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"i... . . . ROMANCE or BY JAMES GRE§S\VO0D. I had set up for myself as a master cab- nian in a small way, my “rolling stock” consisting of a single four-wheeler, with a couple of horses, and at the time I lived at Gambcrwell, not a great distance from the Green. My stable, however, was a few hundred rods from my place of residence, whathad been at one time a gentleman‘s coach house, at the end of a. large garden warpproached by a narrow lane. ‘ate one night in the summer time I was hailed by a fare in the neighborhood the Elephant. and Castle, at Sewington. had no intention of doing any more busi- ness that night, and was jogging along to- ward home, but as the gentleman who called to me was seemingly going the same way as myself, I, of course, had no objec- tion to earning anothershilling or two. He looked like aseafarerâ€"not a common sailorâ€"but a mate erhaps. He wore a. heavy, blue pilot java, and a black silk handkerchief, and a. round cap with a peak. He came running along the road after me, and before I could draw up he opened the door of the cub and jumped in and shut the door with a slam, and as though in a hurry. ‘f Where shall I take you, sir '1” I asked him. through the front window. , “Drivestruightcn,” was his answer, “and whip up that old crook in the shafts, I want to catchâ€"â€"â€"-” 1 did not hear what it was he wanted to catch, but I doove along fast ‘up the. Wal~ worth road, and presently lie;p,ulle,d the check string. ' "‘ Isn't that another cab coming on be- hind ?" he asked. “ I didn’t hear it.” ‘_‘ But I do. Take the first turning, left or right it doesn’t matter, and work round a bit to get back ilito the high road. Don’t be afraid as to your fare, we shan’t fall out over a. shilling.” ‘ I had not much experience of cab driving, but it happened that I had plied several times at. the East End, in the neighborhood of the docks, and more than once’ a. sailor had jumped into my cab, to be driven off and got out of harm’s way, from wmen and sharpers he had fallen in with. It was not near any shipping where I had picked up my present rider, but what with his being dressed in nautical rig and his desiring to get away from somebody, put it into my mind thatit was a similar case, and I did as rcqucstcdwithout thinking there was any- thing extraordinary about it. After wind- ing in and out among the side streets for a few minutes he stopped me when we were near a quiet- little public house and got out, and he invited me to come in and have a drink. He was free with his money. Qn such occasions the fare who treats you does not expectyou to go beyond three-pence, but tl.e s .imrâ€"«I shah call him so at presentâ€"called for two sizes of hot brandy, one for himself and the other for me, and two four-penny cigars. He changed a sovereign to pay for what he ordei‘cd, and I noticed that he did not take the coui from his waistcoator trous- ers pocket, but from an inner pocket of his jacket. I was standing by his side andI have quick ears, and I plainly heardachink, as though the coin he took froiii the pocket was but one of many there. Although it was a quiez, public house, it was olic that bore a. queer character, as I happened to be aware. A man and a Woman were standing at the bar drinking. She \‘as an old \voman. They did not take any notice of me or the sailor, but when the latter p.iid for what wcliad with a sovereign, carried loose in the pocket of his jacket, the man went out, and in a minute or two in camcayouugwoman who knew the old one. The young one was flashily dressed and very good looking, and all the time she was talking in a lively way to the old woman slicwas glancing over to the sailor who by that time was drinking his second six pcn’ orth of brandy) as though to make liiiiiundcr- stand that she wouldu t take it amiss if he were to speak to her. Certainly it was not his good looks that attracted her. lie was well built enough and ba‘rely thirty, as well as one iiiigiit judge, but his face was of the scowling sort, and a zxg-zag scar ran from the corner of his life eye to the nostril on that side, and the nostril had a small piece out of it, and the eyelid was pinched up, giving him a EIUISKLL‘ illlllt'ill'dllcc. Presently he spoke to the girl and she had lint bran ly and water and the old “'olllilll had some, and the sailor lizul smite more and then the old woinln went to the door and told lll.‘ my horse was starting and I went to see and found it was noth~ iug of the kind, but uS l turned back to the bar I plainly saw the girl put something that- was held between her finger and thuiilo into the sailors glass. of cnirse l knew what t‘. 