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Is PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, And dispatched to subscribers by the earliest Inails,ur other conveyance, when so desired. The YORK HERALD will always be found to contain lhulatestand most impOI‘taanoreign and Provincial News and Markets, and the greatest care will be taken to render it ac- ceptable to the man ofbusiness,and a valu- able Family Newspaper. TERMSIâ€"One Dullar per annum. IN A!)- VANLE; if notpaid within Two Months, One Dollar and Fifty cents will be charged. Allieuer addressed to the Editor must be punt-paid. Nopaper discontinued until all arrearagos are paid: and pulliem‘efusing papers \viihout puying up, will be held ucuountable for the subscription. 5i): lines and under. first I Insertion. . . . $00 5“ Each subsequent insertion . . . . . . .. . . . . ()0 l3 'i‘en lines and under, firsunserlion. . .. 00 75 Each subsequent Insertion” . . . . . . . . . . . ()0 ’20 Above ten hues. firs! insertion, per line. 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Surgery and Midwifery. All calls. (night or day) promptly attended to. Mr. H . Burket is authorised to collect, and give receipts for him. Richmond Hill, June. 1565 1 ‘VILL H1 Lily be founl at home befole half-past 8 am. and from 1 lo ‘2 p m. All parties owing Dr. J. Langstaffare expecl~ ed to call and pay promptly, as he has pay- ments now that must be met. Cunsullaliolnsill the office on the mornings M" 'I‘uesdavs. Thulsday: and Saturdays. 8 to h) a. m. LLE’AH consultations in the office, 2388; OF YONGE AND CDLBUHNE STS., DRUGS, M EDICINES, By Royal Letters patently has been appointed Issuer or FHA RM A CEUTI ST, DI. TE E F Y, Esq-a NOTARY PUB L10, J‘JMMISSIONER IN THEQUEEN’S BENCH, CONVEYANCER. AND DIVISION COURT AGENT, RICHMOND HILL POST OFFICE. ‘ GREEM ENTS, Bonds, Deeds, Mortgages. L Wills, &c , drawn wxlh attention mud prompLiLude, 'l'crlns moderate. ONVEYA NOEI£,;Z (kc. OEFICEâ€"Ovel‘ the Gas Company office Toronto Street, Toronto. Toronto. August 1, 1867. OFFXCEâ€"-â€"In the “York Herald” Buildings, iichmond Hill. Money to Lend. July, 5th, 1866. my ‘ GEO. B. NICOL, BARRISTER, A TTORNEY-A T-LA W, Elgin Mills, October 5. 1866 Barristers and Attorneys at Law, Solicitors in Chancery, CONVEYANUERS, &c. 0FFICE~ In the Court House, . .TORONTO August 1, 1866. 59 RATES OF ADV Ell'l‘lb‘ING. Richmond Hill, Jan. 3], 1867 BARRISTER AT LAW, l'horuhill. June 9, 1865 Thornhill, Feb. 1'6. 1868 READ AND BOYD, Barristers, Attorneys at Lam SOLECITURS 1N CHANCERY. &c., 77, King Street East, (over Thompson’s East India House) Richmond Hill, June 9.18b5 13115111255 wirectnrg. DRUGGIST,‘ D. B. READ, Q.C. May 6, 186‘. GROCERIES, Wines 'and Liquors, THORNHILL. CONVEYANCER, &c., 650., &c. MARRIAGE LICENSES. DR. JAS. LANGSTAFF MONA'BB, MURRAY & JACKES, JOHN N. REID, 1VI.D-, THOMAS CARR, flaw QEarha. RICHMOND HILL. SOLICI'I‘OR IN CHANCERY, Toronto. J. N. BLAKE, 'I‘HOJ’NH IL L AN D J. A. BOYD, s 40-“ STRONG, EDGAR a GRAHAME, BARRISTERS AND SOLICITORS s. u. STRONG. J. u. EDU Toronto, June 18. 1868‘ On: 1 mesâ€"VVe Hi n g‘u Toronto. lJ Lies of York a Aac0u\.ts,&c. Sn Luskev, March Sales attended on the SIM moderate rates. P.0. Addre Markham, Jany 24, 1868. FRANCIS BUTTON, JR. LICENSED AUCTIONEER, LICE fl Vaughan All orders left Richmond Hill, amended lo. jj‘ORLhe Counties of York, l’eehmd On- tario. Residence: Lot 8, 6th concess‘on Markham. Past 0 fliceâ€"Uu'wnville. Sa1es amended on the shortesk notice, and on reasonable corms. Orders Iaflat the " Herald" office for Mr Carter‘s servicus wiil be promptly attended to J1)l\e.2'i. 1:567. EDW. SANDERSON, Licensed Auctioneer, JOHN CARTER, LICENSED AUC'I‘IONEER, DAVID EYER. Jun, Slave & Shingle Manufacturer LUMBER MERCHANT, ALL KINDS OF Building Materials Supplied ! Post Office uddross,Yu1-kvil\e. Toronto, May 18,1868. 3.11). 1 ESlI)E"CEâ€"Lpt :26. 