m -- 1. VAN SLYKE. Editor « Ml PrtlMw. MoHENBY, - - ILLINOIS. _T 'H*.'; i ; f* wJl ' f*4T * > - -v ^'-;-v, - • ' % « A FATHER TO HIS SO: n. traitor In the curap-- •- >& "y;1: A rlbel, strangely bold-- *|ijl lisping, inu^hing, toddling Ncft more than 4 yews Old. j . %o think that T, -who ruled alone 55rf • B > proudly in the past, * *®boul<l bo ejected from my tfaroM. v_ ; tv :j By my own son at last. ' Uo trots bis treason to and fro, ,i An only babiqs can-- , . *J>o doin.Vxo bo my mama's bean •>!> Whoa t'Ba a gweat big man I" ; ,,'lfou stingy boy I wbo'so always bid • ' "A share in mamma's heart, . •Would you begrudge your poor old d». , * The tiniest little part ? )/" ^ifrtd yet your confidence, my boy, ^ I fear is not misplac'd-- _ s jlShd, what is more, I note with joy .. _ Your excellence of taste. ^,'lBour mamma, I regret to see, j^Wlndtae* to take your part-- J^B if a dual mouarchv V 'Should rule her gentle heart! But when the years of youth have aped, 'Thf bearded man, I trow, Tjfill quito forget ho ever said He'd be his lnmma'i beau. • /.announce your treason, little son-- : Aieave mamma's heart to me; ^ t S*t>r thorn will come another one ^V: ,. * To claim your loyalty. j jkhd when that other comes to you, . . <God grant her ipve may shine Through all your life ns fair and |£M ' - As mamma's did through ruina, ' --Chicago News. YEARS AGO. • JWonderful CThanges in tlie Com mercial, Social, and Domes tic Life of the World. • It will astonish no one, to be told that Ithe telephone, without which business > tend professional people in large towns would hardly know how to get along, is tt thing of yesterday; that the telegraph, whose convenient use enters so largely • into every day's transactions, yielded its first message in 1S44: that the rail- ' Xvay system of the United Stiites, hav ing only about 1,000 miles of road in operation half a century ago, lias sub- utatially grown to its present enormous dimensions sinee the establishment of this jmper, or that there was no trans atlantic line of steamers till 1840, and tio ocean screw steamers till 1847: but many will be surprised to recall the number of lesser discoveries,inventions, and new contrivances that, within the tame period, have come to modify our frays of working and living. Fifty years ago there was not a reap ing or mowing machine to be heard in any field, ncr was there a seed-planter to be seen or any labor-saving apparatus for doing farm work except such as had existed for generations. There was the >ncient plow, and the shovel, hoe, •cythe, rake, cradle, sickle, and pitch fork, and they were al>out all. Nearly everything was done by had. The old Dutch plow was still to be seen, with Its mold-board of wood protected by their plates of iron and its point of •wrought iron. There was in common use no cultivator for the corn and no Iiorse-rake for the hay; not even a "bull- • *ake" to be drawn by hand. In 1835 the farmers shot squirrels 'with flint-lock fowling pieces, Spring field* muskets, or some of the innumera ble "Queen's arms" that were said to liave been picked up on the field of Bunker Hill. Percussion cap locks had not come into vogue, and flint locks were retained in both the inilidli and regular service for many years there after. .The first breecli-loading needle - gun was made in 183(5, and in the same year Samuel Colt patented his revolv ing pistol. The first important move for the. introduction of the rifle as a military weapon was made by France in 184'2, and Capt. Minie produced his •elongated projectile in place of the old "spherical bullet al>ont the year 1845. All vessels of war were of wood in 1835, and the combined navies "of the world could have been destroyed by a single- armed ship, such as the English Gov ernment sent into the harbor of Alex andria in 1882. In the way of heavy ordnance even the wild tribes of the ^Soudan are better supplied to-day than all the great powers of the earth, put r together, were at the time of which we speak. Fifty years ago such a thing as a photograph had never been imagined. Daguerre's process, long since abandon ed, was first announced to the French Academy of Sciences by Arago in 1839. It was in 1835 that Charles Goodyear took out his first patent for an India- rubber cement. Before that time the few "gum" overshoes that were worn came from the crude manufacture of ; the Indian's of Brazill. Garden hose, waterproofs, and all the multifarious list of hard and soft rubber goods be long to the last half century. The vul canized rubber was not made till 1844, and of course all the combs, pencil cases, and articles of use and adornment • of that material belong to a later day. In 1836 the first successful machines for making pins were put into operation in New York, bujt these were the kind with wire or"spuh heads" which had a way of slipping down toward the point and leaving the upper end of the pin to get into the thumb or finger. The process of making pins with solid • heads, such as are now in universal use, • was not patented until 1840. People wrote their letters with quill pens in 1835, and there was no note paper, little ruled paper of any kind, no blotting paper, no envelopes and no stamps. Fine sand was used to take •up the surplus ink, and only one sheet or piece of paper being allowed to go by mail at a single rate, foolscap was largely used for correspondence on ac count of its size, till it was replaced by large, square sheets of letter paper. - There were no postal cards and no money orders. Steel pens were not in common use then, nor for a long . tinje afterwards, for they were neither cheap nor good. An American clergy man named Cleveland, having bought the right in England from another American to make gold pens in this country, induced Levi Brown, a watch maker of Detroit, to undertake their manufacture about the year 1835, the process at first being to' cut the pens with scissors from a thin, flat strip of gold. Brown removed to New York about 1840 and laid the foundation " there*for the important manufacture of t gold pens which now exists in that city. The use of anaesthetics was practi cally unknown till