TWO DAYS.
Blytbe wiads that sloe lonS tne Iea
"Whit clouds in airy floeces curl'd,
Freh reaches of a sapphire sea,
A sound of laughter through the world. .
A pair of lovers in a lane, ,
A coy coquetting with a ring, t
A gleam of sun. A scud of rain.
A day in spring.
Rough blasts that roar across the wold,
Chill mists on mountain summits spread,
Black branches naked to the cold.
The river frozen in its bed.
A gray head either side the fire,
Dim eyes that watch each crackling eplin
, tcr,
A snowy roof. A snowy spire.
A day in winter.
MISS TRAVER3.
"A hat of last year's fashion I"
"But her eyes were like grey stars."
"And her manner dreadfully quick and
decided."
"Bright and sparkling I should call
it."
"My dear Richard, you are really ab
surd! The girl is a hospital nurse, and
what woman with any refinement or
delicacy would take up such a profes
sion as that? It shows she can't be
nice."
"Ladies do such things nowadays"
less defiantly.
"Now, you know you are only saying
so because she's pretty. Of course ladies
do queer things nowadays, but that
doesn't excuse unwomanly feeling. Be
sides, she's only a solicitor's daughter. I
shan't risk mamma to call."
"But don't you think common civil
ity" "No, I don't. She's only staying at
the rectory, and we're not forced to call
on every one's friends. Beside, Cap
tain Hardwicke is expected home, and it
would make it awkward. What would
one of Lord Belmont's people say if we
asked them to meet a 'girl like Miss
Travers?"
"All the same, she's as pretty and
ladylike as any one I ever met in these
parts."
"Very likely, but she's not in our set.
Now, Richard, if you say any more I shall
begin to think you're falling in love with,
her, if the idea is not too absurd."
But Richard had closed the drawing
room door upon his 8ix sisters' languid
voices, and was halfway across the wide
lawn with its brilliant parterres of sum
mer flowers. Poor Richard Allerdyce!
only son of the richest banker in Chellow
dean, people of good family, but with
just that uncertainty of social position
which made them afraid of overstepping
any boundaries, rather gratified at being
on intimate terms with Lord Belmont and
the Hardwickes, he was of divided mind
this summer afternoon. He had been
greatly taken by that sweet face and
slight figure in the rectory pew last Suu
day ; was sensible of a thrill of more than
civil interest when he met their owner
walking home with the good old rector
after service, and was introduced to
"31iss Travers," while the eyes, "like
grey stars," were suddenly raised to his;
and he had ever since spent a larger por
tion of his time than was strictly needful
in walking past the rectory's rose-covered
garden gate. But, on the other side,
his sisters words had certainly struck
home.
Brought up, as all the Allerdyce3 were,
like hot-house plants, sheltered from every
breath of frosty air, it was not strange
that Richard at five and twenty, though
a big, burly enough young Englishman
to look at, was but little of a man in mind
or heart. Knowledge of the world had
been carefully kept from him, as from his
sisters, lest they should learn evil; but
their very ignorance had cost them the
loss of power to choose between evil and
good, and had given them weak preju
dices and conceited opinionativeness, in
stead of a mind able to discern and pre
fer the right.
Richard's handsome face was overcast
as he swung out of the lodge gates, and
down the road. Miss Travers a hospital
nurse! certainly it was a shock. Not
only did it seem to him unwomanly for a
woman to work at all, but infinitely more
30 to do menial work. And then the
awful thought of what his mother and
sisters would say, were they asked to re
ceive' a hospital nurse as his future wife!
For it had gone as far as that in Rich
ard's susceptible mind, even in these
three short days. All at once his thoughts
broke off as Miss Travers herself, sweet
and bright as ever, in her black dress,
came out from the rectory gate, the
great rectory mastiff pacing behind her.
Now Richard's own collie was at his
master's heels, and there was a border
feud of long standing between those two
faithful followers. There was an angry
growl, a heavy rush, a thud, and then a
brown body and a black rolled together
in the dust in a manner sugges'.ive of ?.
do's funeral on one side or the other.
