Delphos Daily Herald from Delphos, Ohio • Page 3

MISS BRAODON CHAPTER X-- Continued, "The river," thought Constance, white with horror: "the ruins are only a little way from the river." She ran along the romantic pathway which followed the river hank for about half a mile, and there ascended the steep hill on the slope of which stood the battered old shell which had once been a feudal castle, with dungeons beneath its stately halls, and a deep and sacred well-for the safe putting away of t-oublesome enemies. Very peaceful looked the old ruins on this balmy September day, in mellow afternoon sunshine, solitary, silent, deserted. There was no trace of nurse or child in the grassy court or on the crumbling old rampart Yes, just where the ramport looked down upon the river, just at that point where the short, submerged grass sloped deepest, Constance Sinclair found a token of her child's piesenca-- a toy dog, white, fleecy, and deliciously untrue to nature-- an animal whose shapeless beauty had been the baby Christabel's delight. Constance gave a little cry of joy. "They have been here, they are somewhere near," she thought, and then, suddenly, in the sweet summer stillness the peril of this particular spot struck her that steep descent -the sunburned sward, elippery as glass the deep, swift current below -the utter loneliness of the scene no help at hand.

"Oh. God!" sne cried, "the river, the river!" She looked round her with wild beseeching' eyes, as if she would have asked aJl nature to help her in this great agonj Thsre was no one within sight. The nearest housa was a cottage on the bank of the river, about a hundred yards from the bottom of the slope. Ananow foot-path at the other end of the rampart led to the bank, and by this path Constance hurried down to make inquiries at the cottage. The door was standing open, and there was a noise of several voices within.

Some one was lying on a bed in a corner, and a group of peasant women were round hsr ejaculating compassionately. "Das anne madchen. Ach, Himmel! Was gibt es?" and a good deal more of a spasmodic and sympathetic nature. A woman's garments, dripping wet, were banging in front of the stove, be- wblcb. an elderly It WM Melanie who lay there wrapped in a blanket, sobbing hysterically.

"Melanie, where is my child?" The girl shrieked and turned her face to the wall. "She risked her life to save it, said the man in German. "The current, is Very rapid under the old Schloss. She plunged" in after the baby. I found her in the water, clinging to the branch of a willow.

If I had been a little later she would have been drowned." "And the child-- my child?" "Ach, mein Gott." exclaimed the man, with a "No one has seen the poor child. No one knows." "My child is drowned:" "Lieba Frail, "said one of the woman, 'the current is strong. The little one was at play en the rampart. Its foot slipped, and it rolled down the hill into the water. This good girl ran down after it, and jumped Into the water.

My husband found her there. She tried to save the child; she could do no more. But the current was too Dear lady, be comforted. The good God will help you." "No. Gcfi is cruel, "ciied Constance.

"I will never ssa Him or believe in Him any more. And with this blasphemy wrung from her heart, a great wave of blood seemed to rush over Constance Sinclair brain, and she fell senseless on the stone floor. CHAPTER XL GETTISO OVER IT Baby Christabel was drowned. Of that fact there could not be a shadow of doubt in the minds of those who had 'loved her, although the sullen stream which had swallowed her lovely form refused to give it back. Perhaps the lorelels had taken her for their playfellow, and transformed her mortal beauty into something rich and strange.

Anyhow, the nets that dragged the river did not brinjr up the golden hair, or the sad drowned eyes that once danced with joyous life. And if anything could add to Constance Sinclair grief it was this last drop of bitterness--the knowledge that her child would never rest in hallowed ground, that there was no quiet grave on which to lay her aching bead and feel nearer her darling, no spot of earth to which ehe could press her lips and fancy she could be heard by the little one lying in her pure shroud below, asleep on Mother Earth's calm breast. No, her little one was driven by winds and wares, and had no resting- place under the weary stars. Melanie Duport, when she recovered from the horror of that one dreadful day, told her st ry clearly enough. It was tbe same s'ory she had told the peasant woman whose hreband rescued her.

Bab Chnstahel was playing on the rampart, Melanie holding her securely, she believed, when the little one. attracted ny th flightof a butterfly, made a Bidden spring--alas' ma- dame krew not how strong aid active tho dear ajjel and how difficult it was to tnes--and slipped o.tof Mclaiiie'i arms on to thenun- vart--winch wa-sien low jurt there, midaroe nrpM have observed--on to the grass, and rolled and rolled down the river. It all quick as tho ght: one moment and the angel's white frock was float ing on tbe stream Melanie down. knew not it was as If heaven had sr yen her wings' in that moment. The white froctt still floating.

