fuller the Scalpel.
w philosopher hMioldni that he
lted truism, ever get. Man and in
we include the ooBtal B.de-lH.uo
wears the sealskin ulsters and
hlf attention of the bifurcated
SLoI humanity from the considera.
f solemn and sacred tungi, -l;
. pue, whether mentally or phy
Lically considered. The psychologi
1 study of man, prosecuted as it
it is by observation and com--ffSAS
exact science By oh,
rSffin and experience we learn that
Ss- that he is prone to run away
S lS Abort wife, talk politics,
Sf J i out of the theater between acts to
ft . .man-" that he spends too much of
ftimrat'" lodge," and is given to
i riding and other pernicious prao
ilftet weScannottak him mentally
and trace the ramifications of
5f conscience and hereditary trend, to
ount for his vagaries. Therefore,
of our mental dissection of man is
guess work, or the result of vague
vLtnre Undor the scapel, however,
iffSorganitionof "the biped
Kfffeatherc" (Plato) the two leg
hvena ("tho animal that laughs ),
Ends revealed in its minutest detail.
Indiana law has heretofore been hos
ilatothe study of anatomy. Whilo it
Quired of the surgical practitioner a
Sute knowledge of the human form m
,11 its complexity, aud mulcted him in
Lvy damages for any injury done his
natient in consequence of a lack of such
Lwledge, it at the same time made its
Liisition in the only manner that
Jlcould be acquired, a penitentiary of
fense Recent enactments havo reme
died this defect, and, by providing logal
facilities for the study of anatomy, done
,way with the necessity for grave rob-
i before stated, the only manner in
which the student can master the intri
cate system of bones, muscles, arteries,
reinsnerves, eto., by which life is sus
Uined in the human body, is by tho care
ful dissection, part by part, of the body
itself. The dead body is known to the
profession by the, various names "stiff,"
'subject" and "cadaver" in the aggre
gate as "material." In former tinios
L.tarial" in this city could only be pro
cured by midnight raids upon the neigh
boring cemeteries, and this unsavory
ind unholy traffic gave employment to a
number ol proiessionai resurrectionists
ind their assistants. Now, however, the
law which exacts from the medical prac
titioner the minutest knowledge of his
profession, affords him facilities for
the acquisition of such knowledge
by awarding him the un
claimed bodies of deceased paupers.
The manner in which the award of ma
terial is mado at the Indiana Medical
i11pm is as follows: When Dr. Marsee
makes a successful claim to the body of
a patient dying at the City Hospital or
any of the benevolent institutions, he
. i I- 1 x 11
has the body transporoeu to uiu uouce,
and then prepares it for dissection by in
jecting it with arsenite of soda and red
lead. The arsenite of soda is to prevent
decomposition, while the red lead is to
distend and color the arteries. After
the subject is prepared, the class enti
tled to it are notined mat it is reauy.
The first five students who matriculate,
are known as Class 1. and so on to the
end. A subject costs the class $25 $5 a
"part. Die head and neck constitute a
"part," while the legs and arms, with t
proportionate section of the trunk attach'
ed to each, are separate "parts." Some
times, for the sake of economy, ten stu
dents, instead of the usual number, five,
club together for the purchase of a sub
ject, which is thus made to cost each one
only 82 60. After a subject has been
thoroughly dissected, the bones are sold
for $5 or 86, for the purpose of being
set up as a skeleton. They are macerated
m water lor four or live months, care
fully cleaned and scraped, and then "ar
ticulated." If the proprietor of the
skeleton is particular about having it
clean and white, ho gives it a thorough
soaking iu ether before articulation.
The student who articulates his own
skeleton derives a double benefit there
from. He not only impresses indelibly
upon his memory a knowledgo of even
the minutest bones and the relation they
sustain to each other, but the wiring of
the skeleton acquires a delicacy of me
chanical manipulation which coines in
good play in his practice of surgery. A
good skeleton, well articulated, is worth
in the market, but no stndent who
had once successfully put one together,
could be induced to boII it. save in the
direst emergency.
Newspaper literature pertaining Lo the
dissecting room is usually of the sensa
tional order, and designed to fatten the
popular prejudice airainHt the nrofession.
The writers usually dwell with great
unction on the imaginary horrors of the
ene, and their productions bristle with
such words as "ghostly," "grinning,"
''livid," eto. The offensive odor Bnd the
impiety and irreverence of the students
re dwelt upon with great emphasis.
A reporter of the Journal, who visited
me cussecting-room of the Indiana Col
,eS?e, a few nights since was agree
bly disappointed at the absence
i traditionary horrors. He found
smell, it is true. The smell is unde
niable, and can not be reasoned away.