Richard, who was actually staggered by
the suddenness of it all. could not for a
moment regain his senses ; and when he
did, it was to find Miss Travers, both
white hands locked in the hair of Rollo's
shaggy neck, pulling him from his foe
with all her strength, and calling to "Mr.
Allerdyce" to "take hold of his dog and
pull him off."
She was being whirled round in the
cloud of dust by the frantic waltzers be
fore Richard could quite settle where to
"take hold, but that task was performed
for him by a gentleman in tweed knick
erbockers, who started out of the "White
Hart," a few yards away, and run to the
escue. Between Miss Travers and him
self the combatants were separated, each
carrying away a few fragments of the
other's person; and Miss Travers, flushed,
panting, covered with dust, but looking
lovelier than Richard had ever seen
woman look before, sank back against
the rectory wall and tried to laugh. The
stranger lifted his hat, looking straight
at her with a pair of piercing brown
eyes.
1 "Excuse me, Miss Travers !" he said,
in rather an off hand manner, "but that
was about as rash a thing as any one
could possibly do. The dogs might both
have turned on you and bitten you
badly."
"Thank you, Captain Hardwicke, I
had not the least fear," was her only re
sponse, given with a little haughtiness ;
and the gentleman, with a nod to Rich
ard, turned and strode away as rapidly
as he had come.
"Miss Travers ! are you hurt !" Richard
was able to articulate at last. 4 'You
ever should have done a thing like that;
Hardwicke was right; it was awfully
rash! By the way, you know Hard
wicke I"
"No, I'm not hurt a bit." The won
derful grey eyes were dancing with fun
now. "Don't scold me, please; I know
it was a silly thing to do, but I didn't
stop to think. Pray don't look so hor
rified!" "But if you had been bitten!" ,
"Well, I wasn't." And her face dim
pled with a friendly smile at his shocked
look.
"But you know Hardwicke?" he per
sisted, unable to get over his surprise in
that quarter.
"Oh, yes." Her face grew cold ihv
stantly. "Captain Harwickewas in hos
pital with an accident some months ago-
my hospital. I had charge of him
there, that's all. And she pulled a rose
so sharply from the hedge, that it fell to
pieces in her hands.
'Look there V she laughed, showering
the petals on the ground before her; "let
us cover over the battle-field with flow
ers," and she laughed again. .
Richard went home more thoughtful
than ever. Surely this women was a
novel thing in his experience of men and
manners. She acted with the skill and
daring of a man; and yet he would
rather not think what his sisters' faces
would be like had they but seen it ! Was
it actually lady-likef or should she not
rather have fled from the scene of con
flict, or even had screamed and fainted?
Nearly three weeks had passed since
the dog episode, and Richard's courage
still wavered in the balance. He had
grown to know Miss Travers well in those
three weeks, and to; know her well was
but to love her better. There was never
a woman so sweet, so clever, so sympa
thetic, so beautiful he was certain of
that no woman he more ardently longed
to have for his own; and yet and yet!:
That terrible strength of character, that
profession, that lack of pedigree! Only
last night, in the moonlight rectory gar
den, he had almost flung all prudence to
the winds, she had been so dangerously,.
fatally sweet (she Avas always especially
kind to him), but he reeled back from
the gulf just in time when she mentioned
casually, without a change of voice or
countenance, that she had an uncle who
waa a chemist in Rochester. "A chem
ist! Shades of my ancestors, protect
me!" Richard recoiled again as he
thought of it, and fancied Hardwicke's
look if he could have heard her. For
Captain Hardwicke was still at the
"White Hart," and perhaps his presence,
and the atmosfhere o exalted society
about him, had been one of Richard's re
straining though unconscious influences.
Now, as he slowly worked his way up the
steepest hill in the neighborhood, on his
new tricycle, he was pondering the old
question in his mind. Could he take the
fatal plunge, or was it too costly ?
A trim graceful figure on the road
before him, as at last he gained the sum
mit, drove all else to the four winds ;
and in an instant he had overtaken the
object of his cogitations, and sprung to
the ground beside her.
"Mr. Allerdyce!" she said, turning
with her own bright look to shake hands ;
how like a ghost you stole upon me!
Oh, I see, it was on a tricycle, and what
a beauty! Do let me look at it." And
Richard, nothing loth, began to display
his new toy a perfect thing in build and
finish the Allerdyces' possessions always
were the most perfect of their kind.