Me'anla plunged into' the river: ah! but whit was her life at such a timer--a nothinz. Alas! sbe tried to grasp the rook, the stream it from her. ao instant and OBS iFWSPAPFRI saw It 110 more. She felt herself sink ing, and then who fainted. She kuew nothing until she woko in the cottage where madame found her.

Melanie was a heroine in a binall way after this tad event. The villagers thought her a wonderful person. Her nm-ter rewarded her handsomely, and promised to retain her in his service till she should choose to" marry. Her mistier WUB as grataful as despair can be for any service. The light of Constance Sinclair's life was gone.

Her one icurceof joy was turned to a fountain of bitterness. A dull and b'auk despair took possession of her. She did not succumb utterly to her grief. She struggled against it bravely, and nhe would accept no one's compassion cr sympathy. One of her married sisters, a comfortable matron with half a dozen healthy children in her nursery, offered to come and stay with Mrs.

Sinclair; but this kindly offer was refused almost uncivilly. "What good could you do Constance, "If you spoke ti me of my darling I should hate you. yet I should always be thinking of her. Do you suppose you comfort me by telling me about your herd of children, or by repeating bits of Scripture, such as people quote in letters of condolence 9 there is no such thing as comfort for my grie I like to sit al ne and think of my pet, and be wretched in my own way. Dcn't be angry with me, dear, for writing so eavagely.

I sometimes feel as if 1 hated everyone in the world, but happy mothers most of all." Gilbert Sinclair endured the loss of his little girl with a certain amount of philosophy. In the first place she was not a boy, and had offended him ab initio by that demerit. She had a pretty little darling, no doubt, and he had had his moments of fondness for her; but his wife's idolatry of the child was an offense that had rankled deep. Be had been jealous of his infant daughter. He put on mourning and expressed himself deeply afflicted, but his burden did not press heavily.

A boy would come, perhaps, by and by, and make amends for this present loss, and Constance would begin her baby worship again. Mr. Sinclair did not know that for some hearts is no beginning again. Martha Brigffs recovered health and strength, but her grief for the lost baby was genuine and unmistakable. Constance offered to keep her in her service but this or Martha dec ined with tears.

"No, ma'im, it best for both that we shou'd part. I should, remind you a burst of sobs supplied the missing you'd remind me. I'll go nome. I'm more grateful than words can say for all your goodness; but, oh, I hate mysslf eo for being ill. I never, nerer, shall forgive myself-never." So Martha went back to Davenant in her mistress' train, and there parted with hoi to return to the parental roof, which was not very far off.

It was not so with Melanie. She only clung to her mistress more devotedly after the loss of the baby. If her dear lady would but let her remain with her as her own maid, she would be beyond measure happy. Was not hairdressing the art in which she most delighted, and millinery the natural bent Bilberi 'an aspiring butler, consented to keep Melanie as her personal attendant. She did this, believing with Gilbert that the girl deserved recompense; but Melanie's presence was full of painful associations, and kept tbe bitter memory of her lost child continually before her.

Constance went back to Davenant, and life flowed on in its sullen course somehow without Baby ChristabeL The two rooms that had been nurseries --two of the prettiest rooms in the big house, with French windows and a wide balcony, with a flight of steps leading down to the quaintest old garden, shut in from the rest of the grounds by a holly hedge--now became temples dedicate i to the lost. But the business of life still went on, and there was a great deal of time she could not call her own. Gilbert, having dismissed the memory of his lost child to the limbo of unpleasant recollections, resented his wife's brooding grief as a personal injury, and was determined to give that sullen sorrow no indulgence. When the hunting season was at its best and pheasant shooting made one of the attractions of Davenant, Mr. Sinclair determined to fill bis house with his own particular set horsy men--men who gave their minds to guns and dogs, and rarely opened their mouths for speech except to relate an anecdote about an accomplished setter, or pointer of mine, you know," or to dilate upon the noble behavior of "that central fire Lancaster of mine," in yesterday's who devoted their nights an 1 days to billiards, and whose conversation was of breaks and flukes, pockets and cannons.

