Tflfi CTPEB BBSS AftlBU! have ft heatt of fire ami Bold- No* KOld aor Rt6 for me is tt IWI would forget those day* of old. • Whteft seemed to show y ow heitrt iJot mine to ftts &nwms the crowd Who wo?flftip you. and bend thfli Ictiee, TO si«(? you* ttratses lon« and loud— Lovtfs silence is reserved for me. Afv love, that is both dtnttt) fttid deep, is freely «tven tw 'Us tt-ua; What secret still the fates may .icecp 1 know not—but I say, adieu. J say adieu because my part Most be to leave that whirling tram. 'Where'every moment is a smart And every day a year, of pnm. —Longman s Magazine. ,SOARLET FORTUNE, upon Bt M. 'CHAPTER III—CoxTtNuKD. •"Yew'll tell on us!"' he hissed "'YewMl raise the plains agin us "Yew'li tell on yowr father and yew cousin?" , . , His hand twitched convulsively .and assumed the shape ot a wile bird's-claws. His head shrank down his, shoulders and his whole ttedno'quiver with fury. Ho made a panting step towards his daughter. "Yow'll raise the plains agin us, would yew? Yew'd have us lynched ? Would yew? Yew'd have us hanged. Would yew? Waal. I aint so darna- 1,ion sartin " His rage stopped his speech; he seemed to foam at the mouth, and stretched out an arm as if in command to his nephew. Lucy, stood there,solemn and queen- like as before. Her faco shone in the moonlight with a white and brilliant s -iory, and the younger ruffian bowed his head before her glance. "I'll do all that, dad." she said. *-ITl do it all. I ain't afraid o' yew. Yew daren't kill me as yew killed him." , ., . . George Maclane raised both his arras above his head and clenched his fists. Ho drew up his long gaunt figure until he stood on tiptoe. Then he opened his hands and stretched out his bony fingers. In the meantime his face was alive with muscular distortions; his teeth were clenched hard, and his thin lips were drawn out full. Ho made several conyulsive •efforts toward his daughter, his long arms waving wildly, until at last with a cry that seemed to make the m"ht,hOT.rible;-.he.uMished ..upon -the girl and caught her by the shoulder. A slight sound of pain escaped her •as the tender flesh was bruised by the brutal contact, but, she stood .still, and looked him straight in the face, eye to eye. The murderer shrank before that brave glance, and his wretched purpose trickled from him and left him a foaming coward, as he met his child's-calm-gaze. His fingers- loosened slowly, and his arm dropped by his side. With heaving breast, and clawing his head with his long nails, ho retreated a step or two, and the pent-up savagery in his breast found an outlet in nearly hysterical sobs. "I reckon yew know what ycw'rc thrcatenin'," Uavo said quietly. Ho was no less infuriated than his uncle, but. ho know better how to suppress his rage. "If this man is ''lowed to live, tho Jirst thing ho'll do on gcttin to the plains will bo to denounce us, "and I don't see as it's much better to bo told on by him than by yew." Lucy stooped down and knelt by •Chauncoy's side. Her dainty fingers trttveloft over his wounded and blood- bcsmcared face, and gently brushed tho gore-clotted hair from his battered forehead. ••It'll bo weeks and weeks," sho said, "afore ho can move. Yew can get sacks of gold from heyar, an' be off away cast long afore he can say a word agin yew. I'll stay behind and boo it, all out when yow'ro gone." She rose and walked to the water's edge, and dipped her handkerchief in 1ho cool rushing stream; then sho returned and began to moisten the suf- .forer's face. The elder Maclane stood by grim .and voiceless. "Let her have her way, George, Dave said quietly, "i guess It'll be best to let her have her way." The tall frontiersman cast one sav- .age glance at his daughter, then turned on his heel and strode away. tvd kindly and straight And handsome ran aWflete-ofh«totti times. Eleven o'clock had already struck-. ie beautiful June morning, and ,ady Evelyne Wyntor, only datigli- er of the marquis and marchioness of Gwendale, was still tossing »leep- essly on her down pU}°«s. vine golden day was peering gaily througn a little chink of the drawn curtains. and a bright streak of opal light foil upon the lady's fucc. as she turned and rolled, throwing oft the blue satin, quilted coverlet, which fell upon the Aubusson carpet, and loft. her in all the white glory of the rich lace that enveloped her rounded limbs. Yawning like meaner mortals, she stretched a pair of