And the world is learning, to its manifest surprise, that plural marriage and "Mormonism" are not synonymous terms.


Its creed provides for the protection of all men in their rights of worship according to the dictates of conscience.


The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists, Mainhall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs, careful to lose touch with none of them.


He had preconceived ideas about everything, and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics.


"It's really quite the best thing MacConnell's done," he explained as they got into a hansom.


It's only lately, since MacConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she's come up.


In a way, it would be a sacrifice; but, dear me, we do need some one."


Just then they drove up to the Duke of York's, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainhall into the theatre.


When they entered the stage box on the left the first act was well under way, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland.


As they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander's attention to the stage.


She doubtless hasn't thought of me for years." He felt the enthusiasm of the house at once, and in a few moments he was caught up by the current of MacConnell's irresistible comedy.


That laugh, now, when she doubles over at the hips-who ever heard it out of Galway?


She's really MacConnell's poetic motif, you see; makes the whole thing a fairy tale."


Alexander, annoyed by Mainhall's sighs and exclamations, watched her with keen, half skeptical interest.


When she began to dance, by way of showing the gossoons what she had seen in the fairy rings at night, the house broke into a prolonged uproar.


They met a good many acquaintances; Mainhall, indeed, knew almost every one, and he babbled on incontinently, screwing his small head about over his high collar.


"MacConnell, let me introduce mr Bartley Alexander.


The playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep set faded eyes and made a wry face.


"And have I done anything so fool as that, now?" he asked.


He nodded curtly and made for the door, dodging acquaintances as he went.


Irene Burgoyne, one of her family, told me in confidence that there was a romance somewhere back in the beginning.


One of your countrymen, Alexander, by the way; an American student whom she met in Paris, I believe.


Blinking up at the lights, Mainhall added in his luxurious, worldly way: "She's an elegant little person, and quite capable of an extravagant bit of sentiment like that.


Sir Harry Towne, mr Bartley Alexander, the American engineer."


Sir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met mr Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.


"I say, Sir Harry, the little girl's going famously to night, isn't she?"


Westmere and I were back after the first act, and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself.


He bowed as the warning bell rang, and Mainhall whispered: "You know Lord Westmere, of course,--the stooped man with the long gray mustache, talking to Lady Dowle.


For some reason he felt pleased and flattered by the enthusiasm of the audience.


When Alexander returned to his hotel-he shook Mainhall at the door of the theatre-he had some supper brought up to his room, and it was late before he went to bed.


When he wrote her that everything was changed for him, he was telling the truth.


After he met Winifred Pemberton he seemed to himself like a different man.


I should torture myself-I couldn't help it." After that it was easy to forget, actually to forget.


He had been in London more or less, but he had never happened to hear of her.


"All the same," he lifted his glass, "here's to you, little Hilda.


You've made things come your way, and I never thought you'd do it.


"Of course," he reflected, "she always had that combination of something homely and sensible, and something utterly wild and daft.


She hadn't much ambition then, and she was too fond of trifles.


She must care about the theatre a great deal more than she used to.


It was youth and poverty and proximity, and everything was young and kindly.


I shouldn't wonder- But they've probably spoiled her, so that she'd be tiresome if one met her again."


On Sunday afternoon Alexander remembered Miss Burgoyne's invitation and called at her apartment.


He found it a delightful little place and he met charming people there.


Hilda lived alone, attended by a very pretty and competent French servant who answered the door and brought in the tea.


Alexander arrived early, and some twenty odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon.


Hugh MacConnell came with his sister, and stood about, managing his tea cup awkwardly and watching every one out of his deep set, faded eyes.


He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere, and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come in to a young girl's party.


Sarah Frost, the novelist, came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension.


On other matters he was perfectly rational and he was easy and pleasing in conversation.


They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda.


Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon.


He had a long talk with MacConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind.


For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure.


On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square.


He sent up his card, but it came back to him with a message scribbled across the front.


When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs.


Hilda was writing in her living room, under the light of a tall desk lamp.


Bartley recognized the primrose satin gown she had worn that first evening at Lady Walford's.


"I'm so pleased that you think me worth that yellow dress, you know," he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair.


I've no need for fine clothes in Mac's play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself.


It's owing to that same chance, by the way, that I am able to ask you to dinner.


"I haven't had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is.


He painted that group of cypresses for the Salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg."


"Rooms always look better by lamplight-in London, at least.


Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning."


"I can't tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear every one saying such nice things about you.


You've got awfully nice friends," he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk.


Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously: "I've a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway.


I've managed to save something every year, and that with helping my three sisters now and then, and tiding poor Cousin Mike over bad seasons.


He's that gifted, you know, but he will drink and loses more good engagements than other fellows ever get.


Marie opened the door and smilingly announced that dinner was served.


"My dining room," Hilda explained, as she led the way, "is the tiniest place you have ever seen."


It was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china.


"It's not particularly rare," she said, "but some of it was my mother's.


Heaven knows how she managed to keep it whole, through all our wanderings, or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasn't been stowed away.


We always had our tea out of those blue cups when I was a little girl, sometimes in the queerest lodgings, and sometimes on a trunk at the theatre-queer theatres, for that matter."


He drank it appreciatively and remarked that there was still no other he liked so well.


I don't drink it myself, but I like to see it behave when it's poured.


But I don't like it so well as this." Bartley held the yellow wine against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly about.


He's a big, handsome creature, and he hates Americans as much as ever.


She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there, and was so delighted to see me again.


I gave her all my old clothes, even my old hats, though she always wears her Breton headdress.


Her hair is still like flax, and her blue eyes are just like a baby's, and she has the same three freckles on her little nose, and talks about going back to her bains de mer."


Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh.


"It was on the Quai we met that woman who was crying so bitterly.


I gave her a spray of lilac, I remember, and you gave her a franc.


What a strong brown face she had, and very tragic.


She looked at us with such despair and longing, out from under her black shawl.


What she wanted from us was neither our flowers nor our francs, but just our youth.


They were both remembering what the woman had said when she took the money: "God give you a happy love!"


Until she spoke, Bartley had not realized that he was in love. The strange woman, and her passionate sentence that rang out so sharply, had frightened them both.


They went home sadly with the lilacs, back to the Rue Saint Jacques, walking very slowly, arm in arm.


When they reached the house where Hilda lodged, Bartley went across the court with her, and up the dark old stairs to the third landing; and there he had kissed her for the first time.


He had shut his eyes to give him the courage, he remembered, and she had trembled so-


It was very jolly," he murmured lazily, as Marie came in to take away the coffee.


When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.


Of course I can't really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me.


Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!"


Hilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. "It's really too warm in this room to sing.


He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said: "It's soft and misty.


She caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round.


Bartley leaned over her shoulder, without touching her, and whispered in her ear: "You are giving me a chance?"


The last two days of the voyage Bartley found almost intolerable.


The stop at Queenstown, the tedious passage up the Mersey, were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience.


Emerging at Euston at half past three o'clock in the afternoon, Alexander had his luggage sent to the Savoy and drove at once to Bedford Square.


A coal fire was crackling in the grate and the lamps were lit, for it was already beginning to grow dark outside.


I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up.


I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along.


She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.


I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train."


Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze.


She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.


Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright.


She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley.


She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.


"I'll do anything you wish me to, Bartley," she said tremulously.


He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him.


"It . . . it hasn't always made you miserable, has it?" Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.


"But why NOW?" she asked piteously, wringing her hands.


The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can't get at it any more.


She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her.


"Could you-could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?"


He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.


Hilda's face quivered, but she whispered: "Yes, I think it must have been.


We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy."


"Yes, I was happy, wasn't I?" She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. "Weren't you happy then, at all?"


She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days.


Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too.


"Yes, yes," she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve.


At least, tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy."


"You see, my mistake was in wanting you to have everything.


I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you.


Bartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.


What must I do that I've not done, or what must I not do?" She listened intently, but she heard nothing but the creaking of his chair.


"You want to tell me that you can only see me like this, as old friends do, or out in the world among people?


What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again, no matter how often I come, no matter how hard I beg."


She stood over him with her hands clenched at her side, her body rigid.


I carried it all lightly enough at first, but now I don't dare trifle with it.


I'm growing older, and you've got my young self here with you.


You ask me to stay away from you because you want me!


I will ask the least imaginable, but I must have SOMETHING!"


Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.


I must have you to think of through the months and months of loneliness.


The sight of you, Bartley, to see you living and happy and successful-can I never make you understand what that means to me?" She pressed his shoulders gently.


"You see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different.


If I'd met you later, if I hadn't loved you so well-but that's all over, long ago.


And then you came back, not caring very much, but it made no difference."


She slid to the floor beside him, as if she were too tired to sit up any longer.


Bartley bent over and took her in his arms, kissing her mouth and her wet, tired eyes.


She has a son, theft, and a daughter, hunger.


We have never understood this sort of objections.


Nothing is more lugubrious than the contemplation thus in its nudity, in the broad light of thought, of the horrible swarming of slang.


It seems, in fact, to be a sort of horrible beast made for the night which has just been torn from its cesspool.


Now, when has horror ever excluded study?


Since when has malady banished medicine?


He would be like a philologist refusing to examine a fact in language, a philosopher hesitating to scrutinize a fact in humanity.


To meet the needs of this conflict, wretchedness has invented a language of combat, which is slang.


Phoenician, very good! Levantine, quite right!


They are tongues which have belonged to nations or provinces; but slang!


To this we reply in one word, only.


Have these historians of hearts and souls duties at all inferior to the historians of external facts?


Does any one think that Alighieri has any fewer things to say than Machiavelli?


Is the under side of civilization any less important than the upper side merely because it is deeper and more sombre?


