The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

111110398 0? THOUGHT. Health of mind consists in the percep- ' being. lb n of law. lzs dignity consists in undervhe‘lxw. ' ‘ ' The best part of health is fine disposi- tion. I' is In"h: essential than talent, own in the works of laleut. Poetry whet the enormous force of a {4" cords, and in proportian to them- sprratiun, checks Masai“. . seclusion is not conquest; it is cruci- fixion. buuiig character, like strong muule, coma from activity, from war, fare, not from retreat. We ask for long life, but it is dvep life, of grand mom-sins, that signify. Let the ninm of time bespiriiual, not mechani- ur‘. The purest literary talent appears st one time great, at another time' small, but character.- is of a stellar and undirninish- able greatness. The basis of good manners is self-reli- nircr. Necessity is the law of all who are nut self-yesesscd. Those who are not scrivpomssed obtrude. and pain us. In all the superior people I have met, I notice directness, truth spoken more truly, as if everything of obstruction, of liidilufmhtloll, had been trained away. Spiritual life is not knowing or hearing, but doing. We know only as far as we can do, we learn to do by doing, and we learn to know by doing. \Vhat we do truly, rightly, in the way of duty, that, and only that. we are. Icelandic Scenerv. Tire glory of Iceland is in its coloring. With considerable experience of the finest scenery in Europe, 1 could not but feel Lllal’. evun Swnzerland, unless perhaps Al).de the constant snow-line, is not so glittering ;' Italy, with‘ a stronger light, has not He peculiar purity; and Scotland, alter it, seems toned down with a damp upwliue. The forms of Icelandic scenery arc, however, more curious than beauti- iul, though they had for me a weird iuncinaiion. There is often great con. tour; the hills are in long, huuimocked misses, wrtli perhaps a volcanic cone suddenly breaking the outline; there is a sort of diswiinected, uncoinbiiied effect nlmul. the landscape, easy to perceive but difficult to describe. Trees would not nu". it; and its wistful, melancholy grandeur is partly, no doubt, owing to [flu absence everywhere of iiiclosures. Square fields, roadsâ€"all lines, indeed, sine tllosi: curves which nature never draw! iiiiiiiiii.‘ The road, when there is one, is generally a more product of the hoofs of a hundred generations of ponies, sometimes worn iirtoadcep ditch or hollow way, some- times branching into a dozen little tracks, just large enough lor their small feet; and it needs some practice to choose the best line. It is merry riding in the pure light air; the loose ponies rattle on before; constantly one or another strays off after some fancy of its own, and has to be chaired back by the drivers who, dashing up and down, cracking their whips and shouting, ridjuring the ponies by name to keep the path or beware of the dogs, “who the cavulcaide lively; and the way must be bad indeed to rcducelit to a walking price, which always causes the loose ponies to stray more. We usually rode at a steady trot, but with many little halts, now to adjust a box, now to mend a rope, or, perhaps, to bail. our little steeds on some choice bits of grass. -.â€"â€"-â€"‘”d-->OQ-â€"â€"â€"â€"â€" lluenos Ayres. The ii'iiiigration is enurmous, though the hairline-are far the largest element. The railwa a, too, are increasing, and .‘ paying wunfibrf'ully; the Southern line sniircs uru ut‘ u. large premium now, and the Iiulrra Blanca county Will be opened up in a ten months by their new branch. A term i sp iiiging up there, and the Pa- criic steamer-s Will soon call there regu- lurly. And the Indians have only quite lately been driven out. Thing indeed go Very fast ahead in Buenos Ayres. Now that l have seen something of both counâ€" tries 1 can Ignite. understand why the Ar- gcrrrines up going ahead so fast, and Bra- zil is not, especially as the former govern- Inciit encourages foreign immigrants far more than the Brazilians. I do not, how- ever, think there is any coal in the re- public, wlrithecrns to be the one thing they most slim. Their agricultural fut- uro inust great. The climate is splendid ;'nuw, of course, being midwin- ter, ",2 vbry‘cold, but it is a pleasant, bracing cold, and first-rate, I believe for anyone whose chest is not very strong. lluuuos Ayms has one great drawback in tlic slrallowjiess of the water in the river, [or winin'ihe‘riveris low the large steam- ers can not go wriliiii sight of the town, and everything inusi be transliipped into lighters and agiiu into carts to be lauifed and s. 3‘ ever thing importe is necessgllygilriir Bugthuy are dredging out a hither, and Rosario up the I’m-ans is gnming enormously ; largo stcaiiien can gur‘mi charms: thch is a. fair chau- iiol in the centre of the river, although they cannot get to llueiios. It struck me as so curious seeing horses and carts going apparently far out to sea to meet units. another thing that uiust strike every visitor is the absence of great pov- erty. l rower saw a, person dressed in rage of lrppéueirily a pauper while in the country. l‘iiem is evidently great com- pciitiou in trade, and the population is very cosmopolitan. Unc beans every lan- guage spolcub i ~ 001"”?â€" llamms ts but Lure. (leiiilcmau~'l‘liurc is some mistake in this gas bill. this Collector~.