
broad Atlantic, perhaps some mos3
grown Mormon moving toward the
far west, a confirmed victim of his
matrimonial habit, may fix the bright
picture on his so-called mind, and "re
membering how, on his arrival in New
York, he saw Liberty bathing her feet
with impunity may be led in after
years to try" it on himself- BostoM
Ulirbz.
Where the Scorpion Gets His Poison
When he strikes you with the end of
his tail, like a wasp, he exudes a ven
omous liquid, and a man might better
hold a red-hot iron in his hand than to
get a tenth part of a drop of this
liquid into his blood. It is hot neces
sarily fatal, particularly in the Baha
mas; but it condenses the heat of forty
furnaces. In some parts of South
America scorpion bites are frequently
fatal, but I have not heard of any one
having been killed by them in Nassau.
This is easily accounted for. The
scorpion likes to feed on decayed
wood. In South America, where d"y&-
woods and other poisonous woods
abound, the scorpion feeds upon them,
and thus work into themselves a good
supply of outside poison, which, taken
together with his naturally poisonous
liquid, does its work for" whoever is
unfortunate enough to be stung. Bnt,
in Nassau, such poisonous woods are
few, and the scorpions have to fatten
themselves respectably on pine, cedar
and mahogany. From a Nassau Lei
ter. They rocked the boat and were drowned ha
South Park Lake, Chicago. This Is. certainly
dying as the fool dieth.