The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on February 3, 1892 · Page 6
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The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 6

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Wednesday, February 3, 1892
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K1MJBLK2AN, AfWsf CHAHTKR XXlt A DAOOHTBR OP KVU. Bal bad vanished Into the house, . into a chair beside Madge, with a ,. < sigh. He was in riding dress, which Iwcunie hia stalwart figure welt, and looked feui/trkably handsome—but ill and worried. •• U nat oil earth were you asking that girl ftbout*" ne *m<l abruptly, taking his hat off, and nwmng ii and hfs gloves on tlia floor. Maitge Hushed crimson for a moment, and Ihwh uiKititf Brian's two strong hands in her C-wii, HH..UP.I steadily into his frowning face. •\Vnv iiout you trust nie<" she asked in « quifi Mine "lint it is not necessary that 1 should," b» toii»w»'!iii nuKxiily "The secret that Ro- eannti Moore told me on her deathbed la toothing that would benefit you to know." "is it tilKMit me«" sue persisted. "It is. ntid it is uot," he answered epigram- mati calls "J suppose that means that it is about a third person and concerns me," she said calmly, releasing hia hands. •'Well, yes," impatiently striking his boot with bis riding whip. "But it is nothing that ca D barm you as long as you do not know it, but (tod help you should any one tell it to you. tor it would embitter your life." "Wv life being so very sweet now," an- swewl Madge, with a light sneer. "You are trying to put out a ttre by pouring oil on it, aii'l what you say only makes me more determined to lean what it is." "Mmlge. I implore you not to persist in this foolish curiosity I tell you caudidly that I did leuj-n something from Rosanna Moore, and it concerns you, but only indirectly through a third person. But it would do no good to reveal it, and would ruin both our lives," She did not answer, but looked straight before ber into the glowing sunshine. Brian (ell on his kuees beside her, and Stretched out his bands with an entreating gesture "Ob. my darling," ho cried, sadly, "cannot yon trust mn< The love which bos stood such a test a.> yuui-a cannot fail like this. Let me bear the misery of knowing it alone, without blighting your young life with the knowledge ot it. 1 would tell you if 1 could, but, God help me, i cannot—1 cannot," and he buried bis face in his hands. Madge closed ber mouth firmly, and touched Uis comely head with her cool, •white lingers. There was a struggle going cn in ber breast between her feminine cariosity and ber love for the man at her ieet—the latter conquered, and she bowed tier head over his. "Brian," she whispered softly, "let it be as you wish, I will never again try to learn this ftecret, since you do not desire it." ' He arose to his feet, and caught her in his Strong ttruia, witb a glad smile. "My denrestl" bo said, kissing her passionately, and then for a few moments neither of them spoke, "We will begin a new u'fe," he '«aid, at leti'^th. "We will put the sad past «way from us, aud only think of it as a •dream.' "But tbe secret will still fret you," she murmured. "It will wear away with time-and with change of scene," be answered sadly. "Change of scene I" she repeated in a etartled tone. "Are you going away?" "Yes; 1 have sold my station, and will leave Australia forever during the next three jmonths." "And where are you going?" asked the girl, father bewildered. "Anywhere." be said, a little bitterly. "I am going to follow the example of Cain, and •fce a wanderer on the face of the earth." : "Alone?" "That is what I have come to see you about," said Brian, looking steadily at her. "1 have come to ask you if you will marry me at ouce, and we will leave Australia together." She hesitated. "I know it is asking a great deal," he said, hurriedly, "to leave your friends, your position, and"—with hesitation—"your father; but think of my life without you—think how 'lonely 1 shall be wandering round the world by myself; ( but you will not desert me now i have so much need of you—you will come witb me ind be aiy good angel in the future as you nave been in the past?" She put ber hand ou his arm, and looking at him witb her clear, gray eyes, said— i«y es) " ' "TuanJj God for that," said Brian, rever- jently. aud there was again silence. Then they sat down and talked about their iplans, and built castles in the air, after the (fashion of lovers. "I wonder what pupa will say?" observed jllaii^e, idly twisting ber engagemeut ring a-ouiui and round, Brian frowned, and a dark look passed over tus tar*. "I suppose 1 must speak to him about it?" lie s.'iiii nt length, reluctantly. "Y.