Richmond Hill Public Library News Index

York Herald, 17 Apr 1884, p. 4

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Should folk come to see you their secrets to tell, And add, “ Dinua say that I tell't you mysel’, For ickmaunna gang fnr‘er than you, you maun en. 01' there’s nae anyin’ how the bit matter may on’ ; As {or me I may say it would injure me sair To be mixegi up in‘ (my sic wretched affair “â€" , Mun”. :n uh. unn ova fnnfl. To be mlxeg uy “J Uuy my “few” , ..... 110‘ pence, Joy and pleasure In life you are fond, Just send them at once to " the back 0’ beyond." Chorus. It‘s a. wonderfu' place " the back 0' beyond," There are unco queer folk at " the back 0' be~ yond ;" When cleaners come near me, I cunna count "$701112, And I feel unco glad there’s "a. back 0' be- yond.” When iolkwi’lang tongues come to your fire en’, And geive you wi' oluvers ’bout folk that they an. An’ what they eat, drmk and how they are clress‘d, While they in their hardships are sailâ€"1y op- pross'd, How meg saw Mistress So-and-so gay late at nic t And how 559 gaed on, and. was sic & like sicht, And {en‘you they‘re sure that 0' drink sheis mm fond: 7 Just can them to gang to " the back 0" It's a. wonderfu' place, etc. Gin (teens, as they're (culledâ€"bonnie freens‘ oft. thinkâ€"- Come in just to see you an‘ rest for a. blink, Begin to advise you about your nflairs, it's nae bul a 3' <0 -< {I a: o m in ‘5‘ E U 0 a on If 0 _.. >0 c x: ‘0 y y “WEâ€"aha theirs} But the think this or that 'bout you or your W1 9 Au’ in rou’n'mbout ways try to kindle up strife-â€" If yo%we(1ilt to hue pence, freeue, I give you my on You must ‘seud them. quick march, to “ the back 0' beyond." It's a wonderiu‘ place, otc. Should tipplers come in wi‘ a drum to your house, An' ask you to join in a. jolly carouse. An’, lest yogi be frightened that some day they’ll aqua , They promise that of it they never will speak ; Don tlisten, I pray you. to ocht 0‘ their crack, ‘or nae guid can come, freene, free any sic pack; Juet tell them at once 1he blue ribbon you've donned, And so they may gang to “ the back 0' beyond.” We a. wonderfu' place, etct Aye keep the atracht road on your journey through life. For dangers are near and temptations axe rife; Deal justly au' kindly W" women an’ man, ,. AL- d :3 Amp unn nan - Ham “on, .... .. , An' try aye to do a) the guid that you can; Let truth be your watchwurd. an' Scom aye to lee, , Wi’ freeu an' Wiggeighhor aye strive to agree, howfgendtle an simple that 0' peace you are on . An’ send anarlers &' to " the back 0' beyond." Na 9. wonderfu' place, etc. “Well, what is he like 7” he asks in a. stage whisper, straightening himself as he sees me. and pointing in the direction of the closet. r - A quarter of an hour later I rush back to Billy. and discover him standing, with bent head and shoulders, in a tiny closet that opens off the hall, and is only divided from the drawing-room by the very frailest of partitions. His attitude is crumpled, but his face betrays the liveliest interest as he listens assiduously to all that is going on inside. “ Very nice,” I answer with decision, “ and not dark at allâ€"quite fair. I asked him about the wood when I got the chance, and he said we might go there whenever we chose, and that it would give him great pleasure if we would consider ih as our own. There X And it was not he turned out old Nancy Haggard ; It was the wretch Sim- Author of "Molly Buwn,” “ The Baby," “ Airy Fairy Lilian,” etc, etc. “ 0h, didn’t he ‘2” says Billy, with withering contempt. “He didn‘t send his orders, I suppose? Oh, no I” Once fairly started in his Billingegate strain, it is impossible to say where my brother will choose to draw a line, but fortunately for Mr. Carrington’s character, Martha, our parlor servant, makes her appearance at this moment and comes up to us with an all-important expression upon her jovial face. " Billy, Billy l" I call eagerly, and at the top of my healthy lungs ; but there is no rgply. :ange gun that boy b_e ‘I” “ Billy, Billy l” I about again. more lustin this time, and with my neck owned half-way down the kitchen staircase, but with a. like result. There is a. sudden movement on the upper landing, and Dom, appearing above, waves her hand frantically cowards me to insure attention, while she murmurs, “Hunhl Hush I" with hurried emphasis. I look up, and see she is robed in her best French muslin, the faint blue and whan of which contrasts so favorably with her delicntle skin. “ Miss Phyllis. your ma wants you in the drawing-room at oncat,"she says. “The strange gentleman is there. andâ€"~â€"â€"â€"” “Wants me .1” I ask, in astonishment, not being usually regarded as a drawing. room ornament. “Martha, is my hair tidy 21’ “’Tis lovely!” returns Martha. And, thus encouraged, I give my dress one or two hasty pulls and follow in Dora‘s took- steps. “ Hush ! The-{evié some one in the draw- ing-room,” says my lovely sister, with the elighjgst qusible spew of irritation. “Yes,” returns Dora, under her breath; “ and, really, Phyllis, I wish you would not give yourself the habit ofâ€"" " What? Already l” I interrupt. with a gasp of surpnse. " Well, certainly, be has lost no time. Now, Dora, mind you make a. conquest of 1111):, Whatever you do, as. being our landlord, he may prove formid- able." 53:11:15, in my loudest whisper, feeling somewhat interested. “Notâ€"not mr._(_3 awn gton -â€" 331'er ?" Dora blushesâ€"it is a. common trick of hers, and she does it very successfullyâ€" nods, smiles and goes on to victory. The drawing-room door opens and shuts; I can hear a subdued murmur of voices; some one laughs. It is a. man’s laugh, and I feel the growth of curiosity strong within my breast. Oh. for some congenial soul to share my thoughts! Where on earth is Biin 7" ‘ A“ But he was in Italy then: perhaps he didn’t: know anything about) it,” I put in, agents giyipg {he Pgnefih of [bare douptj. I am about to prosecute my search for him in person, when he suddenly appears, coming toward me from a totally unex- pected direction. ‘ V‘i‘v‘thirt’é up ?” he asks, in his usual neat shyly " He’d be sure to refuse it they did," says Billy, gloomily. “ From all I hear, he must be a. regular Tartar. Brewster says he is the hardest landlord in the county, turns all the tenants out of doors at a. moment’s notice, and counts every rabbit in the place. I‘m certain he is a. mean beast, and I hope Dora. won’t ask any favor of him.” I shift the conversation. “Did you see him come? Where have you heen 9.11 this time ‘2” “I didn’t see him, but: I’m sure he's dark and squat. and probably be squiuts," says Billy. vxoiously. “ Any one that could turn poor old Mother Huggard out of her house in the frost and snow must have a. squigh.”