He began to explain it to her, forget-
ing all about the chemist uncle, but she
interruptedhim.
"Yes, I know all about them, thanks,
I see, it is a regular bit of perfection. I
should so like to try it; may I?"
Once more Richard was dumb with
Surprise. A lady on a tricycle was as yet
an unheard-of thing in rustio Chellow
dean, and it seemed an outrageous idea
to him.
"I really don't think you could," he
faltered. "My sisters never have done
such a thing."
"Your sisters? oh, perhaps not," with
a smile at the idea. "But I am quite
used to tricycles. I ride one whenever I
can get a chance."
Further blow for Richard; but there
was no knowing how to refuse her, and
he stood aside. She took her place like
one who was thoroughly used to tricycles,
and he could not but admit she adorned
her position. -
"What a delicious hill to run down!"
she said, with a happy little laugh, as
she placed her dainty little feet on the
treadles. 4 'I really must try it. "
"Pray, don't attempt it!" was Rich
ard's horrified remonstrance, for the hill
stretched down even more abruptly than
on the side he had ascended, and near
the bottom there was a sudden sharp
turn, with the railway line running just
below the nastiest bit of road for miles
around. Perhaps even Agatha Travers
would have hesitated to hazard it, had
it not been for the consternation in Rich
ard's face.
" Mr. Allerdyce, you are faint-hearted,"
she said, gaily, as she started on her
downward course a little more rapidly
than she had at first intended, but
Richard's new tricycle ran smoothly.
His heart wag in his mouthr as the coun
try folk say, as she began to- glide rapid
ly off. She turned her head and flashed
back a merry defiance. "My uncle, the
chemist at Rochester, used to say"
Then the wicked sparkle faded! sudden
ly, and she called quick and clear, "Can
you stop me, please? The brake is stiff;
can't make it work; it's, running
away."
Poor Richard of the faint heart! it
seemed to die within him. The next
second he had darted forward, but it was
just one second too late. The check she
had been able to put on the heavy ma
chine with the treadles ceased to keep it
back, and faster and. faster it tore down
the; perilous road.
Ia all his life to come, Richard will
never know any minute so long as that
next, while the Straight, slight figure
flying-through space seemed to swim be
fore his eyes, and his knees knocked to
gether as he stood.
On oo faster, faster! she managed
somehow to cling to the steering handle,
and; kept the machine in the middle of
the-road.; but the mad pace grew more
desperate. She could never turni that
fatal corner by the railway embankment ;
over it she must go. . And it was just
then that Richard and she both together
saw the- puff of snow-white smoke from
the hillside, that told them that the-even,
ing, express was out of the tunnel, and
j thundering down that very bit of Ene.
It all flashed over Agatha in one rush :
Would the fall kill her, or would it be
the train? It must be onex or tne' other ;
the-next second or two would settle that;
and a swift prayer was on her lips, but
what she never quite knew; for even as
she breathed it, some one or something
in. brown tweed knickerbockers hurled
itself over the roadside stile before her,
a stout stick darted into the flying wheel,
and with one quick swerve the tricycle
crashed into the ditch, and lay there, a
confused mass of spinning spokes and
mutilated tires, while Agatha flew out
from its midst like a ball, and alighted
on a grassy bank a yard or ' two away ;
and the express rushed past with a wild
yell on the line just below, and vanished
round a sharp curve that matched the
road above it.
Then, and then alone, did Richard's
legs regain their power of motion ; and
he set off as fast as they could carry him
to where the little black figure lay.
Somehow it took longer to run down
that hill than the last descent would
have led one to think ; for when Richard,
panting and breathless, reached the scene
of the accident, the little black figure, very
much out of its usual trim neatness, was
seated on the grassy tangle that -broke
her fall, busily binding up with her own
small handkerchief a deep gash in the
nana ot tne knickerbockerea person
who knelt at ner side, it was a very
pale face that looked up at Richard's,
with, the, sort of awe that any human
creature must wear who has just been
face to face with death; but her great
grey eyes had a wonderful shining light
in them.