It as not the smell of carrion, however,
nt a strong "meaty" odor, like that
ef a slaugherhouse where an attempt
has been made to keep it clean. There
ere gome five or six subjects in various
tages of dissection, some of them show
"? little save the bare bones, others
.""parativeiy fresh. Around each sub
jt was guthered a group of students in
long calico gowns, each at work on his
JPwt," some of them with open books
wfore them, and some apparently snfli
ftently np in the study to dispense with
we text book. There" was no "nonkey
ffig. no obscene jests or flippant con
versation They all seemed to be full of
business, and were earnestly and decor
ly, if not reverently, Retting the
.f ther money. Among the ex
Ped intestines of a colored subject a
o-uj, , Biaaenu were groping witn
? occasionally bringing up an un
JBnUy substance, which they united in
wclarmg a beautiful specimen,"
her subject was that of an old wo-
r& With rrnnVAsI Idiva mnA mvmm an1
Jkta i all drawn out of shape. Though
been one of bitterness and sor
row, she was undoubtedly "crookod" in
her make up. In a room below was a
most interesting subject, that of a young
woman, whose eventful lifo history was
abstractedly considered in the Journal a
few days since. She was Binall in stat-
ure, with delicate, clear out features,
white skin and appearance of refinement
which is not usually encountered in tho
dissecting room. When our reporter
was admitted, tho work of dissection hud
already progressed to a considerable ex
tent. The scalp hod been removed, the
skull sawn apart, the brain taken out,
and the acappel had laid bare the chest.
The eyes were closed and the features
wore a peaceful look, except that tho
mouth had been sewn up. Around this
bit of frail humanity the clustered stu
dents discussed only science. There
was not a word or suggestion of ribaldry.
The students exercise great care in dis-
soction, for even a slight cut of the fin
ger may prove fatal. Tho bit of muscle
of flosh is caught up with a dolicato hook
before being cut away. Septio poison in
a cut in dissection where the patient
has died from erisipehs, for instance is
always dangerous in tho extreme, and
generally fatal. A cut whore the patient
has not died from a septio diseoso, may
produce a painful and obstinate local ul
cer, but is not daDgerous. A cut re
ceived from a fresh snbjoct is more dan
gerous than from an old ono. Tho arse
nite of soda with which subjects aro pre
pared, is in itself poisonous.-Mf iViwkW
Journal,
Slorhu of the Duke or Argyll.
If one were to meet the Duke hurry
ing cityward on foot, and carrying a
Binall carpet-bag, one would set him
down at once as an intelligent banker's
ilnrk. Meet hiui in evening dress at
Lady X.'s, and you would still be far
from suspecting that lie was the descend
ant of a long line of heroes and states
men. Tn anuearanca ho is essentially
iwiniinnnnlivn. It is only when he be
gins to taia, or rtnuui- wuuu ue nuruis u
his subject, that you recognizo uiysses
Vvon then vou are a lorn? time in detect
ing the grand signeur. His conversation
is that of a Bcholor who has yet seen
something of the world, though in whom
the enthusiast is apt to prevail over tho
But for ono circumstance, the jjuko or.
Argyll might have ended as a mere
rmiliea of the "Lord Vincent" whom
Bulwer sketched in Pelliam, a dilettante
who had always a uilluse review on hand,
n nrntai.f nf nurtv organization not finite
M jitujuv. ' -j n - x
reiulv. and some brilliant ideas which
just wanted to be put into shape. From
this fate ho was saved by a passion ior
. . . m i a .
hard work, tie is simply MdciatigaDio,
and on busy men their crotcucts and mcir
doubts sit lightly, while their enthnsi
asms are also undor control.
The late Strickland Cookson (the
frinrwl ami executor of Wordsworth).
told me he was on a Royal Commission
with tho Duke of Argyll. I think they
had to inquire into some rather abtruse
legal points, "in a week, said iook
nn "the Duke had so mastered the sub'
ject that he knew more about it than any
of us, lawyers included, luooiogy, too,
ho had deeply studied, as well as natural
scienco, antiquities and politics.
To the queen of the sciences, however,
as the schoolmen called theology, one
fancies he has long since bidden farewell,
his mind having taken a more manly de
velopment. As Marquis of Lome, and
fur some time after, he plunKod eagerly
into tho fray whenever the merits of
the .Established lurk, me rree
Kirk, or the Prolatic Schism came
prominently under discussion in
the land of toddy and polemics. At 1!)
he refreshed the world with his views on
some of these topics in a pamphlet bear
ing the in questionable-taste title of "A
letter to the Peers by a Peer's Son."
