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000+." O c OOOOQOOO’.Q,°. Q... Q...Q.§O’.O0.0Q.99.00.00 00 6b... 00.90.6‘00.°0.00'QO.DD.0 9.. ‘42. ° ’ ° ' r o u . Q ‘o. o ' â€" ’ 0:9 9 ‘3 i all" 0.. 0°. 3 z 3 0 .3 .2. g f . 0:0 °o‘ , I 2 0:0 6;, ' 9 w 02’ '0’ 0’. ‘ ‘ 0 O O O O O 9 oz»; 0.0 5.0.0 go no 9.99.0 0.. 0.09.. 0.0 .3. o. I scarcely like to guarantee the truth of this story, .but will narrate it in the simple, homely language in _which Barkingâ€"Wilmot told it me. re had been playing draughtS. which, as most people are aware, is the usual occupation of City men in the afternoon, and I had had the pleasure of hufling Barkingâ€"Wilmot twice, when the conversation drifted in some curious way to the subject of photography. “If at any time you go in for it,” he said, sadly, “take my advice, and don’t buy a camera that is too easy to manipulate. What you want is somethin fairly complicated; I should choose a camera with two or three wheels and a series of patent springs, that are guaranteed not to expose a plate with less than ten minutes’ hard work.” He lifted his coffee -cup to his inouth with trembling fingers, and, perceiving that there was some strong reason for his agitation, I put the draught-board away- and coaxed him into a full confession. It was soon after he took up pho- tography, when the enthusiast is in that curious frame of mind that tempt‘s him to snap everything he sees, from a dead cat to a Chatham and Dover Railway station, that he sallicd forth one Saturday after- noon with a six-and-ninepenny camâ€" era under his arm for the purpose of securing something “really good.” _ He. had taken the train to the picâ€" turesque neighborhood of Becken- ham, and was tramping along a. country road looking out eagerly for subjects, when a young lady riding a bicycle turned the corner sharply, dashed into a heap of fiints which the local board had thoughtfully deâ€" posited in the middle of the road, lost control of her machine, and fell off. The; bicycle rolled away into the hedge and the young lady picked her- self up, or at least attempted to do so, as quickly as possible. I really can’t blame Barking-Wil- mot for what he did. He Placed his camera on a gate near at hand and stepped forward gallantly to assist beauty. in distress. His conduct apâ€" pears to have been quite correct. 0n attempting to rise the young lady discovered that her ankle was slightly injured. Barking-Wilmot put his arm round her in perfectly put his arm round her in a perfectâ€" ly respectful way â€"â€" I have his word for it, and he is as truthful a man as I ever met in the wholesale drapâ€" ery trade -â€" and lifted her to her feet. After expressing the hope that she was not seriously hurt, and finding that after a moment or two she was able to mount her machine, he fetchâ€" ed the bicycle and she rode away. That is the entire incident. The trouble arose in this way. When he turned to pick up his camera he found it on the ground. Having a vague idea that he had better change the plate he did so, and went gaily on his way taking photographs. Now comes the unfortunate de- velopment, both of the photograph and of the incident. Barking-Wilmot was a great deal more enthusiastic about “snapping” pictures than developing plates. But, his wife is one of those irrepressiny active» women who gladly undertake any branch of work that comes in their way, from springâ€"cleaning to running a poultry farm. She said she would develop his plates one day in the following week. When she got to work she found that eleven out of the twelve plates were scarce- ly worth printing out. But there was. one plate which was a surprisâ€" ing success. 