h.» ._._ â€"-â€"-â€"â€"â€"-â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"~ ..._â€"_.. - .___..___â€" “.â€" _.._-â€" ._.- ._. .â€" - . A SCRATCH IN PLAY. PART I. Beware, my friends. of hands and their grim- hzes. . Of little angles' wiles yet more beware thee. Ju~t «ich a one to kiss her did cnsnnrc lllC, Butc-omiug. got wounds. and not embraces. Beware of old black cats with evil face ; Yet more of kittens white and soft he “'3“ y, My sweetheart. \visjnst such alittlc fairy. And yet she welhnigh scratched my heart to pzca‘cs. Oh thlld ! measure 0 sweet love! dear beyond all ~ Now could those eyes so bright and clear dc- ccive me! , That little paw so sore a heartwound 81"0 me! My kittcn's tender paw, thou soft small trea+ urc, . Oh! could I to my burning: lips but press thee. My heart the while might blood to (loath and bless thee. I am very sorry to have to say it, yet I must speak the truth even of herI love most; and I repeat, what I always have maintained, not only that she was com- pletely in the wrong, but that she ought to confess it. We had loved each other all our lives. Our fathers were old brother-officers and the closest of friends: and each being widowed and the father of an only child, what was more natural than that when they left the service and her fatheritiny settled on his estate, my father should take up his quarters in a pretty cottage on his friends domains? What plans the two , known routine ; dined with the‘two old gen~ ‘ tlemen; strolled out as of old on the terrace with my early laymate; climbed at night once more to t. e familiar room under the thatch; and listened as in years gone by to the murmur of the stream that ran from her home to mine. Yes, it was all the same! The old women seemed not a day older; the trees very little big er: the river just as it had always been.’ nly, how different it all was: how different the thoughts that thrilled through my brainâ€"the feelings that throbhcd in my heart! “'ell, well, we need not go over all that strange, miserable, happy time when my mind want ï¬lled with doubt and fear ; when I knew not whether I was to be the most blessed or the most wretched of men ; whether I was to stay contentcdly at home for the rest of my life. or start once more on my travels to heal a broken heart as best I could among foreign lands and unknown faces. I sometimes fancy that if we could but turn back the “ forward-flowing tide of time,†I would live these weeks over again. But at length they came to an end. One still June evening, when the moon was but fa cresent in the sky, and the nightingales ; were singing with all the strength of their throats and fervour of their great hearts, my little love laid her golden head somewhere about the lower edge of my breast-pocket, and gazing up in my face, old fellows used to make for theirchildren’s i promised tO' overlook the fact that I was future! I, of course, should enter the old regiment; and she, of course, should marry me. Alas! I myself was the cause of the only a sawbones and no gallant ofï¬cer. , “ \Vcll, you see,†whispered the little voice, “you are so big and strong and hand- shatteringof the ï¬rst dream ; and subsequent ; some, it- is no use trying to fight against you. events very nearly put an end to all chance of tbc‘second’s being realized. When I had reached the age of seventeen. when my brain ought to have been on fire I love you, I love you! and after all, you are my own dear old Clinton; and I’d marry you if you were a sweep, which is even worse than a. doctor.†And the brave blue eyes for the sound of the drum, and my Sleep ; looked up at me So proudly and so trusting- disturbcd by dreams of the glories of war, my dear old father discoveredâ€"through an intolerable odour which prevadcd the house, and was traced to a mysterious box in my bedroomâ€"that my mind turned towards science, and that a macerating of. or the dissecting table was more to me t an thc'ex‘ termination of the entire British army. I often sigh now as I think of the sad- head- shakings the poor old gentlemen must have indulged in as they discussed my extra- ordinary fancy over their wine; and I know that my little playfcllow, Avis, treated me to a good deal of contempt when it was