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1; n 15“ ...81 dis n1 “Why, I cannot say that. but she seemed very set upon it. and women have their fancies. There's‘ young Muster Stone here who wouldn't refuse to in end see a good lady, I’ll warrant, it e thought he might better his for- tune by doing so.” “Well, uncle, I’ll go it Roddy Stone will go with me,” said Jim. “0! course he’ll go. Won’t you, Master Rodney?” So it ended in my saying “yes,” and back I went with all my news to my mother, who dearly loved a little bit of gossip. She shook her hegd when she heard where I was I goxng, but the did not any nay, and so it was set- 1? was a good four miles of a walk. but when we reached it you would not wishtoneenmorecolylitflehomal honeysuckle and creepers, with u wood~ en porch and lattice windows. A com~ non-looking woman opened the door for “But I’ve promised. Jim, and you wouldn’t make me’ out a liar. She does but want to talk with you. for it in a mag life sh§_le:}ds.” -â€"_...., â€"-- __- “What would she want to talk wi no]: 3. gm about?" . Férailemoaiml’mstwdw "‘5:- don't want her help, uncle, and I don’t want to see hgr.”_ "Very well, ma'am," said John, staring from her to his uncle. “And happy, too?” “Yes, pa’am, I thank you.” “‘Npthxng that you crave for?” ‘ ‘Why, no, ma'am,-I have all that I lack.” , “That will do, Jim." said his uncle, in a stern voice. “Blow up the forge aggin, {or that shoe wants reheating; 1 “8...“, -v. .u..- .m.-- But it seemed as if the woman had something else that she would say, for she was angry that he should be sent away. Her eyes gleamed, and her head tossed. while the smith with his two big buds outspread seemed to be sooth- ing her as best he could. For a. long time they whispered until at last she engined to be satisfied. o-morrow, then?” she cried loud out. “Io-marrow,” he answered. “You keep your word and I’ll keep mine." said she. and dropped the lash on the pony’s back. The smith stood with the nsp in his hand, looking after her until she was just a little red spot on the white road. Then he turned, ad I never saw his, 18:09}? grge. ALA-V guy, “IVUJ A "V“...yv Champion Harrison hid been shoeing a horse at the forge door, and when 1 got into the street I could see him With thr- creature’s hoot still under his arm. and the rasp in his hand. kneeling down amid the white purings. The woman was beckoning him from the chaise. and he staring up at her with the queerest expression upon his face. Presently he threw down his rasp and went across to her. standing by the wheel and shak- ing his head as he talked to her. For my part. I slipped into the smithy. where Boy Jim was finishing the shoe. and I watched the neatness of his work and deft way in which he turned up the caulkens. W'hen he had done with it he carried it out and there was the strange woman still talking with his uncle. “Is that he?” I heard her ask. Champion Harrison nodded. She looked at Jim, and I never saw such eyes in a human head, so large and black, and wonderful. Boy as I was, I knew that, in spite of. that bloated face. this woman had once been very beauti- 1'u_l. She out out a hand, with all the fingers going as it she were playing on the harpsichord, and she touched Jim on the shoulder. “Jim.” said he, “that’s Miss Hinton, who has come to live at The Maples, out Anstey Cross way. She’s taken a. kind of a fancy to you, Jim, and maybe she can help you a. bit. I promised her that you yould go over and see her tomor- mother. “What is amiss with her, mother?" “Heaven forgive me if. I misjudge her. Rndney. but I think that the unfortunate woman has been drinking.” “\V’hy, I cried, “she has pulled the rhaise up at the smithy. I‘ll find out all the news for you ;" and. catching up mgrcnp, pm; I ‘scamper‘ed‘. , -k -AB-‘m l'- uunu w; .--...,.,.. v "" queerest-looking person that I had v r scon. She was very stout. with a fam- that was of so dark 8. red that it shaded away into purple over the nose and cheeks. She wore a. great but with :1 white curling ostrich feather, and i'w m under its brim her two bold, black mos: r-mred out with a look of anger :swl dMiance as i!‘ to tell tho folk that slu- thought less of them than they could do of her. Sh" had some sort of scarlot vax'SO with whit ~ swansdown about ‘m r nook. and she held the reins slack in 'w-r hands. while the pony wandered frum side to side of the mod ag the 'Reprinted by permission from the lllustnbed edition published in Bell's lndinn 1nd Colonisl Libnry, by the Coup Clark 00., Led. “Good gracious!” she cried. “What a vulgar-kmking woman!” It was so rare to hear my mother say a hard word against anybody (unless it was General Buonaparte) that I was m-mss the room and at the window in a jump. A pony-chaise was coming slow- I-.- down the village street. and in it was an -“mmgmnnkinz Dex-son that I had 'r'nln"‘;€ai~"to side of the road as the fancy took him. Each time the chant swayed, her head with the great but swayed also, .30 that sometimes we saw the crown of It and _soxqetin}_es the brim. “I 110ka hope you‘re well,” she stun» meted. , Wadi“ Eur-t. RODNEY STONE, Au" u v _..._ --__ “\i‘ but a dreadful sight!” cried LINDSAY. FRIDAY OCT. 1, 1897. By A. Conan Doyle. Askyotu-groccflot “And which do you think the prettiest of them?” _ “Why, that!” said I, pointmz to a picture which hung opposite to me. It was of a. tall and slender girl, with the rosiest cheeks and the tenderest eyes-â€" so daintily dressed, too. thzt I had never seen anything more ect. She had a posy or flowers in er hand and un- other one was lying upon the plank: or weed mnhwhlch she?