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Durham Chronicle (1867), 7 Sep 1899, p. 13

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:11 about her, hich would you rather {f yourfzge and With you or an Ignorant young Del cold I could as in, aré to all dead. For in tically identic ilangudge- 0'” ° cial, the anci . lcia» and the s ech In W . pe unk 19d.” adours san . has now 3 .8 3 c3118“ tre than that, I 8 any one ever but Erofessorr. 3 what? T00 08 3 old," he said looked him n. ”Ppose that y gliskr sovereign mild to only a member 0} fly who zould under any ’ " succeed though it. may be doubt l0 hall would; £011 for I 01' ‘0‘ a prince or prim ”gm! the throne. The t bell of 5:. Paul: Lion which the .nd you ( now, so 1 13... “flat Gown! the list m Croat Bell. all at St qul’ s was not nee Remy of Batten he“ not in the line of 9 ‘ gentle insistence ‘ ”fie raised hers and ._ answered; "it is m true." 3r msxbxe ” she mur- ..m were asleep and m, “and nowâ€"you are isme in the morn- 35-14"? , ".. '13,.“ HI». HELL 0F ROYALTY ‘3'th mle possible?" . :W‘i miracle?" she Said, ‘ '1 y littl e hand? " white little hand. .. ' e, Evadne." . quite done With knew e stile er it t 8 her hand; she s stile. and ap- remembered to eyes were m“ g rose-flush m“ vain, fr “701003 mg secret”) the W" enough In 3' and be before he maker' any. nor was it perfect : unmistakable gip'SI that she was as SW perverse a creatur :he earth or broke Numerous were :ried for quarter deed, she had it ‘ Way With the sta .‘15 she thus stood, battling bravely! Wiih her thow'hts the dazzling Aug- 15:51111 shune brightly down upon her, l‘}1~h1 11g her fate and hair and figure “7:11 15 g1y warmth so as literally to fume he1 in its yellow goldâ€"and a 7'113 lie-111111111 111111: face it was to {tame ri h'v tint-ed, changeable and 3115511111119. e.\pressing only too clear- 15' :11 times the secret workings of her heart. He1 ey 1:5 11 ere singularly love- 15'. of a fne deep hazel, large, and 50111111111115 t u bug in their pathos; 3138i . it 1mm be (onfessed that she “5 by no mems angelic in her ten-v lien ies her celestial qualities being; £16.11ed1vfeu and f1r between, and 11211111 111111111311 11'1111 our coarser earth $1168 H": mouth was not small, 1 '1" W1: i1pe1fec1 and her color was an “18 Iakaul - gipsy- -brou 11; but for all 11.. 5h? \1 1s :15 511 eet and loveable and r’e‘irise :1 C1e111u1e as ever decorated ~11:- earth or broke the heart of man. Numerous 11 ere the victims Who 3191i for 11u1rter to M155 Blount; in- d? 1’ she h11l it verv much her own “3" “i h the stemer sex, few being ile to 1:1.111511111 her tender. Wild, 331311 sh E19111 113'. even hardy veterans 1:711» 11 h irelesslx t0 the little queen 03 binned their 1‘ mks so mercilessly. n )‘Hun- * grave and gay, succum- ew‘ii h 111:1 mu mur to her smiles. ""11 Walsh. 11. mever, she scarcely {:29 so‘well. in" exquisite, unsatis- ‘*‘ 1109 1163:1111 no passport tot their lhex 11zuld see no harm in it 1 ‘ ‘ partâ€"Voted her “odd â€"pecu- 53;? him My fastâ€"barely good look- -3}. aKCOIding to each speaker’s own '2‘“ 0f the 11:159. 1nd sought to “keep - down." 111111 1111 their might, gr " no 11111 9058, for, after em- 3;; will the energy they were cap- '20 reduoe her to the common Kat" 1115‘? “ere fain to confess that 11 Fine heeded them not. She lived Ear .; . b11131?- alone, careless of their appro- ....,..._c. "'ihsu is just one of the many points on which you and I so totally dis- xgree,” Archibald Blount answered, pleasantly, nu whit moved from his us- m; calm. g‘entlemanly demeanor by his daughter’s vehemenee, moving in- iolenzly out of the room as he conclud- ed, and closing the door with almost wcmmly gentleness behind him. When he was. gone, the girl clinched .39? small hands Lightly together to reap down the rebellious tears, and .eaning her head back against the shufter, strove hard to suppress the ficelmgs that ruse so angrily within her. terly out of the question," wed her father, languidly, , it out of your head once for uld not let you