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WANTED ~11}; the Upper Tendom of San Fran- Cisco, California. half a. dozun young British nobleman l‘orliebtledrums, tens, musical parties and hotel receptions. As smd Tendon) has; been recently vlctimized DV 8. Canadian drummer in the guise of an English lmronet, none but wellâ€" indorsed parties need apply. To those bringing proper certlflmtes bazu'd and lodging free.â€"-Lon- don Times. Younger sons, nobleman, handsome and penni- less, Sparring for grub through the fair British Isles, Herein?chunce for you. Rake up a. ”ten" or ess, To pay your way hither, where kind Fortune smiles On all aristocracy. Title will carry yeu Straight; to Nob Hill, and papas Will advise Well-proportioned daughters to flirt with and marry you. Pack yqur portmnnteuus, make haste and be Wise. [Respectfully dedicated to George D. Green, late of Hamilton] Here is your outfit: A gray suit, a, wide-awake, Some muttonchop whiskers, an agonized dmwl : If you 0th maxmgeit you‘d better try and take A valet Mom; to disoourse of the “ Hall.” The nucc;tml mansion, the ’ounds and the ’orses, Lady Ellis lLUd Lord That, to the sluveys out ere ; Mastar with man in this free land discourses- So be sure all will reach the fair millionaire’s our. Do not be courteous It is no? the fashion 0f the nobles who visit this Western town ; Dine in your Scotch tweed ; and, if you would mush ’um Beyond all recovery, not like a clown. Wear numbertwelx'u boots~the custom’s tmdi- tiou 111* Esc‘new all white linen, and do not forget Two things ilmt‘urc sternly, strictly conditionalâ€"- Your Emmi,” a “weed" and your whiskey a. we .’ Follaw these rules and your fortuna‘s before you. Let the \vornout mmmrcllies {otter alone; The maids o: Nob Hill will not. fail to adore you, Nor to envythe heiress that. calls you her own; One thing be careful ofâ€"henr me admonish, Or else you will have but. your trip for your pains-â€" While big boots and valet and whiskers you furnish. For God’s sake, don’t startle us out here with bruins ! â€"‘D 00., in San Francisco Exchange. Ash Wednesday is the beginning of Lent, the fast of 40 days immediately preceding Easter. Lent is observed in the Greek and other Oriental churches. as well as by Roman Catholics and Episcopalians. The word is derived from the Anglo-Saxon lsnctcn, Ger- man lenz. spring, and the custom is very an- cient, having been handed down from the ecclesiastical Fathers. Fasting is not, as is‘ sometimes thought, an accompaniment of‘ Christian theology. It has been practised in 1 all historic times, especially by the people of, Asia. It was held in high esteem by the an- ‘ cient Parsees of Irania ; it was conspicuous in the Mysteries of Mithras; the old Chinese and Hindus, especially the latter. carried it to an unnatural excess. In Siam, Java, Thibet, fasting is a part of religious ceremony, as it was of the old Greek and Roman festivals. The object of the Lenten fast has been dis- puted, though it is generally regarded as a preparation for Easter, and as a time to be devoted to repentance for sins of the past year. The 40 days are believed to refer to the 40 days’ fast of Jesus in the wilderness, the 40 days of the Deluge, the 40 years’ wan- dering of the Jews, the 40 days granted to the Ninevites for contrition, the 40 days spent in testing by Moses and Elias, and to other Scriptural precedents. Lent seems to have been made compulsory as early as the middle of the third century. There was great di- versity at first in the time and manner of its celebration. The time was soon made 38 days, but four days were afterwards added. Ash Wednesday is the forty- sixth day before Easter, the six Sundays be- tween Ash Wednesday and that festival not being fast days and not counted as belonging to Lent. An old English custom of pelting a puppet called Jack of Lent prevailed in the season, but its origin has never been ascer- tained. The fourth Sunday of Lent, fre- quently called Mid-Lent or Passion Sunday, was once known as Carl Sunday, when beans or peas called carlings were eaten or given away. The " Quadragesimale Spirituale," published in Paris in 1565, was translated more than forty years after in quaint English, and in the translation occurs this passage : “ After the sallad (part of the first service) we eat dried beanes, by which We understand con- fession. When we would have beanos well sooden, we lay them in steeps, for otherwise they will never seed kindly. Therefore, if we purpose to mend our faults, it is not sufficient barely to confess them at all adventure ; but we must let our confes- sion lie in steepe in the water of meditation.” Shrove Tuesday is so named because the faithful were then Wont to confess and he shriven, in order to fit them for the purificn‘ tion of the fast. Formerly in England the people, after confession, dined on pancakes or fritters, and had a merry time The bell rung on that day was vulgarly called Pancake Bell, and the day itself Pancake Day. Roman Catholics assume to follow a. rigid rule of fasting in Lent ; but Episcopalians do pretty much as they choose, abstaining generally from social gayeties. As there are a great many Episcopalians in this city. the coming and continuance of Lent materially lessens the pleasure and brilliancy of toe sea- sonâ€"N. Y. Times. Mr. Ben F. Wilson, of New Haven, is now (Feb. 4th, 1880) 82 years of age. He has been magistrate twelve years in Nelson County. He fines every man 31 for each time he uses a. profane oath, and has receipts for payment of same. He never uses a profane oath. He never tasted a drop of liquor. He never smoked a cigar or tobacco, or chewed in his life. He never saw a horse-race for money. He never was at a theatre. He never knew one card from anotner, though he is known from here to New Orleans. He has been a Mason for forty years. He has been a member of the Methodist Church for sixty years.-â€" class leader and steward for fifty-nine years. He has Bgéiligoinvg to Sundayschool for sixty four years. He has travelled through eleven States of the Union. He is ready to say with Paul : “I have fought a good fight; Ihnve kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of life which the Lord, the Righteous Judge, shall give me."