creamy, velvety arms, and locked her dainty finders above her head, adding a second frame to the handsome face, which was already surrounded by her wealth of glossy brown, silken hair. One rosy foot was peeping shyly from beneath the clinging half-transparent fabric, the big grey-blue dreamy eves, were gazing into vacancy, and a sigh, barely audible, but still distinct: ;an,d-;untnist,akable escaped from my lady's lips. The fact was that Lady Evelyn was perplexed. Conflicting curreuts of thought agitated her ordinarily so , s_j '|'U««» Viiirl han- Aran^JOWA. WEDNESDAY, **** l '' l ' M ''*"' B ** < '*** l ''' IMg ^^^ ' fcye'iyne held out a pair of pleading avttteV anll^ffib "old lady approached " i u i . •*..-._-, 1. -^ *' ^L ^iV. A.ml* A TKEMBHION LETTER calm and even mind. They had ban CHAPTER IV. During the height of the season of ]8fiO, London society was moved with pleasurable excitement, by one of those occurrences, which make voal life more sensational than llo- tion. The aged carl of Clove had died in the course of the previous year. His two oldest eons had been killed in a terrible railway accident, the old nobleman, thoroughly prostrated by the shock, was soon laid by their side in the vault at Chauncey Tow• ers. The earl's youngest son, the Honorable Herbert Cluiunccy, had succeeded to the estates of his forefathers, taut the young' man hud gone abroad some years previously, and liis family had boon left without tidings from him for some time. It was only after a prolonged and difficult search that he was discovered leading a nomadic life on the Northwest• ern prairies. He was recognized beyond possibility of a doubt, but he '.had, in a murderous confiict.of which ho had no recollection, received some terrible wounds on the head, and had lost the faculty of memory. The past was a blank to him. lie had no remembrance when ho came to the West, whore ho was wounded, by whom or under what ciroum- *:stauc:os. He could not oven compel his mind to unburclon itself of some •of tho common secrets of his earlier life. He had no remembrance of •father, mother, brother, nor of his • own boyhood. With all that, so said report, ho * was a cheerful, bHthe and pleasant fellow, ejftyemely intelligent ishcd sleep from her couch, and had left her weary and nearly distressed. Lady Evelyne Wynter had, for nearly a month already, boon cn- to be married to Mr. David Maclane, a young American gentleman, of reputed immense wealth. The young man was one of the lions of the season, and Lady Evelyne Wynter. whose twenty-six summers had warned her that it was time to look about for a husband, had taken a rather morbid pride in Securing, as her prize, the sensational hero of the year. The daily papers, ana the weeklies too, for that, had described the young Westerner with a fervent eulogy and a graphic picturesqueness which would not have been . out ol place in telling tho .'story of a god of mythology. He. Was ..the hero of. a hundred fights, and as- many.-~-hair- broadth escapes, and, like- : ••all heroes. he was as gentle ho was brave and strong. In these very words, that fashionable journal. "Albert Gate" had described young Maclane, and if the writers on "Albert Gate" were not in a position to know everything of everybody, who was? I am inclined to doubt that such a thing as a real serious attachment was "at all in the nature of Lady Evelyne Wynter. But she had been very'fond, in fact, fonder than she herself imagined sho could have been, of Herbert Chaunccy. • He was barely two years her senior, and they had known' each other since childhood. As a boy, at Eton, he had spent his pocket money in buying her bouquets, and she remembered well how proud she was of him, when, as the captain of tho eleven of his school, us vanquished Harrow. Lady Evelyne had returned home | from a ball with the broad summer | day, and had not been able to banish , Herbert's revived memory from her j mind. Sho babbled about him while | her maid undressed her; sho found the subject more interesting while the girl brushed her hair: and when the young woman was dismissed, and Lady Evolync was left by herself to dream of fancies, Herbert Chauncey's picture would persistently intrude itself upon her not unwilling mental eyes. During the first quarter of an hour, or so, she thought tho freshly called-up reminiscences very nice, Herbcit had been a sweetheart—one of the many moths that had fluttered round