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§all the nights in the year, the ‘cliurch- f fun,” 4 . OR, SYBIL CHAPTER XXVI.â€"(C0ntinucd). “I'll soon raise the fires sperrits," said the old lady, briskly rising and seizing the poker and giving the logs a geod hinge and lift, that sent up a shower of Sparks and a sheet of flame. lighting the whole room With the bright- ness of day. The effect was as transient as it was brilliant, however. The sparks expired in their upward flight. and'the flame died down again. leaving the logs simmering as before. “There. now! you see mother? The very fire feels the time,” Signed Miss 'I‘abby. ' . “l-‘iddle! it is only because the wood is green. I'll cure that, too. I‘ll make tame-legged Joe gather a heap of pine cones, that will burn the greenest wood as ever sulked on a hearth." shit'lled how it is, ~ the blithe old lady, as she set the poker in its place. And then she went to the back door of the back room, and, standing on the covered porch, called out: -.“.!oc! Joe! fetch in a basket. of pine cones to make the fire' burn !" A rumbling noise, a little resembling ill human voice. was heard in he dis- tance, and the old lady shut the door, returned to her seat, and resumed her reeling. “Iâ€"don‘t feel to think it is the fire- wood, mother; Iâ€"I think it is the souls,” slowly and solemnly announced Miss Libby, who had not spoken be- are. “The what? What in patience are you talking about, Libby ?" ed the old lady, off her yam. “The souls, mother; the soulsâ€"the souls that do wonder about without rest on this awful night." “Well, I do think," gravely began the aged woman, laying down the ball she was Winding. and taking off her spec- tacles that she might speak with the more impressiveness, “I do really think f all the foolish women in this foolish orld, my two daughters is the foolish- xtl Here’s Tabby. always whimpering ab\out the sorrowful things in this w Id, and Libby always whispering ab ut the supernatural things in the other! If you had both on you married twenty or thirty years ago, you wouldn’t. be so full of whimsies now! But, Lib- by, as the oldest of the two, and a wo- man nigh sixty years of age, you really] ought to set a better example to your sister." And, having delivered this little lec- ture, old Mrs. Winterose replaced her spectacles on her nose, and resumed her reeling. “It‘s all very well for you to talk that a way. mother, and it‘s all very right; but for all that, you know as how the old folks do say as on this awful night. severely demand- as she briskly. wound rds yawn and the graves give up their (1 ad’, and the unshcltcred souls do winder restlessly over the earth; and th. ugh we may not see them, they come in‘q‘it our doors and stain] beside us or; hover over us all the night. Ugh! It. do \make me feel as if ice-water was a-triokling down my backbone only to think, of it! For. what if as how her! soul "as a wandering about. here now!" contirued Miss Libby, solemnly clasping‘ her hands and rolling up her pale blue! eyes. { “Yes! what if as how her soul was a wandering about here nowâ€" here, where all unprepared to go, on just such a dismal Hallow live as this, it was \violently druv eut'n her L‘OdJ'il Ah! good land! who! was that?" sud-i deiily exclaimed Miss Libby. breaking! off with a half-suppress‘ed scream. “It was nothing but Gem's wheel stopw ping suddenly. as her thread snapped. you goose." said the old lady. “All! but it sounded just like an awful! groan. as it might be an echo of tier dy-I ing groan as her soul fled from thei body. and rewived by memory, if so be she should be walking now," shuddeer Miss Libby. v “And surely. if any soul ever did, wander over the earth anywhere. at any" time. lief-5 soul, of all souls, would wan- der in this place of all places. on this night of all nights. when she " “flush. for Heaven's dear sake, both1 of you !" exclaimed the old lady.‘ "l‘abby is so sentimental and Libby is so sll:"t‘!“ili501is. that what with the sniv--ltin;_r of one of you and the shud- dering of the other. and the talking of befits! should get the horrors myself if it wern't for firm. my bright item. there. humming.r f) a tune to her Inim- ming wheel I" said the old lady. with on affectionate glance toward the young; girl. "And I wonder." >ilf‘ added.‘ “what has become of Jo"? l slim duti wonder if the poor fellow had gone out, to the pine woods to roller! tic-i wanes. But now. Tabby and Libby. let he hem-l no more of your siiivrlliog and \ll.i'i'I'-l ing." . “But I can't help of it. Illuiiivt‘.‘ I] should die if I (‘idnt crv. liaihv; >l.vi-.. especially a dark. (il’ix‘lliy, “only: dreary tlollow live like this, (Nun‘s, lid" as back that awful night >0 unvidiyi again. i seem to see it all again. II . : . , seem to see my child. ruguig and burn-id“ “01 COllid “19 baht- ‘uu like the Spirit of Fire she called her- fll’ VINDICATION [pule ill BERNER’S WW+O+O+O+O+0040+O+O+ self. I seem to hear that piercing shriek that woke up all the house. I seem to meet that flying form in the, lowing white dress. and with the scared and pallid face. I seem to feel the hot blood flowing down upon my hands and face, as I caught her in my arms and tried to stop her, when she broke from me and fled screaming into the library, and threw herself upon Lyon Bernrrs' breast. dying. flow can I help it‘.’ How can I help it?" cried Miss Tabby with a burst of tears. ~“It is her spirit a-hoveriiig ovrr you. and impressing on you. Tabitha." sol- emnly whispered Miss Libby. “I shouldn‘t wonder! no. I shouldn't wonder the least in the world." assented Miss Tabby. with a serious nod of her head. “And remember, Tabby, that her mur- derer is still at large, and her spirit can- not rest until that murderer is brought to justice," whispered Miss Libby. “Ah, but who was her murderer? Surely, Elizabeth “interose. you do not dare to hint as it was my darling, that beautiful and noble lady who was so nearly executed for the crime she never could have committed demanded Miss Tabby, with awful gravity. “Tabitha \\'interose. you know I don't," answered Miss Libby, in solemn indignation. “I'm glad to hear you say so. for she never did it, nor yet could have done it, though she had cause enough, poor dear! cause enough to go raving mad with jealousy, and to hate her rival unto death, if ever a lady had. But she never was that poor woman's death. though well the woman might have deserved it at her hands. But she never did it! No, she never did it !" reiterated Miss Tab- by, with many vain repetitions, as she wiped her faded blue eyes. “And if Rosa Blondelle's spirit cannot rest in her grave, it ain’t so much be- cause lier real murderer is at large as it is because Sybil Berners, her bene- factrcss, as she wronged so ungrateful- ly. when she was alive, is now falsely accused of her death,” whispered Miss Libby. . “Yes, and would u been just as falsely executed for it, too, if she hadn‘t a been reskced on that dreadful night of the flood. And where is she now? Where is the last of the Berners now? An ex- ile and a wanderer 'over the face of the earth! A fugitive from justice. they call her! ‘A fugitive from justice!‘ when all she needs to make her happy in this world,if she still lives in it. is just simple justice. Oh, I shall never, never forget that awful‘night of the storm and flood, when with her infant of :i few hours old, which they had waitul for it to be born before they meant ti murder her, she was suddenly snatched out of the flooded prison and carried away from sight, as if the wafers had swallowed her! And that was the second horrible Hallow Eve of my life !” sobbed Miss Tabby. “flush! hush! why harp upon the her rors that happened so many years ago! ‘\\’hat’s done is done,’ and can't be un- done,” urged the old lady. “1 1“10W it. mother; but it is some sort 0‘ relief to talkâ€"it keeps me from think- ‘iug too deep aboutâ€"" “About fool I” “About this. then! as there never was no dreadful thing ever hapened to us as didn’t happen to happen on a dark, drizzty. dreary Hallow Eve l" whimpcred Miss Tabby. “It is a Libby. “It is a fiddfesfick I" snapped the old lady. “Oh, what, Tabby? Don‘t be a fatality !” whispered Miss mother, mother. you can't dis- \\'asn't it on ii Hallow Eve at night that Rosa Rloudelle. sleepiiirr calmly in l-er bed. was mysteriously murdered 2" found-ed Miss Tabby. “Yes. yes; impatiently admitted the old lady. "And wasn’t it that same night in the storm that Sybil Berncrs fled away from her homeâ€"some said, driven mad by horror, and some said by remorse ‘2" “Oh, yes!" sighed the old lady; “and that was the worst thing as ever she did in her life. for her flight was taken as a proof of conscious guilt. I was very sorry she fled." “Yes. but she was persuaded bv those as was wiser than we. And besides, what could she do but fly. when the evi- dence was so strong against her? so strong that everybody believed her guilty? so strong that even when she came forward and give herself up, if convicted her. and she was doomed to death! that beautiful. noble, lady! and only spared until she could bring her babe into the worldâ€"her babe born in the condemned cell." “1 know it. I know it; but for all that, it was ili'l' first flight that prejudiced peoples mini-ls against her.“ “And do you remember. mother. that uwfui night when the child was born in the prison? You and I and the prison doctor was wiili her in that stone cell! And, oh. how we prayed that she might die! Roth lived." “Yes. thank Heaven! despite our short- heard of her or her baby until that let- fodder, and preserved as Curiosities. But. she was strong. and could not sighted. sinful prayers. both lived." fervently exclaimed Mrs. “mini-me. “But that awful night of storm and flood, when the condriiincd mother gave birth to the child in the Condemned cell. that awful night. was also [follow live. and do you mind how. when all was over, and the baby was dressed and the mother was lying in stupor. how you had to leave us, and go away in the storm to tend m father‘s siekbrd 7" “All, child, don‘t I remember it all I" “And now I'm going to tell you what happened after you left!" “Why, Tabby, you