1t was a. pleasing little picture, a background of foliage with a noble hill in the distance; in the foreâ€" ground two figures, a lady, young and pretty, round whose waist was Mr. Barkingâ€"Wilmot’s arm. He apâ€" peared to be looking into her face with an expression of ineffable tenâ€" derness. It is easy to understand what had happened. In falling off the gate, tihe camera had “gone off,” so to speak, and with that extraordinary “cussedness” which pervades human affairs, photographic and otherwise, the picture which had been fortuitâ€" ously taken was really excellent. His wife was not pleased. But, unfortunately, instead of approach- ing her husband on the subject, when he returned from the city that night, she determined to give him a little surprise by printing off a copy the following day and placing it in a prominent position on the mantel- piece, where he couldn’t fail to see it. ‘ As luck would have it, too, on the following afternoon she met at a. neighbor’s At Home a young lady from Beckenhqm, who was staying ‘ in the house. Need it be said that the girl was the idimfiical heroine of the bicycle adventure? It- is the kind of thing that always happens in a. world made up of coincidences and disap- pointnanfis. The more: were introduced to one another in due course, and Mrs. Barld‘ny-Wil‘not remarked with an air of suppressed unpleasantness, “I believe know my husband?" “I ‘ 1111 not,” said the girl. "What +- what is his name?" This was rather a childish quesâ€" tion to’ uni, but it is probable that the girl. was not even aware that gush u'fiflv' as the Barkingâ€"Wilâ€" But Mrs. Barking- to the occasion. mots existed. Wilmot was equal “Curiously an air of name is the same as my own. I am Mrs . Barkingâ€"Wilmot. ’ ' Instead of being properly crushed by this reply, Miss Davidson, who 0 9 ‘ ’ ‘ ‘ °..‘;«:»:»:»:u;»fi I seemed to possess a sense of humor, and this had the effect of increasing Mrs. Barkingâ€"Wilmot’s annoyance until it became a. public danger. “I trust you spent a pleasant af- ternoon on Saturday in my husâ€" band’s company,” she observed. The girl colored with indignation, and again said that she was not acquainted with Mrs. Barkingâ€"Wilâ€" motfis husband, and, as far as she knew, had never seen him in her life. She added also that she had not been aware until that moment that Mrs. Bai‘kingâ€"‘Wilmot had a husband, and that she could only feel ex- tremely sorry for him. There were two or three other visitors present, and an attempt was made to regard the matter lightly â€"â€" as a kind of mild joke. But it was not easy to treat the wrath of Mrs. Barkingâ€" Wilmot as ~joke. She had a re- cord to maintain. She had driven two vicars out- of the parish and broken the heart of at least one curâ€" ate, and she was not at all disposed to allow a “chit of a girl" to carry on with her own husband. So she returned to the conversa- tion with a stout heart, and produc- ed her purse, in which she had arought a rough proof of the fatal photograph. “Perhaps you will accept a copy of the photograph, which some third party seems to have taken, in which you and my husband are clearly en- jdying yourselves," she said, with a smile which would have broken the back of a rocking-horse, The poor girl was aghast when she saw an excellent print of herself being embraced by a man she didn’t know, and she made a confused at- tempt to “explain” it. But the two or three ladies preâ€" sent were all married, and public opinion went dead against Miss Dav- idson, who, after a gallant attempt to outflank the enemy by suggesting a. “horrid conspiracy," was obliged to leave the room with her cheeks ablaze with indignation.. War having been declared, the two ladies proceeded to mobilize their forces without delay. Miss Davidson communicated by telegram with her father, a canny, careful Scotchman, and hinted that she was being grossly slandered by an “old cat” named Barkingâ€"Wilâ€" mot. She also went to the nearest telephone callâ€"office and rang up the gentleman to whom she was engagâ€" ed. She suggested that Mr. Wolfen- stein, who was six feet high, and proportionately broad, should join her as early in the evening as pos- sible and proceed to exterminate Mr. Barkingâ€"Wilmot, the innocent cause of all the trouble. Mr. Wolfenstein, being of a somewhat pugnacious dis- position, made definite inquiries as to Mr. Barvingâ€"Wilmot’s size and weight, and, finding that he was inâ€" significant in appearance, accepted his sweetheart’s suggestion gladly. In the meantime, Mrs. Barking- Wilmot was not idle. After lodging her complaint with the vicar, who lived in daily terror of her, and suggesting that her husband was not a fit person to become a church- warden, she proceeded to the office of a local solicitor, and insisted, in the face. of his positive advice to'the contrary, on preparing the way for matrimonial proceedings against her