-s, <>r rimrsel" she replied, lightly. "It Is merttly u turumlity . still, oue luat must be "And iMHf/iWd HNWIbf. <« '• ittheofltddwti. "th* important tjudwtioti ot dinner tw-iti« stJttled, *hnt I* it yott Want to »ee me aliotitl Your MHfclbHf ' . "Nol" answered Bfinh, IwitJitlg AgttitMt th« veranda post, while Madge slipped btef baud through hi* arm, "1 bavewld it* "Sold ill* echoed Frettlby, aghast. "What for* 1 * ' . ' ' .•'.-•:•;•;-.. "1 felt restless and wanted a change. "Abl a rolling stone," staid the millionaire, Shaking hia bead, "gathers ho moss, you know." "Stones don't roll of thetf own accord*" replied Brian, in a gloomy tone. "They art impelled by a force over whicb they have no control" "Oh. indeed!" «wid the millionaire, In » Joking tone. "And ttiay 1 ask what is your propelling forcef Brian looked at tha old man's faco with such a steady gaze that the latter's eyes dropped after an uneasy attempt to return it "Well," he said impatiently, looking at the two tall young people standing before him, "what do you want to see me about}" "Madge has agreed to marry me at once and I want your consent." "Impossible I" said KYettlby, curtly. t, tflpWJiS^ frittt , lf i permit "There is no such word as impossible," retorted Brian coolly, thinking of the famouo remark in "Richelieu." "Why should you refuse? 1 am rich now." "Pshawl" saidFrettlby, rising impatiently. "It's not money I'm thinking about—I've go* enough for both of you; but I cannot live without Madge." "Then come with us I" said the daughter, kissing him. "Then come with t*s/" Her lover, however, did not second the invitation, but stood moodily twisting his tawny mustache, and staring out into the garden in an absent sort of way. "What do you say, Fitzgerald?" said Fret- tlby, who was eyeing him keenly. "Oh, delighted, of course," answered Brian confusedly. "In that case," returned the other, coolly, "1 will tell you what we will do. 1 have bought a steam yacht, and she will be ready for sea about the end of January. You will marry my daughter at once, and go round New Zealand for your honeymoon. When you return, if 1 feel inclined, and you two turtle doves dont object, 1 will join you, and we will make a tour of the world." "Oh, how delightful," cried Madge, clasping ber hands. "1 am so fond of the ocean —with n companion, of course," she added, with a saucy glance at her lover Brian's face had brightened considerably, for he was a born sailor, and a pleasing yachting voyage in the blue waters of the Pacific, with Madge as his companion, was, to his mind, as near paradise' as any mortal could get. "And what is the name of the yoeht?" he asked, with deep interest. "Her name," repeated Mr Frettlby, hastily. "Oh, a very ugly name, and which 1 intend to change. At present she is called the Rosanna." "Rosanna!" Brian and his betrothed both started at this, and the former stared curiously at tbe old man, wondering at the coincidence bo- tw'een the name of the yacht and that of the woman who died in the Melbourne slum. Mr. Frettlby flushed a little when be saw Brian's eyo flxeil on him with an inquiring gaze, and arose with an embarrassed laugh. "You are a pair of moonstruck lovers," he said gayly, taking an arm of each and leading them into the house; "but you forget dinner will soon be ready." , Mr. Ffettiby t" *Aid IthllWUMI "Whftf^ I^rio." said ilit- eolf out Of th* brhwii ihiiiy Itt1.it hod fallen 'I'mttfrnM 1'iti hot patriotic, and my btisiiitsss did not rio." i "And now** "Now," -echoed Mr Fnettlby, glnndng at hia daughter. •'( ant going to travel » "The lolllest thing <mt t '' *tid Peterson, eagerly "One imver gets tfrwl of seeing the queer things' there are i ir the world *:•'• "I've soeit qiutfer enough things in Melbourne in ttm oiirly dnys," wild tile old colonist, vrith n wicked twinkle In his feyea. "Ohl" cried Julia, putting ber hands up to her ears, "dont tell me theih, fOf I'm sure they're naughty. ** ' .'