_ “ Oh, Billy, he is hereâ€"â€"Mr. Carrington I mean.” I exclaim, eagerly. “ Dora and mummy. are with him. I wonder will they ask him about: the wood?" " Oucaide. There‘s a grand trap at the door, and two horses. Brewster says he is awfully rich. and of course he’s a screw. If there's one thing I have it’s a miner.” “ 011. he is too young to be a. miner,” say I, in the innocence of my heart. “ Papa, says he cannot be more than eight-and- twenty. Is he dark or fair, Billy ‘2" The Back 0 Beyond. PHYLLIS. BY THE DUCHESS CHAPTER I. REV. R. S. Bowm. .’ beyond.” mee busi- mous, the steward, thhoub any orders; and Mr. Uarrington has dismissed him, andâ€"” Here Billy slips off a jam-pot, on which i he has been standing, with a View to rais- ing himself. stumbles heavily, and creates an appalling row; after which, mindful of consequences, he picks himself up silently, and together we turn and flee. CHAPTER II. I am 17â€"not sweet 17 ; there is nothing sweet about me. I am neither fair nor dark, nor tall nor short, nor indeed any- thing in particular that might distinguish me from the common herd. This is rather hard upon me. as all the rest of us can lay claim to beauty in one form or another. Thus, Roland, my eldest brother, is tall, very aristocratic in appearance, and extremely good to look at; Dora, who ‘ comes next,is small and exquisitely pretty, ‘ in afresh fairy-like style; while Billy, the youngest born, has one of the handsomest faces imaginable, with liquid brown eyes of a gentle, pleading expression, that smile continually, and utterly belie the character of their owner. ! Dora. blushes, utters a. faint disclaimer, uni than laughsâ€"herown low oooing laugh, .bhat. a such a. wonderful piece of per- ! formanoe. I have spent hours in my bed- Why I was born at all, or why, my crea- tion being a. settled matter, I was DOD given to the World as a. boy,hee puzzled and vexed me for many years. I am entirely with- out any of the little graceful kittenish blendiehmcnts of manner then go far to make Dora. the charming creeture she 18 ; I have too much of Billy’s recklessness, mixed up with natural carelessness of my own, to make me a. success in the family circle. To quote pupa. in his mildeet term. I am a ” sad mistake," and not one easy to be rectified, while mother, who is the gentlest soul alive, reproves and comforts me from morning until night, without any result to speak of. I am something over five feet two, with brown hair and a brown skin, and eyes that might be blue or grey, according to fancy. My feet are small and well shaped. and so are my hands : but as for seventeen years I have borne on undying hatred towards gloves, these latter cannot be re- garded w1tb edmlretion. My mouth is of goodly size, and rather determined in expression ; while as to my figure, if Roland s to be believed, it resembles nothing so much as a fishingrod. But my noseâ€"that at least is presentable and worthy of a bet- ter resting-place ; it is indeed a. most desire- eble nose in every way, and, being my only redeeming pomt, ie one of which I am justly proud. 8’ Nevertheless, as one swallow makes no summer, so one feature will not beau- tify a plain face; and in spite of my Grecian treasure I still remain obscure. If not ornamental, however,I manage to be useful ; I am an excellent foil to my sister Dora. She is beyond dispute our bright particular star, and revels in that know- ledge. To be admired is sun and air and life to Dora, who resembles nothing in the world so much as an exquisite little Dres- den figure, so delicate, so pink and white so yellow-haired, and always so bewitoh- ineg attired. She never gets into a passion, is never unduly excited. She is too pretty and too fragile for the idea, else I might be tempted to say that on rare occasions she snlks. Still, she is notably good-tempered, and has a positive talent for evading all un- pleasant topics that may affect her own peace of mind. I , Lnun: , “an.-- It is then with mingled feelings of fear and delight that we hear of Strengemore being put in readiness to receive its master. Mr. Currington, our new landlordâ€"our old one died about five years egoâ€"hes at length wearied of s foreign sojourn, and is hastening to the land of his fathers. So rsn report three weeks before my story opens, and for once truly. He came, he saw, he â€". No, we have all arranged ages ago â€"it is Dora. who is to conquer. “He is exceedingly to be liked,” says mamma that night at dinner, addresemg papa, and alluding to our landlord, “and so very distinguished-looking. I ratherthiLk be admired Dora ; he never removed his eyes from her face the entire time he stayed.” And mother node and smiles approvingly at my sister “That must have been rather ember- raeeing,’ says papa in hie even way; but I know by his tone he too is secretly pleased at MLCarrington‘a rudeness: We see very few neighbors, for the simple reason that there are very few to see. This limits dinner parties, and saves expense in many ways, but rather throw: us younger fry upon our own resources. No outsiders come to disturb our uninteresting oulm ; we have no companions, no friends beyond our hearthstone. No alarming incidents occur to season our desdened existence; no one ever elopes with the wife of his bosom friend. All is flat, stale and unprofit- able. r ___________ Papa is a person to be feared ; mother is not; consequently, we all love mother best. In appearance the head or our family is tall, lean and unspeakably severe With him a spsde is always a spade, and his nay is indeed nay. According to a tra- dition among us, that has grown with our growth. in his noseâ€"which is singularly large and obtrusiveâ€"lies all the harshness that characterizes his every