husband. Consequently, on reaching home Mr. Barking-Wilmot found a royal welcome awaiting him. His wife had worked herself into a state of hysteria bordering on temporary inâ€" sanity, and done as much mischief in a couple of hours as could well be expected from a middle-aged woman who was the mother of eight child- ren. He was at a loss to under- stand the cause of the commotion. The photograph of himself in the act of embracing an extremely pretâ€" ty girl was, of course, very start- ling, but he didn’t associate it at first with his six-andâ€"ninepenny cam- era; neither 'was he aware that his- wife had made the personal acquain- tance of MiSS Davidson, and that in consequence of his wife’s ridiculous statements the young lady was an- ticipating with much pleasure an acâ€" tion for slander. His wife was in a condition that made rational explanation impossi- ble. But the little man was not al- together unaccustomed to these pro- ceedings, and, postponing the subâ€" ject of dinner to a more fighting time, he thoughtfully placed his wife’s feet in hot water, and applied a violent mustard plaster to the back of her neck. It was not the first time that these simple, homely remedies had saved her life. After whipping the tw0 youngest children severely for giving extreme- ly humorous but disrespectful imi- tations of their mother, the little man stepped across the road to the house where Miss Davidson was stay- ing, for the pm‘pose of making 'a gentlemanly explanation. He handed his card to the servant, and the door was immediately slam- med in his face. ' He returned home with his nerves considerably shaken, and found his wife's solicitor waiting for him in the drawing-room with the cheerful tidings that matrimonial proceedings would be instituted in the morning. Searcer had the man of law left the house when Mr. Wolfenstein ar- rived. He had an overbearing Ger- man accent with manners to corresâ€" pond, and he proceeded to state his opinion of Mr. Barking-Wilmot with Teutonic accuracy and wealth of de- enough," she said, with lence. bland offensiveness, “his nor even annoyed, because he had no tail. Mr. Barking-Wilmot leaned back in his chair and listened in siâ€" He was not at all offended notion who Mr. Wolfenstein was, where he came from, nor what he lwas talking about. In the course of 'time, however, Mr. Wolfenstein pro- ceeded to state his opinion of his wife, and this the little man couldn’t stand. With that instinctive loyalâ€"- ty which I have so often observed in down-trodden husbands, the - bewilâ€" dered little chap flared up in a minâ€" ute, and threatened to cast the Teuâ€" ton out of the house. He was only fiVe feet one inch high, and the posi- tion had something in it of humor. But the German was not in the nde to be ahruzed. He seized the herd of this story by the collarnn hero of this story by his collar and the left leg of his trousers, and, without any apparent effort, carried him into the hall, opened the front door, and flung the master of the house out on to his own lawn. He then smashed all the hats that he could find in the hall, broke the umbrellas, destroyed the hat stand, and left the house staffing that the following morning he would insti- tute proceedings for assault. In the meantime Mrs. Barking- Wilmot had been awakened from a brief sleep by the commotion, and, being thrown into a new state of ex- citement, again became hysterical. Mr. Barkingâ€"Wilmot returned to his house and tried to review the situation calmly. So far as the could understand, three separate ac- tions would be brought against him in the. morning -â€" an action for slander by Miss Davidson, an action for assault by Mr. Wolfenstein, and matrimonial proceedings by his wife. His hall was wrecked and his wife was prostrate. It really isn’t easy to imagine how the affair would have ended. But solution came from the least’ expected quarter. There was a knock at the front door, and Mr. Barkingâ€"Wilmot himâ€" self answercd it, as both the serâ€" vants had left on the ground that they objected to living in a madâ€" house. On opening the door ‘he found standing on the step the very charmâ€" ing original of the photograph that had given all the trouble. “I want to come in, please," she said. “That is, if you will promise to lock up your