44 The poor tricycle !", she said ; "I am
so sorry. Is it very badly hurt?" And,
in the fervor of his relief and gladness,
Richard could find words for nothing
but
"Bother the tricycle!" '
He was ready enough to say some
thing, however, presently, when he found
himself obliged to stop and see its re
mains decently cared for, while Captain
Hardwicke took charge of Miss Travers'
return to the rectory. She said she was
none the worse for her fall, but perhaps
she wa3 ' a little shaken ; but Captain
Hardwicke kin Jly offered her his arm,
and she took it. Richard hurried after
them before long, his whole heart aglow.
That awful minute thi3 afternoon had
taught him that life without Agatha
Travers would seem a poor and worth
less thing, were she a factory-girl. He
hurried after them, therefore, and camo
in sight of the rectory gate as two hands,
one very neatly bandaged, unclasped'
over it, and a small dark head raised it
self from a brown tweed shoulder, where
it seemed to have been resting.
"Good gracious!" "was all Richard
could utter, as Agatha vanished, and
Captain Hardwicke, looking odiously ra
diant, sauntered toward him.
"Ah, Allerdyce, old fellow, caught us,
have you? Then I may as well tell you
all my tremendous good luck at once,
and take your congratulations. Perhaps
you've heard how Miss Travers' nursing
saved my life last year, and when of
course I fell in love with her, as who
wouldn't? She would have it, it was
only gratitude, and refused to let me
make what she called a misalliance, just
because there's that brute of a title com
ing to me some day. I told her I thought
all that rubbish was obsolete, and of
fered to drop the title altogether if she
liked; but nothing would do, and we
parted rather out of temper. I heard she
was cfbwn here, and ran down to see my
uncle, hoping he would talk her over,
but I began to think it was no use. And,
do you know, I was frantically jealous of
you, old fellow ! I saw she liked you,
and I almost believe you could have cut
me out, early in the day, if you'd had'
the pluck tc try, she was. so set against
me. But to-day has made it all right,
and she thinks I've saved her life this
time, so we're quits. Well,, old man. am
I not the luckiest man alive?"
"But but " stammered the wretchea
Richard, "surely her tamilyrT
"She's an orphan'. Oh, I see what you
mean; she told-me she had been shock
ing you with. an uncle- who?s a chemist,
or a butcher, or goodness- knows what.
Bah! I should; think the- mere fact of
being a hospital nurse was- at patent of
nobility to any: womaa. But if my little
girl were a.' beggar-maidcni she would
tyi be a real princess.. God. bless her!"
And RichardTs groani may have been an
assent. Casseu..
The Anvil;.
Ordinary anvils are.- forged in six or
seven pieces ana men, put togetner.
Cast anvilsare hardened, ia a float in
stead of being dipped, and larger sized
ones are swung into a. tank by means of
a crane. These latter are- also frequently
cast about a. core, which permits them to
cool more uniformly. Gold beaters use
for an anvil a steel block having a sur
face about three by four inches in ex
tent. Upon this the gold is reduced to
a plate one-sixteenth of an inch in thick
ness and afterward beaten out on an an
vil of black marble; The forms and!
uses of the anvil are- constantly extend
ing in variety and, from the liliputian
one of the watchmaker to the great ones
used in forging heavy cannoD, they are
daily growing more busy throughout the
world. Many of the common black
smiths' anvils are provided with a second
horn socketed upon the beak and having
grooves upon its upper surface into which
horse shoes are driven for the purpose of
bevelling the inner surface, so as to pre
vent "balling" when traveling in snow.1
The various special forms of the anvi
are exceedingly numerous. The progress
of machines and the introduction of
steam hammers have brought into use in
late years enormous anvils weighing, in
many cases, several hundred tons. These
are usually cast in the form of a trun
cated quadrangular pyramid, and placed
with the smaller end upon substantial
foundations of masonry. Industria7
World.
English railroads are adopting cars in
which are boxes fitted up inside with India-rubber
paneling and floor-coverings
for the transportation of valuable race
horses. ." "
The modern Noah's ark is an umbrclH
and a rubber coat. IIolcl $faih
LONDON PENNY-A-LINERS,
Their Halt and Practices Vohe
mlan Life In London.
