AS GOOD AS GOLD. OUAITEB XLI.â€" Cantimied. "Good moi'iiing. good morninB," aai^ the slruoficr with profluui) hBartini'sa. "Is it Mr. IlcncluiriJ 1 ain tajkintj lot" •'My oaiiie U Hcnchard," 'Then 1 caught ye at hcimoâ€" that' * right. Mcjrning's tho time for buai- Ill(>^«. says 1. Cum 1 have a few words with yciu i" "lly all menns." H'onchard aliBweredj oholwiog the way in. ''VUi may remeuiber met" said his visitor, seating himself. U«uchard ubcierved him indifferent- ly, and shook his bead. "Well â€" (Mirhaps you may not. My name is NeM'soiD." H«ncbard'8 face and eyes seemed to die. The other did nut notice it "I kmorw the name "well," HViuchard said at last, looking on the floor. "1 make nu doubt of that. Weill, the fact is. I've been looking for ye this fortnight ixuit. I went through Casterbridge Ua my way to Weydon Priors, and when I got there, they told mo yell had s<jfne yeotis before been living at Custerbridge. Back came I again, and by long and by late 1 Igot here by cuach, ten miuLites ugo. "lie lives down by the mill," says they, tio h»re 1 am. >iuw â€" that trausacliun between us some twemy years agoue â€"'tis that I've called abc^at. 'Twua a curious business. I was younger then than I am uor>v, and perhaps the less •aid about it, in one sense, the better." "Curious bubiuessf Twas worse than curious. 1 cannot even a^low that I'm the man you met there. I was nut in my senses, and a man's senses ar« himself." < "We were yciL-.ng and thoughtless," aaid Newsotl. "However, I've come to mend matters rather than ux>en argu- ments.' Vital dosua â€" ber's was a â- trange experience." > "It was." . „ "She was a warm-hearted, home- â- pfun woman. Bhe was not what theyl caiU shrewd or sharp at allâ€" better sha bad been." "t»he was not." "As ycu in all likelihood know, she was simple-minded enough tu tbinU that the sale was binding, ^he was as guiltlesM o" wrong-doing in tbat par- ticular as a saint in the cltnids." "1 knnw it, 1 know it. I found it Out directly," said Uenchard, still with averted eyes, '"there lay the sting o't to me. If she had known the tiuth she would never have left me. Never I Out how sliouJd she be expected to to know I. What advantages bad sbel None. She could >frite her own name and no more." "Well, it was not in my heart to undeceive her when the deed wad done," said the sailor of former days, "I tbLfjght, and there was not much vanity in thinking it, tbat sbe would be happiex with me. She was fairly happy, and 1 never wauJd have uude- oeived her till the day of b^r death. Yuir child died; she had another, and all went well. Hut a time c^meâ€" mark me, a time always dues coiue. Al time came â€" it was some while after sbe and I and the child returned fruiiu Americaâ€" when somelHidy she had rou.. tided her history to told her my cluim, to her was a mockery, and made jest of her belief in my rignt. After thati she was ne\er happy with mo. She pined and pined, and socked and sighed. Hhe said slie must leave me, and ltit>n came the question of our child. Iht-a a man advised me what to do, and II did it., fi>r I tbiAight it was be.st . 1 left her at Kalmouth, and went off to â- ea. When i got to the other side of the Atlantic there was a Hturm, and it was Htippoeed that a lot of ns. In- cluding myself, had been washed over- boaril. 1 got ashore at Newfoundland, and then Tasked myseJf what i should do. "iSiiice I'm hero, here I'll l>ide,'*»i I thit:ght to mywilf; "twill lie most kindness to her, now she's taken against ine, to let her' believe me lost; for.' I thought, 'while she suppo.sus us both nlivn she'll lie miserable: but if sbM thinks me dead sha'U go back to him. an<l the child will have a home.' I've never returned to this country till a m>ei<h ago, and I found that, as 1 bad supposed, she went to you, and my ilaiigliier with Imr. 'I'hey twld me in Falmouth that Ku.ian was dead. Hut Kii/.'