I'ACLE TEBSC8 3IEFIIETT.
Hie belle of the season at Atlantio City
this rear u Adrienne Veil.
A dark eyed beauty, with one of those
rich, wme-warm complexion that re
mind one of Egyptian Cleopatra, lovely
red lips, and white arms iparUing with
cordons of precious stones aid bands of
dead-gold; and, in the purple light of
the setting sun, as she sat there in Major
Brsbazons barouche, with the foam
fringe of the sea on ono side and the yel
low sand on the other, she was as beauti
ful as a dream.
Nor was she unobserved by the stream
of gay promenaders along the shore,
"It's a foregone conclusion, said old
Dr. Ponnce.
"Shell marry Brabazon, of course,"
said Mrs, Alleyne,
"Shell marry the richest man who
presents himself, no matter who he is,"
observed captain isagon, spiteiuiiy.
"The 13rabazons are a wealthy family,"
remarked Dr. Pounce. ".Not that this
Youncr fellow has much of his own, bnt
his uncle, old Barney Erabazon, is the
richest planter in Louisiana, without
chick or child to inherit his wealth."
"You may depend npon it Miss ail
has taken all this into consideration, re
marked Mrs. Alleyne, with the quiet
malice which one woman often exhibits
when speaking of another. "She's the
moot mercenary creature on the ftco of
clobe!"
Mrs. Alleyne Lad spoken, if vindic
tively, still truly. Adrienne ail, with
her angel face and yoice of low-toned
music, was rather inclined to view man-
kind through the dollar and cent me
dium.
Her face was her fortune. She had
been educated by a scheming mother,
who, with herself pinched and cramped
by perpetual want, bad resolved that Ad
nenne should bring tier radiant beauty
to the best possible market, and thus re
deem the low estate of the family for
tunes. Adricnne's girlhood had not been like
that of other children; she had tasted
poverty, and been trained in tbo belief
that happiness could only be attainod by
means of a golden spell.
"You must marry, and you must mar
ry rich," was the precept which her
mother was continually dinning into her
ears nor was sbo likely to forget the
battle-cry, now that she was on the actual
field of action.
"And I suppose," said Mrs. Allyne,
biting her lips, as she saw her own red
haired, sandy-complex ionod daughter
walking without any escort on the beach,
"Erabazon's fool enough to boliove that
fca really loves him for himself."
Yes; Erabazon was just such a fool.
Ue was madly in love with the beautiful
brunette: he was in paradise of bliss as
long as she sat by his side and smilod on
him with those wonderful eyes of hers,
and he firmly believed that, with the
magnetism of true love, she shared his
every emotion.
They wore engaged that is, subject to
old Barnabas Erabazon approval; for
Adrienne knew that her young suitor
had no patrimony of his own, and she
had no mind to ruk "love in a cottage,"
even for the sako of handsome Allan
Erabazon. '
"lie stands in a father's place to yon,
Allan," she said, "and my standard of
filial dutj is high."
"He cannot help admiring you when
he comes," doclared Allan Erabazon,
who had already written to his uncle
upon tho subject.
Old Earnulias arrived st last a yellow-skinned,
billious-looking man, with
iron-gtay hair, rumpled in a crest on the
top of ins head, and a pair of black eves
that glowed liko coals of fire beneath his
shaggy pent-houses of brows.
His dress was coarse browu tweed; his
boots thick; his hat a flapping Panama,
which half ooncealod his blunt features.
But his linen was exquisitely fine, but
toned with diamond sparks, and on his
finger ho woro an emerald ring which
represented almost the value of a king's
ransom.
"Well?" quoth old Barnabas, fixing an
inquiring eye on his ncphow.
"Undo," criod the young man enthusi
astically, "she is an angel I"
"I'll liave to look at her beforo I mako
up my mind on the subject," said Undo
Barnabas,
Uo was taken to call on Miss Vail, and
like most other gontlomon he "wont
down" at the first sparklo of her liquid,
dark eyes.
"By Jupiter, Allan, you're right!" said
Uncle Barnabas. "Who's the prettiest
girl I ever saw in my life."
Ho the gay season went on. Tho clash
of the vioW, cornets and trombonos, niodo
musical answer to tho diapson of tho
waves; grim old dowagers played cards;
batterod beaux smoked thoir cigars, and
strove to rejuvinate themselves once
moro in the fragrauce of the sea air; pret
ty girls flirted; huudsome cavaliers hold
fans and bouquets, and newspapor cor
respondents invented all sorts of facts
for tho New York and Philadelphia daily
riress. And as time went ly, rumor ol
tained credenco to the effect that Uncle
Barnabas Erabazon was ousting his
ncphow from tho affections of tho beau
lif ill Miss Vail.