The history of manners and ideas permeates the history of events, and this is true reciprocally.


True history being a mixture of all things, the true historian mingles in everything.


Man is not a circle with a single centre; he is an ellipse with a double focus.


Facts form one of these, and ideas the other.


There it clothes itself in word masks, in metaphor rags.


In this guise it becomes horrible.


Is it really the French tongue, the great human tongue?


It is slang. The words are misshapen and stamped with an indescribable and fantastic bestiality.


It gnashes and whispers, completing the gloom with mystery.


It is black in misfortune, it is blacker still in crime; these two blacknesses amalgamated, compose slang.


Obscurity in the atmosphere, obscurity in acts, obscurity in voices.


The earth is not devoid of resemblance to a jail.


Who knows whether man is not a recaptured offender against divine justice?


It is so made, that everywhere we feel the sense of punishment.


Well! you are sad every day.


Each day has its own great grief or its little care.


One cloud is dispelled, another forms.


There is hardly one day out of a hundred which is wholly joyous and sunny.


And you belong to that small class who are happy!


As for the rest of mankind, stagnating night rests upon them.


Thoughtful minds make but little use of the phrase: the fortunate and the unfortunate.


In this world, evidently the vestibule of another, there are no fortunate.


To diminish the number of the shady, to augment the number of the luminous,--that is the object.


That is why we cry: Education! science!


To teach reading, means to light the fire; every syllable spelled out sparkles.


However, he who says light does not, necessarily, say joy.


People suffer in the light; excess burns.


To burn without ceasing to fly,--therein lies the marvel of genius.


When you shall have learned to know, and to love, you will still suffer. The day is born in tears.


"Oh, it's easy enough to make a fortune," Henry said.


"It seems to be easier than it is, I begin to think," replied Philip.


Philip Sterling used to say that if he should seriously set himself for ten years to any one of the dozen projects that were in his brain, he felt that he could be a rich man.


Delightful illusion of paint and tinsel and silk attire, of cheap sentiment and high and mighty dialogue!


Will there not always be rosin enough for the squeaking fiddle bow?


The fact was, though Philip Sterling did not know it, that he wanted several other things quite as much as he wanted wealth.


If he were good enough he would attach himself to that company of young men in the Theological Seminary, who were seeing New York life in preparation for the ministry.


Philip had a good appetite, a sunny temper, and a clear hearty laugh.


He had brown hair, hazel eyes set wide apart, a broad but not high forehead, and a fresh winning face.


His pen therefore, and whereas, and not as aforesaid, strayed off into other scribbling.


It seemed to him that the newspaper managers didn't want genius, but mere plodding and grubbing.


Philip therefore read diligently in the Astor library, planned literary works that should compel attention, and nursed his genius.


"Take it of course," says Gringo, "take anything that offers, why not?"


That party is going to succeed, it's going to elect the next president."


But Philip did afford it, and he wrote, thanking his friends, and declining because he said the political scheme would fail, and ought to fail.


And he went back to his books and to his waiting for an opening large enough for his dignified entrance into the literary world.


It was in this time of rather impatient waiting that Philip was one morning walking down Broadway with Henry Brierly.


The two were intimate at that time,--they had been classmates-and saw a great deal of each other.


"I think I should like it of all things," replied Philip, with some hesitation, "but what for."


We are going, a lot of us, railroad men, engineers, contractors.


You can begin by carrying a rod, and putting down the figures.


"When do you go?" was Philip's next question, after some moments of silence.


It was settled therefore, in the prompt way in which things are settled in New York, that they would start with the rest of the company next morning for the west.


The night was spent in packing up and writing letters, for Philip would not take such an important step without informing his friends.


If they disapprove, thought he, I've done my duty by letting them know.


Happy youth, that is ready to pack its valise, and start for Cathay on an hour's notice.


"Why, it's in Missouri somewhere, on the frontier I think.


Philip wrote a long letter, first of all, to his mother, full of love and glowing anticipations of his new opening.


He knew his uncle would be glad to hear that he had at last turned his thoughts to a practical matter.


He might never see her again; he went to seek his fortune.


He well knew the perils of the frontier, the savage state of society, the lurking Indians and the dangers of fever.


But there was no real danger to a person who took care of himself.


Might he write to her often and, tell her of his life.


If he returned with a fortune, perhaps and perhaps.


If he was unsuccessful, or if he never returned-perhaps it would be as well.


No time or distance, however, would ever lessen his interest in her.


He would say good night, but not good bye.


It is a city of steady thrift, the arms of which might well be the deliberate but delicious terrapin that imparts such a royal flavor to its feasts.


It was a spring morning, and perhaps it was the influence of it that made ruth a little restless, satisfied neither with the out doors nor the in doors.


But ruth confessed that she was tired of them, and also of the Mint.


Whatever she thought, she was not idly musing, as one might see by the expression of her face.


"Well, mother," said the young student, looking up, with a shade of impatience.


"I wanted to talk with thee a little about thy plans."


"Mother; thee knows I couldn't stand it at Westfield; the school stifled me, it's a place to turn young people into dried fruit."


"I know," said Margaret Bolton, with a half anxious smile, "thee chafes against all the ways of Friends, but what will thee do?


"If I must say it, mother, I want to go away, and get out of this dead level."


"I hope thee told the elders that father and I are responsible for the piano, and that, much as thee loves music, thee is never in the room when it is played.


Fortunately father is already out of meeting, so they can't discipline him.


I heard father tell cousin Abner that he was whipped so often for whistling when he was a boy that he was determined to have what compensation he could get now."


"Thy ways greatly try me, ruth, and all thy relations.


ruth turned square round to her mother, and with an impassive face and not the slightest change of tone, said,


Margaret Bolton almost lost for a moment her habitual placidity.


A slight frail girl like thee, study medicine! Does thee think thee could stand it six months?


And the lectures, and the dissecting rooms, has thee thought of the dissecting rooms?"


"Mother," said ruth calmly, "I have thought it all over.


I know I can go through the whole, clinics, dissecting room and all.


What is there to fear in a person dead more than in a person living?"


"But thy health and strength, child; thee can never stand the severe application.


And, besides, suppose thee does learn medicine?"


ruth sat quite still for a time, with face intent and flushed.


The sight seers returned in high spirits from the city.


Think of the stone shingles of the roof eight inches thick!


If they were orphans, would they like to be brought up in a Grecian temple?


Wasn't it the broadest and the longest street in the world?


"Is thee going to the Yearly Meeting, ruth?" asked one of the girls.


"I have nothing to wear," replied that demure person.


"If thee wants to see new bonnets, orthodox to a shade and conformed to the letter of the true form, thee must go to the Arch Street Meeting.


Any departure from either color or shape would be instantly taken note of.


That evening ruth and her father sat late by the drawing room fire, as they were quite apt to do at night.


"Thee has another letter from young Sterling," said Eli Bolton.


Is he going to start a daily newspaper among the Kick a poos?"


"What sort of business can a young man go into without capital?"


"I should think so, you innocent puss, and in an old one too.


Father, I should like to break things and get loose!"


What a sweet voiced little innocent, it was to be sure.


"I want to be something, to make myself something, to do something.


Why should I rust, and be stupid, and sit in inaction because I am a girl? What would happen to me if thee should lose thy property and die?


What one useful thing could I do for a living, for the support of mother and the children?


And if I had a fortune, would thee want me to lead a useless life?"


"Somewhat that depends upon whether her children amount to anything," retorted the sharp little disputant.


"What's the good, father, of a series of human beings who don't advance any?"


"Has thee consulted thy mother about a career, I suppose it is a career thee wants?"


ruth did not reply directly; she complained that her mother didn't understand her.


But that wise and placid woman understood the sweet rebel a great deal better than ruth understood herself.


Philip liked the letter, as he did everything she did; but he had a dim notion that there was more about herself in the letter than about him.


He took it with him from the Southern Hotel, when he went to walk, and read it over and again in an unfrequented street as he stumbled along.


The rather common place and unformed hand writing seemed to him peculiar and characteristic, different from that of any other woman.


"Miss Milner's health is not good!" said mrs Horton a few minutes after.


Lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her.


"So there is to me!" added Sandford, with a sarcastic sneer.


"I am glad to hear it," he returned quickly; "for although I am not of a suspicious nature, yet in regard to her affections for him, I cannot but still have my doubts."


Yet I cannot but lament that I am not as well informed as you are.


I wish to prove my friendship to Miss Milner, but she will not suffer me-and every step that I take for her happiness, I take in the most perplexing uncertainty."


"Great as my friendship is, there are certainly bounds to it-bounds that shall save her in spite of herself:"--and he raised his voice.


"My Lord, Miss Milner's taste is not a depraved one; it is but too refined."


Is she not afraid that I will thwart her inclinations?"


Again he searched his own thoughts; nor ineffectually as before.


"For God's sake take care what you are doing-you are destroying my prospects of futurity-you are making this world too dear to me."


Lord Elmwood was sensible of the embarrassment his presence gave Miss Woodley, and understood the reproaches which she seemed to vent upon herself in silence.


To relieve her from both, he laid his hand with force upon his heart, and said, "Do you believe me?"


"I will make no unjust use of what I know," he replied with firmness.


"But for what my passions now dictate," continued he, "I will not answer.


They are confused-they are triumphant at present.


I have never yet, however, been vanquished by them; and even upon this occasion, my reason shall combat them to the last-and my reason shall fail me, before I do wrong."


He was going to leave the room-she followed him, and cried, "But, my Lord, how shall I see again the unhappy object of my treachery?"


Miss Woodley was going to say something farther, but as if incapable of attending to her, he hastened out of the room.


"You won't never see nothin' of 'em," said mr Popham.