confessed that I actually turned from “ the profession snit- ablc for a gentleman,†and deliberately chose that of a mere sawboncs. Poor old father! He loved me too well to oppose me: and one dull autumn morning I left the old home to enter upon my studies at the university of Edinburgh. \Vhy (lid I 'o to Edinburgh, and not London? W'cll, think it was partly because I had a feel- ing that I was breaking with all the old life : and therefore wanted to put hundreds of difficulties betWeen my father and the realization of his old hope. How well I remember my arrival, that cold, gray morning, in the beautiful city ! I left my luggage at the station, and climbed up the steep bill that leads from the land of steam and noise to the most beautiful street I have yet seen in my wanderings. How grandly, away to my left, rose the magnifi~ cent “ Old Town," topped with its castle ; and to my right, the gardens and splendid buildings of Princes’ Street; while behind me couched the “ Lion,†watching over the safety‘ of the maiden city! How lonely I felt among it allâ€"how utterly lost ! I think that, if all had approved my design to be- come a doctor, I should at that moment have turned and gone back to England, and promised my old father to do anything he might wish. But the vision of a child with long flowing hair, deï¬ant face, and hands fast clasped behind her, came across my mental vision. She had refused to bid me good-by. How she would triumph if I came home again, my work undone ! No I must go on. So I plucked up heart, and wandered on alone in that unknown city, ‘looking for a place wherein to lay my weary head. Before long, I found lodgings, and had my things removed to a little street near the theatre. And not many weeks had passed before I was as happy as a king, drinking in all the new mysteries of my chosen profession. Ah ! that first enthus- iasm, why doesn’t it last? Why, as the years go on, does there come in its stead such utter loathing of each fresh step? I did not in the least mind the dissecting room ; but the operating theatre-Abe hospitalâ€"the horror of it all. Well, it is over; and to that supcrcilious little figure with the flying hair and the clenched 'hands do I owe the obstmacy that carried me through these four years of sun- shine and shadow. Give in, when she had said: " I know you will hate it. I hope you will give it up!" Shall I give it up? Never! The thought of the look of triumph I should see in the eyes of that. young girl acted as a spur to me. I worked on. I hardly ever went home; for l was really “keen on†my work, and spent most- of my spare time. among the foreign hospitals and schools. Then a seri- ous illness, coming upon me just as I had completed my course, made me decide, on my recovery, to go as doctor on board a great ship sailing to the other ends of the earth. So. thanks to one thing and another, it was not tillthc slimmwkwurd boy ofeightecuhad changed into a great weather-beaten man of four or ï¬ve and twentv. that I once more stood on the old walled terrace of the home of my little love. And by my side was the] little love herself I And such a little love ! At twenty she was no bigger than she was at fifteen ; but oh 2 so much prettier. The hair that had often been dragged back into a stiff pigtail now wandered in wouderous waves over her little head, poised like a flower on her sweet neck. l\o more ink- bcspattcrcd pinnfores and scratched hands : no more long thin spindle-shanks showing under a short and skimpy skirt ! No ; she was as dainty as a fairy, and took now as much pains to adorn her already perfect little self as at one tune she had seemed to expend on tryinï¬to'personatc a scarecrow. Yes; I stood y her once ugrin, and knew that I was likely to be near her for the rest of our lives. hit my dear father was getting old, and longed to have his only son beside him. So I was only too do- lighted when the ofl'er came of a practice in the neighborhood. Yes, I had come hamc “ tolivo and die," as my a ed nurse cheer- fully put it. in the home 0 my childhood ; and I could hardly believe I was not a child again. as sure more I settled into the well- put hundreds of wonder whether I really was the most sus- milcs between me and the