The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on December 6, 1893 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

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THE ttPJWBfi DBS MOINES; ALGO1STA, IOWA, WJSBHJSSBA.Y v MCEMBEfl 6, 1893, ill. & ICK CAVERLY was whistling softly as he moved about the one . bare room of his little cabin, but there was no jubilance in the strain. Yet Dick was !a"ktng his toilet for a dinner—and Inner parties were rare up on San '" is. This one to be sure was but a ig-party of two, and moreover it a farewell, since his prospective it was to leave the camp on the ixt morning's stage. .Travel's was ..e only man on tho mountain with 'horn Dick could fraternize. There We he was melancholy even with the _ _ before'him of Travers chili iJbn came, upon the strength of which ""ilie latter claimed for himself the title t the-best cook on the motintain. ttverly had finished shaving—an extra Uch in honor of the event—and now pulled on his corduroy coat and nrveycd as much of his picturesque- k clad six-feet-two of brawn as the till cracked mirror on the wal! should accommodate. Juddenly across the pale square o 'e window Hashed a shadow. A ino- "ent later it darkened the doorway, iverly wheeled about sharply as an sprang into the cabin and slarn- .ing the door, shot the heavy bolt in ,0 socket. Instantly tho small room :&s almost dark. >'Who's that?" demanded Cavcrlv ckhig toward the shelf where his iVolver lay. J,Breathing heavily like a huntcc Ittiinal, the man came a few steps iearcr and Caverly recognized one o '{he Mexican hands at the lumber-mill "Juan Valcra! What's the matter— ,'e you loco?" ijEhe Mexican shook his head, stag sideways and leaned against the panting for breath. 3, senor, no! D'on't lot them take I'or el ainar do Dios!" pushed forward the onlj in the room and stood silent foi moment, his finger on the trigger o: 'is revolver, and his eyes on Valera "" o had collapsed limply into the scat 'Now, Valera, if you've got youi :ath, tell me what the trouble is. hat have you done'. 1 " il'Nothing, senor—I swear by the jlesscd Virgin!" Ijln the faint light from tho vvindov •He Mexican's face showed ghastly ite with tciror. jJ'JIcar that! They're coining! O 'mor Richards, help me, hide mo toewlicre!" "Nonsense, it's the wind in the pin said Cavorly, exasperated b.v ,e man's cowardice. "Can't you- jlle paused suddenly and stood alert fsteniug. Was that the murmur o ihe pines, or was it the trampling o " :Ct in the dry needles which carpe e forest? Valera too caught the. Ibund and got to his feet. A shou jjutside was eehoucl by his stifled cry bf torfor as he started toward Caverly ' "Keep back!" cried the lattei Warily.. "Seuor, they'll hang me! I didn' kill him, I swear to you! O my wife :my Sautuzza! and my poor Httlc >Pedro! Ah—" - There was the red flash of a lantern fmnd a rush of feet past the window jand then a sharp rap on the. door. "Mr. Caverly! are you here'.'" cricc rough voice. "Senor, don't let them in!" cricc iValera as Caverly moved past him. .; "lie still! I'm going to open the ,<loor and see what these men want, j fwou't let them hurt you unless you Svdescrve it. Sabe that? Then shut up.' i With this Cavelry shot the bolt anc flung the door open. A murmur ot : ? surprise greeted him from a do/on _nien dimly visible in the red light o iftho lanterns outside. 'What, you here? Wo didn't see j?«ny light and thought—" What's tho matter?' 1 dcmandec {'Caverly. i "A man's been killed and we're after the fellow that done it!" saici one of the foremost hoarsely. . "Who's killed?" "Travers." "My God!" Caverly caught the door .casing. "It can't be!" For an instant his brain reeled. He Jeaned against tho side of the door, shearing dimly, as in a confused dream, tho voices of the men around him. •' Juan Valera," some ones was baying when he pulled himself to- .igethcir. "Wo were close on his trail and we know he's hero. Bring him out, Caverly. We'll show the greaser that a white man—" the speaker shook the lariat which was coiled about his •arm. "Are you sure he did it?" asked •Caverly, strangely calm. "Sure? Of course we are. Wasn't his knife lying in the blood by poor Travel's when we found him?" "Was he dead?" here Caverly's •voice trembled slightly. "No, he isn't dead, but Doc says—" "Not dead? Why in Heaven's name •didn't you tell me? I must go. Johnson, don't hang Valera till you're dead sure he deserves it. Lock him up and if—if Travers—" "Doc says he can't live," said Johnson doggedly. "And wo propose to '•finish the job while we're about it. , We ain't the men to tramp