have afarth- 35 just nowâ€"even supposing it were ’ r of life or deathâ€"being as , . [well can be; my usual .leition by the bye. Look here, ' arrington calls while I , . him up to the square gem, will you, where I am going about those partridges,’ Come, Belle, Gallant, g9; up, you lazy hrutesl” disturbing will his foot. as he finished speaking, we magnificent pointers as they lay dozing beside his chair. The coolness of the refusal, knowing ‘5 she did. how idly and selfishly her. [ather’s money was spent, together wizh this whole hearing, roused Miss Blcun't's quick temper beyond control. “It would be better for! you to give up your hunters and dogs, and dress ytur daughter properly, than to go on living beyond your means in the dis- honorable way you are now doing!” sh» cried, passionately; 'heir. fine eyes flushing. nea =lstently. fa .w Love for his beautiful .Chlld _w:i:m-:d or brightened the Stagn- levlings of th7s breast; she . ‘Yas E~before his eyes â€" the 11v1§18 re of her dead mothefl but to him ”its li:tle more than an incum- 39. 1h} umxished-for consequence reg:e:ted marriage. . has small wonder that the 3“] gt'. under the circumstances». pay Ltzle outward respect to his “Shes JIllzriarids, though in her ianSt i there lay hidden for him a last- me, far stronger than even She alt believed could POSSibly haye ed .for the father who held her '9' ,Shght estimation, and spent .13” In racing or betting. 01‘ gamblmg Fthe small income -â€" a remnant 0‘ 18 once princely fortuneâ€"that guf- ‘tO keep them from utter destitu- Uvzuvcuu-o $3? sympathy. “Oh, that ever-i 5,, ball of the 'l‘auntons, ed? ‘Vellu ¢° “ore it could not be, you, at should be sufficient“: ' ' ’s tattoo on the window.; 'wm you, unless you want to giveg headaChe wi'h your restlessness!". y: why cannot I go?” the girl; gistvntly, facing the enemy ; more as she spoke. “I don’t very. ..;1: vou for money, as you must ’r 1119 reverse, and but for Bar-- ‘rtel‘is would. in all probability, S§essed no female friend. finer, Archibald Blount -â€" was £141}. and selfish to the heart 8 a!" LUA.’ -â€"â€" re 1211 hurried bitLer- dc to the window 1: “hit are you complain.- Kate?” dem: inded the per. sed, raising his head abq from the paper he ,Was th hz' farâ€"away look in {La-h most 1380916 acquire thuughts are in the clouds is, of all expressions, the marina: to those on the 1:: of a paltry tenâ€" ,us: stay away from ever cared to go to!" Bount, indignantly, 513' I think it hardâ€" 1h in most girls of my con ~1uding her slight- ‘ ‘.J__-_‘ She was a neglected flower, a tender creature growing up unheeded and un~ loved at least by him who ought to have been her chief counselor, but who, if ever he bestowed a thought upon her, dreamed only of the time when her marvelous beauty should procure \her a wealthy suitor, and so bring him the only thing he really cared forâ€"money. Small wonder was it, either, if Kather- v-“v- vv “u Ly, ULLHUL’ 1L “GLHCL- ine herself discovered early an in- tense longing for money, for the weal- thy freedom that should at all hazards release her from the influence of povJ erty and its attendant curses. Leaning back now, with her. head against the woodwork of the window, she almost swore to herself that no love dreams should come between her and her hopes of earthly riches; and as she thought with bitter earnestness, her reverie was suddenly broken in upon by the entrance of a young man of about four-and-twenty, who, com- ing over to the window, sank lazily into a chair directly opposite to her. For a moment he gazed wonderingly at the girl’s half-averted, sorrowful face, whereon the recent tears had left their silent traces, after which scru-o tiny he inquired, without any very great regard to the selection of his language: 5 . \ “What’s up " . “For goodness' sake why can’t you speak proper English?” Miss Blount asked, pettishiy, glancing swiftly round from the window as she spoke. “VVhat’s upâ€"now how amI to understand what you meam by that,”â€"with a short laughâ€""you mean my temper? That