2nd Con. Markham : on tha Elgin Mills Plank Road. Alargo Stuck ol'SI'Avrcs and SHINGLES. kept constamly on hand.andsold at the lowesL Prices [II-j” Cu“ and exmuiueStock before purchas- ilgulsewhure. [’osl Olfice Addressâ€"Richmond Hill. Doors, Sash, Flooring NEW SERIES. THOMAS SEDMAN, Carriage and Waggon Maker! UNDER TAKEN, dim. JAMES BOWMAN, Issuer of Marriage Licenses, ALMIRA MILLS, ilesidenceâ€"Nearly opposite the Post Office Richmond Hill. Markham. Nov. 1, 1865 Riugwood JVIm'ble W’or :3 P. WLDEMAN, MONUMENTS, HEA “STONES ! &c. &c. &c. Ca“ and examine my Stock and Prices be- fm purchasing elsewhere, as you will find it (0 your interest. U1? Issuer of flflzrriagc Licenses. ingwood. Sew. 13, 1867 . 479 SEAFCRTH} c Julw7,1805- ‘ Vaughan, ()Izt Farmer’s Boot & shoe Store BOOTS & SHOES, AND BUILDER, 618 Yonge Street, Toronto ICENSED AU(_1 38 West. Market Square. Toronto [[3’ Boots and Shoes made to Measure. of the Best Malerials and Workmanship, at the Lowest Remunerating l’tices. Toronto, Dec, 3. 1867. 490-1! Vol.1 1X, N0” 27. REIDEN‘CE, Log COUNTIES OF YORK iczusch ‘AuEtiouwrs. June 1865 Manufacturer and Dealer in all kinds of RICHMONDVHILL AND YONGE ST. GENERAL ADVERTISER. H. D. BENNETT; ENSED AUCTIONEER, COUNTY OF YORK- FOR THE C 0 U N T Y 0 F HENRY SMELSO R, MANUFACTURER OF ALL KINDS P. A. SCOTT, JOHN BARRON, t AU C’l‘lONEEK for the coun- k and Peel, Colluctor of Notes. Sum” charges and plenty to do 'ch 2nd 1565 39â€"1 J. 1). EDGAR- jPostVdfiilggAddr'sss (larville, at the "' York Herald” ofiice‘ or at the KO. Maple, will be Mouldings ch‘ ‘ton Chambers, Jordon St 10 1867 FOR THE FOR THE OF YORK 1e Shortest notice at Address, Buttonville. No. 14. 2nd 99.1. AND PEEL. Blinds, R. GRAHAME Sheeting, 497 l-tf , and 22 A sick dog isn’t generally strengthened by a. course of bark. Many a. person, who talks of'laying down his life, had much better elevate it. A woman might let her head he cut off for her husband’s sake, but not her hair. Cleveland is to have an hospital for “wo- men who have become disgusted with their husbands.” A poet seldom feels at home in a, ball- room. He cannot exchange the music of the spheres for that of fiddlers. What is that which Adam never saw, never possessed, and yet he gave to each of his children ?â€"â€"Pm'euts. Lord Arthur Clinton has been indulg- ing himself lately 111 taking to the London theatres a. number of women dressed up as men. A certain landlady, it is said, makes her pies so light that her lodgers can see to go to bed without a candle after eating a moderatesized piece. A young man advertises in a. New Jersey paper for a situatiuu as a son-iu-law in a respectable fami'ly. Would have no objec- tion, he said, to go a. short distance into the country. The soul finds its reflection in out be- haviour, and we can read its inclination and disgust as legiblv in our actions, as physi- cians the. state of the body by the beating of the puke. Dr. Cumming in a speech last week, said he believed that “ nothing would please the Pope better than to gather all the reporters and writers for the press into a. bundle and bum them in the flames.” Every young man hasa fine season in his life when he will accept no office. and every young woman has the same in hers, when she will accept no husband; by and by they both change, and often take one anotherimo the bargain. 011! should you meet my Doris sweet, You’ll own a queen on earth is seen; All cheerful bend beneath her sway, Aud e’en her slightest word obey. Be courteous 0t gesture. and affable to all men, with diversity of reverence ac- cording to the dignity of the person. There is nothing that winneth SO much with so little cost. He who endeavors to please, must appear plased ; and he would not; pro- voke rudeness must not practise it. A mystery, Which should you try To solve, this is the reason why: My love is meek, she n’er doth seek Her will to gain, nor e’er gives pain, But gentle as the turtle-dove, She wooes and wins all hearts to love. There never was, nor e’er will be, A maiden fair and good as she, So gentle as my Doris. My