"You'd better ask some women, Gilbert, one Sunday morning in November, as they sat at their tete-a-tete breakfast, the wife reading her budget of letters, the husband with the "F.eid" propped up in front of coffee-cup, the "Sport- Ing Gazette" at elbow. "I've got a lot of coming next week, and you might feel de trop in a masculine pa 'Have you a ked people, Gilbert, so soon?" Constance, reproachfully. "I don't know what yon call The are as wild as they can be, and Lord Highovcr a have been out nearly a month. You'd better ask some nice young women--the right sort, you know: no nonsense about them." "I thought we should have spent this winter quietly, said Constance, in a low voice, looking down at her black with its deep folds of crape: "just this one winter. "Thats sheer sentimentalitv." exclaimed Giibcrt, giving the ao Impatient twist as ho folded it to get at his favorite cotamn.

"What good woi'M it do on ra a shut oun-el up in dismal old Hke a pair of superannuated Would it bring back the poor little thing we've lost, or make her happier in Paradise? No. Constance. Shes happy. 'Nothing can touch her more, Milton, or somebody. says.

Egad. I think the poor little darlin? is to be nvjed for having escaped al! the and worries of life: for li'e at best is a bad book; you can't hedge eve 7 thing. Don cry, Constance. That Irng face of vours is enough to send a fellow into an untimely grave. Let us get a lot of pleasant people rounl and make the most of this place while it's oars.

We maynl have it always" i The sinister remark fell upon an unheeded ear. Constance Sine air'a thoughts bad wandered far away from that oak-paneled breakfast-room. They ha i one back to sunny hillside, fMMjr rampart, the swift and fetal river, the bright landscape which had t-tmped Itself upon her memory indelibly, in the one agonized moment in which the hud divined her darling's fate. "Gilbert. I really am not fit to receive people," Hhe said, aMor a silence of some minutes, during which Mr.

Sinclair had amused himself by sundry a'l venturous dips of his fork, like an old Jewish priest's divo into the sacred seething-pot, into the crockery case of a Perlgord pie. "If you have set your heart upon having friends this winter you hact bettor let me go away, to or somewhere. It would be a pleasure for you to be free from the bight of my unhappiness." "Yea. aid fo you to find consolation elsewhere, no doubt. You would pretty soon find a consjler if I eave you your liboity." "Gilbert!" "Oh, don't think to frighten me with your indignant looks.

1 have not forgotten the scene in this rcom when you heard your old lover's supposed death. Sir Cyprian Davenant is in London, in high feather, too, I understand: for some ancient ro'ation of his has been obliging enough to die and leave him another fortune. A pity ou did not wait a little longer, isn't it? A pity your father should have been in such a hurry to make his last matrimonial bargain." "Gilbert!" cried Constance, passionately, "what have I ever done that you should dare to talk to me like this? How have I ever failed in niy duty to you?" "Shall I tell you? I won't say that, having accepted me for your husband, you ought to have loved me. that would be asking too much. The ethics of the nineteenth century don't soar so high as that.

But you might have pretended to care for me just a little, it would have been only civil and it would have made the wheels of life go smoother for both of is." "I am not capable of pretending, Gilbert," answered Constance, gravely. "If you would only be a little more considerate, and give me credit for being what I am, your true and dutiful wife, I might give jou as much affection as the most exacting husband could desire. I would. Gilbert," she cried, in a voice choked with sobs, "for the sake of our dead child." "Don't humbug," said Gilbert, sulkily. "We ought to understand each other by this time.

As for running away from this house, or any otaer house of mine, to mope in solitude, or to find consolation among old friends, please comprehend that if yva leave my house once you leave it forever. I shall expect to see you at the head of my table. I shall expect you to surround yourself ith pretty women. I shall expect ycu to be a wife that a fellow may be proud of." "I shall do my best to oblige you, Gilbert: but perhaps I might have been a better wife if you had let me take life my own way." BE CONTINUED. A MODERN HEROINE.

How Sbe Stopped a Driver's Brutal Treatment of a Moras. Sleighs drawn by four horses are employed oft the Wellington street route, says the Montreal Star. A heavily loaded sleigh was coming cityward. One of the horses next the vehicle fell. The driver lashed it with his whip.

Then he kicked it. Finally he swore at it. But he did not get down to extricate the animal from the harness, which held it a prisoner. The men in the s'eigh bur'ed their chins in their overcoats and indulged the contemplation of to the driver, said to him In" an "imperative way: "Give ms that whip." The driver was dazed. In a stupefied way he handed over the whip.

"Now," said the little lady, "if you touch that horse again I will let you feel the weight of this whip across your shoulders. Get down this moment and cut the harness and help the horse to rise." The driver stared at her. The women in the sleigh tittered, the men hung their heads. "Get down this moment," said tbe lady, shaking the whip over the driver. The latter mechanically obeyed.