“ Mint- .- n gi-‘iher. She led the way into a cosy roomâ€"the same which we had caught a. glimpse of when last we cameâ€"and there, in the middle, was a. table with white napen', and shining glass, and gleaming china, and red-cheeked apples piled upon a con- tre dish, and a great plateful of smok- ing mumps which the cross-faced maid had just carried in. You can think that we did justice to all the good things, and Miss Hinton would ever keep pressing us to pass our cup and to fill our plate. Twice during our meal she rose from her chair and withdrew into a cupboard at the end of the room. and each time I saw Jim's face cloud. for we heard a gentle clink gfrglass against sigma. “Come now, little man," said she to me. when the table had been cleared. “Why are you looking round so much?" Because there are so many pretty. thingsfipgy _th_e walls.” SHE HELD THE REINS SLACK IN MEI: HANDS. when I looked at Jim to . see how he took it, he was looking quite white and ill. “You’ll not tell any one, Roddy." said he. “Not unless it’s my mother.” “I wont eyen tell my uncle. I'll say she was ill, the poor Indy! It’s enough that we should have seen her in her shame. without its being the gossip of the village. It makes me feel sick and heavy at heart.” “She was so yesterday, Jim.” “Was she? I never marked it. But I know that she has kind eyes and a kind heart. for I saw the one in the other when she looked at me. Maybe it’s the want of a friend that has driven her to this}: - _ .-. - . , , W LL11 unnu- ‘ ‘My uncle has had a letter,” said he. “She would speak with me. and I 331” be easier it you came with me, 96: me it was only a pleasure outinc. but I éould see. as we drew near the house, that Jim was troubling in‘ lns mind lest we should find that thmgs were amiss. His fears were soon set at rest, however, for we had scarce choked the garden gate before the woman was out of the door or the cottage and run- nmg down the path to meet us. She was so strange a figure, with some sort or purple wrapper on. and her big. flushed face smiling out of it, that might. if I had been alone, have taken to my heels at the sight of her. Even Jim stopped for a moment as it he were not very sure of himself, but her hearty ways soon set us at our ease. ‘ do you call your friend?” “Boy Jim, ma'am," said I. “Then if you will not think me foy- ward, I will call you Boy Jim also. We elderly people have our privileges, you know. And now you shall come With me. and we will take a dish or tea to- ,vu nun» She threw open a. door as she spoke, and there, in a reclining chair nt the further end of the room we caught a glimpse of a figure lumped together, huge and shapeless, with tails of black hair hanging down. The sound of dreadful, swine-like breathing fell upon our am. It was but a glance, and then we were off hot-foot for home. As for me. I was so young that I was not sure whether this: was funny or terrible: but uL’L LV tun-4. It blighted his spirits for days. and when it had all gone from my mind it was brought back to me by his mam- ner. But it was not to be our last me- mory of the lady with the scarlet pelisse, for before the week was out Jim came round to ask me if I would again go up with him. _ . - . .. n 79. L- Bu:- “But she asked us to come.” said Jim. “I can’t help that,” cried the woman, in a. rude voice. “I tell you that she can’t see you." We stood irresolute tor a minute. “Maybe you would just tell her I am here." said Jim. at last. “Tell her! How um I to tell her when she couldn't IO much us hear a pistol in her ears? Try and tell her yourself, if you have a. mind to." " ‘ ‘r~7 â€"â€" â€"‘-- _-L‘ nun. up unc Iluua. ‘You must let me know you, and know you well,” she said. “Your uncle and aunt are quite old acquaintances of mme. and though you cannot remember me, I have held you in 'my arms when you were an infant. Tell me, little man,” she added, turnjng to me, “what “It is indeed good of you to come and see an old, lonely woman." said sh». “and I owe you an apology that I should fire you a fruitless journey on Tuesday. but in a sense'you were yourselves the cause of it, since the thought of your coming had excited me, and any excito- ment throws me into a nervous fever. My poor nerves! You can see for your. solves how they_ serve _me.." u,,,1_ -. S}; 13316 éfii’héé' fvjviEéfiing hands as she spoke. Then she passed one of thpm through Jim’s arm, and walked thh hinLuv theAvélt‘h- . ,,,,, _ ".1 “Oh, that’s the nFéttiest. is m" we “Miss fight: cannot see you.”- said 'CEYLON TEA- Load m mgssogocflm‘ .,___ - .. .