Doris’ eyes are like the skies, So deeply blue so tender true 3 And yet they shine and sparkle brightâ€"â€" The stars in heav’n give not such light. . A mystery, Which should you try To solve, this is the reason why: The Dundas Banner, the other day, re- presented the canal bridge at Burlington Heights,as likely to give way at any moment. The Spectator considers the bridge in a very bad state, but does not know who is responsible. The Canal Company was fined by the Government a year ago, but to no efiect. The bridge is in the Hamilton cor- poration. but it seems the city is not liable for repairs. Another action at law is proba- ble, if the bridge will stand long enough for that to be done. My love is wise, from her sweet eyes N0 anger darts. Her glance imparls Such life and joy to all aronnd, One thinks that heaven on earth is fun There never was, nor e’er will be, A maiden fair and good as she, So gentle as my Doris. Her voice, so clear, fails on the ear Like rippling tune of brook in June; A11 wait, to hear her voice again, Like long’d for drops of summer rain A mystery, Which Should you try To solve, this is the reason why: From Doris’ lips there never slips An angry word. But. like the bird That sweetest sings ’neath night’s dark A mystery, You need not try To solve. And I will tell you why This Doris fair, beyond compare, IS mine aloneâ€"her heart’s my own-â€" And, though she kindly smiles on thee, Her love is only givun to me. l‘llel'e never w; 3. nor e’er will be, FIRE AT TRENTON.â€"TRENT0N, Dec. 1.â€" At about six o’clock this evening, a fire broke out in the fancy store of Mrs. Weeks, which threatened at one time to consume the whole business part of the village. It spread rapidly to the store adjoining on either sideâ€"one occupied by Reeves & Me Clure, and the other vacant; also a cottage on the same side, were totally destroyed. On the opposite side of the street. Messrs. Jefl's & Hume, dry goods store, audablaek smithshop, were partly destroyed. Messrs. Jeff's & Hume, are partially insured. One man was severely injured by the falling of a building, and some others slightly. sky. More sweet her words when sorrow's nigh There never was, nor e’ei' wih be, A maiden half so kind as she, So kind as is my Doris. They say Love’s blind, yet I’m inclined To think none be so fair as she, And but one kiss by Doris given, Tempts me to think I am in heaven. MY DORIS. Gimme K‘ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us than Popular Opinion.” RICHMOND HILL, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1868. found IN TWO CHAPTERSâ€" CHAP. n. (Concluded from our last.) When the sound had died away in me distance, the major drew back from the window and let llie blind fall inlo ils plac . He sighed deeply and sat down rm the nearest chair. He was verippale and very grave and lookeddike a man on whom had fallen lhéisud- den shock of ill news. _‘;Greal Heaven, 10 think that it shoifld in- decd be so !’ he murmured. Al'ler that he shaved and dresée‘ went out {or a walk, slm same deep gravity of manne him. All that day, and for the U0 ful- iowing days. Major Gregson ' 1y stirred out of his rooms, to take a quiet waik early {r the morning or late in the e ning, when there Was little ch' meeting any of his acquain noes. His mind was evidently it] ease; f the over tater. spoke no word to any on‘ secret care that was broodi him. The third night he '- 1 than usual writing b’usilv. When he had fitted three sides of sheet 01 toolscap, he read‘over “that he had written and signed it. Then he folded up the donumefit in a large sheet. and sealed it. ca‘sfefuily, and wmte outside : ‘ To bebpened in case of mg}. death opt" 29th, instant,’ " ‘ In case I should not come back alive, I have 1ch in my desk a stale- mem of my reasons! lur (10le as l purpose to do; for I would not have n mougm that [engered on [his ex- pednion rashly, or without much prayerful enlreaty that my darkness might be lighlened. Though dark my path and tempest never cease, Let me but; touch t'hy hand and all is peace. ‘To tea-l a chapter 01 llle Haly Living and Dying, and then m use luau I vvvu. v.