1 "There!" said Mrs. Vail, her witch
like countenance assuming a radiant ex
pression, "llere it is in black and
white. An offer of marriage! My dear,
you 11 be the richest woman south of Ala
sou and Dixon's line.
Adrienne, in a lovoly dishabille of
white coshmore and rosopink ribbons,
aat looking at the letter, with something
of dismay upon hor countenance.
"W rite and accept him at onoe," urged
Airs. Vail.
"What (that old man?"
"Old man!" acreamod Mrs. Vail. "The
richest planter in Louisiana! Why,
child, every diamond that he wears is
"But I don't love him," pleaded Adri
enne in a low voico.
"Love bah!" shrieked the old lady.
"What does love amount to? A little
sugar and honey, a few sweetmeats and
starvation for the rest of your life.
I made a love match, and see what a
drudging career mine has been. Adri
enne, don't be a fool! You will never
have another such a chance as this." u
Still Adrienne hesitated.
"Mamma," she said, "I am engsgfd to
Allan, and I love him. And I will be
Li wife." I
"But. child, don't yon sae what ruin
that will bring npon s?" Breathless
cried Mrs. Vail. "Allan hasn't a penny
Ol Ul UWU, BUU It 11Q VUOUIU U HUVN
"Ue can work for a living, mamma
hie other men
"Work work for a living!" snarled
the old lady, displaying a set of yellow
teeth that would nave done credit to a
hyena. "And you live in a flat, and do
up your own laoes in a wash bowl to save
the laundress bill, ana turn your own
silk dresses, and darn your husband's
stockings, to lighten the expenses you,
that have the chance to button your gown
with diamonds, and live in a palace!
"Mamma," cried Adrienne, "what
would life in a palace bo worth without
the man yon love? I won't marry old
Mr. Erabazon, and I will marry Allan, if
1 nave to live m nmcu wiui mm, ur nuo
around the world in a baggage wagon
And this was the end of Miss ail's
mercenary" career. She wrote a reso -
lute little note to Mr. Erabazon, while her
mother indulged in a good, old fashioned
fit of hysterics. The note was worded as
follows:
I like you Terr much, bnt I loved
Allan long before I ever taw you, and 1
don't think I can be happy with any one
. - -l . mm
but Allan: so. if you please, Mr. Braba
zon. I must decline your kind offer. And
pray pray don't be any more angry with
me than you can help. '
Mr. Erabazon read the ntue, tear stained
note,and, folding it grimly up.went across
to the hotel where bis nephew was staving.
"Well. lad. said he, "1 Lave offered
myself myself, mind, the richest man in
. - . . . i T. :i m
Louisiana 10 Auncuue mi.
"Under
Allan started to his feet, taming alter
nately red and pale.
"And she hasrefused me:
The youncr msn was deadly white now,
He scarcely knew what he bad feared or
hoped he only felt the intense relief of
knowing that Adrienne was still true to
him.
My own true love! he muttered be-
ween his teeth "My dark-eyed jewel I
If she had played me false, uncle, I
should have been tempted to commit
suicide!"
Umph nmphr grunted Uncle Bar
ney. ".Love love: now tnese young
people talk! And what may I venture to
ask. do vou expect to live on?
lean work, inclo uarney, lor her
sake said Allen, bravely.
"Very well! said Uncle Barney. ".Let
us go and tell her so. ,
Adrienne was looking lovelier than
over, flushed cheeks, eyes guttering wuu
excitoment and rose-red lips.
How ib this, young woman! de
manded Uncle Barnabas. "Everyone
at Atlantio City told me you were a for
tune seeker. And yet I have offered you
fortune and you have up and down do
clinod it."
"Because I loved Allen better than all
the gold of California." said Adrienne
with drooping eyelashes.
"Come here and kiss me, my dear,
said Undo Barnnbas. "No, you need't
be afraid I shall not mako love to you
any more. I've lived to be sixty years
old without marrying, and I wouldn't
wed the finest woman alive. If you
hadn't refused mo, I should have run off
to the Sandwich Islands to escape matri
mony
Adrienne openod her lovoly eyes very
wide.
"Then why did you ask me?" said
she.