is "up to all intents and pur- POSes, I allow you. Did you mean it ?” “No. my dear, I did not,” the young man answered, calmly; “I am only anxious to learn what it is that has grieved You during my absence. Will you tell me 2” “\Vhat is the use ?” Miss B'ount inquired, still with the sense of injury full upon her. “You cannot help me. and most probably if I told you my grievance, would only consider me silly. .All men consider a girl frivol- ous if she happens to wish for a lit- tle more than the common necessaries of life." "There is an» exception to every rule, so put me out of that list,” .her companion answered, getting up' from his seat andnmssessing himself of one of the little nervous hands that for the Past few minutes had been en- deavoring most laudably to work a hole in the handkerchief they hold. “I do not belong. to ‘it, as I‘ycould hard.- ly think you! frivolous; even if I tried. orâ€"or anything else. unpleasant, I fancy ; so tell me your misfortune, and let me assist you! if I can.” “Well, it is all sbout the Tauntons ball, ” the girl murmured, soltened b} his evident sympathy, and reddening furiously the while, but refusing. crimson, nevertheless, to remove her eyes from his. "I cannot go because I have no dress nice enough and papa will not give me a new oneâ€"that IS all; so now confess at once that you think me ridiculous and have done with.- it. ” "Poor little thing l” was all the other said, but his eyes wandered out to the glowing garden. whither his thoughts followed, running riot among the flowers, as he‘ concocted all sorts of schemes for the express purpose of gratifying Katherine 3 last whim. Of course she should have a dress. but who would choose. it for him, and, when chosen, how should he persuade ed her to accept it? And then he wondered what color would be most becoming to the perplexed little beauty at his side; after which he got puz- zled. and fell to wondering about many other things as Quixotic as they were agreeable. Miss 'Biount. who was watching his countenance with furtive anxiety. guessed quite correctly all the ideas that were tormenting: him, and was immensely amused accordingly: ’ 9 -1... LmLHquvn -â€"â€"_'v ._ -l “It is of no use, B'ackwood,” she saidâ€"“you cannot help me. Give it up, dear boy, and I dare say presently I shall be reconciled to my fate; “but ’ â€"-.and here the softness vanished, the old hard look taking its place “I swear that, if I can avoid! it, I will not end my days in. this kind of poverty. I shall marry riches or not at all.” Be dropped her hand hurriedly, alâ€" most rudely, and turned away. “Money does not’ always mean hapâ€" piness,” he said. “But poverty is always unhappiâ€" ness." sne retorted, quickly. “‘Tita,” he reasoned, after a mo- ments pauseâ€"she generally went by the name of “Tita”â€"â€"short for Tit- aniaâ€"with her two most intimate friends, on account of her fairy-like proportionsâ€"“Tim, do not. place too much dependence upon riches they will fail you in the end, my dearest â€"believe me, they willâ€"whereas love that never dies. and a :bare sufficiency, will carry you through all difficulties. ' “ - ° -_l-_.., on aim “ind half "As for instance ?" she asked, nan mockingly. But, whatever his sentiments on the subject of that much-discussed topic, “a sufficiency,” might be, she was never doomed to hear them. as at this junction the door was once more opened slowly, to admit Archibald BTount. He advanced in his usual well-bred manner until he had reached the table, whereon he deposited a piece of crumpled paper. "I have changed my mind, Kathe- rine.” he said. "Here is a ten-pound note for you; so you can go to this much-coveted ball it: you wish.” -_.'I nth-u. Dlnl1nf O]- Ul‘umylcu y“:’\lb . “I have changed my mind, Kathe- rine,” he said. “Here is a ten-pound note for you; so you can go to this much-coveted- ball if you: wish.” "Oh, papa,” exclaimed Miss Blount, regretting bitterly now all the hasty words and thoughts she, had been in- dulging in, "forgive; me! I do not de- serve your