In a receit letter from London to the
Louisville Commercial the writer describe
in an interesting and vivid manner a per
culiar phase of newspaper life in the
English metropolis. He says:
In describing the London newspaper
press of to-day it is no inappropriate he
ginning, I hope, to descend to the lowesV
round of the ladder, and to introduce
your readers forthwith to the " penny-a-liner."
He still exists poor fellow
and at times plays an important part in
the pages of daily journalism. Indeed,
with a clear run of luck, I venture to
state that the "liner "is the most read
man of the day, and when he has chanced
to fall on a great sensation, and is suc
cessful in retaining the monopoly, his
readers are to be numbered by millions,
and are limited only by the united cir
culation of the Beveral prints publishing
.his "copy.'T
The "linerrn then, is "the picker-up
of unconsidered trifles." As such) he is
attached to no one papcr,but contribute,
to all. He belongs to no staff and ac
knowledges no superior. His daily work
depends entirely upon his own selection
and his anxiety at all hours is for news.
When his search is successful, he' pro
ceeds to use his "blacks," a carbonized
paper, his stylus and his wits, iu order
to produce some' six or eight "flimsies,
which he afterward drops into the re
spective editors'' '"boxes" of Fleet street,
ia the hope that" oney two, three, or even,
more of the journals of the following day
may contain his item of intelligence.- The?
liner is paid by the-line for what is used
only, and hence his income is a most pre
carious one. Perchance some windfall
may put a heap of gold in his way,, at
rare intervals, but ihithe ordinary course
bis "flimsies" are thrown into the waste
basket as soon as received.
Sub-editors are but human, and badly
written, almost illegible, horribly spelled,,
and frantically ungrammatical expres
sions on commonplace subjects are liable
to try their patience; unduly. "Boil it -down"
is a rule which is not to the
"liner's" interest to observe. On the.
other hand, one of trie chief qualifica
tions of his craft is to enlarge, expand,
distend, dilate the most matter-of-fact '
circumstances. Artful. " liners " write a.
small, cramped hand.asid leave no mar
gin for corrections or. space between the
linesv
If "so fortunate as to secure some sort
of engagement by one of the morning or
evening papers, the "liner," has a stimu
lus to labor honestly, which most of hij
fraternity are without; There is every
reason to suppose that low-class " liners '
make the major part of their incontCs- f
ont of the douciers .they receive for sup
pressing reports. Provided there be a..
combination among them, they can safely
promise to "keep it out of the papers,'
and they are sometimes bribed to hush,
up i what probably never would have
appcared at all, for it is the ignorant
man who magnifies, his personal affairs,
that is most desirous- of paying hush,
money.
The feeling of rivalry is so strong among;
"liners" that they do -not hesitate to - be-
tray each other when it serves their pur
pose. An amusing incident is related, by
Mr. James Grant,, formerly editor of the
Morning Advertiser; A "liner" who, in
those days, was. allowed access to. the
sub-editor's room. placed on the table- a
; report of the romantic elopement of arich.
beauty with a-stable: boy. The subrcdi-
! tor was absent, and: before he rofcurned
another "liner"" entered the room,. sawthe
"heading of the copy and purloined the
news, men ne sea to work to rcwrue. tne
statement which was a most interesting
one, and under his own name- took it
back to the 'office. The account duly ap
peared.. Both ''liners" sent in.their bills,
and the dishonest one was first at the
cashier's counter, and went his way with
his ilkgotten gains. On the arrival of the
real author a scene ensued, and the sub
editor was called upon to produce the
MSS. On his doing so the victimized
4 'liner" was bewildered to find that it was
his rival's handwriting. A collision sub
sequently took place, in the sub-editor's
presence, between the two. ''penny-liners,'
and by and by the recriminations reached
so great & height that the real author, de
termined to be revenged on his enemy at
all hazards, broke out with great .energy
in these words : "Sir, the article is mine.
The man must have stolen the copy Heft
on your desk, for there is not a word of
truth in the story. It was a pure inven
tion of mine from beginning to enL"
Eleven men, bearing the name of
''Billy the Kid,"- have been killed and
buried in the cemetery at Fort Worth,
Texas, since its existence '
A.
I)