"Simply, my dear, to make certain
that you loved Allan for himself alone,
not becauso he was the nephew of his
rich nnclo. And I'm satisfied now!"
"I do love him." said Adrienne, with
tears in her eves. "And I love you too,
Uncle Barney only in a different sort of
way.
"I'm quito satisfied, my dear," said
Undo Barnabas. "And I shall take it
upon uivsolf to seo that neither of you
perish of want.
So Adrionno Vail "married rich" after
all. ltich. not only in monoy and sugar
plantations, but rich, in love and true
affection. Happy littlo Adrienne!
Proscribed Words.
It is known thot tho lute Mr. Brennt
drew up a list of words and phrases which
ho held to bo indefensible, and which
writers for his journal, tho Evening Pust,
wero enjoined to ovoid. The correctness
of this index eximrouturiut has been
somotiines questioned on this side of tho
Atlantic, but, so far as wo know, it has
not been subjected, until very recently,
to a rigorous scrutiny on the part of any
English critio. That lias now lieon dono,
however, in the Nineteenth Century by
Mr. Fitzedward Hall, who disputes, In
tho most peremptory way, Mr. Bryant's
competence as a judge of good English.
Asido, however, from the inquiry
whether Mr. Bryant's own diction did or
did not sworvo widely from tho accepted
English model, we aro all of us concern
ed to know whether the words and
phrases stigmatized in his well known
schedule aro really open to objection.
On this head the judgment of an Eng
lishman whose opinions are clothed with
somo authority in tho eyes of his fellow
countrymen is of obvious momont when
we consider that Mr. Bryant sup
posed himsolf to be snpplunt-
in if
American tuikiFwuih uy up-
proved English idioms,
"-f -i-.
UI Vljuik 1
Ery
prosenbod. for instance, such words as
as
"afterwards." "aggregate," "average,
"aspirant," commerce," "conclusion,"
'nominee," "notice," "portion," "state,"
"alove." in tho sense of "more than
and some thirty other words, every ono
of which, it is aflirmod by Mr. Hall, was
used by Mr, Maeawloy, together with
such prases as "would seem," "to be
mistaken in," and "try an experiment,"
w hich were specially obnoxious to the
American critic. Going over these
words in detail, Mr. Hall points out that
to displace "telegram" by "dispatch"
would bo to prefer indistinctness to neol
ogy, since dispatch may be of many
sorts, besides telegraphic. lue same
exception may be taktn to Mr, Bryant's
rejection of "nominee iniavoroi "can
didate." for obviously there may be sev
eral candidates before a convention, only
oue of whom can be the nominee. Again,
if such words as "state," "repudiate,"
and "locate." are unendurable, which
by the way. is denied
why M. Hall inquires, should
not "statement," and "repudiation,"
and "location" be dismissed along with
them? And may one, he adds, no longer
"ivpudiate a Sife?" He suggests, fur
ther that "interment," "disinterment,
"misstate" and "unnoticed," would have
to go out with "inter," "interment.
"state" and "notice. The use of In
adverbial "prior to," instead of "be
fore," which Mr. Bryant condemned, is
said to be supported by respectable au
thority in England; and the phrase "we
are mistaken in, is pronounced lar bel
ter than the substitute "we mistake in.
As to the demurrer to "conclusion," in
the sense of "close, this, it u averred,
implies a restriction of "conclude" to
the sense of "infer." Passing to other
items in Mr. Bryant list, Mr. Hall as
serts that "quite large," unqualified by
a negative, is in many contexts goou
i " " v e
17 i:.,U l..'!. mnt. an rr.H..;in u
"not quite large enough" is manifestly
correct in any collocation of words,
J . . . ....
Another interdicted adjective, "ma'
terial." is shown to be not only proper,
bnt indispensable, in such a phrase as
'a mate rial difference. A to Air.
Err ant's "preference for "seems.
over "would seem." embodied in one
1 of his prohibitory mandates, this, Mr,
Hall thinks, evinces "an almost wcredit-
able contempt for the sanction of the
best English writers;" and be adds that
"a man must be dreaming" who does dot
at once feel the difference between
seems" and "would seem. Indeed,
manr ol the wows lorouiaen oy Air,
wr
Bryant are adjudged by this critic to be
far more legitimate than the title of his
best known poem. "Synopsis is right,
and so is "autopsy, but "ruanatop&is
is declared just as indefensible a forma
tion a "telWram " which Mr. Bryant
would not tolerate in his newspaper,
The title of the poem, we are told,
should have been "Tbanatopia, or
"Thaaatopsy."