â€"Lou£svillc Comfy-Journal. “You see, boss, dar‘s a nigger libin’ up my way who orter to be tooken car’ of,” said an old darky to the Captain at the central stu- tion yesterday. “What’s he been doing now?” “Wanl, Bah, 1133’ fall I lent him my axe, {111’ when I wanted it back he braced right up an’ tole me dat possesshun was nine points 0’ law, an’ refused to gib it up." "Yes." “Waulfie udder day I sent de ole woman ober an’ she borrowed his buck-saw. an‘ when Julius cum for it I told him jist like he answered me, an’ stood on my dignity." “Well?” “I had nine points 0’ law, didn’t I?” “-Yes.” An' how many pints am de law composed of?” “I don’t know exactly.” “Well, (let’s what bodders â€"Cents have begun to appear in San Fran- cisco. Hitherto fiveâ€"cent pieces have been the least coin received. me,nfurrfi;iavzrtwnigger saw Jem nine pints, sh up dis lef’ eye fur me. pitched de ole woman char 3, bar'l an' walked ofi with his ‘saw an’ my S1101v shovel to boot. ‘ If I had mne pints he mus’ hev had ober twenty an‘ eben den he didnt half let himself out l"â€"-Dct10it Fme Press. -â€"â€"“ Talking of law,” says Pompey, “ makes me think of what the ’mortal Cato, who lib mos’ a. thousan’ years ago, once said: 'Delaw am like a ground glass window, dat gibs lxght nufi to light us poor folks in de dark passage of dis life, but would puzzle de debbil hisself to see through it.’ ” THE [’IDIN'I‘S 01“ THE DAVE AN Ul’lPORTAN’I‘ “AD." 'I‘HIE LENTEN FAST. AVIAN “’l'l‘ll A RECORD. It was the sacred hour of noon at Sammt- stadt. Everybody was at dinner, and the serious Kell/Lcr of “Der wilde Mann” glanced in mild reproach at Mr. James Clinch, who, disregarding that fact and the inviting table d’hote. stepped into the street. For Mr. Clinch had eaten a late breakfast at Kempen, was (1 speptic and American. and moreover preoccyupied with business. He was conse- quently indignant on entering the garden-like court and Cloistervlike counting house of Von Becherat, Sons and cousins, to find the Comptoir deserted even by the ponier. and was furious at the maid servant who offered the sacred Shibboleth, “Mittugsessm.” as a. reasonable explanation of the solitude. “ A country,” said Mr. Clinch to himself, “that stops business at midday to go to dinner, and employs women servants to answer the calls of business men, is played out.” He stepped from the silent building into the equally silent Kronprmzon strasse. Not a soul to be seen anywhere ! Rows on rows of two storied. grayetuccoed buildings that might be dwellings or might be oflices, all showing some traces of feminine taste and supervision in a flower or a curtain that belied the legended “Comptoir” or “Direction” over their portals. Mr. Clinch thought of Boston and Old State street, of New York and Wall street, and became coldly contemptu- ous. Still, there was nothing to do but to walk down the formal rows of chestnuts that lined the broad avenue. and then walk back again. At the corner of the first cross street he was struck with the fact that two men who were standing in front of adwelling house appeared to be as inconsistent and as out of proportion to the silent houses as the actors on the stage were to the painted canvas thorough- fares before which they soliloquized. Mr. Clinch usually had no fancies. had no eye for quaintness ;besides, this was not a quaint or romantic districtâ€"only on entrepot for silks and veLvets, and Mr. Clinch was here, not as a tourist, but as a purchaser. The guide books had ignored Sammtstadt, and he was too good an American to waste time in hunting up uncatalogued curiosities. Besides, he had been here once beforeâ€"an entire day l One o’clock! Still a full hour and a half before his friend would return. What should he do? The club Where he had once been entertained was deserted even by its waiters ; the garden, with its ostentations out ofâ€"doors tables, looked bleak and here. Mr. Clinch was not fastidious. but even he was quick to detect the affront put upon Nature by this continental, theatrical gardening, and turned hastily away. Born near a. lake larger than the German Ocean, he resented a pool of water twentyâ€"five feet in diameter under that alluring title ; and a frequenter of the Adirondacks, he could scarce contain himself over a bit of rockwork twelve feet high. “A country,” said Mr. Clinch, “that â€"” but here he remembered that he had seen, in a. park of his native city, an imita- tion of the Drachenfels on a scale of three inches to the foot ; and he checkedhis speech. He turned into the principal allcc of the town. There was a long white building at one endâ€"the Bahnhof; at. the other end he remembered a. dye house. He had, a year ago, met its hospitable proprietor. He would call upon him now. But the same solitude confronted him as he passed the porter‘s lodge beside the gate- way. The counting house, half villa, half factory, must have convoked its humanity in some out~of~the-way refectory, for the halls and passages were tenantless. For the first time he began to be impressed with a certain foreign quaintness in the surroundings ; he found himself also recalling something he had read when a. boy about an enchanted palace, whose inhabitants awoke on the arrival of a long predestined prince. To assure himself of the absolute ridiculousness of this fancy, he took from his pocket the business card of its proprietor, a sample of dye, and recalled his own personality in aletter of credit. Hav- ing dismissed this idea from his mind he lounged on again through a rustic lane that might have led to a farm house, yet was still absurdly enough a part of the {aetory grounds. Crossing a ditch by a causeway, he presently came to another ditch and another causeway, and then found himself idly contemplating a massive. ivy-clad, venerable brick wall. As a were well it might not have attracted his at- tention, but it seemed to enter and bury itself at right angles in the side wall of a quite ,modern-looking dwelling. After satisfying himself of this fact, he passed on before the dwelling, but was amazed to see the wall re- appear on the other sideâ€" exactly the same â€" old,ivy-grown, sturdy, uncompromising, and ridiculous. Could it actually be a part of the house ? He t ned back and repassed the front of the ‘ welling. The entrance door was hospitably open. There was a hall and a staircase. butâ€"by all that was preposterous lâ€"they were built over and around the central