~Emil Francois married a quadroon woman in Texas, where intermarriage between whites and those possessing any negro blood is a penal offense. He was convicted and sent to prison for ï¬ve years. The convict received much sympathy, for his wife was nearly white, and his love for her was quite sincere. The case was carried to the Texas Court of Appeals, which now declares the law under which Francois was convicted to be in conflict with the Fourteenth Amendment and therefore inoperative. Two years of the imprisonment. however, have already been served, “Hfâ€"Th2, grand anisombre pageant at St. V Petersburg, on the occasion of the funeral of the Czar, brought out such a demonstratioa of peasants and burghers an is seldom seen in any capital, and attested the fact that Nihilism, ‘ what: ver hold it may have in the hearts of‘ the people, has not yet blunted their sensi- bilities or eradicated their respect for royalty. Such a pageant was probably never before witnessed in Russia. â€"â€"Because a native woman had been de- livered of twins, the Indian seers prophesied that unless one of them died the seals would not come again to the sealing grounds on the British Columbia coast. So the parents carried the babes into the bush, and began a course of incantation and starvation. In the midst of the rites, Father Nicolai of the Roman Catholic mission suddenly appeared and induced the parents to give the babes proper nourishment. The twins lived, the catch or seals was uncommonly large, and the seers have lost all prestige in the vil- lages. ‘ -- The great winner of late at cards, says the London Truth. has had a reverse of for- tune. He had won £30,000, vizv. £14,000 at ecarte, of which he was paid £7,000, and £16,- OJO at baccarat, of which he was paid £11.- 000. This £18,000 has now gone as it came, and about £6,000 in addition. As a. lew months ago the gentleman had nothing, he is in a better position than when he began oper- ations. if the debtor and creditor accounts are ever settled, which is somewhat improbable, the peculiarity of modern play being that it seems perfectly optional Whether the loser pays his losses or not. â€"â€"-Of English greate- naval and military commandersNelson. born in Norfolk,bears a plainly Scandinavian name, while Wolfe was a native of Kent. On the western side, Dev- onshire not only claims the greater part of the see captains and explorers of Elizabeth’s reign ~Drake, Hawkins. Sir Richard Grenville and Sir Walter Raleigh-but also that great genius for war, Churchill, Duke of Marlbor- ough, born near Axminster. Blake, as great a seamen as Nelson, belongs to Somerset. As to the Duke of Wellington, we need hardly mention that he was an Irishman, as are Sir Frederick hobgrts and Sir Garnet Wolseley. â€"Colonel Thomas W. Knox, of New York, has received from the King of Siam the de» comtion of the " Most Exalted Order of the White Elephant.†because of his handsome treatment of Siam in his books of travel. This is the ï¬rst time such a distinguished order has ever been conferred on an American, and it carries with it bushels of rights and privileges. Colonel Knox is entitled by it to seven wives, to be addressed as High Old Exalted. and to be ranked as a White Elephant at dinners, besides having the exceptional privilege of committing hari- kari, instead of being hung or beheaded, when it is necesswy for him to depart this world. â€"â€"Settlers in Nebraska have had a rough experience this winter. One of them writes of a neighbor having had a child die during a. violent snow storm and being unable to bury it for over a. week, it being impossible to get through the deep snow with it. When the farmers rode to town to get the mail or groceries they invariably took shovels along to dig a way out in case their horses got stack. The early flll‘lV‘ll of winter took many farmers by surpriseand 3 large quantity of corn was left in the ï¬eldapf which urgent need has sinc been had. ~The Ladies†Association is a. St. Louis society for the improvement of that city’s morale The members united in praying for a. better board of police commissioners, and in a few days two commissioners were removed to make places for two pious men. This was regarded as a great victory. But prayer is not the only means employed. The women demmd the closing of the theaters on 3511 ndays, enl are circulating petitions for that purpose. They have adopted the Boy- cottinz; system, by resolving to buy anyhing of any machaut who refuses to sign. Thor- licht ck Donaleer. a dry goods ï¬rm, are the ï¬rst to brave the anger of the Ladies’ association. â€"The London World wonders how any one can write such stuff as the American newe- peper story that Sarah Bernhardt wears & girdle, six hundred years old, which came from India. was for a. long time one of the treasures of the British Royal family. and was presented to the actress by the Prince of Wales because he was not pleased with the girdle she wore in the role of Adrienne Le- couvreur. -â€"Archdencon Paley is said to have put the extinguisher on the prospects of a mitre by choosing as his text at the Umversity church, Uambridge on the occasion of Pit» being there soon after he became Prime Minister: " There in a lad here which hath ï¬ve barley loaves and two small ï¬shes, but what me they among so many T‘ This was assumed to be a rebuke to the reverend place hunters, ~â€"An ingenious merchant of Konigsberg, Prussia has been making money by advertis- ing for feminine correspondents with a View to matrimony, and then threatening to pub- lish the lemurs received by him unless the fair writers paid him to refrain. He was at- rested in the post ofï¬ce at Hanover while taking mmney thus exhorted out of a letter. â€" There is a reform club at Rochdale. Mass , which holds public meetings to promote total abstinence from strong drink. Bibles and gO-mal hymn books are used on these occasions. Fourteen members of the club are Roman Catholics. and the pastor of their church has ordered them to withdraw, which several decline to do. â€"-Dr. James Abernathy and John F. Aber- nathy, although not related. were born on the same day, married twin sincere on the Hume day. and, after living to be three more and ten years of age, died recently at their homes in Gaston, N. (3., on the same day, but their residences Were ï¬ve miles apart. â€"Russian immigmzita in Kansas use small brickrlined porcelain stoves, in order to economize fuel, and Yankee ingenuity has devised a way of compressing prairie hay, so that it serves exceljentlj,‘ for