Tlinsm n-lin tliH&crreed with Lord Lome
thought it the safest answer to coll him a
"prig; those who approved, said soms
thing about "deuced clever." How
manv on either side read the brochure is
another question. The men of this gen
eration are not to bo converted by solemn
arirnmnnta earefnllv marshaled. Laugh
ter, or a shrewd appeal to self interest, is
now your most convincing orator.
Still, the heir of MacCallum More had
mado himself a name as a rising young
mfltl? fin il this would havo been suffi
cient, even if the self-styled "Bishop of
Argyll and the isles nd not aone ins
best to give the Marquis additional noio
vinfr. The later Arervlls. while remain
ing staunch Whigs and upholders of tho
Covenant, had yet lapsed into tne naoii
ff-ntitrfifited throucrh constant sojourn in
England) of taking the communion at
Easter and Christmas in an Episcopal
chapel. One Christmas, the Bishop,
who knew Lord Lome would present
ln'munlf vrnte to sav that ho could not
be admitted to the sacrament on account
of his irreverent romarks ancnt the bcot-
tish Episcopacy. Lord Lome only
laughed, till he discovered that the little
Beet had the big Church of England at
its back. Dr. Bloomfield, Bishop of
London, a man alternately courageous
and compromising, declined to adminis
ter to Lord Lome the eucharist which a
brother Bishop had refused.
The Duke, by the way, tells a story of
Bloomfield (toward whose memory he is
far from bearing a grudge) which is
worth repeating as a specimen of that
rare phenomenon, a neat German re
partee. It was at a party, where the
guests had been amused with experi
ences of clairvoyance. "Well," at length
exclaimed Bloomfield, puzzled at what
he had seen, and unable to explain, "but
what, then, were our eyes given us for?'
Bunsen, who was present, instantly re
plied: "To limit our vision, my Lord."
The Duke naively owns that he did not
consider the reason Riven as exhaustive.
It must be remembered he is a Scotch
man. London Truth, January ltt.
Never give away a penny indiscrimi
nately. If a beggar tells you he is
starving, order him to come to you the
next day. If he makes his ojpearance
it is a proof of tbe falsehood of his state
ment If it had been true he would have
died during the night.
It is not so much the quantity that
tells as the quality. The devil has as
much brains as an archangel, but he
doesn't look at things in the same way,
and that's why he is where he is.
Undertake not to teach your equal in
the art he himself professes; it savors of
arrogancy.
Irish Lands.
Whoever may have traversed green
P.m'n from the mountains of Wieklow to
the wild yet rich scenery of Killarney
or tne stony wastes aim grim lastnesseit
of Couneiuara, from tho south coast of a
thousand inlets to the mighty cliffs of
the northwest and the columnar wonders
of the Causeway, . the stranger who
nrnmwa tlm rentnil iiliiina Invcrv lunil-
scapo of cultivated country or of vast
reaches oi uurx uog lias Bumnuis in tue
further distance) , who sees tho spread
ing loughs, the broad-flowing Shannon,
and the rivers flowing into many estua
ries by which every province is watered,
un.l ivhn viuita Htn urnntllnml rncrinnR and
innumerable tracts of fino plow land and
of pastures luxuriant beyond r.ngiisn ex
amplo, must have felt the mystery and
sorrow of the fact that such a kingdom
romains but half utilized by the indus
trial default of its inhabitants, and that
over a large proportion of its surface Ire
land yields only poverty to tens of thou
sands wuo snouid 00 among tue most
happy and prosperous people on the
nartli A rliiTifttrt mild ami moist from
the influenco of the Atlaniio, from the
lull ranges in every maritime county,
which condenso the sea vapor into rain,
and from the humidity duo to peat bogs
occupying a seventh part oi tne snpern
cies of the island, is uncongenial for the
i-inoninir nf fnl linrvftHbi of bread corn:
and, indeed, tho low Hummer tempera-
ture and tre prevalence oi nouu, es
tuu'inllv in flin Knnth and went, render
the maturing of wheat, aud also of fine
malting barley, precarious, uut tnese
atmospheric conditions favor the growth
nf mil a nf irrixm forairn. roots and (Trasses.
and of natural pasture ic profusion. Ire
land is not lormea to oo a granary; nu
ture makes it a meadow, a dairy and a
stall. In part, also, it is a garden of
vegetables and fruit. Here is a country
which should at least be a, paradise of
live stock a land flowing with milk, if
not with honey. And the wonder to a
stranger is why Ireland, possessing few
manufactures and little of mineral and
metalliferous industry to divert the ener
gies of its people from the mother art,
has not presented to the world a pattern
of good management in every depart
ment of husbandry. If the profits of ag
riculture are insufficient for the woll-be-
ino nf tl.o nAniilnti'nn it. ift nnrfainlv not
tlie quality of tho soil which is to blame;
for no ono acquainted with the soils of
. ... .1 1 1
Ireland will class tuom generally as mie
rinr fn tlm lif lit. nands and noor clay of
- "O . . "
Flanders, or will compare thoir natural
fertility unfavoraniy witn tne araoie nna
nnoinva lnn.lu nf Itaiimiirlr anil Holland.