six miles through the woods for nothing. Don't "bother us, Mr. Caverly. (Jo on and •see your friend and let us alone." "I won't let you murder a defenseless man," said Caverly doggedly. "I promised to protect him and I will. You can take him and guard him till ihe's proved guilty—" "He's proved guilty now!" shouted another man. "Stand aside, or it'll "be the worse for you!" Uaverly knevy the fierce temper of •these men and their ill-feeling toward <t.he Mexicans, and he saw that both were now exasperated to a dangerous pitch. But he could not desert Valera. "You cannot take him unless you •promise me not to harm him now," he igaid. "How're you going to help your- igelf?" jeered one of the men. "I advise you not to try it. I'll do for one of you anyway and you'll have to kill me first!" cried Caverly recklessly. His blood was thoroughly up. Ev^.ry muscle and sinew in his mag- nificeat'bbdy was tense with resolu- |U>n, "" i angry crowd paused a moment;. had bargained for.- Suddenly Johnson dropped tho coiled lariat from his arm and stepped forward. "Come on, boys, let's end this!" he cried. Caverly measured with a glance the heavy frame of his advancing adversary. He sa\v that the man meant to match physical foiv.o with him. The weapon in his,hand was not natural to him. He thrust it into his belt and stepped to the ground, feeling the old exultant confidence in his tried strength and skill sweep over him. Johnson was an ineli s'liorter than himself, massively built and, as he knew, of enormous strength. "Pair play—one at a time!" he cried. At the same moment Johnson sprang forward and his right arm shot out like a iliish. Caverly parried and in his turn lunged but Johnson ducked under his arm and the two men clinched. For some moments they struggled,almost motionless, so evenly were they matched. Suddenly Johnson, too impatient to feint, stooped and shot forward, his arms low down to got his favorite hold. Hut at that instant the half-Nelson of the college gymnasium came into play against him. There was a half-turn of Caverly's body, a wrench forward, and Johnson, lifted clear from his feet, was whirled on a pivot and crashed full-length on the ground. Stunned by the terrible shock for some moments he lay motionless. ."Any of the rest of you want to try it?" demanded Caverly, breathing hard. In an instant he saw from the expression of the men's faces that the victory was gained. Johnson had been the ring-leader, and his discomfiture had momentarily naralyzed them. "Give me your word that you won't harm Valera to-night," said Caverly, changing his tone. "And let me go to Travers. I may be too late now." The men hesitated and then yielded a grudging assent. "We aren't afraid of you, young feller—you know that," began one. "Of course," agreed Caverly. "Now you're acting like men. ValeYa!" He turned and called twice, but there was no answer. Hastily he lit a candle. The little room was empty. Valcra had made his escape through KKKI 1 BACK." the window. There was an angry murmur from the crowd when this fact was made certain. "Let him go," said Caverly. "If he's really,guilty I'll turn out myself and help you track him to-morrow. Goodsight." Ho sprang down the steps leaving the door wide open and struck off into the woods at a run. The never- ceasing murmur of the great pines sounded above him like the wash of the sea. The dry needles crackled under his feet. Between the tops of che trees gleamed tho marvellously clear starry sky, and the divine air of the mountains flowed and eddied about him like a living thing. He plunged down tho slopes at a rate that soon brought him into view of the scattered lights of the little hamlet, and a moment later to the door of Travers' cabin, which stood a little apart from tho others. The door was open. Ho stepned inside. The front room was empty, but in the other "Doc" Simpson sat tilted back in a chair reading an old newspaper by tlio light of a tallow candle, and in one corner on tho low cot lay a still figure, tho face turned to tho wall. At Caverly's almost noiseless approach, Doc looked over hi's paper and in response to tho other's signal rose cautiously and came out. "Is he—dead?" whispered Caverly. "No, not yet—but he won't live till morning," answered Doc with professional nonchalance. "Is he asleep—can I see him?" "Yes, you can see him. Nothing'll hurt him now." Cavorly went up to the cot and stooped over it with bated breath. There was a slight movement of Travers' head and his eyes half opened. "Travers, old fellow!" whispered Cavorly. The dying man smiled faintly and nodded. Caverly dropped