brick intrusion. The wall actually ran through the house ! “ A coun- try," said Mr. Clinch to himself, “ where they build their houses over ruins to accommodate them, or save the trouble of removal, isâ€"â€"-” but a very pleasant voice, addressing him. here estopped his usual hasty conclusion. “ Guten Morgen.” - Mr. Clinch looked hastily up. Leaning over the parapet of what appeared to be a garden on the roof of the house was a young girl, red-checked, bright-eyed, blonde-haired. The voice was soft and pleasing. It was part of the new impression he was receiving that it was certainly unlike a majority of his fair countrywomen. In a vague, illogical way he. in some fashion. connected it with the ivy- clad wall before him. His hat was in his hand as he answered, “ Guten Morgen.” \Vas the Herr seeking anything? The Herr was only awaiting a long-time- _ coming friend, and had strayed here to speak ' with the beforeAknown proprietor. ”Sic? Bfit the before-kfiovfi proprietor sleep- ing well at present. after dinner, would the Herr wait for him on the terrace? The Herr would, but looked around in vain for the means to do it. He was thinking of a scaling ladder, when the young woman reap- peared at the open door, and bade him enter u: nv 1 r , . , Following his youthful hostess, Mr. Clinch mounted the staircase, but, passing the mys- terious wall, could not forbear an illusion to it. “ It is oldâ€"very old,” replied his oom- pnnion ; “ it was here when I came.” -â€".‘.â€" ‘7 N“ Thtit was not very long ago," said Mr‘ Clinch, gallantly. “ And built it over?” “ Why not? It is very, very hard, and so thick.” M1. Clinch here explained, with masculine superiority, the existence of such modern agents a! nitro-glycerine and? dynamite, per- suasive in their effects upon time-honored ob- structions and encumbrances. “ But there was not then what you call nitro-glycerine.” “ But since then?” The young girl gazed at him with surprise. “ My great grandfather did not take it away when he built the house. Why should VOL. XXII. “ 011!” They had passed through 9. hall and dining- room, and suddenly stepped out of a window upon a gravelled terrace. From this a few stone steps descended to another terrace, on which trees and shrubs were growing, and yet, looking over the parapet, Mr.Clinch could see the road some twenty feet below. It was All yEGEND OF SA 11 NITSTA DT. But nay grandfather found it here, nearly on a level with, and part of the second story of the house. Had an earthquake lifted the adjacent ground, or had the house burrowed into a hill? Mr. Clinch turned to his compan- ion, who was standing close beside him, breathing quite audibly, and leaving an im- pression on his senses as of a gentle and frag- rant helfer. “ How was all this done 1’" The maiden shrugged his shoulders “It was always so. I can‘t say.” Mr. Clinch reascended the steps. He had quite forgotten his impatience. Possibly it was the gentle, equable calm of the girl, who, but for her ready color, did not seem to be stirred at anything ; perhaps it was the peace- ful repose of this mausoleum of the dead and forgotten wall that subdued him ; but he was quite willing to take the old-fashioned chair on t:e terrace which she offered him, and follow her movements with interested eyes, as, from a mysterious closet in the well, she drew out certain glasses and bottles. Mr. Clinch had the weakness of a majority of his sex in believing that he was a good judge of wine and women. The latter, as shown, in the specimen before him, he would have in- voiced as a: fair sample of the middleâ€"class German woman, healthy, comfort-loving, home-abiding, the very genius of domesticity â€"with the future wholesome matron forecast in all her virgin outlines, from the curves of her broad hips to the lines of her back and shoulders. Of the wine he was to judge later. That required an even more deliberate and unimpassioned intellect. She placed two bottles before him on the table. One, the traditional long-necked. amber-colored Rheinflasche; the other an odd, quaint. discolored, amphoral-patterned glass jug. The first she opened. ' 7‘ This,” she expl‘mued, pointing to the other, “ is only to look at." Mr. Clinch first paid his respects to the opened bottleâ€"9. better quality of Rude- sheimer. With his intellect thus clarified, he glanced at the other. “ It is from my great-grandfather. It is old as the wall.” Mr. Clinch exammed the bottle attentively. It had no cork ; formed of some obsolete, al- most opaque glass, its twisted neck was ap- parently hermetically sealed by the same material. The maiden smiled as she said, “It cannot be opened now without breaking the bottle. It not good luck to break glass. My great-grandfather and my father would not.” Mr. Clinch again examined it. The neck was flattened toward the mouth, but, on clos- er inspection. he became satisfied that it was closed by some equally hard cement, but not by EELS}- "“VIf Ican open it without breaking the bottle, have I yroqr permifision '1” An interested, half mischievous glance came in the maidcn’s eye. She colored as she re- plied, “I shall not object ; but for what will you do it '2" ‘ “ To taste it.” “ You are not afraid ‘2” asked the maiden» There was just enough evident admiration of Mr. Clinch‘s audacity in the girl’s manner to spur him on to any risk. He replied by tak- ing from his pocket a small steel instrument. Holding the neck of the flask firmly in one hand, he passed hls thumb and the steel twice or thrice around it, near its mouth. A faint rasping, scratching sound was all the wondering maiden heard. Then with a sudden, dexterous twist of his th unb and finger, to her utter astonishmen he laid the top of the neckâ€"neatly cut ofimin her hand. * L “ There’s a better and more modern bottle than you had before,” he said. pointing to the clear-divided neck, “and any cork will fit it now.” But the girl only regarded him with a slight degree of anxiety. “And you still wish to taste the wine ?" “ With your permission." He looked up in her eyes. There was per- mission ; there was something more that was fluttering to his vanity. He took a wme glass, and slowly and in silence filled it from the The wine fell into it, clearly, transparently, heavily, but still and cold as death. There was no sparkle, no cheap ebullition, no evanescent bubble 1 