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Sin had 3101 (ta To Ihe plea had or pra; thou life. it n that the) with 'tha The) and I01" “'8 l" gimn' [M Bret S}: An. in many a. country parish, except that, the population being very small, there were but few recent graves. Most of the mounds had no head-stones to re- call the names of the neglected dead, but here and there were dotted discol- ored slabs, some suznk afoot or two into the soil, a few lying prone upon it, and the remainder thrown by the gradual subsidence of their supports in- .to every variety of angle, as though they had been suddenly halted in the maddest whirl of a. grotesque dance ancient-h» Picking her way through these, An- gela stopped under an ancient yew. and, pointing to one of two shadowed mounds to which the moonlight scarce- ly struggled, said in a low voice: “That is my mother’s grave.” It was a modest tenement, enough, a little heap of close green turf, sur- rounded by a railing, and planted with tweet-Williams and forget-me-nots. At its head was placed a white marble cram, on which Arthur could just dis- tinguish the words "Hilda Caresfoot,” and the date oi death. On this particular evening} some such feeling was stirring in Angela's heart as with slow steps she led the way into the little village churchyard” a. simil- ar spot to that which is to be found hours. It was one of those nights that fill us with an indescribable emotion. bringing us into closer companionship with the unseen than ever does the gar- ish, busy day. In such an hour, we can sometimes feel, or think that we can feel, other presences around us, and involuntarily we listen for the whisp- er of the wings. and the half-forgotten voices of our beloved. 1 Angela hung her head and made no answer. and the clock above them boom- ed out the hour, raising its sullen. note in insolent defiance of the silence. \Vhat is it that is so solemn about the striking of the belfry-clock when one stands in a churchyard at night? Is it that the hour softens our natures, and makes them more amenable to semi-superstitious influences? Or is it that the thousand evidences of depart- ed mortality which surrounds us, ap- peal with dumb force to natural fears, He was about to speak, but she stop- ped him with a gentle movement, and then, stepping forward to the head of the railing, she buried; her face in her hands, and remained motionless. Ar~ thur watched her with curiosity. What, he wondered, was passing in the mind of this strange and beautiful woman, who had grown up so sweet and pure amidst moral desolation, like a white lily blooming alone on the black Afric- ens with her light. Every twig and blade of grass showed out as clearly as in the day, but looked like frosted silver. The silence was intense, and so still was the air that the sharp shadows of the trees were'mot'ionless upon the grass, only growing with; the growing an plains in winter? Suddenly she raised her head, and. saw the inquiring look be bent upon her. She came tow- ard him, and, in‘ that sweet half-plead- ing voice which was one of her greatest charms, she said, . "I fear you think me very foolish 2” "Why should I think you. foolish ?” "Because I have come here at night to stand before a half-forgotten grave.” - throw Open for a space the gates of our world-sealed imagination. to ten- ant its vast hells with prophetic echoes of our end? Perhaps it is useless to inquire. The result remains the same; few of us can hear those tones at n 1ght without a. quslm, and, did we put our thoughts into words, they would run something thus: “That souand once broke upon the liv- ing ears of those who sleep around us. We hear it now. In a little while, hour after hour, it will echo against the tombstones of our! graves, and new generations, coming out of the silent uture, will stand ”where we stand, and hearkeu; and muse. as we mused, over the old problem: that we have gone to salmwhflstweâ€"shallwenotbedeat to hear and dumb to utter!" Bush, at any rate, were the Mints that crept into the hearts 0of ' “I do not think you foolish, indeed. I was only wondering what was pass- ing in your mind." It was one of those nights of which, if we are lucky, we