on' his knees beside tho cot. "How did this happen?" hogroaned between his teeth. "Who did it Travers?" "Juan Valera's wife," answered Travers faintly. "Santuzza!" exclaimed Caverly with a gasp of surprise; and then as a light broke over him, he added slowly, "Ah! I understand. These Mexican women are devils when they are jealous. Travers lay with closed eyes. Presently he opened them wide and looked at Caverly anxiously. "In here; get the picture, "he whispered with an effort laying his hand on his breast. Caverly put his hand in his dying friend's coat pocket and drew out a worn envelope. In it, lie knew, was a photograph of the fair faced girl "back East" whom Travers was to have married in a few weeks. "Send it to her, and tell her I loved her," Travers whispered again. I will; I will, old fellow," Gaverly said pressing his friend's hand. "Did Santuzza ever see this?" pointing to the photograph. Travers seemed to be striving to remember and finally nodded. "How did she do it. Can't you tell me? asked Caverly anxiously. But Travers eyes were closed and no words seemed to reach his brain. Hour after hour Caverly sat and watched beside his friend while the night wore on and the doctor read and dozed in his chair. No one came in. The village was as quiet as though deserted. As the faint light of the dawn caused the candle to burn, more dimly ,he dying man's breathing became horter and fainter and then stopped. Caverly pushed open the cabin door and, stepped out just as a group, of ogs»e out of the\yood§ and mQve4 down the trail to the camp.. They were carrying something. Caverly went to meet them. Kefore he had asked a question, Johnson called to him: "It's Valera's wife," he said, "Tbat devil of a greaser has vamoosed. Thought he'd shut her up, first, I reckon." Caverly had now come up. One of the men was carrying tho boy Pedro. "Likely she followed him and lu couldn't got away if he took her with him," Johnson added as the roti,<yh men laid the body gently down on tho floor of the general store. "You see, we thought we might as well be hunting him, and we found this. He won't never show his face around here again." Caverly did not contradict him. He sent the photograph and the message as he had promised. And when he went back to his lonely cabin on tho mountain he carried the child Pedro \vith him. He alone know that Santuzza had taken the only way to prevent the man whom she secretly loved from returning to the girl who waited for him "back East." SIZE OF THE PACIFIC. It Covers Sloro Than n Tlilfil of tin Eurth'H Aron. Tho Pacific ocean may bo reckoned to include 68,001),000 square milos, oj more than one-third of tho total aref of tho earth's surface. It extend!:' through nearly li!5 degrees oC lati tude, or throe-eighths of the world'i circumference—a stretch of 9,000 miles from north to south. From oast to west it varies from an even greater length to less than fifty miles. If confined by tho smallest possible length of boundary line, ij would form a round pond 9,!30l) milos in diameter. Tho deepest sounding made by tho Challenger expedition was in tho Pacific, between tho Carolines and the Ladrones, and was 4,475 fathoms, or 26,850 feet; a greater depth than the height of any mountain in the world except three. A still deeper sounding was made from tho United States ship Tuscaora, of -1,600 fathoms (27,600 foot), at tho entrance of the sea of Okhotsk; this being probably tho deepest reliable sounding over made. The Pacific ocean has not boon explored nearly so thoroughly as the Atlantic, according to Longman's Magazine, and generalizations of the comparatively few statistics available may bo subject to consider able inaccuracy; but putting together the recorded soundings, and taking into account an estimate of tho doptli based upon tho swiftness of the tide wave, it seems probable that tho average depth of tho Pacific may safely be put at 3,000 fathoms (18,000 foot), or nearly throe and one half miles. This gives tho entire contents of tho Pacific as nearly 282,000,000 cubic milos. Some conception of one cubic mile may be got from tho statement that, if we had a block ' of buildings of that size, it would take t.n hour to walk around it at a good pace, ami a fairly easy staircase to the top of it would contain 10,000 steps, while thirteen cathedrals as high as St. Paul's could be piled up on one another without reaching to tho top. The cubic contents expressed in feet is thirty-four trillions (thirty- four million million.) This is a number it is not ea^y to realize; it is so groat that if a million clocks ticked once a