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Flesherton Advance, 20 Sep 1894, p. 6

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LOVE REASONS NOT. Ho could not recover himsslf o to ipcuk. He looked at her in bleak, wordleM amaze- meat. CHAPTER VIII. THE I'KorifkVY. "A very impatient young man," said the Rood old vicar. " No man in hi. SSDSSI yourself, that, no matter" what, 1 lid, 1 would want to be married before ten in the loved yon." morning. I call it unchristian." I "No matter what you did you lovsd me," Good old Mr. Barnes had been roused jj^lf* 1 "* 1 '"** 1 iha " from his early slumbers by the announce- , Sn , kj^ed the toil worn faoe.leaving him rnent that tbe young man had come to be so entirely bewildered that iDe only fear married. I was lest hs should ut up all night trying t j Mamsd. while the early morning s.n , fo ^.D* D . went n . r roo(J)i bnt not was shining, and the birds singing their slaep-her heart beat, every pulse thrilled, morning hymn. | This wa* to be the last night in her old He was almoit blind, thi. good old vicar, | home -the last of her .girlish life ; to- who bad lived to long at Ohelon. Hs was very deaf, and could har.ii;- bear, but then her heart and soul. he did not require very keen sight or hear- ! The bird* woke her with mg at Ohetoo ; there was never more thsn on* marriage in a year, and funeral, were very rare ; but to be called before nine in tbe morning to perform the marriage cere- ths grand chain of bills, and in Ike far .In- 1 "I have dinner ready, my lord," the said, taooe tbe blue water, of tbe Channel. | "Lord Cnandoe told me yon were coming." He looked round xper.tantly. " 1. not Lord Chandoa hre ' " be aiked. It occurred to him that the housekeeper looked troubled and distressed. 1 No," the replied, " he There could not have been a more beau tiful or picturesque spot on earth than Oawdor. It had belonged to tbe Lanawsll family tor many generations. T.ie Lane- wells were a wealthy race they owned not only all tbe land surrounding tbe fair morrow she would be Lady Cnandoa wife of the young iover whom ebe loved with all their song, it was their wedding-day. She would not see Robert Noel again; be took hie break- fast before six and went off to the fields a- gain. She bad but to dress herself and mony was something unheard of. He bad July announced the ban., and no one bad | taken the least notice of them ; but to come so early, it was poiliv*ly cruel. others bad risen early that morning. Leone bad not slept well, for this July morning, which was to bring such mingled joy and sorrow to others, was diy of deepest emotion to ner. Her love-dream waa to be re.li/ed. She was to marry tbe ardent young lover who swore that he wonld not live without ber. She bad thought more of her lovs than of tbs wordly advantages it would bring ber. She bad not thought much of those until tbsy stood, on the evening bsfors tbeir wedding -day, once more by the mill- stream. It was bright moonlight, for ths smiling summsr day was dead. It was tnoir farswell to the beautiful spot they both loved. " I am so glad," said Lord Cnendos, ' that we can say good-bye to it by the light of the moon. I wonder, Leone, when we shall see the mil Lett earn again ? I havs a fancy that the pretty water has helped me in my wooing." As they sat there tbe wind rose and stri- red the branches of the alder-tree.. In some way the great wavy masses of dark hair became unfastened, and fell like a thick soft veil over Leone's shoulders. Lord Chandos touched it caressingly with bis hand. " What beautiful hair. Leone-how thick and soft ; bow beautiful those w*vy lines are what makes them !" " A tnrn of Dame Nature's finger.," she replied, laughingly. " I should like to see diamond, .timing in these coilsof hair," hesaid. "Leone one of tbe first things we must do to-morrow when we reach London, is to bjy a very band- some traveling-drees. 1 have written to- day to my father to ask him to meet u. at Dunmore House." She repeated tbe words. ' Where is Dinmore House?" .he asked. I forgot," he aaid, "that all place, so familiar to me are strange to you. One of ' is Baron Dnnmore, and go to ths station. Ohetcn was torn* three mile, from tbe ktation, but on a lummer'. morning that was a trifle. They were aii three there at last Sir Fi an k looking decidedly vexed and cross. Lord Chandoi happy as tbe day was long, and Laune beautiful as a picture. "Look," said the young lordling to his friend, "have 1 nu sxcuaar" Si.