action. Indeed, many a time and oft have Billy and 1 speculated as to whether. were he suddenly shorn of his proboscis, he would also find himself deprived of his strength of mind. He is calm, and decid- edly well-bredI both 1n manner and expres- sionâ€"two charms we do not appreciate, as, on such frequent occasions as when dis- grace falls upon one or all of the household, the calmness and breeding become so ter- rible that, without so much as a frown, he can wither us beyond recognition. Of course pupa has his two hunters. We have been taught that no gentleman could possibly get on without them in a stupid country place, and that it is more from a. noble desire to sustain the reepectabihty of the family than from any pleasure that may be derived from them, that they are kept. We try to believe_thisâ€"â€"but we don‘t. I am his particular bete noire; my boyâ€" deniah ways jar every hour of the day upon his sensitive nerves. He never tires of con- trasting me unfavorably with his gentle elegant: Dom. He deteams gushing people, and I, unhappin for myself, am naturally very affectionate. I feel not only a. desire to love, but 8. times an unoonquerable long- ing to openly declare my love ; and as Roland is generally with his regiment, and Dora. is a. sort; of person who would die if violently embraced, I am perforce obliged to expend all my superfluous affection upon our darling mother and Billy. young man staying with them, who might reasonably be expected to put in an ap- pearance durlng the service, and who would be sure to linger and witness our disgrace- ful retreat afterward. Strict economy prevails among us; more through necessity, indeed, than from any unholy desire to save. Our annual income of eight hundred pounds goes but a short way under any circum- stances, and the hundred pounds a year out of this we allow Roland (who is always in a state of insolvency) leaves us “ poor indeed." A new dress is, therefore, a rarityâ€"not perhaps so strange a thing to Dora as it is to naeâ€"and any amusement that costs money would be an unheard of luxury. Out-door conveyances we have none, unless one is compelled to mention a startling vehicle that lies in the coach. house, and was bought no one remembers when and where. It is probably an heir- loom, and is popularly supposed to have cost a fabulous sum in the days of its youth and beauty, but it is now ancient and sadly disreputable, and not one of us but feels low and dejected when, tucked into it on Sunday mornings, we are driven by papa to attend the parish church. I even re- member Dora shedding tears now and then as this ordeal drew nigh; but that was when the Desmonds orthe Cuppaidges had room endeavoring pahiently to copy that laugh of Dora’s, with failure as the only result. “ And he is so good-natured! ” I break in, eagerly. “The very moment I men- tioned the subject, he gave us permission to go to Brinsley Wood as often as ever we choose, and seemed quite pleased at my asking him if we might; didn‘t he, mother? ” “ Yes, dear.” ” Could you find no more interesting topic to discuss with him than that ?”e.sked papa with contemptuous displeasure. “ Wan his first visit a. fitting opportunity to demand a. favor of him 7 It is a pity, Phyllis, you cannot put yourself and your own amusements out of sight. even on an occasion. There is no vice so detestable as selfishness.” I think of the two hunters, and of how long mother‘s last black silk has been her best gown, and feel rebellious; bub, long and early training having taught me to subdue my emotions. I accept the snub dutifully and relapse into bacltutniby. ‘1 “It was not he turned out poor old Mother Haggard after all, papa,” puts in Billy ; “ It was Simmons ; and lie is to be dismissed immediately.” " I am glad of thin," sayspapa, viciously. “ A more thorough going rascal never dw- gruced a. neighborhood. He will be doing a really sensible thing it he sends than fellow adrift. I am gratified to find Oatrington capable of acting with such sound common sense. None of the absurd Worn-out prejudices in favor of old servants about him. I have no doubt; he will prove an acquisition to the county." mfihogether, it is plainly to be seen, we every one of us intend approving of our new neigl_1_bor. . . -n A. .. 1n :_ _-_°-v,i. " Yes, indeed,” says mother, “ It is quite delightful to think of ayoung men being anywhere near. We are sadly in want of cheerful society. What a. pity he did not come home directly his uncle died and left him the property. instead of wasting these last five years abroad! ” “ I thmk he was right,"returns papa, gracefully; “there is nothmg like seeing life. When hampered with a. wife and children he will regret. he did not enjoy more of it before tying himself down irre- trievably." . ... .. In u: mei'mHe says all this in a. slow, rather effective tone. looking pensiver at Dora the while. “Did you really bestow a. thought upon me when I was out of sight ‘1’” he said with mild surprise. “ Are you 111 earnest ? Do you know, Miss Vernon, I begin to believe it is a. foolish thing to stay too long away from one’s native landâ€"away from the society of one'a own countrymen; a. men feels so dangerously pleased with any little stray kind word that may be said to him on his return. I have been living a rather up-snd-down sort of life, not quite so civilized as might have been, I fear, and it now seems absolutely strange that any one should take the trouble to think about An uncomfortable silence follows this speech. We all feel guiltin conscious that we are hampering our fatherâ€"that but for our unwelcome existence he might at the present hour be enjoying all the goods and geyeties of life : all. that: is. except Billy. who is insensible to inuendoes, and never sees or feels anything that is not put before him in the plaiuesh terms. Be cheerfully puts an and now to the awkward silence. m:_ n.._ “I can tell you, if you marry Mr. Cer- ringcon, you will be on the pig’s back,” he says, knowingly addressing Dora. Billy is not choice in his expressions. “ He has no end of tin, and the gsmest lot of horses in his sbsbles to be seen anywhere. Brew- ster was telling me about it." Nobody says anything. “ You will be on the pig’s back. I can tell you,” repeats Billy, with emphasis. Now, this is more than rashness, is is mad- ness, on Billy’s part ;he is ignorantly offer- ing himself to the knife. The fact that his vulgarity has been passed by unnoticed once is no reason why leniency should be shown towards him a. second time. Peps. looks_up blaudly. “Yea, I knew that,” said Dora. softly, with a. liquid glance. “ And all yesterday, after you had left, I kept wondering Whether you felt it very strange and and, seeing, new tunes 1] your old home.’: “ Do you know,” he is saying to sympa- thetic Dom, while 1 take the above inven- tory of his charms, “ I have quite an affec- tion for this house? I was born here, and lived in it until my father died; “'7‘7 iitr means being in luck, I suppose,‘ returnsrBilly, only s]ig_hh}y tggen uptick.