0 game was, and for my on ll sake as much as his, thought it was time I made a noise inthe matter, especially ~ as before I had time to prevent it w he took up the glass and drained il. I took the old woman aside and told her what 1 had seen, and threatened that un- le<s they rich-e l out at once and quietly, I w i i‘d drive 1‘ )iul [ i thc I’olicc st ttioii, which was only two streets oil, and tell all about it. It wasn't good enough for them to mike a fuss, but, as they the young one said spitcfiiliy : “ lle will be a lot betier oil' for leaving me. won't be ‘: But I‘ve got your number, and I knew where yor. live, and if I hear oi anything tomorrow, I‘ll c-mi: forward and no you .1 good turn. Mark inc." l‘uit ldidu't care for that. I had been guilty of a crooked thing yet, tililil l mean to begin then. My sailor was getting on toward being drunk this time, and wanted to wait till the girl came backmhe hadn't heard a word of what she said to incâ€"but I got him to the cab again. The stuff they had given him did not seem to have taken much cilcrt on him, and when I asked him where. I should drive him to, he said he had an appointment near the Elephant at 1 o'clock, and so that I landed him there at that time it didn‘t matter which way I went meanwhile. I thought that was qurcr. but half-drunk- en people have strange \\ lllllis‘ at times, and cabnicii have to do their best with them. Ii was a line night, and I drove him easily along, so as to wear away the half- liour it wanted to 1 o'clock, but when it was that time and I got. down tolc: him out, he was either insensihlc, or so fast asleep that 1 could make nothing of him. Of course, I know what fought to have done. I should have taken him to the Police never and l lirpfiawflssn were leaving, l l ? ~3, ,; . .-.--...V- -7- .. _’... might do better for him than that. Therel I went back toward the stable, looking was a spare bed stony own. plum, and hellch and right before I turned into the lane would be more comfortable there than in a that led to it, to see that no one observed Police station cell, and, very likely, as he _ me, for all the world as though I had com- had money, he wouldn’t mind paying for his lodging. ‘ l mitted a crime, and unbarred the door again. I drewa pail of water and had the straw . l . .. . u , Anyhow I drove him to Chamberwell, and i mat on the stones mopping the stuns from to the stable, where I put my cab up, mean- it, when a slight noise at the door startled 1 ing to wake him up so uehow then and take ; me, and looking up I saw a man; , him to the house. But when I was a colored uilk handkerchief, and tied up got one of my l lamps to see him, he was still in the same 3 1,3,1 seen him before somewhat He was a ‘leild'nsleel’ Emmi "-"d lymg 0“ the Cal) 50‘“, l threadbare looking chap in a. buttoncddip It flashed to my mindinstantly that I but hidden by the lappels of his jacket. there ' black coat “(La shabby mu bucklmiu i l in it a quantity of money. 1 un‘ied a corner of the hand kerchief and was a bit. startled to find that the money was all in gold. I couldn’t guess how much there was, but as much as would have filled a. pint pot. I tried all Icould to move him but did not succeed, and he was too heavy for me to lift, so I did whatl thou lit was the next best thing for him. I ooscned his handkerchief and made his head comfort-'- able with a spare crib cushion, and cov- ered him over with the horse-rug, intend- l ing to comeback to him very early, to seel ‘ ,, u . . _. l 1 , - ~, if he li'ad‘ariv sense in him, and to let him' kno“ i “"1 I gomg on I It It it moppmf’ have a few hours in bed if he wished. The handkerchief with the money in it I took for safety. .It was then about half-past l in the morning” There was a bar and a chain with a padlock on the outside of the coach-house door, and I made that secure and went home. .But I couldn’t sleep, and at 5 .o’clockâ€"it was broad daylightâ€"«I was up again, and went back to the coach- liousc, to findâ€"what? Whv, that it had been broken into from the outside, and that my man was gone ! Nor was :that the most alarming part of it. There had been a fight there.l There were blood marks on the floor, and on the cab-linings, and on the mat inside a pool of congealed blood as large as 'a saucer. And, lying on the mat, too, there .was the knife the mischief had been done withâ€"a dagger-knife of the clasp kind, with a' the pinch of tlullaby’tO. Your fare, you know ; the man you was so anxious about ! spring back and a blade about 'four inches in length. The blade was stained as well as the handle. . I was terribly alarmed, and my first im- ‘pulsc was to communicate with the police, “ I will leave everything