fuel in these stoves. __ When the betrothed of a young lady in Boston Socieiy is announced, he!" gentlemen friends signify their congratulations by send- ing ‘her bouquets and baskets of flowers. They call this “ the latest fashionable Parisian whim." â€"â€"A man assisted at the burial of a. person who had died of small-pox at New Britain, Conn. Then he got drunk and went home without changing his clothes. His children are now down with the disease. â€"â€"It is said that the characteristlcs of the aasthetic world, as naricntured 1n Punch and in turn or three modern plays, will be utilized by Gilbert, and Sullivan in their forthcoming Operetta. «Bits of branches of cherry, apple. pear. 1m: and other trees and shrubs taken into the hnuse now and kept standing in a. vase of water wxll blossom in a week or two. ~'1‘he shearing corrals of Delano, Kern county, Cal, present a scene of curious ac. tiviny, no less than 130 expert shearers being engaged in clipping the fleece from 200,000 sheep. â€"â€"Tha sriectators at the Whittaker trial are learning a great deal about chirogmphic analys's, bu: very little as to the authorship of the threatening letters. ~Poiron in the dye of a yellow killed a woman .in Amsterdam, N. Y AROUND THE WORLD. stocking A minute’s silence, then Glare said, “I gave it to Mr. Feversham, Aunt. and asked an explanation. which I have a right to do, we are engaged.†“ I have it in my pocket,†said the gentle- man, producing it, and giving it to Mrs. Montgomery with a, little how, he added in his languid. drewling way, “rawther sur- prised that you should correspond with my uncle ; alway considered rswther a dangerous old fellsh with the ladies: has a. cheractsh for gallantry and â€"a.w »- that sort of thing. Al we are to be related you will -a.w â€"pa.rdon me for mentioning it, I am suah. I may as well say good-bye. Clara, as it’s so late "-he stooped and kissed her forehead, as much to her surprise as her aunt’s annoyanceâ€"“if you will take my arm. Mrs. Montgomery, the step is a little unsafe in the moonlight ; allow me to carry thst bag,†and he tucked his stout little enemy under his arm, saucily proâ€" tecting her; tenderly helped her into the buggy; turned the horse and civilly started her on her way, offering at the very last to accompany her if she felt at all nervous. She did not feel nervous, but very angry, knowing that for the present she was defeated, and not knowing how to turn the tables upon him; and he went home by no means so sure of victory as he could have wished, for he had come into Clara’s presence that night in a very doubtful and troubled frame of mind, and encountered her with a tender, reproach- tul “ my love.†“ So much thht if I marry you and you come to regret it I sha. lbe the most miserable womm; living,_†Yvas the rgply: “ Let us sit down and talk about it,†he said, and then followed an hour’s tender, special pleadin . His friends wanted him to wait for and marry a little deformed girl twelve years old, his cousin voand this for her money. Could any man worthy the name be guilty of such baseness, such meanness? It was not in him to do such a thing. “ But, Mr. Feversham â€"A†" Call me Ja~ack.â€â€˜ “ Jack would confuse you with Jack Mont- gomery. I meant to call you Horace, if â€"" she paused. “ You mean to call me Horace, dear Clara.†“ I don’t know about that. I am afraid I have made a. great mistake in being engaged to you," she said, with a timid, tremulous kind of nervousness. “ I have thought about marrying long ago â€"-I suppose all girls doâ€" and I am sure marriage is a very sacred thing. I thought of it as a sweet and solemn transition from one set of happy duties to another, made with the kind approval and blessings of dear friends and relatives; but all my friends disapprove, and look coldly on me ; act as if they thought I was doing some- thing very foolish and wrong; and I have known them all my life, and they have been so kind; their disapproval hurts me more than you can think, more than they can dream. I do like you very much, but if you would only be satisï¬ed with a little less, and let me have you for a dear brother like Jack Montgomery. You said our engagement would bring mepeaoe, but, ah X it has not." “ Yoï¬ promised not to call me names, sir,†she answered with a brilliant blush. “ Befom company, and. have I not kept my word? But you are my love, for I love you, and I thinkxl hppe you love me a little." This to Mrs. Montgomery, who feared no- thing in heaven or earth but a thunder storm, money and temper being powerless as anti dates for forked lightning She was too angry to be politic, and did not even thank him, or suggest to her niece that she would like to stay all night, but rose at once and put on her shawl, saying, “ I left a note for you to see this morning Clem, and would like to have it back if you have read it." } Mrs. Montgomery thought she would, and ltook off her bonnet and shawl, while Clara hastened to make her hospitable arrange- ments. Briggs was still up, being deter- mined not to retire for the night till “ that impident young prig" was off the premises, so supper was soon on the table. If any- thing could have put Mrs. Montgomery in a. good temper that supper would, butjhe pies- ence of Mr. Feversham counteracted the chicken salad, though he was equally atten- tive and polite to both ladies, It irritated her to hear him call her niece †Clara,†and she wished he would go home, and at last bluntly asked if he wae going to stay all night. Click went the eye-glass, and Mr. Feversham paused for a. full minute as he looked at her, before answering. “ I am ~awâ€"waiting to see you to your carriage ; thought 1 could turn the horse for you. It’s awfully awk‘ ward for a lady to drive alone, and so late; if you feel afraid I will drive you home.†“ Would you not like a little supper au_n_ty ?’_’_ she said ; ‘f you musl be tired.