old home, as I had co brute on the face 0f the green ly, that I thought no man had ever before such loving glances cast upon him. . Oh, what a happy time we had! I thought that trouble could never touch me more. As I strode home through the soft air to tell my father the glad news, I felt like an arch- angel. Yes, I fancied my troubles were at an end â€"â€"that I was going to be blessed beyond all human flesh ; but I did not yet realize what it is to be an engaged man ! No sooner were we safely and ï¬rmly betrothed, than my young lady contracted such a. habit of flirting as made me stand agape. I main- tain that she flirted. She insists that she did not ! She says she was only making herself agreeable for the sake of my prac- tice. She repeats that she smiled on the curates, youths from Oxford, retired infli- tary men, &c., not as men at all, but purely 1; as possible future patients. Future patients! Did I want them bought with her smiles ‘2 Still, such an injured saint did she look when I ventured to expostulate, that I hardly knew how ,to bear myself ; and I used to earth. At length matters reached a climax, and I turned at last. It was in the week of the “ Lawn Tennis Tournament â€â€"â€"the one great excitement:- of our little countrysideâ€"when a young hus- sar made lus appearance, and contrived to got himself drawn as her partner in the doubles l She declares that I am simply talking nonsense when I assert that he got himself drawn 'as her partner ; and she says that it is all done by lots, and that people must play with just whoever falls to their lot! Well, that is neither here nor there. She need not have behaved as she did. He did not live in these parts of the world : lie-could not be considered as a pos- sible patient; yet the interest she took in him was most marked. If it is a fact that she could not help having him for her part- ner in the “ doubles â€â€"as they call the thingâ€"need she have stood watching him with all her eyes in the “ singles,†clapping her hands at each stroke he won, or have been the first to congratulate him the mo- ment he had put on his abominable loud “ blazer " and marched off the ï¬eld or Court, victorious? ' I do not play tennis, having more impor- tant matters to attend to; nor do I dance particularlywcll ; still, at their insufi'erably dull “ Tennis Ball,†she need not have thrown me ever for him in the pronounced way she chose to do. “ Oh, Clinton, may I give Captain Smyth one of your dances '3 you? “Oh, certainly not; give him the lot if you like," I answered blandly. I did not know till that moment that the sweetest of blue eyes can flash sparks of ice ; but I saw them do it then. “ Oh, thank you so much.-â€"-There, Cap- tain Smyth ; that is delightful: you can have three more than I promised you at ï¬rst.†And without waiting to listen to my angry cxpostnlatiun, she sailed away on his arm. I knew I had been rude and wanted to apologise ; and tried hard to catch her eye as she swam round with the handsome captain, who could dance. But never once were the long dark lashes lifted, never once Elid the old smile play across the sweet little ace. I went hcmc utterly wretched. Ah, how , thelittlc paw could wound my bi v stupid * heart ! I lay awake all night, an during the long hours 1 made up my mind to hasten the very ï¬rst thing in the morning, to ‘ make friends ’ with her. I should tell ler was sorry I had been rude, but should i, also make her understand I had a good deal of cause to feel injured. 5 “ Clinton," she began very quietly the moment she entered the room, “ I am glad :you have come. There are some things I i must say to you. I consider that the way in which you have. behaved since our engage- - ment has been most humiliating to me." i “To you I I do not see what cause you i have to speak," I broke out. “lam going to speak,†her soft, even i voice went on. “ I consider your unreason- : able jealdusy as nothing short of an insult. If you cannct trust me, you had better bid me good-bye. There can be no happiness in . a marriawe without absolute trust." I hardIy know what I said then, whether I pleaded or upbrai'lcd. I remember little of what befelltill I found myself striding through the ï¬elds, their corn-flowers