the effect of ether in rendering the patient insensible to pain in surgical operations was an nounced in 1846. Coal was hardly known as a fuel in this country fifty yeans ago. Everybody burned wood, ijucifer matches were not often seen in those days; fire was still kindled -with the tinder-box, and candles and pipe* were usually lighted with live coals from the fireplace. There was no gas for lighting streets or houses in this country. Whale oil lamps and tal- low "dips" were the universal reliance. Burning fluid, lard oil, and comphene came later, and it was years before the discovery of petroleum and the manu facture of kerosene gave us a cheaper and better light than the fathers over dreamed of. As for the brilliant and wonderful electric light, it hardly dates hack beyond the memory of the young est inhabitant. The boys and young men of '35 had neither velocipede nor bicycle; they had no glycerine to keep their hands from chapping, and pever heard of gun-cotton or dynamite. The housekeeper had no canned fruits what ever, and no preserved meats, .soups, or vegetables. She could get no con?, densed milk, no cocoa, and but little chocolate. She would have had to look long for a banana, and all imported fruits was scarce. She would as soon have thought of putting a raw squash on her table as a tomato in any form. Ice did not rattle in her water-pitcher, and she had no refrigerator. Tliera was no where *$! general introduction of water into houses, and the only waterworks in the country were at Philadelphia. Soda water and ice cream were not at hand to cool the palate in summer, and lager beer was a fluid whose name was never pronounced on these shores. The first really practical sewing machine had not been invented, and the household linen was spun and woven at home. Peripa tetic cobblers and tailoresses went from liouse to house to do the making and mending, and precious few things were used among the farmers that were not fashioned on the premises. Respectable old front doors were or namented with knockers, and door-bells were a curiosity in Jackson's time. The carpenter prepared every piece of wood work that went into the construction of a house. He hewed the sills, joists, beams, posts, rafters, and braces; planed and matched the boards, shaved the shingles in the woods and made the sliash and doors at his bench in winter. Womeji knit 'their own stockings, for the stores hold no Balbriggan hose, and the only elastics they could buy were made of silk inclosing several small coils of brass wire. There were no bed springs and no mattresses of hair, wool, tow, or cotton; all the sleeping was done updn feather and straw beds which rested upon a bed-cord that had to be tightened al>ont twice a year. Mack inac blankets were not in the market, nor the counterpanes which are now so common. There were no baby-carriages such as we now see, but occasionally a clumsy little cart with two wheels. The small children usually slept in a trundle-bed that was wheeled under the parental couch in the day time. Men smoked but few cigars, although good "Spanish cigars," as the imported ones were called, could be bought for three cents apiece. It Mas quite common for respectable women to smoke clay pipes; indeed, the doctors often directed them to smoke for indigestion. The process of electro-plating was unknown in those days, and conse quently the cheap plated ware of recent times could not lie had. Forks were made of steel and with but two prongs. Everyl >ody put food to his mouth with the knife, and the bandana spread upon the knees was the predecessor of the napkin. Individual butter plates had not appeared. Stoves were by no means in universal use, and the capacious brick ovens still did service on baking days. The few fire engines to be found were mostly of the "tub" variety, worked by hand and supplied with water by a gang of men extending to some brook or river, who passed leather buckets from one to another. The invention of steam fire engines was encouraged by the premium that was offered after the great New York fire in 1835, but it was nearly thirty years be fore they came into practical use. The chemical extinguishers came still later. Fifty years ago there was not an ex press company in the United States. The present system of carriage bv ex- pr ess originated in 1839, when William F. Harnden, of Boston, began his regu- tar trip to New York as a public mes senger. It was not every householder who could afford a clock, and there was no domestic timepiece except the tall varnished clock that clicked behind the door" with a pendulum that measured seconds. Watches were rare, and a good watch was a sight that not many eyes beheld. In 1835 there were probably about 1,200 newspapers in the United States; now there are five times as many. The printing press had not been changed in principle since the invention of the art, and nearly every press in existence was worked by hand'. The paper in all cases received its impression between a flat surface of type and an iron platen. Hoe's cylinder press, which was the first radical departure from the press of Faust and Guttenberg, was invented in 1847, and it was the first great step in the revolution that has taken place in the structure of printing macliines. Wood pulp, which now constitutes the bulk of all cheap paper for printing, came into use only a few years ago. The papier mache process of stereo typing was first used on the New York newspapers in 1861, and electrotyping dates back not more than thirty-five years ago. Only the houses of the wealthy con tained pianos fifty years ago. Cabinet and parlor organs were unknown, and even the melodeon existed only in the rocking or "toad" shape, and was held in the lap. Garhart's mel »deon with legs appeared in 1836. Bovs and girls in those days went to singing school and took their pitch in the choir from a tuning-fork. In the country great chests were more common than bureaus, and the "till" at one end was the de pository of the family cash. People went on long journeys in wagons or double carriages, with a trunk slung underneath the axletree.--Detroit Free Press. 