\"o, air, the bill is all right. It ll according to the meter. Gentlemanâ€"It‘s very strange ; I cer- tainly burned more gas than tbs: last month. Gas Cullecwr-\\‘h-whst's that, sirl Ucirtlonrsn (cinphatically)â€"â€"I say 1 our tainly burned more gas than that last month. “AI Collector (turning pale and edging toward thqui’vlg-Veiy well, air, very well. Dds t’gut cicirid. sir ; keep quiet; calm yourself. Everything will no made all right. I assure you, sir. 'l‘lu- t'xrlloclul' then bounced dean the stairs an: shouted for help. l-‘uur police~ mac rcipuuied, air-l moving ominously rip the alt-alto they around the maniac and got “"1qu to a lunatic asylum. But iiulu hopes are entertained at his recov- ery. “I “ *3 --"“ .. 1 l l : y i I i l 1 VOL. XII. CHAPTER V.-â€"Cox-rr.~ivzn. Years afterwards Sidney Arnold could have described that firelit sceneâ€"the two young men in their hunting garb, the beautiful woman lying back on her satin cushions, the diamands on her fingers flashing back the firefight, the artistic background of the costly rurnitnre and bric-a-bruc, Chrissie Greville'e golden hair and blue eye and white skin showing so delicate lair against her black velveteen dress, Fran k haggard handsome face, his blue passionate eyes, which so rarely left Sibyl's-beautiful face, notwithstand- ing the constraint he put upon himself, and Stephen's tall figure, his grave face rather in the shadow, as he stood some- what behind the group round the fire.- Presently the conversation began to flag a little, and, sfter a little (pause, Stephen put down his tea cup an went over to the piano, which was open, and, sitting down, ran his fingers over the keys. Sid- ney remembered afterwards the “at homeness" that there was in his manner, how he had not waited to ask permission, or for a. request that he should play, but had done so as easily and carelessly as if he had been at Lsrnbswold. "Sing something," Mrs. Rutledge said presentlyâ€"“one of my favorites please." “You have so many," he answered laughingly, turning‘ his head with a smil- ing glance at her. “What shall it be?" “That German thing you sang on Tuesday," she said, leaning back in her chair, but turning her face towards the piano. As Stephen began to play, Frank mov- ed restlesst across the room, and, taking up his station near Sibyl, began appar. ently examining the china and articles of m'rtu on the shelves of an open cabinet near her. His sister was looking at some photographs of Sibyl which had been taken at. London soon after her mar rings. Sidney a face was turned to the fire, and her eyes were fixed upon its red glow as she sat. silent and motionless, to all ap- pearance listening to the music, although really not one note of the song reached her confused senses. She felt strange and bewildered, as if she had suddenly been awakened from a dream which she was trying to understand. And indeed the past few weeks had been like a corr- fused dream to her. Whathad she done? she was asking herself. She had given a promise which she ought to have died rather than give, she had engaged her- self tn a. man whom she did not love and who did not love her, and she had failed utterly in her attempt to win him from the mad infatustion which held him en- chained. What could she do? ' How would it. all end! How Would it all end! Stephen's sweet cultivated tenor voice rose in the immortal song of Heine which tells of the love of the palm and the pine ; but the words which reached Sidney’s ears as she sat were not Heine's words, nor were they sung; they were spoken in a harsh husky whisper. Ah, surely they were part of the same wretched dream from which she had not 3 et roused her- self! “You shall hear me!" whispered the husky eager tones. “To-night he will be awayâ€"â€" No, I will not be silent! You have driven me mad, and must take the consequences." The sweet tenor voice ceased; then came one or two soft lingering chords up- on the piano, then silence; great effort Sidney surued from the and looked round hurriedly. Ste had left the piano, Frank was in his for- mer place near her, Chrissie's fair head was still bent over' the photographs, and Mrs. Rutledge was leaning over them with her, her voice calm and even as usual, as she answered Miss Greville's re- marks. It was snowing softly when they pre- pared to leave the Hall, Sibyl going with them, and standing, is tall stately figure, on the threshold or the grand old house of which she was mistress. She had caught up a light tleccy white shawl and thrown it over her head. and she looked wonderfully beautiful. ing by her side, talking eagerly in a low wire, and it was Stephen who put the two girls into Doctor Arnold's comfortable brougham. uWhen are you going to Lindhurst, Sidney?" he said, as he drew the fur rug carefully over her. “On Thursday," she answered, forcing a smile. “After the ball?" he interroga “Yes, after the ball." “How Ion shall you be away?" he ask- ed, as he hcl the little gloved hand for a moment, areetless little hand, which flut- tered in his strong clasp. “Only a few days," she answered. “Tell Jarvis to drive on, please. We need not wait until Frank has finished his adieux." Stephen drew back, and they drove off: and Sdney, leaning back in the carriage, rook away with her a picture she never forgoH picture of the fall slim woman in her soft velvet draperies, and the handsome higgard young man standing on the broad stone steps. And she never recalled that picture in the future without a tbmb of pain. fire ted. CHAPTER VI. The snow, which had begun to fall so lightly « n the afternoon of the day on which Mrs. Rutledge had received her husband's remonstnuces with such indiff- erence, continued to fall at intervals dur- ing the