- Frank looked long and earnestly at the beautiful southern face. "Yes," he replied; so far as beauty and grace can form an excuse, you have one; but. Lance, if I loved that girl a thousand times bstter than my lifs, I should not marry her. " "Wbyr' asked Lord Chandos, with a laugh. "Because she has a tragedy in her life. She oould not be happy. She will neither have a happy life nor a happy death. "My dear Frank, do not prophesy such evil en our wedding-day." ''1 do not mean to prophesy, I say what I think; it is a beautiful face, full of poetry and passion, but it is also full of power and unrest " "Yon shall not look at her again if yoa say such things," cried Lord Chandoa, And then the good vicar, still distressed at being aroused so early, came to tbe church. Had it been lets pitiful and pa- thstic, it would have been most comical, domain of Cawdor, but nearly the whole of the town of Dunmore. The Earl of Lans- w-ll was slso Karon of Kaleigb.end Raleigh Hall, in Staffordshire, was a very grand estate. In one part of it an immense coal mine bad been dUoovered, which made Lord Lanswsll one of the wealthiest men of the day. Cawdor, Raleigh Hall, and Don more Hoase, three of the finest residences in Kngland, together with a rent-roll counted by hundred, of thou- sands, should have made tbe earl a happy man. He married a wealthy heiress in ac- cordance with the old proverb that "Like here they are staying is not .laying in the (Jut en's Hotel, in Piccadilly. " Tbey," be cried, " whom do yon mean by they ! Has Lord Chandos friends with him The an's face grew pal* She shrunk perceptibly from tbe keen, gray - T eeks like." His wife, Lucia, Countess of ' Lance.* 1 ye_. " I understood bis lordship that be was not alone," she replied. " I may have made a mistake. 1 understood him also that he should be with you by eight thi. evening, when you had finished dinner." " Why could he not dine with me '" he thought. "Sendee telegram forme, and then leaves me to dine alone. It is not liks CAUSE OP EXTRAVAGANCE. Tfeowaaaos or r>s>lf Hose Their lmrmmr. The chief cause of extravagance is vanity the desire to keep op appearanoes, to gain wbst is regarded as social position. Unfortunately, social rank has with ue become largely a matter of expenditure. ' It mu*t be purchased like anything eUa. Tbe price differ* with tbe social caste, but the maintenance of the the cUas on* seeks to is called Uunmore my father's title* his London residence House. We khall meet him there to-mor- row, and then you will be my wife," For the first time shs realiiod whst an unease difference there wa* in thsir positions. Sbs glanced at him in .udden "Lance," she aaid. " shall I stem very much out of place in your home.and amooa your friends?" "My darlmg.you would grace any home," 'replied; "mine has had no fairer mis- tress in all ths generation, it has .toed," "I am half frightensd," ibs said gent- "You need not be. swsst. Brfor* this time next year all London will know and admire the beautiful Lady Cuandoe." "It seems a long leap to take m life," she said, "fr >m being Farmer Noel's me.-e U. bear the name of Lady Chandos." "You will grace the name, Leone," he replied "J .ball be the proudest man in / ' "** ln * mo t ntiful wifs in England. This is our Isst Npara- tlon. our last parting; after this, ws nsed nsvsr part." He stooped down and caught some of tbe running water in his hand. "A libation," he said, as he poured it back again. -I foal as though I were the number of times the old vicar dropped his book, forgot tl.s names, the appalling mistakes bemad*, tbe nervous hesitation of his manner. Sometime. Lord Chaodos felt inclined to say hard, hot words; again be could not repress a smils. But at length, after trembling and hesilating, the vicar gave the final benediction and pro- nounced them man and wife. In tbe vestry, when the name* were signed, some ray of light seemed to dawn on the old vicar. 