camera and not let it play any further tricks on us.” Without waiting for an invitation, she led the way into the drawing- room. “Now, I want you to ask Mrs. Barkingâ€"Wilmot to come in here, as I have something important to say to her,” remarked the young lady, seating herself comfortably in the best chair in the room. “Are you â€" are you acquainted with my wife?” he stammered; “do you think it wise to ask for an in- tervi ew‘? ’ ’ “I think I am prepared to face the consequences, awful though they may be," said the girl. He staggered out of the room, quite believing in his heart that beâ€" fore morning broke there would be bloodshed. When she heard the mes- sage his wife rose from her bed with a look of truly awful indignation on her face. But the interview was a brief and extremely successful one. Miss Dav- ids-on remarked that her father had come down to see her, and that she believed that Mrs. Barking-Wilmot was already acquainted with her faâ€" ther. Mrs. Barking-Wilmot denied the suggestion with an air of gloomy for- Miss Davidson persisted sweetly that her father was an old friend of Mrs. Barkingâ€"Wilmot’s, and Mrs. Barklng-Wilmot hinted that Miss Davidson was not speaking the truth. The young lady, quite unâ€" ruflled by this last thrust, produced from her purse a photograph, just as Mrs. Barkingâ€"Wilmot had producâ€" ed one from her purse earlier in the day. “Father brought this over with him from home,” she said. “And he thinks you will recognize it.” It was a very faded photograph, taken, oh, :1. great many years ago, and showed a lanky young man sit- ting in arm chair with his arm round the waist of a girl whose dress looked quaintly old-fashioned. The girl was sitting comfortably on the arm of the chair, and, faded though the photogrth was, there was an unmistakable resemblance in the young girl’s face to the middle- aged features of Mrs. Barking-Wil- mot. “Is -â€"- is your father Birkett Dav; idson?” she stammered. “If so, Iâ€" I remember him quite well.” “You and . he seem to have been great friends,” said Miss Davidson, slyly. “But it must have been a great many years ago. Now, how many years would it be?” But Mrs. Barkingâ€"Wilmot was not disposed to go into the delicate sub- ject of the number of years that had elapsed since the time when she and young Davidson had been sweet- hearts, and peace was signed forth- with, and all insinuations, charges, and libels unreservedly withdrawn. Mrs. Barking-Wilmot discovered that Miss Davidson was a -“sweet girl," and kissed her af‘f'ffectionately in the neighborhood of the left car before she left the house. Nevertheless, she told her hus- ban‘d gloomily that she had her own opinion of the matter, and apparent- ly found unalloyed joy in the fact that “he had forfeited her confidence for ever." Which shows how foolish it is to handle a. cheap camera carelessly â€"â€" especially if you are a married man. . â€"Lon'don Tit-Bits. DERFUL RECORDS. m Many Times Ruined, Have Paid Every Dollar v They Owed. In spite of being ruined over and over again, and assailed by years of ill-fortune, that would have crushed almost any man, a silver casket, with £125 in gold, has just been presented to Mr. Charles Good- Son, Of NorWiCh: as 3 Prize for PluCk tall his fortunes and misfortunes. and honesty which no amount of bad luck could beat, says London Answers. When in business at Norwich. 23 years ago, a bundle of misfortunes caused him ‘to make a deed of asâ€" signment, and his creditors accepted a dividend of 83. 5d. in the pound, for bad luck had “let him in” for £5,000 in liabilities. He gave up every penny, and emigrated to New Zealand in the hope of wiping out the deficit. By hard work day and night he gradually built up a busiâ€" ness, and saved £6,000. When on the point of sending this to Engâ€" land to his creditors â€" although they had no further legal claim on him â€" a blight fell suddenly on all trade in the Colony, and hundreds were plunged into ruin from which the country has SCARCELY RECOVERED YET. Mr. Goodson’s little fortune, built up by hard work, was swept away with the rest. For the third time he began again from the beginning, anti for twelve years fought against stroke after stroke of bad luck, but finally 'built up a third business, and paid his New