second for a million years their combined tickings would not amount to it. As each cubic foot of water weighs over sixty-two pounds, tho weight of tho Pacific is over 2,000 trillion pounds, or 950,000,000,000,000,000 tons. When Consuls Are .7ud|fo.s. In lands like China, Japan or Siam the United States minister or consul general, as well as the representatives of tho other groat powers, exorcises what is called in tho treaties "extra territorial jurisdiction." For instance, all violations of law by residents who claim tho protection of tho American flag, whether it be ^jo- twoon themselves or with a native, must be adjusted by tho consul. At such posts as Reben, Hankow, Yokohama or Bangkok tho United States minister or consul sits almost daily as a court. Ilia power is supremo, even to the point of ordering capital punishment, and tho findings of the consular court are free of any reversion or interference whatsoever of tho native authorities. Purlllad by Firm There is no more effective .sanitary agent than fire. The ancient who made his napkin of asbestos, had but to throw it into the fire when soiled, and it could not be made cleaner. And if we could but build our houses of incombustible materials the spring cleaning might be efficiently accomplished by incendiarism. London, indeed, was purified from a plague by a general conllagration- And almost tho one thing which that indestructible disease gerin, the bacillus, cannot stand is heat. lie Hus Struck Gold. A contractor sinking a ten-inch driven well at Dover, Del., has hit upon the plan of substituting a rotary motion for the direct blow of the pile driver in sinking his pipes. After a pipe had been driven more than 100 feet by the pile driver the other method was applied and the pipe was sunk three feet in twenty minutes. Tho contractor is going to patent the invention if nobody has anticipated it. Cruutliloquont Titles. Oriental titles during the middle ages were sometimes very grandiloquent. The king of Arrachan was known as "Emperor of Arrachau Possessor of the White Elephant, Owner of the Two Ear-Kings, Legitimate Heir of Pegu and Brahma, Lord of the Twelve Provinces of Bengal, Master of the Twelve Kings Who Place Tfceir Heads Undsv JJis COLUMBUS AT COORfi Ttla wnrs arc ended: nnd soft-brooding pence Distends her pinions o'er tho ravaged land Hard won by Isabel and Ferdinand From Moorish clutches. At this RliUl freloftso Ot siORC and sally, It is no caprice But in thanksgiving, that tho royal hand Hastens ft general fete-clay to command, And bids the.tnournins in tho realm to cense. While the rand mirth goes forv.-.u'd, nnd all Spain Unites the ready cup of joy to quaff. Columbus, mute and hopeless, worn with pain, Loans in dojoction on his faithful staff, Bearing potential empires in his brain, And fools around him only look and Inngh. —Huntington Smith, in the Independent. THE MISADVENTURES OF JOHN NICHOLSON. «Y HOHKHT I-OtTlS STKVKNSOJT. CHAPTER VII—CONTINUED. Forth trundled tho cab into the Christinas streets, the faro within plunged in the blackness of ft despair that neighbored on unconsciousness, tho driver on the box digesting his rebuke and his customer's duplicity. I would not bo thought to put Hi • pair in competition. John's capo wa , out of all parallel. But tho cainnun, too, is worth tho sympathy of tlio judicious, for ho was a fellow of genuine kindliness and a high sense of personal dignity incensed by drink; and his advances had boon cruelly and publicly rebuffed. As lie d'."ovo, therefore, ho counted his wrongs, and thirsted for sympathy and drink. Now, it chanced that ho had a friend, a publican in Quoousfcrry sk-oot, from whom, in view of the sacrednoss of the occasion, ho thought he might extract a dram. Qucensferry street lies something off the direct road to Murrayfiold. But then there is tho hilly crossroad that passes by tho valley of tho Loith and the Dean cemetery; and Queonsfcrry street is on the way to that. What was to hinder the cabman, since his horse was dumb, from choosing' etho crossroad, and calling on his friend in passing? So it was decided: and tho charioteer already somewhat mollified, turned aside his horse to the right. John, meanwhile, sat collapsed, his chin sunk upon his chest, his mind in abeyance. Tho smell of tho cab was still faintly present to hi.s senses, and a certain leaden chill about his feet; all else had disappeared in one vast oppression of calamity and physical faintness. It was drawing on Vo noon—two and twenty hours since ho had broken bread; in tho interval ho had suffered tortures of sorrow and alarm and been