The harness was loosened, the horse was raised to its feet. The lady put her hand in her sachel, brought forth some biscuits, and treated the four horses ti one each. The effect was magical. The hopeless cynicism of their poor faces gave place to hope, and love, and gratitude. Then the lady, very rhite, but as resolute as Joan of Arc ever was, entered the sleigb.

The men still nun? their heads Buying Babies with Postage Stamps. "Have you had many requests for the canceled postage stamps you receive?" asked a business man yesterday. "No? Well, that strange, for I have been besieged by boys and girls asking for them. At first I thought it was a revival of the old stamp collecting craze, but all the little ones seemed so earnest in their work that I questioned several. I was informed that the stamps were wanted to redeem Chinese babies.

You can imagine how such an assertion astonished me. Upon ui ther inquiry I was told that it was a habit in China to kill bable-, especially girls, and that these stamps were being gathered jy a religious order to send to that country. It is said that with the stamps the missionaries of that country aro able to redeem the condemned babies from death. You would be sur- at tha number cf children and men that are engaged in crlierting canceled stamps. I know of one little girl who turns over to the head of the order over 500 stamps a week.

Now. whether this is a fake. HKC st nu other st amp llec! in schemes that gained headway in the mntry, such as obtaining a cot in a hospital for st many stamps, I do not know. There is ao questioning the fact, however, thai a large number of peop are engaged in an honest effort to redeem Chinese babies by collecting Pittsburg Dispatch Then- Are Xo Chinese Nobody ever fees a deformed or crippled Chinaman. When deformed Chow is born he is promptly put out of the wor'd.

When an adult Chow is crippled he is peneraJlv put out of the world aUo. one save the ctbor Chow know- exactly how it is done. but the general is that he is persuaded tt hang himself or induced to fall into a wait-hole. anything seriona hap; en-- to a Mongol he generally kills shortly afterward. which probaUy means a rutaii'n of countrymen sit persuasively on his head tint 1 he is extinct Chinese are curious things and are often worth sra FREDERICK the English painter, is a man of pompous manner, with curly hair and a flowing beard, wid always wears a voluminous silk tie.

loosely knotted, the ends flawing nerbiy over his shoulders He is a pro- Found)? ornate speaker, Hut his periods, like his paintings, s-mell strongly of the lamp and the art students, whom he addresses with immense suavity once a year, find him a bit of a bore. THE arm A MADI by a Ifawkt MM Itoturnwl to Barnyard. Stole For a week or n4M an enormous hawk bad been well raids on tbe cblckcus of 1 Joseph Wll- whose bftfcwoods farm Is not far from Norwtafc) BUI, that to save what was left his flock he shut them up In bit UUtt the other day. When tbe hawk tailing along on bis regular visit that (far and dld not see the on usual, he circled around a few tt and tht-u lit on a dead limb near the top of tall tree not fur from tte barn, evidently to wait until the flatt that had been gupplylng him provender so long should some Into sight and fcelp him out for his dinner as usual. Farmer Wilson wus in his barnyard and saw the hawk.

"Oh, I kin laugh at yc now, consarn yer impldent said the farmer. "Don't see no more chickens 'round here, do ye? An' If only had a guu ye'd never see none 'round anybody else's clearin', neither!" A lazy and contented old sow lay in a sunny spot In the barnyard nursing her litter of month-old piss. The hawk sat on tbe dead limb ten minutes or more and then fteft up fend circled round and round owwr the farm, probably trying to spy the hiding place of the absent poultey. "Oh, ye kin loole dod-gastye!" ejaculated the fanner. "Ye kin look till yer blind for affl't'sare!" Then the well pleased at tho hawk's started for the house.

He had but a few steps when he heard a gnat snorting and squealing in the barnyard. He stopped and looked back. What he saw astounded him so that'he stood motionless. The hawk, evidently determined not to leave the farm without his dinner, had swooped down and seized one of the sow's litter pigs and was rising with it in his talons. The rest of the pigs had scampered in every direction, and the old Mw stood suorting, with bristles erect Although, owing to the weight and struggles of the squealing prey, the aawk rose slowly from the yard he had.

got away and disappeared amootf tbe trees before Farmer Wilson recovered his speech. Then all he could was: For at least a minute tho farmer gazed at the spot the hawk hail disappeared pig and then be went to the house. "Mother," said ne to his wife, "we han't got room In the barn for the pigs, an' the five an' the ole mare an' her colt, so tbe only thing we kin do is to build a roof over tbe hull dtirn clear- in'!" "Joseph," exclaimed the farmer's amazed wife, "Be you gone clean cracked?" "Xo, mother," replied the farmer, sitting down and toopplng his face with his handkerchief, "but I suet the chickens In thd barn so's that ding hawk couldn't git no more of them, an' now he comes along aii' begins on the pigs. I kin shit the pigs in the bam, but then there's the five sheep an' the cow an' the ol' mare an' her colt in tho yit I ton't git them all in the barn. It'll befllst like that devourlir hawk them as soon's finds tbaJttWiis to gone.