get some five or six in the course of an English sum- mer. The moon was at her full, and, the twilight ended, she filled the heav- on her mind; but the extraordinary beauty of the evening, to say nothing of the prospect of his company, turned the scale in Arthur’s favor. It was on the evening of this Sat- urday that Arthur gathered up his courage and asked Angela to come and walk through the ruins with him. An- gela hesitated a little; the shadow of something about to happen had fallen One Saturday morning, when May was three parts gone, Philip announced his intention of going up to London till the Monday on busines. He was a man who had long since become callous to appearances, and though Arthur, fearful less spiteful things should be said of Angela, almost hinted that it would look odd, his host merely laughed and said that he had little doubt but that his daughter was quite: able to look after herself, even whom such a fascin- ating young gentleman as himself was concerned. As amatter of fact, his object was to get rid of Angela by marrying her to this young Heigham, who had so opportunely tumbled down from the skies, and whom he rather liked than otherwise. This being the case, he rightly concluded that, the more the two were left together, the greater probability there was of. his ob- ject being attained. Accordingly he left them together as much as possible. CHAPTER XXVI. wâ€"â€", -â€" v“- ‘HVOW is right, you will however stonmy your life may be, lay up for yourself, as I feel that I have done, an everlasting Joy.' N She listened to him in silence. “Angela," he went on, boldly enough, now that the ice was broken, “I have often thought about what my mother said, but until now I have never quite understood her meaning. I do under- stand it now. Angela, do you under- stand me ?" I am glad to go, beéauééwiilâ€"m-Jv} I am §wa_1t_ed by your father. And from this of your life, for there only will you find it. (Do not fritter away your heart, but seek out some woman, some one good and pure and true, and in giving her your devotion you will reap a. full reward, for her happimess will reflect your own, and, if your choice: ‘7 less as those of one entrancedc Then slowly he gathered up his cour- age for an effort, and, raising his face to the level of her own, he kissed her full upon her lips. She stirred, she sighed. He had broken the spell; the sweet face that had withdrawn itself drew nearer to him; for a second the awakened eyes looked’ into his own.,\ and filled them with reflected splendo ._. and then he became aware of a warm arm thrown about his neck, and next the stars grew dim and sense and life it- self seemed to shake upon their thrones for a joy almost too great for mortal man. to bear took]: possession of his of my own existence, in the midst of many troubles; first, the great devo- tion I bore your father, and then that which I entertain for yourself. With- out these two ties life would indeed have been a desert. ‘And yet, though it is a grief to me to leave you and though I shrink from the dark pass- age that lies before me. so far does‘ that first great love outweigh the love I hear yom‘that in my calmer moments _w '-__ v v_â€".- my mother spoke, who must be sougood and pure and true.’ You are she. I love you, Angela, I love you with my whole life and soul; 1 love you for this world and the next. Oh! do not re- ject me; though I am so little worthy of you. I will try to grow so. Dearest “It is beautiful. Shall we sit down here and look at it ’I” They sat down on a low mass of' fall- en masonry some fifteen paces from the window. Around them lay a delicate tracery of shadows, whilst they them- selves were seated in the eye of the moonlight, and remained for awhile as silent and as still as though they had been the shades of the painted figures that had once filled the stony frame above them. ' “Angela,” he said, at lengthâ€"“An- gela, listen, and I will tell you some- thing. My mother, a woman to whom sorrow had become almcsb an inspira- tion, when she was dying, Spoke to me something thus: ‘There is,’ she said, ‘but one thing that I know of that has the power to make life happy as God meant it to be, and as the folly