"People don't have to be doctors of medicine," interrupted Gilbert. "Grandfather was Alexander Carey, l l.D.,--Doctor of Laws, that is."


"What has he done to make him so unpopular?" queried mrs Carey.


He keeps the thou shalt not commandments first rate, Hen Lord does!


He neglected his wife and froze her blood and frightened her to death, poor little shadder!


mr Popham exaggerated nothing, but on the contrary left much unsaid in his narrative of the family at the House of Lords.


Always irritable, cold, indifferent, he had grown rapidly more so as years went on.


Whatever appealed to her sense of beauty was straightway transferred to paper or canvas.


She makes effort after effort, trembling with eagerness, and when she fails to reproduce what she sees, she works herself into a frenzy of grief and disappointment."


"You'd better give her lessons in self control," mr Lord answered. "They are cheaper than instruction in drawing, and much more practical."


O! Cyril, there must be some better way of doing; I just draw the outline of an animal and then I put hairs or feathers on it.


"Why don't you do flowers and houses, Olive?" inquired Cyril solicitously.


"And people paint fruit, and dead fish on platters, and pitchers of lemonade with ice in,--why don't you try things like those?"


Her gloomy young heart was visited by frequent storms and she looked as unlovable as she was unloved.


The first interview, purely a casual one, took place on the edge of the lily pond where Olive was sketching frogs, and where Nancy went for cat o'-nine tails.


Nancy's curly chestnut crop shone in the sun, and Olive's thick black plaits looked blacker by contrast.


A few moments later Nancy entered her mother's room, her arms filled with treasures from the woods and fields.


She's older than I am, but so tiny and sad and shy that she seems like a child.


Oh, mother, there's always so much spare room in your heart,--for you took in Julia and yet we never felt the difference,--won't you make a place for Olive?


There never was anybody needed you so much as she does,--never."


Have you ever lifted a stone and seen the pale, yellow, stunted shoots of grass under it?


Water flowed freely through Cousin Ann's expensive pipes, that had been buried so deep in their trenches that the winter frosts could not affect them.


To night there was no need of extra heat, and there were great ceremonies to be observed in lighting the fires on the hearthstones.


"Was that the Bible, Osh?" whispered Bill Harmon.


"Don't know; 'most everything she says sounds like the Bible or Shakespeare to me."


Then Nancy handed peter a loosely bound sheaf, saying: "To light this fire I give you a torch.


Next came Olive's turn to help in the ceremonies.


Gilbert, at the head of the procession, held Mother Hamilton's picture, which had been taken from the old brick oven where "my son Tom" had hidden it.


Mother Carey's bedroom, with its bouquets of field flowers on the wall paper, was gaily lighted and ready to receive the gift.


Underneath it we lay a posy of pressed daisies, buttercups, and Queen Anne's lace, the wild flowers she loved best."


Thou who settest the solitary in families, bless the life that is sheltered here.


Grant that trust and peace and comfort may abide within, and that love and light and usefulness may go out from this house forever.


"Ain't they the greatest?" murmured Lallie Joy, turning to her father, but he had disappeared from the group.


Mother Carey poured coffee, Nancy chocolate, and the others helped serve the sandwiches and cake, doughnuts and tarts.


Approaching the dining table, he carefully placed the article in the centre and removed the cloth.


The guests naturally had no associations with the Carey Curse, and the Careys themselves were dumb with amazement and despair.


"I've seen this thing layin' in the barn chamber in a thousand pieces all summer!" explained mr Popham radiantly.


"Thank you, mr Popham!" said mrs Carey, her eyes twinkling as she looked at the laughing children.


"It was kind of you to spend so much time in our behalf."


Last of all the entire company gathered round the old-fashioned piano for a parting hymn.


The tall silver candle sticks gleamed in the firelight, the silver dish of polished Baldwins blushed rosier in the glow.


Mother Carey played the dear old common metre tune, and the voices rang out in Whittier's hymn.


"Once more the liberal year laughs out O'er richer stores than gems or gold; Once more, with harvest song and shout Is Nature's bloodless triumph told."


Hector Servadac was thirty years of age, an orphan without lineage and almost without means.


In an instant Servadac mounted the side work, laid himself down in the gap, and thus filling up the breach by his own body, shouted, "March on!"


And through a storm of shot, not one of which touched the prostrate officer, the troop passed in safety.


Ben Zoof was devoted, body and soul, to his superior officer.


Ben Zoof, however, did not despair of ultimately converting the captain, and meanwhile had resolved never to leave him.


Servadac had saved Ben Zoof's life in Japan; Ben Zoof had rendered his master a like service in the Soudan.


After rounding the peak, she steered direct for the channel to which Servadac by his gestures was pointing her, and was not long in entering the creek.


"I am not sure," said he, "but what the tour of the Mediterranean will prove to be the tour of the world."


CHAPTER ten A SEARCH FOR ALGERIA


Her sea going qualities were excellent, and would have amply sufficed for a circumnavigation of the globe.


Steam up and canvas spread, the schooner started eastwards.


With a favorable wind she would certainly have made eleven knots an hour had not the high waves somewhat impeded her progress.


For a few miles she followed the line hitherto presumably occupied by the coast of Algeria; but no land appeared to the south.


"No doubt about that," said Servadac; "and I suppose that, having crossed the orbit of Venus, we have a good chance of running into the orbit of Mercury."


"And finish up by a collision with the sun!" added the count.


The earth has undoubtedly entered upon a new orbit, but she is not incurring any probable risk of being precipitated onto the sun"


I can give you a proof which I think you will own is conclusive.


"And what demonstration do you offer," asked Servadac eagerly, "that it will not happen?"


The lieutenant paused to allow time for reflection, and added: "Moreover, I have every reason to believe that we are not so near the sun as we have been.


At the same time, we have the problem still unsolved that the Mediterranean has evidently been transported to the equatorial zone."


But Algiers, like all the other coast towns, had apparently been absorbed into the bowels of the earth.


Captain Servadac, with clenched teeth and knitted brow, stood sternly, almost fiercely, regarding the boundless waste of water.


His pulse beat fast as he recalled the friends and comrades with whom he had spent the last few years in that vanished city.


"Is it not impossible," he murmured aloud, "that any city should disappear so completely?


Would not the loftiest eminences of the city at least be visible?


Surely some portion of the Casbah must still rise above the waves?


"You must see, lieutenant, I should think, that we are not so near the coast of Algeria as you imagined."


For the next thirty six hours, until the fourth of February, the sea was examined and explored with the most unflagging perseverance.


Nothing was to be done but to put about, and return in disappointment towards the north.


Two hundred warriors feasted in his hall and followed him to battle.


Ten sons sat at meat with him, and I was the youngest.


At the prow I carved the head with open mouth and forked tongue thrust out.


"'There, stand so!' I said, 'and glare and hiss at my foes.'


There I put the pilot's seat and a strong tiller for the rudder.


"'This is my vow: I will sail to Norway and I will harry the coast and fill my boat with riches.


"But others jumped to their feet with their mead horns in their hands. Thirty men, one after another, raised their horns and said:


As our boat flashed down the rollers into the water I made this song and sang it:


"'My dragon's belly is never full,' and on board went the gold.


"Oh! it is better to live on the sea and let other men raise your crops and cook your meals.


"Up and down the water we went to get much wealth and much frolic.


Hello!' I shouted, and my men made a great din.


"The door opened only a little, but I pushed it wide and leaped into the room.


It was so dark that I could see nothing but a few sparks on the hearth.


I stood with my back to the wall; for I wanted no sword reaching out of the dark for me.


On a bench in a far corner were a dozen people huddled together.


"'Well, friend farmer,' laughed one, 'why such a long face?


They set up a crane over the fire and hung the pot upon it, and we sat and watched it boil while we joked.


So I will give out this law: that my men shall never leave you alone.


He shall not leave you day or night, whether you are working or playing or sleeping.


Leif and Grim shall be the same kind of friends to your two sons.'


Besides, it was a lonely place, and by good luck no one came that way.


"Well, after we had been there for a long time, Hakon came in to the feast one night and said:


I followed the groom up to my room, not over well pleased with my first experience of the farm.


I set them down as men with undeveloped qualities, waiting (the good and evil qualities alike) for time and circumstances to bring them to their full growth.


He was short, spare, and wiry; singularly pale for a person whose life was passed in the country.


The face was in other respects, besides this, a striking face to see.


"A little cracked"--that in the popular phrase was my impression of the stranger who now made his appearance in the supper room.


He is not well; he has come over the ocean for rest, and change of scene.


They pointedly drew back from john Jago as he approached the empty chair next to me and moved round to the opposite side of the table.


A young lady quietly joined the party at the supper table.


A pretty girl, and, so far as I could judge by appearances, a good girl too.


Our first impressions of people are, in nine cases out of ten, the right impressions.


I liked Naomi Colebrook at first sight; liked her pleasant smile; liked her hearty shake of the hand when we were presented to each other.


She changed color for a moment, and looked at him, with a pretty, reluctant tenderness, as she took her chair.


He looked up at Naomi doubtingly from his plate, and looked down again slowly with a frown. When I addressed him, he answered constrainedly.


Even when he spoke to mr Meadowcroft, he was still on his guard-on his guard against the two young men, as I fancied by the direction which his eyes took on these occasions.


A more dreary and more disunited family party I never sat at the table with.


Whether external conditions produce any other direct effect on man is not known.


But this subject will be more properly discussed when we treat of the different races of mankind.


EFFECTS OF THE INCREASED USE AND DISUSE OF PARTS.


When an artery is tied, the lateral channels increase not only in diameter, but in the thickness and strength of their coats.


When one kidney ceases to act from disease, the other increases in size, and does double work.