-..' "We weren't saints then," «aid. Old Valpy, with a senile chuokle. "Ah^' tliBh, we hhven't changed much iti tbat respect," retorted Frettlby, dryly. "You tnlk of your theatres now," went on Valpy, with the garmlousuess of old age; "why, you haven't got a dancer like Uo- sannn." Brian started on hearing this name again* and be felt Madge's cold baud touch his. "And who was Rosannal" asked Felix, curiously, looking up. "A dancer and burlesque actress," replied Valpy. vivaciously nodding his old head. "Such a beauty ; we were all mad about her —such hair and eyes. You remember her, Frettlby J" "Yes," answered tbe host, in a curioslydry voice. As the conversation seemed to be getting too much of the after dinner style, Madga arose and nil the other ladies followed her ex- ampla The ever polite Fells held tbe door open for them', and received a bright smilo from his wife for what she considered his brilliant talk at the dinner table. Brian sat still and wondered why FYettlby changed color ou hearing the name— he supposed that the millionaire had been mixed up with the actress and did not care about being, reminded of his early indiscretions— and, after all, who does? "She was light as a fairy," said Valpy, with a wicked chuckle. "What became of her?" asked Brian, abruptly Mark Frettlby looker! up suddenly as Fitzgerald asked this question. "She went to England in 1S58," said the aged one. "I'm not quite sure if it was July or August, but it was in 1858." "You will excuse me, Valpy, but 1 hardly think that these reminiscences of a ballet dancer are amusing, 1 ' said KVettlby, curtly, pouring himself out a glass- of wine, "Let us drop the subject" When a man exprssses a wish at his own table it is hardly tbe proper thing for any one to go contrary to it, but Brian felt strongly inclined to pursue the conversation. Politeness, I owever, forbade him to make any further retnark, and he consoled himself. with the reflection that, after dinner, be would ask old Valpy about the ballet dancer whose name caused Mark Frettlby to exhibit such strong emotion. But, to his annoyance, when the gentlemen went into the drawing room, Frettlby took the old colonist oiT to his study, where he sat with him the whole evening talking over old times. where is Mr FretUby?" asked Fitz- geral'1 rising. "Iu the iiilliani room," she answered, as (She followed his example. "No!" she con- Vtinued, as she saw her father step on to the veranda. "Here lie is." Brian had uot seen Mark Frettlby for some •time, and was astonished at the change iiad taken place in his appearance. , he bad been as straight as an ar- 'JTOW, with a stern, fresh colored face; but Juow he had a slight stoop, and bis face looked K>U1 and withered. His thick, black hair was ctreaked here and there with white, and the /Only thing unchanged about him were, his •eyes, which wera as been and bright as ever. Remembering how olrl his own face looked, lend bow altered Madge was, now seeing her lather, be wondennl if this sudden change was traceable to iho same source, namely, <lie murder of Oliver U'hyte. Mr. Frettlby's •face looked sad and thoughtful as he came along; but. catching sight of his daughter, a •mile of affection broke over it. *• "My dear Kitzgerald," be said, holding out (hisband, "tnwis indeed a surprise! When <Jid you come overf" •'About half an hour ago," replied Brian, 'xeluctaotly taking the extended huuii of the millionaire. -1 cumu to see Madge, and lava »talk with you." " Ah 1 that's right," said the other, putting bis BITD round his daughter's waist. "So that's wbat has brought tbe roses to your face, young lady!" he went on, pinching her tJUeeu playfully. "You will stay to dinner, of course. Fitzgerald?" "Thank vou, uol" answered Brian, hastily, •'niy dress" "Nonsense," interrupted Frettlby, hospitably . "we ure-not in Melbourne, and 1 am ' $are Madge will excuse your dress. You "•Yes. do," said Madge, in a beseeching tone, touching his baud lightly. "1 don't see 40 much of you tbat 1 can let you off bflur's couvea'satiOQ." B- lau aeeiaed to be matins a low votoe; "I CHAPTER XXIII. ACHOSS THE WA.LNUT3 AND THE WISH. Mark Frettlby bad an excellent cook, and bis winus were irreproachable, so tbat Brian, in spite of his worries, was glad that he bad accepted the invitation. Tho bright gleam of the silver, the glitter of glass and the perfume of flowers, all collected under the crimson glow of a pink globed lamp which hung from the ceiling, could not but give him a pleasurable sensation. On one side of tbe dining room there were French windows opening onto the veranda, and beyond appeared the vivid green of the trees, and the dazzling colors of the flowers, somewhat tempered by the soft, hazy glow of tho twilight. Brian had made himself as respectable as possible, under tbe