†ABSOLUTELY HER OWN MISTRESS. BY J. T. J. “ I Iaid- our ' mairiage would â€Bring you The farmer turned the horseshoe round, And showers began to swell the ground: The sunshine laughed among his grain, And heaps and heaps piled up the wain; The loft his hay could barely hold. His cattle did as they were told ; His fruit trees needed sturdy props To hold the gathering apple crop~; His turnip and potato ï¬elds Astonished all men by their yields _; Folks never saw 5 lab ears of corn As in his smiling hills were born ; His barn was full of hoisting bins â€"A His wife presented him with twins; His neighbors marveled more and more To see the increase in his store; And now the merry farmer sings, " There are two ways of doing things ; And when for good luck you. would pray, Nail up the horseshoe the right way." â€"J(Lmes T. Fields \Vhile thus dismaved o'er matters wrong An old man chanced to trudge along, To whom he told, with wormwood tears, How his aï¬airs were in arrears. And what a. desperate state of things Apicked-up horseshoe sometimes brings. The stranger asked to see the shoe, The farmer brought it; into view: But when the old man raised his head, He laughed outright and quickly said, “ No wonder skies upon you frown, You've nailed the horseshoe upside down! You turn 117 round, and soon you‘ll see HOW you and Fortune will agree." Next spring a great drouth baked the sod, And roasted every pea in pod; The beans declared they could not grow 50 long as nature acted so; Redundant insects reared their brood To starve for lack of juicy food; The staves from barrel-sides went off As if they had the whooping-cough, And nothing of the useful kind To hold together felt inclined ; In short, it was no use to try While all the land was in a fry. One morn, demoralized with grief, The farmer clamored for relief; And prayed right hard to understand \Vhat witchcraft now possessed his land; Why house and farm in misery grew Since he nailed up that “ lucky" shoe‘ VOL. XXIII. A farmer traveling with his load Picked up a horseshoe in the road, And nailed it fast to his barn-door, That iuck might down upon him pour, That every blessing known in life Might crown his homestead and his wife, And never any kind of harm Descend upon his growing farm. But dire ill-fortune soon began To visit the astounded man. His hens declined to lay their eggs, His bacon tumbled from the pegs, And rats devoured the fa‘len legs : His corn. that never failed before, Mildewed and rotted on the floor; His grass refused to end in hay, Hil wattle died, or went astrayâ€" In short, 11.11 moved the crooked way. THE LUCKY HORSESHOE Fir-l Partâ€"iron rtship. †011 l Aunty, I cannot hear you to speak in this way, as if Horace were a rogue and only wanted my money, not me. If I trust him with my life, my happiness. I may well trust him with things of less worth. Do you think he is not welcome to such poor things as house and land, when I give him what is a thousand times better ? Set- tlement indeed ! The promise he makes at the altar is settlement enough. If honor and love do not bind him to his word do I care that the law should? Would I yield up all that is dear and sacred to his keeping and yet with hold such a petty thing as my purse 7 If I like him as a husband I give all, I with- hold ncthing. If he deserts his charge, if he destroys what he has sworn to protect, then let him, and take the consequences. And as for deferring the wedding, he might as well take me now as later, for I see I shall have no peace from you, till I am his wife.†This blaze of anger was suddenly quenched in a burst of tears as she concluded. Mr. Fever- sham put her hand to his lips and went away without a word, and Mrs. Montgomery declar- ing that her son was a fool~a natural born, for standing there whistling instead of getting the horse, as she was clearly in the way, and not welcome, soon took her departure. But Clara left alone was not happy. the unpopu- larity of her marriage weighed heavily upon her, and much that should have been sweet, was bitter. When the wedding dress was brought home, and Sally was in raptures of admiration, and called on her mother for sympathy, Briggs only shook her head and elghed. “ Law! yes it's ’andsome I don‘t deny †she said, †I an’t seen anything near so ’andsome since I seed Mrs. McCollop’s shroud, and the quillin’s 0’ white satin is much the same. Poor dear â€-â€"here she sighed again »â€"â€"“ I am sure I hope as she‘ll be ’appy, but there~there’s no saying," and she sighed once more and went away. leaving Sally and her mistress looking rather blank. Clara was the ï¬rst to recover, and gave an odd short laugh, which broke the ice for Sally. “ I could beat mother," she exclaimed, “ when she goes on that way ; was ever any- thing more aggravating and contrary than she is ?" Not a word more was said about de- ferring the wedding, till Mrs. Montgomery received another note from the elder Fever- sham naming the day he would come, and urging a delay if possible. She sent it at once to the lawyer, with a line of explanation. and he had scarcely had time to gather the sense of what he was reading when Mr. Feversham and Jack Montgomery entered his oflice together. One gave him a brisk. the other a languid good day. and Mr. Feversham as spokesman said he’d called ~-aw-â€"â€"to ar- range a mattah of business with him. Mul~ rooney’s last instalment of the farm fell due, the day before his own intended marriage, he could pay the instalment. but it would â€"-awâ€"â€" leave him short of money when he needed it most. He would, therefore. be glad to borrow two hundred dollars on a note of hand. Mr. Jaâ€"ack here wouldâ€"awâ€"baâ€"aok the note. “ These are the things you must say to my unclu, madam. He‘ll be delighted to hear that We are not respectable. I’m suah ; and m»: for the engagement, with Clara’s con- sent, 1’11 end it to-morrow, in one way, if you like, and that will content you. 1 have the license ready,†“ The marriage settlements ought to be looked to,†said Mrs. Montgomery, when Clam suddenly interrupted her, by exclaim- ing :7 †Mr. Feversham, I know nothing about the respectability of your family†said Mrs. Montgomery, whose temper was rising. †and for that reason I object to the engage- mum.†“ I’m afraid Glam will think me tame enough if‘I consent. to defer the wedding,†he said with provoking good humor ; " be- sides-â€"aw-I've heard its unlucky to put a wedding 03. If you wish to see my uncle, I'll send a telegram to the old boy, unless â€"a.w--â€" you have anticipaned me.†The young men 5 eyes met with a. quick look of intelligence, and they smiled. Mr. Feveraham recognized a {riend in the camp. ‘~ All the mor'e reason that he should have a keeper," said Jack Montgomery, speaking for the ï¬rst time. “ That. isâ€"aw â€"a. matter of opinion,â€â€" drawled Mr. Feversham. †Customs dif- faw.†“Au Ito be plain with you, sir, I have heard that ygu _a.re very wild.†" In is scarcely deem} to marry afterisuch a short acquaintance and still shorter engage- ment.†Clam felt anndyed at this speech, but her gum/s answer annoyed her still more. “ Will yâ€"ou cbnsent to“ defer the marriage? You see Clara wishes it.