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facesxt m: but. )[cu thought. that. if you had made a {col «1»! on: man you oonid make a fool of another. Baa, you see, I’m noba greenhom of twenty, and your beauty makes no more impression on me than if they View all dead. I’m not to be led by “ You’re a. clever woman,” I said 31012:], as I bent over bar. “ Ki: told me all aboab you, and I didn’t stand in need of this prof. But you’re not~ clever enough to de- ceive me as you deceived him with your acting. I’m not. such a. soft. muff as he was. Oh, you're not asleep ! You’d ham: bolted the trap before lying down if your motive for it was to get a done. Bus 1‘: wasn’t. You knew I should come up, and you let”. the trap open that I might come in and no you with your head in a. protty pose, and your hair artfully arranged to show your face 311: its bat: Yog thought. that if yogi. She lay with her face to the wall, her head bent back, her cheek pillcwed upon a tumbled mass of dark, soft hair that Lhrcw up in relief the delicate Ime of her white throat and chin, her parted lips, and white teeth’. Her cheek we: flushed, her bosom rose and fell to :2. rcguiar respiration, and and her eyes we dosed. Her tranquility was a fresh aggravation when I found I haei nothing to fear from in. - , .. ”v, â€"-â€"â€" -.-- -â€"J “5““ was closed. Hebe lay upon the bed ; she did not move as I put. back the trap noisily. The fear that. she was dead dismayed me, and I drew near the bedside with a. fore- boding inexplicable tQ me then. Why with- out a._spark of tender feeling did I dread losing her '2 The only explanation I can find is that in losing her 1 must lose the sweets of a. revenge the: lzad formed my only hope for six years. I went again up into her room. She had not troubled herself to secure the bolt. It was likes stove, for the sun had been shin- ing down upon the slates, and the sky-light 71'! “A- ,J---J I had not heard or seen a sign of Hebe all the morning. \Vhen I knocked off at midday to fry myself a rasher of bacon, I called her without getting any response Her prolonged obstinacy exasperated me ; her endurance perplexed me. I had never heard of a. convict holding out longer than forty hours against the temptation to eat, and I was too dull to perceive that a refined woman has infinitely greater fortitude in supporting physical suflering than a. brutalis- ed man. By about iiu‘ec o’clock there was iothing more to be done. Evetvthing was in its place as neat and clean as- hands coull make it. â€" v ‘7 as tuneless as a crow’s, I had recourse to whistling. Even this, however, was a. fail- ure, and degenerated into the hissing noise with which grooms rub down horses. I expected fully she would come down in a few minutes ; but after waiting an hour, meditating what I might say to humiliate her upon her defeat, I grew weary of inaction. “ She will beat me at this game,” said I ; “she’s used to doing nothing; I’m not.” So I looked about for occupation. Accustomed to the order and neatness of a prison, the state of the room displeased me. “ Rule Twenty-three,” said I to myself : “ ‘ prisoners shall keep their cells, utensils, clothing. and bedding clean and neatly arranged, and shall sweep the yards, pas- sages, and other parts of the prison as may be dizected, unless provision for tho per- formance of these duties is otherwise made.’ As provision don’t look like being executed to-day, I must do it myself.” Pleased with the notion of doing some- thing, I set to work with a. will: sweeping, brushing, polishing, and setting everything in order with something of the satisfaction I had found in the old “good-conduct” days when‘I made my cell a model for the ward- ers to show to visitors inspecting the prison. Nevertheless it irritated me to remember that I had resolved to force my wife to per- form the ofices I was now doing myself. I consoled myself for this disappointment by reflecting that she could not hold out much longer, and that my triumph would be all the greater when she did yield to my direc- tions. To show her that I was not in the least alarmed by her voluntary starving I made an efi'ort to sing, but breaking down in that by reason of my disused voice being Ipicked up the nail I had forced out, and, looking at it with a. laugh, went downstairs. In the bag of tools there was an old bolt. I took it up with the neces- sary tools and'a few screws and fastened it on the upper side of the trap where the other had been. “There,” said I. when the job was finished; “now you can lock yourself in if you like.” “ Leave meâ€"that is the only favor I have to ask of you,” she answered. “ That’s easily granted. I shan’t have much trouble with you if that’s all you unn n b " wan t. “ Do you w'ant me to bring youzr'rfood up to you ‘3” I asked savagely. “ T acqvn an o1.