We haTe said that Mr. Bryant s posi
five assertions as to correct ui-ge are not
to be overruled merely because other so
lecisms to which he was himself addicted
may have escaped recuse at m own
hands. Another part of Mr. Hall's crit
icisms seems decidedly more pertinent.
It may, perhaps, be fairly questioned
hether Mr. Bryant was jn-4ined m
putting forth his prohibitory Us:,
hen we find that his own wrung
of a subsequent date were pretty thickly
strown with the forbidden words and
phrases. Mr. Hall shows that a letter
written during the poet's last visit to
Europe would, under the litter's own
rules, have been entirely inadmissible to
the columns of the .cenng rent, in
one short paragraph, for instance, we
find such words and idioms as "tele
trram." "aeirreeate" "materially." "re-
alized." " repudiate,"
"authoresses,
poetess, "conclusion, i
average, "vi-
cinity," "afterwards," "it is stated,"
are mistaken in. "experiments nave
been tried." and "would seem." And it
is certainly curious, when wo remember
that "oration was one of tho words pro
hibited, to observe that as lately as 1873
Mr. Bryant brought out a volume of his
own composition entitled "Urations and
Address. In the same book we find
"parties" in the sense of "persons," tho
substantiative "progress, tho verb
state." "spent" in the sense of "passed."
"toriff" with the meaning of "rate," also
"telecram" and "party record." It is
suggested that the reviewer oi the
Eveninn Post would have been in an
awkward quandary had he boen asked to
make this volume tiie suoject oi a nonce,
Mr. Hall regards wbut ho terms Mr,
Bryant's "fantastic and parcel-learned
affectation" of purity of speech as morely
a salient exhibition of the misplaced pre
cisionism which he has observed in many
educated Americans. Ho attributes
their frequent and sometimes ludicrous
failures in the effort to employ immacu
late English to ignorance, or at least
misappropriation of thoso precedents of
goou usage oy wnicu iugnsuuieu uru
content to abide. Dwelling in a conimu
nitv in which there is a constant ten
dency to divergence from English stand'
ards, the would-be purists among us are
in the habit of deferring witli too abso
lute submission to the decision of sun-
brv English and Sootch solf-appointed
arbiters touching what is and what is not
good English. These professed experts
in idiom, whoso writings Americans are
nut to accept as the utterances of pro
found philologists. Mr. Hall dooms for
the most part shallow pretenders and
criticasters, whoso brazen self-assertion
is their main qualification for the role of
Aristarchns,
Milk as Food.
Unadulterated, undiluted, unskimmed
and properly treated milk, taken from a
healthy cow in a good condition, ond
produced by the consumption of healthy
and nutritious grasses and other kinds of
of food, contains within itsolf, in propor
proportions, all the eloments nocossary
to Bustaiu human lifo through a consid
erable period of time, bcareely any
othor single article of food will do this.
When we eat broad and drink milk we
eat bread, butter and choose and drink
water all of thorn in the best combina
nation and condition to nourish the hu
man system. All tilings considered good
milk is the cheapest kind of food we have
for three pints of it, weighing Z pounds
and costing S) cents, contain as much nu
triment as one pound of beef, which
costs 18 cents. There is no loss in cook
ing milk, as thcro is in bcof , and there
is no bono in it that cannot be eaten; it
is simple, palatable, nutritious, health
ful, cheap and always reodv for use, with
iui. cnean anu always reouv lor use, wiia
tvitlmtifr nrnnnrnnnn Tina ia frt Da V I
r'"' '. l,V o n .7 ;I.:Ti.
tuat, euemicaiiy, pouuu m rail
tho equivalent of one pound of beef in
flesh -forming or nitrogenous constituents
and 3.17 pounds of milk is the equiva
lent of one pound of beef in heat-producing
elemonts or carbo-hydrates. We
must thereforo assume, from the data
offered, that the relative values of beef
and milk as human food are as 3'i to
121,, or as (in round numbers) 1 to V,.
If milk is 8 cents per quart, then it is
the equal in food value to beef at V1V,
cents per pound; and vice versa, when
beef is at 2o cents per pound, tben milk
should be IU cts. per quart, calculated on
its food value. e thus see that, at any eoQ pft8aion8, thronged its ghastly
ruling prices, milk is certainly one of 4, littered ite blood
the cheapest, if not the cheapest, food on other
that. can be furnished
to the family,
while all experience
healthy qualities.
is in favor of its
When you see an article in a newspa
per headed "The Political Outlook,"
look at the bottom line, and if it say
. l- . .. 1
sold by all druggists, don't read it.