kindnesS. I know, after what I said to you. a few moments ago; but, believe me, I am very grateful to 3'0‘11? Yet still she did not move forward to kiss him as perhaps a more beloved daughter would have done. “Do not distress yourself, my dear," she asked, half “Not as happy as I might be,” she' answered, glancing back into the face above her ownâ€"as brave, kindly, and true a face as awoman need. care to; seeâ€"“not as happy as most of the girls I know. ;Do you know, at times, I' am even miserably discontented with: my lot? But there,â€"it is my portion in; this life to have trouble. I suppose, so I dare say by and by Ishall get used to it." “Katherine,” said Blackwood, wist- fully, “my darling, I cannot bear to; hear your talk like this. I wish to, Heaven I had it in my power now to shield you from every grief and pain;% but at present what can I do? Per-g haps afterward â€" in timeâ€"if you will: wait a littleâ€"-” 3 inflection of sarcasm in his voice. “I am so well accustomed to your nu- merous little tender speeches that they cease to embarrass ‘me long ere this,” and so saying, he went out, closing the uoor carefully behind him. “I have wronged him,” Miss B‘ount said, with extreme compunction, when she was again alone with her cousin. "I have wronged him greatly both in word and thought; but that is just like me, is it notâ€"so ready to judge. so quick to condemn. and never hesi- tatiqg a moment; to think before I Speak? Ah, if I could only change my nature in some things, I do be- lieve in the end I might learn to be happy!" "And are yom not happy now. Tita?’ Blackwood asked. gazing down with unspeakable tenderness upon the dis- consolate little person beside him. who. with folded hands and moistened eyes. looked blankly out of the window, and as he spoke he took her chin between his hands. so turning her face towards him. ‘ “Hush!” Miss Blount interrupted him quickly, eagerly, laying her hand with unconscious vehemence upon his arm, while a spasm of intense pain shot across her face. “Hush, Black- wood â€" you must not speak to me like that! I will not have it; You are my cousinâ€" my brotherâ€"the dearest a girl could have, but nothing more, never anything more.” The exbressiBn of Blackwood’s eyes changed. “Do not pretend to make any mis- take," he said, almost sternly, un-a loosening her fingers from her arm, and holding them firmly between his own. “You know as well as I do that for everything the world contains, I would not be your brother. You know also that I will be to you all or! noth- mg.” "‘It must be nothing, then,” the girl answered, very sadly, though firmly, but not daring this time to raise her eyes to his; after which. she walked away slowly to the door without an-! oher word. Arrived there, however, she lingered â€" woman-like â€" with the handle in her hand, to see if he: would not make some answer to her last cruel speech; but she waited in: vain. Blvackwood made no reply; and, glan'ing involuntarily toward the win- dow, to where the autumn sun was gleaming brightly upon his upright figure, she could see that the dark handsome, loyal face was white to the very lips. Blackwood Craven was Miss Blount’s first cousin, as far as relationship went, but in reality he; had ever been far more to‘ her than that term gener- ally signifies; in her babyhoodi he had been her companion, in her girlhood a brother, and ever since she had reach- ed the age of seventeen â€" now three years since â€"* her steady and constant lover. . .n The Life Is one of Real Peru and Veryi Pum- lfayâ€"Descrlptlon of the Open; mlons Written by an Old Time Seal Fisher. ‘ About 200 miles to the northeast of St. Johns, the capital of Newfound- land, are the twin islands of Twillin- gate, or Toulinguet, as the French named them. These islands are con- nected by a suspension bridge of no mean dimensions, and are inhabited by a population of nearly 5,000 souls, though on entering the harbour it would hardly seem so, the! greater number of fishermen‘s cottages being hid away in the various