her brilliant light. Now ho was back, and sho would see. him again, and as ho was an earl, and, doubtless, unmarried, they would bo able to speak freely together. It was then' that Lady Evelyne remembered that sho was engaged to Mr. David Maclano, and, for tho first time, sho considered that engagement rather a bore. It would bo vory nice to bo the wife of a millionaire hero, but—Countess of Clove- there was a peculiar stirring Anglo- Saxon ring of dignity and unutterable pride about that, by tho side of which the parvenuo gold was decidedly vulgar and despicable. And, perhaps--who knows—might she not bo Countess of < 'love, for the asking —aye, even without tho asking? Lady Evolyno was lying drowsily, moving one hand about the streak of golden sunlight that broke into " tho room, and playing with tho scintillating atoms that danced in it, when tho door «f the chamber opened and l.a-ly Gwondalo appeared upon the threshold, followed by Evelyn's maid. She was a stately personage, whoso iron- grey hair sat well against a kindly face. - "My childl my child:" she exclaimed. "Do you know that it is past 11 o'clock." "Well, ma," replied Lady Evelyno languidly, "what of it?" her daughter, who drew her mother's face to her own and kissed .it affectionately. , . . . • ; "No, ma, dear." she whispered. '•I'm not ill. butl do not want to go out. I want to stay at home and think" Lady Gwendale's temporary anxiety changed to amazement. That her volatile daughter should desire to think, no matter what the subject, wapiti itself an anomaly, but ttie tone injwhich the wish was expressed, the tender plead itig of tho voice for apparently so trivial a cause, told my lady—-a shrewd, experienced woman o'f the world—that something was not altogether as it should have been With her child. A moment s reflection guided her on the right track for the solution of the problem, "I know what troubles you, my dear," she said. "At least I think do. Herbert has returned to England, and you have boon thinking 1 of him." •' The young lady's eyes brightened-, she took-he'r mother's 1 plump ham between her own soft fingers am stroked it caressingly. Her _eyelids dropped drearaingly for an instant then she looked Lady Gwendal straight in the face, and smile dimpling her cheeks, her head twice or thrice. ••I thought so," the old lady ex claimed, with a suppressed sigh Hea11y, my dear Evelyne, you mus become a little more settled in you intentions and decisions. You are now engaged to Mr. Maclane, and it can make vory little difference to you whether young Clove has returned or not." Lady Evelyno pursed her lips. "But ma," sho whimpered, "it does make a difference. Herbert and I were engaged to one another once, '(tlie young lady raised her- NEW YORK MECCA BECOMING OF MODES THIS cd to satin and ha* ,-»,WaoU<iJiwsct»ea* erie finish. A pretty gown recently, wotm ».T » rl of 14 .was of yollow crepott vith a silk polka, dot. Tho skirt of one length in the back had a yoke front, to which thiv. lo\v.«r, pnvt was Aiul in Uii SfcyU* of this World—ao*»»m*K Voting UlrU—Ml*cell»nemu Aolu* tho Modes. for nf with a noddec ALUMINUM. self and threw bo.th arms around her mother's nock) "you know he is now the earl of Cleve." . ' "Herbert is certainly in a bettor position now than when he left England." Lady .Gwendale admitted, gently 'disengaging- h'ers'qlt -from ,h<?i riaiio-hf.nr's embrace, "and I havi (New York Fashion Letter.1 N PA HIS. THAT Mecca of the mod ish. that, paradise of the fashionable the stage sets th style in corrcc and artistic dress as it is the flna arbiter In nic points of socii etiquette and the interpreter of the best spoken language of the day. And, indeed, 'Now York is following the. long-re.eogim.-d ' ' matters ver/ closely, and the day mny come when the American metropolis shall wield the scepter in originality in dross, as it now bears the palm for the most artistic adaptability and rca.li/.ation of the Parisian ideas. New York- women arc the best-dressed women in the world, according to many authorities, because of their more delicate and conservative taste. The Parisian woman wears the novelty in all its crudeness. The New York woman modifies it and betters it every time. ' And it has become quite the custom for modistes m Gotham, following the Parisian idea, to be eager purchasers of first night seats whenever a. new society play is U be given at one of our leading theaters