odd circumstances of dining iu his riding dress, and sat n«rt to Madge, contentedly sipping his wine and listening to the pleasant chatter which was going ou around him. Felix Rolleston was in great spirits, the more so as Mrs. Rolleston was at the further end of tho table, hidden from bis view by an epergne of fruit and flowers. Julia Featherweight sat near Mr. Frettlby, and chatted to him so persistently tbat he wished she would be*come possessed of a dumb devil. Dr. Chinston and Paterson were seated on the other Bide of tbe table, and the old colonist, whose name was Valpy, had the post of bouor on Mr. Frettlby's right hand. The conversation had turned onto the subject, ever green and fascinating, of politics, and Mr. Rolleston thongbt it a good opportunity to air his views as to tbe government of the colony, and to show his wife that be meant to obey ber wish and become a power in tbe political world. "By Jovo, you know," he said, with a wave of bis band, as though be were addressing the house; "the country is going to the dogs, and all that sort of thing. What we want is a. man like Beaconsfleld." "Ah! but you can't pick up a man like that every day," said Frettlby, who was listening witb au amused smile to Rolleston's disquisitions. "Rather a good thing, too," observed Dr. Cbinston, dryly. "Genius would become too common." "Well, when I am elected," said Felix, who had his own views, which modesty forbade him to publish, ou the subject of tbe coming colonial Disraeli, "i will probably form a party." "To advocate what!" asked Paterson, curiously. ."Ob, well, you we," hesitated Fell*, "I baven't drawn up a progrcHotoe yet, so can't •ay at present" "Ye», you cap hajnUyfivea performaj[jc« without * programms," said tbe doctor, taking a Up of win*, and ten »?«rybo4y CHAPTER XXIV. BHIAN KECErvnS A LETTER. Notwithstanding tbe hospitable invitation of Mr. Frettlby, Brian refused to stay at Yabba Yallook that night, but after saying good-by to Madge, mounted his horse and rode slowly in the moonlight. He felt very happy as, letting the reins lie on his horse's neck, he gave himself up unreservedly to his thoughts. Atra Cura certainly did not sit behind the horseman on this night; and Brian, to his surprise, found himself singing "Kitty of Coleraiue," as he rode along in the silver moonlight. Why should he trouble himself about tbe crime of another? Nol He bad made a resolve, and intended to keep it. he would put this secret with which be had been intrusted behind his back, and would wander about the world witb Madge and—her father. He felt a sudden chill come over him as he murmured the last words to himself—"her father." "I'm a fool," be said, impatiently, as bo gathered up tbe reins and spurred the horse into a canter "It can make no difference to me as long as Madge remains ignorant; but to sit beside him, to eat with him, to have him always present like a skeleton at a feast —God help me!" He urged his horse into a gallop, and as he thundered ovor the turf, with the fresh, cool night wind blowing keenly against his face, he felt a sense of relief, as though he were leaving some dark specter behind. On he galloped, with tbe blood throbbing in hia young veins, over miles of plain, with the dark blue, star studded sky above, and the moon shining down on him. On—on—ever on, until his own homestead appears, and be sees the star like light shining brightly in the distance—a long avenue of tall trees, over whose wavering shadows his horse thundered, and then the wide grassy space in front of tbe house, witb the clamorous barking of dogs. A groom roused by the clatter of hoofs up the avenun comes round the side of the house, and Brian leaps off his horse and flinging tbe reins to tbe man, walks into his own room. There he Jinds a lighted lamp, brandy and soda on the table and a packet of lettere and newspapers. He flung his bat ou tbe sofa aud opened tbe window and door, so as to let in the cool breeze; then pouring himself out a glass of brandy and soda he turned up the lamp aiwi prepared to read his letters. The first he took up was from a lady. "Always a she correspondent for me," says Isaac Disraeli, "provided she does not cross." Brian's correspondent did not cross, but notwithstanding this, after reading half a page of small talk and scandal, he flung the letter on the table witb an impatient ejaculation. The other letters were principally business ones, but the last one proved to be from CaJ- tou, and Fitzgerald opened it