1h*r pmntd me by unnoticed,these well-bred women and men; I find no recognition at the hands at the Upper Ten; They return tny hat uplifted tqdmfWVAW p HCm dye do? With a stonv stare-- A-Well! I declare!*-*, , ' * Or a "Who the dicktns are you?" " J * And yet I meet them nightly at german, dinner, and rout. The men of the clubs, the matrons and "bud*" this season out. At wedding, and fete, asd luncheon, l*sa always there to see. I know them all-- The great and small; An! all of them know me. - • There's Jorep, of the Knickerbocker--I've helped him often of late; At Mrs. Van der Velvet's IVt polished many a plato; To Miss Dudette, at Newport, I was all smiles and respect And yet when we mecj!" In the park or the strdB^ They give me the cut direct! ' I' Then what Is this vauntel breeding of the boasted Up)>er Ten-- This cowrtesv of women--this chivalry of men? Do they think I have no feeling? Do they all ignore me so Because I'm a waiter From the eminent cator- * Tng firm of Gobble A Co.'/ --Arthur Loirell, in th« Century. , , THE UNSOLVED Might Have Strengthened His Figure. Revivalist Sam Jones says: "I'd rather be in Heaven learning my A B C's than in hell reading Greek." He might reverse the order of the studies without changing locations, and still ex press the sentiments of the ninety-nine per cent, of his audience. His compar ison is not happy. Reading Greek any where is a pretty severe affliction.-- Norrtiftown Herald. A Lucky Dog. "Johnny, what were you saying to that dog ?" asked a Texas mother of her little boy. "I was talking to him. I told him: 'You have a good time of it. You don't have to wash your face, or comb your hair, and you don't even have to go to school.' "--Texas Sifiingx. I WOULD not laugh but to instruct j or, if my mirth cetBte to be instructive, it shall never cease to be innocent. Addison. BY WM. B. CHlSHOIiM. It was A startling suicide, no doubt of it! Strpck down in a moment, at his own hearthstone, by hfc own hand, he, Jasper McCrea, one of the "warmest" merchants of the West End! The whole house, neighoorhood, square, was in an uproar. The police were quiet, but active. Mrs. McCrea, the young and handsome widow was in a state of "physical and mental prostration." Sir Vervain Clare had not put in an ap pearance since the fatal occurrence. He was, however, in town vet. L Well, it was time for him and the rest of his ilk to make themselves scarce! Per haps as a widow she might have a chance lo regain some of that reputation which with Sir Vervain's aid she had* been lately squandering. "Suicide from jealously! Of course! Who could ever doubt it?" Sir Vervain was young, handsome, pen niless. and a perfect scapegrace. Jasper McCrea was middle-aged, rich, a plebeian, honest, and "soft" on his wife. Ergo; Mrs. McCrea,nee liarrow.twenty-live and bloom ing, nmst transfer her affections to the scapegrace. This was naughty but it was nature! Ergo; Jasper McCiea had committed felo dene. In other wolds he had blown his brains out! What did he ever marry her for? What have you, reader,every day of your life, done almost as foolish things for? on a small scale perhaps! How could he li^lp it. Fate! "I'd'a fated it different," said old Tom Henningham, the butler, to Pride, the gov erness, the ilav after the murder. "I'd 'a fated it different! Talk about fate to me! Master adn't any show with her from the first. She was going to till the whole estab lishment with her young dookes and erruls from cellar to garret, and if she couldn't get them she'd take up with baronets!" Of course Tom Henningham and Miss Pride were very "thick," if they could talk of their mistress up stairs thus. Tom had seen different times from these. Mrs. McCrenf No. 1, had been his ideal. She had died after a brief but happy wed ded life, leaving one child--a little girl. This daughter was nearly grown when Belle Burrow, the pretty daughter of a thriftless, drunken baron, had consented lo be an old mau's darling for the sake of his money bags. The way she dipped into them would have made your head swim! She didn't do things by halves. She was young, beautiful, and inperions. Her hus band doted on her. Instead of quiet, old- fashioned slay-at-home family life, here was a perfect swarm of parasites, eating up his money in ovstor suppers, and drinking his champagJEie lty the basket. He bore it like a martyi*. Bnt a darker cloud came over his horizon. It was in the shape of Sir Vervain Clare. This gentleman was not publicly disre putable, bnt hewasnotthe kind to enchance a woman's reputation. Young, handsome, bold, and witty, he went right straight into the affection of thi* silly creature. She actually loved liim! AVith Jasper McCrea's child, her step^ daughter, asleep in the nursery, she would flirt and dance with this popinjay by the hour. Did "Father McCrea," as Vervain Clare called him to his intimate friends--did Father McCrea relish these proceedings? • Well! we should guess not. But what was he to do? She wouid nearly smother him with her flatteries and blandishments. She was not the sort of woman that necessa rily chills in manner because she has taken up a vagrant fancy elsewhere. She never neglected a chance of coddling the world- worn man. In some respects she was really a good wife. Ostensibly her home was a picture of propriety and good man agement. Behind the scenes there might have been a darker side. But a shrewd woman can manipulate such things very neatlv sometimes-- at least for awhile. At last there comes an eclair cinnment. Then the world wags its tongue at both ends. ! "Who would have thought it?" This is* what Bvron calls "the worlds kind Amen." Another form of expressing de light at seeing our neighbors' "soiled" linen washed in public: "I told yon so!" "I told you so--this state of things could not go on forever!" Such was Mrs. Ponsonby's ejaculation to her dear, delightful partner at whist--old Mrs. Dempsey. They had drank the Mc Crea wines, and eaten the McCrea suppers. Consequently it was in order to tire a part ing shot at everything McCrea. "Stuck up jade." "Pity he didn't get a divorce when he first found it out!" "We don't know yethe first found