coves and bays that surrounded the islands. Lying at the mouth of Notre Dame Bay, Iwillingate may be said to be the cen- ter of the Newfoundland seal fisheries. The North Atlantic seal is caught for the sake of its oil, rather than for. its skin, though the latter is dressed and placed upon the market as an inferior grade of the genuine article. Thousands of these seals are caught each spring within a radius of 20 miles of Twillin- gate, and are a prolific source of com- merce with the merchants, each mer- chant of the townâ€"of whom there are some half dozen â€" having his own line UAPTURE OF THE SEALS. GRAPHIC SCENES OFF NOWFOUND- LAND’S ICE-BOUND COAST. of ocean vessels, which carry fish, oil, skins. c., to England in the spring, re- turning in the fall with merchandise of all kinds. Toward the end of February or early in March, so soon as the sun attains some degree of heat, a keen lookout is kept for the approach of the first school of seals. The North Islands runs up into a point; -Pl‘otruding for nearly a mile into the sea, on which is located the Government light-house, and this is the favorite starting point of the seal fishers. Immediately the runs up inI nearly a 111 located fin and this is of the seal BEGIN IN FEBRUARY. To be Continued. first seals have been sighted all is Ebustle and activity. Shortly after mid- Enlght hundreds of dark forms may be seen wending their way to lighthouse Point. Each one carries a gaff, or Elong pole with an iron end sharpened ito a point, with apointed hook on the Eside; a rope of some 15 or 20 yards is Eooiled around the shoulders, and a gunny bag, containing a mixture of dry oatmeal and sugar, is fastened to the waist. This is all the sustenance Ethat the man receives until his return, {an hour when one by, one the seal :heads protrude, the bodies roll lazily onto the ice, and, creeping further from lthe rift, they lay themselves out for a {snooze in the warm sunshine. This is ;the fisherman’s opportunity. Stealing gup cautiously behind the seal,he strikes 'it a severe blow on the head with his gaff, and when satisfied) that it is stunned proceeds to cut its throat, and gafter it has bled to death the work. of i“pe1ting ” or taking the skin from the seal, begins. The knife is drawn laround the neck and down the center {of the front to the tail, and the skin is drawn off as in skinning a rabbit, g'l‘he skin is not taken' from the head. ’Having completed his task, the pelt is imade fast to the end of the rope». and the fisherman patiently awaits his next i victim. the oatmeal satisfying the hunger. while the sugar serves to allay the ter- rible thirst engendered by walking on saltwater ice. On reaching “The Point" each man strikes out for him- self, scattering in every direction, the main object being to get to a crack or rift in the ice as soon as possible. Great precaution has to be taken, “ however, that one does not get into a “floating pan.” which might carry him out to sea and to death. i \VITH THE EARLY DAWN. Shortly before sunrise fully 5,000 men and boys can be seen dotting the ice as far as the eye can reach, all anxiously awaiting the rising sun. For by this time every man has found\ a suitable waiting place, beside a rift in the ice, proctecting himself from observation of. the seals by; piling snow or raising a small canvas sail, beside which he crouches. The sun has not been up Shortly before noon the fisherman begins to get ready for home, knowing that the seal will never come up out of the water after the decline of the sun. Gathering his pelts together, he fast- ens them at one end of his rope, and making a large loop at the other end, he passes it over his shoulder and over the ice. If he has been lucky1 his starts homeward, dragging the skins load is no light one, but he p-lods cheerfully on to Lighthouse Point, whence he started out in the morning. But sometimes a bitter disappointment) awaits him, for when within a few yards of land he has to drop his';].ine and leap for dear life to prevent him- self being carried out to sea on the fast floating ice. This does not often hap- pen, though toward the end of the season, when the ice begins to break up, it is of commo occurrence. 