“- ;. «L- -..1..:__-_-_ r L___- When I had finished my breakfast I call- ed to her. She made no response. I had heard no movement overhead and felt un- easy. Going up the steps I put my shoulders against the trap and opened it easzly enough. She had thought to secure it by wedging an old nail in the opening. My wife was seat- ed at the other end of her room in an atti- tude of dejection. She rose hastily ancl stood in an attitude that was almost defiant as I thrust my head above the floor. might have to light it again for; her; Edaâ€"fig;- pose. But I might have saved myself that trouble. She did not. come down. Then I lit thé'fire, made a cup of coffee, and cooked a. rasher of bacon for myself. Aftgr that I raked out the fire that Hebe “ You can-come down,” I called, when I had set up the steps and unbolted the trap the next morning. After bolting the trap and taking away the steps, I went up to the loft and fell asleep in the hay, fairly well contented with_ the day’s events. “ She is Sieparing another Vmortification for herself,” thought I. “ It will all help to 13393.1: ‘hgzi spirit.” ' CHAPTER XXM. MY WIFE HARD TO BEAT. My wife had not touched the bread I laid an the table. She had eaten nothing now for nearly four-and-twenty hours. That did not disquiet me. I had known prison- ers who tried to starve themselves in order to get on the sick list, but their resolution invariably gave way before the panas of hunger had injured their health, and rea- soned that a woman could not succeed where a clogged convict failed. Published by special arrangement trom advance sheets 01' Chambers' Journal. BEYOND RECALL. My thoughts :an continually on the worn- an :1. pstairs. Her dnrk figure standing out ngnin at the light as 1 had seen her last haunted me. What was she doing up there in the dark? W'hat visions did she see in the darkness? What voices came to her from the silence? Was she trembling with fear of the husband who should call her to accountâ€"weepingfor the children she should never take into her arms again? In some form lhc must be suffering. For the first time that reflection failed to give me de- light. large the stable to shelter both animals when the rough went-her set in. So when I had finished my supper, cleared away the things, and lit the lamp, I turned back the table cover to make a drawing of the alter- ation to be made. That was an affair of five minutes, but; long after it was done I still hung over the table, idly tracing the outline of a stain on the White wood. CHAPTER XXXL’. I BETRAY MYSELF. To house the cow I had to turn the pony loose in the walled enciosure intended for a. garden. This reminded me that I must: en- The light was beyond her ; she stood out in silhouette, with the glass in her hand, motionless and silent. It seemed to me she had just discovered that what she had drunk so eugeriy was not water, and that she was doubtful whether I had not substituted paisun. I was content to leave her in that terrible uncertainty for the night. _ She Eteppéd forward eagerly as I turned away. VV'xcn I looked back from the steps she was taking the half-emptied glass from he£_lip_sf _ “There’ s something to drink,” said I putging the pitcher on t.‘ 1e table. The sun was setting when I reached che cottage after the tedious return journey. I milked the cow, and filling the pitcher, carried it up to my wife’s room. She was seated beside the bed, but her head rested on the pillow. She rose as I came up. I chose one which, of course, happened to be the vezy “ flower of the fleck,” and the most hard to part with ; but eventually, a. price being named, I counted out the money, and going off with my purchase, left the farmer better pleased‘ than I found him. “ There they are, and as its getting on towards milking time you can see for your- self that, ‘ choose as you may, you can't go astray,’ as the saying is.” He turned down towards the meadow, with another shake of the head, and I fol- lowed