never would tell us before." said Mrs. “luff-rose. taking off her spectacles and becoming very at- tent-ive. “No. mother. because I was bound by on oath. It is true, the man I made the oath to released me from keeping of it! llut still I never did feel free to tell all I knew until lo-niglit.” “And why to-night, Tabby?" “Because it is borne in upon my mind that something will happen on this very [fallow live to clear up the whole mys- tery, that I feel free to reveal my part of it t" “Rut what makes you feel as if some- thing was going to happen to reveal the secret. Tabby 1’" inquired her mother. “Recluse I had a dream last night as foretold it t I dreamed as l was walking in the haunde wing. in the very room where Rosa Blondcllc was murdered. and suddenly the. sun shone full info the room. lighting it. up like noonday." “And to dream of the sun shining into a room is a sure sign of the revelaâ€" tion of secrets and the discovery of hid- den things," said Miss Libby, myster- iously. “Stuff and nonsense about dreams and visions!" sharply exclaimed Mrs. \Nin- terose: “but whatever has caused you to change your mind about Mrs. Berners’ rescue. I shall be very glad to hear the particulars, Tabby; so go on." “Well. goodness knows, there. ain't much after all. as I have to tell, but you shall bear it. Well, soon after you left. mother, the prison doctor he got. up to go home: and he asked Mr. Berners, who had been waiting out in the lobby to hear from his wife, if he would go along with him to bring back some medicine; and Mr. Bcrners and him they both went out in the storm, and oh, how it was a storming to be sure.” "Yes. that it was!" assented Mrs. \\'interose. “I thought as I should never a got through it myself!" “Well, I sat there hour after hour. holding the new-born baby in my lap, watching the unconscious mother and waiting for Mr. Berncrs to come back with that medicine. Well, I might a waited i" “Yes. for there was no getting back that night!" put in the old lady. “No, for the storm got worse and worse! The rain poured, the wind howled, the waters rose! Oh. what a horrible night! It was as if the end of all things was come, and the world was about to be destroyed by water, instead of by fire." “I know what sort. of a night it was, Tabby. I can never forget; it! Tell me how Sybil Bcrners was rescued ‘1" said Mrs. Winterose. impatiently. “I am telling you as fast as ever I can; which she never would a been rescued neither. if it hadn‘t a been for that there blessed flood. which you don’t even want me to tell about.” coin- plained Miss Tabby. “Tell me about the rescue!" command- ed Mrs. \\“interose. peremptorily. “Well. then. just as I had discovered as the waters had riz' almost up to the level of the windows. and was even oozing through the walls like dew, and rising higher every minute, and I was in deadly fear of our lives, and screeching as loud as I could scrceeli, for some one to come and let us out, which nobody could hear us because of the hollering and bowling, and running and racing. and hanging and slamming of doors and windows. and all the route and rumpus made by the people as were try- ing to save their own lives, suddenly the window was hustbd in. And before I had time to say my prayers, in jumped at big man followed by a little man." “Lor‘!” exclaimed Mrs. Winterose and Miss Libby. in a breath. “And the big man, in all his haste and hurry. he took her up, Sybil, as tender- ly, and wrapped her up as carefully as if he had been her mother. He cussed some about the baby, which was a sort of surprise to him; but Raphaelâ€"â€"â€"” "Raphael!" exclaimed Mrs. Wiiiterose and Libby, in a breath. “Yes, Raphael! He was the little man I soon discovered. Raphael pleaded for the baby, and so the big man he let. him save her; but he said how he must leave the ‘ole ’oman.’ meaning me, to be drowned. though. goodness knows, for that matter, I wasn‘t so old as to be tired of life, being only just turned of tliii'ty-ttirecâ€"” “Oh, bother about your age, Tabby! tell us about the rescue!”, snapped her mother. “Ain't l a telling of you as fast as I can '1 But he did call me an ole 'oinan, and me not thirty-four then, which I would say it if I was to die for it, and he would a left me to be drowned, but Raphael he plead for me like he did for me baby, and the waters was rising higher and higher. and the uproar in the prison was getting louder and louder, and the big man. he swore at Raphael, and told him to fetch me on; but first he made me swear on the Bible never to tell how we was rescued. Then he took us off on the boat. which I tell vou, mother, it was just awful to be a riding on the high floods over the tops of the houses. It had done raining, which was a good thing for my pom. child. who was well wrapped up also. They rowed me up to the Quarries, and purine out high, and on a ledge of [he mountain. and rowed away with my child. and that's the last I ever saw 0,. fer Come to Mr. Bernrrs. a telling of him how {she was took off to foreign parts. and n releasing of me from my path of silence. “flu! you never