|l)«th-Jan<>â€" where is she?" "Diead likewise," said Hcnchard diiff- geilly. "Siirely you learnt that l<ml" The sailiir started up, and look an enervateil iwce or two down the room "Dead I" he said, in a low voice. "Them what's tlie use inf my money to me f" Ilk^nchard, withctut answering, shook bis liead, OS if 'that were rather a ques- tion for Newton bimsulf than for him. "Where is she buried t" the traveller inquired. . i 'Ueside her mother." said Henchard, ' ID 4he same Htiiliil tones. j "When did she diof" I "A year ago, and morn," replied the other withotit hesitation. The sailor continued standing. Hen- chard never looked up from the floor. At last Newson said, "My ucurney hith- er has been for nothing. I may as well fn as f rame I It has served me right. 11 tremble you no longer." Ilktnchard heard the retreating fwit- steiM of Newson upon I he sanded floor. N«vw.ion'8 shadow pusijed the window, | Ho was (trne. Then (Henchard. scarcely bplieving the evidence of his senxes, rose from his B<>at. amazed at what ha had done. { It had been the imptilse of a moment. We hastily put on his hat, and went otit in the nirectiiMi that Newson had taken. Newson's back was soon visilde up the rokd. Henchard followed ; and •nw hin vinitcfr stop nt the (loldnn Crown, where the morning coach which had brrtight him waited half-an-hour tor another coach which crossed there. The c^ach Newson had come by wa« •bcAit to move -again. Newson mounl.- ed ; hii luggage was (lut in, and in ,a tevr minutM the vehiole disappeared vlth him. ( Hie had net so 'much as turned hia I btal. It was an act of siotlkie faith in Uenchard's woxda â€" faith so simple B.s to Iw almost aublime. The youii^ K-'iilor who bad taken h'lisan Henchard cm the spur of the moment, and on the faith of a glanoe at her face, more than twenty years before, was still living and acting under the form of the griz- zled traveller who had taken Uen- chard's words on trust so absolute as to shame him as he stood. Was I'^izabeth-Jane to remain his by virtue of this hardy inveralion of a mctnent f "i'erharta not for long," said he. Newsoin might converse with his fellow-travellers, some of whom might be Casterbridge people ; and the trick wumld bo discovered. He watched the distant highway, ex.- peoting to see Newsojj return on foot, enlightened and indignant, to claim hia child. HutI no figure appeared. Hi) reitJurned to the bouse half ex- pecting that sbe wculd liave vanished. No; there sbe was â€" just coming out frc-m the inner room, the marks of sJe«p upon her eyelids, and exhibiting a generally refreshed air. "Oh, father," she said smiling. "I had no sooner Iain down than I napped, thci.igh I did not m«an to! I wonder 1 did not dream al)out poor Mrs. Kar- frae, after thinking of her so ; but I did no*. How strange it is that we do not often dreiim of latest events, ab- sorbing as they may be." "I am glad yoi bavie been able to sleep," he said, taking her hand with anxious proprietorship â€" an act which gave her a pleasant surprise. "Father," she said, as soon as sbe recalled herself to the outspread meal, "it is so kind of yuu to get thisi pice bieiikfast with your own bands, and 1 idly asleep the while." "I do it every day," he replied. "You have left me ; everybody has left me ; haw should I livo but by my Own hands ?" "You arei very lonely, are you notf" "Ah, child â€" to 11 dfligree that you know nothing of. It is my 6wo fault. Yi-h a*io the only one who has been near me for weeks. And you will come no more." "Why do yob say thatf Indeed I will it yell would like to see me^" Uenchard signified dubiousness, l^hi'tigh lie had so lately hoped tbat Klizabeth-Jane might again live in his •hou9e'"ff8'' daughter, he would not luk her to do so now. , When they had bre.ikfasted his stej)- daiighier still lingered till the moment arrived at which Henchard was accus- toimed to go to his daily work. Then she arose, and with assurance of coming again soon Went up the hill in the morning sunlight. "At this mi.iiieiit her lieart is as warm ttAvards me as mine is towards her ; she wcUd live with me here in this humble odtlage for the bskingt Yet befure the evening probably he will have come; and then she will de- spise me." ibis reflection, constantly repeated by Uencburd to himseilf, accompanied him everywhere tbrUigh the day. To the east of Costerbridge lay moors and meadofwB, through which tuueb water flawed, 'i'he wanderer in this direction, who