So I don't tiling else we do the farmer's wife. "After joa git yer done up an' them tipples gathered yon go over to Sim Slack's borry his gun. Then when that hawk conies to-morrow you jist lay fer him an' plug him. I told ye lone ago that there wa'n't no use o' tryln' to do around here without a So Farmer Wison went out and dfd his chores and started in en the apple gathering. By tbe time he got through It was along In the afternoon.

Then be started for Sim Slack's to borrow a gun. As be was passing the barnyard lie stopped to take a look at tbe family of pigs. "There was nine of he said sadly, an' now there's only eight!" Mechanically he counted tbe little pigs. Having counted them the farmer's eyes flew wide open. He counted them again.

"Nine, by the great horn spoon!" he exclaimed, and hurried back to the house. "Mother," said be, "I'd never a tbniik he'd a done it!" "Never thunk who'd a done It?" said the farmer's wife, looking a little scared. "The hawk!" replied the farmer. "Yon don't mean to tell me he's come and snatched another 'on?" exclaimed the wife excitedly. "No, mother," said the farmer.

He's fetched t'other an backr "Joe Wilson! Be you "Mother," said Farmer Wilson, interrupting bis good wife and turning ward tbe door, "come look an' see if I be." Tbe farmer's wife went along to the barnyard. Sure enough nine little pigs were there. Just as many as before the hawk carried one away. And that the one the hawk took was back In its place there could be no doubt, for one of the p'gs bad four ugly wounds in its back wbere tbe hawk's talons had sunk into and it was covered with blood, Still it was grunting away aa if nothing bad happened. "Well, mother," said Fanner Wilson, "beir But ail that tbe wife said fell deader'o a aa' I tun to what he bad been Bay, Joe, I 'was just about knocked flabbergasted when I see that It was a fat young pig! Tbe little feller looked a spell as If he dldn'fcknow jlst I whether he-orter be alive or dead, but ho made up bin inlnd that he was alive, an' be began to squeal as If be was 6 mouths old an' he was beln' stuck.

Ho was putty well cut tip by the bawk'i claws, an' the bleed was runuln' tor- able free, no I gathered him an' the laivk up and cut IVr homo with him as fast as I could. When I got there I sot the gritty little chap down In the yard till I could go in tho house aud make some warm soapsuds to give Lien a Leatln' washln'. When I come out agin he was gone. I sp'ose he wa'nt 'knowin' as he was tough, and cut fer Iconic hole or corner or other, where he'll up an' kick the bucket arter all. Say! The way you and Sally Ann is lookin' at one another, Joseph, I gueftn 'imebbe ye don't believe me! Burned If I blame ye, nutber!" But all that the farmer's wife said "Well, I vow to goodness!" "Mother," said Farmer Wilson, "didn't I tell ye I wouldn't a tunk he'd a done It an't the natur' o' Lawks!" Then the farmer told Slni Slack all about how the hawk had carried off one of their pigs, and how the pig, having reappeared mysteriously, they had the hawk had brought It bark.

that was the hawk that you Sim!" said the farmer. "An 1 that was our pig ye saved, an' we're obliged to ye! But who'd a thunk the little cuss'd a know'd enough to cut fer home?" "An" it shows Just what I told you long ago, Joe Wilson!" exclaimed tho farmer's wife, triumphantly. "There hain't no use o' tryin' to do farmln' around here without a gun!" Family Picture. Many a portrait painter might write Ian amusing if not an instructive book on the vanities and eccentricities of his 'sitters. A man once went to Copley, and ordered a family group of his wife and himself and seven children.

Wrn it was completed he appeared one day with a miniature in his hand. "There," said he, "the picture wants only one thing, and that is a protralt of my first wife. You can add it from this miniature." "But she Is dead," said the artist In amazement, "she could only come in as an angel of course." "Oh no, not at all," replied his patron, with decision. "She must come in as a woman." The portrait was adued, but some time elapsed before the man came to see Copley again. At last he appeared, with a strange lady upon his arm.