†“She wishes to please everybodyâ€"my sweet Clam but if she pleases you in this matter, she Wiil notâ€"aw-â€"plaase me." †You willâ€" aw~--know me better in time,†said the young gentleman signiï¬cantly. “ My unglgigequally a. stranger.†"1 can‘t. know when. you've done or not done; I should like to talk to your uncle about you.†she replied. “you are almost a stranger to us.†“ Why, Mrs. Montgomery. what sin have I committed." ne exclaimed, turning no that lady with mom animaiion than Jack had ever seen in him, “ except that I love your niece? Am I to be punished for than?" Jack, who had culled with his mother, gave a long whistle and said, “ now we‘ll see what stuff he’s made of. I know what I’d do," and Mr. Fevershum arriving at that moment Clara mentioned her aunt’s request, and told him her fenlmg, about it. Clara was more worried than ever by read- ing her aunt‘s letter, add after much troubled thought, told the old lady that she would put 03 the wedding a fnrtnight longer if Mr. Feversham would consent to do so. “I do hope the girl will give in,†she ex- claimed pathetically, “ and that we may set her against him after all. for do you know cordwood has risen, and if that ï¬ne beech and maple on Clara’s farm was cut and sold for saven dollars a cord, it Would fetch a pretty penny, and would stock the farm for Jack." When Mrs. Montgomery heard that the wedding-day was ï¬xed, she made a last ï¬ght to delay the marriage. Another wily letterâ€" dictated by the lawyerâ€"was sent to Clara, in which her aunt earnestly begged her to defer the wedding till the elder Mr. Feversham came from Ottawa; then if she still wished to go on with it Mrs. Montgomery would not say a word against it. " They say the lady is fair; ’tis a, truth; I can bear t1 em witness; and W138 but for loving me. "â€"MUCH A130 ABOUT No'rnma. “ The peniï¬entiary '2' Very well, anywhere with you, but the wedding ceremony over, I i at least, refuse to repent, come what will.†peace, and I say so still dearest. The engage- ment was only that you might know me bet- ter,†and without either eye glass or drawl he argued the expediency of an immediate mar- riage. I will not weary the reader with a repetition of the conversation verbatim, it is suï¬icient to say that Clara, though but half convinced, consented to let Mr. Feversham drive her to Hamilton the next day and choose the wedding dress. consented to be married that day foxtniglit. “ And we will go to the White mountains for a wedding tour, my love,†concluded Mr. Feversham. “ The hill breezes will blow away everything unpleasant; you dwell too much on little disagreeables, and want a. change." " I have alway‘s’ thought I should like to visit_I_’enetanguishene," said Clara. CHAPTER X‘ RICHMOND HILL, THURSDAY, APRIL 7. 1881 Mr. Feversham said “ bettah late than nevah,†and was very civil. He oflered the gentlemen wine or 8.13 as they pleased. and it was brought ; paid the last instalment. and Mr. Martineau told over the money and gave it into the Mulrooney’s hand ; certain docu- ments were signed, the servants being called in as witnesses, then he lauguidly asked if there was any “ dowahs†in the case ? Had Mr. Mulrooney a. wife? At this the Irish gentleman’s wrath rose. “ Do ye mane to insult me, ya beggarly sooundhrel on the hearthOBtone ye tuck from me ?†he asked in a thundering voice. “ If ye‘re a man. come on and foight.†At this unexpected attack Mr.Feversham lifted his eyeglass, and after staring delib- erately at the Mulrooney, turned an inquir- ing glance on the lawyer, who shrugged his shoulders, and said Mr. Mulrooney wan un- married. “ Confusion to ye," said Mr. Mulrooney continuing to address Mr. Feversham, and pouring himself out a. brimming glass of ale. “ I hate ye, and dhrink confusion to ye. Sor- row be wid ye this day and foriver; the divil go behind ya in 3.11_ your undhertakings, and be there before ye, for casting; out oye on the leedy I love " He rose to his feet as he spoke, and ï¬lled theglass for the second time and emptied it. " You know to-morrow is the wedding day." â€"TAmNG or Tun Snunw. How often have we been told â€"and never tire of hearingâ€"of the conduct of noble pris- oners the night before execution; how his- torians love to dwell upon the way brave General Wolfe spent his last evening before the siege of Quebec, and his own victory and death; how calmly and admiringly he read Grey's elegy and sang his last song with the middies. Have we not heard again and again of Wellington‘s peaceful rest before a great action, and Napoleon’s on the very ï¬eld of battle? Ye who rejoice in the calmness of heroes before events great and terrible, follow me to the house of thelllesrW John Horace Francis Augustus Feversham, and behold him the night before his marriage. He is indoors â€"thoagh the night is sultryâ€"lazily reclining in a large arm-chair and smoking his cigar. He is clearly expecting something or someâ€" body, as he glances at the clock, and occa- sionally compares it with his watch. The French windows are open, and the scent of a blush rose mingles with that of the cigar. It is the very room where the Mulroeney‘s held their council of war, but altered. enlarged and handsomely furnished. It is the future Mrs. Feversham’s drawingroom, and our young gentleman had strolled in there to dream of the future Mrs. Feversham, to think of her eyes when last they looked at him, her sweet expressive mouth, the way the color came and ‘ went in her sensitive face, her plump and shapely white hand. The night is very still and intensely hot, not a leaf stirs; the moon is full clear and bright, not a sound is to be heard but the ticking of the clock till the distant tramp of horses breaks the silence. Mr. Feversham comes to life, he is glad, he rises, throws away the cigar and looks out. The sounds approach nearer, he can hear the horsemen’s tongues as they stop before his gate; presently they are ushered into the room, and the elder gentleman steps for- ward with a profuse apology for :not coming in the morning. It is Mr. Martineau and Mr. Patrick Mulrooney; the lawyer having delayed until this late hour in the hope of bringing the elder Feversham with him ; but he had been to the station in vain. He had conversed with Mr. Mulrooney as they came along, and gave him the p‘easing intelligence of Mr. Feversham’s intended marriage on the morrow. being quite unconscious of the Irish gentleman’s warm feelings for Miss Clara. This information so shocked! Mr. Mulrooney that he found it necessary to stop at Mount Hope. and indulge in tbr 9 glasses of his favorite beverage “ old Allen,†but calling for a fourth he was told that the barrel was obliged to take “ old Tom" as a substitute. The combined effect of these two gentlemen was to make the moon appear like two moon’s as he approached his late residenca, and he glared at his rival with eyes ï¬xed and blood shot as he entered that gentleman’s drawing room. “ Ye beggarly whanderer, ye bloody Saxon." pursued the Mulrooney, “ my anscesthers wor princes in Oirland befera won of ye set fut on the shore, an’ ye presume to take the leedy of me choice. If ye won’t ï¬ght me like a man, I'll shoot ye at the althar like a dog them _ye are. __ Will ye foight '2" “ Come. come sir." remonatrated Mt. Mar- tinenu to the Irishman. “your words are actionable. threats are not permitted in the law. You speak very rashly.