- ; ,. 'n V lbhts ‘ During the two days a' just past, I 'have been ' ardly admonished to do a panic ghing, Myokrefyse.» T '1‘ ‘ by. bue'fi’a $507877“, wit W‘tfit,.§t3 came gxidem that their}: was no other door open to me, and that 1 must subordinate and utleriy crush my own Weak will in this matter, then I said: ‘ So let it be ;’ since which iime great inward peace has been mine. When this was done, héfilumed 10 his dairy, and wrote as l lhows: ‘ This day-week [shall (D go to Nails, and draw lwoj ndred guineas out of the bank 1'; "a pur- pose that I wot of. bed The major’s man was pleased next morning to find that his mas- ter's clieerfulr'css had come back to him, and that the cloud 0i care which had broodcd overhim tor the last few days, had at length taken to itseif wings and vanished. Yes“ the .nagor’s sunny, cheerful manner had come back, but with more frequent pauses 0t silent thought than heretofore, with a greater lik- ing for solitary walks, and“ a more Constant reading of godly books. The morning oi the twent-ninth came in due course‘ and immedi- ately alter breakfast the major said to himselflas though he were stating a proposition that might bv chance ‘ be open to dispute : ‘I must go and see Tom Crooke.’ Accordingly, he went in search of Mr. Smoke, and was fortunate enough to find that worthv in his oflice. ‘I am going 10 Nottingham by the mid day coach. Tom Crooke,’ said the major, ‘ and I want you to take a holiday, and g0 will: me.’ He spoke this rimming in a [one of greater cordialily than he had used since their first meeting. ‘Much obliged to you, major,’ said Crooke drily ; ‘ but as to taking a holiday lo-day,l hardly see my way to do soâ€"so very bnsy you see. Of course, if il’s a matter of business that you want me 011,! must put olher things on one side, and go with you.’ A BLACK MARE WITH* A WHITE SI'AR. ,, ‘Bur ll’s not a matter of busi- ness,‘ said Major Grogson. ‘I won’t h:.ve the affair put on that footing. I am going to Nottingham simply to draw a couple of hundred guineas out 01 the bank, which 1 want for a certain purpose; and if you will go with me. we’ll have have a comfortable little dinner together. g‘g‘i‘tmtm. , and h the uppn Do you bank at Nottingham, ma- jor, that you have to go there for your money 5" asked Cfooke, with- out heading the' latter part 01 the major's speech. and some of the best wine that can‘ be had for love or money. and be aitogelher as joHy as a couple of sand-boys. Sav that you’ll go, Tom Crooke.’ LM‘I do bank at Nottingham.’ “ansWem-d the old soldier. ‘ A half- cousin of my father’s is in that business. and all my lillle savings are in his keeping V’ ‘At what hour d0 you.purpose leaving Nottingham on your re- turn ?' ‘lfyou go with me,we will return at whatever hour may suit you best. ll I go alone, I shall not set oul on my way back [ill a late hourâ€"say, eight or nine o’clockâ€"having a few calls which may as Well be made if I have not the pleasure of your company. vBut you will go with me, will you not ?’ ‘Sorry, major to be obliged to decline your kind invitation, but the business I have on hand admits of no delayâ€"at least, not for holi- day purposes. Are you not afraid, by the by, to travel with so much money in your- possession ? Suppose the rider ofthe black mare with the white star should bid you stand and deliver for the third time?’ ‘ The event will prove.’ answered the major solemnly. ‘ For the lasi time, I ask you, Thomas Crookeâ€" will you go with me ?’ . ‘_'s”0h,¢fa_c “Ex-WM - “133$ has a kappnnac Two Wing am that fibril» of see‘rel,’ said Cmoko with a laugh. ‘However. I hope with with all my heart that you may get back sale and sound, and with vuur guineas in your pocketâ€"Howabom our bet, by the by? How about the three dozen of port? The three months are slipping quieziv away, yet you seem nu wearer towards affecting your object.’ ‘ Who ever heard 01 a man being stopped three times in succession by the same lhlef’l-NG; I consider that I am far safer ibis lune than if I had never been robbgd at all. Do not you agree with me 'l' ‘ 1! may be. as you say, major,’ replied Crooke with a Queer. ‘ But I would not advise you to trust loo implicitly in such a doctrine} ‘I am nearer, my object, Tum Crooke. I am six weeks nearer it,’ said the major. ‘If I live, I shall win my wager” ‘I don't think you will. Major Gregflon,’ said Crooke tossing his penknife into the air. and catching it doxlerously as it fell. ‘ [ really don’t think you will win your \vager.’ ‘ But you are the oniy person who knows of my errand to No!- lingham,’ said the major; conse quently, I am unable to see in what way I am running anvextraordinary rzsk by having such a large sum of mon_ey aboutmer‘w w L» . ‘ ‘V‘DhLflwfitLLkEJ-dmhlack mam ‘And ifor the last time, Major Gregson, I positively answer, No’ Major Gregson had the inside of the coach to himseli that day as he journeyed from Derby to Notting- ham. and his melancholy musings were unbroken I till he reached his journev’s end. He plO- ceeded at once to the bank, and drew out two hundred guineas, which sealed up in a canvas bag. he deposited temporally with the landlord ofthehotel at which he had ordered his dinner. He then de- bated within himself whether he jshould call upon his fewNottingham acquaintances, but finally decided that 10-day he was not in spirits for society. lnstead he took a walk through the meadows by the banks of the TrentJ and found his way back to the hotel at dusk. he had dined, and a very poor din- ner he made, he sat brooding over the fire,leaving untouched the wine at his elbow, waiting till the clock should strike eight, at which hour he had ordered a post-chaise to be in readiness. At half-past seven he took out his little pocket-Bible, and read a chapter slowly and devoutlv. At aquarterto eight, he drew. one by one. from the pocket of his travelling cloak, a small oblong mahogany-case. a powder-flask, and a tiny bag, holding some half dozen bullets. The mahogany-case held a brace of pistols. which Major t Gregson now proceeded to load - with the utmost care. This done, t he rang for his bill, put on his I. cloak and hat. and carrying the . pistols under his arm, he went When‘ chaise-lamps. .' Dead as a door-nail,’ said the postiiion. after a few moments. ‘Even so,’ ansWered the major sadly. ‘ As i thoughtâ€"as I thought,’ he added under his breath. ‘He courted his fate, and his blood be on his own head.’ ‘ Why, the black comes off his face t’ said the pcstilion in surprise. ‘ I thought when I saw him first that it was his natural colour.’ “it was only put on by wav of disguise,’ said the major. They put. the dead robber into the ‘ chaise. and periormed the rest oi their journey at a foot-pace. the major walking by the side of the chaise. It was very late when they . got into Derby, and they went straight to the house of the chief- eonstable, and knocked him up. The major told his story, and the body was taken out and placed for the night on the table of a small waiting-room. One oftheconstables, throwing the light of his lantern into the face of the dead man, start- ed back in dismay. "I‘om Crooke's face, as I live !’ he exclaimed. ‘It is the face of Thomas Crooke,’ said Major Gregson solemnly. ‘ He and the rider of the black mare with the white star were one and the same man.’ Late as was the hour, Major ‘Gregson’s first act, on getting back to his hotel, was tomduce the wife at his landlord, who was a kindly good-hearted soul, to go at once to down stairs, and was shut upinside the chaise. The bag containing the two hundred guitaer was stowed away in a small locker near his feet. For the first iew miles of the road, Major Gregson let the pistols lie unheeded beside him; but soon as the sixth milestone was passed, he drew up himsclt with military pre- cision, as though he had received the word of command, and grasped his weapons one in each in hand.