as it is,” I said, ‘ and go and tell them all about it, and they caii‘isee for themselves and form their own conclusions. ” But. when I came to think “ what all about it ” meant I hesitated. No one could have been more innocent of iniquitous iii- tention, but when I repeated to myself the story I should have to relate at the Police station it seemed as much likea “ liatchup” as anything could. I had not even'takeu the man up as a fare in the ordinary way. He had hailed me as he was running along the road at midnight, and the only direction 11‘: gave me was “straighten.” But, whenhe had gone some distance, he no longer wish- ed to go “ st night on,” but to thread the dark streets to escape pursuers. But, then again, he is not so desperately bent on doing so, but that when he got among the back streets he bids me to stop at a public-house, where. while drinking at the bar with him, I see two women apparently drugging his liquor. After that, I find him dead asleep or inseiisible in my cab, and I think it best to convey him to my own abode : not to my private house, however. but to the stable, which is a secluded place, two hundred yards or to distant; and then, next morning, I dis- cover sanguiiiary evidence that he has been oully dealt with, and he has disappeared, andI have all his moneyâ€"or, at least, as much as I choose to own toâ€"tied up in a pocket handkerchief l ' As I have already stated, the padlock had been broken, but I had closed the coach- liouse doors and made them fast as well as I could with the bar and the broken chain- aiid was on my way to the Station House, when I found myself walking slower an, slower. The evidence seemed to point to my hav- inga murder to answer for. If I went to the police I should certainly be suspected and detained, for it was impossible to say how long a. time, and meanwhile my business would be ruined. How was it possible for the mystery to be satisfactorily explained, that I should be completely exonerated? How was it to be accounted fenâ€"that sonic- body had broken into the coach-house and iiiurderously attacked a man, it perfect stranger, and one who they could lave no grudge against, and after thatâ€"that the vic- tim, with his bleeding wounds, should walk off without- attracting attention or making the outrage known, or saying a word to any- one? What was best for me to do I did not know, but. it certainly seemed like running my head into danger to go to the policeâ€"at all events, until I had given myself time to think over the matter a little. So I turned back, and was walking the way I came, when [met the night policeman, whom I knew, coining off duty. “Morning, .\lr. l’ettcrick,” says he smil- ing, "been in the wars. haven’t you? ’ “ What makes you think so?” says I, feel ing myself turn pale. “Only there is a smear of blood on your cheek. ” says the policeman, “ or praps it's paint?" “Oh, that’s more likely. I‘ve been paint- ing," I replied, not knowing what else to say at the moment. and rubbing my check with my hand, aiid he went. off. I wis conscious that I had committed a great. blunder. It was blood. It was on the back of my hand, a mere smudge, but unmistakable. I must have got it oil'the «nib, or oil~ the handle of the knife when I picked it up to look at it. I should have told the friendly night policeman all about it, and taken his advice. not told a lie about it. Now, what Would the man say if called on'.’ “I met him in the morning, between G and half-past, and seeing his face smeared with blood, I mentioned it to him, when he turned pale and rubbed it off, saying it was not blood. but red paint, as he had been painting.” Why, unless to conceal niy guilt, sliouldI make such a false statement? If I could but make sure that the assault- ed man, or anyone concerned in attacking him, would not turn up again. It would be may then and manifestly the best thingI could do, to say nothing about what had happened, but to clear away all traces of the fray and keep the money. Come to think of it, it wasn't likely there would be any bother about it. Those who had broken into the coacirhousc would, of courst. be the last to come forward, and since the iiijii'sd man had gone all or been carritd oi? without any noise, the chances station, but it came into my head that l M“. t jgmumu‘k mm. d“,- Wm, “1‘ mm. “ You are hard at it early, gov‘ner,” he quietly remarked, asI looked up. I~ felt my knees trembling, but made him no reply, thinking that if he found was surly, he would go away. ‘ But he , didn‘t. " - ‘ - i l '. “ Had an accident, mister was his next l remark. cuNo’ '3!) “There seems a good about, that’s all.” “ “'ell, the horse cut himself as we was ‘ bringing him in