and weakness of men and. women render it nearly impossxble for it to be, and that is‘â€"love. Love has been the consolation There was no answer; she sat there upon the fallen masonry, gazing at the ruins round her, motionless and whrte as a. marble goddess, forgotté'n‘in‘ hex: desecrated fame. “Oh, Angela, listen to Inaâ€"listen to me! {nave found the woman of whom U V. --7Vv â€"â€"â€"“â€"â€"~v can you love me?" Still there was silence, but he thought that he saw her breast heave gently. Then he placed his hand, all trembling with the fierce emotion that throbbed along his veins, upon the palm that hung listless by her side and gazedl in- to her eyes. Still she neither spoke nor shrunk, and, in the imperfect light, her‘face looked very pale, while her ‘ _â€"'â€"â€"~Yâ€"'_ heart as she laid her willing lips upon his own. And them before he knew! her purpose, she slid down upon her knees beside him, and placed her head upon his breast. “Dearest," he said, “don’t kneel so; look at me." - , 4 Slowly she raised her face, wreathed and lovely with many blushes. and look- ed upon him with tearful eyes. He tried to raise her. . . . . . low. "I am best so; it is the attitw‘de of adoration. 3nd I have foundâ€"my di- vinity." ."But I cannot hear to see you kneel to “.0. "Oh! Arthur you do not understand. “What do you want to see ?" she said, presently, with as near! an approach to irritation as he had ever heard her indulge in. “That is the famous win- dow that Mr. Fraser always goes into raptures about." 'She lookéd at him doubtfully, hesitat- ed and came. "Let 'us go toâ€"morrow; it is later than I generally go in. Pigott will wonder what has become of me." “Never mind Pigott. The night is too fine to waste asleep; besides you know. one should always look at ruins by__mopn!ight. Please come.” “Thereâ€"is no dew falling to-nighta \Vop't you come ?" he reoollected that he had set himself a task to do, and that now would be the time to do it. Absorbed in this reflection. he forgot his politeness and passed first through the turnstile. 0n the further side he paused, and looked earnestly into his beloved's faaoe. Their eyes met, and there was that in his that caused her to swiftly drop her own“ A silence ensued as they stood by the gate. He broke it. "‘lt is'a, lovély night. Let us walk thrgugh the ruins." “I shall wet. my feet; tlw dew must be falling." They turned and walked toward the gate, and by the time they reached it, all superstitious thoughts had vanished â€"at any rate, from Arthur' 3 mind, for Arthur and Angela as the full sound from the belfry thinned itself away in- to silence. She grew 3. little pale, and glanced at him, and he gave an in- voluntary shiver, while even the dog Agfck sniffed and whined uncomfort- a y.. “It feels cold," he said. "Shall we 9h” 9“» 'WBQBIQU meaning- A German with a Genius for "pol-aunt hues Sharp “'0”: In England. A fraud resembling somewhat the gold brick swindle perpetrated on cer- tain Calgary gentlemen has just been prahticed on the pawnhrokers of Lon- don, Manchester, Liverpool, Bristol and the large cities of England. The pre- siding demon in the case was aGerman with a genius for observation. He had noticed that in testing watches the pawnbrokers used their acid only on the stem. So he set to work and had some thousands of watches constructed with gold stems, but otherwise valueless, These he palmed off on the unsuspect- ing Isaacs and Jacobs and Israels in the second-hand jewellery trade with enormous profits. The phrOphets in fact, fell into his hands, and they are not likely to forget it. The London detectives are now on the German's tracks. Bryton Earlyâ€"W'ell, you’ll observe that science and civilization have made greater strides in the last 25 years than ever before. Sally-DeVVitteâ€"It’s a. great wonder how the wor-‘ld ever got along before yoy came lntp it. Mrs. Bilkinsâ€"T-he new girl broke four plates toâ€"day. Mr. Bilkinsâ€"Did she assign any rea- son for not bmaking the whole set? 1’11. .lJllJLl ”â€"1.11“ 0110 war: on u... son for not bmaking the whole 83%"? luck comes if you look at it through a. window. All these beliefs are wide- .DOUL’D BEAT THAT. spread. That a man should not build . . . t was believed. in Gal- bIIJSU -Y b b 18 ... wide- ahause for himsol awfiie glam, our 9. y a loway, as elsewhere, and those who quit- WalkerTShuckp! That’s nothing to ted a. house showed their good will by what he ‘5 fit ”“31“" =. '- not cleaning it up. ton this “took any A . . the luck." Newman ptoteotod them- A THRILLING MOMENT‘ calm by throw’uu a. out or n hon. or First Tomflatâ€"How did you fool m other “in“. infidb. before tho! .wflflmm‘3E12‘ég 333'...