Yet it was so clear that but for its faint amber tinting the glass seemed empty. There no aroma ; no ethereal diflus- ion from its equable surface. Perhaps it was fancy perhaps it was from nervous excitement, but a slight chill seemed to radiate from the still goblet and bring down the temperature of the terrace. Mr. Clinch and his companion both shivered. flask But only for a moment. Mr. Clinch raised the glass to his lips. As he did so, he remem- bered seeing distinctly, as in a picture before him, the sunlit terrace, the pretty girl in the foreground, an amused and interested spec- tator of his sacrilegious act ; the outlying ivy-crowned wall, the grass-covered ditch, the tall factory chimneys rising above the chestnuts, and the distant poplars that marked the Rhine. The wine was delicious. Perhaps a trifle, only a trifle hoady. Mr. Clinch was conscious of a certain exaltation. There was, too, a half smile upon the girl’s lip, and a roguish twinkle in her eye as she looked at him. Archness was certainly becoming to her. " Do you find the wine good ‘2 " she asked. “ Fair enough, I warrant,” said Mr. Clinch. gravely, “but methinks ’tis nothing compared with the nectar that grows upon those rosy lips. Nay, by St. Ursula. I swear it.” "11,,AJ Scarcely had the unfortunate? man uttered ‘ this solemnly ridiculous speech than he was convinced of its sssurdity. He would have given to recall it. He knew he must be in- toxicated. That the sentimentlanguage were utterly unlike him, and insulting to the girl he was miserably aware; that he did not even know exactly what he meant, he was also hopeless conscious of, Yet feeling all this, feeling, too, the shame of appearing before her as a man who had lost his senses through a single glass of wine, nevertheless he rose awkwardly, seized her hand, and through sheer force drew her toward him and kissed her. With an exclamation that was half a laugh and half a, cry. she fled from him. leaving him staggering alone on the terrace. For a moment, Mr. Clinch supported him-. self against the window, leaning his throbbing head on the cold glass. Shame, mortifica- tion, a hysterical. half consciousness of his ridiculousness. and yet a. strange, undefined; fright through all, by turns possessed him. Was he ever before guilty of such perfect idiocy? Had he ever before succumbedin this way? Was it possible that he, Mr. James Clinch. the coolest head ate supper party, he the American who had drunk Frenchman and Englishman under the table, could be transformed into a sentimental, high- flown idiot by a single gloss of wine? He :was conscious. too, of asking himself these very questions in a stilted sort ofrhetoric, and of it rising brutality of anger that he could with difficulty repress. Suddenly everything swam before him, and he seemed to lose all consciousness. But only for a moment. The next instant, with a strong eflort of his will, he seemed to recall himself, his situation, his surroundings and above all, his appointment. He hurried.- ly descended the terrace steps, and before he well knew how, found himself again on the road. Once there his faculties returned in full vigor, he was himself. He strode briskly forward toward the ditch he had crossed only a few moments before, but was suddenly stopped. It was filled with water! He looked RICHMOND HILL. THURSDAY, MARCH 4, 1880. His close-cropped hair. trimmed a la mode. had given way to long curling looks that dropped upon his shoulders. His wet mous- tache was [rightfully prolonged. and curled up at the end stifiiy ; his Piccadilly cellar had changed shape and texture, and reached a mass of lace to a point midway of his breast. His bootsâ€"why had he not noticed his boots before? These triumphs of his Parisian beotv maker were changed to hideous leathern cases that reached half way up his thigh. In place of his formal high silk hat, there lay upon the ground beside him the awful thing he had just taken off, a mass of thickened felt, flap feathers and buckle, that weighed at least a stone. A single terrible idea now took possession of him. He had been done, taken in, sold, frightfully. He saw it all. In a state of in- toxication he had lost his way, had been dragged into some vile den. stripped of his clothes and valuables, and turned adrift upon the quiet town in this shameful masquerade. How should he keep his appointment 7 How should he a that the police were duly in- formed of t 's outrage upon a stranger and an America ? How to establish his iden- tity ? Had ey spared his papers ? He felt feverishly i his breastâ€"ah! his watch? Yes, a we in, heavy, jewelled, enamelled; and, by allt at was ridiculous, five othersl He ran hi hands into his capacious trunk hose. What was this? Brooches, chains, diamond crosses, finger rings, one large Epis- copal one, esrrings and a handful of battened gold and silver coins. His papers, his momorandums, his passport, all proofs of his identity, were gone! In their place was the unmistakable omm'um gather-um of some accomplisheei knight of the road. Not only was his perisonality, but his character gone forever! ' up and down; it was clearly the same ditch, but a flowing stream, thirty feet wide, now senarated him from the other bank. The appearance of this unlocked-for obsta- cle made Mr. Clinch doubt the complete reâ€" turn of his reason. He accordingly stepped to the brink to bathe his head in the stream and wash away the last vestiges of his pots- tions. But as he approached the placid depths and knelt dowh, he again started back, and this time with a. full convicticn of his own madness. For reflected from its mirrorâ€"like surface was a. figure he could scarcely call his own, although here and there some traces of his former self still lingered. It wasa part of Mr. Clinch‘s singular expe- rience that this last stroke of ill~fortune seemed to. revive in him something of the brutal instinct he felt a moment before. He turned angrily about, with the intention of calling some one, the first person he met. to account. But the house that he had just quitted was gone ! The wall ! Ah ! there it was â€"n » onger purposeless, intensive and ivy-clad, i t part of' the buttress of smother massive wall that rose into battlements above him. Mr Clinch turned again, hopelessly, toward Sammtstadt ; there was the fringe of poplars out he Rhine ; there