shi>aid stand still for a few moments on a quiet night, tuight hear singtilar symphonies from these j waters, as Jruu a lampless orchestra, I ail playing in their sundry tones, from . near and far p<irt,8 of the moor. Henchard, nurwever, leaving the 1 towm by the east road. pro- ' ceeded to the second, or stone . bridge, and thence struck inio this path of solitude, following its course , beside the stream till the dark shapes . of tie Ten-ilatcbes cut the sheen I thrown upon the river by the weak lus- ( Ure that still lingered in the west. In a second or two he stood beside the weiT-hoie where the waiter was at its deepest. He looked bot^kwards and forwards, and no creature appeared in |.view. Ho then took olt his coat and hat, and stood on the brink of the stre.im with bis hands clasped in front of him. : While his eyes were bent on the wa- ter lieneatJi ihore slowly herauie visi- ble a soiuethiug floaliug in the cin^u- lar pool formetl by ihie wash ot cen- turies; tJie l>ool lie was intending to make his deatJi-bed. At lust it was â- inoistinot, by xeiuiun ot the sbadow from the bunk; hut it. emerged tbence, and took shaiMj, which was that of a human body, lying stiff and statrk up- , on the surface of liie stream. I Th« souse of the supernatural was strong in tiiis unlia-ppy iiiau* and he turTied away as one migiii have done in I he oolual presence oi an appalling mirafdo. He covered his eyes and bow- ed bis head. Witliout looking again in- to the stj-eam he took his coat and hut, and went slowly away. Presently he tound himself by the door of bis own dwelling. To 'his surprise, Klizabei.h-.lane was stand- ing there. Newson, then, had not even yet retiu'ued. "1 thought you soeined very sad. this morning,'' she said, "so I bave couie again to see you. Not tbat 1 am any tiling but .â- sad myself . Hui everybody and everything seem against you so; anil 1 know you must he suffering," He said to her, "Are uiiroclea still worke<l, do ye tiiink, Klizabeth* 1 am not a read man- I don't know so much as I could wish. I have uried to per- use and learn all mv life; but the more 1 try to know tte more ignorant 1 seem." i "1 don't quite think there are any miracles nowadays," she said. "No interference in the case of des- perate intentions, for instaflce? Well, poj-hnps not, in » direct way. Per- haps Hot. But will you come and walk with me, and U. will show you what 1 mean" She agreed willingly, and he took her over the highway, and by the lone- ly path to Teii-lJalciies. \Vben Ibey got neoj the wetr ho stood still, and asked heir to go foi-wiwd and look in- to the iiool, and tell bun what she saw. She went, and soon returned to him. "Niithing," she said. "Cro again," said Henuhard, "and look narrowly." She proceeded to the river brink a aeiXiud lime. On her return, after some delay, she told hliu that she saw some- thing floating thoire; but what it was she oould. not dis<;ern. it seemed to be a bundle of old clothes. "Are tliey like mine?" asked Hen- dhard. "Wellâ€" they are- Dear me â€" I won- der ifâ€" Father, tet us go away." "(ro and look once more; and Uien we will get homo." She wont hack, and be could see her •toop till bar hMMl \na oluse io the maj'gin of the pool. Sbe started up, ujiil hastened bock to his side. "Weil," aaid IJeuchiud; "what do you say now!" "LuL us go home." "iJut leh me â€" ilo â€" what is it float- ing there?" i / â- I'uo euigy," she answered hastily.. "Thuy uiusL have thrown it into the river, higher up auiongsL the willowM, j |,etj)-J to get rid of it in their alarm at dis- cov«>ry; and it must have floated down here." "Ah â€" to be suire â€" the image o' mel Uut where is the other? Why that one onl> 1 . . . That perlormance ot tbeira killed bur, hut. saved uie aiivel" Klizubeth-Jaae thuugbt and thought of these words, "saved me alive," as they slowly retraced their way to tho town I and at length guessed theij< meaning. "Father! â€" i. will not leave you alone like thisI" she cried. "May I live with you, and tend ujion you as I used to do? 1 do not mind youit being poor. 1 would have agreed to ujme this morning, but you did not ask me." > "May you come to me?" be cried