blue like thus: angry eyes, and their poppies bright like her scornful red mouth. “'33 it all at an end, then, the dream of my life? Yes, of course it wasâ€"over. all over E I must get away, away back You won’t mind, will to the sea and the wild strange lands: 'stancc have easily been mistaken for the jaway, somewhere, anywhereâ€"from all 3-». this. But my poor could not leave him. I must not leave my work : some of my cases were in critical con- dition. There was no escape. HereI must stay: meet her constantly; shake hands with her ; and yet be as if the world stretch- ed between us. And the dreadful part of it all was that she seemed ‘not to care one little bit. She was the same bright, merry, dainty little creature that she has always been. \Yhy was she so cruel 2 “’hy would she not once look at me with a glance of pity, love, remorse? How gladly, at her smallest overture of grace, would I have cast myself utterly on her mercy, and vow- ed anything she chosc to demand of me. But she gave no sign ; and I was too proud to approach her unless she herself seemed to summon me. \Vhat a wretched time it was ! How ï¬ercely week by week did I try to harden my heart against her ‘. But everything con- spired to make that impossible. Hardly a cottage did I enter but. I heard of her lov- ing-kindness. She seemed to go about like a sunbeam, smoothing coarse pillows, comforting sad hearts, calling smiles to parched and fevered lips, and looks of love to heavy eyes. .How was it that she could be so tender to others, could so hurt the heart that loved her? How could she keep up our quarrel all this time, when she must see how it was wounding me, killing me '2 If only she would say she was sorry she had vexed me, I should not whisper a word of blame. But say it she would not. And so the summer passed : autumn came with its storms and decay ; and yet we were no nearer being friends again. ' (To an CONTINUED.) HEAT PRODUCED BY METEORS. An Aid In the Mututcnanee ofthc Sun's Ordinary Expenditure. I pointed out that when a shooting star dashes into our atmosphere its course is at~ tended with an evolution of light and heat CALIFORNIA. A Foam-c of the ï¬re-at American Desert. The most fatally famous part of the Great old on...“ ll was FAMOUS DEATH VALLEY or American Desert is Death Valley. in Cali- fornia. There is on all the globe no other spot more forbidding. more desolate, more. ( cndly. It is aconccntration of the her tors of that whole hideous area, and it has a bitter history. One of the most interesting and graphic stories I ever listened to was that related to me, several years ago, by one of the sur- vivors of the famous Death Valley party of ISlllâ€"thc Rev. J. Methodist clergyman now living in Cali- fornia. A party of five hundred emigrants started on the last day of September, 1849, from the southern end of Utah so cross the desert of the then new, mines of California. There were one hundred and ï¬ve canvas- topped wagons, drawn by sturdy oxen, be- side which trudged the shaggy men, rifle in hand, while under the canvas awn- ing rode the women and children. In a short time there was division of opin- ion as to the proper route across that pathless waste in front ; and next day live i wagons and their people went cast to reach Santa Fe (whence there were dim Mexican trails to Los Angelos), and the rest plunged boldlv into the desert. The party which , went by way of Santa Fe reached California Ein December, after vast sufferings. W. Brier, an agedi Real Merit I: the characteristic of Hood's Samapaflllï¬. “It Is maltreated every dayln thermal-h loam medlclne accompmbes. Dru- â€Iâ€: When we sell a bottle of Hood’s Sarsaparilla Denim womsumtoseehnn look he 15' weeks after momâ€"proving mawmmtsnomatflalbomem â€mus use. This positive merit Hood’s Sarsaparllla pm by virtue of the recount-Combina- ml'mpernoa and Process used inflame plum. and by which all the remedial van a at the Medians used is retained. Hood's Sarsaparllla b thus Peculiar to Itself and absolutely No We: a blood puriï¬er. and as a tonic for bulldingupthe weakandglvlngnervestrength. Hood’s .Sarsaparilla Edd by all drugglsts. Bl; six for so. Prepared on!) I]; C. I. HOOD & 00.. Apothccurles. Lowell. Mass. I00 “0593 