it out. They seemed to be all right with each other up to the hour of his death." "I heard he had suspected it a long time." Here old Major Macasson, an inveter ate snuff-taker and gossip, hobbled up on his cane to where these old dames were shuffling their cards. He held an evening paper in his hand. "Have you heard the latest?" "No; what?" exclaimed both the whist players in a breath. "Bead it out to us, Major." "The coroner's jury in the case of the sudden and mysterious death of Jasper McCrea, Esquire, coal dealer, No. 13 Dy- nevor Terrace, has rendered a verdict of murder." Old Mrs. Dempsey shrieked aloud. Mrs. Ponsonby gently fainted. Major Macasson rushed for hartshorn. Curioisty, however, soon got the better of terror. As we of the " States" would say, "Do tell!" • • • » » • The suicide theory was exploded. Ex perts had convinced the jury that the de ceased never held the pistol, as was indi cated by the direction of the ball. He was dead when the servant got to him. Dead men tell no tale*. The question had been asked: "When was the shot fired?" Tom Henningham had noticed the time about twenty minutes after* the occurrence. It was twenty minutes to 11. Mrs. McCrea was out at a sociable. Here was a splendid alibi for her. Vervain Clare was at his club. Here was a first-class alibi for him, Tom Henningham was in bed, aiid hi» ap parition in white among a bevy of shrink ing females, who were ahead of him around the corpse, was enough of an alibi to' sat isfy a perfect Jeffreys of a (judge Pride was awaiting her mistress' return in young Miss McCrea's chamber. Twenty minutes to 11? Were the doers ill found shut and locked? Every single one of them. The windows down? No Master's library window was open as usual It was &£ay. and he was partial to draughts of air. Twenty minutes after th? shot! Then Jasper McCrea was murdered at twenty minutes past 10. At twenty min utes past II) every soul questioned could prove an alibi. Of course he shot himself. What folly and insult to suspect his wife or Bervant? Bell McCrea could not have held a pistol to save her life. She had a horror of aveu toy pistols. Sir Vervain Clare wait at the Mercury Club at twenty minutes past 10. It was fully ten minutes rapid driving from the Mercury to Dynevor Terrace. How long had he been there? Oh, fully twenty minutes. This several waiters could prove. Was the clock correct lo city time when next noticed? Nobody had thought of it till the officers of the law came. Then they found it exact to the second with observatory time. Master generally kept his clock five minutes ahead of Greenwich time. This was a fancy of his as he dreaded nothing so much as possible delay in meeting en gagements, and preferred to err on the safe side. Queen's counsel visibly pricked up his ears. "Ah" Tom Henningham turned pale. It was as if a sudden thought had flashed across him. "Great God! can it be?" There was a general sensation. Silence in the court! Officer, suppress any at tempt at demonstration. Aesculapius had quarreled with the course of the ball. Not much like suicide. Father Time now de manded that those five minutes should be accounted for. 4 All eyes, as if by magic, fell upon Sit Vervain Clare. He was a tall and hand some man, elegantly dressed, a sort of Prince Hal among fair women. He had light hair which curled in close ringlets around a graceful blow, pale blue eyes, and an oval face, clean "shaven except for a dainty yellowish mustache, which he cul tivated with assiduous care. He was just 25. He had evidently braced himself for this ordeal. There was a flush about his face which suggested champagne or brandy. But not a muscle quivered. The women gazed at him as at a new Don Juan. This would have been an un comfortable moment for the most stolid of fashionable men. Yet he faced the room full with a serene and nonchalant air. Then followed a cross-examination., as severe as a respectable gentleman is apt to find himself ever subjected to in this refined age. "You saw the deceased last, when, Sir Vervain? " "At o'clock the evening of his death." "Where?" "In his private library." These words produced a marked sensation. "Silence in the court!" "Have you any objection to state whether there was friendly feeling between yourself and the deceased." "That is irrelevant,"said the young man, inclining to be haughty. "Am I here to account for my relations to people?" "Sometimes such relations count with a jury," said his tormentor, carelessly. "Am I through or not?" said the baronet, with a feeble attempt at<i yawn. "You may sit down." was the reply. There was a suppressed murmur of in dignation, which was promptly checked by the guardian of the peace. This young man could not have tossed his head thus with American Vigilanter! There wa < absolutely no fixing the true inwardness of the case. But medical opin ion as to suicide was backed by a fatally strong link. Those five short minutes. Of course it would have required hard driving or running to have reached the yard, and thence into the library in five minutes, for a man at the Mercury Club some squares distant. But the clock had been tampered with. Ay, there was the rub! What like lihood was there that the dead man should have changed the time just before firing the fatal shot? And what more reasonable than that the murderer--the assassin, so the prosecutor called him in no doubtful tones, should hope that a fraud so slight would never be detected, and would per haps serve to establish his alibi. None but a shrewd hand would have thought of such a subterfuge. Had the grounds been exdtarined? Yes! Not a foot-print not a trace! Very likely! Since an intruder could have reached the low library window from the street by the tesselated walk. And the ground it.