__, -'_-_-â€"â€"- _So the promise was made and very tnxthtully did Jim keep it, for many a time when I have wanted him to go nah mg or rabbit-snubs, he has remembered that it was his day for Miss Hinton, and has mmpled on to Anstey Cross. At fifit‘I think that she found her share or the bargain hard to keep, and I have seen _Jim come back with a black face on him as it things were going amiss. But after a. time the fight was wonâ€" ” all fights are won 1: one does but fight long enoughâ€"end in the year be- fore my father came back Miss Hinton had become another woman. And it was not her ways only, but herself as well. for from being the person that I have described, she became. in one twelve- month as fine 9. looking lady as there was in the whole country-side: Jim was. prouder or it ban-film 0;! any- tlnnghehadhada dminhuhre. butitwuonlytomethntheemspoke about it for he had that tenderness to- "011, you rune awe w; w w .. .â€" such a tone,” said she: ‘(u it a phy- actresg wasn't as good as any one else. Why, ’twns but the other day that the Duke .02 Clarence, who may come to call hunself King of England. married Mrs. Jordan. who is herself only a play- actress. And whom thmk you that this one is 2” She stood under the picture with her arms folded across her great body. and her big black eyes looking from one to the other of us. “Why, where are your eyes ?" she cried at last. “I was Miss Polly Hm- ton of the Haynarket Theatre. And perhaps you never heard the name be- fore.” .. u A, ___--.... ‘Lgb m. u: I did as she asked, 3nd read out: “Miss Polly Hinton. a: Tea!) in The Country Wife. played for her benefit at iii); Ea. 't'n'ket Theate. September ‘ . . “It's a play-am" said I. “_Oh, you rgde lx‘tflg my‘Lto say It in she. laughing. "Well. flow. talk up to it. mid let a: hen what is writ be- neath it.” - - - ,,3 ._‘_ SAMBA” 1011:. We were compelled to confess that we never had. And the very name of play-actress had filled us both with a kind of vague horror. like the country- bred folk that we were. To us they were a class a to be ninted nt rath- er than nam , with the wrath of the Almighty han ' g over them like a thundercloud. ndeed. His judgments seemed to be .in visible Opel-Mun be- fore us when we looked upon what thus b«n\u "- “You are too good and kind for that,” said he. “Good !” she cried. “‘V ell, I love that you should thin]; me so. And It would make you happier if I xe t from the brandy, Jim ? Well, then, ’11 mlge you a promise, it you’ll make me one m re- turn.” ~ "What‘s that, mien?" . . “No .drop shall pass my .llps, Jun, it you wdl swear, wet or shme, blow or snow, to come up here twice in every week, that I may nee you, and speak wzth you, for, indeed, there no tune! when l am very lonesome.”_ ed her head and pouted with her lips as she answered back to the old, bent figure that addressed her. Jim and 1 had torgqtten our tears, and were hold- ia-z our nbs before she came to the end of it. _ u. ,A .- Iâ€"‘v‘. .- _ â€"‘ .â€"_-- “Yon are too young for strong waters." Ihe Bald, “but this talking gives one a dryness, andâ€"" Then it was that Boy Jim did a won- derful thing. He rose from his chair, and he laid his hand upon the bottle. “Don’t!” said he. . §he looked him in the race. and 1 can atfll see those black eyes or her: loftcn- mg before the gaze. “Am I to have none 7” “Etienne, don’t.” Wxth a quick movement she mud the bottle out or his hand and raised it an no that for a moment it entered my head that she was about to dnnk it off. '.l_‘hen she flun it through the open lat- tme, and we eard the crash or it on th9_path amids- .- I A()n__ AL-‘ “TEE; “5137’? said she; “does that satisfy you? It’s long since any One cared whether I dunk 03-310.? _ .u A n a (In. u. “It was but the thought of that poor woman and her child." “Tut, never think abet her! I win ”(3n wipe her from your mind._ This is ‘sto Priscilla Tomboy,’ from The Roam. Ill â€":1nu bur Lul uxu u ...... _- Words of fire, such lightning eyes and sweeping of her white hand. that rhe held us spellbound in our chairs. Her voice was soft and sweet. and persua- sive at the first. but louder it rang, and louder as it spoke of wrongs and free- dom and the joys of death in a good cause. until it thrilled into my every nerve. and I asked nothing more than to run out of the cottage and to die then and there in the cause of my coun- try. And then in an instant she chang- ed. She was a poor woman now, who had lost her only child, and who was bewailing it. Her voice was full of tears. and what she said was so simple. so true. that we both seemed to see the dead babe stretched there on the car- pet before us. and we could hue join- ed in with words of pity and of grief. And then. before our cheeks were dry, she was back into her old self again. “How like you that, then '2" ahc cried. “That was my way in the days when Sally Siddons would turn green at the name of Polly Hinton. It’s a fine play, in Pizarro.” “And who wrote it, ma’am 7” ““‘ho wrote it '1 I never heard. “'hat matter who did the writing or it ! But there are some great lines for one who knows how they should be spoken." “And you play no longer, ma’am '3" “No. Jim, I left the ards whenâ€" when I was weary of em. But my heart goes back to them sometimes. It seems to me there is no smell like that of the hot oil in the footlixzhts, and of the oranges in the pit. But you are sad. J im.” - . .. .u ,,h_kL -1 ALA; unnu- " V. ".0. And shv begun a scene between the two u! then), so exact in voice and mum ner that it seemed to us as if there were really two folk before us : the stern old mother. with her hand up like an ear- trumpet, and her flouncing. bouncing daughter. Her great figure danced about with a wonderfulAlightncgs, aha qhe 1988- v- .