‘ The moon was in her second quar- ter, and the night. was bright, clear and windy. Both windows of the chaise were purposely left open. The major sat bolt upright, turning his sharp eves from one window to the other, and listening with all his might tor the sound of approaching hoofs, His cloak was wrapped well around him, tor the night was chilly. He sat with both his pistols at lull cock, the barrels protruding from the folds 01 his cloak in a line with the windows of the chaise. His face was very stern audresolute; and could the landlord of the Brown Bear have Been his guest at that mo- ment, he would have been able to form a tolerable idea of how For- lorn Gregson looked when about to head one his desperate charges, and might have been strengthened in taith as to his undoubted qualities las a fire-eater. The chaise, keeping up its mono- tonous jog-trot, passed one mile- stone afler another till the twelth at them was teft behind, the major shill sitting boil uprigh‘l, as grimly and watchful asa ligef in its lair that seems the hunters from afiar. Suddenlyfi faint sound struck upon his ear. His head went forward an inch or two in his anxiety to lis- ten, and his muscles titrhtened like steel. The same instant, the post- boy, with an oath, drove the spur deep into his horse’s Hanks, and the crazy oid chaise started forward at a headlong pace. They had gone thus but a few yards, as it seemed. when a dark mounted figure shot These were his last words upon earth. A siight movement of the major’s elbow, a contraction of his forefinger, a flash, an explosion. and wtth a wild inarticulate cry, the highwayman fell from his horse, shot clean through the heart. With a loud snort of terror, the horse ntarted off, dragging the dead man at its heels ; but betore it had gone more than twenty yards,the mbher’s foot slipped out at the stirrup, and the horse freed from its burden. went off at a terrible pace down the road. Ewiflj,y'robr?d oM‘E rigfiled p651} boy,_brough£ the whole concern to a deWhah. NI!th instant, dark mounted figure‘ was al‘ Hag windowi and a pistol was protruded into the chaise. ‘ Your money, by your life 1’ m Major Gregson, assisted by me postilzon‘ carried the dead man back to the chaise, and then pro- ceeded to examine into his con- dition by the light of one of the chaise-lamps. ‘Even so,’ ansWered the major sadly. ‘ As { thoughtâ€"as I thought,’ he added under his breath. ‘He courted his fate, and his blood be on his own head.’ ‘ Why, the black comes 03 ms face i’ said the pcsliiion in surprise. ‘ I thought when I saw him first that it was his natural colour.’ They put. the dead robber into the chaise. and perlermed the rest oi their journey at a foot-pace. the major walking by the side of the chaise. It was very late when they got into Derby, and they went straight to the house of the chief- eonstable, and knocked him up. The major told his story, and the body was taken out and placed for ‘the night on the table of a small l waiting-room. One oftheconstables, throwing the light of his lantern into the face of the dead man, start- ed back in dismay. ‘It is the face of Thomas CTooke,’ said Major Gregson solemnly. ‘ He and the rider of the b‘ack mare with the white star were one and the same man.’ TERMS $1.00 IN ADVANCE. Whole No. 542. Mrs. Crooke. and break to her, as gently as might be, the news of the sad fate that had betallen, he: has» band. The major, looki'nié'voutiOi 51W dow, saw that on tit-is océfiion. the rider ot'afkflhqm with the loose shoe”! wasgnone other than Tom @rqoke; and from that moment the conviction was borne forciblv in up- on his mind that his old school fellow and the rlder of the black mare with the white star wexe one and the same. Of the mental pro- cess by means of Which the major arrived at the conviction that to him was delegated the duty of rid- ing somer oi this