“ .3-“- entmd them-elven to: thin boo-m tho NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. A German and a Frenchman sat op- posite each other at table d'hote in a certain hotel in Switzerland. “You: are a Frenchman. I suppose?" inquir- ed the German at the commencement of the meal. “Yes," was the reply. "But been strictly denied until recently. It has also been arranged that any soldier who can play on any of the smaller musical instruments shall be provided with such instruments. The five largest rivers in the world are as follows: North America, Missis- sippi and Missouri, 4,300 miles; South America, Amazon and Beni, 4,000 miles; Asia, Yenesei and Selenga, 3,850 miles; Africa, Nile, 3,240 miles; EuIOpe, Vol- ga, Russia, 2,500 miles. how do you manage to find that out?" “Because you eat so much bread,"said the German. There was a long pause When the dinner was over the French- man in turn questioned his visâ€"a-vis. “You are a German, I presume?" “To be sure; but tell me pray, how you made that discovery." “Because you ate so much of everything,” was the dry re tort. A French general has inaugurated a plan of permitting soldiers to sing when on the march, a privilege which hen He rose and went'with' her in a. dream of joy that for a moment pre- cluded speech. At the door she bade him goodtpighfiz. 99d thpa.ppi_r_1ese.gave She loofed at him wwith a. curiously mixed expression of shy love and con- viction on her face, and answered: “Her spirit, who led me to your heart." him her lip; to kiss. Theh- théfFath-j ed. their hearts too full for words. One thing he asked her, however. “What was it that took yow to your mother's grave to-night?" me. it is out of the fullness of my heart. Take care. Arthur, oh! take care. lest your fate should be that of the magician you spoke of the other day, who evoked the spirit, and then' fell down before it in terror. You' have also called up a spirit, and I pray that it was not done in sport. lest it should t_roub_1e you hereafter." “Hush! Don't overrate me; your di- sil-lusion will be the more pamful. CQIPG, Arthur, _let us_ go home." “Angela, do not speak so to me; it is I who should have knelt to you. You were right when you called your- self “a. queen of happy things." You are a. queenâ€"â€"" she really loves." "Do youâ€"really love me. Angela?" “I do.” “Have you known that long!" “I only knew it whenâ€"when you kissed me. Before then there was something in my heart but I did not know what it was. Listen, dear," she went on, “for one minute to me first and I will get up," for he was again attempting to raise her. "What I havetosay isbestsaidupon my knees, for I want to thank God who sent you to me. and to thank you too for your goodness. It is so won- derful that you should love a simme girl like me, and I am so thankful to you‘. Oh! I have never lived till now. and,” rising to her full stature, “I feel as though I had been crowned a queen of happy thing-s. Dethrone me. desert me, and I will still be grateful to you for this hour of imperial happiness. But if you, after awhile, when you know all my faults and imperfections better. can still care for me, I know that there is something in me that will enable me to repay you for what you have given me, by making your whole life happy. Dear, I do not know if I speakas other women do, but. believe a. minute since I did not understand that a. mu is very humble when Second Tom_Cg.‘tâ€"Sa§y [My past ei_g_ht DIDN’T FINISH HER \VORK. SWINDLED THE JEWS. THE LARGEST RIVERS. \VITHIN HIS TIME. SINGING SOLDIERS. (To be Continued.) iRONICLE. January 13. 