with a sensation of pleasure. Calton was a capital letter writer, and his epistles had done much to cheer Fitzgerald in the dismal period which succeeded his acquittal of \V byte's murder, and when be was in danger o" getting into a morbid state of mind. Brian, therefore, poured himself out some more brandy ao4 soda, and, lying back ill his chair, prepared to enjoy himself. "My dear Fitzgerald," wrote Calton, in bis peculiarly clear handwriting, whicb was such an exception to the usual crabbed hieroglyphics of his brethren of the bar, "wbilo you are enjoying tbe cool breezes aud delightful freshness of tbe country, here am 1, witb numerous other poor devils, cooped up in this hot and dusty city. How 1 wish I were witb you in tbe land of Goshen, by the rolling waters of tbe Murray, where everything is bright, aud greeu, a»4 unsophisticated— the two latter terms are almost identical—instead of whicb nay view is bounded by briejk£ and mortar, and tbe muddy waters of the Yarra have to do duty for your noble river, I suppose you still bold the secret whicb JU>sauna Sloore tasrusted you witb—abl you see 1 know ber wwe, and wby?—simply be/ cause, witl» the ftatfu^l curiosity oj the b\>- map race, I fc»v* te&» trying to Oud oat V$ V AI*V dftvftrlv noiilfrui *wt KOBfliTinfl MOOJV V* J ffff 1 * ' »* *<# Jp****!P*"!iKW *""W 1F " J ;^™ B ™ 7^"^^ tort ws all haft dtif Ml* feu „.... fftJftt «t omlftljjs, fcfeottgli frtirtak*fi, seiiM of~«tttHl l «ftyduty»--yoUri»fuBBt6$«'> fiver up the man whose cowardly efttfttto nearly co*t y«« youf Met "After your rtopaftarw from MeJbttJffli every one *fttrt, 'The hnn*om cab tragedy it nt on efid, and the hltlfderW will never be discovered. I ventured to dlsftftri-e with tha wiseacres who made such a remark, and asked myself. 'Who was this woman who died 'at Mother Guttersnipe's? ReoeivlnR no satisfactory answer from myself, 1 determined to find out. and took steps accordingly In tho first place, 1 learned from Roger Moreland, who, if you remember, was a witness against you at the trial, that Whyte and Rosanna Moore hart come out to Sidney in the John Elder about a year ago as Mr. and Mrs. Whyte, I need hardly say tbat they did not think it needful to go through the formality of marriage, aa such n tie might have been found inconvenient on some future occasion. Moreland knew nothing about Rosanna 'Moore, and advised me to give up the search, as, coming from a city like London, it would be difficult to find any one who knew her there. Notwithstanding this, 1 telegraphed home to a friend of mine, who is n bit of an amateur detective: 'Find out the name and all about the woman who (eft England in tho John Elder on the81stday of August, 18—,au the wife of Oliver Whyto.' Mirabile dictu, he found out all about her, and knowing, au you do, what a maelstrom of humanity London is, you must admit my friend was clever. It appears, however, that the task 1 set him to do was easier than be expected, for the so called Mrs. Whyte was rather a notorioun individual in her own way. She was a burlesque actress at the Frivolity theatre in London, and. being a very handsome woman, had been photographed innumerable timesj Consequently when she very foolishly went with Whyte to choose a berth on board the bbat, she was recognized by the clerk in the office as Rosanna Moore, better known as Musette of the Frivolity. Why she ran away with Whyte I cannot tell you. Witb reference to men understanding women, I refer vou to Balzac's remark anent the same. Perhaps Musette got weary of St. John's Wood and champagne suppers, and longed for the purer air of her nati ve land. Ah I you open your eyes at this latter statement—you are surprised—no, on second thoughts you are not; because she told you herself that she was a native of Sydney, and had gone home in 1858, after a triumphant career of acting in Melbourne. And why did she leave the applauding Melbourne public and the flesh pots of Egypt* You know this also. She ran away with a rich young squatter, witb more money than morals, who happened to be in Melbourne at the time. She seems to have had a weakness for rnnning away. But why she chose Whyte to go with this time puzzles me. He was not rich, not particularly good looking, had no position, and a bad temper. How do I know all these traits of Mr. Whyte's character, morally and socially? Easily enough; my omniscient friend found them all out. Mr. Oliver Whyte was the son of a London tailor, and his father, being well off, retired