'Chandos," he said, "that is not a common name about here." " I. it not ?" said the young lord ; " i seem, common enough to me. " "Chandoe," repeated the minister " where have I heard that name '" " I have hoard it so often that I am tire. of it," said the young husband. And then it was all over. "Thank God to be out in the sunlight, he cried, as be stood, with hie beautifu wife, in the churchyard. " Thank Uod Lanswell, was one of ths proudest, peereese. in England ; she was unimpeachable in ev- ery relation of life, and had little pity for tboee who were not ; she had never known sorrow, temptation, doubt, or anything else ; .he bad lived m an atmosphere of perfect content and golden ease ; she bad the grandest mansion, ths finest diamonds, thenneet horses in London ; .he had ths most indulfsnt husband, ths handsomest son and the prettieet daughter; she did not know the word want in any shape, she bad not even suffered from the crumpled rose-leaf. The nearest approach to trouble of any kind that she had known was that ber >u. Lord Cbandoe, bad failed in one of hi examinations. He asked that he might g into the country for some months to read and permission was most cheerfully given to him. With her daughter. Lady Imo- gene Cbandos, the countess bad never had and never expected to have any trouble she was one of tbe fairest, sweetest, and most gentle of girls; she was docile aac obedient; shs bad never in ber life given the leaet trouble to any one. Lord Lanswell waa walking up and down one of tbe broad terraces at Cawdor ons tine morning in July, whsn one of the servants brought to him a telegram. He opened it hastily, it was from his son, LordChaodo. " DCAHEST FATHER, Will yon run up to town, and meet me at Dnnmore House this is all over, and I can call my love my wife I thought that .ervioa would never end Frank, have you no good wishes for my wife?" Sir Frnk went to Leone. 'I wish you joy." he said ; " I wish you 1 hannin**i >, r " all happine but- -- And than he played nervously with the hat he held in his hand. " But," she said with a bright smile " you do not think I shall get it ?" Sir Frank made no answer ; he did not tblnk she would be happy, but she bad chosen her own way ; be had said all hs could. Perhaps his eyes were clearer than other., for he oould read a tragedy in her face. Then Sir Frank left them, having nod his part with a very ill grace. " Lsone, have you said good bye to your nnoler asked Lord Chandos. I Isft a littlsnote to be given him whan he returns horns this evening. How he will miss me.'' " And how fortunate I am to have yon, my darling ; there is no one in the wide world so "happy. We will drive over to Kaihleigh Station. I do not who Dr. when I Isavs the mill- losing a friend stream." Lovin, and loved, no thought came to them there of bow tbey should ses tbe mill-stream again. "Loone, Lady Chandos." More thai. >nce that evening she said those words la nersslf. It was after eight when .he came in, and the farmer had long finished his "PP"! bs sat thinking over hi. "sit down and rest." was i- talk to me before I go to i. .^'w tl/ B0 " h . >>' down while b* told bar the history of his visits to tbs different market*. She heard, but lidnot tekem the sense of one singl. word he uttered. She was laying to nersslf ovsr and ovsr again, that by thu tims to- morrow shs should be Lady Chandee. Her happiness would havs been complete if she could have told her nncle. He h.,1 been r k. .i 1 ? I 1 * 1 "' Th *' wtre PPi as light and darkness, thsy had not ons idsa in common, yet he barf been good to her and she loved him. She longed to tell sees me now, no one oan part us. m. Hervey thinks I wsnt horns to London this morning, but I won a wife before starting, <ld I not, Leone, my beautiful love You are Lady Cbandos now. What are you thinking of, my darling?" "I was wondering. Lance, if there ws anything in our maniage that conlJ poss bly invalidate it and make it illegal '" " No," he replied, "I have boon too care fnl ef yon. Leone, for that. You are my wife before Uod and mtn. Nothing ehal take you from me but death." " Hut death, .he repeated slowly. And in after years they both remember ed ths words. CHAPTKR IX MYtTOuoi-8 evening ? I have something very important to tell you. Not one word to mot ner yet." Lx>rd Lanswsll atood still to think with the telegram in his hand. " What oan bo tbe matter