last night, if you wish to; sprinkling of blood “Fancy that, now,”'and coming in. he took up the spring-backed knife I had laid on the ledge. “ Is this what the poor animal cut himself with, mister?” And he l l i laughed. I l “ 'l‘liitt’s my knife. Put it down.” “I am aware that it is your knife, gov’nor. I saw it iii your hand last night.” “ You saw it in my hand? “how ‘3” “ Oh, I see, it is such along time ago you don’t remember! } Wliy,,at the Leaf and Crown. '"You‘ w‘a'sn’t there, I suppose? Well, there are not more than about half a dozen Witnesses that you was, so you are! quite safe in swearing it. But, I say, mister, what a. beastly cruel thing to kill him ‘5” “ To kill him l To kill who? \Vhat do you mean 2’” . “ Wlio‘Zâ€"Why, the chap that Poll gave Making sure I knew what your game with him was, I felt anxious about the poor fel ; low, too, and thought I would give you a early call just to inquire after her health, and see if there was a chance of going snacks in what you robbed him of. But money won’t square it now. “’liat have on done with him ?” _ “ \Vith him l” " ' “Oh, with it, if you like better. body.” I felt dazed and ready to faint for a moment, and then it suddenly flashed on me that I had discovered a. key to the mystery. Who was the murderer? This was the man I had seen with the old woman when the sailor and myself first went; into a public house. No doubt, although he ' went away, he still kept watch, and knew all about the drugging, he and the old woman and the young one being of one gang. One of them may have heard the click of the loose goldiii his pocket, as Iliad, and loath to lose sueha rare haul, this man had followed the cab when I drove awayâ€"I had driven but slowly-~followcd us home to the stable, and, for all I knowgpceped through the chinks of the gates, and saw me making him as com- fortable as I could inside the cal). After that he may have broken in, thinking the man had still the money about him, and pcrhap, was searching for it when the sailor came to his senses ;and then there was a fight and a desperate struggle and bloodshed ! What had become of wounded or murder- ed man was a mystery still, but I felt so cer- tain that my surmise was true that I turned on the fellow and said : “\Ve will have no more talk about it here. \Vc will both go to the Police station, and have our say there.” “That’s the very thing I was going to pro- pose, mister,” said he, “ Come along.” And as he spoke he picked up the knife again and dropped itinto his side pocket. I thought liemeant to conceal it. “ Don’t forget you have got the knife,” I remarked. “ I believe that was the wea- pon the wounding was done with 1” He laughed. “ I’m not a policeman, but, all the same, I can tell you that you had best keep your mouth shut, for all you say will be repeated.” “ You believe this is the very weapon, do you '2 You make that remark, you know, after claiming the knife as your own.” Of course I remembered that I had done so. I had told half a dozen blundcring lies, every one of which was quite unnecessary, and making it seem that I was implicated, if not actually guilty. To account for the blood he had found me in the act ofclearing away, I llllll told the man my horse had cut himself. Th account for the blood-smear on my chegk, I had told the policeman Iliad been usnig red paint. These wouldbc damag- ing evidences brought against me, and in ad- dition to them I had no doubt that the scgundrel who had come spying on me, and the two women he had at his back, were maliciously set against me for balking them of their victim, and the whole gang would only be too glad to swear anything that might do me harm. “)Iake haste,” he .I‘Cllllll’kt’xl, tauntineg ; I you are a long time getting your coat on. “ I was in a mess similar to what you are, I should want to clear myself as soon as I could.” “ If ymi were,” I exclaimed, desperately ; - His [ “ why, you infernal scouiidrel, who has the most tofcar. youorI’.’ You know more about this than I do.” He didn‘t answer: he only stared at me. “ \\'li:it, you are taken aback, and you have got nothing to say to that,” I coutin~ ucd. “ .-\ ruf‘iian of your stamp is capable of daring to try and fix your crime on a man without a stain on his character. How did you spend your hours, let me ask you, between 1'2 o'clock last night and 5 this morning. He gave me an ugly grin before he made answer. . “ What, you are as bad its that, are you? i \Yell ! I've often thought I could never bring myself to help a fellow to the gallows, but you're a black ’un, you are! My crime. was it 2 But where was I between the hours . you name? \Vcll, .