into private < life, and ultimately went tho way of all flesh. His son, finding himself with a capital income and a pretty taste for amusement, out the shop of his late lamented parent, found out that his family had come over witb the Conqueror—Glanville do Whyte helped to sew the Bayeux tapestry, 1 suppose—and graduated at the Frivolity theatre as a masher. In common with the other gilded youth of tbe day, bo worshiped at the gas lit shrine of Musette, and the goddess, pleased with his incense, left her other admirers in the lurch, and ran away with fortunate Mr. Whyte. As far as this goes there is nothing to show why the murder was committed. Men do not perpetrate crimes for the sake of light o' loves like Musette, unless indeed some wretched youth embezzlesmoney to buy his divinity jewelry. The career of Musette in l/andon was simply that of a clever membar of the demi-monde, and, as far as 1 can learu, no one was so much in love with her as to commit a crime for her saka So far, so good; the motive of the crime must, tie found in Australia. Wbyte had spent nearly all bis money in England, and consequently Musette and her lover arrived in Sydney with comparatively little cask However, with an Epicurean like philosophy they enjoyed themselves on -what little they had, and then came to Melbourne, where they stayed at a second rate hotel. Musette, I may tell you, had one special vice, a common one—drink. She loved champagne, and drank a good deal of it. Consequently, on arriving in Melbourne, and finding that a new generation had arisen which knew not Joseph—1 meau Musette—she drowned her sorrow in the flowing bowl, and went out after a quarrel with Mr. Whyte to view Melbourne by night—a familiar aspect to her, no doubt. What took her to Little. Bourke street I don't know Perhaps she got lost; perhaps it had been a favorite walk of hers in the old days; at all events she Waa found dead drunk in that unsavory locality by Sal Rawlins. I know this is so, because Sal told ma so her- salf. Sal acted the part of the good Samaritan; took her to the squalid den she called home, and there Rosanna Moore fell dangerously ill Wbyte, who b:ui missed her, found out where she was and^tbat she was too ill to be removed. 1 presume he was rather glad to get rid of such au encumbrance, so went back to his lodgings at St. Kilda, which, judging from the landlady's story, he must have occupied for some time, while Rosauna Moore was drinking herself to death in a quiet hotel Still he does not break off his connection with the dying woman; but ono night is murdered in a hansom cab, and that same night Rosanna Moore dies. Bo, from all appearance, everything is ended; not so, for before dying Rosanna sends for Brian Fitzgerald at bia club, and reveals to him a secret whicb bo locks up in bis own heart. The writer of. this letter has a theory—a fanciful one, if you will—that the secret told to Brian Fitzgerald contains the mystery of Oliver Whyte's death. Now then, have I not found out » good deal without you, and do you still do- cline to reveal the rest? 1 do not say you know who killed Whyte, but i do say you know sufficient to lead to the detection of tho murderer. If you tell me, so much tbe batter, both for your own sense of justice and for your peace of mind; if you do not—well, I ghall flud it out without you. I bare taken, and still take, a great interest in this strange case, aud 1 have sworn to bring tbe murderer to justice; so I make this last appeal to you to tell me what you know, if you refuse, I will go to work to Hud out all about Rosanna Jioore prior to her departure from Australia in 1,853, and 1 am certain sooner or later to discover the secret which led to Whyte's murder. If there is any strong reason why it should be kept silent, 1, perbapa, will come round to your view, and let .tbe matter drop; but it I bave to find it out myself, tbe murderer of Oliver Wbyte need expect OO mercy at my bauds. So think over what I bave said, If 1 do not bear from you witbin tbe gaxt week 1 will regard your decision as final, awl pursue tbe search myself. MAN OUT' F6R THE i»m Kye ttoentt't Want to Kick a fttatt When He t* Still Tntked of In Chleago ntid Other Piuses—ttut Chris WAS ft t,l*r All the, Sftme. tOopyright, 1&5, by Edgar W. Nye.l It iu no-tf 400"yeafB since a sol horseman might have been fieon riding between hia own home and the reigning works of King Ferdinand; wrapped in thought. Four hundred years have aped away and a mighty