†“A’wâ€" really you-muatuexcuse me. Used to be a tolerable bomb, but~aw~rawther out of practice. " Mr. Fevershnm of Ottawa, determined to come to Glanford at once, but holding an of- ï¬ce in the Government, was obliged to get the consent of certain persons in high authority before he could stir a. foot. In the meantime the bride’s cake and the bridesmaids’ dresses were making, the best tailor in Hamilton was busy upon two new suite of clothes, one for J ack Montgomery and the other for Mr. Gus tavus Adolphus Browne, who were to be best men at the wedding (Clara paying for Jack’s suit, as his mother refused to give a penny towards it) and Briggs was sulkily cleaning and furnishing the house. briskly helped by her daughter Sally. 'As soon as they had gone, Mr. Martinean acquainted Mrs. Montgomery with what had taken place, and wrote all particulars to the elder Fevershnm, urging him to come at once or else send some alarming intelligence to his nephew to induce him to postpone the wed- ding and leave the country ; and then he took lunch with his partner» and laughed heartily at the whole aï¬uir, comparing Miss Mont~ gomery to a plump, beautiful white pigeon, and Mr. Feversham and his stout opponent to two crows, each bent upon having her for a. prey. That would do very well, Mr. Feversham said ; he only wanted it for hil wedding tour, and was anxious to settle with Mulrooney be- fore leaving ; they had better come in the morning. “ Would it do to bring you the money then or shall I send it earlier?" Then he should have it at that time without fail, should have had it to-dey, but his clients, as a rule, were so unwilling to lend on a note of hand. Mr. Martineau would be perfectly willing to trust Mr. Fevershem without a hacker. This, with the greatest courtesy, knowing in his heart, the old fox, that Jack’s name was not worth a farthing, as he poss- essed no property, all belonging to his mother absolutely. Chatting 9.311ny with these two innocents. he found out the date ï¬xed for the wedding, and proposed that he should bring Mulrooney to Mr. Fevereham the duty before, deliver up the deeds, and receive the last in- atalment' “ Yes,†Mr Feversham drawled “ that will do very well. " “2' In an instant it flashed into the old lawyer’s mind that he could delay the marriage. per- haps put a stop to it ï¬nally, if he handled the young gentleman judiciously and concealed his own tactics. Here at last was a peg to hang his but upon. “ Would they kindly sit down, and wait a. few minutes,†he said. It was difï¬cult. very difï¬cultâ€"small as the loan was-to accommodate them today, but he would do his best. When would they want the moneyâ€"would 8. week hence do? CHAPTER XI. .; And the lawyer‘s Bflioes névértï¬bpen before ten, and that’s the hour ï¬xed for thawedding," ,[V, r ______ “ J9. ack, †said our hero, " I‘m in a dayvle of a. ï¬x. The old lawyer disappointed me about the money and I have only three dollars left, not enough for the person’s fee. And there‘s a. week’s wages due to the masons and carpenters. and my English remittance due a month since has nevereeme to hendl expect my uncle is purposely delaying in it Ottn-wa, and I rather think the old lawyer is playing into his hands and your mother's.†7‘ I have been talkmg to Miss Clara,mothet, she’s been dreamin’ of her father.†While Briggs was propheeying and Clara dreaming Mr. Feversham was entering briskly through the moonlight to Mrs. Mont- gomery’s house, where everybody had been in bed for some hours. He knocked gently with his whip handle. and in a few minutes Jack appeared at the door in a. state of dishabille which I forbeer to describe, lest my fair read- ers should say I am not a proper person. Jack whistled in dismay. and skipped from one toe to the other in the moonlight. “Haven‘t a cent in the world,"he said, “ spent the last on 9. gift for Clara." The mistress would havea light at once. The note commenced with “ my love " and ended with " yours faithfully, " and Clara folded it and put it in her bosom, and fondled the bud in a manner half forlorn, half tender, as it it had been human. “ Put it in water. Sally,†she said, at last, “ and go to bed; I have had such a beauti- ful dream of my father. I thought he was blepsing me.†She élosed her eyes with a. weary sigh, and before Sally could ï¬nd a. glass for the bud drppggd gqntlx to sleep. ‘7 W119} has-kept yoï¬ up, you idle,daudling good-for-nothing 1'†asked Briggs in a. ï¬erce whisper,as Sally crept imo her room on tip 1:99. “ And a wuss dream couldn’t be," was the answer, " for if you dream 0’ one dead apd dear to you. why then you’re sure soon to see ’em. I see Miss dlara’s fate as plain as if it was wrote in ink atom me." Sally went away wondering and did as she was bid, and returned bridle in hand. Mr. Feversham charged her not to tell her mis- tress of his moonlight ride, but to go to bed like a sensible girl; and even while he was speaking the clock struck twelve. “ My wed- ding day‘ Sally,†he concluded, with a smile, “ so good-night to you.†Sally stealing into Miss Montgomery’s room on her way to bed heard a movement that made her know she was awake. She hesitated with the note and rose in her hand, when Clara’s gentle voice asked, “ Is that you, Sally." “ Yes, miss, and Mr. Feversham’s been and left a. letfer and a ï¬g safer: for yogf "That she is, sit, and what must she do after ten but tread on Miss Clam’s ring â€"the one you give herâ€"and crush the pearls into powder and break it right slap in ï¬wo pieces. It slipped off Miss Clara’sï¬ï¬nger, for she’s grown that thin Wi$h worritting she‘s not like herself. and they both got up to look for it, and that’s what happened and mother says it's the What omen of all, when I told her she threw up her ’ands with a. regular soreech and said ‘wuss and wusa.’ †“It’s a small matter to make such a. fuss about, I’ll get her a better. Go to the stable like a good girl. and get me a bridle. I have a fancy for a. center this moonlight night, and will catch Miss Clara’s pony as I pass the paddock." The gentleman touched his eye glass with the intention of crushing Sally, but changed his mind and said quite kindly and naturally. "You’re a good girl to care so much for your mistress. I’ll not forget it. Kind to her? I love her better than myself. I believe if she died I could not live. Give her this note when she wakes and the bud with my love. and be cheerful to-morrow and don’t cry as if it was a funeral. Sally. Mrs. Montgomery is here, I suppose ?†Once more alone he lighted his cigar, and gathered a handful of roses. and bringing them into the lamp, selected the most besu« tiful bud, and putting on his hat strolled down through the moonlight to Miss Mont- gomery's. It was striking eleven as He left his own house. Sally was waiting for him at the garden gate when he arrived. “ Is your mistress in bed ‘3 †he asked. “ Yes sir, and asleep with tears on her cheeks.†“ Did she expect meJSslly 7 " “ I think not, sir, she knowed as you-had business, but we’ve had an awful worriting day, and hard work to make the trifle and the jelly cake. It’s been that ’ot everything would he’ melted even in the cellar, but for the ice, and Mrs. Montgomery looking like thunder, and mother a sighing and groaning as if it was a funeral, and then the cake broke, and we had to bind it together with paper, and they do say it’s a. very bad I omen for the bride, and mother would tell her, as if she hadn’t enough, poor Miss Glare, without that. They’re not kind or cordial with her, but act as if they thought her a. fool for liking you, sir, and may be she is, sir. I don’t know, but she‘s that sensitive she feels it, and they speak that bed of you that I’m half sorry myself she’s taking you." Here Sally lifted her handkercl‘f to her eyes, and ended her speeches by sobbing out, “ oh ! be kind to her. Mr. Fevershsm.†‘ '5 Your courage does you credit," he said as he drew on his gloves, " quite a feather in you: cap.†> " Noï¬ a whine heath-ab, I hope," was the regly. “ They would alarm Miss Montgomery if she heard of them.†he replied, “ and if I put off the wedding, some kind friend would be sure to tell her the reason,†and he looked so keenly, at. the lawyer that the old gentleman began to grow uncomfortable under his gaze, and rose to take leave. " Thank you, with pleasure ; but he is no friend of mine. I wish you and Miss Clara. every happiness ; but do you not think my dear air, it would be better to defer the mar- riageâ€"safer in faceâ€"till this madman has left the neighborhood ? His threats are alarm- mg. “ Aw~thankl.†he drawled, “ it’s unne- cessary nowâ€"~I am provided. Will you not take a glass of wine or ale and toast me as your friend did 7 " The news was as great ashnck to Mr.’ Feversham, as the'nunouucement of his marriage had been to the Mulrooney yet not a muscle of his face changed and Mr. Martineau ceuld not tell that it affected him much. “ ifgreatly regret that I have been unable to do so.†said Mr. Martineau, “ but in a fevlrdays I have no doubt I shall succeed.’ V “Singulah charactab,†he said. " You succeeded m raising the~awâ€" loan {or me I suppose?†When Mr. Martineau returned. he found Mr. Feversham leaning against the mantel piece in the same attitude. †If ya go on with this thing to- -morrow, ye‘ll be going to your own ffuneral; ye ’re a. dead man, for I’ll shoot ye at the either, take the worrud of 1m Oirishmm anda. gintleman; ye shall niver have that leedy for your woife. I’ ll break ye in pieces loike this 3.11138 " He dashed it to the floor as he spoke, and strode out. of the window mistaking it for the door. Mr. Martineau followed remunstriting. “ Get we gone,†said the Mulrooney stemly. “ye’re dhrunk," and ï¬ndmg the horses w1th some difï¬culty. he mounted his own and rode oï¬" shaking his ï¬st at the house. “Awâ€"tha-â€"anks.†drawled Mr. Fevetsham, ‘ much obliged, I’m suah.†Waiting is always a long business. but at last there was asound of wheels, a momentary bustle at the door and the bride entered. lean ing on the arm of her father’s second cousin. Mr. Jackson. who looked both wise and venerable, though he was neither one nor the other; for his ï¬gure was tall and straight, his hair silvery white, his features of the kind we call aristocratic, large nose, receding forehead. florid complexion, mild venerable countenance. A more even tem pered, shallow pated. gentlemanly old fool never olï¬ciated at any wedding. He was a great authority in all questions of precedence and etiquette ; a high Tory,j that is. he Wished all civil government to stand exactly as it was from the beginning of the world. and none of your modem changes and modern innovations: a sound churchman, for he ï¬rmly believed he didn’t exactly know what, and despised all who differed from him ; a great advocate of matrimony, for if people don’t marry when they are young, why they are sure in time to become old maids and bachelors; a lover of!‘ short whist; a. patron of arithmetic, “ the best study in the world, sir, fonts practical and understand- able, and if you can prove that two and two make ï¬ve, I'll give up my opinion on that Although not a large wedding party, it was one of unusual splendor; the church had been scrubbed for the occasion : the person had a clean surplice, stiï¬ with starch and white as snow. He was not the regular in- cumbent. but a timid, gentle little man, who had taken his place while he went for a holi day. The bridegroom was dressed with great neatness and elegance, and looked more wide awake and less lackadaisieal than any one had ever seen himâ€"nay, even a little anxious as he played with the indispensib‘e gold- rimmed eye-glass. Jack Montgomery, re- splendent in white waistcoat and blue neck- tie, was talking in whispers to Mr. Gustavus Adolphus Browne, who looked as pink and white as a daisy, and quite eclipsed both Jack and the bridegroom in the splendor of his garments. There were a few spectators in the shape of neighboring farmers on their way to market, who had tied up their horses when they heard who was to be married, and come in to see Miss Clara in all her glory. There were also some women from over the way who always popped into the church when a wedding was going on, but nearly all the com- pany came with the bride. There is a. little English church perched picturesquely between Hamilton and Mount Hope. backed by a green ï¬eld and a pretty clump of trees. Just let any one of my read. ere take a ride from Hamilton on a ï¬ne May day and look for it; they will not regret the journey. Here a. small wedding party had assembled on one of the hottest June days known for many a. year ; all the Windows ere open, and the very air seemed wavey as at the mouth of a furnace. “ Awâ€"reallvl Well, I’m all the more obliged, Mr. Browne, that you giveme money instead of abuse, and a. bullet,†and at that they all laughed. and a hearty hand shake all round, and with a. friendly bark from the dogs by way of good bye, they parted. At this, the blushing, sqlllnt eyed, little fellow. reluctantly produced Den and ink, but steadily refused to have the note drawn with interest. “ He’s soft about Clara, you know," said Jack. in an explanatory way, “ would have proposed for her, I believe, if he had had the pluck.