whole of the next day, that fixed for the Hunt balk» that by the evening there was a soft thick covering upon the hills and the housewpe, and a great of slush in the streets, which deedsn the sound of the vehicles that thronged the High Street on their way to the As~ somny Beams. All Ashfonlwnine state of suppreucd excitement about the entertainment. The Hunt ball was always lookedfornrd to by SIDNEYls FOLLY! FENELON FALLS, ONTARIO, SATURDAY, JULY 26, 1884 she would wear and whether the famous Rutledge diamonds womd the as- sembly. Moreover, Min Dsunt of Lsmbswold was to make her debut; and of course Sidney Arnold would be present, and there would be a good opportunity for seeing holv she liked her fiance's de- votion to Mrs. Rutledge, of which all the Ashford gossips had been speaking for some weeks past. The Squire hid had more or less reason for the injudiciously-spoken remontrsn- ces which he had made to his young wife, for Ashford gossip had coupled her name far more freely with Frank Greville’s th in they had had any grounds for doing; still, although the stone of gossip gathers as it rolls, like a snowball, there was no doubt that there was some cause for com- ment. Several times in the week Frank Greville might have been met on the road to the Hall, riding his pretty chest- nut mare and dressed with even more than his usual care. Whenever Mrs. Rutled e drove into town, he was always at ban by some strange chance or other, and Sibyl had taken a fancy to visit Sid- ney Arnold often, at whose house it was of course only natural that Frank should be constantly found. Many of Sidnsy’s callers, on being ushered into the charm- ing old drawing room of the Gray House; had found Mrs. Rutledge there, beautiful and ridiant in her costly dark furs, and Frank Greville hovering about her chair. look in therichdress of white moire which left her shoulders and arms bare, while the Rutledge diamonds gleamed on her '11qu white throat and wrists and in the masses of her gldcn hair. “I am a grass widow, to-night," she said, laughing, as she greeted Sidney. “Mr. Rutledge was tired, and would not come, and Lady Eva has been kind en- ough to take rue under her wing." ~ “Sidney, how white you are!" Dolly whispered, lingering beside her for a. mo- ment. “Is anything wrong?" “No,” Sidney answered simply; and Dolly looked at her wistfully as the join- ed hcr mother: and the three ladies swept away, Dolly radiant in fleecy white tulle with a string of large pearls round her pretty throat. Never would Sidney Arnold forget that ball and the feeling of dread and terror which possessed her from the moment her eyes rested upon Sibyl's beautiful face. For some few minutes after she entered the ball room she was like a person mov- ing in a dream; all was confused and be- wildering. Mechanically she answered the greetings of her acquaintances, mech- anically she handed her programme to the eager young men who thronged around her. In the same dazed manner she glided away when her first partner claim- ed her. She remembered it all after- wardsâ€"how she had talked and danced and smiled, as people must do in society, or course Sidney “'38 Pl'esent “liloâ€"PW‘W ' no matter how their hearts might be ach- pale Sidney, with a wistful look in heri velvety dark eye-s; but her presence was ’ evidently no cnustnfnb on the infatuated young man. The Squire himself was look- ing moody and dissatisfied and ill. It ing. She remembered the pretty gaily- decorated ball room.the band in a gallery at one end, skilfully concealed in an ar- tistic bower of greenery, the pink-lined lace curtains dividing the easy flirting servefl l‘lm fight, 3110199” {mildem Bald» nooks and recesses from the ball room, "Odfhug Illa" head V‘nfllctwely 0““ the soft rustle of the silken skirts, the their afternoon _ tea. W but need had dreamy waltz music, the scent ofrflowem‘ the” been for h”“ {0 choose 3' Wlfe 9'” and the little, swift, untiring satin-shod tirely unsuited to him in every respect, 1 feet moving so unceusingly over the pop When he mlght have Chom‘f‘ from 8' d°zen ‘ ished floor. All these things she remarri- w"ll'b°m Woman nearer hm own ages at“ ’ bored afterwards, although just then she accepted Mr. Rutledge as the next best, parti', and who ought tobeashamed of her present conduct. , So the busy tongues wagged, and, if an echo of their chatter came to Sidney Ar- phen , Frank was stand~ ; cwfera? He would be sure to suffer for his folly, and he would receive but little compassiou. Miss Neil had always been a designing flirt, who,~-hav1ng failed in her endeavors to win Stephen Daunt, had she gave no sign that it reached her. She was always bright and gay, very gentleâ€"oh, so gentle lâ€"to Frank, and, if she had lost the pretty imperious manner which had once been so characteristic of her, it was but natu~ rsl now that she was an engaged young lady. Sidney Arnold, holding back the cur- tains from the window of her father's study, thought how redly the lamps in the High Street gleamed through the fall- ing snow, and how pretty the country must look under its white veil, and won-_ dared slightly at her lack of excitement about the ball, and sighed as she dropped the curtains and came back slowly into her room. She was dressed for the ball, and only waited now for her father, who had been called away to a patient just as they were starting. Last year such a contretemps would have seriously annoyed Miss Ar- nold, who liked to be in good time, knowing how eagerly her appearance was looked for by thebest