Zealand creditors in Stillâ€"£4, 500. Eighteen months ago he sent a cheque to England for £992, and only a few months back came home to Norwich, called a meeting of his creditors 23 years before, and paid them to the last penny, in all, £1,~ 795. The creditorsrrewarded this record of pluck and honesty by giving him a silver casket and £125, which was presented by Mr. Gurney Buxton, the wellâ€"known Norwich banker. Martyn’s-Stead Farm, on the Linâ€" coln coast, is an up-toâ€"date monuâ€" ment of extraordinary “grit” in the face of wave after wave of crushing bad luck. Mr. Marten Martyns was A YEOMAN FARMER who shared in the general break- down of; agriculture some years ago, add his farm, which his forefathers had 2held for three hundred years, was eventually sold up. The ruin was complete, but attach- ed to the farm, and not included in the sale, was a big track of salt- marsh and foreshore, through the channels of which the sea flowed. It was of no value as it was, but an ancient charter gave him the right of it, and he set to work to bank the tide out and save it from the sea. In three years he succeeded, and began to carry out his scheme, which was to graze cattle on the salty grass. This diet will put nearly a stone weight a week on bullocks. The plan acted well, and just as. the owner had ready a splendid herd of cattle for market, which would have raised a price to set him up for life, the foot-andâ€"mouth disease, as it is called, seized the beasts, anld all had to be killed. Ruined a second time, Mr. Martyns started again, but on the brink of successthe sea broke down the emâ€" bankments and FLOODED THE LAND. Completely ruined this time, the unâ€" fortunate owner went to a colony and started a cattle ranch, after working for a wage three years to earn the money to start it. He prospered in spite of difficulties, and in twelve years saved £8,000. Full of belief in his salt pastures at home, he left for home with the money, and - was robbed of every penny in a now famous “holdâ€"sup” of the mail train in which he was traveling in 1879. He went back, and after a time managed to start the ranch again, saved £2,000 more, and eventually saved the Martyn’sâ€"Stead Farm, as the big salt pastures are called. He retired wort-h £12,000 a year ago, and his son owns and works the prosnerous pastures at present â€"â€" a lasting mark of doggedness. A record worth knowing by anyâ€" body Who feels that luck is against him, is that of Mr. Norman Good- yer, who came out on top by his own exertions after five separate ruinous misfortunes,. and managed to keep the Goodyer Orphanage at Newport. which provides for ten parentless children, regularly going all the time, even when penniless and working with his hands for day wages. Starting on nothing, he made his first fortune against treâ€" mendous opposition, out of patented inlventions for woolâ€"combing and cotton-spinning, and lost the whole of it by his cashier, who “levanted” with over £12,000. BROKEN DOWN IN HEALTH, Mr. Goodyer started all over again, and in five years got everything straight, and made £20,000 by a. dye‘works which he built up from the fruits of his own labor. He started a small private orphanage at Newport, to cash, and kept it endowed always three years ahead“ Foreign com- petition and a ruinous lawsuit left him penniless within a year, howevâ€" er, but he got a job as railway out- porter, and even then contrived to send a. little money to his orphane take up his spare ' STDRIES UF PLUUKY MEN. some WHO HAVE'MADE wom‘ age, which was still running on the endowment he had left it. Getting a little cash together from his earn- ings, he started a coffeeâ€"stall in Bir- mingham, which soon became a hoâ€" tel, and gained _ him another. for- tune, ,worth £2,000 a year. 111- and Yet health came down on him, and his to seed, for he Could not look after it, but before the crash came he re-endowed his or- phan-age, and paid everyone in full. Broken in purse and health, in a year he started again, succeeded as an ironâ€"founder at Wolverhampton, and died last year owing no man a penny, but leaving £17,000 out of business ran All that bad luck and the worst moods of the sea. combined could bring to bear on Captain Stevens Cortwright, of Hull, could not crush him altogether, for