bitterly. "BlixabeQx, don't mook mel if you only would comel" "1 will," said she. "How will you forgive all my rough- ness in former days? You cannoil" "1 have foagotten it. Talk of tbat no more." The next morning the fact turned, out to be OS Klizabeth-Jaue bad stat- ed; the effigy was discovered by a cow- herd, and that of Lucetta a little higbetr up in the same stream. But oa little as (Kissible was said of the mat- ter, and the figures were privately des- troyed. Despite this natural solution of the mystery, Hencboxd no less regarded it as an intervention that the figure' should liave been floating there. i:;iiz- abetbi-Jane beard him say, "Who isi such a reprobate as II And vet it seems that even I. am in Somebody's band I" "Ohâ€" that's rightâ€" that's right. ... It was only thot I saw hun in the street when we Ixith were there." He w.is wondering if her emlxirras-sment justi- fied him in a new su.ipicion â€" that the long walks which sbe had latterly been taking had anything to do with the young man. ' There was nothing secret in Eliza- CHAPa-ER Xlill. But tbe emotional conviction tbat he was in Some)}ody's hand began to die Udt ot Henchard's breast as time slowly removed into distance the event which luul given that feeling birth. The aiiparition of Newson haunt- ed him. He would surely return. Yet Newson did not arrive. Laicetta had been borne along the churchyard path; Casterbridge had for the last time turned its regturd uiion her, be- fore proceeding to its work as if she had never lived. But Klizabeth re- mained undistuxl^ed in the belief of her relationship to Uenchivrd, and now shored hiH home. In due time the bere.ived Farfrae had learnt the at least proximate cause of Lucetta's illness and death; and his first impulse was naturally enough to wreak vengeance in the name ot the law upon tae perpetrators of tbe mis- chief. Lticetta had cxjnfessed every- thing to him before her death, and it was not altogether desirable to make much ado about her bisLory, alike for her sake, for Henchard's, and for bis OWTl. Uenchard and himself mutually fore- l)are to meet. For Klizalietb'a sake tbe former had fettered his pride sufficient- ly _to accept the small see<l business Avhich some of the Town Coujjoil, head- ed by Kajfrae, had purchased, to af- ford him a new opening. Here they settled themselves; and on eat^h day of their lives Henchard antici- IMited her every wish with a watchl'ul- ne.ss in which paternal regard was heightened by a burning, jealous dread ot i-i\-ulry. Thus they lived on in 'the .shop over- looking the chun-hyoj-d, anil nothing iMX'iirred to mark their days during the remainder of the year. Uoing out but seldom, and never on a market-day, they saw IJoijald t'arfrae only at rarest intervals, and then mostly us a tran- .siiory object in the distance of the street. "Time, in bis own gray style," taught Farfrae bow to e.siiwa>e bis experience lot Lucettuâ€" all that it was, and all that it was not. He could not but iieneive that by the death uf liucetta he had exchanged a looming misery for a .sim- ple sorrow. Afier thit revelation of her history, which must have come sooner or later in any cirtui stances, it was bard xo believe that lite with her would have been productive uf fur- ther happiness. Hy the end of a year Henchard's lit- tle retail seed and grain shop, not much larger than a cui>iKiard, had develop- ed Its trade coivsidorably, and the ste|>- falher and daughter enjoyed much serenity in the pleasant, sunny corner in which it stood. The quiet; bearing of one who brimmed with an inner ac- tivity ch.iracterised Klizabeth-Jane at thi.s period. She hail her own way in everything now. In going and coining, in buying and selling, her word was law ane's movements beyond what b.ibitual reserve induced; and it may at once be owned on her account that she was guilty of ot'casional conversa- tions with Don-iid when they chanced to meet. Henchard became aware ot this by goi(ig to the Ring. and. screen- ed by its enclosure, keeping his eye uiion the ro:id till he saw them meet. His face a.ssume<l an exiiression ot ex- treme anguish. , "Of her; too, he means to rob n)e!" he whispered. "But he has the right. I do not wish to interfere," Could he have heard such conversa- tion as passed be would liave been en- lightened thus ratuib:- He.