The cattle came towards him when he called. “ Hold hard. If it’s to oblige some of the gentry at Newton as I hear are in a. bad way,” he said (I nodded acquiescence) “why I daresay I could part with one, but they are that good it grieves me sore to let ere a. one go, it; dc.” _ “I’ma. gentleman’s servant,” said I, an assertion which my shaven face might, I thought, bear out. “The young missus is down here for her lungs, and the doctor’s ordered her to have pure milk. The gover- nor seems to think she’s going; to be cured the moment she gets it. That’s why he’s sent me off with orders to be back again in a couple of hours. If you can’t let me have one I won’t waste your time or my own, master.” I gave my pony a. nudge with my heel. “What are.y5u ? You ain’t a farmer, I knoy, and you don’t look like a butcher. ” “There; are cows in the meadow over there ; whom do they belon g to ‘2” “Me. 3’ “Well, can’t you }et me have one ; I don’t miofiuvivhat I pay ‘2” W I saddled the pony as if my life depended on expedition, and rode over the moor to a small farm on the outskirts of Newton. A man stood in the rick-yard. He came slowly towards me when I‘heiled him. “Have you a. cow to sell?” I asked. He shook his head slowly. That did not discourage me. A careful dealer is never in a. hurry to sell. ems mscoveny gave me. “ We shall see who wins,” I repeated, with savnge exultation. I took the pitcher away with me, dropping the trap with a bang that shook the floor, and bolting it underneath. As I turned away from her side in savage impatience, I caught sight of an empty glass upon the table; beside it stood the water pitcher; that was nearly empty. She had not been able to overcome the cravings of thirst. I saw at mice the power this discoveny gave me. l The foreboding that I must lose in a. struggle with her indomitable spirit en- raged me. Her unmoved face seemed to mock me with its placid calm. I doubted the advantage to myselt of the passive policy we both adopted. Hers was moral strength; mine purely physical. I was half minded to shake her out of her pre- tended sleep, and force her to go down be- low. But that in itself was a. tacit admis- sion of defeat in one direction that I could not reconcile myself to. And, after all, if her will were more inflexible than mine, how could I force her further than thnt? She might compel me to restore her to her friends, or seek medical help, which would result in the same thing, by persisting in; starving herself into a. dangerous condition, and that within a. few days. “ You 'have made up your mind to get away from me where Kit may find you,” said I, speaking still louder. “ I’ve made up my mind you shall stay here till you find him. We shall see who wins.” Her eyes were still closed, her features un- moved. I had made noise enough to awake any ordinary sleeper ; her immobility changed suspicion to conviction. She was shamming. With that I pushed up the skylight and secured it, to let a. current of air pass “mash.-- “ You’ll know how to shut it at night when you feel chilly and the trap’s bolted,” I 333d, going back 139 lghe bedsidgr the nose. A fine flat Kit must have been not to see through you. Perhaps he’d be- lieve in you nowâ€"think it was innocent sim- plicity that made you prefer to lie all day in an oven like this when you were free to get fresh air. 1 know your motive. You’re trying to make yourself ill. You expeou to trighten me into fetching a. doctor, through whom you could communicate with that old rascal the major and get a. release. But I'm not to be frightened. You’re not ill, and I’ll take care you shan’t make yourself ill 3 g” "‘ Was the cow in the" garden ihen you came through?” “ Yes. You got that for me.” I granted, and hammered afresh; “ It was good of you to think of that,” she said when I stopped. “I could not eat; I must. have died. It was good of you,” she repeated, as if to convince herself that I was not altogether a villain. ' I did not understand her, and bein no nearer a. conclusion after nailing a p ank top and bottom, I changed the subject. “ ‘Ivafl ‘45:: has.) :n +Ln "R‘AAO‘ n-Ln... “A.