One Dollar The . llarger company traveled in comfort for a' l few days until they reached about where ' Piochc now is. Then they entered the Land of Thirst ; and for more than three months wandered lost in that realm of horror. It was almost impossible to get wagons through a country furrowed with canons ; so they soon abandoned their vehicles, packing what i they could upon the backs of the oxen. They l struggled on to glittering lakes, only to ï¬nd ' them deadly oison, or buta mirage on barâ€" ; ren sands. how and then a wee spring in the mountains gave them new life. One by one the oxen dropped, day by day the scanty owing to its friction through the air. “’3 were thus able to account for the enormous ; quantity of heat, or what was equivalent E to heat, which existed in virtue of the rapid - motion of these little bodies. Of course, we ; Their bones were found many years later by only see these meteors at the supreme m t ftl .' d' l t‘ l t] l' 1 .Governor Blaisdell and his surveyors, who . omen o 1e11 1330 11 ion w fen iey ( as l 5 gave Death Valley its name. into our atmosphere. 1t 15, however, impos- f ‘l r ' ' V ‘ - sible to doubt that there must be uncounted . aborilf? 01:21113,135,352“(litigfiyggi‘jégffénEd II: shoals of meteors which never collide with 5 width it ta ers from three miles at its our earth. .- southern end to thirty at the northern. It It “‘“St’ necessarily happen that many 0f : is over two hundred feet below the level of the other great globes m our system must, i the sea. The main party crossed it. at about m“? our globe, absorb multitudes 0f meteors ' the middle, where it is buta few miles wide, which they chance to encounter in their but suffered frightfully there. Day by (lav roammgs. The number 0f meteors that W111 some of their number sank upon the burri- be gathered by a globe “"11 be doubtless ing sands never to rise. The survivors rcater the larger and more massrve be the 1 were too weak to help the fallen. flour ran lower. Nine young men who separated from the rest, being stalwart and unencumbered with families, reached Death V allcy ahead of the others, and were lost. I“ the; The strongest of the whole party was m“ place, the dimensions Of the net WT?“ nervous, little Mrs. Brier, who had come to the globe extends to entrap the meteors wul, ; Colorado an invalid, and who shared with also“?! mercasc lwtth ltts 5.3% b}?! 1:: “‘1‘ , her boys of four, seven, and nine years of 1 10‘" ne morexe lemon “1 c 1 an rac- 5 a e that- indescribable tramp of nine hun- tion and the greater will be the number of ! dred miles. For the last three weeks she t1]? niiiteorshthat are drawn in its extcn-l had to lift her athletic husband from the sue '3' "TSP eff" . . .- ground every morning, and steady him 8. Of course, this reasoning “â€11 apply in a. ; few moments before he could stand. She globe, and this for a double reason. special degree to the sun. \Ve shall prob- ; ably be correct in the assertion that for every meteor that descends upon this earth at- least 1,000,000 meteors will descend upon the sun. As these objects ,plow through the at- mosphere, light and heat will be, of course, evolved. It has been con- jectured that the friction of the meteors which are incessantly rushing into the sun may produce light and heat in sufficient quantities to aid in the maintenance of the sun’s ordinary expenditure. .It has been even supposed that the quantity of energy thus generated may supply all that is want- ed to explain the extraordinary circumstance that from age to age no visible decline has taken place in the intensity of the solar radiation. ' . Here again is a question which we must submit to calculation. “’6 have ï¬rst of all to determine the heat which could be gener- ated by a body of, let us say, a pound in weight falling into the sun after being at- tracted thither from an indefinitely great distance. The result is not a little start-- ling: it shows us that such a body, in the course of its friction through the sun’s at- mosphere, might generate as much heat as could be produced by the combustion of many times its own weight of coal consumed under the most favorable conditions. - _____¢______â€"_. The “ Great Sea Serpent.