â€" "You like walking this way, Miss Henchard â€" is it not so?" She â€""Oh yes. I have chosen this road latterly. I have a reason for it." He.â€" "Ana tbat may make a reas- on for others." She (reddening). â€" "I don't know; that. My reason, however, is that I wish to get a glimpse of the sea every day." He.â€" "Is it a secret why?" She (reluctantly). â€" "Yes." Heâ€" "Ah, I doubt there will be any good in secrets! A secret cast a deep shadow over my life. And well you kniw what it v\as." Elizabeth admitted that she did, hut she refrained from confessing why the sea attracted her. Henchard vowed that be would leave them to their own devices, put nothing in the way of their courses, wbatevev they might mean. If he were doom- ed to be bereft of her, so it must he. With such a imssibility impending he oould not help watchfulness. The meet- ings seemed to become matters of course with them no siiecial days ot the week Once he was standing behind a wall close to the place at which Farfrae en- cnunte'ed her, and he thmiprh? h<^ heard the young man a<ldress her as "Dearest Klizal)etli-Jane." " ' Had she lost he«r heart tojiny other man in tJie world than the one be had rivalled, cursed, w-restled with for life in days before hi<t spirit was broken, Henchard wtould have said, "T am con- tent." But content with the prospect as now depicted was hard to acquire. Thpre is an outer ihamber of the brain in which tboughf.s unowned, un- solici'nd, and of noxious kind are sometimes allowed to wamder for a nviment prior to l)eing sent off whence they came. One of these thoughts sailed into Henc.haT<rs ken now. Sujiposs he were to communicate to Farfrae the fact that his betrothed was not the child of Michael Henchard at all -legally, nobody's child; how would tbat correct and leadinir tovvns- man receive the information? He might jiossibly forsake V^lizabeth-June. and then she would be her step-sire's own again. Henchard shuddered, and exclaimed. "God forbid such a thing! ^yhv should I still be subject to these v:!iit»tion of the Devil, when I try so bard to keep him away?" â- (Tto he Continued.) 'You have got a new muff, Kliza- th," ho said t< ' humbly. beth," ho said to her ime day quite ']Yes; I liought it," she said. "Hat her costly, I .suppose, luy dear, was it not?" ho hazarded. "It was rather alwve my figure," sbe said quietlv. "Hut it is not showy." "Oh, no,' said the nettled lion, anx- ious not to pique her in tbe least. Some little time after, when the year had advanced into another spring, he paused ojiposlte her empty bedroom in passing it. The present npom was much humbler, but what struck him al>oul it was the abumlance of books lying everywhere. For the first time he felt a little hurt by what he thought her extravagance, and resolvojl to say a word to her about it. But, before he had found the courage to speak, an KATE GIIEENAWAY. Every one has beard the name of Kate Greenaway, the talented English artist, who has done more to revolu- tionize children's dress than any other living woman. No woman is lietter known in Kngland and in America tht^n she, and yet no woman's personal life and habits are less known and talked of than hers. The reason of this lies in tbe fact that she reganls her private life as something sacred to herself and her friends, and has never allowed any one to interview her, and refrains from accepting attentions and entertain- ments that »ouJd bring her into a con- spicuous position. .She lives, hovyever, in an old and picture-ique bouse, in the neigblx>urhood of Hampstead Ileatb.and bus her studio httie on the top floor, a large, well-lighted and cosy room, It.s long windows open out into a l<al- cony, whore Miss tireenaway loves to sit on pleasant days. She is most in- dustrious, and to her bard work, origin- ality, and love for children, is attrilv uted her great success. Like every oth- er successful man and woman, Kate Greenaway toiled long and earnestly Lieforo fame smiled upon ber. First she studied at the art s.