1898. Birth, Marriage and Death have each their own ('uslomsâ€"Many lton'ts as Regards the Second. , As might be expected in such a dis- trict as Galloway, which, till a late period was so remote from external in- fluences, and which had such a mark- ed individuality, the list of its local customs and beliefs is a long one. Let us take, first of all, those relating to times and seasons. \Ve find at the out- set, a statement about February wea- ther: “If Feberweer be fair an' clear, : there 11 be two winters in the year.“ . This further south is limited to Candle- 1 mas Day. The belief in the potency of dew collected on May Day morning, es- pecially as a cosmetic, exists in Gallo- way as it did in London in the days of Pepys. On Sunday it was unlucky to cut “hair or horn;” and as everywhere, great care must be taken in1 the dis- posal of the “clippings," on Saturday a piece of work should never be begun. ON NEW YEAR’S EVE. On New Year's Eve, which bears the widespread name Hogmanay, the fire was banked up with special care, for ill luck came‘ to the houseuvhen it went out, and to those who gave a turf next morning to light it again. Lucifer matches, at any rate, have! been a safe- guard to neighbors. In fact, on New Year's Day you must neither sell, nor lend, nor give, outside the house, which, obviously, is not the sentiment of our neighbours across the channel; but in- side its head formally presented some food and drink to all its inmates early ;in the morning, and even gave a little grain to his horses and cattle. There was a general rule that ow New Year's morning something should be brought ,into the house before any thing was taken out of i.,t and neither ashes nor ”‘slops" were to be carried. Muchi de- :pended on the “first foot, " that is, the first visitor. Some persons were har- bingens of ill luckâ€"women were al- ways amomg these, particularly if they were walking barefoot. Even on meet- ixng them outside, some peeple would turn back and give up an expedition. Candlemas was an important day in the schools. The boys and girls brought :presents to the master, generally mon- ey; then, he appointed one of each as SOME QUEER BELIEFS IN THE DIS- TRICT OF GALLOWAY. The moon was a centre or a number of fancies. A hen should be set when it is waning; the new moon, when seen for the first time, can help a. girl to the name at her future husband; it will bring a. wish to pass it you turn the money thrice in your pocket; but ill CURIOUS SCOTTISH UMENS king and queen, and treated. the chil- dren to cakes and weak “toddy.” On Hallowe'en they performed a. mummmg is the original earsaparilla. It has behind it a record for cures unequalled by any blood puri- fying compound. It is the only sareaparilla honored by 8 medal at the World’s Fair of 1893. Others imitate th e remedy; they can’t imitate the record : This is the stamp that the letter bore Which carried the story far and wide. 0: certain cure for the loathsome sore That bubbled up from the tainted tide Of the blood below. And 'twas Ayer’s name And his sarsapnrillo. that all now. know. That was just beginning its fight of fame M ith its cures of 50 years 130. Ayer’s Sarsaparilla BELIEFS IN THE MOON. Fifty Years Ago. Birth. marriage and death have each their own customs and superstitions As regards the second. there are many don"tsâ€"though not to the extent of the well-known adviceâ€"don't meet I funeral or have the bridecake chipped. or meet after the banns have heenpro claimed, or hear your own banns read. or enter the home after the wedding till the minister has gone in. or let him shake hands with either till the knot is tied. The bride. also. should not try on her wedding dress, when once it is finished. nor should the mother witnem the ceremony. pass. Never, it it can be 3V0'ldedp‘1u: a mare “foal" under a too , and s that a dark-eyed person is 11... films}; to 100" at 3 5“)le Dig. A liorsahée’f', brings luckâ€"that is universalâ€"3nd . does alive hedgehog; but a dead a black cat and a hare are 3.81... bad fortuneâ€"nay, some think even . wild rabbit ill to meet. ’Crowing hens were deemed as 01.16”: '- tionable as whistling lassies. and em “ a cock might not utter his natun notes at untimely hours, for ill would": come of itâ€"a belief often verified When i; fowls are kept in towns. .But if a 000.3? reaches the age