There is such an article going the round
which is the advertisement of a patent
medicine,
la ted to decei
Don't read a political
article unless
in tha bottle.
owner a name is Diown
.a
v
Clerks.
TTow difficult it is to distinguish them
from proprietors until you are used to
them! Then it is easy. Proprietors wear
clothes that clerk wouldn't be seen
wMrinff to shift ashea in.
At the start clerks always speak of
themselves as "salesmen." They have a
faint idea that the latter is a dictionary
word and means something.
The kinir clerk is the "floor-walker.
He's a drum major without bearskin cap
or baton, and nils an important position
i - -- i.-
in ID BIDflraDI BlIBBer. 1 WI uuuuuiuj
always feel it knees quake beforo hi
awful presence, until he says, Show
1.1 1.1 M 1,AM 1... an,1 it is nmvo.1
these ladies them hose," and it is proved
that he is mortal.
The active clerk shows all the good
in his department, talks a steady stream
and wears a customer out. lie makes
few sales and does not stay long in
place.
The listless clerk, with drooping eyes
and pale necktie, drops the goods on the
counter in a don t-care-a-uve sort o( a
way. wearied by the exertion, and the
customer trades with him because ho is
so refreshingly lazy.
The average clerk comes up town in
the morning the very ideal of spick-span
newness, lie it fresh every day, his
collar and shirt front are just from the
smoothing iron, his clothes are molded
to his form and bis hair looks as if
his good, kind grandmother had slicked
it down with bear grease, lie is
daisv.
The poorly dressed clerk: There are no
facts in regard to this nonentity.
The "masher as a clerk: He is en
(raged because of his superlative attrac
tions to silly women, who call on' him
everyday and buy some little knick
knack in order to bask in the sunshine
of his radiant and charming smile,
A genul clerk, a man who is too good
for his position and a positive addition
to a well-rcgalated establishment. One
clerk of this sort is worth a whole store
fall of average clerks. He sells goods
before you know yon have bought them
The genuine bnsmess man sometimes
twriss life as a clerk, but he pushes out
of the position in an amazing hurry,
The ladv clerk: bo would be so un-
gallant as to say she is not interesting?
She is. Gentlemen always like to trade
at the counter where she presides, and
she is usually assigned to a department
where thev are sure to como on little
errands. Ladies, on the contrary, do
not like to purchase of her, and it is
noticeable tliat she ia seldom in the dress
goods department
There are a great many varieties of
clerks drug clerks, grocory clerks, and
ten thousand others. They are the orna
mental and somewhat useful mile-post
on the highway of business. Ihey seem
to be a necessity, but why they should
carry the world in its entirety on their
shoulders, and superintend the progress
of tho planets in their orbits, is a mys
terp. But they all do it; or, at least,
think they do. New Haven Register.
Sedan In IS SO.
Sedan, as a battlefield, may be said to
be alieadv obliterated. The wide region
over which the straggle raged still re
mains, but already in these few years
have disappeared almost all traces of the
tragedy of which it was the theater. The
plow has passed over the countless
gioves whose monnds studded the
strangoly diversified terrain from Ba-
zeilles tor lenoux, xrom uivonno to no-
i r i i
ing. The visitor to oeuan can una now
no guide' to the battlefield. Tho English
resident who for the first year or two
after the battle offered himself in that
capacity has abandoned the rolo for lack
of employment, and concentrates him
self on his original avocation. I have
spoken of the visitors to Sedan, but, in
deed, thore are now no visitors. "They
camo very thick for a year or two after
the battle," so testifies the hotel waiter,
but now we have not once in six months
a stranger who desires to seo tho field of
battle."
