A TERRIBLE MOMMT.
Florence Bevore Pendar in N. T. Mercury.
It was at one of New England's pretty towns
that Nina Walters first joined our show, with
her fellow porformer, Louis Mason and Joe
Fuller; apprenticed like himself to old Pa
I'ryer, who was woat to boast that the chil
dren he took to train were as well cared for in
every respect as his own, which statement I
have never had any reason to doubt ; and I
may say I have more than once witnessed the
strict impartiality with which he administered
corporal punishment to his progeny and ap
prentices if they failed to come up to the mark
in their respective duties. Many a time have I
seen him in his ring, his full, red face beam
ing with genial smiles as he put a child through
he pad-act with:
"Now, Maudie dear, one, two, throe, jump.
Oh '.can't? Want a little help?" crack whip's
lash around the little girl's slender ankles, and
with:
"Oh! please don't, I will," over the banner
the frightened child jumped.
"Lor! bless you," would this veteran child
trainer observe ; "you've got to frighten some
on 'em into it It's all for their good. Just
look at the youngsters I've turned out, a earn
ing their hundred and fifty and two hundred a
week now," after which speech Pa Dryer would
beam complacently upon his listeners. But I
am digressing.
Nina Walters and her fellow-performers
were trapeze artists, wonderfully clever in
their line, and consequently high in favor with
Pa Dryer. They were down in the bills as
"The Fays." Pa Dryer had picked Nina up
out of the streets, f believe, when she was
about seven years of age, but the two boys
had been legally apprenticed to him by their
respective parents.
Before many weeks Nina's dusky eyes and
Sretty ways had captivated us all, and we were
er willing slaves, from Ned, our colored tent
maker, up. It was evident from the first,
however, that Louis and Joe were deeply in
love with Nina, but as far as I could see she
showed preference to neither, treating each as
frankly as a sister might a brother, which was
natural enough, as they had grown up togeth
er during some ten years, having become ap-
Erentices of Pa Dryer near the same time,
ouis, who was of an open frank disposition,
with a friendly word for every one, had just
turned twenty when they joined us, making
him three months the senior of Joe, his very
opposite, being quick to take offense, and of a
Singularly jealous nature. The only thing
they possessed in common was their good
looks, both being undeniably handsome.
One evening, after they had been with us
some six months, as I stood waiting behind
the curtain that shut out the ring entrance by
the. way I have not yet introduced myself.
Not that it is at all necessary, only perhaps,
some of my readers might like to know what
manner of person is relating these facts. I
am of a rather retiring disposition, although
my vocation of clown rather belies this trait
of mine. Outside of the ring I am familiar ly
known as "Still Done," earning that title, I
believe, by my fondness for a quiet life the
moment I have shaken the saw-dust from off
my heels. How I ever came to write off this
bit of terrible reality that crossed my path I
am not quite clear. Perhaps the desire to see
my name in print in a different form from its
habitual one influenced me; or perhaps the
hope that it might help out some poor souls
mad with jealousy to conquer that frightful
malady, may be to save them from committing
a crime, had a little to do with it
Well, as I was saying, this evening as I stood
waiting, I saw Nina coming slowly, as if in
thought, toward me. It was something so un
usual to seeker pretty face without a smile that
I exclaimed:
"Why, Nina, child! What ails you? Has Pa
Dryer been acting ugly?" Whatever old Dryer
had done in Ninas younger days, I had
never known him since she had been with
us to treat her otherwise than kind; in
fact, he rather petted her like the rest of us.
I was considerably relieved when she an-
"Oh, no. But don't you laugh at me. I really
believe Tm nervous." Here she laughed herself,
but it lacked the true' ring.
"Nervous! Whatabout?" I asked. Ton see,
she sort of looked upon me as an old fogy, and
didn't mind expressing herself freely, as it
were.