IflinbUlD lllll.lll V . i.. .......
Where are the Irish lands representative
t Al. .lfna nrA llAaflia wll Wll V.nrrlltlll
husbandmen Lave wrought to a high
too, the adhesive clays which English
farmers now nna it pronuess 10 cumvuio
are but unknown.
Pun limit nf am-icnlturftl nrosneritv be
attributed to an undue pressure of the
Irish population upon uio limits oi meir
..ilti't-ntoil lnnilu9 Kn far as the irenorol
average is concerned, the available area
is not below that of other countries wnere
tlm ncrriniiltnrn in extolled for its excel
lence. While in England 21,500,000 out
of 32,5000,000 acres of total area have
been brought under crops and in grass,
Tmland 15 1150 .000 out of 20.750.000
acres are under management and this
amounts to two and tnree-iouniis acres
to each head of the population. In Bel
tlm nuantitv of cultivated land is
only ono acre per head; in Great Britain
it is one and one-quarter acres; in Hol
land it is one and one-third acros; and up
to three and one-quarter acres per head
in Denmark. An excess ofi nliabitants
in proportion to the capabilities of the
country for maintaining them, can
scarcely distinguish Ireland as a wholo,
whatever may bo the case in particular
.ii'iitriiitR .Tn.liinff by tko examnlo of
kingdoms in which it is admitted that
cultivators of the soil thrive, it appears
probable that Ireland might support in
onmfnrt tlm pristine 5.350.000. who. in
parts of many counties, are alleged to be
on the verge of starvation, whenever
Providence visits tiiem with an unpropi
timia oAfiinn.
There is enough cultivated land in
Ireland to be devisable into holdings av
timmna twenty-nine acres for each of the
existing ocoupiers; and hence there can
be no absolute necessity why a more ru
inous morcellement of occupations
should obtain than we find in Denmark,
where the holdings average tnirty-iwo
acres each, or in the small-iarra provin
ces of Belgium, where they averago little
mnrA tlmn tttpntv acres each. Here.
however, a remarkable inequality exists
in tho distribution of a total areo, which,
if equally proportioned, might be found
amplo. Out of the 481,000 occupiers in
Ireland holding more than a singlo acre
each in the year 1878, there are 207,000
holding above one and under fifteen
apron nnil of these (50.000 occupy not
mnm titan rmo tn five acres each. The
number of occupiers with moro than fif
teen and not exceeding thirty acres, is
. . . . n.ll win 1. .1 1
124.00U. And with iWi.wu iarmors uoiu
ing from over one up to thirty acres each,
tlm rn in din nnlv 150.000 farmers occu
pying above thirty acres, nearly half of
these namely 00,000 having farms of
over and un to fifty acres. Farmers of
over fifty and up to 100 aores, number
51.000; only 21,000, or about 4 per cent,
nf tho furmnrs nf Ireland have over. 100
and up to 200 acres; and but 11,000 have
more than axj acres. rropaDiy aoout
l.oifnfall tlm pultivuted land is in the
hands of small occupiers of from over
one and not more than nity acres eacn.
l,i!a tlm mrrinultural condition of a
tl.ir.l nf Tr lanil is revealed and tested
by the little occupations of from over
one and not moro than thirty acres eacn.
rimvo mioannrec iation of the real state of
i : -
Irish husbandry would arise from taking
ing it to be represented maily by the
class of farms wnicn x.ngnsn tenauis
n,ii.i i-orrarrl as 1:1 rep or medium-sized.
w u uiu . rj
or worthy the name of farms at all; yet
'. -1.1 i ii. .
such are those commonly visited ior tue
purpose of acquiring information as to
the character and position of Irish hus
bandry.
The Juvenile Theology-Mother at a
tea-table: "Jack, who helped you to
those three tarts?" Jack, age seven:
"The Lord." The Lord? Why, what
do you mean, Jack?" Jack: "Well, I
helped myself; but father said yesterday
that the Lord helps those that help them
selves." "Mamma, what are twins made for?"
Bir precarious brother replied, "So
that cannibals may eat philopcenas."
Benedict Arnold's Wire.