â€" “That is better,” said she, smilmg at our laughter. “I would not have you go back to Friar‘s Oak with long faces. 01‘ maybe they would not let you come to_;ne agajq.” _ . . . n l __A been me :" Jim’s pride brought a flush on to his cheeks, for he did not hke to be called a. country lad, or to have it supposed that he was I0 far behind the grand talk in London. “I have never been inside a play- house." said he. “I know nothing 0! them." “Nor I either." “Vb'ellfi’fipaid she. .“I am not in voice, A IELA‘- “A... Ly“ w. u «A... "Sic varnished into her cupbou'd, apd came out with a bottle and glass, which shg_placed upon the tame. _ AA--- 9: “'Well.” said she, “I am not in voice, and it is ill to play in a little room with but two to listen. but you must conceive me to be the Queen of the Peruvians. who is exhortinc her countrymen to rise up against the Spaniards, who are oppos- ing them.” And straightaway that course. swollen woman became a queenâ€"tho grandest. hautiest queen that you could dream of â€"nna she turned upon us with such \n\ D..- Aug. And straightaway that woman became a queen hautiest queen that you â€":md she, turned_ umm‘ flfllflflfls BEBIJIIINHII] THE CANADIAN POST, LINDSAY: as. _tODcnlnl:P-3lu:ruw* , thh the wrath of the m hanfing over them like a d. ndeed. His judgments be .in visible operation be- en we looked upon what this s, and what she hafi been. said she, laughing liks one He sprang out as he spoke, 151d With one leg and a staff he hopped mckly up the path, and under the mute-bordered motto, and so over his own threshold for the first time for five years. When the post-boy and I had carried up the m- chest 1nd the two canvas bagsb there he was sitting in his armchair y the mndow in his old weather-stained blue coat. My mother was wee-pm: over his [poor leg, and he pattmg her hair with . one brown head. His other he threw round my waist, and drew me to the ride of his chair. “Now that we hnve ce. I can lie up and refit until Rig?“ eorge needs me again," said he. “ as a carronade that came ndrltt in the bay when It _.__ u-..:..- . Onmnnnnt breeze “Now that we have ce. 1 can ue up and refit until King George needs me again," said he. “’Twns a carromde that came adrift in the bay when_ it was blowing a top-gallant breeze With a beam sea. Ere we could make it fut, it had me jammed against the aunt. Well, well," he added, looking round at the walls of the room. “here are :11 my old curios, the same as ever: the nar- "s"- vuu Ill-u svnuv. -_ . _ And then suddenly it cune home to Ill both that for all his cheery face he had never moved more than his ums. and that his leg was resting 0n the opposite «or or the chute. _ “Oh. Anson. Anson 1" she med. ‘f’l‘ut, ’tis put the bone or my lei.” said he. taking his knee between his hands .and litung it round. “I got at broke m the boy. but the surgeon hay fished it and sphced it, though it'snbtt crank yet. Why, bless her hndlyhenrt. if I haven't turned her from pmk to whxte. You can see for yourselt that it’s nothing.” He sprang out no he spoke. and with one leg and a. stat! he hopped mckly up the path, and under‘the lure-bordered llblllus'nw \5vn A uuu .-____-_ 7 to go with him to the mill-stream). when what should I nee but u post-chaise thh twa smoking horses at the. gate, and there in the open door of It were my mother's black skirt and her httle feet jutting out. with two blue arms for 21 waist belt, and all the rest or her buried in the chmse. Away I run for the motto. and I pinned it up on the bushes an we had agreed. but when I had flushed there were the skirts and the feet and the hlue arms just the same no before. “Here's Rod." said 1:31 mother at last. strtrgling down on to e ground again. “Roddy. darling. here‘s your tether-l" _I saw the red face and the kmdly. light-blue eyes looking out at me. '_'\\‘hy, Roddy, Ind, you were but u ehtld and we kissed good-bye when last we met : but I nuppose we must put you on a difierent rating now. I’m right glad from my heart to see you, dear Ind: and as to you. sweetheartâ€"4’ The blue nrms flew out. and there were the skirt and. the two feet fixed in the door exam. " “Here one the folk .cominz. Anson. said my mother, blushing. “Won t you get outmnnd come in with no?” u‘,,‘_ :A -.....A Ian-an tn Ill May a womn'. knee Was on the m0. and nanny ; womtD'l soul spent _ in joy nnd Wine“ when the news came with the 131101 the l?“ m m1 tint the premium of Dell“ and been settled. All England waved her :13an by day and twjmkled It by night. Even‘ in little Fnar'l Oak we had .onr tings flying hmvcly, nnd_ n clu- dle In. every window, with 3 b1: 6.3. zuttenng in the wind over the 00: of the um. ‘olk were weary of the war. tonwc fixafinbien at it (or fit FView». taking 0 n and Spain, 69 each 111 turn and altogether. fl that we had learned during that our little um Wu no match for the French on In navy was more than a match for them upon the water. We had tuned more credit. which we were wrely in need. of ’ ' 74 â€" -â€" - nu credit. which we were sorely In new u. ntter_t.he American business; an: utew colonies. which were welcome also for tin gape reason, but our debt had gone 0|! nuns md our console qmlunz. nnnl every Pitt stood “but. am. if we had known that there never could be peace between anoleon and ouoelves, no tintthhwuonly them otnnound. Ind‘not ot the battle, we should hnve been better ndvised has we fought it out Without I break. A: it was, the French got back the twenty thousand good sen.