-telf was parched and dry, so that foot-piints would have made little impression. Was there any evidence of a struggle? Not a particle. He had been discovered with the pistol in his hand. With the pistol in his hand? And this poor scape-grace of a Lothario suspected of so devilish a crime. Cannot a pistol be inserted into a dead man's hand? Then it must have been done in the twinkling of au eve. The maids were in the room two minutes after the report was heard. Tom Henningham a minute or two later. Was any suspicions-looking person no ticed prowling around the premises pre vious to the fatal occurrence? Not a soul. Nobody in the neighborhood had noticed anything suspicious. In fact it was a very dark night. An assassin could not have chosen a better for his purpose. It goes without saying that the dead man's watch and pocketbook, which he always carried about him, were unditurbed. The doctors didn't disagree this time. Likewise the clock did disagree--with its usual habits. Enough said! "Willful murder at the hand of a person or persons unknown!" "Persons!" thought Tom Henningham. scornfully, as he walked home slowly and sadly, the pale face ever before his eyes. "But two persons who could benefit by the death of that saint!" "Pride," said Marian McC'rea. the fair little girl who had been so suddenly and terribly orphaned, to her confidential at tendant and nursery governess the morn ing after this startling verdict--r "Well! my poor lamb." "Where is--is--that little locket--my own mamma's likeness, you know, that I have always kept on my bureau. To-day is the first time I have thought of it since-- since--oh, Pride, you know since when!" Pride was sitting quietly at htr work when these words fell on her- ear. They seemed like a rain of molted iron. She started and turned pale. Marian regarded her with eye* of inno cent wonder. Pride could hardly frame a syllable. She looked as if she would faint. "My God! Miss Marian--he--your father came and took it out of here that very evening, while you were at supper. And thev never found it on him. I saw him looking at it as I passed through the li brary an hour before it all happened, and he put it in his coat pocket as I approached. Then, seeing it was me, he took it out again. 'Is that you, Pride?' says bo, as if relieved. 'I thought it was'--he never said who." • "No, thank God, he didn't call /iernime!" • • » « • tr •» Marian McCrea and her beautiful step mother never spoke. They had for months been dead to each other. It was very likely that such Bhould be the case. How would you like to go thought lessly into the room where your step mother was tete-a-tete with a handsome swell, and see him with his arms about her waist? It would be a good way to lead to your getting rid of her. * No other human being ever knows to this day how in the world Belle McCrea ever induced her step-daughter not to tell her father. This would have procured the Baronet the honor of a genteel hiding. Jasper McCrea had bec*i a soldier in his youth. He was no craven, or ouckold, of his own free will. Pride! pride! pride! She had thrown dust into his eyes. The smooth-tongued traitress! Even hints of the truth could not goad on Jasper McCiea to extremes. Pride! pride! pride! / There must bu something overt. This waist-scene would have been overt enough. Vervain Clare would never have left that house with whole bones. At that identical moment Jasper McCrea had been in his library. Two steps more and Marian McCrea might have freed her father and horself of .this bad woman. Belle McCrea Caught hold of her dress and actually pinned her down. uQo, Sir j Vervain!" she said, pointing the baronet to the door. "I must •» my daughter my self!" " 1'oMr daughter!" That was all. Oh! the refinement of con tempt and hate in those three syllables! Then she had pleaded and implored, as no one but those two everkuew, for mercy. She, the proud mistress, had knelt before the shy. joyless, sensitive child.^ "My God!" she thought afterward to herself. "What a come down--to kneel before that chit! Yet I finally hushed her up. My God! Vervain must be more careful. He will rain me yet!" It is needless to say that these devoted "steps" had not met since .the murder. Their rooms adjoined and now they could hear each other's sobs. "Sobbing for what?" thought Marian McCrea, as she heard Bell's so^s in the intervals of her own. "For her disgrace and danger aud that of her paramour. My God! I could take this blade in my hand und go in there and drive it to her heart. I'm not sure, but what I shall. If she murdered my father, I'll murder her But tnat locket! that locket! that locket! What thief or assassin could want that? What good would her mamma's pioture do to Vervain Clare? A chaste woman's face would be a reproach to such as him! In another moment an awful thought rushed into her mind. Vervain Clare had seen that locket in her father's hands when he fired that fatal shot and snatched it a.s befell, thinking it was the likeness of her stepmother." The girl had fainted and lay as one dead. "Oh! God what shall I do?" screamed Pride. "They've murdered him and now they'll murder her. Oh! my God, my God! have mercy upon us miserable sin ners!" Pride was a ritualist and neve# forgot the litany in her extremest moments. She said "miserurble" up kfany Frenchman or Spaniard! There was a scene. Belle McCrea had rushed in to find her stepdaughter Stretched ,9,foaming like one dead. The servants were rushing in from all parts of the establishment. The whole house was in an uproar. Jasper McCrea had been buried that morning with sad solemnity and an immense concourse. The male servants had just returned from the funeral. In England, as is well known, females of the family do not go to the grave. This saves a deal of dead-faints aud sal-Volatile. The weeping sons, husbands, and fathers, don't propose to jump in with the coffin.' She was raving. A doctor and an officer of the law were at her bedside. It was a scene. Belle McCrea felt her nerves giv ing way. This was worse than death. Snddenly she revived from her faint. But her eyes now had an expression of madness. Belle McCrea started to leave the room. The girl caught sight of her as she lay there. "Give me my mother's locket. Don't let that woman go! She. aud he are my father's murderers." Pride, in an agony of astonishment and dismay started to put her hand over her young mis tress' month. The girl rose up like a fury. Her eyes glared. Her teeth clenched. "No! I will speak! They have murdered