"Oh, I don't know." she answered, "only I
feel as if something was going to happen, don't
you know? It is silly of ma Why, when I
was a little mite, and Pa Dryer made me hang
from my chin from the trapeze, I never felt
so " Just then, my act being on, I had to
hurry away. When next I saw Nina she was
flying gracefully through the air from trapeze
to trapeze. After my act I had hastily resumed
my every-day clothes and returned to the ring
entrance, which was not my custom, for I
generally left the building as soon as I w as
through. This night something stronger than
myself bade me watch "The Fays." I have
seen a good deal of trapeze business in my
day, but never any thing so graceful and neat
as "The Fays'" performance. Nina's little
form seemed to glide through the air without
any apparent effort The applause, as usual,
was loud and frequent Their finish, as a
rule, was done in this wise: Nina taking a fly
ing leap from a small platform near the
roof, would be caught by Louis, who
hung suspended head downward from one of
the trapeze. This night the order of things
appeared to be reversed' for it was Louis who
mounted to the platform to take the leap, in
stead of going through a series ef evolutions
on the middle trapeze, while Nina prepared
herself for her daring drop. I had hardly
time to wonder at the change before I saw
Joe, who had been executing a Catherine wheel
on a trapeze still higher up, give a violent
tart He too, I think, was surprised.
Shall I ever forget the cry that rang through
the building that night, causing women to
faint and strong men to turn white like unto
death. I can hear it now, and the words:
"Nina! for Ood's sake keep clear of the mid
dle trapeze; the ropes are cut"
Too fate came Joe's warning. Nina's little
hands were already clinging to the doomed
bar, and Louis had taken nis leap for life.
A whir as of something whizzing through
the air as I closed my eyes to shut the horror
of it out, when a murmur like the hoarse roar
of the distant sea fell upon my ears, swelling
until it burst into a wild huzza. I looked and
saw Joe hanging head downwards from a trap
eze, while with ooth hands he upheld Louis,
Nina clasped safe by the latter's arm, the tra
peze to which she had clung but a moment be
fore lying in the ring some forty feet below.
Joe's daring intrepidity had saved his compan
ions' lives. He had drooped from his perch
above to a lower trapeze and swung himself to
the rescue of Lemis, thereby enabling the lat
ter to snatch Nina from a horrible death.
Cheer upon cheer greeted the two as they
were lowered safely to the ground, while one
old fellow, in his excitement, exclaimed, as
he caught Joe bj the hand.
"A brave act ye've done this night lad. It
onght to wipe oat a heap of sins fur ye."
That night Joe disappeared, and "The Fays."
as far as the public was concerned, were known
no more.
For many weeks Nina lay hovering between
life and death, but at last youth conquered. She
is now the happy wife of Louis, for that terrible
moment in which her fellow performer and
herself had hung as it were between heaven
and earth had revealed to her who had won her
heart Louis and his wife have long since left
the profession and are prospering well in then
new line of life. Two children have been
vonchsafed them Joe and Nina they are
named. And what about the other Joe, you
think perhaps. Well, it Was eight years before
I again met Joe. Of course I spoke about
Louis and Nini, telling him how happy tney
were and how they had named their first born
for him
"She did that, Nina?" he murmured, adding,
"and she must have guessed all; I saw it in
her reproachful eves that night I was mad
with jealousy. I knew that she loved Louis,
but I thought if he were out of her way she
would forget him, and then I could win her,
and so, madman as I was, I cut the ropes at
tached to the middle trapeze the one on
which Louis always did his finish." An ex
clamation of horrified surprise escaped me as
he finished with :
"You know how my fiendish attempt was
frustrated. How the girl I loved took the
place of the man I would have murdered. I
learned afterward that, feeling nervous, she
uluwu .mi imr
had persuaded Louis to take the leap instead
of herself. Only for that I should have Deen
branded as a murderer. "
"But you nobly redeemed yourself in saving
both their lives," I hero spoke.
"My God! can I ever shut out the horror of
it all?'" he cried bitterly. Bising, I said:
"Yea, I think yon can," then he bent his hag
gard eyes questioningly upon me, I added:
"Wait hero a few moments."
A little dark-eyed fellow stood shyly eying
the man I had left but a few moments before,
then laying his hand upon the man's arm he
asked:
"Are you my big, brave Uncle Joe? 'Cause
if you are mamma sent me to fetch you "
"Child ! what is your name?" exclaimed the
man eagerly.
"Joe Mason," answered the little one, add
ing: "but mamma calls me 'Little Joe:' then
glancing up he continued naively: "Uncle Joe,
mamma said you'd be glad to see me ; are you?"