H. C. Van Sohaoek. of Manlius. Onon-
dago county, New York, fathor-in-law of
Aaron .1. Vandenwel, of this city, read
before the New York Historical Society
last evening, a paper entitlod "Benodict
Arnold before his Treason." The paper
was too voluminous for reproduction in
a daily paper. In concluding it Mr. Van
Sehaack, however, touchod upon a phase
of the subject too interesting to be omit
ted: "An attempt was made," ho said,
"many years ago and has been repeated
since, to implicate Mrs. Arnold in her
husband's treason, and in fact to make
hor the chief conspirator. The object of
that effort seemed to be to oonvinco tho
world that had not Arnold marriod Miss
Shippen, ho would not have strayed from
the path of patriotic virtuo, his treason
would not have occurred, aud by conse
quence, the unfortunate Andre would
havo escaped tho gallows, ltemarkable
discovery that Arnold, would have boen
no traitor but for his wifo! Wo shall
perhaps next be told that it was the con
dition on which sho yielded to him her
heart and hand. It was Davis' biogra
phy of Aarou Burr which undertook to
convince tho world that Arnold's virtu
ous patriotism was corrupted by his
wife. Strange indeed is it that tho
American public should thus have been
inade acquainted with this remarkable
fact through the pages of a work which
commemorates a character scarcoly less
extraordinary thau that of the arch
traitor himself. If, indeed, wo were
called upon to designate two individuals
figuring upon tho pages of American
history whoso characters beyond all oth
ers were the most mysterious and tho
hardest to understand, we should unhes
itatingly point to Benedict Arnold and
Aaron Burr.
After Arnold's tseapo from West Point
Washington kindly gave Mrs. Arnold
her election to be sent to her hnsband in
New York or her friends in Philadelphia.
Sho chose the latter, and whilo on hor
way in her carriage with her nurse and
young child to thatoity, she stopped ouo
night in New Jersey with Mrs. Prevost,
who two years afterward became tho
wife of Colonel Burr. Now the state
ment in Burr's biography represents him
telling his biographer what Mrs. Burr
told him after marriago in regard to Mrs.
Arnold's admissions to hor while stop
ping at her house. (Mr. Schoack hero
quoted from tho Burr biography. ) This
account places before us a newly-mar
ried yeung lady of nineteen and sho a
young mother corrupting an American
General of six years' standing, and
of tho mature age of forty, and that
Uonoral her husband, all (for such is tho
motive ascribed) to acquire tho means of
gratifying an inordinate vanity. Credat
Jutla'iis Apjxla, non ego! Time will for
bid my entering upon a full vindication
of this lady from the absurd chargo of
being the author of the plot for the' sur
render of West Point, aud her husband
only a reluctant instrument in her hands
to further tho dark scheme. The hear
say testimony upon which it is based is
so unsatisfactory in itself, bo inconsistent
with historical documents of established
authenticity, and with the clearly ex
pressed opinions of General Washington
and Colonel Hamilton and Major Franks,
that I protest against it as inculcating an
unnatural and revolting supposition, j
impeach it in the name of femalo lovcli
noss, incapable of such baseness. I ar
raign, it in behalf of youth without the
art to conceive or the craft to mature tho
foul plot, and I discard the revelation in
all its material positions as absurd in
itself and as a tax upon our credulity at
tho expense of our judgment. Margaret
Arnold novor dug the crave for her hus
band's honor. Burr's story is entirely
too biar. Thcro is. however, an episode
to the history of Mrs. Arnold's visit to
Mrs. Provost's, which does not appear in
Colonel Burr's biography. Burr was
himself at Mrs. Provost's at tho time
Mrs. Arnold was there, he probably be
ing at time a suitor of Mrs. Provost. It
is not surprising, however, that Burr
should havo neglected to state to his bi
ographer the facts that whon Mrs. Arnold
left her house in the morning Burr offered
hisoscort, which, he protendod, might
bo useful to her in the then excited state
of tho public mind. On tho way he baso
ly made love to this olllictod lady, think
ing to take advantage of her just feelings
of indignation towards her husband and
her helpless condition to aid him. Being
indignantly ropellcd, he treasured up his
revenge and left a story behind him
worthy of his false and malignant hcurt
to blast this amiable ludy's name.
In conclusion the lecturer said: 'Teter
Van Sehaack, LL. D., was in England
several vcars after Arnold's treason. On
the occasion of ono of his accustomed
visits to Westminster Abboy, his atten
tion was arrested by the entrance of Gon-
eral Arnold accompanied by a lady. The
lady was doubtless Mrs. Arnold. They
passed to the cenotaph of Major Andre
and there stood. What a scene for a
pencil! The traitor Arnold at the tomb
of a man for whose ignominious fate be
was responsible, reading the monumental
inscription that will transmit to all agos
thetalo of his infamy.' A. Y. World.