"I must have another cast of your hand, Copley," he said, cheerfully. "An accident befell my second wife, yery sad! This lady is my third, and she has come to have her portrait included the family picture." The portrait was painted, and the husband was much pleased. But his third spouse had evidently not been fully aware of the state of the case, and declared that her predecessors could not remain in the group. She would not hear of such a thing. "The picture would make her a laughingstock." Accordingly Copley obliterated the other two portraits, and then had to bring an action at law to obtain payment for the work he had painted out After Many Years.

He was too modest to be a successful lover, and he had let forty years of his life go by without ever coming to an emotional point He was in love with a fair being of suitable age, but he would not tell her so, and though she knew it she could not very well give him a tip on the situation. She was willing, because she had arrived at that time of life when a woman is not nearly so bard to please as she might have been at some other time, but he was stupid and went away without a word. He was gone a long, long time, and when he came back he found her still ready. "I have come back after many years," he said to her as he took her baud in greeting. She had learned something In tbe years since she bad seen him last "Well, for goodness sake, she exclaimed fervidly, "why don't you take them? I'm 35 now; how many more years do you want?" Then a great light shone upon him, and he did not wait for any more.

Promotion. "How's that boy o' yonrn gettin' along in the city, Josiah?" asked one fanner of another. "Fust-rate," answered Josiah. "He's workln' bis way up right along." "What's he doln'r "He's workln' fer the city." "You don't tell me! What's he doln' fer it?" "He's drivln' one them tblngs they call a street-sweeper-- kind o' wipes up the road nlgbts, yon know. Bat my! he's lein' promoted.

Fust off, he wus workin" in the twenty-fust ward. By 'n' by he writ me that be wus work- In' In tbe eighteenth ward. Last week ho writ that be was In tbe twelfth ward now; an' I swan! you see If that I feller don't fetch up In tbe fust ward with his sweep-cart A THIEF BY NATURE. In Whoever was: "Well, I vow to poodi heerd o' the likes o' thatr They took tbe mysteriously retained pig to tbe barn, washed It off and doctored it up and placed It In the littor. They were still talking about tbe marvelous occurrence at supper time, when iu came Sim Slack.

"Hullo. S-mT said Fanwr Wlfeon. got the thing to tell yc "Iwnt a pig thai ye hwrdr yc hain't (rot nuthin' quite sing'lar to tell about pig as I hcvr said Sim. "Beats anything ever heerd on! Don't seem to me as I kin believe it myoelf! I was standing on Col. Rill's creek runway long about noon, wailin' fer a deer to be fetched alone.

when I we a big hawk come sailin' over. I see that be was ctrryin' a toi'- able big load of snmpin', and thinfes. I'll rnn tbe rrxk o' akeerln' deer away, but what I'll bring that thievlD' cuss of a hawk down. So I whanged away an' be began to tumble. He snmmersetted aa' he sammer- wtted, but be hong on to what be bad till be got putty nigb to the fraud, then bis clutch let up aa' Mi load tumbled on to a heap o' tearei.

Tbe hawk At a Pinch. There was to be a wedding in a little country church, says Harper's Magazine. and the "contracting pair," wno bad many friends, were in doubt as to whether there would be room for thorn all. Accordingly tbe young man called upon the wxton. "How many will the church seat?" 1 be inquired.

The sexton was silent for minnto or two, evidently engaged In a mental calculation. "Wo'ell, ord'narilr," ho said, "it'll neat 'bont three hundred; but if sonvn with their hangin' over the or- i gan loft, I guess It'll seat three hundred I and ten." bttoral Harper's Bazar a story of a man 1 who believed in getting his ovoney's I worth. "This aint what I ordered." said a countryman at a tnonniain hotel, pointing to two slices of venison on bis plare i "Yon ordered venison," said waiter. "Yes, I did; bnt I ordered ban rich of venison. Just as tbe bill o' fare card bas it Them aint -no bannch; tbem'c aUces." to by It, A few years ago, while possessed of lonnidorable property, a once prosper- U8 business man WUB found guilty of ttealing a quantity of leather from a irin iu this city and sentenced to a term of imprisonment in the penitentiary.