\lr. Mau-Without-a- ; Stain as it happened, and lucky for me, I l was in good hands. I was locked up on a ' false suspicion, and let out at 6 :30 this i morning, and came straight here to see you. Now it has come to this. “'c won't go to l the police ; we will have them herc 1" But he went out into the lane, as though to call them, but I sprang afterhim. “'hat he had told me made the horrible entangle- ment worse than ever. “ No 2 no 2 don’t do that. I am sorry I -‘ accused you. if what you state is true. You i l , auv rate. may think what you .ike about it, but I too am innocent.” “ Xot guilty, only shy, eh 2“ -“ Not guilty. or I may be struck dead as I stand for telling a lie, but what- Was you sayin aboutcaboutâ€"going snacks?" _ He laug ed aloud at that. i l “ That's good, for a man without a stain ! { \Vell, what about: it ‘3 How much did‘you ; make by‘ the job 3" l "‘ It is madness for me to make such a} proposition, but are you willing to keep 1 what you have .secni to youiselfhdf I give '3 you twenty pounds? It is adargc sum for: such a. smallsorvice.” . He seemed in the humor now to be amused, and l was not sorry for it. I “ Well, you are the coolest cuss I everl came across. A small service, is itkto save i you from hpngin‘ w!_ ‘A ymall servicenmybo, i but worth more t an twenty pounds to you. i I should think. Makei‘it fifty, and we'll i come to terms." ‘ ' 'i i ‘ ” But- what security: should I haveâ€"“z”, “ Hold hardâ€"«one thing at a time. It is to be fifty. then‘.‘ You have got as much about you 2'” a ' ' ' ' ' H I know where to lay my hands on iffat , . Yes, I’ll say fifty pounds. lint; what security have I that you won't after i all, give information 2" “ The very sound security," he. replied, with a wink and a grill that an accessory after'tlie fact catches it as hot ass. prin- cipal. “ Now, go and lay your hand on it â€"on the coin, I mean, aiid pay up and have done with it.” There was no help for me. I took him to} the house, and he; waited down_stairs while. I went up and couhtcd tilt ' sovereigfis otit'of tlid‘sill’i liziiidk‘bi‘chicf :Lllt gave that to him and he left me, But not for good. IVhen he said, “ Pay up and have done with it,” I made sure that I should hear no more of ; him. My secret seemed safe. It‘ wasn’t likely that such on 'nfi‘principled scoundrel would r84 late what‘he had become acquainted with even to the two wonienLrand ‘share “the money with them, when he cohld hold his tongue and keep it all tohimsclf. But he paid me another visit in less than a month. It \ 'as earlyâ€"J had not yet had breakfast, and he seemed in a great hurry. He demanded more money. I told him I had no more, when he coolly remarked that most likely it was a lie, but, anyhow, if I hadn‘t money, I had money’s worth, and the best thing I could do was to sell my cab and horses. But another fifty be united, and meant having. I had counte-l the money in the handkerchief by that time, and there was a trifle more than two hundred pounds. I had turned it ‘over ‘ in my mind what I should do in the not unlikely event of his persecutiiig me, and had settled it, in my mind. I would sell off my little property, and having no one dependent on me -â€"I had been married, but was then a widowerâ€"and slip off and emigrate. “ I shall be a. ruined man, if I do what you ask,” I said to him. “ You are ruined already,” be made an- swer, with a brutal laugh, “ so it won’t make much difference.” “ But, of course, you will let me have part of what the goods fetch?” Then he seemed to relent a little. “ Look here, now I I don‘t wish to be hard on youâ€"can you gii e me another twenty pounds, sharp ‘2" “Suppose I caii-â€"what then '3" “Just thisâ€"you will never hear any more of me. It is no use asking you to take. my word, but it is a. fact. Give me another twenty pounds downâ€"and we say good by.” Of course, I did not believe him, but he spoke so earnest, itseeiiicd worth the chance so I gave him twenty sovereigns more. He placcdit carefully in his pocket, and then, with a grin, remarked: “I am going to give you a receipt this timeâ€"on paper,” and as he spoke he pro- duced from his greasy old hat a newspaper, and handed it to me, and was gone before I could ask him what he meant by it. ButI soon found out! Naturally I ex- pected to find something printed in the newspaperâ€"which was that morning‘sâ€"that concerned me, and I presently found it : “ ST.ln'ri.ixo Coxrsssmx or A DYING BUItnI..m-â€"â€"About a month since, a. man was admitted to Sâ€"liospital under singular circumstances. At about 3 A. )I., when he applied foradmission, he was alone, although he was very severely injured, having been much battered and bruised, his most danger- ous wound being one on the back of his head. .Hc