partly tipsy; and though it was impossible to say ho slept, yet when the cab stopped, and the cabman thrust his head in tit tho window, his attention had to bo recalled from depths of vacancy, "If you'll no' stand mo a, dram"sald the driver, with a well-merited severity of tone and manner, "I dare Bay you'll have no objection to my taking one myself!" "Yes—no—do what yon like," returned John; and then as ho watched his tormentor mount the stairs and enter tho whiskey shop there floated into his mind a sense of something long ago familiar. At that ho started fully awake and stared at the shop fronts. Yes, ho know them; but when! 1 and how? Long since, ho thought; and then, casting his eye through the front glass, which had been recently occluded by tho figure of tho jurvcy,ho beheld the trcotops of tho rookery in Randolph Crescent. Ho was close to home—homo, where ho had thought at that hour to bo sitting in tho woll-romemherod drawing-room in friendly converse; and, instead It was his first impulse to drop into tho bottom of tho cab; his next to cover his face with his hands, So ho sat, while the cabman toasted the publican, and botli reviewed tho affairs of the nation j so ho still eat when his master corftfesccndod to return and drive oil at last down hill, along tho curve of Lynedooh Place; hut even so sitting, as he passed tho end of his fa*.'.!'"^ street, ho took one glance from •'?'• v\ con shielding lingers and beheld a lector's carriage at tho door. "Well, just so," thought ho; "I'll have killed my father! And this is Christinas day!" If Mr. Nicholson died it was down this same road ho must journey to tho grave; and down this road on the same errand, his wife had preceded him years before; and many other leading citizens, with tho proper trappings and attendance of the end. And now, in that frosty, ill-smelling straw-carpeted and rag-cushioned cab, with his breath congealing on the glasses, where else was John himselfadvancing to? The thought stirred his imagination, which began to manufacture many thousand pictures, bright and fleeting, like the shapes in a kaleidoscope; and now he saw himself ruddy and comforted, sliding in the gutter; and, again, a little woe-begone, bored urchin tricked forth in crape and weepers, descending this same hill at the foot's-paco of mourning coaches his mother's body just preceding him; and yet again his fancy, running far in front, showed him his destination -now standing solitary in the low sunshine, with the sparrows hopping on the threshhold and the dead man within staring at the roof—and now, with a sudden change, thronged about with white-faced, hand-uplifting neighbors, and doctors bursting through their midst and fixing his stethoscope as he went, the policeman shaking a sagacious head beside the body. It was to this ho feared that he was driving; in the. midst of this he saw himself arrive, heard himself stammer faint explanations, and felt the hand, of the constable upon his shoulder. Heavens! how ho wished he had played the manlier part; how he dtespiged himself that he bad fled that fata^ neighborhood yrb,en. all was q,uie| f and, now even to tho dullest, tho forces of the imagination. And so how as he dwelt on what was probably-awaiting him at the end of MR distressful dvlve—John, who saw things little, vemcmbored them loss, and could hot have described them at all, beheld in his mind's cyo the garden of tho lodge, detailed as in a map; ho Wont to and fro in it, feeding his terrors; he saw the hollies, the snowy borders tho paths whore ho had sought Alan, tho high, conventual walls, tho shut door—what! was tho door shut? Ay, truly, he had shut it—shut in his money, his escape, his future life— shut it with the?o hands, and nono could now open it! Ho heard tho snap of tho spring-lock like something bursting in his brain, and sat astonished. And then he woke again, terror jarring through his vitals. This was no time to bo idle; ho must up and bo doing, he must think. Once at tho end of this ridiculous cruise, once at the Lodge door, there would bo nothing for it but to turn tho cab and trundle buck again. Why, then, go so far? why add another feature of suspicion to a case already so sug- j I'-aivol' why not turn at once? It w.;.