him! Where is that locket, that locket, that locket?" shrieked she, digging her thin nails into the very flesh. "You have murdered him that you might marry each other!" Belle McCrea here gave one scream and fainted. The men bore her to her room. The doctor gave Mirian an opiate by force. Soon she v • calmer. * • ». * Ten minutes after this the officer whom we left at the bedside of Marian McCrea, was closeted with his chief. In one hour thereafter the same officer was at the door of Vervain Clare's rooms with a warrant to search. "Where is Vervain Clare?" "Not here, sir!" said the maid, shaking in her shoes. "Leastwise, he drove out about ten minutes ago!" "The devil!" mnttered the officer. "He has taken that locket with him, or pitched it into the Thames!" He had left his keys! The officer gave a chuckle. Sharp dodge. Guess that love letters i.s about all we'll run afoul of here. Lace kerchief, maybe, or perfume bottles! There was no locket in the room any where. They searched all around. But, great Heaven! what else did they find? What madness induced Vervain Clare, a sensible modern English gentle man to leave to the mercy of intruders and spies such damning written evidence against himself and the women he loved? Written evidence of a kind too flagrant and clear to be mistaken--lock of her hair, her photograph--yes, what is that--her photo graph. Then why did he need her locket? Jealous of her husband's own jewelled locket! The dog, the brute! To murder a man for his wife and steal her locket from his dying finger! Where is Judge Lynch? Alas! for the cold blood of these stupid Britishers! Well, he left his lady's card photograph, a lock of her beautiful auburn hair, perfumed notes by the dozen in which he was "my darling," "My precious Vervain," and keepsakes of beauty and value. And, Heavens! what was that? Her check payable to the Bearer for five hun dred pounds! She had been supporting this wretch! The officers gasped for breath. "Whew! these fine ladies do do queer and curious things! It seems as if the husband they wasn't married to, and who they have to feed, was a sight more to rem than the hus band they had gone to church with and who feeds them!" At least such was the inference drawn by this honest officer. It is 3 o'clock in the afternoon. A train from London is steaming into Dover. A tall policeman with a telegram in his hand looks anxiously at the passengers as they alight. "Wait! There he4s! Light hair, waxy yellow mustache--answers description ex actly! Sir Vervain Clare," said he, ad dressing that gentleman in a low tone so as not to attract too much attention, "I ar rest yon by telegraphic order from Chief of Section No--, in the Queen's name!" Sir Vervain was a self-possessed man. His nerves were strung to an intense pitch. But he was calm. "For what, if you please." said he, levelling his eye-glass at the local policeman. "For the murder of Jasper McCrea!" Sir Vervain turned pale. The officers thought it the paleness of guilt. Then in a low tone he said: "Blast Jasper McCrea! I may have injured him, but I never laid hands on him, so help me God?" "You are my prisoner, nevertheless." "All right," said the Baronet, coolly. "Disgrace me and her if--" his voice here trembled--' and her--if--if you will, but no British jury can hang me for thai man. He was kind to me and I wouldn't have in jured a hair of his head." "Your flight, Sir Vervain," suggested the officer as they walked to the place whore a train was about to start back for London. "My flight! My God! was it not time to flee? Yet stay! I would have gone back to London without you or your telegram," said he, putting his hands suddenly in his coat pockets. "My God! I left those keys on my table. Oh God! oh God!" And the strong man wept with agony and shame. He had gone and done it now. Where would the last shred of her reputation be henceforth? Those letters, that photo gTaph, that lock of "auburn hair! Oh, fool! fool! fool that he was! Why did the cow ardly fear of public opinion tempt him to take that fatal train? When he arrived in London and was landed in his prison accommodations, the same officer who had searched his room proceeded to search his person. The Baronet, scion of men who had fought at Hastings and Bosworth, drew back and doubled his fist. The very • dia mond on it--her diamond--seemed to flash fire. "I am a gentleman," said he, looking aa if he would spit into this minion's face. '̂••oftly, softly ̂ my friend!" said the offi- otft wtth a sneer, as he half displayed a ppfcof band-cuffs from his pocket. "Gen- tfcpen, are men all the same, and of soms men jhe law says very ugly things. Where iB Jasper McCrea's locket?" Sit'Vervain looked at him in astonish ment. The. man actually had to explain. • «*£ohRummate actor," thought the officer. As the truth flashedacroSB Vervain Clare's mind, he covered his face with his hands and sobbed as if his heart would break. "My God! they thonght I shot him in his own library, and stole his dead wife's pic ture from his blood-covered fingers. Oh! my God! Belle! Belle! Belle!" moaned he, regardless of the presence of several men in his cell. "What have you not done for me?" j Then he rose and towered to his full height. "Yes, gentlemen, I must say you are, one and all, a pack of---fools! I would do much for a woman. God knows they have between them ruined me! But murder and hang for them I will not. I guess if that idiot, Henningham. will have the goodness to look on the third shelf, north row of shelves in a manuscript book which Mr. McCrea kept odds and ends in, he will find their beautiful locket! I saw bim put it there myself when I last saw him at nine o'clock at night. I never thought it of sufficient importance," added he with a rising sneer, "to inform your won derful coroner's jury." The men gazed at this prisoner with as tonishment and admiration. "Well! he was a cool hand." In ten minutes the officers were in Jasper McCrea's library. Behind them TonrHen- ningham, Pride, and Mrs. McCrei^herself. The latter pale with excitement anckmisery. There it is--the manuscript book7[ It is an old half-diarv, loosely-jointed, yfull