"Glad!" and as Joe Fuller uttered that one
word, like unto a sob, he clasped the little fel
low in his arms, while I, closing the door,
crept softly away, convinced the child had won
the day.
Crossing the Atlantic.
Mr. Pearce, the builder of the Alaska,
the Oregon and other fast steamers,
has proclaimed his belief that the voy
age across the Atlantic will ere long be
accomplished in six days. Bat this is
as nothing compared with the hope
which a Leeds gentleman announces to
an astonished world. He promises
when he has built his ship to carry
people from Liverpool to New York in
three days. This wonderful achieve
ment is to be brought about by his new
aqua-aerial or wave ship. The aqua
aerial ship is intended for express, mail
and passenger service, also for un
armored war-ships for which great
speed is desirable. The wave ship is of
shallow draught when at rest,, and when
set in motion its draught is to decrease
with the increase of speed. Instead of
plowing its way through the water it is
to skim along or over the surface, there
by avoiding the chief cause of resist
ance to the progress of ordinary ships,
viz : Wave making. The resistance of
fered by the water to its onward caurse
is thus to be reduced to a minimum, and
the power uselessly expended in wave
making and displacement of water by
vessels of the ordinary type is to be
wholly utilized in the increase of speed.
This is to be accomplished by making
the bottom of the vessel a series of in
clined planes placed one after the other.
Why not arrange to have the vessel
lift herself out of the water with the ex
ception of the heel of her rudder post
and let her skim along on that ? The
voyage might then, perhaps, be ac
complished in a few hours.
Dismantling the Guns.
Springfield Republican : About 120
old-style muzzle-loading 58 caliber
Springfield rifles are now dismantled at
the armory daily, and such parts as fit
the new breech-loading model are re
used. The guns thus taken to pieces
are part of the 500,000 old-style rifles
made at the armory during the war and
stored there unused after 1865. The
dismantling began in 1868, when it was
found that the whole gun could be sold
in the market for only $1.50, while the
parts which could be used in the new
model, together with the sale of the re
mainder as scrap iron or to shotgun
makers, would net the Government
about $4. The parts sold are mainly
the stock and barrel and scrap material,
and most of these parts go to manufac
turers of cheap shotguns. The Whit
ney Company, of New Haven, and 'the
Remington Company, of Iliion, N. T. ,
are large buyers. The 50-ealiber rifles,
which were first made in 1866, of which
only 50,000 were manufactured, were
never stored, but went at once into
active service, and have been mainly
worn out in it. There are now stored
at the armory about 50,000 f the 58
caliber model, and 158,006 dismantled
barrels and 128,000 stocks. About 50,
000 "cleaned and repareS" 58-model
rifles are also stored, but will not be
dismantled, as they are mainly contract
guns and have seen such rough service
hi the field as to make it inadvisable to
use their parts in new rifles.
Lord and Lady Exmouth.
Long Branch Latter.
One of the most plainly' dressed wom
en in the room was Lady Exmouth.
She wore a black lace dress over a canary-colored
silk, cut very decollete, and
exposing a beautiful neck and sloping
shoulders. Loops of canary-colored
ribbon, diamond ornaments, including
a necklace, and a huge bouquet of yel
low roses finished her eontume. Lady
Exmouth is twenty-three years old, but
has not the freshness and bloom of En
glish childhood, nor the buxom expan
siveness of a British matron. She is
rather thin and pale, and if it was not
for her way of wearing her hair, cropped
at the top and in a Langtry knot at the
back, would look more American than
English. Lord Exmouth is a dapper
little man, about the size of Sunset Cox,
with a bright eye. During the evening
the noble pair never moved from their
chairs; he sat on one foot, swinging the
other, with an eyeglass in his ocular,
watching the dancers, and she alter
nately partook of a powerful smelling
bottle and the fragrance of her roses.
These emblems of the English aristoc
racy left last night for Saratoga, with
openly expressed disgust for Americans,
though they have only met two during
their stay in the hotel.
Eloquent.
There are those who are blind to the
eloquence of a gesture or to the pathos
of a look. They see the armless sleeve,
but unless the poor soldier appeals to
them with words, they do not feel the
charity that beareth another's burden.