-i onsy to say turn; but whither? Ho had nowhere now to go to; ho could never—ho saw it in letters of blood—he could never pay that cab; ho was saddled with that cab forever. Oh, that cab! his soul yearned and burned, and his bowels bounded to be rid of it. Ho forgot all other caves. Ho must Jirst quit himself of this ill- smelling vehicle and of the human boast that guided it—first do that; do that, at least; do that at once. And just then iho cab suddenly stopped, and there was his persecutor rapping on tho front j^luss; John lot it down, and behold tho port wine countenance inllamod with intellectual triumph. "I ken wlui ye are!" cried tho husky voice. "I mind ye now. Yo'ro a Nncholson. I drove ye to Hcrmis- ton to !j Christmas party, andyo came back on tho box, and 1 lot yo drive." It is a fact. John know tho man; they had been even friends. His enemy, ho now remembered, was a fellow oi! great good nature—endless good nature—with a boy; why not-with a man? Why not appeal to his hotter side? He grasped at tho now hope. "Great Scott! and so you did," ho cried, as if in a transport of delight, his voice sounding false in his own cars. "Well, if that's so, I've something to say to you. I'll got out, I guess. Where are wo, any way?" Tho driver had fluttered his ticket in tho eyes of tho branch-toll keeper, and they wore now brought to on the highest and most solitary part of the by-voad. On the loft, a /ow of field- side trees boshttclod it, on the viglit, it was bordered by naked fallows, undulating down hill to the Queousferry road; in front, Corstorphinehill raised Its snow bedabbled, darkling woods against the sky. John looked all about him, drinking' tho clear air like wine; then his oyos returned to tho cabman's face as ho sat, not unglecfully, awaiting John's communication, with tho air of one looking to bo tipped. The features of the face wore hard to read, drink had so swollen them, drink had so painted them in tints that varied from brick red to mulberry. The small gray eyes blinked, tho lips moved, with greed; greed was tho ruling passion; and though there was some good nature-, some genuine kindliness, a true human touch, in tho old toper, his greed was now so sot aliro by hope,that all other traits of character lay dormant. Ho sat there a monument of gluttonous desire. John's hourt slow!;/ fell. Ho had opened his lips, but ho stood thoi'o end uttered nought. He sounded tho well of IUH cuui'ttgo, and it was dry. Ho groped in his treasury of words, tuid it was vacant. A devil of dumbness had him by tho throat; tho devil of terror babbled Inhin ears; and suddenly, without a word uttered, with no conscious purpose formed in his will, John whipped about, tumbled over tho roadside wall, and began running for his life across tho fallows. He had not gono far; ho was not past tho midst of tho first field, when his whole brain thundered within him, "Fool! You have your watch!" The shock stopped him, and ho faced once more toward tho cab, Tho driver was loaning over tho wall, brandishing his whip, his 1'aco empurpled, roaring like a bull. And John saw (or thought) that he had lost the chance. No watch would pacify tho man's resentment now; ho would cry for vengeance, also. John would be had under tho eye of the police; his tale would be unfolded, his secret plumbed, his destiny would close on him at last, and forever. Ho uttered a deep sigh; and just as the cabman, taking heart of grace, was beginning at last to scale the wall, his defaulting customer fell again to running, and disappeared into tho further fields. CHAPTEK VIII. Singular Instance of the Utility of Pass-Keys. Where he ran at first, John never very clearly know; nor yet how long a time elapsed ere he found himself in the by-road near the lodge of Bav- elston, propped against the wall, his lungs heaving like bellows, his legs louden-heavy, his mind possessed by one solo desire—to ' ie down and be unseen. He remembered tho thick coverts round the quarry-hole pond, an untrodden corner of the world where he might suz'oly find concealment till the night should fall. Thither ho passed down the lane; and when Ke came there, behold! ho had forgotten the frost, and the ponA alive with young people ska^ng, the pojod-sido Qovevta weFft lookei-c-oa. it was strange with what angor Jfohrt beheld her. He could have bvokett forth in curses; he cbtild have stood there like a mortified tramp, and shaken his fist and vented hia gall upon her by the hour—or so he thought; and the next moment his heart bled for tho girl. "Poor crea- 1 ture, it's little'she knows!" he sighed. "Let her enjoy herself while she can!" But was it possible, when Flora used to smile at him on tho Braid ponds, she could have looked so fulsome do a sick-hearted bystander? The thought of one quari y, in his frozen wits, suggested another; nnd he plodded off toward Craig Loith. A wind had sprung up out of the northwest; it was cruel, keen, it dried him like a fire and