waltzers in Ashford; but on this evening there was no impa- tience or annoyance on the fair young face on which the light of Dr. Arnold's lamp nnld’s cars, l I I and with ii fell so softly; it looked a little weary and indifferent, yet very lovely. Sidney was dressed in white, with extreme simplicity, but with exquisite taste, and no dress could have been more becoming to her than the soft flowing folds of Indian mus~ lin trimmed with s profusion'of‘costly lace. There was always an nfi'ectation of sim- plicity about Miss Arnold's attire, the Ashford gossips said smon themselves, rather spitefully; but her resses, how- ever simple, were invarisbly of such ma~ tcrial that they were costly, and they al- ways fitted perfectly and were very be- coming. She had been waiting about a quarter of an hour when her father came in, hur- riedly apologised for the delay, and,wra - ping his daughter in her white cloak, led her out to the carriage. “I think I mustget a chaperon for you, Sidney," he said with a litte laugh. as they drove away. “What do you thinkl" Sidney laughed also. “I don't think 1 want one, swered, “and we arevery happy together, papa, just you and I." "Yes." he said ruefully. “But soon there will be only ‘I,'Sidney, and no 'you and then what shall poor ‘I' do?" The distance from the Gray House to the Royal George Hotel, where the As- sembly Rooms were, was but short; but runny carriages were waiting to deposit " she sn- P saw them as if they belonged to a dream- vvorld in which she was Irving. “Strange thing for the Squire to let his wife come here alone to night!" said one of her partners, as they were resting dur- ing a waltz, sitting in a recess from which they had a good view of the ball room. “He was tired," Sidney answered wearily, slowly moving her white fan to and fro. “Not a very good reason, is it? She is awfully handmme. Every one is talking of her. Greville seems I beg your pardon, Miss Arnold; Ireally forgotâ€"â€"" He broke off, coloring hotly in great con- fusion. _ “Don't apologise," Sidney returned, with a smile. “If you were going to say that Frank admires her very much, you are quite right; he does.” “Every one admires her: \Vlmt a pretty little thing Miss Duo"? 7.! His lordship seems smitten." “f”- ' ‘ Hwy 8, r Sidney's eyes stew , . w 1... seed in the direction in i.\ .c Ilgw‘d,‘ Joking, and rested on Dolly, inf.) was dancing un- weariedly and evidently thoroughly en- joying her first ball. Her partner was Lord de la Peer, 8. tall slim young fellow with a smooth closely cropped dark head and a budding moustache, who seemed to have eyes for no one but his pretty little partner. Suddenly Sidney rose. “Do you mind not finishing this dance, Mr. Ernel" she said. “It is so warm here. I_should like to go out for a little while." “I will find you a quiet spot," he an- swered, smiling. “I often spend two or three days here, you know, and know the mysteries of the labyrinth.” He piloted her skilfully through the billows of silk and lace and tulle, and led her out of the ball room, across a passage, and on to a lobbyâ€"u. large, square, dimly lighted landing, with one large window overlooking the street. With a little sigh of relief, Sidney sank down on the old- fashioned window-seat. The dim light and cool air Were intensely refreshing after the heated atmosphere of the ball room. 0p- posite to the window a door stood partly leading into a little sitting room where the gas was lighted, but turned down rather low, and from which came the mur- muring sound of voices. ' “Very jolly here is it not?" Mr. Erne said, leaning against the window and look- ing out into the street. “How queer and remty it looks, Miss Arnold!" Sidney turned her head languidly and looked out. The scene below was "queer and pretty," as he said. The moon was at the full, and the snow had ceased fall- ing; the street was comparatively quiet and deserted; only now and then a dark figure passed over ‘the white surface; the quaint old gsbled houses rose dark and stem looking; one or two windows were lighted, but it was already late, and most were in darkness. It was a quaint study in black and white, full of light and sha- tbeir {migm ‘nd the Docwr" Wham“ 5 dow, while from the hall of the hotel a had to wait patiently till his turn came. Lookin out, Sidney glanced at the bril- liant] ightcd hotel; and in the entrance hall s e saw Frank waiting, flushed, eag- er, and excited, looking very haudsomoin his evening dress, a white camellia in his button hole. “I see Frank," Doctor Arnold said, smiling, “waiting impatiently,Sidney and no doubt anathematisinir me." Sidney smiled faintlyâ€"a pale, almost sorrowful smile. She knew for whom Frank was waiting so impatiently, and thstjust in front of them was Sibyl's well- sppointed carriage, the snow resting lighb ly on the servants' handsome liveries. But she said nothing; nor was there any surprise on her face when, their mrriage being at last able to drive up to the porch she found that Frank had disappeared ; for her quick glance had seen him go up an] l the wide carpeted staircase beside a tall «1 5 white clad figure, whose long glis I train lay heavilyupon the red bsize w ' i; hicli covered the stain. "Why, Frank must have grown tired of waitingl', said Doctor Arnold, as be escorted his daughter into the “I am . dear." broad red glow fell on the pavement in front of it. Presently the music from the hall room ceased; the waltz was over, and Sidney rose regretfully. “You need not move, Miss Arnold," the young man said,smiling. “Unless you want to dance the next,you are safe hersx No one knows of this retiring place but myself, I think." “I won't dance the next," Sidney ro- turued, smiling a little. “I am very tired, and it is aqusdrille; my partner won't mind, I dare say." “ I'm not sure of that! “I don’t lightly, “and it is too dark to see here. But I am quite sure no sensible pe Who is it?" let me keep you Mr. Erna." Rather reluctantly the young man went quite know," Sidney said rson would object to miss a quadrille. Don't as if he had somethingto say to her, then 1 moved away wi‘hout having uttered a __._ - _...