- men when we_hnd captured. nnd n fine Jr; ....:- unnulnrne u unuu .v _.,_ morning. I rememberâ€"a soft. spring rain. which sent up a not: smell from the brown earth and [uttered pleasantly upon the budding chestnuts behmgl our cugtnge. The sun had shone outta the owning and I had come dqwn With :9! fishing-rod (for 1 bed prgmlscd 1593:1133 She hz‘td cmhruidered a white "“o-l- come" upon a blue ground, With an an- ihur in red upon each side. and :1 humor of laurel leaves: and this mug to hang upon the two lilac bushes which flank- ed the cottage door. He could not have left the Mediterranean before .wc had this finished. and every tnornmg shc lmkcd to see it it were in its place and ready to be hanged. ",4 A n.-a-_. flan l'l'ilu) I‘M w unuhxv. . 4 But It was a weary tune before. the peace was ratified, and it was APT“ 0! next year before our great dgxx came round to us. It hxgd been ragx1198fl“ sether. His lace was burned or a red- inh color, as bright as a flower-pot, and ' ' ' nly forty were in any way pertnr , no have seen hlm turn on the instant from a younginh man to an elderly. His eyes especially were meshed around m wrinkles. u 13 natural (crane. puckered them all his life in facing faul wind and bitter weather. These 0.x cs were, perhaps, his strangest feature. for they were or a very clear and beautiful blue. whxch shone the brighter out ot that ruddy setting. By nature he must. have been a (air-shlnned man. for his 44...... -_n- .0 uus “5‘“ uâ€"~ _ r..-â€" hounds in a covert. was dashing from Sicily to Syria and back again to Na- ples. trying to pick up the lost scent. With the same good fighting man he served at the Nile. where the men or his command sponued and rammed and trained until, when the last tricolor had come down. they hore up the sheet an- chor and tell dead asleep upon the top of each other under the capstan bars. Then, as a second lieutenant, he was in one of those grim three-deckers with powder-blackened hulls and crimson scupper-holes, their spare cables tied round their keels and over their hul- warks to hold them together. which car- ried the news into the Bay of Naples. [“rom thence, as a reward for his ser- vices. he was transferred as first lieu- tenant to the Aurora frigate. engaged in cutting off supplies from Genoa, and in her he still remained until long after pence was dmlared. How well ' can remember his home coming! T ugh it is now eight-and- rorty years a . it is cleurl‘l‘ to me than the doings oi :xst week, for the memory of an old ma" is like one of‘thosc glasses which shows out what is at a distance and blurs al. that is near. . My mother had been in a tremble ever since the first pmor of the relimin- anes came to bur care. for s e knew that he might come as soon as his mes- sage. She said little. but she saddened my life by insisting that I should be for ever clean and tidy. \Vith ever." ramble of wheels. too, her eyes would :izmce towards the door. and her hands «on! up to smooth her pretty black hulr. Sha- hml t-mhniidvx‘od :| White "\Vt‘l' unuc. “Wyn Dunn-s â€"n. that ruddy setting. By nature he muft have been a. fair-skinned man. for Ins upper brow. where his esp cunqover 1t. was as white as mine. and hm close- eropped hair was tawny. He had served. as he was mud to say. in the last of our ships w ich had been chased out of the Mediterranean in '97, and in the first which had reâ€"emer- ed it in ’98. He was under Miller, as third lieutenant ot the Theseus. when our fleet, like a pack “LEW“ rox 7â€" A 1--â€" CHAPTER IV- m counn'y-dde and bmder life beyond" acumen thm a! the fl‘ccu -__.._ was made and mmthe fil- ONTARIO, j'CTOBER 1 “Twor 131531123 land-eight: pounds." I answered. “\Vhy. Anson. it is a fortune!" cried my mother. flaming" hands. . ‘Try you aga . dy!" said he,shnk- mg his pipe at me. "i‘here was the Xehec frigate out of Barcelona with twenty thousand Spanish dollars abound. which make four thousand of our pounds. Her hull should be worth an- other thousand. What's my share of that?" “A hundred pounds.” _ “Why, 1110 umr couldn't work It out quicker." e cried in his delight. “Here's for you again! We passed the Straits and worked up to the Azores. where we tell it with the La Sabxna from the Manritinsr with sugar and spices- A Tweive hundred nnda she’l --â€"â€" â€"_ 1-4:..- and Thom who had teached this forlorn and hopelel condition of body Ind mind hove fonnd new hope and rescue in the not of these undone remedies. “I In éhlrined with? the style- and gag-iii jec! muctuflhe waxwork. X consider I! I m ‘M'lzo .mygmmh cameo n cumin mm the refined and d Que-95mg: me‘wucgm M Dr. Pierc:’s (rut thouand- obook. "The Peop le’. Common Scone M Ad viner"u lentfreeinp: ptpet minty one-cent Mpg to pg coat of customs and nailing minor orclo bound {or swamps. Address. Dr. I. Y. Pietce. Wes, N. Y. Rev}. 