said that he was a seafarin ' man, and been set on and savagely assaulted by two strangers near London Bridge, but declined to further give any in- formation. Finding, however, aftcr a lapse of four weeks that his in- juries were likely to .prove fatal, be yes- terday made this following extraordinary statement : He had been engaged in breaking into a hop warehouse in the Borough with another man, and they broke open the safe, in which there was a large quantity of gold, l which they tied up in a silk handkerchief; found in the same counting house. This booty, the man who was afterwards wound- ed, had secured, when some noise alai'nim them, and the other man immediately darted I out of the premises, and incensed at thel cowardliness of his companion, the injured l man in‘ude oll'with the plunder, intending in i keep it all. According toliis dying statement a he ran toward the Elephant and ('astlcâ€"â€"l and there hailed a cab, and was, driven to- ‘ ward \\'alworth, in which neighborhood and l at one publiehouse, the sign of which he did not know, he drank brandy with the‘ l | l l . l l l l calnuaii and two wumen. IIe relnenibcred . nothing more euccpt that. the cabinan, who seemed a respectable man, was anxious to get him away from bad company, until he heard a strange noise as :if somebody l.i'¢-:ik~ ing a door in. lloused by this, and looking ‘ about liiln. he saw, by the light of a lamp. there was in the place, that he was in a cab and covered over with a home-rug. But i arcly had he made. this discovery, when a man made his appearance, and whom he in. stantly recognimd as his burglar comrade. \Vithout a word the latter at once attacked him with a hammer, and while he vainly en- deavored to defend himself with his knife, : rendered him insensiiilc. illnw long he re-l mained in that condition he does not know, 1 but when he at length recovered conscious- ness he was alone and the money tied up in the handkerchief was gone. Though terribly faint from loss of blood and much bewildt-r. 3 ed. he managed to get away from the place and make his way to the hospital in the l way already described. The p0il’.‘u-â€"Wlll3, it 3 maybe stated, do not place much faith in! the man’s statementâ€"arc making inquiries v I don't remember that I had ever said: my prayers since I sent to Sunday school, ‘ but I Went down On my knees then. ,Ul British 01' llisli Iiiiglii. “ Thank the Lord." says I, “ and if I am tempted to go crooked again, and the. thought of the horrible time I have had don"t. chcclgmc, why let the very went ha pen,.that‘s all.” = _ ‘ . Twas not lon in getting to the Police station. where told my story. and" as I took with me the wniaiiidcr of the gold in the silk handkerchiefsâ€"a hundred and thirty- two pounds ten there was~thure was no rea- son for them to doubt what I said. Of course. and it served inericht, I got into disguicc for taking the man to my‘. place. instead of handing him over to the police, ,but that. was the worst, flint. blip- pened to me. The burglar dirtl‘ withoule ‘ healing the llzlllle of his "pal," and the latter was never discovered, and as for the scoundrcl who had the seventy pounds â€"â€"ilie fifty first and'tlic twenty idieriwtrdrâ€"“ ‘. lic 'anished. It is now nearly thirty years since the affair happened; but it was a lesson through life for me.“ . . -â€"«â€"'râ€"â€"-.---â€"â€"â€"' _. d ,I‘ _, . Innadmn Eggs In England. If the Canadimrlicn could fully appreciate the good news tliathcr owners h’nvc‘ ‘ccci\'~ cd from across tlie‘occan it is probablclhat she would indulge in such a ca‘ckle ofdeli'fllit' as would unite the barnyard intolerable - o everything that has oars. .- Now she may live and flourish, notwithstanding thawin- certainty that onsovolbd months has‘hung. over her useful ' c, for. John Bull. says,,h_o is prepared to pay a. fair price both for her and her product. The cableanuounccs that a first consignment of lews ship led to} En '- laiid since the passage fifth}: .\ c {inlcy bi l hosprcsultcd inost- satlsfactorlly, the eggs I arriving in good ()rrlefl‘fiiid 'selliug readily; for 24c; a dozen. ‘ This ‘b‘y‘tlie ‘llcztlt‘rs is re» garded as very encouraging. Said a. Toronto shipper, on hearing the result, “ If our eggs can coiiinuind that price it» would have paid our holders to have shipped to the London market instead of rushing their stock overt»: to the States before the McKinley bill was put into force.” At 24c. a dozen it is esti~ v matcd'thitt the exporter will have about 20e. I clear at Toronto, 1'. e., that do. ‘a doaen will cover counnissiou, freiglits, and all expenses. Nor is there any danger of glutting the Eug- lish market. 