Such resemble the gentleman who re
quired, before he would be pitiful, that
the expressive pan tomin e of the Irish
beggar should be enforced by pathetic
speech :
A gentleman passed a man who was
a painful spectacle of pallor, squalor
and wretchedness. The man said noth
ing, and the gentleman, turning back,
accosted him thus: "If you are in want,
why don't you beg?"
"Sure, it's begging I am, yer Honor."
"You didn't say a word. "
"Of coorso not, yer Honor, but see
how the skin is spakin' through the holes
of me trousers, and the bones cryin out
through me skin ! Look at mo sunken
cheeks, and the famine that's starin' in
me eyes. Man alive ! isn't it begging I
am with a hundred tongues?"
THIS LIFE IS WHAT WE MAKE IT.
Let's oftener talk of noble deeds,
And rarer of the bad ones,
And sing about our happy days,
And none about the sad ones.
We were not made to fre and sigh,
And when grief sleeps . . wake it ;
Bright happiness is standing by
ThiB life is what we make it
Let's find the sunny side of men
Or be believers in it;
A light there is in every soul
That takes the pains to win it
Oh ! there's a slumbering good in all,
And we perchance may wake it;
Our hands contain the magic wand
This life is what we make it
Then here's to those whose loving hearts
Shed light and joy about them!
Thanks be to them for countless gems
We ne'er had know without them.
Oh ! this should be a happy world
To all who may partake it;
The fault's our own if it is not
This life is what we make it
A QUEER STORY.
From the London Truth.
Mr. Adderley Benyon Byng was near
ly if not quite, the richest commoner in
England. He was about 35 years of age,
tall and slight, with a pale interesting
face and a faded yellow mustache. His
vices were comparatively few and of a
gentlemanly description, His near re
lations consisted of a couple of married
sisters. He had no entanglements and
was not a gambler. Needlees to say,
therefore, that he was acknowledged by
common consent to be the most eligible
parti in London. But, though by no
means impervious to the charms of the
fair sex, Byng was terribly difficult to
please. The loveliest young debu
tantes and the most astute mothers had
for years angled unseccessf ully for the
glittering prize. But each recurring
season brought with it some fresher
beauty or some more confident mamma,
and hence the hunting of Byng went
merrily on.
He liked to talk to women about pict
ures, about poetry, love, transcenden
tal philosophy and matters generally
mystical and etheral. He found them
so much more tolerant than men, and
so much less apt to detect hii utter and
ghastly ignorance of nearly every sub
ject upon which he conversed. Men, in
fact, considered Byng an affected nin
compoop, and only endured him for the
sake of his wealth.
"Why the deuce don't you marry, Ad
derley?" remarked Captain Tom Car
bury one day.
Tom Carbury was Byng's man-of-all
work and devonted adherent. He had
lived upon him for some years, and it
was only when his eccentricity and van
ity became utterly wearisome to the
practical henchman that he hinted at
matrimony. Carbury, moreover, did
not see why he should not make a pret
ty good thing out of his patron's mar
riage by a judicious arrangement with
the bride's family.
"My dear Tom," answered the tran
scendentalist, "where can I find a wom
an with a kindred spirit; with a soul
above the common things of earth ; one
who can really sympathize with my
own idiosyncrasy?"
"Blessed if I know," answered the
Captain, terribly puzzled by his patron's
words; "but, if I were in your shoes, I
should get rather sick of being hunted
about by all the old dowagers Of Lon
don and ogled by every girl who comes
out. I should marry one of them just
to spite the rest"
"I certainly cannot marrythem all,"
mused Byng, languidly. "Well, Car
bury, 111 think about it"
The Captain also determined to think
is over, for, as stated, he was getting a
little tired of his position- He was a
thick-set, bull-nocked man two or
three and forty, very fond f good liv
itg, and devoted to London And Bans.
Byng, on the other hand, professed to
despise frivolous amusemenos., live like
an anchorite for months together, and
vas in the habit of occasionally rushing
eff to wild and uncivilized parts of tha
globe, where the unfortunate iCaptain
was forced to submit to very unwelcome
privations. A journey through Tartary
hod brought the Captain to the verge
of rebellion, and though he did not like
the idea of quarreling with his bread
and butter, he felt that he could mot
endure many more such terrible experi
ences, so he began to look about him
for a helpmate suitable to the errant
philosopher.