“ His eyes are very handsome, large and very dark, and wonderfully kind, eyes that let one see into the true heart beyond, indeed his whole face is full of beauty. He makes no unwise attempt to hide it, beyond the cultivation of a fair brown moustache that does not altogether conceal the delicately-formed mouth beneath, the lips of which are fine and almoet sensitive enough to be womanish, but for a certain touch of quiet determination about them and the lower jaw. He is tall and rather slightly molded, and has a very clean- ehaped head. His hands are white and thin. but large; his feet very passable. IMEJy I ask €vhat you mean by being ‘ on the pig's back ?‘ he asks, with a. suspicious thirst for information. “ I do not think I should consider it a. lucky thing it I found myself on a. pig’s back," says papa, still apparently abroad, still desirous of having his ignorance en- lightened. ‘ .... 1, “ I don’t suppose you would,” responds Billy, grufliy; and. being an English boy, abhorrent of irony, he makes a. most unnecessary clatter with his fork and spoon: n , nnd “ I know what papa. means,” eeye Dora, sweetly, coming prettin to the rescue. One of Dora’s favorite roles is to act as peace- maker on such public occasions as the pres- eut, when the innate goodness of her dispo- sition eon be successfully paraded. “ It is that he wishes you to see how unmeaning are your words, and how vulgar are all back- neyed expressions. Besides”â€"runniog back to Billy’s former epeeehâ€"” you should not believe all Brewster tells you ; he is only a. groom, and probably says a. good deal more thanâ€"than he ought-L” Dora. is tattmg. Dora. is always tsttiug ; she never does anything else; and surely there is no work so pretty, so becoming to white fingers, as that in which the swift libnle shuttle is brought to bear. Never- theless, though he is beside my sister, I never raise my head without encountering his blue eyes fixed upo_n me. “There!” cries Billy, with wrathful triumph, “ you were jusb going to say ‘ more than his prayers.’ and if that isn’t a. ‘haokneyed expression,’ I don’t: know what’s what, You ought to correct yourself, Miaa Dora, before you begin correcting omer people." n ...-u v Before leaving, Mr. Carrington finds his way to the drawing-room, where Dora. and I are seated alone, be. having greeted us, drags a. chair lazily after him, until he gets within a. few {eat of Dora. Here he seats himself. r'~:"' “I was mt going to say that," declares Dom, in a. rather shgrparfiong. “ I was not,” reiterates Dora, her pretty oval cheeks growing pink as the heart of a rose, while her liquid blue eyes changed to steel gray. “ That’s a â€"-â€"â€"” “ William, be silent.” interrupts pups. with authority, and. so for s. time puts a stop to the family feud. Ah 1 Love was never without The pang, the agony, the doubtâ€"BYRON. CHAPTER III. The next day Mr. ,Csrringtou culls again â€"this time ostensibly on business matters â€"a.nd pspa. and he discuss turnips and other farm produce in the study. until the interview becomes so extended that it occurs to the rest of us they must ieiut. ‘IYleé; you were. théugh, It was on the verxnip of yqpr gongue." said Dora. softly, And all yesterday, kept wond_etin_g Here is an opportunity not to be wasted, and Dam instantly blushes her very best blush ; then becoming charmingly con- fueed. lets her glance once more full on her httiyg. “That is awfully pretty work you are doing," says Mr. Carringtou, taking up the extreme edge of it and examining it with grave interest. “ I like to see women work- ing. when their hands are 8011i and white. But this looks a difficult task: it must have taken you 8. long time to master the intricacies.” “3015, no. It is quite simplevâ€"juat in and out, you see, like this. Any one can learn it, if_they jusfipgb their mi_n_d_to iy." “ Do you think you could teach me, if I put my mind to it ‘2" asks Mr. Carrington. And then their: eyes meet ; their heads are close together over the work; they smile and continue the gaze u‘ntil Dora’s lids drgop baghfully._ I am disgusted. Evidently they regard me in the light of a. babe 01' a. puppy, so little do they allow my presence to inter- fere with the ripple of the“ inane convex-ea- tion. I am more nettled by their indifler enee than I care to confess even to myself, and come to the unoharibuble conclusion that Mr. Gerring’oon is an odious flirt, and my sister Dora. a fool. 1“ When you left this house where did you go then ?” asks Dora. presemly, return- ing t9 tile charge. “ To Shrungemoreâ€"to my uncle. Then Adaâ€"411M i8 my sister, Lady Hancockâ€"- married, and I Went into the Guards. You see I am determined to make friends with you,” he Bays pleasantly, “ so I begin by telling you all I know aooub myself.” “I am glad you wish us to be your friends," murmured Dorainnocently. “ But I am afraid you will find us very stupid. You, who have seen so much of the world, will hardly content yourself in country quarters, with only country neighbors." Another glance from the large Ohlldibh eyes; -‘ Judging by what. I have already seen,” says Mr. Currington, returning the glance wich interest, ” I believe I shall feel not only content, but thoroughly happy 11: my new home.” ” At this,” I say, at length, pointing to one, richly clothed that stands before us. '” Not at all,” returns Billy, contemptu- ously: “ It isn’t halt as good as this one,” naming the companion tree to mine; and, his being