__â€".._.-.__.___ __.._4 “ HOLY JOB.” â€"- word. A few minutes sfteawsrds Sid- TM 3","; or . 3.. O‘pwn who Utter ney had seen him beside Mrs. Rutledge, looking haggard and miserable, his face changing at a word or look from her. How cruel she was, Sidney thouzht bitterly, as she rested her white brow against the cold pans of glsss and looked out dresmilv into the quiet streetâ€"how cruelâ€"as cruel asshe was beautiful] She played with Frank, torturing him, drive ing him half mad with pain and misery one day, and raising him to the seventh heaven the next. How could she do it? the girl wondered How would it all end? Not even Sidney herself could have told the reasons which had made her ac- cept Frank Greville for her future hus- band on that day when he had come to l Miss Neil's engagement. fond of him, feud with that affection; which had grown up with her since they had been boy and girl playmates together, (I ' l‘ ' ‘ . . . an WmCh was 1885 may than hate emu i spare time to preaching, interspersed vviih to change into the love that men and wo- men feel when they love “closest and sweetest." It may have been her own pily Frank; and, when he begged her to save him from himself, she had yielded, hoping to save him from yet greater mis~ cry, and to'save not him only. learned that Sibyl Neil's betrothed, against whom Frank had uttered such desperate threats, was not StephenDaunt, it was too late, her word had been given, and Sidney would not draw back; she would be true to Frank in the spirit and to the letter; she might save him from sin and misery perhaps. Sidney Arnold little guessed, as she sat in the dim light leaning her pretty head against the win- dow, how soon her freedom would be given to her and in what terrrble circum- stancesl The quiet and solitude were inexpressi- the forced smiles f ide away, the little hands droop in utter weariness. From the ball room came the sound of gay dance musicâ€"the band was playing the Madame Angot usdrilles; without the streetWasquieb an deserted. Throughtlie open door on the opposite side of the landing came a confused murmur of voices, which at first Sidney did not heed, until' they rose louder, and she re- cognized Frank’s voice, eager, passionate, now threatening, now pleading, mingling with awoman's voice, a. cloarmetallic voice, speaking angrily but unsteadily, as if fear mingled with anger Sidney rose hurriedly. Whither could she go to escape hearing that which was not meant for her to hear? What should she do? Ought she to go into the room an? interrupt them’l What was going on As she stood trembling and irresolute, some one came hurriedly up a back stair- case, and, catching sight of the slender white figure on the dim landing, hastily approached her. - “Your carriage is here," Stephen Daunt’s Voice said. “Come do not linger. It is worse than foolish." Sidney drew back, trying to speak; but her dry parched lips were powerless. “Come!” be repeated imperatively, tak- ing her hand. “Come, do notâ€" Why, Sidney! " “There is some mistake,” she said, drawing back. “Yes!” he muttered. “What are you doing here, child? Why don’t you go back to the ball room? I was looking for Sibylâ€"for Mrs. Rutledge. Shall I take you back?" “I need not trouble you," Sidney said prcully, moving away from him: and, just as she uttered the words, the sitting room door was thrown open violently, a man rushed out, dashed past Sidney, brushing against her, and disappearing down the side staircase. 1y lighted as the landing was, Sidney re- cognized Frank Greville; and a terrible dread almost overpowered her. startled exclamation Stephen turned away and entered the room; and with a reluc- tance and terror she could not overcome Sidney turned her eyes towards the open door. But there was nothing there; she saw only a beautiful woman in shining white drapery, with diamonds glittering on her throat and wrists, who ran to Stephen and caught his arm with both hands and raised her agitated, ghast- ly pale face to his. Sidney did not waitfo seeor hear more; she turned away and groped her way back to the ball room, where she found that they were dancing 3 waltz, and that her partner was looking for her. Neither Frank Greville nor Mrs. Rut- ledge resppeared in the ball room that evening; and it was nearly two hours later when Stephen came in, looking rather pale, but easy and languid as usual, to give his mother his arm tolead her to the carriage. “Hasn't it been a lovely ball?" Dolly said, as Lord de la Poe:- wrs pod her in her white cloak, and some of. er cavalier performed the same office for Sidney. “Have you enjoyed it, Sidney?" "Yes," Sidney answered, wndering if there were such a sensation as enjoy- ment in the world. It seemed to her that there was nothing but misery and unrest. m as oos'rnwzn. W A Phenomenal Diamond. A henomensl diamond has fallen to the lot of’s fortunate digger at the Kimberle Mine, South Africa In weight is 30% carats ; but