racked his finger joints. It brought clouds, too; pale, swift, hurrying clouds, that blotted heaven and shed gloom upon tho earth. He scrambled tip among' the hazeled rubbish heaps that slir- roimdect the cauldron of tho quarry* and lay flat upon tho stones, The wind searched close along tho earth, tho stones were cutting J,nd icy, the bare hazels walled about him; and soon tho air of tho afternoon began to bo vocal with those strange and dismal harpings that herald snow. Pain and misery turned in John's limbs to a harrowing impatience and blind desire of change; now ho would roll in his harsh lair, and when tho flints abraded him, was almost pleased; now ho would crawl to the edge of tho huge pit and look dizzily down. Ho saw tho spiral of tho descending roadway, the stoop crags, tho clinging bushes, the peppering of snow- wreaths, and far down in tho bottom, tho diminished crane. Hero, no doubt, was a way to end it. But it somehow did not take his fancy. And suddenly ho was aware that he was hungry;ay,oven through the tortures of tho cold, even through the frost of despair, a gross, desperate longing for food, no matter what, no matter how, began to wake and spur him. Suppose he pawned his watchP But no, on Christmas day—tb.is was Christmas day!—tho pawnshop would bo closed. Suppose ho went to the public house close by at Blackball, and offered tho watch, which was worth ton pounds, in paymer-.t for a meal of bread and cheoso? The incongruity was too remarkable; the good folks would either put him to tho door, or only lot him in to send for tho police, lie turned his pockets out one after another; some San Francisco tram-car checks, ono cigar, no lights, tho pass-key to his father's house, a pocket-handkerchief, with just a touch of scent; no, money could bo raised on nono of those., There was nothing for it but to starve; and after fill, what mattered it? That also was a door of exit. He crept close among the bushes, the wind playing around him like a lash, his clothes seemed thin as paper; his joints burned, his skin curdled on his bonca. Ho had a vision of a high-lying cattle-drive in •California, and the bod of' a dried stream with ono muddy pool, by which tho vaquoros had encamped; splendid sun over all, the big bonfire blazing, tho strips of cow browning and smoking on tho skewer of wood; how warm it was, how savory the steam of scorching meat! And then again ho remembered Ma manifold calamities, and burrowed and wallowed in the sense of his disgrace and shame. And next he was entering Frank's restaurant in Montgomery street, San Francisco; ho had ordered a pan stow of vonison chops, of which ho was immoderately fond, and as he- sat waiting, Monroe, tho good af- tcmda'nt,brought him a whisky punch; ho saw the strawberries flout on the delectable cup, ho hoard tho ice chink about tho straws. And then ho woke again to his detested fate, and found himself sitting humped together in a windy combo of quarry refuse—darkness thick about him,thin snow flakes flying here and there like rags of paper, and tho strong shuddorings of his body clashing his teeth like a hiccough. [TO Jill CONTINUED,] A I'';iiii(HlH Lol.tor. The Philadelphia Record says that tho original draft of Rev. Jacob Duche's famous letter to General Washington, dated October 15, 1777. has come to light in a local colleo- tion of valuable documents. Dr. Ducho was an old time rector of Christ church, Philadelphia. At the beginning of tho revolutionary war ho figured as an ardent patriot, but when tho British redcoats marched into Philadelphia and took possession of tho city the alarmed rector suddenly found himself to be a most devoted Royalist. General Washington was then encamped in headquarters in Worcester township, Philadelphia, now Montgomery county, and to him Dr. Duche dispatched a letter, which now in printing takes up nearly eight quarto pages, urging him to 'return to the bosom of good King George. Washington immediately directed the epistle to congress as "a letter of a very curious and extraordinary nature." A. liouii Soul. Wool—Bronson's dead wife was a good soul. Did he show you that memorandum she wrote when she could not speak P Van Pelt—No; what was it? Wool—It ran this way: "Dear Jack, your collar button is in the bureau drawer, back left-hand corner. Don't lopk for that horrid red and green neck tie; J burned it up."— Truth. " TobJK'tp uutl To;» iu Kujfluud. Tobac'co^csonsuniption is incvoasing in Great Britain. .For the past year arera|red am and six-tenths pounds of' the populatic tesfmma*!,

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