Now let us apply these generally admitted principles to the races of man, viewing him in the same spirit as a naturalist would any other animal.


Father Ripa makes exactly the same remark with respect to the Chinese.); and the Hindoo cannot at first perceive any difference between the several European nations.


The races differ also in constitution, in acclimatisation and in liability to certain diseases.


Their mental characteristics are likewise very distinct; chiefly as it would appear in their emotional, but partly in their intellectual faculties.


Even some of the most strongly marked races cannot be identified with that degree of unanimity which might have been expected from what has been written on the subject.


These Pediculi were darker coloured, and appeared different from those proper to the natives of Chiloe in South America, of which he gave me specimens.


These, again, appeared larger and much softer than European lice.


In these latter cases it may be presumed that the Pediculi came from natives inhabiting different districts.


Our supposed naturalist having proceeded thus far in his investigation, would next enquire whether the races of men, when crossed, were in any degree sterile.


dr Rohlfs writes to me that he found the mixed races in the Great Sahara, derived from Arabs, Berbers, and Negroes of three tribes, extraordinarily fertile.


The degrees of sterility do not coincide strictly with the degrees of difference between the parents in external structure or habits of life.


But Rodolfo had been struck by the great beauty of Leocadia, the hidalgo's daughter, and presently he began to entertain the idea of enjoying it at all hazards.


Finally, the one party went off exulting, and the other was left in desolation and woe.


Apathy and disgust commonly follow satiated lust.


Rodolfo was now impatient to get rid of Leocadia, and made up his mind to lay her in the street, insensible as she was.


It is the only amends I ask of you for the wrong you have done me."


You may wonder to hear me speak thus, being so young.


She succeeded in opening the window; and the moonlight shone in so brightly, that she could distinguish the colour of some damask hangings in the room.


She counted the chairs and the cabinets, observed the position of the door, and also perceived some pictures hanging on the walls, but was not able to distinguish the subjects.


Among other things on which she cast her eyes was a small crucifix of solid silver, standing on a cabinet near the window.


Having come to this resolution, he hastened back to remove Leocadia before daylight appeared, which would compel him to keep her in his room all the following day.


They had not undressed, or thought of taking any rest.


Real dishonour consists in sin, and real honour in virtue.


Rodolfo meanwhile having returned home, and having missed the crucifix, guessed who had taken it, but gave himself no concern about it.


For this and other reasons, Rodolfo readily complied with the wishes of his father, who gave him ample letters of credit on Barcelona, Genoa, Rome, and Naples.


One day, when the boy was sent by his grandfather with a message to a relation, he passed along a street in which there was a great concourse of horsemen.


The poor child lay senseless on the ground, bleeding profusely from his head.


Many gentlemen followed him, greatly distressed at the sad accident which had befallen the general favourite; for it was soon on everybody's lips that the sufferer was little Luis.


The news speedily reached the ears of his grandparents and his supposed cousin, who all hurried in wild dismay to look for their darling.


The master and mistress begged them not to cry, or raise their voices in lamentation; for it would do the little patient no good.


The surgeon desired them not to talk to him, but leave him to repose.


The lady of the house spoke to the same effect, and with no less kindness and cordiality.


The bed she too well remembered was there; and, above all, the cabinet, on which had stood the image she had taken away, was still on the same spot.


But, as the proverb says, with the disease God sends the remedy.


The boy found his recovery in this house; and I found in it reminiscences of events I shall never forget as long as I live.


On seeing his wife all in tears, and Leocadia fainting, he eagerly inquired the cause of so startling a spectacle.


The boy having embraced his mother, calling her his cousin, and his grandmother, calling her his benefactress, repeated his grandfather's question.


This truth which I have learned from her lips is confirmed by his face, in which we have both beheld that of our son."


"Unless you speak more fully, senora, I cannot understand you," replied her husband.


They added that Rodolfo told them, on the following day, that he had carried the girl to his own apartment; and this was all they knew of the matter.


If my wife brings me this, I will thank Heaven for the gift, and make my parents happy in their old age."


Rodolfo thanked her, and supper being ready they went to join the rest of the party at table.


Go," she said to a servant, "and ask the senora.


The lady soon appeared, presenting a most charming spectacle of perfect beauty, set off by the most appropriate adornments.


Her bearing was graceful and animated; she led her son by the hand, and before her walked two maids with wax lights and silver candlesticks.


The hopes her mother had given her of being his wife began to droop, and the fear came strong upon her that such bliss was not for one so luckless as herself.


This shocking news reached the ears of her parents, whom Dona Estafania had concealed in another room that they might make their appearance at the right moment.


At last they sat down to a merry supper to the sound of music, for the performers, who had been previously engaged, were now arrived.


'You know Captain Lake?' said Lord Chelford, addressing me.


There was something evil and shrinking in his aspect, which I felt with a sort of chill, like the commencing fascination of a serpent.


I often thought since that he had expected to see Wylder before him.


The church yard meteor expired, there was nothing in a moment but his ordinary smile of recognition.


My mother could tell us all about it-we, Brandons, Lakes; Wylders, and Chelfords.'


At this moment Miss Brandon entered, with her brilliant Cousin Rachel. The blonde and the dark, it was a dazzling contrast.


So Chelford led Stanley Lake before the lady of the castle.


Whatever Lord Chelford said, Miss Brandon received it very graciously, and even with a momentary smile.


'Shake hands with your cousin, my dear,' said old Lady Chelford, peremptorily.


When Lord Chelford joined us, I perceived that Wylder was in the room, and saw a very cordial greeting between him and Lake.


'Now, here's a thing worth your looking at!


It is such a darling little thing; and-look now-is not it magnificent?'


I see-to be sure-really, Wylder, it does your taste infinite credit.'


'I'm glad you like it,' says Wylder, chuckling benignantly on it, over his shoulder.


'What are you laughing at?' asked Wylder, a little snappishly.


'Fie, Lake, there's no poetry in you,' said Lord Chelford, laughing.


Look at it, do, mr Wylder-isn't it like the ace of hearts?'


Wylder was laughing rather redly, with the upper part of his face very surly, I thought.


'Never mind, Wylder, it's the winning card,' said Lord Chelford, laying his hand on his shoulder.


Whereupon Lake laughed quietly, still looking on the ace of hearts with his sly eyes.


It can't be for money, or balls, or play, and he has no honest business anywhere.


I really can't tell; but he'll soon tire of country life.


I don't know anything about him almost; but I hate him.'


I took a dislike to him at first sight long ago, and that never happened me but I was right.'


he'll soon be back in town, or to Brighton,' I said.


Just to get him off this unpleasant groove with a little jolt, I said-


'By the bye, Wylder, you know the pictures here; who is the tall man, with the long pale face, and wild phosphoric eyes?


I was always afraid of him; in a long peruke, and dark red velvet coat, facing the hall door.


He was going to marry the gamekeeper's daughter, it was thought, and he and the old boy, who was for high blood, and all that, were at loggerheads about it.


It was not proved, only thought likely, which showed what a nice character he was; but he might have done worse.


I suppose Miss Partridge would have had a precious lot of babbies; and who knows where the estate would have been by this time.'


'I believe, Charlie,' he recommenced suddenly, 'there is not such an unnatural family on record as ours; is there?


I forget all the other good things he did; but he ended by shooting himself through the head in his bed room, and that was not the worst thing ever he did.'


'I don't know; but I think he mentioned Larkins's house, didn't he?


'You seem to be very sensible, mr De Cresseron; pray tell me, frankly, what do you think of all this?'


'There can hardly be a second opinion, Miss Brandon; I think it a very wise measure,' I replied, much surprised.


But don't these very wise things sometimes turn out very foolishly?


Do you really think your friend, mr Wylder, cares about me?'


'I take that for granted: in the nature of things it can hardly be otherwise,' I replied, a good deal startled and perplexed by the curious audacity of her interrogatory.


She was so unreserved, it seemed, and yet in this directness there was something almost contemptuous.


By this time Lord Chelford and Wylder returned; and, disgusted rather with myself, I ruminated on my want of general ship.


'I really don't think Wylder cares twopence about her, or she about him,' and Stanley Lake laughed gently and sleepily.


'But I thought she liked Sir Harry Bracton: he's a good looking fellow; and Queen's Bracton is a very nice thing, you know.'


'Yes, so they said; but that would, I think, have been worse.


If a fellow's been a little bit wild, he's Beelzebub at once. Bracton's a very good fellow, I can assure you.'


'It is very happy, for her at least, they are not,' said Rachel, and a long silence ensued.


Their walk continued silent for the greater part, neither was quite satisfied with the other.


'I, Radie?' he answered quietly, 'why on earth should you think so?'


'Now that's impossible, Radie; for I really don't think I once thought of him all this evening-except just while we were talking.'


Miss Rachel only glanced across her mufflers on his face.


There was a bright moonlight, broken by the shadows of overhanging boughs and withered leaves; and the mottled lights and shadows glided oddly across his pale features.


Mark my words, you'll find him too strong for you; aye, and too deep.


Whatever you meditate, he probably anticipates it-you know best-and you will find him prepared.


You were always the same, close, dark, and crooked, and wise in your own conceit.


To my mind there has always been something inexpressibly awful in family feuds.


The portion of it which the carpet did not cover showed it to be oak, dark and rugged.


I did not even take the precaution of smoking up the chimney.


I peeped through the dense window curtain there were no shutters.


The sombre old trees, like gigantic hearse plumes, black and awful.


A little bit of plaster tumbled down the chimney, and startled me confoundedly.


It was not very much past eleven that morning when the pony carriage from Brandon drew up before the little garden wicket of Redman's Farm.


'Better to day, Tamar?' enquired this grand and beautiful young lady.