were the outlyâ€" ing fields, it by the same meridian sun ; but the sham teristic chimneys of Sammtstad were gone Mr. Clinch was hopelessly lost I The solid of a horn. breaking the slillness, recalled hlls senses. He now, for the first time perm/wed that a little distance below him, part <{hidden 111 the trees was a queer, tower-sh! (1 structure, with chains and pul- leys, tha . some strange way recalled his boyish g. A drawbridge "and portcullisl Jth . _‘ *.' and 111:!pr and. trying to at- t-raci hit; attention. “ Was wollen Sie ‘2” “ I want to see the proprietor,” said Mr. Clinch, choking back his rage. There was a pause, and the figure turned apparently to consult with some one behind the battlements. After a. moment he reap- peared, and in a perfunctory monotone, with an occasional breathing spell on the trumpet, began : “ You do give warrantee as a good knight and true. as well as by the bones of the blessed St. Ursula, that. you bear no ill will, secret emnity, wicked misprise or conspiracy against the body of our noble lord and master, von Kolnische ? And you bring with you no ambush, Beige, or surprise of retainers, neither secret warrant nor lettres dc cachet. nor carry on your knightly person poisoned dagger, magic ring, witch powders, nor en- chanted bullets, and that you have entered into no unhallowed alliance with the Prince of darkness. gnomes, pixies, dragons, Un- dines, Loreleis, nor the like ‘1” “ Come down out of that, you dâ€"â€"d old fool,” roared Mr. Clinch, now perfectly beâ€" side himself with rage. “ Come down and let me in I” “ In an instant confused cries of recogni- tion and joy, not unmixed with some conster~ nation, rose from the battlements. “ Ach Gott l” “ Mutter Gottes l" “ It is he l” “ It is Jann. der Wandered l” ” It is him- self 1” came back to his puzzled ear. The chains rattled, the ponderons drawbridge creaked and dropped, and across it a medley of mottled figures rushed pell mell. But fore- most among them, the very maiden he had left not ten minutes before, flew into his arms, and with a cry of joyful greeting sank upon his breast. Mr. Clinch looked down upon the fair head and long braids. It cer~ tainly was the same maiden. his cruel en- chantress, but where did she get those absurd garments ? ,__, .. . -. . . a 1 “Willkommen,” said a stout figure ad- vancing with some authority and seizing his disengaged hand; ”where hast thou been so long ? ” Mr. Clinch, by no means placated, coldly dropped the extended hand. It was not the proprietor he had known. But there was a singular resemblance in his face to some one of Mr. Clinch’s own kinâ€"but who it was, he could not remember. " May I take the liberty of asking for your name 7’” he asked coldly. The figure grinned. “ Surely! But if thou standest upon pmwtilio, it is for me to ask thine. most noble Freihcer,” said he, winking upon his retainers, “Whom have I the honor of entertaining ‘2 " “ My name is Clinch-James Clinch of Chicago, Illinois." A shout of laughter followed. ' In the midst of his rage and mortification Mr.Clinch fancied he saw a shade of pain and annoyance flit across the face of the maiden. He was puzzled, but pressed her hand, in spite of his late experience, reassuringly. She made 9. gesture of silence to him, and then slipped away in the crowd. “ Shames Klinsohe von Sehe-kurgo." mim- icked the figure, to the unspeakable delight of his retainers. So! That is the latest French style. Holy St. Ursula! Holy St. Ursula! Hark ye, nephew! I am nota travelled man. Since the Crusades we sim- ple Rhine gentleman have stayed at home. But I call myself Koluische of Koln, at your service." “ Very likely you are right, ” said Mr. Clinch, hotly disregarding the previous cau- tion of his fair companion ;“ but whoever you are, I am a stranger. entitled to protection. I have been robbed.” If Mr. Clinch had uttered an exquisite joke instead of avery angry statement, it could not have been more hilariously received. He paused, grew confused, and then Went on, hesitatingly. “ In pléée of my papers and credentials I find only these," and he produced the jewelry from hgs poqket. Anothét éhout of laughter and clapping oi More and more mystified, and now con- vinced of the folly of any further explanation, Mr. Clinch took the extended hand of his a1- leged uncle and permitted himself to be led into the castle. They passed into a large ban- queting hall. adorned with armor and imple- ments of the chase. Mr. Clinch could not help noticing that, although all the appoint- ments were liberal and picturesque, the venti- lation was bad, and the smoke of the huge chimney made the air murky. The oaken ta- bles, massive in carving and rich in color, wereunmistakahly greasy,aner. Clinch slipped on a piece of meat that one of the dozen half- wild dogs who were occupying the room was tearing on the floor. The dog, yelping, ran between the legs of a retainer. precipitating him upon the Baron. who instantly, with the " equal foot" of fate, kicked him and the dog nto a corner. hands followed this second speech, and th Baron, with a wink athis retainers, prolonged the general mirth by saying. “ By the mass, nephew, there is little doubt but there has been robbery somewhere.” “ It was done,” continued Mr. Clinch, hur- rying to make an end of his explanation, “while I was. inadvertently, overcome by liquor â€"drugged liquor. The laughter here was so upronrious that the Baron, albeit with tears of laughter in his one eye, made apetemptmy gesture of silence. The gesture was peculiar to the Baron, effica- cious and simple. It consisted merely in knocking down the nearest laugher. Having thus restored tranquillity he strode forward and took Mr. Clinch by the hand. “ By St. Adolph, I did doubt thee a moment ago, nephew ; but this last frank confession of thine shows me I did thee wrong. Willkom- men zu Hausa! Jenn. drunk or sober, Will- ommen zu Cracowen “ And whence came you last ?” asked the Baron, disregarding this little contretemps, and throwing himself heavily on an oaken sectee. while he pushed a. queer uncomfort- able-looking stool, with legs like a Siamese- twin connected double X towards his com- panion. Mr. Clinch, who had quite given him- self up to fate, answered, mechanically, “ Paris.” The Baron winked his eye with unalterable elderly wickedness. “Ack Gott, it is nothing