man, we have no hint beyond those conveyed in the extract from the diary already given. The major would seem to have fought against this conviction ‘ up to the last moment. judging from 1the pains he took to Induce Crooke to accompany him to Nottingham as a friend ; but when he found his invitation so premptorily declined, he was none the less' sternlv de- termined to go through With the duty which, as he conceived had been laid upon him. _ In the course of next dav, a jury was impanuelled to sit upon the bod? of the dead highwayman.. Major Gregson and me postboy were summoned to give evidence. The major‘s statement was simple, and to the point. The postilion gave confirmatory evidence as far his knowledge went The verdict of Ihe jury, given with- out a moment’s hesitation. was one of ‘ Justifiable Homicide,’ coupled with a vote of thanks lo Major Greg- son for the bravery displayed by Him in ridding society of one of its greaslest pests. ‘Havin-g been unfortunate eno’gh.’ he said. ' to be twice robbed with- in the space of six weeks, Ideter. min-ed to protect mySeIf for the future as far as it lay in my power to do so. Yesterday, 1 had occasion to go to Nottinugham to draw from the bank the sum of two hundred guineas, and on my return 1 armed myseli with my pistols. The mo- ment the highwavman presented himself at the window of the chaise, I shot him dead.’ Just as the case was finished Crooke’s horse, which had been captured a mile or two out of Derby, was brought to the door of the hotel where the jury were sitting. It was recognized by several there as the black mare which Crooke had kept {or the ostensible purpose of going about the country on his businesa avocations; only, there was this singular tact to be observâ€" ed. that the captured mare was marked with a large star in the middle of its forehead. whereas the auctioneer’s favourite animal was known to be entirely black. Through the intercession of Ma- jor Gregson, the body 01 Crooke was given up to his widow, instead of being handed over to the medical authorities {or dissection, which would otherwise have been its fate. ‘ Fetch a link: warm {water and a sponge: said Majqr Gregsoq. _ The Tliht was acléd on {and the star was washed out without diffi- culty. The major, in his evidence before the jury made no mention of the little incident which had been the means of first directing his suspi- cions towards Croohe. When be robbed for the second time, on his way from Melbourne. as the high- wayman galloped off, the major’s quick ears detected that one of his horse’s shoes was_ loose. Such a. trifling {act would have soon escap- ed his memory, had he not, a few hours laterâ€"at daybreak next. mvirningeashe Wipicinpgubifi bed- ' For some unexplained reason, Derby seemed to become distaste- ful to Major Gregson after the death of Crooke. About a fortnight later, he returned to London, from which plaCe he went to Bath ; and for the remainder of his life he oscillated between the two. dying uittmately at the latter place at the great age of ninety. I don't know whether any of my young readers are members of de- bating societies. If so l can give them a couple 0! entirelv new sub- jectsâ€"a rare windfall if my own youthful experience is to be relied upon. A Welsh paper which has inst fallen into my hands relates that at the last ruri-deoannal meet- ing in the district in which it cir- culates, the assembled clergyman discussed “gweddi gynnulleidfaol,” and that the sublect lor debate at their next meeting is, “Ysrythrol- debsilydliad crefydd mewn gwlad.’ Boasting has serious disadvan- tages. In reply to some disparaging remarks made bv an American aneut the size 0! the British Islands, 3 young Englishman ventured to observe that " our empire was one on which the sun never set.” ‘That,’ remrted the American, "is because you’re a people who can’t be trusted in the dark." Mr. Biaham Younsg‘ the Mormon apostle, is slightly a widower. He has lost one of his Wives.