^tiool in South Ken- sington, and next at the life clas.ses at Heatberley's another famous London studio, and at tbe Siade school. When her first pictures were e.<ihil>ited at the Dudley gallery they attracted some at- tention and much prai.se. and it was after this that Miss Greenaway devoted herself to illustrating children's liooks, and to designing Christmas, birthday, and dinner cariLs, menus, and all kinds of pretty and artistic novelties. A col- Im^tion ot pretty colored sketches ot children dre.ss»d in the quaint, old-fash- ioned gowns ot a century ago, publish- ed under the title ot, " Under the Win- dow," brought her fame. This was not only confined to the artistic lirother- hood, but fashion ^quickly recognised the charm and style ot these picture- sque costumes and adopted them. Ifn- til then children had U^en overdre-ssed or â- inattra<'tively dre.ssed. and the lieau- tit il and numerous fashions in dainty gi ns and cjoats tin'' hats, which conv- WHAT IS QOINQ ON IN THE FOUR CORNERS OP THE aLOBB. Old and New World Event* of InterMt CliroMi Iclcd Brieflyâ€" Interutlng Hapncniags ai Recent Date. Nanseo is to receive tbe degree of doctor of science from) Cambridge Uni- versity ibis ^ontb. Canon Owen, the newly appointed Bishop of .St. Duvid's, is a WeJsh speak- ing Welshman. English Government ordnance and geological survey maps °ate to be sold bereatter at all Poet Oftiues. Messrs. Thorneyrroft's a^not torpe-" do boat destroyer Famsi^^Bo an aver- age of 30,153 knots o> The Star, tocicdo boat destroyer, built by tbe-Pafmers, made an average of 31.05 knots on her three-hour trial. Marseilles had a riot in tbe Grand Theatre the other day because a num- ber of women refused to take oft their big hats. I I Gen. Cadcrna, who commanded tbe Ita,lian troops when they took posses-, sion of Kome in 1870, died recently at the age of 82 years. Mr. Bancroft, the retired EnglisU actor, has made over J 13,000 for Kng- lisb hiit.t>itals this seLis.>n by readinfl Dickens's Christian Carol. "Madame T<u£8aud" paid Dr. Naosenl 95.000 for tbe blubber-soaked suit he wore when he metJ Mr. Jackson on the ice of Franz Josef Land. Mr. Escctnb. the newi Premier of Na- tai, is a Lcouion Je'tv who started aa a ready made doitbing' dealer. After going into tiaakiAiptcy, he concluded tha the wiMd be« more succee.ilul as a lawyer. i lAn attempt to acclimatize ostriches in Sou'th Russia baa proved succeasiulj The ostriches born in tiussia are mUcU leas seubi.i.e to cold tbaiv the import- exl ones, and their pdumus are equarlly good. Rome's Heralds' College has discover- ed that Vue Marchese di Kudiui, tbe Italian ti-eiuier, has no right to bi« title, whicb belongs to anotueir brancb of bis family. H^ is properly onlT! Signar Antonio biarabba. Two London Italians recently bad a bicycle wedding in a Leicester square church. The briue and groom rode on a "sociable" to tbe charcb, followed by the guests on twelve sociables and six- teen single bicycles. Livingstixue's tree «t o4d Cfaitambo, which shaded tbe spot where his hearts is buried, has ueariy talleji to pieces. A recent traveller asks that some last- ing mark be placed over tbe spot where tbe great explorer died. Sir Ilicbard BKirtun's book on "Hu- man Sacritices Among the Sephardim the Spanish Jews, j-* abotitjs_be put>-^ lished soon in Loudon. It Is a thor " iuvestigatiiiia ol Ihv legend about tue killing ot Christian children for Jewish roligiuus rites. Lixrd Brassey. Governor of Soath Aus- tralia and uwDer of tbe "btanheam," was thrutvn from his horse recently, breaking his cullar bono and sustaining so'vere inj'ariea in the chest. He was pitched on his head and the horse roll- ed over him. Medical service in the British army see<ms to be very unpopular. At a re- oent examination for thirty-five vacan- cies caily thirty-one canuidatea appear- ed, th<,|.gb the ru.e forbidding a man frum trying after having failed twice, was susiiended. M. Wilsoti, the son-in-law of Jules Grevy. "ivha by his corrliipt practices caused tbe retirement o£ his falher-in- law and came near putting an end to tbe I'reaideucy. now threatens to pub- lish his reveiatiims. 