of seven years he beg; comes a dangerous fowl. for then 1...? lays an egg and from this is hamhedi'sf a cockatrice. That, too, is a. vex-yum. spread notion. A cock is said to bu been solemnly tried and modem. - ed at Basie in the middle ages for th... heinous crime. Wild birds take 111.... part in auguries. Ill fortune com from injuring swallows, wrens, robins . rooks or cuckoos, but the last max} bring good or bad luck according mg; circumstances. A single magpie 1.13: lucky, and if three approach a house ‘1 a funeral will soon leave. q'y I‘ \ Snake stones can be found and bring good fortune, and a spell can be laid on the adder. If you try to kill one and it escapes the respite is brief. for you can make a “tryst” to meet it next day at a fixed hour and place. and it is bound to keep the amiointment, In one place they believe that wasps do not sting in September. The say- ing, “Many haws, many snaws," ex- presses what is generally believed fur- ther south, and other trees have their significance, especially the elder and the rowan, the last being a potent specific against witchcraft. In that. of course, everybody believed, that there are many stories about. spells and mutter-charms. V‘vâ€" Porte‘nts of death are much the same in Galloway as in other places. and so also are many of the customs. such as the opening doors and windows. put- ting salt on the breast of the corpse, offering refreshments at the funerel. together with a. host of superstitions iiiout suicides, drowned folk and the e. (.‘apull “'lllla. f. (Dull-Ir" Plans a Per“: on» Tran-oceanic Trip I» he Manned Next July. Captain \Villiam (‘. Oldrieve of Boo-U ton has planned to walk across the Atlantic Ocean. He will begin his journey J uly 4, and will be accompan- ied by Captam William A. Andrews 0! New York, {mans by reason of his voyage across the Atlantic in a small TO WALK ACROSS THE ATLANTIC. lily little boy looks up at meâ€" Im twenty-eight and he is three- Ahd three feet tell. I'm six. and on! He came: me my inches 303 But as the dengu- by 180°” 1h difference will be less wd 1°71 For while through you: of youth h’ . climb . Ill how heneeth the weicht 0‘ W Midland by.ummmorlfl0' And winters ebb. ale-[I my The clergy are held in ho least in fear, and evil mg?“ or spoken against them, for, as a goes, ”It's unlucky t' meddle and ministers." “Holed” stone; potent amulets for cattle. bu virtues of these are known parts of Britain. After a cow calved its back was sprinkled with . or oatmeal. The first milk it an afterward went by the nameofi 1mm“ (in the English midlands lmuni? and was used for various Spea'r'lal . nan“ Nnvnr if it m... I... -_ -. puf- building. I t was the rule in (21?; as in most. other places, that ‘ down the throat. AS TO THE CLERBY. The 88810103 shoes of M r. Oldrieve are the most wonderful part of the Whole digit. At first thuught the." seem a fabulous as the six-league boots of fairy lore. Yet they M81513? ole enough when understood. The: no really a. pair of cedar boxes. 3 [get 100‘. With. fins on the bottom 0:36 fldfifl- 'I'IIBy um very light and WP" ble 9! Mining 140 pounds. but. ‘5 Oldrleve weighs only 130, they are ‘5 800d to him as a steamer's deck- ocean and over to Havre. France. through the great bore of the River Seine md an up to Paris. to he there to attend the exposition of 1900 in our new sea-going shoesand smalmstfast' 88‘? and best boat that ever crossed the Atlwtic Ocean. the Phantom Ship- Every veael we speak on the mean will rpport one of us milking and some- tynes Wing the be“. in calm W8“ It is nothing new for Captain Old- rieve to promenade the waves. That has been his pleasure and profit theso ten yecrs. Captain Andrews, who is to be the companion of the water p0- destri‘n will journey in a. brand new 14-foot sailboat, and in this merely ne- peats a. feat performed in 1878 and again in 1892. Ciptain Andrews is really the man who has brought about the whole af- feir. Here is his own statement: “Incredible as it may seem. next you we are really going t0 walk and sell down Boston harbor. out onto the SNAKE STONES AND FORTUNE WHEN HE GROW-'8 TALL. Vs“ «a ‘6 7N“ r... Bi Hm (i ran t “'06: 1:11‘. : l’r‘u CH LO “'6 mam $1an 2W NU FR