the master-mind, he carries the day; .. . . ‘7 Very good: don’t miss your footing.” Iaay anxiously, as he begins to climb, There are no lower branches, no projec- “ Why did you leave your regiment ‘2" I break in urelevaubly, tired of bemg left out in the cold, and anxxoua to hear my own voice again, after the longest silence I had ever kept. » Dora: sighs gently and goes back to the taming. Mr. Carrington turns quickly to All the trees are laden ; they more than answer our expectations. Each one ap- pears so much better than the other it is dxfficulh to choose between them. “ Because I am tired of the life; the ceaseless monotony was more than I could endure. So when my uncle died and I came in for the property, five years ago, I out it, and took to {oreigu travelling instead." ” I think if I were a man I would rather bee. soldier than anything," I say, with efiuaion. “ I cannot. imagine any one dia- liking the life; it seems to me such a gay one. so good in every respect. And surely agilything would be preferable to being an 1 er.” Ata‘inst the wood we want was reached; the nuts are in full View; our;object is attained. “ “ Now," asks Billy with a sigh of delight, “ at which tree shall we begin ?” I am unraveling a. quantity of scarlet wool that has been cleverly tangled by Cheekie, my fox-terrier, and so between wearinesa and the fldgete â€"brought on by the execution of a. task that is unnetly for- eign to my tastesâ€"I feel snappiah, and have pointed my last remark. Dora looks up in mild horror, and casts a. deprecating glance at our visitor. Mr. Carring‘ton laughsâ€"4. short, thoroughly amused laugh. As with light, exultant footsteps we hurry onwards. 31131501198 01 song £8.11 from my Iips«a. low, soft oontralto vpioe being my one charm. Now and then Billy’s high, boyish notes join mine, making the woods ring, until the song comes to sudden grief through lack of memory when gay laughter changes the eoho‘s tone. “ But I am not an idler,” he says: “one may find something to do in life besides taking the Queen’s money. Pray, M135 Phyllis, do not add to my many vices one of which I am innocent. I cannot accuse myself of having wasted even five minutss since my return home. Do you believe me?” I hasten to apologize. “ Oh, I did not mean it, indeed,” I say earnestly; “ I do assure you I do not. Of course you have plenty to do. You must think me very gude," It is that sweetest month of the twelve, Septemberâ€"4. glorious ripe September, that has never yet appeared so sweet and golden-brown as on this afternoon, that brings us so near the close of it. High in the trees hang clusters of filberte,that have tempted our imagination for some time, and now, with a basket slung between us, that links us as we walk, we meditate a. mid» I am covered with confusion. Had he taken my words in an unfriendly spirit I might have rallied and rather enjoyed my triumph; but his laugh has upset me, I feel odiously, horribly young, both in man- ner and appearance. Unaccustomed to the smiety of men, I have not had Oppor- tunities of cuhivatiug the well-bred insouci- ance that distinguishes the woman of the world, and therefore betray hopelessly the shyness that is consuming me. He appears cruelly cognizant of the fact, and is evi- dently highly delighted with my ember- rassrne‘nt. To-day,however, brings us such a chance of freedom as we may not have again, business having called our father to an adjoining village, from which he cannot possibly return until the shades of evening have well fallen. Our evil genius, too, has for once been kind, having forgotten to suggest to him before starting the advisability of regulating our movements during the hours he will be absent. It is four o‘clock. There is a. delicioue hush all over the house and grounds, a bush that betrays the absence of the male bird from his nest, and bespeaka security. Billy and I, hut in bond, stand upon the door- step and look with caution round as, preps.- mtory to taking flight to Brinsley Wood Ever bince my unlucky confession of haylng asked Mr. Carrington‘s permission to wan- der through the grounds~thereby betray- ing the pleasure I feel in such wanderings â€"we Lave found it strangely difficult to get beyond the precincts of our home. “ Think you," he says; A“ I am glad you exonerate mg. I l‘elh su‘x‘e that you did not wish to crush me utterly. If” you enter tamed a. bad opinion of me, Miss Phyllis, i$ would hurt me more than I can say.” A faint pause. during which I know his eyes are still fixed with open amusement upon my crimson countenance. I begin to hate him. “ Have you seen the garden? ” asks Dora. musically. “ Perhaps to walk through them would give you pleasure, as they can- not fail to recall old days, and the remem- brance of a. peat that has been happy is so sweet.“ Dora sighs, as though she were 1:: the habit of remembering perpetual happy paste. “I shall be glad to visit them again," answers Mr. Carrington, rising, as my sis- ter lays down the ivory shuttle. He glances WiBMtu at me, but: I have not: yet recov- ered my equanimity, and rivet. my gaze upon my wool relentlessly as he passes through the open window. CHAPTER IV. tions of any kind to assist his ascent ; the task is far from easy._ “ Here, give me e. shove,” calls out Billy, impatiently, when he had slipped back to mother earth the fourth time, after severely barking his shins. I give him a. vigorous push that raises him successfully to an overhanging limb, after which, being merely handover-hand work. he rises rapidly and, soon the spoi!er reaphea his prey. Down come the little bumpmg showers ; if on my head or arms so much the greater fun. I dodge; Billy aims; the birds grow nervous at our unrestrained laughter. A1- ready our basket in more than half full, and Billy is almost out of sight among the thick foliage| so big}: has_ be mounted. S'lrgwer, mid wish more uncertain aim come the nuts. I begin to grow restless. It is not so amusing as it was ten minutes ago, and I [cook vaguely around me in search of newer joys. At no great distance from me I spy an- other nut-tree, equally laden with treasure and tar easier of access. Low, almost to the ground. some of the branches grow. My eyes fasten upon it; a keen desire to climb