†The New Zealand Heraldin a recent issue reports that on the trip to Fiji and back on the steamer Ovalau, just concluded, Cap- tain A. W. Cameron and his ofiiccrs saw 'what may be held to be a solution of the “ great sea serpent †stories which have been so plentifully related lately. The steamer was going along at about ten knots in midpccan, when a. commotion was ob- served in the water ahead, and the body of a huge marine animal or ï¬sh, with what ap- peared to be great flippers, was to be seen rising and falling. Capt. Cameron did not keep away or pass at a distance, but steer- cd direct for the stranger. On approaching close the commotion was found to be a. big whale, over 30 feet long, fighting with a great threshcr shark. The latter appar- ently was having a lot the best of the com- bat, as the whale kept on the surface of the water comparatively quiet, while the shark ever and anon threw itself aloft out of the water and brou ht its formidable tail down with a terrible >low upon the whale. At times fully 15 feet of the shark’s body was clear out of the water, and those on board the. steamer noted that it possessed two wide and long ï¬ns, which might at a dis- flippers which were attributed to the "sea serpents †recently spoken of. The Ovalau was so close to the animals, which were too occupied to heed the vessel, that either could have been touched with apole, but as she had her port to make in gem time she did not wait to see the result of this ocean combat. ______._....â€"â€"â€"â€". No Cause for Gref A walLeycd, hungry-looking individual recently entered a Bowery restaurant and seated himself at one of the tables. A wait-- or a poured, ready for his order. “ as dead 2" observed the man, gazing intently at the table. " 0, no," answered the waiter. " Wife perhaps. When dtes the funeral come off 2" “ Wife ain't- dead, either." “ One of the children, mebbe. -Ah, well, life is short. “'c are here to-dny. but where to-morrow ‘.'" “ Children are all wclL" gave help to wasted giants any one of whom, Nervelessuess of Ohinameu. There is much to admire in Chinamcn ; but nothing is more admirable in them than the qualities described by a writer in a Shanghai paper. He says they can remain in one position an indefinite time, have no consciousness of monotony, can do without. exercise, are impervious to noise, can go to sleep at any moment and in any attitude-- all because they have no nerves. It is not to be supposed that this nervelessness is a physiological fact ; but it cannot be doubt- ed that the Chinumau’s patience, endurance and insusceptibility to influences which would send a European into an earl ' grave are constitutional. He cannot he p tak- ing things at they come. Curiously Eenough, this difference is not associated with want of energy, for the Chiuaman is ex- ceptionally Industrious. He is simply in- ‘ sensible to worry. I i I â€". Reward of Merit. Railroad President-“ That was a bad ac- cident, but it might have been a thousand times worse. Suppose those cars had taken ï¬re! Phew! thy didn’t they?†Superintendentâ€"“Alasy brakcman had let the fires go out." Presidentâ€"“Raise his salary.†“German yrup†“ I have been a great sufferer from Asth- ma and severe Colds every Winter, and last Fall my friends as well as myself thought Asthma. a. few months before, could have lifted her because-of my feeble condition, and l great d1stress from constant cough- ’ with one hand. At last the few survivors crossed the range which shuts ofl‘ that most dreadful of deserts from the garden of the world, and l were tenderly nursed to health l hacienda, or ranch house, Spaniard. 'Mr. Brier had lost one hundred pounds in weight, and the others were thin iin proportion. \thn I saw I was a hale old man of seventy-five, cheerful ‘and active, but with strange furrows in his face to tell of those bygone sufferings. Hi8 ‘heroie little wife was still living, and the ; . boys, who had such a bitter experience as perhaps no other boys ever survrved, are now stalwart men.