because here, as in Paris, the ncwes and most artistic dress ideas are sur to have their possibilities realized the women behind the footlights,whos one aim in life is to have gowns tha, arc not stagy, but might be. worn i any drawing room in the town. Children's dresses always occupy large space in the fashion chronicle because more dresses fo have no doubt, that many ladies with marriageable "daughters will con-side i him a desirable son-in-law. As to myself, I must decline forming an opinion on the subject till I have seen the young man." "But you will form an opinion, won't you, ma, when you have seen him?"' the young lady suggested again drooping her eyes and stroking her mother's hand with her own, "and if that opinion is favorable ." Tho little fingers wandered nervously over ray lady's palm, and the grey blue eyes danced with a pretty glitter. "If that opinion is really favorable," Evelyno repeated with a, captivating emphasis, and the daintj t.ngers travelled forwards and backwards, whilst she sought in her mind an expression which did not readily present itself to her tongue, "don't you think countess of Clcvo a prettier name that Lady Evelyno Wynter?" Lady Gwendale's reply was solemn and ceremonious— "My child!" sho exclaimed, "you can bear no better name than your own." "I did not mean that, ma," pleaded Lady Evelyne. "I meant that if I married Mr. Maclano I should still bo Lady Evelyno Wynter, but if I married Herbert I should be the countess of Cleve." "You really must not think of such a thing, my dear," Lady Gwondale remonstrated. "You are. engaged to Mr. Machine, and your father and I both consider it a desirable ongago- mcno. You are well aware we had sufficient reasons for closing our doors upon young Chnuncoy, and I have learned nothing 1 which would induce me to alter my opinion or in| tontions on the subject. Come, now! brush the matter from your mind. Think no more about it." [TO HK CONTINUKD.] and rightly, little girls are made in the house undc livred',. beneath a trimming of golden rowtt vclwt. A dress ot golden brow n ora. girl of 10 or 13 had a rimming of sapphire-shaded velvet t . nt Mm cnslimere. with While- nd irwtties of the"cashmeres with a belt of the velvet tied on one side, nctue tiny maid of tt or S the Thanka.- wown was made of rosa pi»* "the ttttcd rcvers flared, but not gathered, and trimmed with a half-inch mtin ribbon edged on each edge \vit,» black velvet. The trimming- crosses the little straight waist both at the front and back, and has a, belt, wit I rosettes ou each side of the re.vers »n*« , of the belt made of black velvet. Arothorgown was of ivory-whit« satin, with a decoration trt black velvet and old lace arranged.in a particularly becoming ' fashion for ladies not quite as tull as they could wish to be. \notheivgown of changeable moir* that iplu-ht be. called opaline, so varied. What of it, my dear?" was Lady Gwendale's remonstrance. "What of it? How can you bo so forgetful. The duchess' garden-party commences at 2, and you have arranged to sit to Delauria at 1 •>. That portrait of yours will never bo finished." "i will not go to Delauria's today," Lady Kvelyno answered pout- ingly, "and I'm not so sure that 1 shall go to the garden-party." Tho maid had, in tho meantime and tho <;iiiuo:i I owls us 1'oultry rroteulorx. That noisy, quarrelsome bird, tho guinea fowl," with its voracious appetite and destruetivonoss of flower and kitchen gardens, would not, on general principles, seem to bo a profitable bird for tho poultry yard. It is so indifferent a parent that its young have usually to bo hatched out and reared by a foster mother in tho shape of a hen turkey. It was with surprise, therefore, that a New Yorker summering in the town of Monroe, Maine, discovered that the farmers of that region commonly kept a pair or more of guinea fowls among their other poultry. This was done for the purpose of keeping away the hawks, tho boldest of which would not venture to swoop down upon a yard of which any of those I mottled, round-bodied, helmet-headed i fowl were tenants. Whether it is ' their belligerent appearance, or I strident cry, or manifest readiness I to fight that daunts tho hawk, cer- I tain it is that whenever one o! these ! aei'Jul pirates, reconnoitorinu 1 the farmyard from on high, comes earthward in swift, narrowing circles, it needs only tho loud squawk and bristling defiance of tho guinea fowl to cau.se him suddenly to remember an engagement in the next township, and to scud Jam scurrying oft' in haste.