- There was a. contemptuous smile on her face as she met my eyes and shook her head. “ You’re like that fellow who went to sleep ever so many years and couldn’t un- derstand the change that had taken place when he woke,” said I. “ But you’ll have to understand it. You won’t find Kit pretty nor pleasant, nor pliable neither ; make up your mind to that. He ain’t what he was when I first knew him.” “ N o= no,” she said, mournfully. Then in an instant, plucking up spirit, she addedâ€"- “ But happily he is not what he was when yog {ast knew pim.” “ Well, that is a silly question I Do you think there’d be a. trace of goodness left in you after being treated all that time like a. beast.” “ I’m only a woman ; he is a. man ! ” “ Don’t see much choice betvnxt the two. Any way, all the goodness and manhood too was knocked out of Kit.” “ You knew him six years ; did he alter much in that time ‘3 ” “ Why, he was always thinking of it; ; always trying some game to escape, being caught, and pub in punishment. for it. Most; all the old hands get. some mad notion ; that was his.” “ When did you last see my husband ?” she asked. “ I was drafted to Portland May twelve- month, and I saw Kit; the day before I went.” “When did you first come to know him?” “ In ’32, when I was put; in the carpen- ters’ workshop.” “ When you last saw him was he think- ing of escape ?” “ So I was, but I learnt carpentry at Dartmoor. Preferred going into a. work- shop to doing the work of a horse in the quarries : that’s where I met Kit.” “ You can’t carve wood.” “With a. saw, Ican,” said I, after nailing the plank which gave me time to think of the evasion. “ But not as my husband did. I shook my head as I dragged out a. fresh plank and set it up. There was another in- terval of silence. \Vhen I turned to select more nails I saidâ€" - “Is that all you’ve got to say ‘3” She raised her head quickly, as If to change the current of her thoughts. I drove in three nails, with a. pretence of whistling. _ She did not acce t this invitation at once. I nailed the peak top and bottom without gettinga word. Suddenly as 1 stuck some nails I had selected for the next plank in my mouth, a. suspicion seemed to strike her. “ I thought you were a. watchmaker,” she said. “Well, what is it; '3” I asked, pickmg up a. board and putting it in its place. “I will wait; till you can give me your attention.” “I can listen to you without wasting time. You can talk till I begin hammer- ing and go on again when 1 stop. If I don’t. stop, you may take if, as a. sign that I dog’t want to hear any more.” “ What shall I do with it?” I asked my- self, going back to the table. I felt a. cer- tain afl'ection for the work in itself ; it was good. I no longer thought of defacing it; that was a. brutslity against which the awakened sensibility of an artist revolted. It was a. bit of wood carvingâ€"nothing more. There was no sentiment in it as it was ; there might be if I disfigured it. I swept 1 the chips of and at them in the stove; 3 then I turned hate the cover as I had found bit. â€" “Yéfi c'én coxiie hi. You are only stop- pigg out the light;_there.” SEe came it; after a moment’s conflict with her pride, and stood resting her hand on the corn bin. “Oh, you ’ve come down at; last, ’ said I, adding after I had driven home a. nail, “Goingg to try another game tr -c_iay_?” “I {hub 'to speak ~1'90 you,” éhe said, quie_t_ly, ignoring my anger. On examining the stable in the morning, I found that I could make room for the cow by removing the partition at the end and taking in a. piece of the shed beyond. The job was three parts done, and I was nailing up the ems-bets in their new position, when the light from the door being blocked out, I turned and saw Hebe standing there. When I got to that stage when an artist doubts whether he is doing good work cr bad, I left off. My hand was wet; and trembling. It was so long since I had used it to such work, and I had sat over the thing too long. Sick and giddy I went to the open door for air. But as I worked on, this malignant feel- led absorbe ing gave place to one of aching sorrow as I her again. recalled to mind the old days when I first “ Have ; attempted to curve a. likeness of the belov- I asked. ed face ; how I dreamed night after night “ I have of the work I had laid eside with regret answered, when the light failed; with what feverish “ \Vhat eagerness I returned to it when the slow sun “ My hc rose ; with what reverent love I strove to The rep give the touch that should express the finger on t inefable sweetness and purity I found in for an exp] her features ! changed. Presently I found a resemblance to her face in the