though they brought him down six times, he BOBBED UP SERENELY at last. He was skipper and owuer of a trading schooner, the “Florrie Ford,” having started as a ship’s bOy; and she brought him £600 pro- fit the first ’year, after he had work- ed fifteen years to get her. At the end of the first year she was run in- to and sunk off the Belgian coast by an unknown vessel â€" £600 and all â€"- and Captain Cortwright had to serve two years before the mast on another man’s ship to earn his bread. Becoming prompted suddenly to skipper, he-came upon a derelict off the Scotch coast, the salvage of which yielded him £1,000, and this he turned into £3,000 in eight years by purchasing and wonking txvo herring smacks. In the big gale of 1881 both vessels were lost in a night, and he, on heard one of them, lost his leg through a spar falling on it. Three more years’ work with noth- ing to start on but sheer hard work and brains, produced him £4,000, which he invested “off the sea” â€"â€" which means inlandâ€"and it was all lost promptly in the fraudulent crash of a. big" publishing firm which ruined many people some years ago. He started a shipbuilding yard which began to prosper, when the big tidal deluge that swapt the easi coast a few years back invaded it. and broke down the scaffoldings ant shipways, smashing up the half- built vessels, and involving him in heavy liabilities. Ill and crippled, but undaunted, he worked as a ship. ' broker’s clerk for some time, final- ly starting a business of the samt kind for himself, yielding a little fortune of £20,000, which he in- vested in Consols and retired, sc that, unless the British Empire fails, he is safe. NAPOLEON’S BAD IVRITING. Mr. Andrew Lang Explains Why He Failed at Waterloo. Napoleon, according to Alexandei Dumas, lo'st such battles as he did lose because he wrote such a fiend‘ ish hand. His generals could not read his notes and letters, type- writing had not been invented, and the trembling Marshals, afraid. o: disobeying, and striving to intel‘prel the indecipherable commands, loiter‘ ed, wandered, and did not come u); to the Scratch, or not to the right scratch. Thus Waterloo was lost Cannot you fancy Grouchy handing round Napoleon’s notes on that sau guinary Sunday ? “I say," criei the Marshal to his aideâ€"de5camp, “ii that word Gembloux or Wavre ? I: this Blucher .or Bulow ‘2” So pro. bably Grouchy tossed up for it, am the real words may have been mom of these at which he offered his con- jectures. Meanwhile on the left ant centre D’Erlon and Jerome am Ney were equally puzzled, and kepi on sending cavalry to places when .it was very uncomfortable (though our men seldom managed to hit any of the‘cavaliers, firing too high), and did no sort of good. Napoleon may never have been apprised of these circumstances. Ilis old writing master was not on the scene of action. Nobody dared to say, “Sire, what does this figure of a centipeda mean, and how are we to construe these two thick strokes flanked by blots ‘2" The Imperial temper was peppery ; the great man would have torn off his interrogator’s epaulettes and danced upon them; Did he not once draw his pistol to shoot a lit- tle dog that barked at his horse ? And when the pistol missed fire, the great soldier threw it at the dog, and did not hit him. The little dog retreated with the honors of war. Such was the temper of Napoleon, and we know what Marlborough thought of the value of an cquable temiper. Nobody could ask Bonaâ€" parte to write a legible hand, so his generalsdived a life of conjectures as to his meaning, and Waterloo was not a success, and the Emperor nevâ€" er knew why. Of all his seven or eight theorhs of his failure at Waterloo, his hand-writing was not one. Yet if this explanation had occurred to him, Napoleon would certainly have blamed his pens, ink and paper. Those of Nelson, at Copenhagen, were very bad. “If your guns are no better than your pens,” said a Danish officer (who came in under a flag of truce before the fight, and was asked to put a message in writing), you, had better retire.” ._____+- Tourist (in South America) â€" "Couldn’t some of these disputes be settled by arbitration?” Native â€" “Mere waste of time. We could ,‘ln- is‘h ten revolutions in the time re quired for one arbitration."