7 5,57l,340 dozen eggs Were imported into that country during the first nine months of the current year, an increase of more than five million dozen over the cor- responding period of last year. Indeed, the , money'sent out of the country for eggs in "more than two thirds that paid for cheese, being $12,000,000 for the first nine months of this year. There can be no doubt that. if our commission men and exporters show the same diligence in catering for the English egg trade that the dairynien have employed in catering for the cheese trade the (lana- diaii egg industry may be made more. profit- able. to both farmers and exporters than ever it has been. Already the iiiuii.tgers of sev- 0 ‘al lilies of ocean stcitiiiers have expressed their readiness to do all in their power it} promote this trade by providing suitable shipping space, while the arrangements are being considered for the establishment- of cold storage depots to hold immense sup- plies. \\'itli proper shipping facilities and suitable storage establishments, it. will matter little to those who are interest- cd in this industry how high our neighbors build their tariff walls. ___â€"â€"â€"â€"â€".â€"â€"â€"-â€"-â€" The Mormon l'roplirt. Compared with the countless number of fanatics who have played other parts in the religious drama, the number of persons who have assumed the prophetic role is surpris- ineg small. A few, however, the-:0. have been. One of these. Joseph Smith, the Mor- mon prophet and founder of the sect, in soon to have his claims to Divine inspiration severely tested. Among the articles of faith which he claimed to have received from Heaven was this, “that Christ will reign personally upon the earth, aiid that the earth will be renewed and receive its I’aradisaical glorv.” Moreover, he stated that it had bccii revealed to him when the grand and solemn event should take place. This is his record : “I was once praying very earnestly to know the time of the coming of the Son of Man when I heard a voice repeat the fol- lowing : ‘Joscpli, my son, if thou livcst until thou art eighty-five years old, thou shalt scc the face of the Son of Man ; there- fore, let this suffice, and trouble me no more in this matter.’ ” Now as Joseph was born on Dec. 23rd, 1805, it will be. seen that. the approaching 23rd lhuuuubei' is thefinic fixed by the prophecy. That is dangerously hour for those who have not yet made their peace with Heaven. llut in this instance as in those which have preceded, the Qili'd of lie- ecniber is likely to demonstrate that “the old prophets are dead and the young ones are false.’ ____.__.â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"- A History or the lbonllnlon. The Coiiiniiltec on Canadian History have just announced that they are in a position to offer tempting pecuniary inducements for the production of .1 history of the U-lllllllllill. In making their announcement,- they explain that “this action is rendered possible by the magnificent gift of two thousand five bun- dri-d dollars made within the past ten days, and which isnow announced for the first time. There will be oil'ered a series of three prizes open to the world for the best Domin- ion textbooks of Canadian history, and ll is believed that since the firs-ll prize will be not. less than one illnllr'lllll dollars and the others proportionaicly great, the ablest hisloiiaun will be induced to tnke part in the c Illlpf’ll tioii. The donor isa Canadian who is proud of his coiinti'v. who has faith in its future, and who is shiliviently gi-iwrous at limit to contribute materially to its e-lumtitnnll needs. Although his name will not be an- [1-'>lllll:f:llul prment, lll". noble gift Will be highly :ippr:.~r.iri‘ied, and it is to lip. ho].ch that its. purpose will lu- ii-alilvd. ' .1 his an- nouncement will be hailed with delight by many who will f'lllt'llillll the hope that we mall soon haven history of our vicinity, popular in style, reliable as to in ‘ :uul (:oiiiprt:liv.::si\'e wi'hout being prolix. ’ 7. Rome of the loudest .i-ln'omtm. of pri “.r 'r- tiou for home indurtry are never engaged in any industry at hum». Ar:-':<'irifing to {olwrt Him-n, the if; Sl.’t‘.i~‘lii_‘i;iii, (limit 11:11am. rials-- l‘fi. .__,.___._. has . lost {LIXKUXM of he? population by ‘ ungui- ition and that of lhi- number 7.010.!!!” wue lint manv have gout: U‘ll ll~'X' j.opill.l'..r»i: loci steadilv lllci't‘l‘i’lf, gaining in ii." thirty- SEVIZI)\‘I'f|.'w2llr'llit lliMiLUM. '1'}:' w Lina lli‘l'ilei “.1! ~(fljlgfiX’IIX till: (:pilil'iil fliz'. f‘tuigi'nll’fi. .‘tlilhllli-Z ‘, no isnfiieicii'. cheek upon the pnpiiiatiniiof the United Kingdom. Ill-lcc‘l sin w "J: thy natutnl itir‘itwlrc. rifle: deducting to: our. tion, is over ~l.‘)l;l.|.f;lju.