†Mr. Fevershem looked at the speaker keen- ly. as he answered, coming out of his drawl, “I am very much obliged to you, and thank you for your good opinion. If. is rather sin- gular,but if Mulrooney should settle me to- morrow, you would have others to deal wikh. not me, my uncle probably, end he would never pay you Without a document, so get pen and ink, if you please. It would beneï¬t no one for you to lose this money.†“ I can lend you two hundred dollars,†he said, “ and will do it with pleasure, Mr. Feversham. I would mortgage my farm twice over and sell every cow I have, be- fore I would see Miss Clara. annoyed.†“ Legal documents are only necessary as a. check upon rogues,†said Gustavus Adolphus. “ and are no} needed between gentlemen;vyour word is suï¬oie‘nt.††Awâ€"thanksâ€"then I had behï¬Ã©â€™rr draw a note of hand.†Presently two heads appeared at the win~ dow above, and Mr. Feversham was invited to ascend, and soon found himself in an apartment which looked as though it had recently been devastated by a hurricane; boots, shoes, coats, trowsers lay about in all directions ; a large wash-tub of soapy water, lin which Gustavus Adolphus had taken a , bath, occupied the middle of the very small room. and two collie dogs, who had never given mouth, or said a single word to the intruders sat inside it, wagging their tails, and doing the honors for their master, whose dresswbut I forbearâ€"agaiu my genius is cramped by my sense of propriety, and I am dumb. Mr. Feversham was provided with a chair. his best men sat on the side of the bed, and thus the three gentlemen held a. committee of ways and means at two o’clock a. m. on the wedding morning. Jack was spokesman, and briskly explained the state of the bridegroom’s ï¬nances, and Mr. Mul- roonev‘s threats. Whether it is a fact. as Sterne insisted, that men who are named after heroes are generally heroic. I cannot undertake to say. but certainly Gustavus Adolphus behaved nobly upon this occasion. He skipped across to a small chest of drawers, and took out his pocket book. “I often do it he explained to Mr. Feversham, when Gus and I want a. quiet chat, and not to be bothered with the W0- men.†So across the ï¬eld they went together, and Jack’s mode of rattling Mr. Browne up was not to knock at the front door, but simply to climb a post of the balcony and get into his room window. “ Awâ€"well, I’ll go across with you ; per- haps Mr. Brown could lend me all I want. I would pay a. high interest and be obliged as well.†“ Anything they can catch, and glad to get it," replied Jack, who had taken Mr. Fever- eham up to his room during this conversa- tion, and was now lcrambling into his gar- manta. “ Twice that would be rawther shabby, think; what' 18 lthe usual thing here ?" “ Oh! I’m quite with you. old fellow, about everything ; wouldn’t disappoint Clara. for the world, now she‘s made up her mind. I’ll tell you what, though, Gussy Brown sold some thoroughbred cattle at tho fair yester- day; suppose I run across and rattle him up; he would lend me ten do] am at any rateâ€" would that do for the fee 1’" “In that case you will have all the glory of capturing him, for I must go on with the ceremony â€"stick to my post, you knowâ€"un- less he settles me at the ï¬rst shot. You must stand on the other side of Clara, and cover her with your hrosd body, and keep on the alert. It’s the money troubles me most; it will delay us till the evening train if I borrow it in Hamilton, and what the devil I’m to do for the person’s feeâ€"but we understand each other. Jack. about Mulrooney ?†“And if he goes on drinking he’ll drink himself _mad and do it, too,†saidg Jack. " Of all mud matches. never was the like," -â€"TAMING on THE SHREW. said Mr. Feversham, and proceeded to relate the strung? qonduct of M1} _M_u_lroopey: 7 WHOLE N0. 1,184.-â€"N0, 44‘ we“ CHAPTER XII. ' “Wellâ€"ravéther,†was the i'élibemte reply, “ f2; I’am dry? A Then both bride and bridegroom asked for Jack Montgomery, who came with a dabbled shirt front, a. swollen nose, 9. tom coat and neck cloth all awry, to congratulate them, and Sign the rngiqter. He felt every inch II hero, and said. †so far I think We’ve done very well, but Gussy‘s new clothes are aw- ' “ Awâ€"how do uncle ‘2" he arawled. “ You ah rawther late, but. awâ€"bettah late than nevah. You’re in time to sign the register. Allow me to present Mrs. Feversham â€"this is my uqcle Qeorgg, Clays." At this the elder Mr. Fevereham removed his steady displeased glance from his nephew to the drooping, trembling‘ beautiful ï¬gure at his side. His face softened and he bowed, liitle rills of dirty water meandering towards the bride from his dripping garments. “ You have the mï¬-am‘ége of 7 me, J ack," was all he said as he stood back to allow the proce ion to 1913.35 139 the vgstrAy.