His difficulty naturally lay in "the
abundance of material from which he
had to make the selection. After ma
ture consideration, however, he decided
in favor of a certain Miss Constance
Laxington. She was exceedingly pret
ty, it was her first season, and her only
near relative was her father, a gen
tleman whose pedigree was much long
er than his rent-role. Beside, Mr.
Laxington, as the Captain knew, was
by no means overburdened with eash,
and was not likely to have any hesita
tion in arranging some little scheme by
which Carbury might share in the ad
vantages Miss Laxington would derive
from a brilliant marriage.
"What a deuced pretty girl your
daughter is T said the Captain one even
ing o that young lady's father, as they
sat in the smoking-room of the Lawn
Club,
"Think so?" inquired the other, who
knew that Carbury was not likely to
make such a remark out of pure good
nature.
Might marry any one," continued
the Captain thoughtfully.
Laxington began to prick np his ears,
and said, "Yes, I think she ought to
do well."
After a little more preliminary fenc
ing, Carbury began to approach the
point.
"She doesn't know Byng does she?"
"No, and I shouldn't think it much
use if she did He's not a marrying
.nan, is he?"
"Well, I don't quite understand what
constitutes a marrying man," rejoined
the cautious Captain; ''but these things
do happen all the same. I should be
very glad myself to see Byng married to
a nice girl," he added, significantly ; "it
would do him a lot of good."
Laxington drew his chair closer to
Carbury, and the two became engaged
in a conversation apparently of the
most obsorbing nature. After half an
hour or so, Carbury arose to go.
"I suppose I must agree," remarked
Laxington; "but you are a terrible fel
low to deal with."
"All right," answered the other ;
"half when she's engaged and the oth
er on the. wedding-day. Man alive it
will be the making of you !"
A couple of days later Captain Car
bury contrived that Miss Laxington,
chaperoned by her aunt, Lady Carra
way, should be introduced to the
philosophical Byng at a house in Gros
venor Square.
"You might do worse than marry
that Laxington girl," remarked the
Captain to his patron the next morn
ing ; "young and lovely, and all that ;
got no inconvenient brothers ; and you
wouldn't be plagued with a mother-in-law.
Not much money, but that
doesn't matter to you."
"She seems a nice girl," said Byng,
in his usual languid manner; "But how
about the father?"
"Oh, Laxington 's all right; gambles
and races a bit, but he always settles,
and has never been caught cheating.
What more can you expect nowadays ?"
Byng was obviously impressed by the
probity of his father-in-law in posse.
"m call on Lady Car ra way," he an
swered ; and the subject dropped.
Byng duly vitited Her Ladyship, who
was naturally delighted to see him, and
he made himself exceedingly agreeable
to the fair Constance. That young lady
heightened the favorable impression
she had already made on him, for, al
though inexperienced, she was a clever
girl, and very soon discovered the pet
weakness of her admirer. In fact, by
the time he left the house he began to
think that Carbury was a man of un
usual discrimination, and that he might
really take into consideration the pros
pect of his matrimonial advice. Miss Lax
ington was charmingly unsopoisticated,
and at the Same time he thought he
could discover in her indications of a
soul that is to say, of a disposition to
appreciate his genius, and to share his
philosophical yearnings without any
symptoms of boredom. So for a few
weeks everything went well. Byng was
obviously facinated, and, without being
too conspicious in his attentions, he
followed Miss Laxington's movements
with considerable persistence, and
monopolized her society, whenever they
met. Suitors of the detrimental type
accordingly drpped off in despair, and
the engagement was looked upon by
the quidnuncs of society as a practical
ly accomplished fact.
Ascot drew near, and Byng invited
Lady Carraway and her fair charge to
share his box and drag for the meeting.
This was for him a very unusual step, for
he generally left the selection and the
entertainment of his guests to the in
defatigable man-of-all work.
Carbury therefore saw that matters
were reaching a critical juncture, so he
thought it advisable to make a few in
quiries about the pecuniary position of
Mr. Laxington. He did not succeed in
hearing much. Laxington had been
losing somewhat heavily on the turf,
but he had paid Tip ; and in the matter
of cards he did not seem to have been
doing either ny good or harm. So
Carbury felt for the present no particu
lar anxiety about his little commission,
and was satisfied to let the course of his
patron's love affair run as smooth as
might be.