to What it was when I was your age. Ah, there was Manon, Sieur Manon we used to call her, I suppose she is getting old now. How goeson the feud between the students and the citizensâ€"Eh ? Did you go to the (ml in la Cite ‘3” Mr. Clinch stopped the flow of the justiceâ€" shallow-like reminiscences by an uneasy ex- clamation. He was thinking of the maiden who had. disappeared so suddenly. The Baron misinterpreted his nervousness. “What, he ! within there, Max, Wolfgang, lazy rascals ! Bring some wine.” Atvthe baleful word Mr. Clinch started to his feet. “Not for me 1 Bring me none of your body- “and soulâ€"destroying poison 1 I’ve enough of it 1” “ I beg your pardon,” said MnClinch recall- ing himself slowly, “but Ifear the Rhine Wine does not agree with me}: The Baron grinned. Perceiving, however, that the three servitors grinned also, he kick- ed two of them into obscurity and felled the third to the floor with his fist. “ Hark ye. nephew,” he said, turning to the astonished Clinch, "give over this nonsense. By the mitre of Bishop;Hato,th0u art; as big a. i001 as he l" The Baron stared; the three serviturs stared also. 'V‘TKygfif the Mouse Tower,” sneered the Baron. “Oh I see you know the storx.” “ Halo. 9” repeated Clinch mechanically. “what he of‘the Mouse Tower. * ~~~~~ »-, w v The Baron grinned. “He punished the Rhenish wine as thou dost,withoutjudgment. He hud ” 17‘ Willy, arm'I like fiim ?" asked Mr. 01inch in amazement. 1‘ The jim jams,” said Mr. Clinch, mechan ically agmn. The Baren stared. “I know not what thou meanest by 'jim-jams,‘ but he had, like thee, the Wildest fantasies and imaginings. Saw snakes, toads, rats-4n his boots. But prin: cipally rats. Said they pursued him. Came in his room, his bed, nch Gott I” ” 0h,” said Mr. Clinch, with a sudden re- turn to his former self and his native inquir- ing habits. “Then that is the fact about Bishop Hatta of the story ‘2” . u “ His enemies made it the subject of a vile slander against an old friend of mine,” said the Baron. “and those cursed poets who be- lieve everything, and then persuade others to do soâ€"may the devil fly away with themâ€"- kept it up.” Where w‘ere facts quite to Mr. Clinch's skep- tical mind. He forgot himself and his sur- roundings “Anduthnt story of the Drachenfels ‘2” he asked. insinuatingly. “The dragon, you know. Was he, tooâ€"-â€"â€"” The Baron grinned. “A boar transformed by the drunken brains of the Bauer: of the Siebengebirge. Ach G-oUz. Ottefried had many a hearty laugh over it, and it did him, as thou knowest. good service with the nervous mother of the silly maiden.” ” And the seven sisters of Schonberg 1’” asked Mr. Clinch, persuasiyely. V “ Schonberg? I‘ISeven sist‘ers 2’ What of them 7” demanded the Baron, sharply. “ Why, you Kuowâ€"theâ€"maidens who were so coy to their suitors. and-don’t you remember ?â€"jumped into the Rhine to avoid them." ’ “ Coy ? Jumped into the Rhine to avoid suitors ?’ ” roared the Baron purple, with rage. “ Harkee, nephew, I like not this kind of jesting. Thou knowest I married one of the Schonberg girls, as did thy father. How coy they were is neither here nor there, but mayhap we might tell another story. Thy fatherâ€"as weak a fellow as thou art when a. petticoat is concerned, could not, as a gentle- man, do other than he didâ€"and this is his reward ! Ach Gott, ‘ Coy.’ And so I warrant this is the way the story is delivered in Paris ?” Mr. Clinch would have answered that this was the way he read it in a guide book, but checked himself at the hopelessness of the explanation. Besides he was on the eve of historic informationâ€"he was, as it were, in- terviewing the past. and Whether he ever would be able or not to profit by the oppor- tunity. he could not bear to lose it. “ And now about the Lorelei ?â€"is she too 9. fie- ion 2” he asked gilbly. “ It was said.” observed the Baron sar- donienlly, “ that when thou disappeared with the housekeeper‘s daughter at Waldeckâ€" heaven knows where lâ€"thou wast swallowed up in a whirlpool with some creature. Ach Gott ! I believe it. But a truce to this balderdash. And thou wantest to know of the‘ eoy’ sisters of behonberg! Hark ye, Jenn, that cousin of thine is a, Schmiberg. Call you her ‘ coy 1” Did I not see thy greet- ing ‘1 Eh ! By St. Adolph ! knowing thee as she does to be robber and thief. call you her greeting ‘ any ‘1’ ” Furious as Mr. Clinch inwardly grew under these epithets he felt that his explanation hardly relieved the maiden from deceit at himself from weakness. But out of his very perplexity and travail a bright idea was born. He turned to the Baxon. “ Then you have no faith in the Rhine le- ge‘lds ?.: v The‘Baron only replied with acontemptuoua shrug of his shoulders, “ But What if I told you a new one .9" “ You?” “ Yea, out of my own experience.” I" M Teefy N-“ But your father ?” n. as filmy”: flmqutW Certainly somebody was‘snorma. y enough, it seemed to be Wilhelmina. Mr. Clinch gently suggested this to her. “ Foolish fellow~ it is yourself." Mr. Clinch, struck with the idea, stopped to consider. She was right. It certainly was himself. The Baron was curious. It was early in the afternoon, just after dinner. He might be worse bored. “ Oh, I see. The old trick 1 Well. call the jade; but mark ye, Sir Nephew, no enchanted maidens and knights. Keep to thyself, be as thou art, the wandering vagabond and knight of the road. What. 110, there, Max, Wolf- gang; call the Lady Wilhelmina.” 