A Somewhat Astonished Pedaoooi e.
It was a wise suggestion that school
children ought to have a great hearty
laugh every day, and one of tho teachers
in the Chico public school was thinking
the matter over recently, and how he
could possibly give the scholars in his
department a Rood hearty laugh. This
teacher is a Normalite, and has imbibed
all the tactics of a strict disciplinarian,
and to brine his pupils up to the hearty
iauchinff pitch, lie would necessarily be
,1 i i i t:. i: Wl.il
compeueu ii lower uin iiiguuj. n unc
thus sittinz in his chair coiitating,he
braced himself baik, tipping his chair
on tho hind legs, and over he went chair
and all, an. I instead of his stern features
lookintf over the scholars, a pair of num
ber of twelve 1k)oU came, liko an
wlition between him and his pupils.
The scholars at first wondered for a
moment bow their teacher had disap-
pared from view, but when the eclipse
had gono off, and ho commenced to rise
again to the surface, it was then that
thev concluded that the laugh cam in,
and right heartily thoy enjoyed it
Chico Kccord.
A trnnnor namml Whitehead WBS es
pecially commissioned to keep his eye
peeled "for Chief Moirosi, and he shot the
old African while be was making for a
little cave.
London now has a 8ouety for Prevent
ing Street Accidents and Dangerous
Driving.
DO AS YOU'RE BID.
"Mind a man!"
These words were uttered in a tone of
splendid scorn; but an unseon auditor
around the corner of the piazza only
smiled, and yet he was a man.
"But, Doll, you will have to mind your
husband," responded a gentle, drawling,
exasperated voice.
"Shall I?" returned the clear and spir
ited note of tho flint speaker. "Ho has
not appeared on the stage yet, Grace.
When he does, it seems to me it will be
time enough to contemplate submission."
ihe gentleman on the piazza smiled
ngain, but he rose quietly and walked
away; He did not like to be a listener.
however voluntarily, for be was a gentle
man. He did not altogether esuipo that
fresence, however, by his own absence,
le carried with him a vivid picture of
the tall, slight figure, graceful as a deer ;
the dark, tender eyes, that could be full
of lightning; tho proud, delicate, sensi
tive face; the abundant biowu hair, shot
with red rays, like a ripe chostnut skin.
lie had studied this portrait many days,
for he had known Dorothea Schonck as a
;hild ; aud though for years they had not
mot. this Summer they were together in
a quiet little tavern in the hills of Ver
mont, air. llorton for rest from a year or
hard work in a city parish. Dora to be
with her invalid mother, who could not
bear hor usual round of Newport and
Saratoga.
Dorothea Schenck was a spoiled child.
The idea of obedience was as distasteful
to her as bit and bridle to a wild horse.
Her outbreak this morning was excited
by somo careless gossip of brace Hamil
ton'sa girl of her own ngo who had
come with them to Addis, partly because
Mora had coaxed her, partly becauso It
was cheap, and Grace was not too rich.
The suhioct of their discourse had been
the sufferings, publicly paraded, of a cer
tain little lady known to this party, who
had been very and, inooed, absurdly
extravagant, and brought her husband to
the brink of failure ; so near that shu had
beeu compelled to accept a sudden and
severe retrenchment. Graco's aunt, who
was also staying at the Saltash House, hud
blamed Mrs. Uluke severoly. and Dora
had not objected till Grace affirmed that
she did not at all sympathize with Mrs.
Blake, as her husband had been very
open with her in regard to his business
affairs, and had long since told her that
she must give up certain habits of luvlsh
expense, or expect Dim to tail a Met
which the natural levity aud folly of the
woniua's nature led her to treat as a
threat. And so the end came.
"And I'm not sorry for her; Bhe ought
to have minded him!" Uraco said. A
woman's natural duty is obedience; she
ought to havo known that it is our destiny
to yield to our superiors," whined Miss
Hamilton; and this, which seoined to
Dora superlative cant, had brought out
her sharp exclamation. She herself was
utterly undisciplined; a blind indulgence
bad set her adrift in life without an idea
of duty, and she had yet to learn any law
but her own will, or any restraint hut her
own caprices. Poor child ! lire is the
sternest of creatures, even with all the
preparations that can be made for its en
counter, and a merciless pedagogue to the
willful and ignorant. Mr. llorton wus
bewitched with Dora against bis judg
ment. Her fresh, piquant grace, her
regal boautv. and her very insurgent way
of action and speech, captivated him.
t i . ;.L ..1 .I.-. ..I...
lie Knew, wun paiuiui cieurnuss, nun sue
was as unfit for a ministers wife as a
woman could be. but he also knew that
without her his life would lone its savor,
and become a routine of the dullest order,
perhaps misery, though conscience
warned him not to be weak as this, whilo
his work remained yet to be done.