Ascot came rand v ent ; Byng was lan
guidly assiduous in his devotion to Miss
Laxington, while the young lady, per
fectly dressed, conscious of looking
lovely, and fully aware of the envy,
hatred and malice which her good
fortune s timed up in the bosons of
her fair rivals, never enjoyed her
self more thoroughly or escited
more admiration. With the Cap
tain however, things went somewhat
badly. He betted rather more heavily
than usual, and lost his money jmd his
temper. Byng bored him terribly,
and he grew irritated by Miss Laxing
ton's exceeding sweetness. He sought
consolation in creature comforts, and
ate and drank to an extent which would
infallibly have aroused his patron's dis
gust, if that gentleman had not been too
much occupied to notice it.
Monday might found Captain 'Car
bury at the Lawn Club. He had paid
up his losses with some difficulty, and
felt irritable and dyspeptic. He saw
Laxington there, and it occured t him
that he might as well find out if that
gentleman's luck had been any better
than his own.
Laxington seemed anything but
pleased to meet him, and responded to
his friendly .greetings with the curtest
of nods.
"By the way, old man," began Car
bury, as a plan of action occured to him,
"I want to ask you a favor."
Laxington was evidently in a vile
ttemper.
"You've come to the wrong shop for
that, my boy !" he sneered.
"Had a bad week, I suppose," said
the Captain quite unmoved. "Well, I
was going to ask you to lend me 500,
only for a week ; fact is, I have been
rather hard hit. Beside, youH owe me
more than that m a fortnight, I fancy.
That little affair of ours may be settled
any day."
' 'I can't lend yon 500," growled Lax
ington, "or 500 pence either ; and as to
what yon call our little affair, I have no
idea of what you are driving at."
"What the deuce do you mean ? Didn't
you promise me a thousand on the day
your daughter got engaged to Byng?"
"No," answered Laxington, "I never
did anything of the sort !"
"Why, I've got your I O TJ."
""Very likely: there are a good many
of them flying about. Wish you may
get vour money!"
Carbury stared at his friend in disgust
and amazament. He could not, how
ever, express his opinion of him in the
sacred precincts of a club, so he merely
got up with a curt "good-night," and
left the room.
"That's your game, is it?" he mut
tered to himself. I'll be even with you
yet. It's not quite such a certainty as
you think."
The next morning Laxingtra evident
ly came to the conclusion that he had
made a fool of himself over night, for
he called on the Captain and explained
to him that he did not mean what he
said. He had a devil of a temper, he
added, and things had been annoying
him. Of course it was all right about
the I O U. The astute Captain accept
ed the apology, but he nevertheless
made inquiries, which resulted in the
unpleasant discovery that Laxington had
lost over 5,000 over the Ascot week,
and had been entirely unable to settle.
"A nice prospect for my 1,000!"
mused the Captain; "but what a fool he
was to show his hand."
That day Mr. Byng and his factotum
lunched together, alone, and the latter
turned his conversation upon Miss Con
stance. "Have you settled matters ir. that
quarter yet ?" he inquired.
"Not yet," said his patron, dreamily;
"but I am thinking of taking the
plunge."
"What are you waiting for? Charm
ing girl no nonsense about her; likes
good feed, too saw her eat three plate
fuls of lobster salad on the Cup day."
"Three platefuls of lobster salad?"
cried Byng.
"Certainly," said the Captain, eyeing
his friend maliciously. "Why shouldn't
she? Must have a wonderful digestion.
I couldn't do it myself."
"How horribly material!" groaned
Byng.
"Oh nonsense ! You don't expect a
well-grown young woman of five feet
seven incees to live upon air, do you !
"This is not a subject for joking," said
Byng severely, and the Captain ven
tured no further. But the philosopher
was obviously ill at ease ; he played with
his lunch and maintained a gloomy si
lence, The season wore on, but Miss Lax
ington's engagement was not announced.
People began to think that it would not
come off after all. Lady Carraway grew
anxious, and other fond matrons took
heart once again and cherished fond
hopes that the prize of the matrimonial
market might yet fall to an outsider.
Miss Laxington herself however, was in
no way disquieted. Her admirer was
perhaps less attentive, but his was not a
nature capable of enthusiastic devotion.