outline of the stain I had been drawing. The pencil mark was indistinct upon the dark polish. Beside me lay the pen-knife with which I had sharpened the pencil. I took it up, and almost as idly as I had begun I continued the sketch. It was apple wood varnished to look like maho- gany. The lines cut with the knife showed up clearly, and the likeness became more evident. Gradually my interest grew in the work, developing at length into an artistic ardor that impelled me further and further. I cut deep into the wood, bringing the out- line into relief ; got light and shadow into 3 the face, and gave softness to the hair by a trick that I once thought was my own. I tried to reproduce the profile as I had seen it in the afternoon ; the eyes closed, thel lips parted, the head thrown back, giving ‘ an unbroken line from the chin to the 3 spring of the throat. I wished it to be faithful to her beauty that in the end I might have the savage gratification of burning it out with a hot iron. “If I rub paraffin into the wood and set light to it," thought I, “I shall see the beauty eaten away as if vitriol had been thrown into her living lace.” They were discussing the labor question. that for me.” “ I believe in shorter hours,” said Mr: mmered afresh; Linger. 'you to think of the ,” "So do I,” replied Miss Keedick, earn- stopped. “ I could not estly. “ I think an hour and a. half is died. It was good of plenty long enough for an evening call.” as if to convince herself I 1 And the young man had been there three Infih‘nu n .-:]l..:. hours. . Ever Rejeicing. There’s never a. rose in all the world But makes some green spray sweeter; There’s never a wind in all the sky Bnt makes some bird wing fleeter ; There’s never a. star but brings to heaven Some silver radiance tender, And never a. rosy cloud but helps To crown the sunset splendor ; No robin butmay swell some heart, His dawnlight ghdness voicing. God gives us all some small, sweet way To set the world rejoicing. â€"“ I wonder if sickness could make you generous.” she said, bending her brows. “ I wonder,” she added, with growing dis- dain and spirit), “ I wonder if anything on earth could make you like my husband.” “ Mar :4: Ln,“ A”. :--1 ._-._ “a . - . .. - â€" â€"â€"_ “J Am kuu. “ Not if he’ s the fool you take him for,” I answered. A smil'e crept over her face, making it young again. “ And maybe he’s gone soft, that’s true,” I continued. “ P’raps he fell sick.” ‘ The smile passed in an instant from her lips. 1 could have undeceived her onlhis point; but not without bebraymg myself. “ Well it looks as if you were right in one thing, anyway,” said I ; “ Kit’soub.” “No Baud but his could have done that,’ she continued, her voice trembling with excitement. “ And I have reason to think of him as he wasâ€"a man, generous and tender, since that shows that he still thinks of me as I was to him in those days.” , ,,1'II ‘ An artist often fails to see the fault that is obvious to the first critic ; and now Isaw what it was in my work that had displeas- ed me when I glanced as it before sitting down to breakfast. Unconsciously I had reproduced in the character of the face the work I had done in my workshop in the old days : guided, may be, by the subtle in- fluence of the memories that recurred to me in doing it‘._ > ' The Eover was thrown back revealing the work I had done over night. and forgotten in the occupauon of the last three hours. “ It is my face,” she said, as I went: round and looked at, it, with feigned curios- ity. “ Not as you see it now, but; as he saw it years and years ago. “ You expected to see your destiny re- vealed as a picture of merit rewarded, eh?” I 1 muttered, driving in the nail with a sin- l is blow. I turned to look at her. Her . ngers still trembled before her eyes. I “ It didn’t strike you that he might choose to forget you and think of a. more 'pleasant subject.” "Oh, he could not forget me. No man .could forgetâ€"” she paused. “ Such injuries as he owes to you,” I sug- gestod. “ You have proved that he did not forget me. Oh, I knew what must have been in his mind when he tried again and again to 'escape. I could not hope that he had for- ;given me, that he could pity me, that his flove could outlive all, and I wronged him in I that. " ‘ “ I doubt it.” I “ I am sure 1” she said, firmly, dropping I her hand and raising her head proudly. ‘ l ait till you see him. ” ‘ “ I will wait cheerfully.” “ Ah, you may have to wait long enough ; lfor, according to your own showing, there’s no proof that he’s out of risen yet.” “ But there is proof. know he has es. caped ; that IS what I came to tell you.” I looked at her in perplexity. “ Come with me and I will show you what I have tound," she said, going towards the door. I threw down the hammer and followed her, not yet perceiving what had happen- ed. She crossed the enclosure and entered the house. “ There!” she exclaimed, triumphantly, : po_i_n_ting to the table. t“ “No, I looked for what you led me to expect. You told me of the horrible sub- jects he chose in prison. I expected to see myself being stungled by himâ€"anything,” she spoke with vehemence and broke off abrusbly, covering her face with her hands. ‘6 av---L-J 4.- ~_ ~ "I have been looking everywhere,” she answered, quietly. “ \Vhat for ‘3 ” “ My husband.” The reply startled me. I Va”, my finger on the nail. the hammer half raised, for an explanation. Her attitude was un- changed. “ I' wanted to make sure Whether he had been_h¢re or not,” she said. â€" “ Well, you haven’t misspent your time, anyhow.” Her chin was on her breast, and she seem- ed absorbed in meditation when I looked at “ I don’t intend to try. I believe you were right in your conclusions. though you put them in such a. form that I could not at first reconcile myself to accept them. But I have since thought a. great deal about my position and what course I ought to take, and now I see that there is no sacri- fice of self-respect in accepting even your guidance when it is reasonable.” “I promised Kit I’d look after you, didn't I? Besides I bought it with your own money.” Pulling out a. new pink, I lost her re- spouse. 1 “ How long have you been up.” “ A long while.” “ What have you been at?” “1 have been down to the stream for water. You are not afraid of my running away now.” “ I said I’d look after you, but I didn’t promise to watch you night, and day. You know pretty well what the consequences would be if you triep to cross the moor. You can try if you like, butâ€"” Have you had a. look round the place? ” (TO BE CONTINUED.) He Took the Hint. Bad Heard Him Once- Bilksr“ Come up and hear our xninistze‘1 to-da . ’ No bsâ€"“No, thanhq; I heard him 0300 and always regretted it.” ‘ y" “ Why, I guess you are mistaken. " ‘ “ Not a bit of it; he‘is the milliliter I“ married us.” _ -.v “0.46, "a“ down and fiited for what he wanted "u: course, mat/s it,” he exclaimed. “I knew there was a skin or something same- where about the_ thing, ”_and he calmed AA___ __ J , _ __._.v\' u The clerk’s sace showed a. gieium of intelli- gaps? an_(_i_th_en_bx_'oke Into a. smile. __- _'v w an: IV “Possibly it is black oxide of ma: you want?” he said quietly. The customer almost threw hi around the clerk’s neck. “Of course, that’s it.” he exclain “No, not a. one, ” and the clerk laughed. The customer grew red in the face. “By jove,” he said, “if it isn’t a skin, what in thunder is it. ‘2" “Possibly it is a hide 2*" suggested the clerk kindly. “That’s it ! That‘s it I” exclaimed the man. “Have you got any black hides of 85:4} thing or anything?” “Not that Iam aware of,” and the cus- tomer became thoughtful again. “Hide, hide, hide,” be repeated; “Got any. rawhide of anything ‘2” The clerk shook his head sadly as the man tramped up and down the store. “Got an black cowhide of anything 2” he asked a ter a. minute’s thought. "1].. -1-_'I_I_ 1', , I The man was in a. brown study when he went into the drug store. “ What can we do for you ‘3” inquired the ‘ clerk. 7 “ I want black something of something. ” he said "Have you got any ? ” “ Probably we have, ” replied the clerk, “ but you’ll have to be more definite to get it.” The customer thought for a. moment. G‘l‘ oot any black sheepskin of something ‘2" he asked. “N 0, we don’t keep sheep skins. W’e have Chamois skins, though.” “That isn’t it, I know,”sa.id the castomer. “Got any other kind of skins?” a NO 1’ “Skins, skins, skins,” repeated the man, struggling with his slippery memory. “Cslfâ€" skin seams to be something like it. Got any black calf skins of anything?” “NA v‘n‘n Ann =1...) 