and be myself a. spoiler seizes upon me. I lay my basket on the ground, and, thought and action being one with me. I steal off without a word to Billy and gain the wished-for epot. Being very little inferior to Billy in the art of climbingâ€"long and dearly-bought experience having made me nimble, in is at» very little risk and with amnll difficulty I soon find myself at the top of the tree, comfortably seated on a. thick arm of wood, plucking my mum in safety. I feel im- mensely eluted, both at the eminence of my situation and the succesarul secrecy with which I have carried out my plan. What: fun it Will be presenfily to see Billy looking for me nverywherel Ifaitly laugh to myself as these ideas flit through my idle brain â€"â€" more, perhaps, through real gayety of heart; than from any excellence the joke containsâ€" when, auddenly raising my head, I see what makes my mischievous smile freeze upon my lip. Overheard in a barber’s shop. Modern Elij&b(whois inclined to be iacehious)â€"â€"- “I’m getting to be pretty bald, ain’t I? Guess you’ll have to out my hair for about half price hereafter, eh? ’ Tonsorial arb- ist (who is equal to the emergency)â€"“Oh, no,‘sir ; we always oharge'double When we have to hunt for the hair ‘ A Handsome Variety of Dress Novelties â€"Veuclublen and Frufln on nuts. ’ Dressmakers and millinere are " busy as bees ” with silks, setins, velvete and loose, getting ready for Easter Sunday. There are anumber of changes in dress goods, as well as innovations in models and the off tints. Skirts are worn considers.ny fuller. Polonsiees are still favored. This graceful style of dress is generally considered equally becoming to tell and short figures. This garment is draped considerably high on the hips. There are two separate outs, celled Marie Antoinette and the Pompa- dour. The sleeves are full and high at the shoulder, a. style that is greatly favored in Paris. A stout figure looks best in a. long polonaise with very little looping. At the back the draping is disposed in loops grodustingin depth. The burnousdrsperies are very effective. The Sting Within. It is said there is & rankling them in every heart, and yet that none would ex- change their own for that of another. Be that as it may, the sting arising from the heart of a. corn is real enough, and in this land of tight boots 3. very common com- plaint also. PUTNAM's PAINLESS CORN Ex- TRACTOR is a never-failing remedy for this kind of heartache, as you can easily prove if afflicted. Cheap, sure, painless. Try the genuine and use no other. All wool pleided fabrics are once more fashionable and are combined with plain goods of the same hues, and those that are , favored ere marine blue and dahlia-red, ‘ garnet and olive, with white neatly mixed in. Among the latest changes in colors there is one new tint that is called Nana Sahib ; it is very like a dark ten, seen in a strong light, and at other times it is very nearly a. blue grey with a. tanlike shimmer. The Nana. Sahib cloth has a fine cord. This goods is all. wool, and combines nicely with all the rich brocades and velveteens, psrtioulerly with the “ nonpariel ” velve~ teen. Fil mfil is a. new kind of dress goods that is sure to find favor. A dress made of this material was lately finished for Easter wear. The skirt is made of thei ivory-tinted fil-s. til; the pleats are laid lengthwise, with three double box pleatset the back; down the frontieerow of butto he covered with"the goods. The vest is cut of the some goods, but of on ecru tinge, very pole. The jacket is short on the hips and cut away to show the vest front. | There are rows of small buttons, covered with the some fabric, that run on both sides of the jacket and the vest is closed with these buttons. The straw hat that will be worn with this suit is of a dainty ecru ; the high crown is encircled with it told of velvet of the some shade as the skirt of the dress; two long ostrich plumes are skilfully ad- justed on one side, partially concealing a. portion of the crown, the ends are prettin curled over each other and rest on the brim at the back, looking very like a huge rosette. “Ta, ta; I’ll see you later,” said Amy, takingfleave of the hlgh school girl the other evening. “ You mean,” replied the latter. “ that you will ooulurly observe me at a subsequent period, do you not ‘2” Who have tried Pclscn’e NERVILINE, the great pain remedy, is that it is never-failing in pain of every description. Neuralgia, toothache, cramps, pain in the stomach, and kindred complaints are banished as if by magic. Rapid and certain in operation, pleasant to take, Nerviline stands at the very front rank of remedies of this class. A trial bottle may be purchased fir 10 cents, avery small amount in any case; but the best expenditure you can make. if a sufferer from any kind of pain. is a 10 or 25 cent bottle of Nerviline at druggiste. DR. S. B. BIlITTAN says: “As a rule, physiâ€" pians do not by their professional methods build up the female constitution, and they seldom cure the diseases to which it is always liable in our variable climate and under our imperfect civilization. Special remedies are often required to restore organic harmony and to strengthen the enfeebled powers of vaenhood. and (or most of those we are indeb'ed to persons outside of the medical profession. Among the very best of these remedies I assign a. prominent place to Mrs. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound." By-the-bye, it is rumored that hangs are surely going out of fashion this spring, and that the hair will be worn brushed plainly back from the forehead. While hangs are not necessary for women who possess low, pretty foreheads, they are an absolute necessity for women who possess high, ugly foreheads. There can be no denying the fact that when the hair is arranged prettin and becomingly over the forehead it greatly softens the outlines of the face, and lends an additional charm to it. It is all nonsense for people to say that the most sensible women wear their hair brushed smoothly back from their brows. The most sensible women are those who know what is becoming to them. If they look well with their hair banged or curled they wear it so ; it they do not they fail to fol- low the prevailing fashion, and dress their hair plainly. The Grecian knot has gone entirely out of fashion except for street wear. It is almost impossible to wear the hair on the top of one’s head with the fashionable hat of the period. Very few ornaments are worn in the hair. Those that are worn are mostly silver or amber hairpinsâ€"American Queen. Sensible 'l‘nlk‘Ahoul Bangs. EASTER TolLETS The Opinion of All (To be Continued.) AN ordinary Cabinet Minister Boon sinks into inaignifioance in England when he retires from ofiioe ; even Mr. Milnet Gibnon, to whom the penny papers me under enormous obligaiiona, seeing that no one did so much to repeal the paper dusy, was scarcely known by name to the present generation until his death occurred last month. DR. BJOBNBTROM, superintendent of a lunatic asylum at Stockholm, introduced sprinting prose and some type into the establishment for the benefit of an insane compositor. The other patients became interested in printing, and the doctor soon gave them a. more extensive apparatus. The result is the recent publication of the doctor’s book on “ Diseases of the Mind, which was set up, printed and bound by the patients, and is pronounced a very good piece of work in every respect. It contains 202 pages. THE Hygienic Institute of Munich is making elaborate experiments with what they call Dr. Jager‘e“normsl clothing.” It consists in having all the undergarments woven in one. and the two extremities are digimted. The Mini: is described as a. very nnlovely woollen skin. A sort of woollen bsgie worn over it, and the coat and waist- coat are buttoned up to the chin. No one knows why the costume is called normal, but every one laughs at it GXBEpt the wearer ; the letter is an employee of the institute, and insists that his health is constantly improving under the infliction. In consequence of the enforcement of the Scott Act in Halton the druggiste appear to be doing a. very thriving business in that county. According to the returns brought down in the Dominion Senate, there are five druggists in the county licensed to sell liquor under the Act, but only three of them have yet made proper returns. These three filled orders tor 5,270 bottles of liquor on doctor‘s certificates. Assuming BINNS, the new British Jack Ketch, who l hanged Michael McLean, a boy of 18, at‘ Liverpool March 12th, does not appear to give sotislaotionmot even to those whom he hangs. McLeen, to begin with, de- cidedly objected to be hanged at all, on the ground that he was innocent of the crime for which he was to suffer. Binns was very nervous, and when the execution was over the governor of the jail testified before the coroner that it was not done “ scientifiâ€" cally.” His view was that Binns “ puts a. rope round a. men’s neck, and it's accidental if he hangs him.” He gave his victims a. drop too muchâ€"in this case 11 feet 3% inches. Biuns in detain) declared that as his victim'wasa. light one he believed in “ giving him rope enough,”butthe coroner’s jury severely censured him in a. verdict which says: He appears to have LO scientific principle for going through his work, and we think this really requires a. scientific man.” Evidently Binns must give way to Prof. Tyndall or Prof. Huxley. At any rate Binns must go. BAKER Pssns is the son of a Gloucester- shire ’squire, and is 54 years of age. He entered the army as a comet in the Ceylon Rifles in 1848, was transferred to the Tenth Hussars in 1852, passed in the same year to the Twelfth Lancers, where he remained until 1856, when he‘ rejoined the Tenth Hussars as captain, and became lieutenant- eolonel of that regiment, in which the Prince of Wales was placed under him for military education. He went thence to be assistant quartermaster-general at Alder- shot, a position he held until, in 1875, the painful circumstance occurred which com- pelled his retirement. He is of unques- tioned gallantry, served in the Kafl‘ir war of 1852 53, and in the Crimean war, at the siege of fishestopol. He was present at the desperate battle of the Tghernayai and led One of the storming parties in the final assau’rt on the fortress. He wears a medal for the Kaffir war, and the Crimean clasp, and the Turkish wsr medal for his more recent services. He is very popular in the army. BEFORE publishing his book, “ Study and Stimulants,’ Mr. A. Arthur Reade sent circulars to a large number of literary men, asking about their habits with respcct to the use of alcohol, tobacco, etc., while engaged in literary work. The writer received 132 replies. Mr. Gladstone found that his “ glass or two of claret atluncheon, the same at dinner, with the addition of a glass of light port, especially necessary to him at the time of greatest intellectual exertion.” Canon Farrar believed from experience that “ work may be done more vigorously, and with less fatigue, Without wine than with it.” The editor says that no one of those who replied to hisquestions resorts to alcohol for inspiration. Thirty- iour abstained wholly from alcohol, 27 used wine at dinner only, 26 used tobacco. Of the latter, only 13 smoked while at work, one chewed and one took snuff. Mark Twain “ required 300 cigars a month, which he found sufficient to keep his eon- stitution on a firm basis,” and Mr. Ruskin expressed his “entire abhorrenoe of the l practice of smoking." PROF. Mons of Christiana, Norway, havv ing been employed by the Government to investigate the efficiency of the protection afforded to buildings by lightning rods, seems to have substantially settled the much debated question, at least for that region of country. His report shows that lighthouses, telegraph stations and other exposed buildings, which were provided with conductors, did not by far suffer as much as churches, which in most cases were unprotected. It appears, in fact, that of about 100 churches reported to have been struck by lightning, only three were provided with conductors; that of these three the first had aconductor in good order, and the building was uninjured ; the second had a conductor of zinc wire, which melted, and, of course, left the structure without protection; the third had a wire which was rusty where it joined the earth, and the church was burned. More than one-half