Sedan itself is fast altering so as
scarcely to be rocognized by one familiar
with it during the .war time. Its forti
fications are undergoing demolition, and
Sedan is now in name, as in effect it had
been ever since the introduction of rifled
artillery, an open town. auban s
bastions and curtains wero very massive,
and thoir wrought stone faces and ce
mented backings yield reluctantly; but
thev are gradually being effaced, and Se
dan is opening its lungs and stretching
itself beyond tho trammels that were
wont toinolose it. Ditches are being
filled up, and tho boulevards are being
luid out on their site. As one enters
from the railway station through the
suburb of Toroy, formerly inclosed
within the line of circunivallation, he
passes stately side streets lined with fine
now buildings. Where the German sol
diers used to fish in the stagnant moats
for chassepots, cuirasses and other
spoils of war, solid earth has taken the
placo of water, and long stretches of
black woolen cloths are now lying on the
snoce where once were ranged, row up
on row, the hundreds of field guns that
he vanqished had surrendered to tiie vac-
tors. The gate from under whose arch
way the bearer of the flag of truce
emerged from the distracted city is gone
...... !. ;
identified. In the little place inside tue
r . . J .. . - . ....
. rf , over tha Menge Turenno. ,n his
coat of verdigris, still stands in that un
comfortable attitude on the cannon balls;
but the nickaxe of the destroyer is laid
at the foundation of the citadel in which
the great general was born. There is a
new landlord in the Hotel Croix d'Or, a
man who nonchalantly tells you that the
war was before bis timo here, and he
takes ni interest in anything concerning
it, The streets swarm with French sol
diers: but soldiers smart, natty and con
sequential, in Terr different case from
the broken miserables who, wolfish with
hunger, distracted with horror, mad with
teniber day when De Wimpfcn sullenly
put his hand to the articles 01 capuuia'
tion.
"But you can t get home if the wind 1
dead against us, can your inauireu uio
nearest tunanfffr. "(Jh. ves. replied
. ih vai " van Oil
the Nantucket skipper. "Oh. yes. I had
the boat made with two sides, so that
rhen she couldn't sail on one tack she
I oould on the other. It is the only boat
in these waters that is built that way.
And the passenger was reassured and the
I Clara got in on time.
THE BITTERTILLE HYSTERT.
"Wife, come here, quickly and see if
wnM Mn .1,- ... .. . . ...
jvu w wo uiiu?r Willi
Nancy Perkins," exclaimed John Ponsby
wuo uaa oeeu gazing curiously lor sey
era! seconds through a window that
overlooked the front yard of hi next
neighbor.
"Sell, I never!" ejaculated Mrs
Ponsby, upon seeing the familiar figure
of Miss Nancy Perkins, a maiden of forty
. .1 . . -. 1 . -
or tuerenoouia, iianuing npon her own
doorstep, dressed in an old gray ulster,
which was partly concealed by a faded
woolen shawl, and her well-known sun
bonnet drooping like a mask over her
face. She wo swaying around and
bending forward and backward.
though convulsed by some powerful
emotion
"Is she laughing or crying, or what in
mercy ia tho matter with her? I'd go
rigut over ana see. out sue such aqueer
reserved sort of a body; like as not she'd
tell you to mind your own business. Sho
is always more civel to you, John, won't
you go
"Not I, indeed! Just look there! She
has certainly gone crazy, for see, she is
hitting her head against the front door.
Has Peter spoken to her since he came
home.'
"Not that I know of; but John, if ho
is your brother, lie hasn t a spark of man
hood if he doesn't marry Miss Nancy
J "
"jiut she is rather old now.
"So is he ten years the older,
"Well, they would have married
twenty years ago if it had not been for
your senseless chatter, and that of a few
others of your kind, telling her he went
twice a week to see Squire Aesbit
daughter, when he was only posting the
old gentleman books doing night
work to increase bis earnings."
"ow, John, don t go raking over the
past! I am sorry enough, and told him
about it last night; but , you know
didn't find out the truth until he had
gone to California. Dear me! to think
that's twenty years ago, and now he's
come back well off! Bless my soul!
John, now I know what's the matter with
Nancy; she is dong that to attract
Peter's attention."
"Oh, no! It's only a littlo after six.
and I don't think he's up yet."
"1 11 warrant be up and watching her
from his window.
"Well, it doesn't seem to me that she
wonld rig up in that kind of a style and
make such a fool of herself. I think a
girl, no matter how old she is, will try
to look respectable and act decently if
she wonts to gain an honest man s heart.
"But don't vou see that she has the
very old shawl on she used to go sleigh
riding with him?"
'Well she is making a pretty show of
herself to others as well, for see that
crowd of boys climbing on the fence, and
yonder goes a cloud of women, some of
them buII in nightcaps.
"Yes. there s Mrs. 1 risbee, and Airs.
Snyder and Sallie Yeomans, and Aunt
Betsy Ely. I'll just run out and see
what thev think of such antics." And
uneasy but good natured gossip was
gone to join a crowd of her kindred
spirits hurry toward Miss Nancy's gate.