—-New York Sun. for tin- direction of tho mothers than the elders. Now. the first thing to be remembered in the making ot children's gowns is that the little maul of ,; wears the longest guwn. duito to her shoe tops anil are not high. The girl of Hi wears a dress of iibout the same length, the maid of M one two inches .shorter, ami the dress shortens as the years lessen until the little maid between -1 reaches tin- shoes ami wears a dress quite coverin»- her luu-es and di'lu:ati-ly shadrd wen- its tints, was trimmed with black mom- ribbon and chltton changeable like the gown, with rcvers of old lace. The. entire waist was of the chiffon, gathered to u bc.lt. Still another gown was of pale- blue tissue, draped on the hips anil plaited full in front, Tho collar was of white satin, edged with exquisite open patterned and wired jet passe- menterie. The secret: of making a ..-own from pictured models is to take, here a little and there a little, combining all harmoniously: for gowns, like prescriptions of medicine, need to lie prepared after a personal diagnosis, and' cannot be made up like overcoats, in job lots all from tin- same pattern. 1* ttttHfe Uisfrtl trt th* '-»&o»<l ftooftrtif MttMtfiafi Aluminnmvwhich of itself posseS- ses a high, degree of specific heat- does not, wadily absorb heat itself, and thus is iM>t liable to the chief. objection to iron buildings in hot. countries. But apart from the light* decorative' purposes, such as balconies, cupolas, ftnials and verandas, it is as a roofing material that alitnv- inum should, be most welcome to tho builder.. In plates or scales two- thirds lighter than copper, undoi- rodedby aiv-, and undimmed even by the sulphur of London smoke, it should, make a roof tit for a palace of romance, says the Spectator. The- humbler elements of heaitn and comfort in the house, hardly less important than its external defenses against the weather—pipes, cisterns, taps, and gutters, now made of, iron which mists or lead which poist* is— would be more enduring and far more healthy if made of this light* and sleaoJiy metal, which might also take ho-place of all water folding vessel* now made of heavy; brittle earthenware or painted tin. An aluminum bath is among tho probable luxuries of. the next century. But it.is not as a mere acossory to comfort and convenience that real development of bho- new metal should lie, It is for use at sea that its most marked qual* iiiiy of lightness obviously fits. The marine engineer and the naval architect, who are already looking in this direction for a reduction in the weight which is inseparable from a loss of efficiency, whether in speed or cargo, cannot neglect the possibilities of a me-tal which, when mixed in the proportion of 1 to 50, o-ives to aluminium bronze a hardness and toughness which make it almost as reliable as steeUand which, ithe proportions could.be reversed and strength preserved,wonId reduce tho weight of ship and machinery alike by two-third'* That is a problem which awiOU tVw metallurgist* for "salttti&tt. 'The reduction in cost,. judgSpg.from analogy, can only be a qvve*rUoii of time and research. -• The best steel now costs little more than half.a penny a pound, svhila. the aluminum is fifty times, price. But aluminum exists in o-roater quantities than iron,, ia widely distributed, an,i\. .'neither- tha limits of. tfino "no'i- the history of metallurgy forbid us to conjecture that, as the world has soon ita aga 6f stone, its age of bronze and its aga of iron, so it may before long have embarked on a new and even mora prosperous era—the ago of alumm-^ ">»• _.. & Machine Holt* of t'uper. Paper bolting for the -purpose of transmitting power is tho next thing 1 which is going to astonish tho manufacturing fraternity. Tho inventor was five years assistant to the superintendent of power of one of the great factories in Lowell, Mass. .ft was while in this position, in which he had much to do with lacing and tightening bolts, that, ho conceived the idea that bolting made of papor could bo made to do better work than either leather, rubber or cotton. Ho argued that, as a thick pioco of pasteboard can bo made to take on a firm, smooth and durable sdrfaca by holding tho same against another moving surface for several minutes, a larger piece ot papor inado in the form .of a.belt and permitted to run upon the surface of a pulley day after day would soon create upon its surface a lirra, hard, shiny coaling that would last a long time. In making tho bolt links made from papor pulp are used. As soon as a belt is put into working order a hard, shining coat appears upon the surface next the pulleys, and this becomes harder and harder as the months slip by. it bo- comes so hard finally that only a cold chisel can cut into it. Such a surface works well on tho pulleys.