3 ; A LIVEL SCENE. 0n reaching L'ghthouse Point there is a scene of bustle and activity. Near- ly every housewife for 'miles around is on hand with’ baskets of food and pots of steaming hot coffee, waiting for husband, father, son or brother, to come in with his “string.” It looks like an immense picnic party, scattered along the shore and all over the Point, The‘ poor stranger, however, who has come many miles to test his luck, has no one to meet him, and tired and hungry and thirsty, he can beg in vain for refreshment, offering sometimes a dollar for a cup‘ of coffee, but the woâ€" man dare not give it, knowing that what she has 'is none too much for her own worn-out husband. After par- taking of a hearty meal, the fisherman resumes his load and makes for the merchant’s store, where he has an “ac- count” and “turns in’ his string after considerable. dickering as to the quali- ty and value of his catch. This having been satisfactorily arranged, he is given his credit check, and then makes a bee line for home to secure a few hours sleep before again starting out at midnight for another daily round.” DEADLY CREDIT SYSTEM. In Newfoundland, as elsewhere, the credit system is the bane of the poor fisherman’s lives. During the long, cold winter months, they draw on their “ac- count” at the store, and from early spring till late in the fall they toil and slave to even up, and if they get afew dollars over they are in wonderful luck. The merchants own three fourths of the population. ’ The fishing schooners and little skiffs are all the property of the merchant, who charges what he will for his merchandise, and puts his own price on the fisherman’s seals and codfish and woe be to him who is known to make purchases from some other merchant. A PATHETIC SCENE. One poor fisherman, who had met with considerable sickness and misfor- tune in his family, on the appearance of a school of seals, had: gone to his merchant, where his account had been getting larger and larger, and beg- ged a pair of shoes and a suit of. warm underwear, that he might en-c gage in the next day’s catch, but was refused and told that as as soon as he landed with his string they would be taken from him. Having no credit with the other merchants, but still anxious to wipe out the existing debt, be wrapped himself up as warm as he could and started out at midnight. He had gone but a few miles out on the ice, when he fell benumbed, and no one passing his way for several hours, he was discovered at last by returning fishermen, frozen stiff. They carried him between them to the Point; thence to his lowly hut, andi his funeral two days afterward was'largely attended by the poor: fisher folk, who poured anathemas loud and deep on the head of the cause of his enforced martyr- domâ€"a martyr to his familyâ€"a victim of a cruel. crushing system. READY FOR HOME. Subtect to henna: Wu, Wu P.1d end [simulated and Grow 30 Ill Bho‘ Could lately Welt. From the Tribune, Welland, Ont. ! ' Miss Hattie Archer, of \VellamL an esrimable young lady, whose acquaint» ance extended amcng a large numberot citizensoi the town, has the following to say regarding the virtues of Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People: -â€" In the fall of 1897 Iwas taken very ill, THE CONDITION OF A YOUNG LADY OF WELLAND. I was nervous. weak and debilitated. At this time the least exertion oaused great fatigue. My appetite was poor and Iwas attacked with frequent sick headaches. I gradually grew worse until I was so weak I could barely. walk through the house. I was very, pale and emaciated and finally became entirely incapacitated. Various me- dicines were resorted to but gave no relief. Later I was treated by two of the best physicians of the towh. One said my blrood_ ‘was 900; 111131 watery. I followed his advice for some time but did not improve. Then the second doctor