She met him constantly, and could not
fairly accuse him of any definite neg
lect ; she and Lady Carraway were often
seen upon his drag, and Byng invited
them both to accompany him to Eton
and Harrow match. This special mark
of favor did much to reassure her Lady
ship for Byng had often told her that,
though he was particularly fond of
cricket, he had never taken a drag to
Lord's, not caring to add to the num
ber of people who looked upon the
match as an occasion for gormandizing,
flirtation and the display of elaborate
costumes.
The day came. Lady Carraway and
her charge had been instructed to be
on the ground in good time for lunch,
so they made their appearance shortly'
after 1 o'clock. The drag was tenanted
only by Carbury and a few male friends.
Byng, as the Captain explained was
watching the game from the roof of the
pavilion, and had left word that he was
to be sent for as soon as his fair friends
had arrived.
A footman was accordingly dispatched
for him, and in a few minutes he clam
bered up to a seat next to Miss Con
stance. He was somewhat preocoupied
And silent, but this was easily accounted
for by the absorbing interest which he
evinced in the fortunes of the game.
Carbury watched him with some anxie
ty. Since their conversation on the
lobster-salad question the lady's name
' had been seldom mentioned between
them, and he began to fear that Byng's
marriage would really take place with
out any pecuniary advantage to him
self. Presently, as the bell rang for the
luncheon interval, Byng left the drag,
and talked a miuute or two to his but
ler Mr. Corker. This circumstance
somewhat aroused Carbury 's wonder;
he could not imagine what Byng could
have to say so his retainer, for all ar
angements of the household were left in
the Captains own hands. He failed,
however, to gather any information
from the butlers stolid visage. Byng
always did things well, and in a very
short time a table was spread on which
displayed every luxury which money
could buy or the mind of a man con
ceive. "Please forgive me if I leave you,"
said her host to Miss Laxington; "I
shall be back after the interval, and, in
the meantime, Captain Carbury will, I
am sure, look after your wants."
Miss Laxington graciously assented,
and the air was soon filled with the
clatter of plates and the popping of
champagne corks. Throughout the
progress of the orgie Carbury kept his
eye upon the proceedings of the but
ler. He was anxious to find out the
meaning of the mysterious communi
cation made by that worthy Byng.
Moreover, Corker's movements were
decidedly singular. He seemed per
petually it Miss Laxington's elbow;
now pressing on her attention some
triumph of Byng's chef, now filling her
glass with champagne, or piling up
her plate with strawberries. After
these little attentions he would retire
behind the drag and write something
down on a piece of paper.
The captain's curiosity at length ex
hausted his patience. He watched his
opportunity, therefore, and came upon
Corker suddenly just as that individual
made an entry on the mysterious sheet.
"What are you up to?" he asked.
Corker was momentarily confused, bit
he answered with dignity :
"I'm making a hinwentory, sir."
"What the deuce do you mean ?"
"A hinwentory, sir by Mr. Byng's
orders," responded the butler, somewhat
ruffled.
The Captain paused a moment, in
thought. It might be important, this
piece of paper. "Come Corker," he
said, "let me see that paper and I'll
give you a sovereign !"
"Couldn't do it, sir," answered the
incorruptible Corker.
"Oh, well, hang it. Ill make it a
fiver!".
Mr. Corker was not proof against the
extra inducement, and so he handed
over the mysterious slip.
"What on earth do you mean to say
your master told you to make this list ?"
The butler nodded.
"Well, rm blessed! Oh, this is al
together too lovely ! Here, I'll keep it
for a bit. Won't he open his eyes when
he sees it!"
Byng did not reappear until very
shortly before stumps were drawn for
the day, and he made a lame excuse for
his long absence. Carbury, as it hap
pened, did not see him again till late in
the evening, when he found him in a
state of great mental perturbation, por
ing'over a small sheet of paper, on which
certain hieroglyphics were scrawlad in
pencil.
"What's the matter?" cried the Cap
tain ; "you look awfully bad."
My hopes are shattered, " said Byng,
in a dismal voice; "my fondest illusions
have been rudely dissipated; the dream
is over."
"What are you talking about?"
"Look at this," answered the philos
pher in his most tragic tones, Carbury
took the paper and read :
Two platefuls mayonnaise, 2 ditto
Perigord pie, 1 ditto lobster salad, 2
quails in aspic, 3 meringues glasees, 6
glasses champagne, 3 helpings strawber
ries and cream, 2 ices, 1 glass of liquor
brandy.