told us, for all that." “lit-cause. us I said afore, I never felt free to do it until to-night. and to-iiight it is borne in upon my mind as someL thing will happen to clear up that flatâ€" low live inystii'y." “it is a pi'rsciitiment." Libby. solemnly. “it is a fiddle E" snapped the old lady. “You may call it a fiddle. mother. but I believe you know more about the fate of Mrs. Rerners and her baby. too. than you are willing to tell." said Miss Libby. “May be I do. and may be I don't," answered the old lady. Then, suddenly breaking out angrily, she exclaimed: “I told you both before as I didn't want to talk of these here horrid events! And I don't! And here you draw me on to talk of them. whether or no! And look at Gem there,” she added. lowering her voice, and directing her glance to- ward thc girl at the spinning wheel; “she knows nothing about these dread- ful doings. and ought to know nothing about them. Yet there she stands. with her wheel still. and she a drinking down every word." (To be continued). NEW AND STRANGE. said Miss Some Interesting Facts About the Latest Novelties. Glass tubes are now used as rulers. With these transparent rulers the draughtsman or schoolboy can see the lines on the paper under the instru- ment, which is often‘a great advantage. The following new recipe is given for making wood more durable than iron: Mix coal dust into bailing linseed oil until the liquid is of the consistency of paint. Coat the wood with this novel paint. and let it dry. A new form of telautograph has been invented by a Frenchman. It has one wire and two rods; one rod makes cir- cular strokes and the other is used in making straight lines. By this simple instrument one's handwriting is faith- fully reproduced a thousand miles away. A beekeeper has taken advantage of the temperature of the hive to utilize the upper portion as an incubator. Finding that the top of the hive was as warm as his incubator. be arranged a score of eggs in it, separating them from the bees by wool. Eighteen eggs were hatched. and he declares that the chickens were incubated by bees. A new reed instrumentnafter the style of the mouth-organ type. has been placed on the market. It is held to the month by a vertical handle; a perforated sheet is wound round rollers by means of a side handle, and the "player" furnishes the wind. just as with a mouth harmon- ica. It will be seen that no musical effort is needed in this new instrument. A door-knob which is also a warning bell must be classified among useful appliances. There is a gong inside the knob, or handle, and two hammers to sound it. On turning the“ knob the hammers are actuated. and a’ clear sound rings forth. There is. nothing in the appearance of the handle to suggest a trap, and the door is not rendered un- sightly on the outside by havmg an ordinary bell connected. who have been unfortunate enough to lose one has been patented by an inven- tor. This hand will grip an object very lightly. and it is possible to hold a chop- per with it and split wood. It is so ar- ranged in itself. and so connected With the forearm and upper arm. that by placing either of these in a certain p051- tion the. fingers are manipulated and a firm grip obtained. I Come! players will be interested in the new come! with two bells. In this iii- striinient, all open tones. and tones pro- duced by the depression of thei‘u‘st and third valves, either singly or jomtly. are emitted through the first hell; on the other hand. all fours produced when the second valve is depressed, whether alone or in conjunction with the first and third valves, are emitted through the second bell. This dispenses with all sharp 0r abrupt turns in the tubing. A box, or shaker. for both pepper and salt is a novelty in table articles. The two condiments can be used. or only one need be shaken at a time. Each portion of the box is fitted with a wash. er. which effectually closes. the holes in that side which is not required; you can therefore have salt from one end and pepper from the other. and you are not bound to shake out pepper when you onlv desire to have salt. Another device prevents the salt, from becoming moist. -+-â€"-â€"â€"â€" TEETH AS BIG AS FIS’I‘S‘. inside an ele- “Whoever has looked phant's mouth has seen I a strange sight." says an elephant trainer. ‘Ele- phants have no front teeth. and they never eat flesh or any food that requires tearing apart. Eight teeth are all they have. two above and below on each Side, huge yellow molars. as wide as a mans hand, and a couple of inches thick. Over these hay or fodder is shifted by the queerest. ugliest tongue in the whole animal kingdom. a tongue that is liter- ally hung at both ends. having no pow: er of movement except II! the middle. where it shifts back and forth from sale to side, arching up against the roof of the big mouth like an immense wrinkled pink serpent. There is nothing stranger than the working of his breathing ap- paratus when he sleeps. Elephants, like human beings. have two sets of teethâ€"the milk teeth. which are smaller than the permanent molars. fall out. when the animals are about. {gm-19m vears old. These baby teeth. which are hnvol‘illr’iPS< enormous. are acrimon- rillv picked up by circus men among the A new kind of artificial hand for those. W THE MURDEROUS APACHE FOL'R TllOl'S.