1.11:0!” dwgnfivm "The Mtditermnean is not the station (or it. Anson. I have heard you my that it is the Atlantic for prize-mutter. and the Mmlitemnean tor honor." “I had a share of both last cruise. uhieh eonu‘s from changing a fineâ€"of- Lzmleship for n frigate. Now. Rodney. there are two pounds in every hundred due to me when the prize-courts I'm-e done with them. When we were watch- in: Mnssetm. of Genoa. we got a mat- fer nf seventy schooner-s. hrigs. and tar- fans. with wine. food. and powder. Lord Keith will want his finger in the pie. but man: for *he courts to settle. Put them at four pounds apiece *0 me. and what will the seventy brin‘z"_ _ n ' worth to me. Mn”. my dawns. um nercr again shall you soil your fingers or pinch upon my beggarly pay.” My dear mother had borne her long struggle wlthout a sign all these years. but now that the was so suddenly «and of lt all she fell mbhlnz upon his neck. uzoo nee more to find relief. 1 nook thc Idea Medial Discovery’ end‘ Favorite Preserl tion,’ Ind toozrent pniue cannot be givenor orthe rapid relief theyga ve me I am now free from the former troubles. and my God bless Dr. Pierce in :11 his under- hung: to c_ure pufl'eripz hugntpity: " overbonrd she some ‘ times drowns when there is a life huoyjus within a few strokes of ’ herâ€"ail because sh: doesn’t happen to se. it. Sick eople oflet rish in t e same way elp is within reach but they don" know just when it is. They be " come discouraged 1nd disgusted with takiu med ieines nu giv: 77 up in despair. ’ / Mrs. Mes? J. Séfwartboi : Saratogn. an an o.. â€"//// CAL, in n letter to Dr. R. V Pierce chief consulting physician of “It Invalids' Hotel nnd Surgienl Institute. Buf fnlo, N. Y., says: “I suffered {or fourteer ye‘airs with 1131121?) wenkness, nervogisnes: u: genera e i'ty, trying everyt ng 1 could find to help meâ€"nll to no "nil. Al- though 1 cu thorough] discouraged and disgusted with taking at ieine when I heard of Dr. Pieree'o medicines, [thought I gvoulo:~ your starlmrd quarter. “hut woum ue ycur near-st port?" Again I had to give it up. “Wu-H. I don't see that your gI-nxrn- play is much lu-ttor than your history." mid he. “You'd never get your certifi- t-zoh- at this mtv. Can you do addition? “'0". they. let us see if you can lot up In): prige monoyt” “'0". they. let us see if you can lot up my prize money.” flu shot a mischievous glance at my nmthor as he spoke. and shv hid down her Infinity: on her lap and looked very varnvsfly .lt him. “Yuu mver asked me about that. Mury." said he. "TIN' Mvditvrmnean is not the staticm fur it. Anson. I have heard you my i322 {1.131717 7 mom phi- '3” "Yrs. father." said I. though with less .N-nfidonce than before. Hm». mmtnm M I). m Madras?" I could anly shake my head. “If l'shnm l:~_\‘ thru-v leagues upon ,\"mr stnrlmm quarter. “hut would be your near-s: port?" Again I had to give it up. “\Vvil. I don't see that your_ gram-'3; fidvnce. . . “Then how many ml of the hue were at the battle of Camperdown?’ He ethook hi: head gravely when he found that I could not answer. “Why. there are men in the fleet who never had any schooling at all who could tell you that we had seven 74's. Ill-Yon 64's- .and two {SO-nun ships In the action. 'I’horo'n a picture on the wall of thc- (‘hflfl‘ of the Ca Ira. \‘n'hich were the ships that laid her aboard?" Again I had to confess that he had hon ton mo. thim I ever had. put 1 unn: u, . make shit: to test It. Have you lea binary?" “Yes. tether." said I. with some When a woman 5 overboard she 501 times drowns wl there is a lift buoyj , within a {cw stroke: herâ€"all because 1 doesn’t happen to 1 it. Sick people of risk in the same w elp is within ten but thgy do: knqw just wh it is. They ‘ ' come discount; ' and disgust " /' with takin m / icing: an 3' up in despair. Mrs May J. Stewart. /A 13-...“ fin..- n1-.. In ::\‘i';ll.â€"-i'}bur dad can touch you some- lhin: in history you" he cried. looking in triumph at qtanothor. “Hue you nu) Enuuowlfikin wnncOII- 0 1w?“ A “’HlTl-I Ed thei: he Vault} COB Now that I was in my seventeenth rest. and hsd already some need tor a razor I had begun to weary of the nar- row lite or the village. and to long to see something or the great world be and. The craving wss all the stronger 1 dujst not speak openly about It. 201‘ tie least hint or it brought the tests into my mother’s eyesu But now there was the less lesson thst I should say st home, since :1; flther was at he:- side, snd so my nd wss sll filled by this respect or my uncle's visit. and «the cednzhenightsetmyteet moving at last _upo_n the rosd ot lite. ,,v_ _--vâ€" â€"'-_~ A: foimy _ ' it was towards my tithe!"