In a few minutes nearly the entire pop
ulation of the village had gathered
around the neatly-kept door yard where
the odd looking figure was swoymg, now
gently, then vehemently, and again
standing motionless, but never glancing
around, and seemingly unconscious of
the curious gaze of the villagers.
Miss Nancy had lived loug alone, tak
ing no interest in tue gossip ana tea
drinking of the neighborhood, devoting
her leisure time to birds and flowers,
while she earned her living by fancy
knitting, sewing and embroidery, which
she did for a firm in Boston.
Her well known habits of seclusion
made the fast swelling crowd at the gate
dislike to intrude further upon her while
she seemed convulsed with such parox-
ysnis 01 gnei or mirui, wnicn 11 was
they could not tell. Curiosity had
reached a degreo that was absolutely
painful, when Tom Jones, the bad boy
of the village, sang out
"1 11 bet a nickel I can go up and hug
the old girl, and she won't slap my face
nuther.'
Tom was a reckless, mischievous lad
of sixteen, and he set attride the fence,
holding a five cent piece between his
soiled thumb and forefinger, eagerly
scanning the faces of his companions, to
see if any one of them was willing to
cover his stake.
"I dare you to do it, said one, pro
ducing a similar coin.
Here. Bill Kerr, you hold them, it s
all I've got or I'd make it dollars instead
of cents, said Tom, as he vaulted over
tho fence.
Sure enough, the audacious yonng
rascal mounted the steps and placed one
arm tenderly around the swaying figure.
To the utter amazement of the giggling
crowd, she did not repulse him, but
stood motionless, with his arm encircling
her lank shoulder.
Now the old bachelor, Peter Ponsby,
had been watching the curious specta
cle, as his sister-in-law suspected, and
when he saw the audacity of the young
vagabond, Tom Jones, he dashed down
stairs without his hat, elbowed his way
through the crowd, his round face
Eurple with rage, and his bare, bald
ead shining. With as much alacrity
as Peter could boast ho leaped the low
fence, disdaining the little wicket gate,
and reached the interesting pair with
three long strides. With his open palm
he struck Tom a stinging blow on the
ear that sent the yonng rascal half way
across the yard. At this critical mo
ment who should open the door but
Miss Nancy herself, in a neat morning
wrapper, with an expression of surprise
on her still handsome face. The look
of horror with which the old bachelor
regarded first her and then her double
was ludicrous in the extreme.
Good morning, Mr. Ponsby!" she
said, with dignity. Then noticing the
queer looking figure that confronted her,
she raised both hands in surprise, "My
sunbonnet!" she exclaimed, "Who has
dared to put it on the top of my olean
der?" And with deft fingers she untied
the fastenings of the three garments and
threw them aside, disclosing to view a
beautiful oleander tree exactly her own
height. "Ah, Tom Jones this has been
your work," she said espying that crest
lallen individual Blowly picking himself
tin mm & htvl nf fnhna
The minarbntr of shrill laughter at tne
era (a rtl)a.l Miu NtnPv'a Attention tO
the fact that the villagers had called
npon her in Kvi. ir. .. .
2;.damUe,but.LeSCiS
log them about to disperse .he " ."
f parting thrust: "I am S
been the innocent cauae.li0
worT
added, without looking at him .
welcome back to ffitterVilta bnt di,?
know the town a weU 1 1 Z Jon
would not share it idle curiosity - ' 700
Tt was not curiosity that brought m.
herC stammered the old UchZfJ
But Tom Jones stepped forwsrd hohl
ing hu brimless hat with both &
while he made his best bow.
"Look here, Miss Nancy, it ,
that put that jobuponyer.
mean no harm. I jest wanted a lark r
seen that funny lookin thing ,ia(riA
around every time the wind blowed 1
knowed what it was, for I seen ,'0I1
wrappin' it up lost night, and cotj?
thinks I to myself, all it needs is a b
neiromauea woman out n it: and .
good luck or bad luck would have it I
spotted your'n a hangin' on the bad
poroh. So I jest hoPd over about u
hour ago, got it, and chucked it on C
the shawl, jest for a lark. Then sein
how well it took, thinkin" I
a little spec, I bet my last nickle that I
could come up and hug yer, meanin' the
bush, beggin' yer pardon. Sam Dunlin
he took me up, and when I was
squeezin it gentle like, so's not to press
it out o' shape, Mr. Ponsby he come up
and knocked me down for my impn.
dence as a gentleman should."