the number of churches struck were totally destroyed. Mr. Preece, the English Government electrician, states that no damage has occurred since telegraph poles were earth wired. Wrrn reference to the early lifelof Osman Digma, the Suakim correspondent of the London Times writes that he was orig‘n ally a broker and trader, and princh 3 y a slave trader, in Buakim and Jedduh, where he received a severe financial blow when, some six years ago, a British cruiser cap- tured two slave dhows full of victims, on the way to Jeddah. Osman Digma’s trade then fell from bad to worse, his house pro- perty in Suekim was all mortgaged, and he became hopelessly involved. Being of no great distinction by birth, his selection by the Mahdi to lead a religious rebellion is attributed to the accident that Osman Digma, in one of his incursions far south for slaves, met the Mahdi, who formed a high estimate of his ability and of his influence, acquired through successful trading. If this history he trustworthy, passions for other objects than holiness are the key note of Osman Digma’s character and motives, and it is against all proba~ bility that he will cast his goods and his position into the broken bel- euce of battle. He is no ignorant fanatic, and he cannot himself believe the myths which he multiplies in order to control his followers. CURRENT TOPICS. these to be the ordinary-sized whiskey bottle, that would show that it took six- teen and a halt barrels of whiskey during the last eight months of last year to cure the invalids of Acton. Georgetown and Oak- ville. C. W. Pearce & 00., of Acton, seem to have had the lion’s share of this trade, for 62 out of the 80 pages of the report are covered by the returns of liquors sold by this firm. A glance through these pages show that some of the Acton people seemed to have been sick pretty nearly all ‘ the time. and took their medicine with 1 great regularity. One John Shaughnessy ‘ in particular, must have been very ill, judging from the great quantity of medi- cine it took to cure him. The return shows that he used a bottle of whiskey daily from May 3rd to July 12th. He occasionally ski ped a day, but always made up for this y getting two bottles the next day. On July 12th he seems to have been temporarily cured, for his name does not turn up in the list again for about six weeks. On August 25th, however, he again bobs up serenely for another bottle of rye. The relapse. however, does not seem to have been 8 serious as the first attack, for from that date to the end of the year John managed to keep body and soul together at an aver' age of two bottles of whiskey a week. Mrs. Parmiugton says that there are few people now-a-days who suffcr from “ sugges- blon on the brain." ' '0 u N G M E learn steam engineering and earn $100 per month Send your name and 100. in stamps to F. KEPP! Engineer. Bridgeport, 00. r , I: 911276 All kinds of flog Products handled, also Butler, Chane. Eggs. Poultry, Tullo w; etc. Pat. Egg Uurriexe supplied.- (791;. u menls solicited. 83 Colborue street Tomnfio LYDlA E. PINKHAM’S * VEGETABLE COMPOUND j? * * * * * IS A POSITIVE CURE * MALE COMPLAINTS, ALI. OVARIAN TROUBLEE, IN- FLAMMA'I‘ION AND ULDERATION. FALLING AND Dian PLACEMENTS, AND TIIE CONSEQUEN’I‘ SPINAL WEAK-1 Russ, AND Is PARTICULARLY Ann-TED To TIIE CHANGE OF LIFE. * 4. * 4. * * *m g“ * IT WILL DISROLVD AND FXI’EL TUMORS FROM TIIE UTRRUS IN ANEARLY sTAnE 0R DEVELOPMENT. TIm TENDENCY ToCANoEROI's IHTMORS TIIERE Is CnEcKED‘ VERY SPEEDIIIY RY ITS USE. * * .x, * * A: * IT mmovns FAINTNESSI, FLATULEA’CY, DESTROYS ALL (‘RAVING For. STIMULANTS, AND RELIEVEB WEAK! IN *1 OF TIIE STIIIIACII. IT CURES BLOATING,II1~:AD-‘ AcIIL, NERVOUS PImSTRATmN, GENERAL DEBILITIL’,I DEPRESSION AND INDIGESTION. * * * #- 4t * ’I‘IIAT FEELING 0F BEARING DOWN, CAUSING PgIN, WEIGIIT AND BACKACIIE, IS ALWAYS PERMANENTLI' cum-1D 111' 1TH USE. * * -. * * * * I, * * IT wn L AT ALL TIMES AND UNDER ALI. CIRCUM- E’I‘AN( ACT IN HAI’MONY 'WITII THE LA‘VS THAT uovuRN THE FEMALE SYSTEM. * * * * fl * [firlTs I‘URI'OSI’: Is SOLELY FOR TIIE LEGITIMATE HEALING 0F DISEASE AND THE RELIEF DII‘ PAIN, AND THAT IT DOES ALI. IT CLAIMS To Do, THOUSANDS OF LADIES CAN GLADLY TESTIFY. u, * * * * * Fm: THE CURE or KIDNEY COMPLAINTS 1N EITHER max Tms REMEDY IS UNszrAssm). * 4“ * LYDIA E. PINKIIAM'S VEGETABLE COMPOUND is prepared at Lynn, Muss. Price 81. Six bottles for w. Sold byall druggista. Sent by mail, postage paid, in form of Pills or Lozenges (HI reccfipt of prion as above. Mm. Pinklmm's “Guide to Health” will be mnflod {rm to any Lady sending stamp, Letters confidentially answered. " “ N0 familv should be without LYDIA E. PIXKIIAM’B LIVER I‘II’ILSI They (rm-o Constipation, Biliousnosg and Torpmity of the Ivar. 2:) omts per box. 4' , N ,, IT WILL CURE ENTIRELY THE WORST FORM OF D.LCUDAR, Prica List and Testimonials of Brick Machines and Brick Presses. We also make the "Eureka Combined Brick and Tile Machine ” for horas or steam power. . I. CLOSE & SON, Woodstock, Out. GIBB & GALLOW U 8. El, Lecturer on the Eye, Eat and Throw Trinity Medical College, Toronto. Oculist and Aurist to the Toronto General Hospital, late Clinical Asuiatanc Royal London Ophthalmic Hospital, Moorefleld‘s and Central London Throat and Ear Hospital. 317 Church street Toronto. ave been cuxed. )ndand, so a ran a m {alts in Its a army. that I w)“ send TWO BO'I‘TL 3 FR EJ40- gather with uVALUABLE TREATISE on this dianua. to any BWerorfinGI'xe Fxpmaa mid P. o I Irons. “Ir/\(“vu m. m .v own I‘have‘x Eonâ€"111;; remd’i Effie chars image: bâ€" Tta‘ use thousanda‘or cases 91' ghq worst kind and of up: QEND FOR DESCRIPTIVE GIR- ENSEEPTEUN; BRICK MACHINES. Has stood the test for FIFTY-THREE YEARS, and has proved itself the best remedy known for the cure of Consumptlon, Coughs, Coldsfilfihoopj pg Cough young or old. SLED EVERYWHERE. Price 256. and $1. 00 per Bottle. and allrLupg'Djsveaseé'in EYE, EAR AND THROAT. ELIXIR Mich Circulars free . G. s. BUSESON, L. R. 0.1% a? ESTABLISHED 1889. N. H. DOWNS" 'bni‘mfl. bLOGUM, leii’bir‘isfixaw York VEGETABLE BALSAMIU a: Y, L. 16. 54‘ PLACE no secw‘e a Business Eduoamon 01' B anceriun Pen manship at: t a SPENCER IAN BUSINESS COLLEGE

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