- mote-won. my thong ha and my hope- turned. for tron my child- “I think it is the letter of n top,” said my_§ather, bluntly. _ , “My Dear Sister Mary. “In answer to your letter. I can assure {:u tint you must not conceive rm- to « wanting in those finer fu-lings which nre the chief Ada-amen: ot humanity. It is true that for some years. absorbed as .1 have been in aluirs or the highest tmmrtance, I have seldom taken a pen m my hand, for which I can assure you that I have been reproacbed by many des plus charnmntea or your ch ' 39x. _ At the urgent moment I lie shod (having ntuyed late in order to ‘ a a nuoliment to the Marchioness or vex- nt lu-r hall last ni ght), end this is wri: to un dictation by Ambrose, my clever rascal ot a. vale-L I am interested to hear or my au caphew Rodney (Mon dieu, quoi nom! $331 shaubeonmy way to visit 'ae Prince at Brighton next eelk. shall break my journey at Friar-‘0 Oak tor the sake at seeing both you end him. Make my compliment! to your husband. “I an ever. my dear sister Mary. your brother. “CHARLES TREGELLIS." “Whnt do you think of rhst'x‘" cried my mother in triumph when she had flushed. “You. u'e too find on him. Anson. You Will think bettcr at him when you know him. But he says that he will be here next week. and this is Thursday. and the best curtains unhung, and no lavender in the sheen!" Aw” the hustled, halt disujactefl. while my tuber at moody. with his chm upon hi: hands. and I remained lost in wonder at the thought or an: gmd new nelafive from London. and or all tint his coming might mean to us. “Thank. God that you never had to :toizp to it. Mary. I want none or his 9 "But we must think of Rodney." “finding has enough for his sea-chest and kit. He needs no more." "But (‘hzn'lc-s has great powor and in~ fluenw in Iwndon. He could make Rodney known to nll the great people. Surely you would not stand in the may or his advancement." ""1121? hearâ€" what he says. then." said my father; and this was the letter which she read to him: “14 Jermyn street. St. James‘. ”April 15th, 1818. KlTl‘Vll‘u ”I; gnu"... _..- from us when the weatlger \3.. we have no need at bun now that the sun is shining." “Nay. you misjudge him. Anson," said my mother, warmly. “Theme is no one with a better heart than Charles; but his own life moves so smoothly that he cannot understand that others may have trouble. During all those years I have kntwn that I had but to say tho Word to rmoive as much as I wished from him autumn-«km Duran“. Inn- to and mph! were not. on." he concluded. “you need figureo to the a reckoning. and you need nothing ehe one what your mother wit will teach you. There never run one of our breed who did not take to salt noer likenyounsgnn. I Nelson has promised me a vacativz. Lor you. end he'll be a good n his word.” ullllllflb mu“ _- ._.._ __ uf his own. he might be disposed t‘ vancc him.” “We can do very well without 1 growled my father. "He shout-ed from us when the: wga_tl_zer was foul Â¥. 4L- could with for. Though my parents had been mrfigd no long. they bud mall; 8 3 E §. E. ’3 it they were two newly-wedded lovers. 1 have learned since that sailors can be coarse and tool. but never did I know - -- - 7 -nn.-...|. h. had (I the, WV]? va .l‘vvn‘v new--- , l have learned since that sailors can be coarse and foul. but never did I know it from my father: for. although he had seen as much rough work as the wildes could wish for. he wee always the same patient, good-humored man. with a smile and a jolly word for all the vil- lage. He could suit himself to his com- pany. too. for on the one hand he couid tnkehiewinewith thevicerorwith Sir James Ovington. the squire or the par» in]: :while on the other he would sit by the hour humble friends down in the filthy. with Champion Harrison. Boy Jim end the rest or them. telling them such stories of Nelson and his men that I have seen the Champion knot his greet hand together. while Jim'- eyee have emouldened like the forte ember. .- he listened. My tether had been placed on half- there of the old we: 9‘1. like on many 0 omeere. end no. for nearly two year- he was able to remein with us. During all this time. I can only once remember that there was the slightest dingree- meut between him and my mother. It chanced that I was the cause or it. and en greet events sprang out of it. I must tell you how it cane about. It was In- deed. the firet of e eeriea of events which affected not only my fortunes. but those of very much more important peo- ple. The spring of 1803 was an early one. end the middle of April saw the leaves thick upon the chestnut trees. One evening: we were all seated together owr e dish of ten when we heard the scrunch of steps outside our door. and there was the postman with n letter in his hand. “I think it in for me," said my mother. and sure enough it was addressed in the most beautiful writing to Mrs. Mary Stone, of Friar'e Oak. and there was a red ace! the size of a haltâ€"crown upon the outside of it with a flying dragon in the middle. “Whom think you that it is from, An- n. L . “I had hoped that it was from Lord Nelson." answered my father. “It is time the boy had his commission. But if it he (or you. then it cannot be tron: one of much immrmnce." . “Can it not!" she cried. pretending to be ofiended. “You will ask my pardon for that sir, for it is from no less e person than Sir Charles 'l‘regellis, my own brother.” My mother seemed to speak with _e hushed voice when she munUIvM-«i ilus r .1 km, and aways l-) L _.. .. 1mm .- 1 mm reme miner. so “I think it is for me. md cube enough it “a" most betqflul _W£{fi“‘ CHAPTER V. him HT ‘como in, Mr. l-‘1d< his own taste. and a pint seems a sinful v 11' you like it so. yt- A smile flickered ot the servant, Mn themselves insmmly mg; or nepqctrpl ( *‘V‘Iou ue hborin: I sir. at you will 1“ Il- name il Ambms Prince's, and the place “’1‘. ing-meu live. 1 could “1;.