When his time had expired, he wcured from friends a sum of money irid started iu a small way a shoe bus! that soon prospered. He established a credit with a wholesale firm, who knew ol' his criminal record, but believing that the severe experience he dad passed through would prove BO salutary lesson that ho would not wish to repeat it, treated him kindly ind offered him every opportunity to regain the position in the business world that he had lost. Their confidence proved to be misplaced, for one day he was seen to steal ia old, partly worn pair of shoes which lie could have bought for a quarter and Dn which he could have made but a small profit. He was allowed to carry them Irom the store and a letter was sent to him requesting him to call on toe firm, without giving him any information as to the nature of the busi- tiess. He anticipated it, however, for tvhen he entered the store he returned stolen shoes to the place from which he had taken them.

Without waiting for the member of the firm who had tent for him to introduce the subject the man began to apologize for what lie had done, insisting that it was all a mistake on his part, and that he had promptly returned the shoes when he had discovered that they were among his purchases. He was told that his theft was discovered at the time it was sommitted, and there could be no mistake about it, and he was a thief by nature and was not to be trusted under any circumstances. He was then ordered to leave the store never return, and cautioned that if ae was ever seen in there again he would be prosecuted for his theft. Strangely snough, instead of hurrying out as it was expected he would do, he entreated the members of the firm to allow him to deal with them, promising to lead an honest life and causing them no more trouble. This they positively refused to do, and he left the store in anything but a happy frame of mind.

Some time afterward it was discovered accidentally that he was a regular and profitable patron of the firm, buying his goods through a friend who concealed the identity of the person for whom he was acting. That he will again bring up in the penitentiary is the belief of the firm that befriended him. Boston Transcript. Religion of tbe 1'erslans. In Persia the population is mainly Aryan-Iranian-- with some infusion of Armenian, Jew, Turks, and Arabs and just as the Persian language has been infused with many Arab words, while retaining its own grammar and vocabulary derived from the ancient speech, so Islam has been engrafted on a people who have never quite forgotten their ancient national beliefs, and who have refused to abandon then earlier customs.

Among Persians of the middle class there are many devout Moslems, though then: beliefs are not those 01 the majority in Islam. The upper class is often openly infidel; and infidel literature, especially poetry, circulates unchecked, while European education of French origin, especially-- is diffused among the higher officials. The dervishes are disliked and despised, though treated with respect in public. The Mullahs or mosque scholars are reported to be hypocritical, and are very often skeptics at heart. The cruelties prepetrated in the name of justice are often barbarous in the extreme.

The Jews are persecuted. The dirty and drunken Americans of the Xorth are only protected by European influence. The Persians are a pleasure-loving people, and the morality of the town is bad. Intrigues are common among inairred women, and sect poisoning ie the result. Gambling and card-playing, though discountenanced by the respectable classes, are common as drinking, and even Mulelabs drink wine when it can be secretly obtained.

The persecution of the Babis was, perhaps, due mainly to their attempt on the life of the shah, but even descendants of the prophet were put to death and their property seized when they were known to be followers of Bab. But no punishment falls on such as profess philosophic sckpticism and the turban is often discarded by Persian Moslems in favor of the older national headdress, without reproof. are rife among the lower classes, and charms and amulets are worn to ward off the evil eye. Spells are sold against disease, and auguries are taken to the tomb of llaliz by the same people who strictly observe the great feast of Ramadan, ind who mourn the death of Hosein. The Friendly A (ierman lady told me that about four years ago a family of compatriots of hers rented a villa for tae season near Palermo.

All the elders were imperatively, and quite unexpectedly, uniniom-d home, but a convalescent "laughter could only leave the South at the risk of her life. What were these poor people to do? Eveir one id that the country "was so unsafe;" ife and property were "not respected at all." My friend's friends consulted neighbor who knew Sicily long and well, and they received this strange advice: 'Tail upon the brigands; say hat you confide in their honor; that faavc your villa and the young lady in their keeping all will Uitn be well-" And all was Night one or other of the dreaded rand would call to inquire after the lealth of the convalescent. Fresh flowers were on each occasion. A a while the brigands ang a wmiade. Judging it to have r-n appreciated, from time to time rr-pcatod their musical attention.

The girl fcH that these indeed tnnst be "the mildest -mannered that ever lit a throat-" Needless to lavs, the yen He brigands never troubled any non and never appropriated any rojiprty belonging lo that villa. When, two years later, the signorina was about to be married, her friendly outlaws sent her a pretty and valuable Gentleman's Magazine. LOVE is a gave at which botk play? always cheat, COST OF CHRI8TMA8. AMERICA SPENDS MORE THAN ANY OTHER COUNTRY. Presents.