of scraps. A thin locket case coula have easily been slipped in. The officer took it up--until the oed tape which bound it-- "held it upf The locket fell out! That clue was gone then. < Stay! what was that? A letter. To Tom Henningham! Dated May llfh. The day he died. Mrs. McCrea was as pale as a sheet/ Tom's hands trembled so that he could hardly hold the short note. It ran thus: Do'>r and Faithful Servant: Wha1 may happen before thisnigtat'is out, Obd only ImoiVB. If you flud mo in my own blood, a corpse, don't charge them with it. They are in nocent of that. When I am gone, then they may settle matters to suit themselves. If he alone was the sinner, I could easily settle him. I had my hand cn my pistol when I saw him in this room ten minutes ago. Yet I never lot him sup- pese that any act of his could possibly intensify mv contempt for him or my abhorre'nee of hid character. But shot she! Oh, God! Tom! (Here at ar actually blotted the paper.) You, who re member the dead one--the wife who was a wife-- you an 1 Pride can best realize how little this n e w m i s t r e s s l i a s l e f t t o m e [ " • • * • « (Then followed a few business directions, and th- n a reference to a will which had boon exe cuted that evening, "by this will it was after wards found that his wife was cut off with the least the law allowed.) The last words were: You'll be sure to find this paper. Tom, for there'll bo a search. Don't let them hang for me. I loave them t~> their own conscience. Bury me decently, and remember mo as 1 have remembered you. Anl, Oh! Tom. do you and Prido watch over my Marian. She will be a great heiress. God have mercv upon her! JASPER MCCBEA. The mystry of the five minutes would never be explained. He had probably changed the time himself that night! The murder was his own act! That evening the prison doors were thrown open to Sir Vervain Clare. . He was a free man. He had not walked the streets for three days. The first man he met was his most inti mate friend. He started impulsively to ward him. "Excuse me," said Lord Tone with a freezing stare. "I really--ah--have forgotten you!" "You are a--weather-cock!" said Vervain Clare, recoiling as if a snake had stung him. "Ah well! yes--let me see," said this sprig nobility. "An unfortunate enclandre. Don't like this thing of husbands' having committed suicide. Sounds bad!" He turned on his heel with a bow. The way of the world. Once down, every dog will give akick! This evening he went to Dover unmo lested. The following morn' the shore of France greeted his aching eyes. He stopped in Calais to rest aud think. He strolled that evening out towards the cemetery. Afar a figure in black seemed approaching. He sat on a rude seat, smoking. Before he could have guessed that any one was near, a pair of fair arms were liung around his neck, and Belle McCrea. in widow- weeds, had flung herself into his arms and fainted dead away! He had to take her now. She had thrown away honor, wealth, a husband, home, everything for him, a penniless gambler and man on town. He was no worse scoun drel than weakness makes. They were quietly married in the Protestant Chapel. What they fesl or what they think of them selves find each other, Heaven only knows! The Underground Railway of Siberia. Dr. Alfred E. Brehm's account of Siberia is calculated to modify the im pressions derived from the stories of exiles. The doctor was an observer, and the exiles were partisans; he revised much which they saw and felt; they, doubtless, exaggerated what they suf fered. On one point the doctor is prob ably, right, and this fact is of great im portance. If Siberia is a terrible prison, its terrors need not be long endured; escape is very easy. Even in the mines the convicts live free and unwatched, alone or with their families. He always (the worst grade of punishment is under consideration) wears chains and is lim ited to a certain area. But in a dis tant of 860 square miles only a hun dred soldiers are employed to guard thousands of convicts. The prisoners run away in pairs after careful prepara tion for "the journey. The mine-smith takes off the chains for ten copecks a man, and the two fugitives set off in the night, and for some days travel only at night. They are helped by everybody even the police officers give them money. The farmers system atically provide for them. At night provisions are placed in the windows for the unfortunates. When the pair come into such a village they go to the windows and get what they want. Then they proceed to the bath-house and find |a warm place to sleep. If a military patrol comes into the village during the night "the unfor tunates" are warned of their danger. "The farmer is the providence of these people." In brief, there is a most excellently equipped "underground railroad" out of Siberia. If the fugitive behaves himself the whole population helps him; if he steals, the whole village turns out to pursue and beat him to death, and "he is always found." "Judge Lynch" main tains excellent order in a region five times as large as the State of New York, and the government winks at his methods. "No country enjoys greater security than this colony of criminals." Fifteen thousand prisoners are annually sent there, and 5,000 of them escape. Some are caught and sent back; some spend their lives trying to get away, and at last die in their prison; but the great majority find the Siberian under ground railroad a safe and tolerably ex peditious means of transit to freedom. The greater part of the spirited and enterprising convicts get away if they desire to do so. Many are content to remain. Siberia is a growing country, rich in opportunities for energetic men. -- Christian Advocate. THE Government now maintains 2,000 light-houses, lightships, and stekelights on coasts and rivers, besides innumera ble fog signals and whistling and other buoys. ADVANCE circus advertising agents «£» the only successful rivals old Ahaniip - ever had. , . ; ^ WHEN a young lady says she nev# flirts she is aot lying about it; only pr# varicating. vu THKV are making the new styles if collars so high that before long youi*. men will have to stand on tiptoe to mb ̂ " r anything at all.