She was up and dressed, and this moment coming down, and would be very happy to see Miss Brandon, if she would step into the drawing room.


Miss Brandon took old Tamar's hand gently and pressed it.


She was sanguine, she was genial and companionable, and her spirits rose at the sight of a friendly face.


'Rachel, dear, I'm so glad to see you,' said Dorcas, placing her arms gently about her neck, and kissing her twice or thrice.


'You have been more ill than I thought, darling, and you are still far from quite recovered.'


Rachel's pale and sharpened features and dilated eye struck her with a painful surprise.


'I shall soon be as well as I am ever likely to be-that is, quite well,' answered Rachel.


I've heard of your coming here, and sending, so often.'


They sat down side by side, and Dorcas held her hand.


'Maybe, Rachel dear, you would like to drive a little?'


Poor Rachel! her nature recoiled from deceit, and she told, at all events, as much of the truth as she dared.


'Rachel, dear, you have not told my secret?'


She spoke with a sudden energy, which partook of fear and passion, and flushed her thin cheek, and made her languid eyes flash.


'Thank you, Rachel, my Cousin Rachel, my only friend.


I ought not to have doubted you,' and she kissed her again.


'You have heard, of course, of mr Wylder's absence?'


I meant to speak to him and end all between us; and I would now write, but there is no address to his letters.


If he does not return in a day or two, Chelford, I am sure, will speak to me, and then I shall tell him my resolution.'


'I don't think, Rachel dear, you heard me?' said Dorcas.


'Can I conjecture why he is gone?' murmured Rachel, still gazing with a wild kind of apathy into distance.


And the wan oracle having spoken, she sate down in the same sort of abstraction again beside Dorcas, and she looked full in her cousin's eyes.


'I made you a voluntary promise, Dorcas, and now you will make me one.


Be he near, or be he far, I regard his very name with horror.'


Dorcas returned her gaze with one of haughty amazement; and Rachel said,


'Dorcas, you are changed; have I lost your love for asking so poor a kindness?'


'I'm only disappointed, Rachel; I thought you would have trusted me, as I did you.'


'It is an antipathy-an antipathy I cannot get over, dear Dorcas; you may think it a madness, but don't blame me.


Remember I am neither well nor happy, and forgive what you cannot like in me.


I have very few to love me now, and I thought you might love me, as I have begun to love you.


Oh! Dorcas, darling, don't forsake me; I am very lonely here and my spirits are gone and I never needed kindness so much before.'


And she threw her arms round her cousin's neck, and brave Rachel at last burst into tears.


Dorcas, in her strange way, was moved.


'I like you still, Rachel; I'm sure I'll always like you.


You resemble me, Rachel: you are fearless and inflexible and generous.


That spirit belongs to the blood of our strange race; all our women were so.


I was wounded to find you had thoughts you would not trust to me; but I have made the promise, and I'll keep it; and I love you all the same.'


I like to call you cousin-kindred is so pleasant.


Thank you, from my heart, for your love; you will never know, perhaps, how much it is to me.'


The young queen looked on her kindly, but sadly, through her large, strange eyes, clouded with a presage of futurity, and she kissed her again, and said-


At sight of this castle or cottage in the air, Rachel lighted up.


What a nice little fir!" But this was what the Tree could not bear to hear.


All passed so quickly, there was so much going on around him, the Tree quite forgot to look to himself.


"It was a deliberate theft from his employers to protect a girl he loved.


So this boy was doubly foolish in ruining himself to get sixty dollars to pay an unjust demand."


"He was soft hearted and impetuous," said Beth; "and, being in love, he didn't stop to count the cost."


So as soon as breakfast was over the next morning Beth and Kenneth took one of the automobiles, the boy consenting unwillingly to this sort of locomotion because it would save much time.


Fairview was twelve miles away, but by ten o'clock they drew up at the county jail.


They were received in the little office by a man named Markham, who was the jailer.


He was a round faced, respectable appearing fellow, but his mood was distinctly unsociable.


I'm running for Representative on the Republican ticket," said Kenneth, quietly.


that's different," observed Markham, altering his demeanor. "You mustn't mind my being gruff and grumpy, mr Forbes.


I've just stopped smoking a few days ago, and it's got on my nerves something awful!"


"Thank you, mr Markham," replied a quiet voice, as a young man came forward from the dim interior of the cell.


"Miss DeGraf," said Kenneth, noticing the boy's face critically, as he stood where the light from the passage fell upon it.


Then he deliberately locked Kenneth and Beth in with the forger, and retreated along the passage.


"Yes, sir, I plead guilty, although I've been told I ought not to confess.


A fresh, wholesome looking boy, was Tom Gates, with steady gray eyes, an intelligent forehead, but a sensitive, rather weak mouth.


He was of sturdy, athletic build and dressed neatly in a suit that was of coarse material but well brushed and cared for.


Kenneth decided that he was ill at ease and in a state of dogged self repression.


"We have heard something of your story," said Kenneth, "and are interested in it.


I had to stand by Lucy-she's so sweet and gentle, and so sensitive.


"no Old Will is a fine fellow, but poor and helpless since mrs Rogers had her accident."


"He was fairly prosperous before that, for mrs Rogers was an energetic and sensible woman, and kept old Will hard at work.


One morning she tried to light the fire with kerosene, and lost her sight.


Then Rogers wouldn't do anything but lead her around, and wait upon her, and the place went to rack and ruin."


"Lucy could have looked after her mother," said young Bates, "but old Will was stubborn and wouldn't let her.


He spoke simply, but paced up and down the narrow cell in front of them. It was evident that his feelings were deeper than he cared to make evident.


I was bookkeeper, so it was easy to get a blank check and forge the signature.


I discovered and put out a fire that would have destroyed the whole plant.


He only discharged the man who was responsible for the fire."


My crime is so serious that the circuit judge has to sit on the case."


I haven't heard from her since the day she came here to see me-right after my arrest."


It was better for him to think the girl unfeeling than to know the truth.


"I'm going to see mr Marshall," said Kenneth, "and discover what I can do to assist you."


It won't be much, but I'm grateful to find a friend. I'm guilty, you know, and there's no one to blame but myself."


It was a busy place, perhaps the busiest in the whole of the Eighth District, and in it were employed a large number of men.


The manager was in, Kenneth and Beth learned, but could not see them until he had signed the letters he had dictated for the noon mail.


He looked up rather ungraciously, but motioned them to be seated.


Forbes, of Elmhurst?" he asked, glancing at the card Kenneth had sent in.


"I've been bothered already over your election campaign," resumed the manager, arranging his papers in a bored manner.


You may as well understand, sir, that I stand for the Democratic candidate, and have no sympathy with your side."


"That doesn't interest me, especially, sir," answered Kenneth, smiling. "I'm not electioneering just now.


"He's a forger, mr Forbes; a deliberate criminal."


But he's very young, and his youth is largely responsible for his folly."


I'll pay twice sixty dollars for the delivery to me of the forged check, and the withdrawal of the prosecution."


If you send the boy to prison you will still suffer the loss of the money.


By compromising with me you can recover your loss and are paid for your annoyance."


Give me a check for a hundred and fifty, and I'll turn over to you the forged check and quash further proceedings."


He detested the grasping disposition that would endeavor to take advantage of his evident desire to help young Gates.


He also wrote a note to his lawyer directing him to withdraw the prosecution.


Kenneth and Beth went away quite happy with their success, and the manager stood in his little window and watched them depart.


There was a grim smile of amusement on his shrewd face.


"Of all the easy marks I ever encountered," muttered mr Marshall, "this young Forbes is the easiest.


He might have had that forged check for the face of it, if he'd been sharp. You wouldn't catch 'Rast Hopkins doing such a fool stunt.


And to think we can save all that misery and despair by the payment of a hundred and fifty dollars!


mr Hopkins had come to realize that he had "the fight of his life" on his hands, and that defeat meant his political ruin.


To himself he admitted their shrewdness and activity and acknowledged that an experienced head was managing their affairs.


This canvass was quite satisfactory, for final report showed only about a hundred majority for Forbes.


The Democratic Committee figured out a way to do this.


Monroe County, where both Forbes and Hopkins resided, was one of the Democratic strongholds of the State.


A man named Cummings was the Republican and Seth Reynolds, the liveryman, the Democratic nominee.


Under ordinary conditions Reynolds was sure to be elected, but the Committee proposed to sacrifice him in order to elect Hopkins.


This "trading votes," which was often done, was considered by the politicians quite legitimate.


The only thing necessary was to "fix" Seth Reynolds, and this Hopkins arranged personally.


The office of Sheriff would pay about two thousand a year, and this sum Hopkins agreed to pay the liveryman and so relieve him of all the annoyance of earning it.


mr Cummings, who was to profit by the deal, was called to a private consultation and agreed to slaughter Kenneth Forbes to secure votes for himself.


It was thought that this clever arrangement would easily win the fight for Hopkins.


But the Honorable Erastus had no intention of "taking chances," or "monkeying with fate," as he tersely expressed it.


Every scheme known to politicians must be worked, and none knew the intricate game better than Hopkins.


This was why he held several long conferences with his friend Marshall, the manager at the mill.


And this was why Kenneth and Beth discovered him conversing with the young woman in the buggy.


Patsy and Beth supported their cousin loyally and assisted in the preparations.


The Fairview band was engaged to discourse as much harmony as it could produce, and the resources of the great house were taxed to entertain the guests.


Tables were spread on the lawn and a dainty but substantial repast was to be served.


The day of the entertainment was as sunny and mild as heart could desire.


By ten o'clock the farm wagons began to drive up, loaded with women and children, for all were invited except the grown men.


The gardens and grounds were gaily decorated with Chinese and Japanese lanterns, streamers and Forbes banners.