During this recital Miss Nancy's coun
tenance changed considerably, and at iU
conclusion a rare smile broke over her
thin lips.
"Well, Tom," said she, "I am much
obliged to you for your honesty if fn.
nothing else. I know it must Iisva M.
ed very odd, but it was dark when I cov
ered it first with the cloak, then fearing
the top leaves might be exposed, I threw
the shawl over as an extra protection. I
thought if it was well wrapped up I
could risk it outside, for it has
heavy for me to lift it in and out alone."
There was a plaintive dropping of her
voice on the last word, and she glanced
up shyly at Peter Ponsby. and held out
ono slim, labor-stained hand.
"As for you, sir," she said. "I thank
you for your courtesy, and wish yon t
very good morning."
But when Peter Ponsby held in his
two big, strong ones the little hands that
he hod coveted so many years, the hand
that had repelled and yet held him, and
was true to him by withholding itself
from any other, he would not let it go.
"Uh, Aanl he said in a broken voice.
'Let me keep this now and forever. I
will lift the oleander and all your other
burdens. I know now our estrangement
was caused by idle gossip. We were not
to blame. Wo have wasted twenty yesit
of the better part of our lives; shall ve
throw away the balance?"
Miss Nancy stood with dowcast eyes
and flushing cheeks, nntil a low whistle
called her attention 'to the gaping mouth
and quizzical eyes of Tom Jones.
"Tom," she said, suddenly, "did yon
get your stakes?"
"No, by thunder. That sneakin' Bill
Kerr has gone off with both tickets."
And taking the hint, Tom was out of
sight in a few seconds.
But, before hunting up the miscreant,
he went from house to house in the vil
lage, announcing the fact that he had
"loft tho old boy and gal in a confidence
confab."
The result of that confidence was made
known four weeks from that day. when s
bride and groom, no longer in the hey.
dey of youth, stood up in the village
church, and repeated the vows they had
lighted and broken twenty years ueiore.
Scarcely Half Married.
m . -1 - ..An n fv man vk
lue rouiauco ui a jjwi jvuuj u. -
was only partially married in Lyons, is
. , . ' 1 U lin.
told oy a rrencu jourmu. iio
trothed to a young Frenchwoman, whose
o give her the right to be called an
heiress. The contract hod been signed
at
the family lawyer s olhce.tlio mni
d been published in tho church, and
ha
on
the
rin witli t.hftir friends and
relations, met at the Mario. The Mayo
asks the bride and bridegroom the fatal
questions: "Do you take so-and-so or
wife?" "Do you take so-and-so for
husband?" Both answer "les. 1M
iUm. mnrrlPll &QH
Aiayor pronouuees mew .......
offers his congratulations. ThehuabaM
41. nra ia ml DOW
anu wuo o iucj - .
proceed to sign the register, W
so do their friends; the juy -
just about to sign when
gram is put into nis nau,
P .. . .1-. ,1 i,a oirpadv been
ing that me ormegiuuiu ,
married in a foreign country, and w
neediui papers 10 pruvo mo ,
.v .f rriT rvnr lipsitates. an
ineir way. xucu.iv" , .
in afortnignt irom mat - . 1
nothing more is heard from the sender 01
the
telegram, ana, assu .-
been
sent oy some bnt
olent
; person, the Mayor "v ,j.
,lv married couple that he is resu,
alrea
to sign the register. But the lady
changed her mind. She decl res
Bhe
believes the Btory 01 w.
sends
back her presenw, "". n .
Mayor
Mayor on no accouns -e- .
bridegroom, on the other an
groom, on the ower u"";,u &(
V sign. The Mayor consul the
him
Juge-
ae-pnix, wno auv." - -
what
the girl tens mm. ,tf 1
nd at mesent the heiress and t
vice,
f... 1 I
admirer are esirang.
He cracefully accepted: 1
you,
upon
gontlcmen " sa.d I m
entering the pnsuu, . f
has sought mo, and now
r .flairs really "
place
place.
LJlUUtj XlX J w " . .a
manded all my time and atten
and I
may truly say -"'.,,
tion
to fill this position was.- -
surprise. Had 1 consul -v .,
interests, I ehonld have Pf"
declined to serve, out htf
hands
of my inenas,
but to submit." And be
course
mitted
An ingeniou. pnaonex in a
iail contrived to make a wen
oroom
I DrOOm
to him
1