'i'hey will cause mi.re scandal than even the Panama affair. iHibr^v is Springing up again as a living literary l.mg.iage in Kastera KViroj)*. A Lionvh.y review is now p.iblisbed at Berlin in the Hebrew lan- guage, while Ma^J>er6's "Ancient His- tory of the People* of the East" hoa iHveu pfiKished in Hebrew by a War- saw {Hiblisber. Pupe l.«u's pontifical medals whicb, according to cli.-<Lom, are struck every two yenrs. are now ready. Un one side is the l'o(>o's profile, ou the other tbe figure of (.Jur Lady of the Hosary sitting ona a throne with the Christ child on her arm and with the right hand giv- ing a rvwary to St. Dominick. I'.'ngland doeti not uieau that France shall get aheaii of be«,' in Negus Mene- trary out one Siiturday afternoon towards tue market-place, from a curious feeling that he vrxiuld like to pass a few min- utes on the s|K>t of his former triumphs. Farfrae stood a few steps below the Corn Kxchunge door, and he appeared lost in thought about something lie was looking at a little way off. Henchard's eyes followe*! Farfrae's, and he saw that tho object ot his gaze was no sample-showing farmer, but his own stepilaught«r, wlio had just come out of a shop oveir tho way. She, on her part, was quite unconscious ot his at tpiilion. Henchard went away, thinking that lierhaps there was nothing significant after all in Fratrae's look at Elizabeth- Jane at that juncture. But the mere thought bt aeinratlon fevered his spirit much, aod in the evening he said, witji the stillness of suspense, "Have you seen Mr. Farfrae to-day, Eli/alieth?" RlizabethrJane Htarted at the que.s- tion; and it was with some contiiaion tbat sbe replied "Na" . data ,'rom Miss Kate Greenaway'a ef- forts fifteen years ago. MME. CALVE. Calve, tbe Ciirmen ot the century, su- pei 6 Calve, is a lioxer ot no mean abil- ity. She can "bit, atsp and get away" after the most approved fashion. In b*ir personal luggage she always carries a stout inflatable bag, with the hooks and elastic straps, by which at a mo- ment's notice, it may be put in po.si- tion. Instead ot sanding up before a live antagonist, which might lie danger- ous, sbe conseni herself with punch- ing a noncompative but active bag. Just half an hour after her cup of coffee, CaJvo gets into a heavy sweater and a short skirt and merrily proceeds with her warfare vntil she is in a sort of perspiration which she considers death to adipose. Then after a cold bath she breakfasts and further exer- cises on a bicycle, ot which sbe ii a de- voted advocate. lek's favor without a^ »&&tti;t^ «<Sl|^iim. .-^^ just sent an expedition of army omcers to Abyasiuia, which includes auiung its memtiers tlie (jveen's distant relative Count trleichen, and a son of Lord Sal- isbury. None of the officers is under six feet ta,H ; one is 6 feet 7 invhes, two 6 feet 4, and ome 6 feet 3. True manua has been tound on a blue grass in Queensland. It appears on the nixles of the stems in masses as large as marbles. It iv sweet, ami nearly thre« parts uf it consist of uiannile. which, thv^igh swee>t, is not a sugar. It also contains a ferment w hich has the power to decompose ciuie sugar without e'volving carbonic aii 1 or any king of gas. The gratis i> no: only in- digeiKlis in Au.strakt<i, but >t is found a.lso in tropical Asia Itn^^j^ru- A GRBA'r WEDULNG DAY. Ten thousand one hundred and one weddings were once celebrated simul- taneously at Susa, which at one time was tbe metropolis of the I'crsian Bta- pire. Alexander the Great, having con- quered Persia, wished tofunite victors i\ud vanquished by the frongest ties \'j, possible, and therefore lecreed these weddings. Alexander hiilselt married Statira. the daughter olHarius; 100 ot his chief officers were fiited in wed- r-"" lock to ladies from t, he iip>le8t Persian ^ families, while 10,000 of be Greek sol- diers were married to p.OOO Persian women. FRISIAN LEt^ The North Frisians m oitul to people who don of their legends says tl old maids are doomed tj of the sun when it has horizon, and tho ghosts elora must fix them running, like lamplight a ladder all night. DS. very unmer- marry. One after death <'ut stars out lielow the the old bacb- in the aky, up and dowa r -, ^i*;