A speakers' stand, profusely decorated, had been erected on the lawn, and hundreds of folding chairs provided for seats.


"We ought to have more attendants, Beth," said Louise, approaching her cousin.


"Won't you run into the house and see if Martha can't spare one or two more maids?"


I counted on Eliza Parsons, the new girl I hired for the linen room and to do mending; but Eliza said she had a headache this morning and couldn't stand the sun, So I let her off.


The girl entered, and gave an involuntary cry of surprise.


Standing before her was the young girl she had seen riding with mr Hopkins-the girl she had declared to be the missing daughter of mrs Rogers.


For a moment Beth stood staring, while the new maid regarded her with composure and a slight smile upon her beautiful face.


The maid raised her eyebrows with a gesture of genuine surprise.


I attend to the household mending, you know, and care for the linen.


For the first time the maid seemed a little confused, and her gaze wandered from the face of her visitor.


"Will you excuse my answering that question?" she asked.


She sat down in a rocking chair, and clasping her hands in her lap, rocked slowly back and forth.


They-they excite me, in some way, and I-I can't bear them.


She even seemed mildly amused at the attention she attracted.


Beth was a beautiful girl-the handsomest of the three cousins, by far; yet Eliza surpassed her in natural charm, and seemed well aware of the fact.


Her manner was neither independent nor assertive, but rather one of well bred composure and calm reliance.


Beth felt that she was intruding and knew that she ought to go; yet some fascination held her to the spot.


However her features and form might repress any evidence of nervousness, these hands told a different story.


The thin fingers clasped and unclasped in little spasmodic jerks and belied the quiet smile upon the face above them.


A sudden wave of scarlet swept over Eliza's face.


She rose quickly to her feet, with an impetuous gesture that made her visitor catch her breath.


"I will go," said Beth, a little frightened at the passionate appeal.


Eliza closed the door behind her with a decided slam, and a key clicked in the lock.


Believe me, it is not fatigue that saddens you to night."


"Yes, you are right; but I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham."


"What I said to him, count," replied Raoul, "I will repeat to you. Listen to me.


The count advanced a step towards his friend, and pressed him warmly in his arms.


These two cherubic infants had both big brown eyes, fat red cheeks, and adorable, fluffy golden curls.


"I thought we were 'stumped' again when I first saw that picture, but it's been of some use, after all.


But let's go and finish our studying now, and get that out of the way.


First they took turns sweeping, as best they could, with a very ancient and frowsy broom, the thick, moth eaten carpet.


I wonder, though, if people could see the light from the street, through any chinks in the boarding?"


I just touched something soft!" On the instant, Joyce was at her side with the candle.


"'tuesday april sixteenth eighteen sixty one.'"


It did not beckon, or indeed move at all; it was as still as the hand of death.


Gradually I knew I was mastering him-then all was blank.


"Have we been together?" "That's his knife, at any rate.


Here is his scarf, which has evidently been strained, and on it are spots of blood, while all around are marks indicating a struggle.


I say you do know what this means, and you must tell us."


Undoubtedly the Egyptian knew too much for Voltaire, and so I was made a tool whereby he could be freed from troublesome obstacles.


Government by Manoeuvring and Artifice.


In respect to her statement that she was going to the doctor's, it may, or may not, have been true.


The theory of many mothers is that they must govern their children by the influence of reason and affection.


"Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this afternoon, and I am going to explain it all to you why you can not go too.


Then I shall love you, and your papa will love you, and after I get well we will take you to ride with us some day."


By the third method the mother secures the compliance of the child by a direct exercise of authority.


"Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this afternoon, and I am sorry, for your sake, that we can not take you with us."


"I can not tell you why, now," replies the mother, "but perhaps I will explain it to you after I come home.


Then, if she observes any expression of discontent or insubmission in Mary's countenance, the mother would add,


And a child who never, from the beginning, finds any efficiency in them, never learns to employ them at all.


Now Delia contrived to obtain a great influence and ascendency over the minds of the children by means of these dolls.


"How do you do, my children?" she said, on one such occasion.


You have come, Andella (Andella was the name of Jane's doll), to make Rosalie a visit.


You will have a very pleasant time, I am sure; because you never quarrel.


Then, turning to Jane, she asked, in a somewhat altered tone, "Has she been a good girl, Jane?"


"Ah!" said Della in a tone of great concern, and looking again at Andella, "I heard that you had been sick.


Nothing more was necessary except to shake up the mixture in order to facilitate the process of solution, and the medicine was ready.


Delia was accustomed to use the dolls not only for the purpose of instruction, but sometimes for reproof, in many ingenious ways.


They were now playing with their dolls in the parlor.


There is a secret-something I would not have them know on any account."


So saying, she led the way on tiptoe, followed by the children out of the room, and round by a circuitous route to the piazza.


"There!" said she, pointing to the playthings; "see! all your playthings left out!


Put them away quick before Andella and Rosalie see them.


I would not have them know that their mothers leave their playthings about in that way for any consideration.


They would think that they might do so too, and that would make you a great deal of trouble.


Put these playthings all away quick, and carefully, and we will not let them know any thing about your leaving them out."


So the children went to work with great alacrity, and put the playthings all away.


Besides, a scolding would have made them unhappy, and this did not make them unhappy at all; it amused and entertained them.


If you can lead children to cure themselves of their faults in such a way that they shall have a good time in doing it, there is a double gain.


They are chiefly formed from combinations of the impressions made in childhood.


Once upon a time there was a little boy, called Anders, who had a new cap.


And a prettier cap you never could see, for mother herself had knitted it, and nobody could make anything quite as nice as mother could.


His brothers and sisters walked about squinting at him, and their faces grew long with envy.


He put his hands in his trousers pockets and went out for a walk, for he did not begrudge anybody's seeing how fine he was.


The first person he met was a farm labourer walking alongside a load of peat and smacking at his horse.


At the turn of the road he ran up against the tanner's boy, Lars.


"Let's swap caps," he said, "and I will give you my jack knife to boot."


She called him a little gentleman and said that he was so fine that he might go to the royal court ball.


"Seeing that I am so fine, I may as well go and visit the King."


"I am going to the court ball," answered Anders.


"Indeed you are not," said the other soldier, and put his foot forward.


But just at this instant the Princess came tripping across the yard. She was dressed in white silk with bows of ribbon.


When she became aware of Anders and the soldiers, she walked over to them.


"Oh," she said, "he has such an extraordinarily fine cap on his head, that that will do just as well as a uniform."


For, like as not, they must have thought him a prince when they saw his fine cap.


At the farther end of the largest hall a table was set with golden cups and golden plates in long rows.


On huge silver platters were pyramids of tarts and cakes, and red wine sparkled in glittering decanters.


The Princess sat down under a blue canopy with bouquets of roses; and she let Anders sit in a golden chair by her side.


"But you must not eat with your cap on your head," she said, and was going to take it off.


"Well, well, give it to me," said the Princess, "and I will give you a kiss."


Then the doors were thrown open, and the King entered with a large suite of gentlemen in glittering uniforms and plumed hats.


"That is a very fine cap you have," he said.


"And it is made of mother's best yarn, and she knitted it herself, and everybody wants to get it away from me."


"But surely you would like to change caps with me," said the King, and raised his large, heavy gold crown from his head.


He sat as before, and held on to his red cap which everybody was so anxious to get.


He darted like an arrow through all the halls, down all the stairs, and across the yard.


He twisted himself like an eel between the outstretched arms of the courtiers, and over the soldiers' muskets he jumped like a little rabbit.


He ran so fast that the Princess's necklace fell off his neck, and all the cakes jumped out of his pockets.


But he had his cap. He still held on to it with both hands as he rushed into his mother's cottage.


And his mother took him up in her lap, and he told her all his adventures, and how everybody wanted his cap.


And all his brothers and sisters stood round and listened with their mouths open.


But when his big brother heard that he had refused to give his cap for a King's golden crown, he said that Anders was a stupid.


"If you dressed in silk and gold from top to toe, you could not look any nicer than in your little red cap."


He knew well enough that mother's cap was the best cap in all the world.


As for the ballet itself, every person knew the part he had to take in it, and how to perform it.


"Certainly, sire; but I must have money to do that."


"Well, sire, the colored lamps, the fireworks, the musicians, and the cooks, have swallowed up four millions in eight days."


He has given them with too much grace not to have others still to give, if they are required, which is the case at the present moment.


"And yet," he said, "your majesty did not use this language some time ago, when the news about Belle Isle arrived, for instance."


"Nothing, however, has changed since then; on the contrary, indeed."


"In my thoughts, monsieur, everything has changed."


"My affairs concern myself alone, monsieur; and I have already told you I transact them without interference."


"Then, I perceive," said Colbert, trembling with anger and fear, "that I have had the misfortune to fall into disgrace with your majesty."


"Not at all; you are, on the contrary, most agreeable to me."


"I reserve your services for a better occasion; and believe me, they will only be the better appreciated."


"You will take them from my private treasure." Colbert bowed.


The news circulated with the rapidity of lightning; during its progress it kindled every variety of coquetry, desire, and wild ambition.


The queens had taken their seats upon a magnificent dias or platform, erected upon the borders of the lake, in a theater of wonderful elegance of construction.


Suddenly, for the purpose of restoring peace and order, Spring, accompanied by his whole court, made his appearance.


The Elements, subaltern powers of mythology, together with their attributes, hastened to follow their gracious sovereign.


The music, hautboys, flutes, and viols, was delightfully descriptive of rural delights.


He was dressed in a tunic of flowers, which set off his graceful and well formed figure to advantage.


The most beautiful pale lilac satin shoes, with bows of flowers and leaves, imprisoned his small feet.


His entrance produced, therefore, the most brilliant effect.