Dinners antf Other Thlnga Totaled up, In All Abetrt $10,000,000. America spends inoro on than any oilier country. This, says Foster Coutes, was the gist of what veteran market man told me--a very Curroll I) Wright when came to statistics about game, provisions and the capacity of tlio American people to consume these and other things. What is more, ho figured out results that niade me open eyes, to say the least. I had no idea that the American people had such an appetite, even afc Christmas.

First he started in with turkeys, There being over 60,000,000 people in the United States, the number of families might be set down at near to 20,000,000. Allowing that one-half of these families had a turkey, the number would be 10,000,000 turkeys consumed--not an extravagant estimate. Some of these will be large, some small, but eight pounds per turkey will be a good enough average, and that makes 80,000,000 pounds of turkey, or more than a pound for each man, woman and child in the United States, providing it was all eaten at one meal, and not kept on hand and picked at for a couple of days. Ten cents a pound say, and good turkeys will bring more, and you see that the turkey will foot up $8,000,000. My informant said that turkey was the biggest item in the Christmas bill, for the reason that ttmeri- cans who do not care much for turkey eat it as a duty at Christmas time.

Of course, a good many eat chickens ind a great minority can afford game. The man of figures puts the outlay in this way down at $2,000,000, and said the figures were low. "Cranberries you want to figure on, too," said iny statistician, "and you're safe to figure on a pound for jach family. Some of them will a good many pounds and some of them none. Figure 'em at eight cents a pound." I did and footed up $1,600,000 as the cranberry outlay.

Verily figures were mounting up and I wondered low all this was to be accomplished the way of eating when money is high. "Then there's the mince pie," the tatistician went on. "Every one doesn't eat mince pie, but I'll venture anything that 10,000,000 of them will be baked They are not so popular in this city, but in the country districts they make shelves upon shelves of them. That's where the 10,000,000 come in. If you bought these pies in the city you would have to paj twenty cents and more apiece for them.

Made in a farmhouse, with cheap labor, put 'em down at say eight cents a pie, and you get $800,000 for mince pies. I figured on 10,000,000 trees at fifty cents and the bill for Christmas trees ran up to $.3,000.000 more. It looked too big. The tree merchant remarked that it was not and that this was a big country He went on to say that the other, greens, holly, ivy, mistletoe and all that sort of thing would foot up a million or two more. I put down $1,000,000 and gazed once more in awe at the swelling total of Christmas cost.

Christmas toys! To be sure they must not be forgotten. Ten million at least of little ones figured in this. The head of a mammoth toy house pondered when he was asked what the Christmas toy trade amounted to in the whole. 'Well, you might put it down at about a dollar a family on the average. Some spend $100 and some ten cents, so it is hard to estimate the amount of the total expenditure." I did not put the figure at a dollar a family.

I put it at fifty cents. It ooked more modest, and even at that I got a total of some $10,000,000. Next I saw some big dealers in jewelry and novelties, such as are in vogue as Christmas presents, and again the figures were astonishing. Putting the various estimates--the smallest ones at that--together, and then adding them. 1 could not get the total below $10.000,000.

Betrayed By Hia Chivalry. A bit of the seamy side of life showed itself one morning last week on a train going down into Virginia. The car was crowded. Just across the aisle were a bride and groom going over to see Alexandria, but destined for the next few days to see nothing but each other. Behind them were two giggling school girls, and in front of them sat a well-dressed young woman and her little girl, a beautiful little creature of 3 or 6.

The seat in front of me held two men. One was a tall, gaunt, tired-looking Georgian. with an indefinable air of authority about him. His companion. also a Southerner, was much tanned, and a ragged beanl hid the lower part of his face.

His soft felt hat was pulled down over his eyes, anu his hands were hidden by a long bundle, done up in which lay across his lap. When the train stopped at Alexandria, the bride and jroom, the school girls, and the mother ami child leave the car. As the little one passed the two a sudden jar of the train threw her down. The man in the slouch hat leaned forward suddenly, if to help her rise. The bundle fell from his lap.

were handcuffs on his wrists (Washington Tost a Great Horseflesh in has been considered a great delicacy for cento- The inhabitants, however, for the purposes of the kitchen, use almost arumaN of a small breed, little bigger than ponies, which have Uiin and hones, crow fat on little food. They aw fed tiu-jost entirelyon grass and "haj The meat is sold at comparatively low prices for this reason. Many farmers their almost exclusively to raising these horses for the York Tribune. The rfeht waate the whale..