nation, proud and arrogant, has arisen to do honor to that heroism and the courageous blunder which added a new world to civilization. "1 am sure, my dear Fitzgerald, y«J ftnd this letter too long, iaspit^ol con.tawg.wJ wtij on THE NOBLEMAN AT NYE'3 DOUSE. Beading carefully the biography of Columbus we find that no one in his age or generation could have been better fitted for the mighty job of opening up and booming a western world than Ohristopher Columbus, for he is said to have been one of the brightest young liars of his time. Columbus took prevarication in its infancy, it is said, and put it on its feet and made an industry of it. "He had a talent of deceit," says his biographer, "and sometimes boasted of it, or at least counted it a merit." And this is the gentleman whose name we give to the world's great exposition 400 years after he found us while looking for some one elsel i hate to seem pessimistic or speak lightly of a great man. i believe that i should speak of Columbus with respect, as 1 would have wished him to refer to me if our places had been reversed; but oh, how sad it is to know that the land of Washington— G-eorge Washington, the man who would not lie even about his circulation—that such a land. 1 say, should have been discovered by a liar who represented the pauper labor of Europe! This, i say, pains and grieves me. The biographer of Columbus also produces good evidence to show that Chris was not by a long, long distance the pioneer in the theory of the earth's' sphericity. It was an idea taught by the Pythagoreans in the Sixth century before Christ, which was, as the ready mathematician will see at once, about a.OOO years before Christopher Columbus got his innch put up for his great journey west. Two hundred years before Christ, Crates is said to have constructed a globe map over ten feet in diameter and offered it as & premium with his paper, so that even in the time of our Saviour the sphericity of the earth was not a new thing. Religious matters of course engrossed the attention at that time so much that geography was yet in its infancy, but it was common talk in Jerusalem, especially on the west side, that the earth was round like a ball and composed of land and water. Toscanelli had much to do with tiring up Columbus to make the voyage of discovery. We hear very little of Tosca- nelli, and yet he taught Columbus that the earth was round like a ball and flattened at the poles. Toscanelli had figured out by means of logarithms and a piece of chalk that the circumfererice of the earth was 18,000 miles. This slight error of 7,000 miles, considering what disadvantages he had to deal with and also that one astronomer as late as the Sixteenth century made an error of 3,000,000 miles in figuring out the distance of the earth from the sun, not even discovering the mistake till years afterward, when he accidentally paced off the distance out of curiosity—1 say an error of 7,000 miles, at a time when there were so few barns upon which to make geometrical calculations, is not surprising. Let us now pass on rapidly to, speak of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, vieweil in the light of more careful research by the biographer of Columbus, la it not too i«id to learn, after years of faith and trust in Isabella, that she was really one of our coarsest and jayest of queens? Oh, what can be sadder than to catch a crowned head in a mean act? What can be more depressing than to know that your favorite monarch is a chump or a jay? Oh, it is terrible! I never had but one such experience myself. Our house used to be quite a rendez- iwut for people of title wheo 1 was a uhild. Wealthy nobles used to come to our bouse aud bring their dinners with them. We were very popular with that set. When they came I slept with my parents. So did the other boys,- i held these titled people in great esteem, and gave them my pie. But one day a duke who was at our place shooting grouse, prairie chickens and cows, sat at table iml combed his red, red whiskers witb nis fork. That settled it with him. i oould not respect him after that. Se also put his teeth ou tbe table while speaking of bis ancestors, 1 bate that A man who cannot speak freely of bis ancestors without removing, hp is no frie&4 of jni»e- . it ua* been eaid, sfamlld feeW, ,._.,. lvery distent from Isabella. She upright as d monarch,and had once stepped aside from the p dntf in order to gtatify her own wishes, giie has put in her little old-eight houf