"Well, what is it? It reads like a
menu."
"It is the disgusting record of the
guzzling propensities of Miss Laxing
ton. 1 ordered Corker to keep count,
for after what vou saw at Ascot I sus
pected her of materialism even of sen
suality and my worst fears are con
firmed!" "And you mean to say you won't
marry her because she likes a good
lunch?"
"Never would I link my fate to one so
wedded to the grossest pleasures ! I
shall start for, Palastine to-morrow
morning. You must come, so get
ready. Good night !"
C Tha Names of Nations.
These are derived principally from
some peculiar cause or object. For in
stance, Ireland which Julius Caesar
first called Hibemia is a kind of mod
ification of Erin, or the country of the
West.
Scotland, from Scotia, a tribe which
originally came from Ireland. It was
anciently called Calenonia.which means
a mountainous country forest and
lands.
Portugal, the ancient Lusitania, was
so named from a town on the Biver
Douro called Cale, opposite to which
the inhabitants built a city called Porto
or Oporto. And when the country was
recovered from the Moors the inhabi
tants combined the words and called it i
the Kingdom of Portucale hence Por
tugal !
Spain, the ancient Iberia, from the
Biver Iberius or Hispania, from the
Phoenician Spaniga, which signifies
abounding with rabbits, which animals
are very numerous in that country
hence Spain.
France, from the Franks, people of
Germany, who conquered that country.
Its ancient name was Celta, Ganl or
Gallia-Barcchata, the latter signifying
striped breeches, which were worn by
the natives.
Switzerland, the ancient Helvetia,- was
so named by the Austrians, who called
the inhabitants of these mountainous
countries Sweitzers.
Italy received its present name from a
renowned Prince called Italus. It was
called Hesperia, from its western lo
cality. Holland, the ancient Batavi, a war
like people, who was so named from
the German word hohl, the Eng
lish of which is hollow, implying a very
low country. The inhabitant are called
Dutch, from the German deutsch or
teutsch.
Sweden and Norway were anciently
called Scandinavia, which the modern
antiquarians think means a country the
woods of which have been burned or
destroyed. The appellation Sweden is
derived, from Sictuna or Suitheod. The
native term Norway or the northern way
explains itself.
Prussia, from Peuzzi, a Sclavonic
race; but some writers suppose it took
its name from Bussio, and the Sclavonic
syllable po, which means adjacent or
near.
Denmark means the marches, terri
tories or boundaries of the Danes.
Russia is the ancient Sarmatia, which
has been subsequently named Muscovy.
It derived its present name from Bussi
a Sclavonic tribe who founded the Rus
sian monarchy. The original savage
inhabitants used to paint their bodies in
order to appear more terrible in battle.
They generally lived in the mountains,
and their chariots were their only habi
tations. Turkey took its name from the Turks
or Turcomans, which signifies wander
ers, and originally belonged to the
Scythians or Tartars. It is sometimes
called the Ottoman Empire, from Otho
man one of their principal leaders.
There is much complaint of corrup
tion in American politics, and not with
out reason, and also of the fact that our
senate is filling up with millionaires,
and that too many men of money rath
er than of brains are getting into the
house of representatives. Now while
no one takes the ground that rich men
should be excluded from public life, the
welfare of the body politic demands
that rich men should not be promoted
exclusively on their money, and that
money shall not be used to corrupt
electors. But after all that is admitted
in regard to the use of money in Amer
ica, the case is vastly worse in England
where it costs a small fortune to get in
to parliament. The usual reckoning is
about 1 or $5 a vote. According to
parliamentary returns in the last elec
tion in the North Biding of Yorkshire,
Mr. Dawn ay spent 9,447 in obtaining
8,135 votesj and his opponent. Mr.
Eolandson, 5,599 in obtaining 7,449,
so that between them over 15,000 was
expended in getting 15,500 votes. In
North Durham Sir G. Eliot and J.
Laing spent nearly 14,000 and polled
together not quite" 10,500 votes, so that
each vote in this instance cost consid
erably over 1. In Westminster Lord
Algernon Percy, who was not opposed,
had to spend 2,000.