— Now York Telegram. far Dui'ii U<>"' II« Atu Them. >• a trial in Now York a hangings within, streamed all over tljoToom, Lady Evelyno • closed her ovc» again, whilst her mother hold up her hands in auiaxouiont. "Not go to the garden-partyP' sho exclaimed with a nonplussed air. ••Not go to the garden-party!" Why, what lias happened? Vou a, ill, i hope?" wit- lace | ness was examined regarding a cer: tain dinner of fried oysters, in which tho defendant participated. "Did tho defendant seize upon, them with avidity?'' inquired the counbol. "No, sir,"- answered the \yitness, -lie chucked ,tljeni B el's ightiM i in the French fashion. A prettj model is shown in the Wrst illustration to be carried out with navy blue cam haJi' and cardinal cashmere, th of the red being 1 put on • with black and gold braid, w , ,'iuff little gold but tons where. the v tripes ot ml are U-.tmtotlie sleeve tops and dowu the shoulder yearns. The dress i.-loi,cs> ou the shoulder and under tho arm. uud thp back ih like the fro^t. One o£ tto prctt«*t Unity ««t»i A>«f»i><lii HuntoU. Mrs. rievelawl and Mrs. llissell at- endt-d, accompanied by Miss I tilth 'levi-hind and Miss Marguerite Ilissell, Kith vouiitf ladies about tins same age. .'he little tftrls \vr.n> of course do- but unfortunately both took a to the same doll-one that by g a spring would say ••Mamma." The doll was hundi-d to Uuth by the udy in charge and iinau-diately Mai" ucritv, wanted it, Uuth, to escape the pressing importunities of Marguerite for possession of the. doll, ran into in adjoining room. Marguerite followed and overtook .Kuth. Little JM iss rabbed the doll, whereupon little Miss Cleveland released her hold upon the cherished toy and grasped her torment or. ___________ Jiulj-s for Women. It 5s said that by adding a little borax to the rinsing water ami drying in the shade, red tablecloths will Ice their color. A drunkard is unreliable, aim it girl doesn't Had it out befoi-i- muvriuga she will afterward if she marries drink lug 1 man. The young lady who is not a gooc cook ciin not bpast of a finished educa tiou uo matter what may b« her uttuii ui u literary way- , wll ° presided ovei thu W, (.'. T. I'ouvcatioM at Chicago tow A flu r l,»okJnjf » l; .HUM. The result of six months' observation of Mars have led astronomers at the l-ick observatory to the conclusion—contrary to tho generally re- f.sived views—that the dark portions of the disk represent land and the light portions water. This is supported by observations of San Francisco bav from Mount Hamilton in which the bay appears brighter than the neighboring valley and mountains at the samo distance. On this hypothesis tho "canals" would correspond to ridges of mountains almost wholly immersed in water, hile their doubling may represent arallel ridges, of which our own arth furnishes examples. Tlio .VciiiMiuu ;ins. 'ho Acarnanlans were, considered he. most skillful shngevs of Greece. 'huso weapons were used not only to hrow stones, but balls of lead, and u some localities, especially in the tin of Marathon, many of these ne.lal projectiles have boon found. 1'ho relics aro interesting- from the nsi:ription:* and devices cut upou them, which consist of the names of persons and appropriate epithets, Uio egoud in niuuy cases meaning fullv translated, "Look out." wheu h Dii'vulu'M I'oiSUS )ak»la nas «VU Soiilh South Dakota 'nas 51,000 farms, valued at $70,01)11.01)0. on which urn raised 17.0..HM);)i) bushels of wheat. and .^.OOIUMMI ot i-orn and various other cereals. The wild grasses yield 1, MO. 000 tons of hay and .tho wool clip exceeds 0,00(1,001.) pounds. The Hill Black r mines havo'yiolded^r. ),oiKU> Hi uf gold and silver. «»uu WXv. . ,' Mrs. Hardy, boaidiug hou»i> ki-'euoi' —i wish 1 could got rid of thai young mau who is auuoyinj- uiy daughter with his attentions. , - «• »Alv v Wils.ua, boarder,~,.\y bj.^ no! Ms to "
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