Tho next day there was to be at that re
sort of Summer boarders, in lack of all
other amusements, a picnic to Glen Falls,
a wild ravine in the heart of tho hills,
through which a rapid brook tore its way,
plunging from one precipico to another,
at no one spot to be seen in full beauty,
but reserviug its coy surprises ior inose
who had skill and strength to climb up
ward to its source a clear mountain pond
that slept amid dark woods, fed by hidden
springs. The day was warm, yot fresh
w ith the wonderful freshness of mountain
nir; and when the long wagon of Saltash
Holme arrived at the loot of the ravine
all tho younger members of the party
were unanimous in their resolve to climb
to Clear 1'ond, while the older ladies and
one white-haired bachelor, who cared lit
tie for scenery and much (or his ease, re
mained quietly on a broad rock by the
lower pool, where thick pine boughs
sheltered them from the sun, and the cool
odor of dripping water seemed to disperse
whatever boat the July weather threat
ened. Two couples had already gone up
ward, when Dora and Grace, attended by
Mr. llorton and Ned Schenck.a cousin of
Dora's, began the climb. Both gentlemen
had been sufficiently accustomed to forest
paths to make the matter easy aa far as
they were concerned, but to feet only
used to the walks of the city or the smooth
turf of the croquet ground, this rough yet
slippery ascent looked learlui enough;
nor were kid boots the best preparation
for sharp rocks and moss strewn with
nine needles. It seemed all but impos
sible for Dora to attempt such a task, but
her pride forbade retreat, while Orace, in
despair, suffered herself to be hall carried
ud the steepest pitches by Ned Schonck,
and lifted bodily over stones and logs
that sho declared herself altogether un
able to surmount. Fortunately for her
protector, she was slight, and not tall; ho
could easily spare all the strength neces
sary. But Dora would not allow herself
to be more than guided, though the guid
ance was peremptory.
"Put your foot here, Miss Hchentk;
now the other on that stone, (five me
your left band, and take firm hold of Unit
Lough to the right."
Dora obeyed with the most child-like
confidence, for the abyss below her and
the height above were alike terrible; but
she had that best of courage, which will
not turn back, though trembling with
terror.
Grace, from below, a helpless burden,
saw with u sort of pique how well Dora
endured the march, and caught Mr. Mor
ton's admiring glances at the lithe figure
that was at once so brave and so docile.
To tell the truth, Grace had intended that
the handsome young clergyman should
be her own escort, and was not at all sat
isfied at being regelated to Ned Schenk's
care, who was strong and good tempered,
no doubt, but neither good-looking nor
rich. It was not from pure desire to
tease that Grace called out, In her soft,
drawling tones: "Doll, you ate really a
miracle. I never expected to see you
mi nd a man' so implicitly."
Dora was indignant. She knew well
that Grace could be spiteful, but the spite
did not hurt her so much as the answering
consciousness that, in spite of her fine
theories, she had been most implicitly
submissive to Mr. Horton's escort. The
girlikh, filly pride thai ws hor great
fault, rose iu arms, hi e did not answer
Grace, but, with a resolute look on her
flushed face, sprang onward after her own
fashion, stumbling and dine ing as well as
she could, every moment expecting Mr.
llorton to advise or remonstrate, but
bent on heednw his voice no more.
She expected in vain. He said noth
ing, and the smile on his face would not
have pleased her. lie only followed fast
behind her till thev came to a little
gritiwy platform at tho head of the stream,
where (lie rocks retreated and the trees
had been swept awnv directly in front of
the last and highest fall, which descended
here at right angles with the rest of the
stream, belli nd a cliff that hid it entirely
from the lower pool.
Grace had stopped far below; she was
heated and tired, and angry too. Ned
Schent k did not mind her petulance, for
he did not care for tier; ho he sat down
on the other end of the log where she
had seated herself, and profaned the del
icate forest odors with a cigar. Dora
stopped a monie.it to take breath and ad
mire the beautin.il rail before them, which
dashed Its white water down the sheer
black rock, and sprinkled with bright
dew the luxuriant ferns and vines that
fringed the banks on either side. Then
sho turned to follow tho very slight indi
cation of a path unwiird. Mr. llorton
whs reauy to follow, but, the moment she
set hor foot on the rock which was her
first step, and extended her hand to
grasn the ledge above, which was to be
climbed, he cried out in a loud, impera
tive voice, "Dora, stop !"