--N. Y. Graphic. YKR ken jmbose on er enemy an' he doan' think much erbout it, but when yer impose on er friend, he is dun wii yer fur life.--Arkansaw Traveler. AN exchange asks, "What is the hofc test place in the United States?" We , reply without the slightest hesitation, hornet's nest.--Burlington Free PresK. JOSH BILLINGS, according to an ac quaintance, was the only man who ever ~ wanted to thrash a compositor for cofe recting his bad spelling.--New YorlI Journal. ' "YOOST hash yon please," said a Ger man landlady to her boarder, whi* threatened to leave on account of the , uninterrupted diet of desiccated bull- ' meat.--St. Paul Herald. AN Eastern professor claims that* person cannot taste anything in tlw dark. Some one ought to catch him ci$ a dark night and cram his mouth full of Mmeburger cheese,--Maverick. CL ITTLF. Charley--"Papa, will you bi me a drum ?" Fond father--"Ah, my boy, you will disturb me very mui if' lido." Charley--"O, no, papa; won't drum except when you're asleep.* --Pittsburgh Chronicle. A PERSONAL item going the rounds of the press slates that Rev. Edward Ev erett Hale -eats five times a day ana ' sleeps ninelioufcsl This is not so re-v markable he were to .sleep five times a day and eat sine hours. --Nor- • ristown Herald. A BERKS COUNTY woman lias no faitH in the "hot water cure." She poured Jl kettle of boiling water over her 1ms* band for coming home drunk, but it didn't do a particle of good. Three nights afterward he came home about forty degrees more intoxicated than ever before. ' • A WASHINGTON belle has created something of a sensation in social cir cles by marrying a policeman. A po liceman may make quite as good a hus band as a Congressman, but his wife won't be able to find him when she wants him. Nobody can.--Norriatown Herald. * AT 2 O'CLOCK A. M. He felt like a lion when starting for home, ' And a lamb when he entered th * door, For his wife was up waiting until he should' come, And grim was the look that she wore. "I'll see who's the boss," to the boys he had said. As he staggered out into the gloom, "I'll see who's the boss "f the house,"and te did When his shoulders she fanned with a broom, --Boston Courier. j KING LUDWIG, the mad king of Bava ria, thrashes the dentist every time he has a tooth pulled. The King's /teeth must pull very easily. When the den- - tist draws one of the King's molaifi, the root of which seems, to be clinched to his backbone, the probabilities arL that His Majesty will kill him and all^his family. --Norris toiv n Herald. AT the gate--She (frigidly): Allow you to kiss me good-night ere you go? I could not permit such a freedom, O, no. He (respectfully): Excuse ine. Of course vou know bsat what 1b right. But I meant no offense, I assure youl Good night. She (disappointedly): The fool t He must certainly have a thick head To think for a moment I meant what I • --Boston Courier. DUTCH MARRIAGE. Ton bromish now, you goot man due, Vat stands upon de vloor, To have dis voman for your wife, And lub her ebermore; To feed her well mit sour krout, Peans, buddermilk, and cheese, . And in all tin»s to lend your uid, Dat will promote her case? Ya, and you voman, standing dare. Do pledge your vord, dish tav, Dat you will take for your husband Dish man, and him opey; Dat you vill ped and poarfl mit him, * Vftsh, iron, and ment bis clothe, Laf ven lie shmiles, veep ven he sighs, Dus share his shoys and liis,j»es? --Texas Siftings. /' y~ "GOOT morning, my frind^rliow yoi* feel dese morning?" said A German doctor, taking his patidnt by the wrist. "Oh, I feel first-rate/doctor," said thtf patient in a fecble vmce. "So, so, dot'0 nice. Let me see dot tongue. Dot vaa nice too; dot vas fery goot--ferv goot. How vas dose headache?" '"That's all gone, doctor." "So, so; dot vas nice some more. How vas dose appedite ?" "Oh, I've got a splendid appetite, doc tor. It seems as though I can't get half enough to eat. I can eat anything." "So, so. Den I mighty zoon give you somedings to dook away all dot."--Chi' cago Ledger. Fault Finding at Table. Woe betide the woman married to a man who systematically growls at the table! Life brings her neither peace nor happiness; three times a day her tyrant growls and snarls like any other wild animal over his food. I knew a man of this kind once, and how I pitied his wife and daughters. One of the latter mar ried in haste one day--joined her for tunes with those of a comparatively poor man not exactly in the same set as she was accustomed to live in, simply to have her meals in peace. It is said that she made her future husband swear that he would never make a fuss over his dinner, and I understand that they are to-day the happiest couple living. Re conciliation took place before they were married but they left before the nuptial breakfast--we all remarked that--and though of course she visits the house, nothing could ever induce her to take a meal there. She is a woman of spirit. As for the man's wife--poor woman I May be in younger days she might have thought of possible relief by means of divorce, and they do say--mind you I do not assert it, though it did come from a distinguished jurist--that something of this kind was entertained; but such a plea of mental insanity, when only food was placed before him, could not be ad vanced, for in every other relation of life--that i« to say, save when at the table--he was amiability itself. If he were only younger the habit might be whipped out of him; as it is, it can only be borne with patience.--Springfield Union. Reciprocated Sentiment. "That woman," said a gentleman re siding on the upper story of a Califor nia tenement, in speaking of a young lady on the lower floor who is taking music lessons, "displays great deftness in her fingers in manipulating the keys." "Yes," remarked his wife, "and if she keeps on you will soon* display great deafness in your ears."--California Maverick. Boy's Definition. A boy in one of the public schools de fined the word "demagogue" "as a ves sel that holds beer, wine, gin, whiskey ̂ or any other kind of intoxioating liq uor."--Ejrrhange. .H- •