The applause continued so long that the comte had ample leisure to join the king.


"Nothing whatever," replied the courtier, as pale as death; "but your majesty has not thought of Fruits."


"Far from it, sire; your majesty having given no directions about it, the musicians have retained it."


"Here?" replied the king, frowning, "here?


The king felt himself color deeply, and said, "You are probably mistaken."


"So little is that the case, sire, that if your majesty will look to the right, you will see that the comte is in waiting."


Every word fell distinctly, in perfect harmony and eloquence, upon Louis the fourteenth's ears.


Their flattery pleased, as much as De Guiche's courage had astonished him, and he simply replied: "I did not tell you to return, comte."


"Certainly not, sire; but your majesty did not tell me to remain."


Besides, the king's heart was filled with two or three new ideas; he had just derived fresh inspiration from the eloquent glances of Madame.


Monsieur was the only one who did not understand anything about the matter.


The ballet began; the effect was more than beautiful.


Disdainful of a success of which Madame showed no acknowledgement, he thought of nothing but boldly regaining the marked preference of the princess.


She, however, did not bestow a single glance upon him.


The king, who had from this moment become in reality the principal dancer in the quadrille, cast a look upon his vanquished rival.


The king remained for a moment to enjoy a triumph as complete as it could possibly be.


He then turned towards Madame, for the purpose of admiring her also a little in her turn.


All these sufferings, successes, and remarks were blended, confounded, and lost in the uproar of applause.


De Guiche, observing that she was alone, near a thicket constructed of painted cloth, approached her.


Upon this Madame deigned to turn her eyes languishingly towards the comte, observing.


"Yes; the character which your royal highness assumed is in perfect harmony with your own."


"You represented a divinity, beautiful, disdainful, inconstant."


She then rose, humming the air to which she was presently going to dance.


The arrow pierced his heart and wounded him mortally.


As De Guiche quitted the theater for the purpose of getting into the fresh air he so much needed, he passed close to this figure and saluted her.


When she perceived the young man, she rose, like a woman surprised in the midst of ideas she was desirous of concealing from herself.


"Pray do not leave me," said De Guiche, stretching out his hand towards her, "for you would be contradicting the kind words you have just pronounced.


Remain, I implore you: the evening is most lovely.


You wish to escape from the merry tumult, and prefer your own society.


It is to your recommendation, I am aware, that I owe my admission among the number of Madame's maids of honor."


"Forgive me, I hardly know what I am saying; a thousand times forgive me; Madame was right, quite right, this brutal exile has completely turned my brain."


"And yet it seemed to me that the king received you with kindness."


Received me with kindness-perhaps so-yes-"


"There cannot be a doubt he received you kindly, for, in fact, you returned without his permission."


"In that case I am indeed unhappy, and greatly to be pitied."


"Yes, very unhappy, and very much to be pitied, Monsieur de Guiche, for you seem to be suffering terribly."


"Oh! mademoiselle, why have I not a devoted sister, or a true friend, such as yourself?"


His dark shadow glided, lengthening as it disappeared, among the illumined yews and glittering undulations of the water.


"In other words," said Montalais, "she is insupportable.


"I am a woman; and there are few like me; whoever loves me, flatters me; whoever flatters me, pleases me; and whoever pleases-"


"And you, Louise?" said Montalais, "does any one please you?"


We are three in number, we like one another, and the night is lovely.


Look yonder, do you not see the moon slowly rising, silvering the topmost branches of the chestnuts and the oaks.


As for ourselves, we shall soon reach some retired spot where no eyes can see us and no step follow ours.


"Quick, quick, then, among the high reed grass," said Montalais; "stoop, Athenais, you are so tall."


The young girls had, indeed, made themselves small-indeed invisible.


The two young men approached still closer, conversing in animated tones. "She was here just now," said the count.


"If I had only seen her, I should have declared it to be a vision, but I spoke to her."


I was still half crazy at you know what; so that she could hardly have understood what I was saying, and must have grown alarmed."


"Yes, but if she should have understood, and understood too well, she may talk."


"Good gracious! has the king any right to interfere in matters of that kind?


I am speaking seriously," replied Montalais, "and my opinion in this case is quite as good as the king's, I suppose; is it not, Louise?"


"Come," said La Valliere, "these gentlemen have passed; let us take advantage of our being alone to cross the open ground and so take refuge in the woods."


"So much the better," said Athenais, "because I see the torches setting out from the chateau and the theater, and they seem as if they were preceding some person of distinction."


The three young girls, on their side, reached the outskirts of the park, every path of which they well knew.


The ditches were bordered by high hedges full of flowers, which on that side protected the foot passengers from being intruded upon by the horses and carriages.


Near the songster, in the dark background of the large trees, could be seen the glistening eyes of an owl, attracted by the harmony.


Beneath this oak the gardeners had piled up the moss and turf in such a manner that never had a seat more luxuriously rested the wearied limbs of man or monarch.


He was too imposing in appearance, too gorgeous in apparel, too bold and vigilant in demeanor to be so misunderstood.


Moreover, he was not in the situation or the surroundings which one is wont to associate with ducks.


In fact, after the fashion of a cormorant or a kingfisher, he was perched motionless on a big dead stub of a branch.


This branch was thrust out very obligingly in just the place where this most singular of ducks would have desired it if it had been consulted in the matter.


It directly overhung a transparent amber brown chute of unbroken water in the midst of the loud turmoil of North Fork Rapids.


The duck was a handsome male of the red breasted merganser family, and the absorbing interest of his life was fish.


It was not in the quiet pools and long, deep reaches of dark water that he loved to seek his prey, but rather to snatch it from the grasp of the loud chutes and the roaring rips.


Here, where the North Fork stream fell into the Ottanoonsis, was a resort exactly to his liking.


For all the splendor of his plumage, the merganser was not conspicuous where he sat


His feet were red, his long narrow beak, with its saw toothed edges and sharp hooked tip, was bright red.


In every line and hue he was unmistakably an aristocrat among ducks, and an arrogant one at that.


But here he was at a terrible disadvantage as compared with the owls, hawks, and eagles.


Had he taken such a prize, he could not have profited by it, having no means of tearing it to pieces.


But suddenly, straight and swift as a diving cormorant, he shot down into the torrent and disappeared beneath the surface.


Here he proceeded to swallow his prize head first.


Just about this time, in the clear blue overhead, a green winged teal was beating his way above the treetops, making for the stream with the fear of death at his heart.


But behind him, overtaking him inexorably, came the shape that stood for doom itself in the eyes of all his tribe-the dreadful blue falcon, or duck hawk.


For all its appalling speed, the sound of his flight was nothing more than a strong pulsating hiss.


Close ahead of him now the teal saw refuge-the flashing line of the rapids.


In despair he hurled himself downward too soon.


It was enough, however, and the unhappy teal was hurled earthward, flapping through the tips of the branches.


The great hawk followed hurriedly, to retrieve his prey from the ground.


As it chanced, however, the victim came down with a thud almost beneath the whiskered nose of the wildcat.


A pounce, and the great cat had her paw upon it, and crouched snarling up at the hawk.


But wisdom came to him just in time, and he did not strike home.


The cat growled softly, picked up the prize in her jaws and trotted into the bushes to devour it.


In fact, he had just finished it-the last of the trout's tail had just vanished with a spasm down his strained gullet-when the baffled hawk caught sight of him and swooped.


Happily for him, he on his part caught sight of the hawk, and dropped like lead into the torrent.


The hawk alighted on the dead branch, and sat upright, motionless, as if surprised.


The fisher of the chutes, meanwhile, was swimming straight downstream for the broken water.


The hawk sat upon the branch and watched his quarry swimming beneath the surface.


With only head and wings above the mad smother, he flapped onward frantically, beating down the foam about him.


Straightway the hawk glided from his perch and darted after him.


As long as his body was completely submerged, it was at the mercy of the twisting and tortured currents, which rolled him over and over, in spite of his swimming craft.


He would have been drowned, the breath battered clean out of him, in half a minute more, had he maintained the hopelessly unequal struggle.


Once more he half emerged, filled his gasping lungs, and pounded onward desperately, half flying and half swimming.


It was a mongrel method of progression, in which he was singularly expert.


Immediately over his outstretched gleaming head flew the hawk.


Where the waves for an instant sank, they came closer,--but not quite within grasping reach.


The marauder from the upper air was waiting till his quarry should reach less turbulent waters.


A few yards further on, the torrent fell seething over a long ledge into a pool of brief quiet.


Immediately beyond the lip of the ledge the hawk lifted his wings high over his back and struck downward, so that his talons went deep into the water.


The wily drake had plunged with the plunge of the fall itself, and was now darting onward at a safe depth.


The hawk followed, his wing tips now almost brushing the water.


The odds, however, were now laid heavily against the fugitive.


The hawk, embittered by the loss of his first quarry, had become as dogged in pursuit as a weasel, not to be shaken off or evaded or deceived.


He had three flies on his cast, and, because in these waters there was always the chance of hooking a grilse, he was using heavy tackle.


Just as he made his cast, he saw the fleeing drake and the pursuing hawk come round the bend.


He saw the frantic fugitive dive over the ledge and disappear.


The last drop fly, as luck would have it, caught just in the corner of the hawk's angrily open beak, hooking itself firmly.


At the sudden sharp sting of it, the great bird turned his head and noticed, for the first time, the fisherman standing on the bank.


At the same moment he felt the light restraint of the almost invisible leader upon his wings, where the other two flies had affixed themselves.


The drag upon his beak and the light check upon his wings were inexplicable to him, and appalling.


For a moment the fisherman, bewildered, tried to play him like a salmon.


The fisherman reeled in the limp coils, and the worried hawk flew off with the flies.