The voice was so decisive, so powerful.
so full of that command which is the
counterpart of obodienco, that, without a
thought of rebellion, Dora stood like a
statue. In an instant Mr. llorton put his
arm about her, swung hor back, and be
gan to strike rapidly and fiercely at some
thing on tho crest or the ledge; and in
another minute ho lifted a dead rattle
snake on bis cane rn 1 Hung it far into
the stream. Dora turned Bick, and sat
down on a stone, shuddering and pale.
Mr. llorton only said, "hxcuse me. Miss
Schonck ; the danger was too near for me
to be less imperative."
Dora shivered. "If you had not, 1
should bo dead now."
'Not at all." laughed Mr. Horton. "I
know those, woods too woll to bo ever
without the proper alleviations for a
snako bite, but 1 never yot used them,
though I have mot and killed a good
many. Kattlesnakes are dull creatures
unless thoy coil to spring, and one blow
with a heavy stick will kill them. Very
few people die of their bites. I have
only heard of one case in these regions,
and that was a child who strayed alone
into the woods."
lie uurnoselv lengthened his explana
tion, that Dora might calm herself. He
did not know how it was still throbbing
through her heart that he had called her
"Dora." Her native generous instinct
demanded somo thanks at least to bo
paid, but she could not sneak yet: Bhe
was shyly glad, yet angry with hoiself for
being glad; and, trembling so with the
sudden nervous shook, she could not for
some minutes speak again.
Mr. llorton stooped down to the
water's edge, and seemed absorbed in
looking at the fall, but his heart beat as
wildly as hers. In that moment of dan
gor ho had discovered what deep hold
Dora had taken of his life. He did not
think of hor unfltnoss to be his wifo, of
her scorn, her wild impulses, her quick
temper. Like many another man in his
case, he thought only of her beauty and
its sweetness, and felt that she must love
him or he wouhbo miserable. Blessed
ordination of thlugs! If men or womon
chose their mates as thoy do thoir shoes
or their books, with deliberate and cool
judgment, this dear, delightful, naughty
old world would come to a sudden end.
It is tho wisdom of Providence that they
never do.
It secmod an hour to both of these as
tonished people, yet It was barely Ave
minutes, before Dora looked at Mr. Hor
tcn and said, "I don't know how to thank
vou. I can acknowledge now It is good
to mind a man-mctlines." Thore was
a soft, arch look in the beautiful dark
eyes that contradicted the quivering lips;
but tho lovely blushing face told what
Dora never meant to tell. Mr. Horton
knelt down on the grass beside her.
"Oh, Dora! I would not be a tyrant,"
he said. And Dora dropped hor head so
low it rested on her shoulder.
Mrs. Horton also declared hor husband
never asked her to marry him, which he
indignantly denied as often as she as
serted it. But, however the union camo
about, it was true for everybody soid so
that no gentler, sweeter, happier min
ister's wifo ever tilled that dillicult posi
tion in tho city of Ludlow, where Mr.
Herton was settled liven Grace Hamil
ton could not find fault with this match,
though she had predicted all sorts of sor
rows from ita ''radical unfitness." But
time had not softened Grace's native
spite, though she controlled It during her
brief visit to tho parsonage. On the uext
Christinas morning a package came by
express,diroctcd to Mrs. llorton. On the
inner cover of the box was written : "For
Doll's room;" and, as the last fold of
tissuo paper was lilted, an elaborate il
luminated motto appeared:
H Com when yna're called,
1k aa you're bid,
Hliut the iliior Kflrr you,
Aud you'll never be vbld."
Her husband was looking over Dora's
shoulder, and they both laughed.
Grace's arrow was pointless for such trust
and happiness.
"I've only changed my mind," said
Dora, "and that is evory woman's priv
eie." "And I hive only ablica'ed. and that
iany king may do," retorted her husband.
"Have you?" Slid his wife, incred
ulously. ...
The truth was that neither knew how
to differ from the other with comfort.
A Depraved Small Boy. A fearful
examplo of criminal precocity is afforded
by a case which recently came before
the Assizo Court of St. Peter, in
Martiuque. A boy named Emillen
Dema, aged 11, was accused of deliber
ately murdering Paul Sarpon, a child of
3 years. The following extracts from
Dema's examination will show the hor
rifying cold-biooodedness with which ho
admitted the commission of the crime.
On being asked how he dispatched his
victim, he answered, "I killed him in
tentionally. I got him to come and
play with mo, He followed me, and we
Idayed together at first, and then I led
din near the edge of a cliff and pushed
him over. I next jumped down after
him, bitbim in the neck, and finished
him off with a stone."
Gorman's snccess in grasping the
Maryland Sentorship is explained.
He nsed to be a good catcher in a base
ball club.
': i
i
I-
i