“ At last the ring was put on, amid the roar: ing of the still unabated storm, and tnsling. struggling and swearing from the other end of the church, where Mr. Mulrooney showed a great deal of ï¬ght. and used much abusive language,before he was pinioned by Jack Mont- gomery, Gussy Browne, and two other young 1 fellows who came to their assistance. Clara knelt at the whisyered command of Mr. Fever- sham like a frightened child, without hearing one word more of prayer or exhor- tation, and at length amid deafening peals of thunder the benediction was pronounced, and the bridegroom, who had stood with his arm round Clara‘s waist for the last ï¬ve minutes, turned up her pale face with his hand and kissed it. Nobody else kissed or congratu- lated her except Mr. Jackson, who had stood bolt upright during the ceremony like a pillar of the church, as he was, anti who now said. “God bless me Clara, 1 hope He will bless you; but this is a queer beginning. my dear. I wish you every happinessâ€â€"here he saluted her on the cheekâ€"“ and you, too, Feversham, you lucky dog, you. Don't let us stick, my lad, since we’ve got so far, but come along and sign the register. Egadl what next ? What's this ?" He might well ask, for at that instant the church door burst open, and two drench€d gentlemen entered abruptly and banged it behind them; Mr. Martineau and a stranger, a ï¬ne, portly looking man who seemed to have his wits about him ; for, though dripping like an otter, he marched up the aisle with an air of authority, looking steadilv at Mr. Fuversham as be advanced, who, on his part, lifted his eyeglass and in- spected the new comer calmly. “ Hush! hush! dear l " said Mr. Fever- shem soothingly to his bride, and “ go on sir.†in a thundering tone to the clergyman, “ what are you waiting for 7 " But the poor little gentleman for a. moment was quite inca- pable of going on. _ He had been all his life a man of peace. and a bullet had just whistled past his ears, and another passed through the starched sleeve of his surplice ; he could not at once collect his faculties and proceed, and when at last he did, he forgot where he had left oï¬â€˜, and said in a very tremulous earnest voice “ God be merciful with as and bless us.†“ That's not the place.†said Mr. Fever- shang >wiEhr Lhe_ ring mill in his hand. " It’s flying in ï¬fe face of onvidence ? †said Mrs. Montgomery with a. loud audible sob “ to go on at all." “ Tutâ€"go on," said Mr. Feversham. and ‘on he went nervously and inaudibly till Mr. Feversham’s voice was again heard saying quite calmly, "I, John Clarence Francis Au- gustus take thee Claraâ€-â€"again all sound was deadensd and swept away by the fury of the storm. The thunder was like the continued roar of cannon, volley succeeding volley, and the sweeping of the Wind through the trees, the noise of owng rain. not dropping but descending Fm acts and â€torrents. all this disturbance in nature so unnerved the clergy- man, that when the ring was placed in his hand he dropped it, and Gussy Browne went down on his knees to look for it, luckily for himself, as at that instant the sharp crack of a pistol was heard distinctly amid the rush of the storm1 and a bullet whistled over his head passed through the clergyman‘s sleeve. Clara with a. cry of terror clung to Mr. Feversham. and Jack Montgomery rushed down the aisle and grappled with Mr. Mulrooney, in time to knock up his arm and divert his aim. and Gussy Browne having at last pounced upon the ring. placed it nurredly in Mr. Feversham's hand. and dashing after his friend Jack, gave him timely aid. “ Dearly beloved we are gathered together in the sight of Godâ€"†a growl of distant thunder seemed sent as a special responseâ€" “ and in the face of this congregation to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimonyâ€"†a rushing wind scattering the scents and fluttering the silks and laces, fol- lowed so rapidly by nearer prolonged peals of thunder and dropping rain. that the words were half lost till the clergyman raised his voice with the request that somebody would shut the windows. A bustle and the windows are closed ; a momentary lull in the storm and Mr. Feversham was heard to say “ Iwill," when a blinding flash of lightning followed by e pea] resembling the creek of a thousand rifles right above the building as it seemed, caused the ladies to scream, some of the gen- tlemen to rush out to look to the horses. and the clergyman to say “ we had better wait a little â€"it really seems presumptuous to go on Mr. Feversham bowed low to his bride who looked up in his face for one in- atant. The hustle and hum subsided the clergyman cleared his throat, and amid the stillness of an oppressively bot atmos- phere and scented garments the service began. The bridesmaids, three in number, how shalll describe them, as they came sweeping up the aisle in snowy raiment, not abreast. but in succession “ for all the world like three white geese,†said Jack Montgomery, in a conï¬dential whisper to his friend Gussy. A troop of ladies brought up the rear, Mrs. Montgomery in a crimson gown, with a face to match and a heart too full of anger and disappointment to have any room left for sympathy and good feeling; and behind came Mrs. Jackson in dove-colored silk,though her eyes were more like those of a hawk than a dove. Mrs. Browne in bright blue, Mrs. Drayton in green, and Mrs. Danton in purple, might be compared to three handsome macaws. and little Miss Browne in a long silken train of changeable hue, looked like a stately bird of the peacock species. The gentlemen,with red faces and flowers in their button-holes, also made an imposing appear- ance. Mr. Thompson, though invited, had declined to comeâ€"“ It is an act of folly and Iwill not countenance it by my presence," but his brother Tom was there marshalling the little Thompsons in white frocks with gay sashes. and leading Dickey in his blue velvet suit. The children were not to be present at the breakfast but merely to see the ceremony. point ;†a hater of temperance societies, Mt thodists. and all dissenting bodies gener- ally, “ for what the Dickens have they to dissent from when the church is all right and sound, sir '2†A hater of clear Gritsâ€"“ I’d grit them.†he would exclaim with great asperity ; a lover of good wine. when he could get it, and of good beer and cider when he could not, but in moderation, for he was no drunkard; a lover of good dinners and music, good or bad, he never knew the dif- ference ; a great admirer of the lady he was about to give away, whose beautiful face was familiar to him from the time she was born, but with whose character he was no more acquainted, than he was with the character ( of the man in the moon. As he walked for- ward slowly and with dignity all eyes were turned upon the bride. Her face was very pale with sup- pressed agitation and her heart throbbed I almost audibly beneath her dress of shining shimmering white satin, which fell in rich folds about her graceful, stately ï¬gure. and shaded to a delicate pink as she moved. The long, fair hair was turned back from her fore- head and worn a-la-neglige, at the especial request of the bridegroom (whose blush rose- bud she wore in her bosom) and the bridal veil, light as a cobweb. reached to her very feet. [conmnwn ox roan!!! ham]