111' 1 o“- o 1 "'7’ It was the first; time Mr. Clinch had heard his fair friend’ s name. It was not the first. time he had seen her, as the very decided wink the gentle creature gave him testified. But with hands lightly clasped and downcast eyes, she modestly stood before him “ So utterly travel-worn and weak had I become,” said Mr. Clinch, with admirable simulated pathos, “that a single glass of wine offered me by the simple cottage maiden affected me like a prolonged debauch.” A long-drawn snore was all that followed this afiecting climax. The Baron was asleep. The retainers were also asleep. Only one pair of eyes remained open, arch, luminous, blue Wilhelmina’s l “ There is a subterranean passage below us to Linn. Let us fly ?" she whispered. “ But why ?" '“ They always do it in the legends," she answered modestly. Mr. Clinch began. Without heeding the Be: on’ s seorniul eyes he graphically described his assent to an invitation from a Lorelei and his descent into a whiipool of the Rhine, some ten years before. “I am free to con- fess,” added Mr. Clinch, with an appealing glance to Wilhelmina, “that I was not at- treated by the graces of the lady, but only by my desire to visit unknown regions. I was burning with a deeixe to travel and see With the characteristic fluency of his na- tion, Mr. Clinch described his landing on those enchanted shores, via the Rhine whirl- pool and Hell Gate, East River, New York. He described the railways, tramways, tele- graphs, hotels, phonograph and telephone. An occasional oath broke from the Baron,but he listened attentively, and in a few moments Mr. Clinch, racconteur, had the satisfaction of seeing the vast hall slowly filling with open-mouthed retainers, hanging upon his words. Mr. Clinch went on to describe his astonishment at meeting on those very shores some of his own blood and kin. “ In fact.” said Mr. Clinch, “here were a race calling themselves ‘Clinch.’ but all claiming to have descended from Kolnische.” " But how ?” sneered the Baron. “ Through James Kolnische and Wilheim- ina, his wife,” returned Mr. Clinch, boldly. “They emigrated from Koln and Crefeld to Philapelphia, where there is a quarter named Creield. Mr. Clinch felt himself shaky as to his chronology, but wisely re- membered that it was a chronology of the future to his hearers, and they could not de- tect any anachronism. With his eyes fixed on those of the gentle Wilhelmina, Mr. Clinch now proceeded to describe his return to his father-land ; but his astonishment at finding the very face of the country changed, and a city standing on those fields he had played in as a boy, and how he had wandered hopeless- ly on, until he had at last set wearily down in a humble cottage built on the ruins of a lordly castle. “ America,” continued Mr. Clinch. “ What ?” “America.” “ Yes, a gnome- -1ike sounding nameâ€"this Meriker. Go on, nephew. Tell me of Meri- ker.” With a. strugg‘e he awoke. The sun was shining. The maiden was looking at him. But the castle ?-â€"the castle wag‘gqne l “ Paris,”interrupted the Baron, sarcasti- callyf â€"-;;Y:)uhave islept we'll,” eaidvthe maiden, archly. “Everybody does aft-er dinner at Sammtstadt. Father husjust awakened and is coming”, Mr. Clinch stared at the window, at the terrace, at the sky, at the distant chimneys of Sammtstadt, at the more distant Rhine, at the table before him, and finally at the empty glass. The maiden smiled. "Tell me,” said Mr. Clinch, looking in her eyes. “is there a secret passage, underground. between this place and the castle of Linn ? " “ An underground passage ? " “ Aye, whence the daughter of the house fled with a stranger knight. ” “They say there is,” said the maiden, with a gentle blush. “ Can you show it to me ? ” She hesitated. “ Papa is coming I’ll ask him I” It is presumed that she did. At least the Herr Consul at Sammtstadt informs me of a marriage certificate issued to one Clinch of Chicago and Kolnische of Sammtstadt, and there is an amusing storv extant in the Verein at. Sammtstadt of an American connoisseur of Rhme wines, who mistook a. flask of Cognac and rock candy. “craftily qualified" to dose lower grade wines up to the American standard for the rarest Rud- esheimer. BRET HAME. As Imagined by a Newspaper Aborigiue ol lbw JFnr \Vild ‘Vosl. (From the Kansas City Times.) The Spraguea and Conklings have made up. am“. the reconciliation Wm duly celebrated last week with all the pomp and ceremony of a formal dinner at the charming Kate Sprague's residence where Roscoe’s wife was made a great deal of. We can imagine some such conversation as this : Kateâ€"Why, my dear Mrs. Conkling, how do you do? It’s been ever so long since I last saw you and Roscoe. Do take off your things. (They kiss.) “ n. ., «- .-,,,A m...» ‘ Mrs. Corik â€"Yes, it’s been a long time, sure enough. I was dreadful sorry I couldn’t go with Roscoe when he visited you last summer. but the deer boy was afraid I was not strong enough te bear the excitement. I heard you had a. very lively season. Kateâ€"Perfectly delightful. I was so sorry Roscoe couldn’t stay longer. but he seemed anxious to get back to New York. Husband went down to the depot to see him off. ' 'MmConkâ€"Yes, how that I come to think of it, I believe I heard something about it at the time. Kateâ€"0h, yes ; my husband thinks a great deal of Roscoe. He was very angry when Ros- coe went away. He spoke about him very fre- quently after he left. The Professor and he were deep admirers of Roscoe. Mrs. Conkâ€"The Professor. Kateâ€"Yes ; Prof. Link, our music teacher. He wasâ€" ‘ Mrs. (Jouleâ€"Now, look nhere. Kate Spr ague I’ll stand anything but that German Pro- fessor dodge ; but tlml’s just too awful thin ! Professor, indeed? Do you suppose that I don’t see through that game? Do you sup- pose I’ve been married to Roscoe Conkling all these years not to have found him out? Oh, you horrid, fat, deceitful thing ! Oh, youâ€", etc. __ > WHOLE NO. 1,121.â€"N0, 38; â€"House property in towns finds a, market in Ireland now. There is no sale for country property. TIIEIEK RECIINCILIATION. l The preamble states the desirability felt by the authorities of the State of New York and of Ontario of restoring the scenery surround- ing the Falls to its natural condition, and of making strenuous endeavors to prevent de- terioration, as well as to aflord totravelers and others facilities for seeing the different points of interest to the best advantage. For the gradual accomplishment of these purposes the Bill gives authority to the Minister of Public Works to acquire and take possession of any lends, streams, fences or walks, which he may deem expedient, and for the acquiring of such lands and appurtenances the Minister is empowered to contract - with the owners thereof, being invested with the powers of the Commissioner of Public Works for the pur- chase of such lauds. Any disputes arising out of the purchase of lands under this Act shall be settled by the arbitrators appointed under the provisions of the Public Works Act, 31 Vic. ~â€"A1though British savings banks pay high interest, each year proves that the public pre- fer the 3 per cent. of the government. â€"A sale by auction of a tract of land fifty- one by thirty-eight miles in area, in