unfortunately, it does not possess their purity of color, or rather air sence of color, which is the first desidentr um in a diamond. Its value is said to be ""Yv “5 SlduFl'v 1°“ Flo“- le‘m’d he” ' about £3 000 ; whereas the far smaller tty headsgarnst the window and clacdipomrgfiod“ gem, found in the “m, r eyes weerily, for indeed her excuse of ' In t a, fatigue was perfectly justifiable; she felt we I n m y” withthat mental “1" 0g ' t f wing wear-inset which is so much harder to bear n on u an the "he 0 I u than any physial fatigue, however great, be weary to the last degree Christian clurrzy ts scalar. also thing. It will nineties-s sppuar to the superficial observer a very bani thingâ€"for it has the mango to refuse. " Yes, they are samurai hints," said andthls year it would have an unusual law owing totwe or threecircum- umatin estimation with it. One was that the Earl de la Poes- had announced the woods-niacin the young lady pur- his intention of being pruent; and, as he Marta-y'all m uterus. “in was young. wealthy, and unmarried. ths you think the helium ere eequ on loâ€"Em ladiesth that therewss anions may!" the tiller. "They In r thallme inducement to trek ons‘s M an supplied with the ‘old mind's beaten the occasion. Andsmthercsnse wedding ‘ burner, a not invention." g for excitement was the fact that Squire "Why is it called the 'uld maid's wrinkle. 's beautiful youngwifs would ding" button l " “ Bissau it never corm- . make first public appearance; and 91.”. ‘ lugsrwutbecunositysbownsstowhst the young people of the neighbmhml l i “It does not matter, papa," Sidney 3snswered, lingering a little ; she did not l want to follow that long white train im mediately. "Come, my dear; what are you wait- so ingforl The ladies' room is up stairs." cited, “Yes, papa. I was just noticing how pretty the lamps look through the snow!" , Indy Eva and Daily were leaving the strange feverish lustre, ; ladies‘ disrobing room as Sidney reached so incoherent that the ;it. With thequ Sibyl. Rutledgo;snd a faint feeling of disgust at the then fused as the young girl waste her beauty, that he had taken too much wine. ,she almost started as her eyes fell upon Sibyl, so wonderftu buntiful didshe danced together had been a very l ' was flushed, his eyes were brigh and bias can . Only once that evening had Frank ap~ preached her, and the one valse they had dreary performance. Frank's manner had been a. so hasty and nervous and ex- t Sidney had been struck by “,ng and considerably alarmed. His face too t with a was I know w girlhad at first fag, "That'st .rhe we I felt, but after 'i e , teen times you won't raise over, he had taken Sidney back to ; thought. Indeed, you'll have to stop to her seat, lingered a moment by her side, ‘ ago, was valued by its owners at £100,000. But the pop- whst it will fetch, and there are certainly very few persons in the world who weak! I lock by such an enormous sum for the j doubtful advantage of possessing such a thing. Cw First-shod girl, with sudden interest: “Oh, I forgot to tell you that l was en» up 0 "My?" I b lo d0!" on have been W or four- think of his name." Hasty as his movements were and dim- r r l her dazed, maddsned, heart broken at. angusih which made her more inclined to . l f I When she ' l bly grateful to Sidney; it was so pleasant. to close her burning, aching eyes, to let‘ 4 ‘i l i 1 With a , to do that which on terrible , "0h, es,srid I unso happy Idon't‘ Lost a Snip and who saved acme. Capt. Joseph E Dut'nn, the senior Captain in the service of the Allan line of steamers, died in’tho hospital at Mon real recently. He Was about 56 years of age. During his servm‘e M C unm-dore of the fine vessels of the Allan fleet he crossed the Atlantic over 400iriines, and conid boast that he nt‘Yrr last or stranded a ship. While' his record as a skilful sailor was unimpeachsble, be Was almost as well known for his ability and saris-st- , ness as a Christian evangelist, and during ‘hisl service at see he made it a part of his uty to conduct religious services i on his ships. The Captain wasa man tall, portly. and well proportioned, with rather cl isely cropped hair, full grey.bearded face, keen, deep-set eyes, and had a voice full» and ; sonorous, with just enough of a Lanca- i shire accent to give it a quaint turn now and then. In each port he devoted his IVisiting the sick and helping the unfor- " tunate seamen in more material ways. Says one who has ssiled with him for a number of years, “ He never goes ashore without being fully equipped for the service of preaching the Gospel." A passenger who crossed with him, when Capt. Duttou commanded the Prus- sian, says : “ 0n the first Sunday out we heard the ship's bell calling to prayers, and naturally supposed that, as usual, the Sunday morning service would be of the . stereotyped characterâ€"the reading of the morning prayer of the Episcopal Church. We found, however, the saloon crowded with an eager congregation, and the Cap- tain, officiating at the organ, led the way in the singing, for he possesses a fine voice and knows how to use it. This done, the usual prayers and passages of Scrip‘urc were read, and then followed a short ser- mon of an interesting nature. This was not the only surprise, however. Capt. Dutton announced that in the afternoon a Bible class would be held in the steer- ago, and that in the evoning a prayer moctin in the forecastle would take place. Mindfu of the fact, however, that persons of diverse faiths were on board, the an- nouncement was also made that a priest on board would conduct a service for those of the Catholic faith. In the afternoon the organ found its way into the steerago, lwhere 800 people were crowded, and the deck above was equally thronged by those who could find neither sitting nor stand- ing room. On the second Sunday we were at anchor near Quebec, and Crpt. Dutton preached a sermon from the words: ‘80 He bringeth them into the dos-red haven.’ The voyage was over, but. there were many on board the Prussian then who testify that it was too short ; an un- i usual experience, indeed, even in.tho best ‘ of ships." “ The sailors called him ‘ Holy Joc,’ ” said the Rev. H. A. Cook, the pastor of the Seaman's Bethcl, "and I think he rather likes the litle. In Montreal Cript. Dutton baptized several of the onus of ships lying there. I don't know whether he has a license as a preacher, but I sup- pose he feels he has a commission from his Master, more imperative, to d: this.’ At the Boston Baptist Betlrcl he lecturâ€" ed during the winter of 1878 on “The Ancient Tabernacle,” illustrated by a model made by himself of the structure, the utensils. altar, ark, &c. Minuter describing the building, Sm, lie enforced the lessons which were suggested by the figures and types of the Tabernacle, rc- ferring with astonishing reminess to numbsrless passages of Scripture by chap- ter and verse, and exhibiting a really rc- niarkablo knowledge of the sacred v: ilulllo. - Reluctance to Make Wills. It is curious the antipathy which some people, however regular and methodical they may be in othermatters, have to make ‘ their wills. The more money they have to leave, the more averse they seem to be ght to be a. matter of duty ; but. no, they put it off from day to day, until the last dread moment comes, and then, often it is too late. A man in health and strength, seldom if over thinks of death, but always as if he had years of life before him. So he may, but. he may be shot down by a drunken loafer, or run over by a waggon in crowing the street. If he has made his will, he is, so far as worldly affairs are concerned, pre- pared toquit; but if he has not, what endless Worry and annoyance may he not leave behind him 1 Jim Fisk, with all his millions to leave, never made his will until he lay bleeding to death on a sofa, in the Grand Hotel, New York, and it was their written on shelf sheet of note- ps r. The writer once had occasion to go to Doctor's Commons to look at a will. It was easily found, as he knew the year and the drty of the death, but what sur- prised him was that the will was dated only the day before the man's death. This was curious, from the fact that the teststor had been a lawyer, and oneof the most exact and unctilious in his profou- ionâ€"one who rad probably drawn up hundreds of wills for clients, and had ad- vised msny hesitating ones to make their wills. And yet, although he had oat wealth to dispose of, for years he h put off doing what he had advised others not to delay in, until the day before liisdcath. To make the matter worse, he had drawn the will himself, and, although a man of great experience, he had drawn it so am- biguously that it gaVe rise to long and costly litigation. Anothercsse of “putting off" was that ofaman whose only child, a daughter. had married against his wishes. He had driven her from home, and resolved to leave all his wealth to a distant rels'ive. He, however, dell ed making his will, as he was hale and ty. One day he had a stroke of paralysis, and at once sent for his lawyer to draw up his will. This was done, ut before he could sign it, he had a second stroke, and although his mind was active, his hand refused to hold the pen, and he died with the will on signed. A use of “Ghanaian” is reported from Thsl. India. A manna amuck ins small village occupied by railway work- man. He was caught, wnthhal, and confined in a guard-nun. Suddenly lbrcaking away, he snatched a wntrys lbayonet and stabbed him severely, but give it a secondlbefore he couldmttsck any other perwns‘of N lbs was shot, and his body was afterward lbumed. ~ GAMERS!) WI’I‘TICISIS. A hot~bedÂ¥â€"'l.'ne one 'over an oven. : v“ M A saloon in Muscatine draped in mourn‘ remntly, showed the inscrip~ u'un : “ egood die young.“ among the mp0 on the door. Gvsce (whispering): briefs your partner s got, Mary 2 " Mary (ditto) : “Yes, unfortunately he shines at the wrong end." New York has had a deg-show, a horse- show. and now a tramp-show is in win templstrou. ,The irs-np think: up about _> time they gay-e him a show. At great heights, Popular Science Monthly says. dogs lose their p in: of barking. it is a line scheme ihx n, to keep your dog in the gtl’l'ul, or iie him up to the swaying limb of a tall and lonely tree. -- 13 this mm of your all-wan] Til-cont suits, Mr. Issues l" “ Yes. mine fri- iidt, dot vos von of dour peautrful zuiis." ‘ Brit it's all cotton." “Dot can not be hellupml. Dotisa ‘all-ivool scbeuiy~drm shout zuit.‘ 1 lisf dot name given it myselluf." ..__._.___-, -b so A C(‘It‘sllhl llelle. A Chinese belle is a curiosity to China- men as Well as to Christians. Evui her own country-women look upon her with as much Wollllu‘ as admiration. One reason of this is her rarity. Belles in China are rare birds of rare plumage. No ordinary community can afford the luxury of possessing more than one or two such dazzling channels. The approach of a hello not only iliit- ters the hearts of the gilded youthâ€" the sons of msndsrins and men of wealthâ€"â€" but draws upon her glances of envy and admiration from members of all classes of society, especially the fairer half of it. Fashion is the father or mother of dos- pots, and it China bcllc's tiny foot pressesus ruthlessly upon the necks of her subjects as the slipper of an American beauty, or the still larger slice of the English professional wslkist. What arts and sciences does a Chinese woman have to iirastor before she can take her degree as a hello? 