“ known in London." “How?" “Never mind how. Rod it. and I will do it. {00. . my uncleâ€"‘wait, and it val right for you.’ That is wh: says, and my aunt the same. I wait? “1114: am I to \vai Roddy. I’ll stay no longer heart out in this little “ll: leave my apron behind me my fortune in London, and v back to Friar-'3 Oak, it v.21! “fie as.that gentleman ya." “e pomted as he spoke. .x;. a h h crimson curricle Conn; Lon on road, with two buy nessed tandem fashion bL-l'u tom: and fittings were or :1 color, and the gentleman ht: coat to match. with a. son: livery behind. They flu'shz-ll rolling cloud or dust. and 1 811111989 0! the pale, hands the master. and or the day; feature- ot the man. I 51 have given them author 1 lt not chanced that when came into view then- was again. standing at the do“; and the groom: busy Ink: horses. of iao'ée mi'thtul c Tonjoun a totâ€"Ch "Have him in g I my father, pfargh". can't “ling." I cried, “I 1'01 uncle!‘ and taking to my home at the to of m." door was sun ' the want. He carried a cush [3319. may and fluffy 1; "You will excuse mu. .W In. in the sunvest mm voices. “but am 1 right that this is the house c Stone? In that case you do me the favor to hand this note which her bmtln Tregellis. has just com I was quite abashod 1‘ fioyrery way or talking-Wm which I had ever hr: 3 ed face, and shar‘ eyes, Which took in mo :11 nqd my mother'- startled wmdow all in the instant. were together, the two of fitting-room, and my mm! note to us. -“My dear Mary,” it r ped u: the inn. bccmm ravage b ' the dust or 3: A laven tar-water bath to 1 condition in-whivh my compliments to a l sgnd you Fidelio as a h hpn a. hut pint O wn 81: drops ot_p_upe_ and houses are. agd how 111 whercrthe lxxlgg's ‘ kw w I‘Mve nevei- “MIN a. or usted the salt upone;?l'i;ot 35, out sealing the_ blood or fivc 8 will» a th ' mne- cud nvateers. Aggun “ship I have the roar of me mum in; can u: out over the “mom magma us how the, 8'31 m n engag ~d ’ or lulled out of Pomsxhou'ffie fighting WWW “2 gram“ m o e ‘ ‘- '. thi- nn' minence or $2 uni-15352- {FM wag-m to yard- -nrm In. sight of st. Held: 5 li thisimxninence or the d. warmed our hearts to our My! all. round the w m we Vdson, and Cu wood. and Johnnie Jarvis] “than, not as being minis with titlt‘s and good friends whom We 1.» cred above all others. \V there through the h-nnh of Britain who did not 1.; with them pnder thered redu go into the navy, as y do. you go as an oflice who do the ordering. as one who was born to “An officer gets his 0 above him." - den-d whether in the \ was a finer. handsomer “The Army or the S for you, Jim,” said I. "'1 but is very well," 11 go into the navy, as y do. you go as an ofiice But now that peace had come, a ‘the fleet: whxch had swept me channel m the Heaven-anew were lying - M in our harbors, there was loss to am one's _Ieawards. It Was Load now 0: w xch. I thought by day a: hooded b mght; um huge city . home of e vyxse and the great, '1:on vhich came this constant stream of ex:- “ah and those crowds of dug-Q peo- ple w 0 were for ever flashing M on: window-pane. It was this one Side of life which first presentvd its“, to . and to, as g boy_ I usvd to Picture {ha city in n mantle sugbln “m, ‘ hncé huddle Of coaches, which were for h“.- meaning ofi dowp the country road; But, then, Chgmmon ngrison told me how the hung-men ln'c-d them, an my “the: ow the heads 0! the a", lived there. gnd my moan-r how M hmthex- ad has grand {Honda were um until at Int 1 w? consumed with in: fiance to seq t1: marvellous hear. of gm Thxs coupng of my undo then. was the tux-1km? 0‘ light throw the darkness, though hardly dared to hope that he wquld tqke me With m into those high cxrck-s m which he find. My mother. hgwexjer. had such Q02. fidence either :11 bus good .Mtureyr :1 her own powers or pemuxaqqn, that she already begun to make tux-me tin-pm tight for my departure. A But it the nan-ownqss of the v5, lite chated my easy Spirit, it was a ture to the keen and ardent mim 30: Jim. It was but a {m days; the coming of my uncle‘s loner 1hr walked over the Dawns mgcmer, I‘Vilifiia’peep or the bit hen-t. ““Lhnt 15 more for I ho cued. "l torge a_s md th‘c o it." that you are rn with u 5Jarvis, and the; great 8m gm“ l mR'e lavfdlesl'nd EI‘S. at boy kngth and [)ng I not long“is to be m fee had Come, ““2: vent the channel vex flashing M12: as this one side“ psentod itself on Harrison mm .. 01h ‘ Au: m Igi an: “a g: Breton: the y ”(I I had hm .. o to be my y one place Itlg 70d then, m -“ of the navy JLhL‘!‘ how 11': nds were there, umed With im- cUous hem (t 0‘ k:Iiimundn, t 1' t m Lafllfij' dam] 1.. which he lived, Id such con. d gammy m mam. that an. umve prepam. V t IS [1c 01h: L81“ PW“ mime “no! I "an (in Sufl’et A SUFH HEN fict fur ills to w lufl'eri n 1 . shuttere nnd thal creates experim tncmail PillI mmmg distreui of Lane: men: in Atte DOIVOW yearn. aha um 13y to She in Ihe re nos: 1 where II No: S utely dilmn of be from ate-d Dari ll At (ll lNDS mom, ‘ middl work won: 1! P0: the ciom a. nu friem DI"