â€"â€"[St. Nicholas. PapersIIonducted by Madmen- Thcrc are several instances of newspapers at the that my 9 or a courtly, When nearly worn out for want of l l him last be] ing, and inability to raise any of the accumulated matter from my lungs, time was close at hand. sleep and rest, a friend recommend- cd me to try thy valuable medicine, Boschee’s Ge rman ' Gentle. Syrup. I amdcon- , ï¬deut it save my Refreshing life. Almost theï¬rst Sleep, dose gave me great being published in lunatic asylnms. The .most notable one is the “ New Moon,†which has now been issued from the Dum- fries Lunatic Printing Press for the past forty-Six years, and is still in full vitality. The matter is provided by the pens of 5 patients and members of the staff, and it is ‘set up and printed by insane occupants, aided by occasional outside labour. Another very respectable and well-conducted news- paper cminatcs from the Morningsidc Lun- atic Asylum. It is entitled, “The Morning- sidc Mirror,†and is wholly produced with- in that establishment, and a series of corre- spondcnts’ letters from other asylums being regularly published therein. Gartnavel, another Scotch asylum near (Hasgow, has its weekly journal. Others also exist, or have existed, by the titles of the “York Star,†“Loose Leaves.†and the “Excel- sior,†and no doubt there are many others not so publicly known. One of the clevcrest works lately published on “ Mental Diseases and Abnormal Physical Conditions," writ- ten by the physician in charge of a Stock- holm asylum, was printed, bound, and issu- ed by the inmatcs of that establishment. â€"â€"â€".â€"-â€"â€"-â€"â€"â€"- "I would he of no Use. Stern Parentâ€"J‘ I tell you what it is, Martha, I’m tired of seeing that young fol- low coming here two or three evenings a peek. I think I shall have to sit down on um.†no use. I’ve done it myself tunes, and I rather think he likes it. ’ Mrs. John McLean writes, from llarric Island, Ont., March 4, 1889, as follows: have been a great sufferer from neuralgia for the last nine years, but, being advised to try St. Jacobs Oil. can now heartily en- dorse it as being a most excellent remedy for this complaint, as I have been greatly benefitted by its use." _ Can .4’--. , l l .1 can†_ REM YfaRPAIN Sprains, Bruises, Burns, Swellingg, THE CHARLES A. VOGELER COMPANY, Baltimore, Md. adian Depot: TORONTO, OHT. relief anda gentle re- freshing sleep, such 9.51 had not had for weeks. My cough began immedi- ately to loosen and pass away, and I found myself rapidly gaining in health and weight. I am pleased to inform theeâ€"unsolicitedâ€"that I am in excellent health and do cer- tainly°attribute it to thy Boschee’s Eerman Syrup. C. B. STICKHiNEY, Picton. Ontario." Q. Scotland andâ€"Ill; Thistle. The thistle was selected as the national emblem of Scotland in the year 1010. It was during the reign of Malcolm 1. that a notable invasion of the country was mad, by the Danes. They came in thousands and, landing on the coast, swarmed ovcr the inhabited districts like locusts, destroy- ing, burning and plundering wherever they went. For safety the inhabitants fled to the castles and fortiï¬ed towns, and among the most notable of the fortresses of Aber. dcenshire was Stainc’s Castle, where were collected a large number of'pcoplc of the neighborhood. The Danes projected a sur« prise. Approaching the castle in the dark- ness, they planned to scale its walls, and laid asrde their shoes that the greater secrecy might be observed when drawing near ft the fortifications. The surprise might havc been successful had it not been for the fact that, on descending into the dry moat, the) found, to their great discomfiture and morti- fication, it was filled with thistlcs, by whicl their feet were so severely prickcd tha‘ Martha--“ I wouldn’t, pa ; ’twould he of I several made an outcry, which aroused tha defenders of the castle and brought their to the wall in time to repel the Onset. Rel arding their good fortune in repellin ' tlu lDanes as due to the thistlcs, these p ant: “I were Immediately placed in the arms of Scotland and adopted as the emblem of th: country. â€"â€"-â€"-â€"-â€"â€"â€"â€"*â€"-â€"-â€"-â€"â€" The best thing outâ€"A conflagration.‘ “A man's deeds live after him." So (1 his mortgages. EQU. do RHEUMATISM, HEURALGIA, LUM‘Baeo, SCIATICA, , e. 4r en. »Mnu . .m.....~...-...~ ~»«*--â€"q A . WW w M w.â€"..___.. w r," a»: ,7 ""'-"--‘ -: 'r‘ ~. v -~»...g -... .........~. .c- «c-w ._....,--...~q.....,. - g...“ . -~