Kansas, is to be made to satisfy a mortgage of $5,000,- 000. â€"â€"A physician says that people become thin by eating salt meat and smoking cigars. A. sort of mixture of corn beef and eabbage leaves ? Section 6 provides for the absolute pur. chase of the lands for the compensation agreed upon or settled by the arbitrators, subject to no claim or encumbrance to be payable out of the compensation money paid by the Mmâ€" ister of Public Works. â€"â€"Two hundred families of Philadelphia Quakers will form a colcny in Minnesota, on the Northern Pacific Railroad, next spring. â€"For sleeplessness & high: London author- ity recommends, instead “of stimulants, . breakfast cup effigy 12,99: tép. m'atle hpm halt â€"A husband whose wife had joinetl the ranks of the crazy religious enthusiast, Mrs. Girling, in the south of England, stormed the camp last month, and! after a fierce contest of fifty minutes, carried ofl the tmant vi at armis. Section 7 gives the Minister the right to abandon any proposed purchase within six months after the arbitrators' award has been made, but paying to the owner any reason- able charges incurred in the proceedings. A It will Be seen from this -that thisraarling project of the Earl of Dufierin has now some chance of being ultimately carried out. (From the Glen Cove Gazette.) Glen Cove goes to the front with the “boss hen,” not a. mere ordinary egg laying hen,but a. singing hen. a, hen that sings “Hold the Fort" With all the unction of a. Widow Van Cott at a camp meeting. This biped is the pet of a young lady of this village. She has taught the hen to accompany her as she sings the hymn, and the pullet does it with a vim, a gravity and propriety creditable to poultry nature. She has only to“ start the mleody and the pullet joins in and sings along with her to the end, following the scale and minding the rests in a, way that would delight the most exacting choir-master ; and what is more and to the hen’s credit, she doesn’t giggle during the rehearsal, nor flirt, nor eat peanuts or candy, nor munch chew- ing gum, nor get in a huff, nor manifest any other of the usual and soul-harrowing eccen- tricities of musical genius. As a matter of singing genius Glen Cove’s singing hen is as far superior to the boasted egg-laying hens as the lustre of Aldelaran is to the glitter of a pinlizad' 1n the pinafores of beauty dancing at charity balls. â€"-Voting a. ring to the handsomest 414341 always an enjoyable affair, without the least ill- feeling or jealousy, and the homely girk never say a word. ‘ ' â€"A New York paper has published a m. mance to the efiect that Cal Wagner is now drawing a salary of $500 a week. In a. good. season Cal Wagner is worth, to a. prodigal manager, about $50 a Week, and that is pro- bably what he gets. â€"The Italian Government has repeated its warning against emigration to Algeria and Tunis, which is continuing in alarming pro. portions, despite privations there, leading some to commit crimes in order to get into prison and escape starvation. Authorizina lhe “mm-i0 Government to Proceed in the Muller. ‘ A few months ago a conference took plane between Commissioners from Ontario and thl State of New York with respect to the proposed erection of the locality about Niagara Fall! into a sort of International Park. As the re. sult of that conference definite action is like- ly to be taken by the government of New York, and the following is the substance of a bill which has been introduced into the Legislative Assembly hero by the Attorney- General :â€" â€"By previous agreement. the keepers and irequenters of saloons of Albia, Iowa, pra- tended to be unconscious of the presence of the women who made a recent raid. but con- tinued their diversions as though nothing unusual was going on. The women held several prayer meetings, but at last got angry and went home. â€"Now Jersey is not regarded as a. fur countrv, yet muskrat trapping is made a con- siderable business in the southwestern part of the State. These rodents burrow along the edges of creeks and ditches in greatnum- hers, but are wary and difficult to cafch. Their hides qe sold to the furriers at ten to fifteen cents each. â€"There has been no creation of a peerage in Lord Beaconsfield’s administratien since Lord Norton’s in 1878, nor of a bamnetcy since Sir Andrew Buchanan’s in 1876. There are now 577 peers or peeresses and 865 bar'- onets, making a. little over 1,400 persons who are possessed of hereditary dignities out of a population of thirty odd millions. â€"-A litigant at Owen, 0., said to his coun- sel, “ Abuse the defendant. and I’ll take 31B the consequences.” So the lawyer spoke of the enemy as a. perjured, thieving, murderous villain. and got soundly whipped for it as soon as court adjourned. He has now sued his client for damages, on the ground that the promised protection was not afforded. â€"â€"â€"Chemists have found in the smoke of a cigar acetic, formic, butyric, valeric and pro~ pionic acids, prussio amid, creosote and car- bonic acid. ammonia, sulphretted hydrogen. pyridine, vix‘idine, picoline. lutidine, collodiue parvoline, oorodine and rubidene. And yet a. New York woman was fined $10 and costs: for assaulting a. man who blew cigar smoke in; her face. ' â€"â€"The Sultan recently ordered the dismissal of all the Englishmen serving in the Ottoman navy. Upon the Naval Minister begging to observe that the servrce would be disorganized: by the loss of the engineers and artisans, most: of whom were English. the Sultan demandedi a list of the British na m1 employees, express- ing at the same time hisdetermination to die» miss, if not all, at least the greater part of them. â€"â€"A unique suggestion for aiding the Irish distress is made by Industry, a weekly organ: nf the manufacturing interests in London. It; thinks that the governments should authorize the establishment of a. lottery similar to that organized in France for the benefit of the. sufferers by the Spanish inundations, and‘, that a million of money could easily be raised} by such an expedient if some such authoritaâ€" tive body as the corporation of London were ‘ allowed to take it in hand. Something of the kind was hinted at after the collapse of the unfortunate Glasgow Bank, but the legal authorities set their foot on it. GLEN COVE’S SINGING HEN AROUND THE WORLD- AGA RA FA LLS PA “K.