4.1-- AI, 1 1 . . ’ “ My man,” he said, “ you go back there [,and use your owu judgment the rest of the “trip. I know how to manipulate a railroad, but I guess you know more than I do about runmn an engine.” Then he was assisted to his erth. _Goizld glared at tile.man'for a moment; ans? .1138 MW. chi-939d- “ You said you wanted me to pull her open,” fep.lied_La.uer_, quietly: “ Whmt, in the name of all that is good and holy, do you mean. 9” he demanded. “ Do _you want to kill us all 1” The engineer was right. At a. particular- ly bad place the bellâ€"cord was jerked and the train brought to asundstfll. Jay Gould was picked from under ascet, where he had been thrown, and angrily faced the engineer, who had come back to the car. Onée he lookeci back at the swaying train and said :_“ He won? .stand‘it long.’_’ “ I’d have gone uf with pfedéiz-ré betoreJ I would have given that little cuss the chance tofay I_wz§s a: sgqealgr.” Lnuer satattho throttle, watching the rails as they gleaned like silver threads. He was as pale v.5 those in the train behind. but, as he remarked in telling, the story the other day : 1‘ 1" Laura m--;. .-_ ._:LL _.'l-._,,,,e 1 1- 'In a. few moments the little special was speeding through the night at the rate of forty-five miles An hour. It was a ride to be remembered. The cars necked from side to side, creaking in every joint, and now and then lifting as if nboutto leave the track. Everybody clung to some support, those who knew the condition of the roadbed expecting to be hurled into eternity every minute. Laue: oveEhen-d the remlnrk and flushed up. “ All right," he said: “ we’ll open her an 5’ up. Lam-er Adomuu‘ed' andq trlizov §;{1:0ad mag- nu.be concluded thatâ€"he wan afraid. “ He’s a. coward,” he finally said: “put another may in charge.” “ Get; along ! Push he:- ! Let’s see What the machir‘le can d9,” uggegl Gould. ' “ Send the engineer to me,” said Gould. “ I’ll talk to him.” Ab the next stopping place Lauer was summoned and given tounderstand that he was not unble of driving a. car horse, much leis running an engine. 7 “ (Inf, nlnnn' Dunk kn- l 1' AL), , , Q The gentleman spoken to was aware that the night ride had been specially arranged in order that the condition of the roadbed could be concealed from Gould, but thus forced he had nothin to do but to order an increase of speed. he order was given, but the train moved along at the same speed. "If this were a filial train it couldn’t possibly travel in a. more decorous manner. Stelm up and let us go along.” mL , , i . v â€"â€"v ‘vâ€"v-\lw («l-1U. Between Meuhell and Gelveston the schedule {tilled foTQZS miles to be made between dirk and daylight. Jay Gould did not retire early, end on that night seemed perticularly wide awake. He sat reading a newspaper by a. dim light, and every once in a while glanced out of the win- dow impatiently. It was evident that the greet man was becoming angry. Finally the storm burst. Turning to one of the officials accompanying him, he remarked tesfily : A special train was ma. ~ 11 and ‘t in charge ofgake Lauer, onedg‘tge pmgLei-s in Mexican engineering. “ Rush him ” was the order, and Mr. Lauer did some hat-:1 thinking. He knew that the roadbed was in a terrible condition, and that to run over twenty miies was tak- ing despenbe chances. Lauer had lots of nerve, but he felt the responsibility imposed on him by the ofliciels in piecing Gould in his heads. He concluded finally to use his own judgement, take no chances, and “it: closely to the schedule time. 011- Second Thouzht lie Didn't Want to Ride Fast on a Texas load. J ay Gould once made a trip to Mexico to inspect the International and Great North- ern Railway. It was in the autumn of 1878 and, as usual, the millionaire was in a. hurry. Meeting the gentleman who‘ had the sale of the road in hand, he said : “ I’m a. busy man, and I want to be bzck in New York next week. Ru‘sh me thtougbfl’ 7 Black Somothinz of Something. GOULD CHANGED flIS MIND. it,” he exclaimed manganese hg. ~In the family it is the easiest t the World to grow careless or indl ‘g'I-rions practices not permissable in - society, but. all the same, these hat: iormed, and the eggchen, as 3 mm! 39% - w u in such ways. Wong; that when they “We“!!! to go out. into the world t obliged to have a through course of in g to mien-n thehabits of early life The only excuse for this is 1711 purexns are themselves totally igm Miss B is neither to talent: lovely, but she meets one In heart. and her continued plea; has a. charm which draws her a. devoted circle of app: friZIE. She is her father's confidat mothefs1he