was called and he- said he could help me, but after thoroughly testing his medicmes without benefit, 1. gave amp, and de- spaired of ever getti-n well. My grand- mother- had been reaging at that time mucth about Dr. \Villiams' Pink Pills and persuaded me to try them. That was about January, 1898. From the first the results were really marvel- lous, being far beyond my friends’ ea- .peo'tati-ons. After taking five boxes I can stand more fatigue than I could for two years. I have gained weight splendidly; can take my food with a. delightful relish, and again feel cheer- ful, healthy and strong. II would further: say that the change 18 wholly due 'to‘ Dr. \Villiams’ Pink Pills. I hope that my testimony will prove beneficial to other girls similarly af- flicted. The experience of years has proved that there is absolutely no disease due to! a vitiated. condition of the blood on shattered nerves, that Dr. \Villiams’ Pink Pillsl will not promptly cure, and those who are suffering from such troubles would avoid much misery and save money by promptly resorting to this treatment. Get rthe genuine Pink Pills every, time and do not be persuad- ed to take an imitation, or some other remedy from a dealer, who for the sake of extra profit to himself, may say is “ just as good.” Dr. \Villiams Pink Pills cure when other medicines fail. - A Men of Genius and Lemming at the [Mn uer 'l‘abfe.. 'I‘he're probably never was a table at which the standard of talk was higher than that around which sat Burk, Doctor Johnson, Goldsmith, Garrick, and other men of genius and learning. The host, Sir Joshua Reynolds, the artist, cared little for the cookery or the dishes or the service. There was, to quote the account of one who was often a guest, "a coarse, inelegant plenty, without any regard to order and arrangement. A table prepared for seven or eight was often compelled to have about it fifteen or sixteen guests. When this pressing difficulty was overcome, a deficiency. of. knives and forks, plates and glasse- succeeded. The attendance was in the same style.” Sir J oshu-a never minded what he ate or drank, and never recommended the fish or venison. He left every guest to scramble for himself. But he was attentive to what was said by any one of the motley group, composed of peers, bishops, physicians, lawyers, actors, musicians, men of letters and mem- bers of Parliament. The singularity of the service and the disorderly ar. rangement of the t-lb16 served to en- hance the hilarity of the guests. Even Doctor Johnson, who appreciated 9 good dinner, came there for a good talk rather than for what he might eat. and drink. , - Miss Willing â€" No,. indeed! Only yesterday I remarked to mamm'a that I was getting awfully tired of being called min. . , g At four o’clock precisely dinner was served, whether two or three lords had arrived or not. But during those fes- tive hours all the guests were all peers, and were as disputatious and vehement in argument as lawyers in a trial. An anecdote, related by Northcote, the artist, who was a pupil of Sir Joshua, shows how turbulent the gueSLs ofter were. Dunning, the elo- quent, and witty 1am yer, happened one day to_ _be the_ first guest to_ arrive. ONLY A QUESTION OF TIME WITH “Well, Sir Joshua,” he asked; “and whom have you got to dine with you to-day? The last time I dined at your house. the_ agsembly w.as 'of such Mr. Singleton â€" Miss Willingâ€"erâ€" Nellie â€" you don't mind if I drop the miss and call you Nelliq, do you? _-- -- A C Weak and Nervous. a sort that I believe all the rest at the world were at peace for that at- be-rnoon.” Wifeâ€"Dear me! How are we ever to get through thus crowd? ‘We’ll miss the train. W'Hlisbandâ€"Raise your umbrella and walk ahead. I'll follow. Hibbsâ€"See that striking-looking girl there? She marrzed milliqgs. 'fHobbsâ€"W'ho’s the insignificant-look. mg fellow: fvigh Ahelx: ? DISORDERLY BUT MEMORABLE. fiiiibéâ€"Oh, hé's the man she married. A POWERFUL MOTOR. AN INCIDENTAL.

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