si per day reigning jnat the sanw ftf she would if Ood had told her,to g&Mtd behind ti counter and tfafj ott the showcase and call "cash" for the same tttua« ber of years. • So the historian says that Queen lea* bella, hoping for new realms tb goVofrn and for several new sealskin sacqnes Oft the return of Columbus, bade him god- speed and made him sign a cast iron contract to turn over all his discoveries to her and Ferdinand. Then, believing that the great traveler would strike Asia, ihey gave him a letter of introduction to the khan of Tartary instead of a letter to Sitting Bull, as they should have done, and he set out. He waa to be commodore of Long- Island sound if he succeeded, and governor general of Constable's Hook. He was, by contract, permitted to retain, one-tenth Of all gold, silver, pearls, precious'stones and pelts found on the voyage after the costs had been deducted. The biographer of Columbus tells us that the story about Isabella having pawned her jewels to fit out Columbus on his trip will not do at all. She and Ferdie just simply cast an anchor to windward, hoping to get a controlling ' interest in the Standard Oil company before anybody else did so. And so the story gradually comes down. to the spinal column of lust for gold, not only on the part of his royal backers, but even Columbus and his crew were out for the dust and that alone. What* commonplace tale after our schoolboy wonder and admiration. Wherever Columbus landed he asked if gold existed there. If not, he assessed the natives so much cotton per head. When there waa gold, it was a hawk's bill of this metal per man and a calabash of gold per' chief. The rotundity of the earth did not worry him so much as hia own rotundite. Finally Columbus got to lying again* He gave offices to his relatives, not only to his wife's family, lint at last he got reckless and began to Iv.nd out offices k» his numerous children. It was then time to call a halt, us the local Genoa papers so truly said, and when he offered to open up a slave trade between Spain^. and the Bahamas people lost faith in him. It is pretty well settled that Columbus- drew the prize for first seeing land, when as a matter of fact one of hia men was first to see it. and that he put the money into a watch with a peach stone fcharm on the chain. Columbus had been dead 230 years before he learned that his discovery was not a part of Asia. We can imagine' him now. as he rode along the Jersey" coast, inquiring for the Ah Khoond of Swatt, to whom lie had a letter from Ferdinand. I can see him now at. the- Potter building or the Mills building- asking for the khan of Tartary, or trying to find his telephone number on a pink pamphlet at the ferry. Yet we might as well give to Columbus the glory of this great discovery, whether he did it accidentally or from a. mercenary point of view purely. We- will let that go. The time is ripe for celebration. Let us celebrate. When Columbus came- here Patrick Henry had not even beent surmised; Henry Clay had not been, thought of. The application of electricity had not been dreamed of, and the pink tea was- yet unborn. Oh, what strides have been made even in one century, and in 400 years tho change has been most marvelous. The use of ensilage at the time of the discovery of America was yet in' its infancy. Lots of people did not know what it was. It is so even now. STUDYING GOVERNMENT. Religion was at that time in a rudimentary state. Wow it is perfected and painless in its operations. Then religion was a calamity; now it is a blessing, »nd is rarely aa fatal as it used to be. Cooking has advanced witb giant itrides. Pie, both plain and engraved, has been introduced. The brevetted pie mth monogram has taken tbe place of tbe early tart, which was not durable,, and which yielded readily to the action, at the stomach. Statesmanship as a means of obtaining; i livelihood has come to stay. The study of government is beginning tp interest tbe- scholarly, while those who are JWfc scholarly continue to scoop in tbe yotaf and do the growing. Whether Columbus discovered this- •ountry on purpose or not, tbe writer ef' Sbtese lines is much obliged to binj.. Whether he did it for revenue only or tor tbe advancement of civilisation, bis sourftge is worthy our respect; and, esteem, and it is my own earnest wiah that hia little episode in honor ol hi* four hundredth, anniversary may aopre » aa tbe kjpd regard* te yow^atf,

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