\.\iD BANDED CRIMI NALJ IN PARIS. llesitatc to Kit! Their Victims. It is said that there are about 4.000 riiflians who have found that they can live without working in Paris. France. and they procaed to do so, killing men and women without hesitation in the pursuit of their ends. They commit. murder in the streets and in buildings indistiiininulrly. business places or domiciles, merely to get possession of money. They police know all about them mid let them alone till after the crime is committed. The name Apaches, which is univers- ally applied to them. may be an out- growth of the time when the violent deeds of the American Apaches were of frequent mention in the news of the. day. or it may have had some other origin. The French do not use the term as meaning merely Indians, but speci- fically to describe these assassins who do not Work. who prowl in small hands mainly at night. and who shoot or stab a person apparently as an agreeable pastime in the course of' a robbery, EVEN \VIIEN THEY DO NOT 1Robbt‘rs \\'ho lnfesl Streets and Do Not MURDER. On Saturday, September 8th, a feeble old woman, who had considerable means, was murdered in her home by a young fellow who called there, saying that he was sent by her married daughter to get the latter's parasol. The fellow was a brother of a little boy who, up to a couple of days before, had been employed by the woman's son-in- law, and, therefore. he was admitted. The woman was alone and he imme- diately murdered her and took her money, jewelry and faces away with him in a parcel wrapped in an illus- trated new5paper. 'l‘he parasol for which he had asked was found beside her body. ’ In a haunt of the Apaches, of whom he was one. the murderer was arrested on the following Sunday evening. He is sixteen years old. With him was his mistress, age 26. wearing some of the property of the murdered woman. The crime had been planned by the murderer's twelveyear-old brother. the little boy who had been employed by the old woman‘s son-in-law and whom she herself had many times befriended. The term employed is used advisedly. The boy would not do any real work, but he was tolerated and paid because he was amusing. witha sort of gaminimpu- dence, and his mother was a worthy serving woman KNOWN TO HIS EMPLOYER. Both brothers and the woman, who was the clder‘s companion. are in cus- ltody. Of such are the Apaches of Paris. This sixteen-year-old criminal at first told the commissary of police that. he was innocent and had spent Saturday afternoon in a concert. hall, which he named. with comrades whom he could designate. This form of alibi is usual with the Apaches. He was a young workman, he said. who after he should have done his military service for the country had only one wish. to be a policeman. as he detested criminals. When the evidence showed him that. he was found out he changed his atti- tude abruptly, but calmly, acknow- ledged the crime and said that. with 20,- 000 francsâ€"proceeds of the murder and robberyâ€"lie and two companions were to have sailed for America. One of his companions was an electrician and the other a mechanic. and they had plan- ned, he said, to open an automobile re pair shop in America. From time to time the new5papers of Paris take up the question of the Apaches. and sporadically they de- nounce the policy of the police which permits the Apaches’ murderous activi- ily in the streets and the boulevards; but the subject is soon dropped, and nothing is done toward the repression of the criminals. It used to be said that. only on the outer boulevards were the Apaches dangerous, but only last week a newspaper called attention in a con- spicuous article, to the fact that they had become emboldened enough to fre- quent even the central opera section, THE VERY HEART OF 'ltili CITY. Thev sneak under the trees of the Champs Elysees and they infest the Bois de Boulogne. beside operating in the streets. In a round-up in the neigh‘ borhood of the Bois not long ago, the police captured some lift of them. all armed with long knives. When they inc picked up in the streets. as occasionally illllli’l‘IIS. they often produce papers signed by small merchants. saying tout the holders are at work for them. investigation has shown that the merchants signed the papers under threats from the Apaches. The Apaches operate usually in groups of three or four or more: rarely, in the ease of the murderer above referred to. alone. When they attack men in the street for money their \'IC- tims seem most often. according to the newspaper accounts. to be stabbed in the back. It may be because the Apaches go in .groups that the-Paris police night 'are always found in .puirs. a fact .\\'!ltl‘il greatly amused Deputy Commissioner Waldo when h! was here in July. MS of Fâ€"â€" .‘l bold story may he “strayed by i‘ lroduc.ng a few hairâ€"raisng meidents