recipienz of her Jack’s love-trouble and sister Nellie gles_ with _Frerit;h. But how can a girl bat gain the I] respect of others? This is an all-mi query, and it is bestranswered by M! illustration drawn from real li.e. J is beautiful. Her statuesque form at nificent face are always the sung} cold, distantaspect which even her 12‘ ed beauty does not, redeem from re ' Ah, girls! The snowiest skin wi day be sallow ; the flush of youth 1 appear: the bright eye grow dim, a 129? y limb be uncertain and feel)! this inward loveliness, this beauby o is born of Heaven. and knows no The tender ministries of Miss B wi into any true heart. sooner than M 1,3" ut '. Such a woman in any ., glimpse) of God‘s sunshine. Beat genius are the gifts of Providence, good heart. all can cultivate. There are few portions of ho training tint are more neglected ch fdueg‘ion of aflfirer}, in the hapits And the natural tribute men Wmnan’s attractive qualities is adn If a woman is incapable of apprecia homage of man, and treats man’s gift as though it were vanity, she .erions mistake. Eva-y womn has an inherent to be attractive, and if she has: should have. For what; would thi doubt and strife of our dai lv wax come, were it not that sweet worn: fuses into it her calming, cheerin cnces‘.’ _ At 9 o’ctock I waked up,fiand‘ compan y domains cried for some 1 myself. Manama came up no me. sleep. D dn t wake up any more that n I went to sleep me last time until morning. â€"[Ha.rper’s Young Peop!‘ At half past 5 I had the last m day. a new bottle having been prm don’t know the name of this mes doesen’t. make any (inference. for i‘ same as breakfssn, lunch, dinner per. 1 went to bed at. 6 o’ciock. Had supper at. tgree o’cbcki breakfast, lunch and dinner). Goa dropped the bottle, and cried I couldn’t have any more supper as i was broken. I have discovered td‘ break. Hooray ! Tried to tell an my discovery, and nurse said, “ sing.” I wasn’t a “ sing,” I’m 130% because there’s no such word, and; be “ poor,” so I cried. i From 4 until 5 I made a new 11 generally cry at half past 4 every 1 m-day I didn’t. I was asleep. ‘41,?! A Had lots of fun. Pulled nun then pulled mamma’s hair. It much fun when I tried to pull hair, for he slapped my hands. like that, so I cried. Then brothel and I cried harder, and then bn sent away. I cried harder the this. for I wanted to play with b: TY 1 sleep. At 120'clock wakaed and 11 (same as breakfast and lunch). Mamma played on the piano an me. \Vhen I tried to sing she and as I don’t like to be laughedn Nurse said I was a cry-baby, and the time at evexyching. but I do with her. Inever cry now at m because I tried it once and found eat and cry at the same time, '0 g I have all night to cry in if I wan I can’t eat then. Had lunch at 10 o‘clock (same fast). Went out riding afterwan carriage, and cried all the way hon nurse wouldn’: let me have a nice doggie to carry. He was a love}; and when I screamed he bark screamed real hard lots of times. grgat fun. My breakfast was served at 8 < don’t think the cook can be much I never had anything but milk for dinner or any other meal smee l 0: her. After breakfast I saw my bl playing with a jumping-jack. As I myself, I cried until nurse mud give it u . Then brother began 11 because was sorry for him I crie Waked up as usual at 3 o'c’z‘ morning, and cried until everylu the house was awakened. Then sleep again. Was aroused once more at 6 0‘ fly dancing on my face. I tried 1 and oniysuoceeded in slapping my: that I had to scream. I screamed I body decided to dress, and when readyffor breakfast. halian hour be! fast- was ready for them, I fell as ~ 1‘.-.. runes-A lUl At; the g1! is denied. We are better for the longing. Stronger for the pain; Souls at case are nature wrong Through the harchd soil com Seeds, in mm and ruin! Broken measures find compleu In the perfect whole : Life is but a day in Heelnen‘iâ€" Bachel- in a“ strength and met 3- Grows the striving wul. u “9 ul' like the héiél-x-z‘éjm gm ‘4 Every sgul has aspirations (stall unsatisfied, Memories th’mkc vibration Of the head. In qugci: pulsazio. I L AL- A'- Lite is full of broken measure) objects unanmincd: sorrows intertwined with plea Losses 0! our 00%21'95‘1. trczgcun Ere the heights be gm ‘~ The Charm of Plaasantne: so tired screaming that- ‘J a“ v Manners For Ghldren- Baby’s Diary fopfine HOUSEHOL‘. ”WIND Measures. of life. ‘ J» tie a