0f moi-id qualities she need possess only that one necessary to the Christian lawyerâ€"cheek. She must have nerve enouin to look the public in the face, and to endure any amount of praise without betraying her satiety. A Celestial bellc's most. striking miirks, however, are not moral. Iler move- ments, restivo yet restrained, must give evidence of ii great deal of suppressed animation. As speech with the nude sex is of course forbidden licr, lli'l‘ features, eyes, cheeks, and silent lips must all be eloquent. I-Iev skin must have great firmness of texture to endure the con- tinual coatings of white paste and vor- milion paint which the laws of her being enjoin. llcr fccf must not. exceed three inches in If ngtli, or one inch in breadth. The finger nails of her last three lingers must be its long us their fingers. 'l‘licso llast two points are the especial glory of Chinese fashion. Besides these traits, ii Colcslial bcllc ‘must have the instinct and art of ii. good historical iichlist. This she needs in order to revive and make attractive the fashions in dress of tliri-c thousand years ago, for in China ludies' fashions clinirgo even more slowly than Ill our \\'cs'uin towns. Meir, strangely enough, are more progressive, and their present. style of dress does not. date back further than 1 two hundred voiri's. l The daily life of a Chinese iii-11., does ‘ not differ much from iliiit of ii lady of ' fashion in the (lays of I’r-pys or the young- or Walpole. Suspicious of the iii--i~ii:ng mists, she never rises before noon, Breakfast is served in llnl'UWll room by her servants. This Iniigiiiil inqu ovr-i', she begins the serious business of her life. Hair by linir, supported by three or four hair-dressers, slic attacks the tangled locks in whose adornment sliu iiirds lrcr chicf pride. Both mistress and miiids labor for llll‘f‘D or fours hours, with snatches of rest, nird, thoroughly exhausted by their task at six o'clock, sit down to their diiincr. I‘ldcli province has its scpiiriite method of dress- iiig the hair, eighteen in all, and ilio fashion of a \vomnrr’s liiiir bctmys her residence. The liundsomrst cnifl‘uro is worn by the women of Khan l.u, that boasts the beautiful cities of Son Chow and Sliiurgliiii. The hair is drawn brick from the forehead and temples, and tied close to the neck with crimson silk rib- bons. Below the ribbons it f.rlls about afoot, and spreads, curving outward at the end, so as not to touch the shoulders. This method of dressing the hair robs :old age of half his balcful power, for a iwoniiin with this coillurc, seen from be- hind, may be sixteen or sixty, and no one ltllo wiiicr. Jewels, flowers, and laces i deck the dainty brui ls. Such, and so iiuirvcllolisly made, in the beauty of the dominant nation in Asia. Strangely enough, the hello in the only woman in China who has a slizitluw of freedom. She is allowed to go to theatres, and even to pit visits, with for less suro vcillrinco thaii'hcr lens favournil sisters. There is something iii the black patch that checks any rituempt at irripropriety. A belle of course ncvcr wnlks, rind rarely waddlos, but is almost always bonic in n. sedan-chair. She is an adopt in the language of the eyes, and through those silent windows can signal more per- suasivc arguments than fame with her hundred tonguwi.â€"â€" Wong (Jilin. Foo. â€"â€"-â€"â€"â€"â€"oc<.~>eO'â€"-â€"vâ€"â€"~ A Brave Soldier. There Mo in the present day, very fre- quently, ttntiics raised in France to por- petuatc the memory of men who liiii'u, perhaps, scarcely merited such a token of national esteem and gratitude. lliit this is not the cure with tlriit just unveiled in the Lorraine to the memory of the girl- lant (ion, Illsgucritte, who did a soldier's duty so nobly on the disastrous Sedan battle-field. The circumstances under which he met his death, although pretty generally known, bear recspitulstion, for his brai'cry was such that it is narrated that the llennan Emperor liimrclf, on witnessing the despairing efforts made by the Frenchgencrnl andhismcn, wasrnovcd to express his rudiirirstinii, cxclairiiing to those around him, “Uh 2 let braves gens.” The status coiirincrnoraw- one of the most fatal days in the Franco-Prov tian war. Geti. Maguraritie, who corn- .manded a cavalry division, was instruct- lcd to keep open the roads between Sedan land the Belgian frontier. lie brought ’ his men into line on a plateau swept by g the enemy's fire, and win on the point of {charging when I bullet mutilated his jaw ‘siid carried away his tongue. Although unable to win: vrrbsl instructions. he rc- fuuincd at his pull, sword in hand, urging ibis ini-ii by signs to continue the hope j less struggle, and only wristâ€"null to be I conveyed; from the field when the last chance of success was gone. «0“ W 1 While digging for the foundation of a 2 new hospital at llsvre recently some work- lmen brought to light a quantity of human Iberia. The are believed to date fruit )the period o the revocation of the edict 7 antes, when the Protestants Were frompellcd to bury their dead by night ’ sandy in their own house». .9- t. â€"r! s “ What lovely ‘ .i