The drake, unrealizing that the dreadful chase was done, sped onward beneath the surface till he could go without breath no longer.


Then he came up among some arrowweeds, lifted his head beneath the shelter of one of the broad barbed leaves, and floated there quivering.


He dived and caught it, came to the surface and swallowed it. Much refreshed, he looked about him.


The drake was suspicious of men, though he did not greatly fear them, as he and his rank fleshed tribe were not interesting to the hunters.


He rose noisily into the air, made a detour over the tree tops to avoid the fisherman, and flew back to his dead branch overhanging the amber rush of the chutes.


The successful playwright is indeed a man to be envied. Leaving aside for the moment the question of super tax, the prizes which fall to his lot are worth something of an effort.


In short he becomes a "prominent figure in London Society"--and, if he is not careful, somebody will say so.


But even the unsuccessful dramatist has his moments.


It was an unsatisfying life; and when rash acquaintances asked him what he did, he used to say that he was for the Bar.


The only thing is, I don't know anything about technique and stagecraft and the three unities and that sort of rot.


Can you give me a few hints?"--suppose you spoke to me like this, then I could do something for you.


"My dear Sir," I should reply (or Madam), "you have come to the right shop.


Lend me your ear for ten minutes, and you shall learn just what stagecraft is." And I should begin with a short homily on


These few remarks are called a soliloquy, being addressed rather to the world in general than to any particular person on the stage.


Of course, a really good actor can often give a clue to the feelings of a character simply by facial expression.


Well, there are more ways than one; and now we come to what is meant by stagecraft.


And so on, till you get to the end, when Ophelia might say, "Ah, yes," or something non committal of that sort.


This would be an easy way of doing it, but it would not be the best way, for the reason that it is too easy to call attention to itself.


What you want is to make it clear that you are conveying Hamlet's thoughts to the audience in rather a clever manner.


Let us, to give an example of how this method works, go back again to the play we have been discussing.


To be or not to be, that is the question; whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows-What? No, Hamlet speaking.


To be or not to be, that is the question; whether 'tis nobler-


You will see this for yourself if you consider the passage as it should properly have been written:--


You will, of course, appreciate that the unfinished sentences not only save time, but also make the manoeuvring very much more natural.


The answer to this will depend upon the length of the play, for upon the length depends the hour at which the curtain rises.


Then the curtain rises, and it is apparent that we are assisting at an At Home of considerable splendour.


Most of the characters seem to be on the stage, and for once we do not ask how they got there.


You will never be a dramatist until you have learnt the technique of


A stage meal is popular, because it proves to the audience that the actors, even when called Charles Hawtrey or Owen Nares, are real people just like you and me.


Let your actors have tea by all means, but see that it is a properly histrionic tea.


Tea is the most usual meal on the stage, for the reason that it is the least expensive, the property lump of sugar being dusted and used again on the next night.


The etiquette is to have two bites before the butler and the three footmen whisk away the plate.


Besides, the thing is coming back again as chicken directly.


But it is the cigarette which chiefly has brought the modern drama to its present state of perfection.


Let us assume that Lord Arthur asks Lord john what a cynic is-the question of what a cynic is having arisen quite naturally in the course of the plot.


Let us assume further that you wish Lord john to reply, "A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing."


It has been said before, but you may feel that it is quite time it was said again; besides, for all the audience knows, Lord john may simply be quoting.


Now this answer, even if it comes quite fresh to the stalls, will lose much of its effect if it is said without the assistance of a cigarette.


The bogus Legislature numbered thirty six members.


This was at the March election, eighteen fifty five.


That summer's emigration, however, being mainly from the free States, greatly changed the relative strength of the two parties.


This was a formidable array of advantages; slavery was playing with loaded dice.


With such a radical opposition of sentiment, both factions were on the alert to seize every available vantage ground.


Opportunely for them, about this time Governor Shannon, appointed to succeed Reeder, arrived in the Territory.


Faithful to their legislative declaration they knew but one issue, slavery.


Of the lynchings, the mobs, and the murders, it would be impossible, except in a very extended work, to note the frequent and atrocious details.


A Border Ruffian foray against the town was hastily organized.


The United States Arsenal at Liberty, Missouri, was broken into and stripped of its contents to supply cannon, small arms, and ammunition.


They were not only well armed and supplied, but wrought up to the highest pitch of partisan excitement.


While the Governor's proclamation spoke of serving writs, the notices of the conspirators sounded the note of the real contest.


"Now is the time to show game, and if we are defeated this time, the Territory is lost to the South," said the leaders.


Governor Robinson and Colonel Lane were appointed to command.


The people of Lawrence, without any great difficulty, obtained daily information concerning the hostile camps.


Sheriff Jones made several visits unmolested on their part, and without any display of writs or demand for the surrender of alleged offenders on his own.


They could see that a conflict meant serious results.


With the advantage of its defensive position, Lawrence was as strong as the sheriff's mob.


On one point especially the Border Ruffians had a wholesome dread.


Yankee ingenuity had invented a new kind of breech loading gun called "Sharps rifle." It was, in fact, the best weapon of its day.


The Missouri backwoods men manifested an almost incredible interest in this wonderful gun.


Meanwhile a sober second thought had come to Governor Shannon.


The firm defensive attitude of the people of Lawrence had produced its effect.


The leaders of the conspiracy became distrustful of their power to crush the town.


In the Missouri camp while the leaders became alarmed the men grew insubordinate.


The forces of the Lecompton camp fully understand the plot and will fight under the same banner."


He hastened to Lawrence, which now invoked his protection.


Neither party was willing to yield honestly nor ready to fight manfully.


The free State men shrank from forcible resistance to even bogus laws.


The Missouri cabal, on the other hand, having three of their best men constantly at the Governor's side, were compelled to recognize their lack of justification.


They consented to a compromise "to cover a retreat."


The truce patched up by this Lawrence treaty was of comparatively short duration.


During and after the contest over the speakership at Washington, each State Legislature became a forum of Kansas debate.


The vague and double meaning phrases of the Lawrence agreement furnished the earliest causes of a renewal of the quarrel.


"We may have said that we would assist any proper officer in the service of any legal process," they replied, standing upon their interpretation.


This was, of course, the original controversy-slavery burning to enforce her usurpation, freedom determined to defend her birthright.


The people of Lawrence denounced the deed; but the sheriff hoarded up the score for future revenge.


One additional incident served to precipitate the crisis.


To embarrass this damaging exposure, Judge Lecompte issued a writ against the ex Governor on a frivolous charge of contempt.


No posse was summoned, no further effort made, and Reeder, fearing personal violence, soon fled in disguise.


But the affair was magnified as a crowning proof that the free State men were insurrectionists and outlaws.


Their distinctive characters, however, display one broad and unfailing difference.


The free State men clung to their prairie towns and prairie ravines with all the obstinacy and courage of true defenders of their homes and firesides.


Their assumed character changed with their changing opportunities or necessities.


A propitious moment for carrying it out seemed now to have arrived.


Ten days were consumed in these negotiations; but the spirit of vengeance refused to yield.


He continued his pretended search and, to give color to his errand, made two arrests.


The marshal and his posse, including Sheriff Jones, went among other invited guests and enjoyed the proffered hospitality.


The military force, partly rabble, partly organized, had meanwhile moved into the town.


Atchison, who had been haranguing the mob, planted his two guns before the building and trained them upon it.


The inmates being removed, at the appointed hour a few cannon balls were fired through the stone walls.


[Relocated Footnote: Governor Robinson being on his way East, the steamboat on which he was traveling stopped at Lexington, Missouri.


He rode before a portmanteau, and called himself Ashburnham's servant.


They informed the English parliament of this unexpected incident, and assured them that they had entered into no private treaty with the king.


He was particularly attentive to the behavior of their preachers, on whom all depended.


Another preacher, after reproaching him to his face with his misgovernment, ordered this psalm to be sung:--


"Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself, Thy wicked deeds to praise?"


The Scottish generals would enter into no confidence with him; and still treated him with distant ceremony and feigned respect.


The marquis of Worcester, a man past eighty four, was the last in England that submitted to the authority of the parliament.


He defended Raglan Castle to extremity; and opened not its gates till the middle of August.


The parliament and the Scots laid their proposals before the king.


They were such as a captive, entirely at mercy, could expect from the most inexorable victor.


Yet were they little worse than what were insisted on before the battle of Naseby.


What the parliament was most intent upon, was not their treaty with the king, to whom they paid little regard, but that with the Scots.


Two important points remained to be settled with that nation: their delivery of the king, and the estimation of their arrears.


On his journey, the whole country flocked to behold him, moved partly by curiosity, partly by compassion and affection.


His death, in this conjuncture, was a public misfortune.


Memory, which we are to consider to day, introduces us to knowledge in one of its forms.


The analysis of knowledge will occupy us until the end of the thirteenth lecture, and is the most difficult part of our whole enterprise.


Sensation, we decided, is not a form of knowledge.


The non sensational elements in perception can be wholly explained as the result of habit, produced by frequent correlations.


How, then, are we to find any way of comparing the present image and the past sensation?


To deal with this problem, we must have a theory of memory.


In this way the whole status of images as "copies" is bound up with the analysis of memory.


In the first place, everything constituting a memory belief is happening now, not in that past time to which the belief is said to refer.


It is not logically necessary to the existence of a memory belief that the event remembered should have occurred, or even that the past should have existed at all.


I am not suggesting that the non existence of the past should be entertained as a serious hypothesis.


Like all sceptical hypotheses, it is logically tenable, but uninteresting.


All that I am doing is to use its logical tenability as a help in the analysis of what occurs when we remember.


In the second place, images without beliefs are insufficient to constitute memory; and habits are still more insufficient.