now :" be said to himself ; " that boy will give me trouble He has done something now that he will not let my lady know. He bad a dull, heavy presentiment that the boy who shouli havs been the pride and delight of his life wonld be a drawback and a torment. "I must go," said the ewl to himself, I must make some excuse M satisfy my lady." It was typioal of Lady Laaswell that her husband seldom spoke of her as my wifs, the children more seldom still as "my mother ;" every one alike called hr " my lady." She might have been the only peer ess in England, so entirely did avery one agree in giving ber that title. "My lady " was pleassd meant sunshine at Cawdor ; " my lady " was angry, meant gloom. She ted the But thinking over it would not solve the mystery ; tbe earl went to bis room and dressed for dinner. He bad ordered a bot- tle of bis favorite Madeira, of which won- derful tales were told. Then h sat thinking abont his son, snd his heart softened toward him. He thought. of the handsome, curly- beaded young boy wboee grand spirit no one but my Udy oould subdue. He laughed aloud as U re- membered tbe struggle* between himself and bis k*ir they had always snded in his defeat : but when my lady came on the scone it was juite another thing, the defeat was on tbe other side then, and my Lord Chandoe was usually carried off defeated and conquered. He thought of the handsome .tripling who used to at Cawdor, wander trying about tbe ground* to conceal from my lady the fact that he smoked cigars. He did not fear bis father and smoked boldly belore him, but at the firet sound of my lady rustling silks he flew rather than ran. Lord Lanswell thought of it all. He is just as frightened at laughed aloud as he my lady now," he said to himself. ' I cannot help feeling touched and flattered that he hae sent for me in his trouble. I will help him and my lady shall never know." His heart warmed to his son and heir- no one knew how dearly be loved him, nor how completely his life was wrapped up in Then be beard a cab drive up to the him. door. Surely that must be Lance. He listened in impatient suspense be heard whi.pering in the outer ball, as (.hough some consultation were being held. " What in tbe world is ths boy making a mystery over!" be asked himself. Tnenhe started from his chair in nnntter- able amazement. Before him stood Lance, Lord Chandoa, holding the bands of ths most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life. (TO M COSTINl'tn. ) THE ONLY SOLUTION. regulat moral and mental atmoaphere of the hones with a smils or a frown. Lord Laaswoll knsw that he dare not show ths telegram to Lady Lanswell ; .he wonld have started off at once for Dun- more House, and there would have beso war. He must deceive her. He carefully A rnnsllv Con Uve nnel Bake T*n Acroe of tana. Tbe SL Paul Pioneer Press is just now diseasing tbe idea of .en ling tbe nnem ployed back to the land for their susten- ance, "It is the only rational solution of destrofed tbe te fashion which be di legram ; id not o in some queer own even to him self be had a kind of sympathy with his *"~n, He bad been wild in hi. youth and made allowances for tbe same in others. His worst thought now was that his handsome young heir, with the frank blue eyes and sunny hair had been gambling or betting " A tew thousand pounds would ssl him straight, " hs thought , "and after all one must not be too hard on the follies of youth." No need to tell my lady; she looked on thes* exploits with a keen, cold eye. He went to ths drawing-room, where my lady sat looking regally beautiful in black velvet and point lace. The ( ountossof Lanswell was considsred we of the handsomest women in Kngland. She had married very young, and ber beau- conquer. As tune, wore on tbe keep fell into Cawdor took rank among the most state- ly homes of Kngland ; It had been original ly one of the grand Saxon strongholds, one too, which the Normans had found hard to the round towers and tbe keep fell into ruins picturesque and ljeutiful ruins, round which the green ivy hung In luxuriant profusion ; then the rum. were left .tending. Little by little the new plaos was built not by any particular design ; wing af'er wing, story alter story, until It beoams ons of the moot picturesque and most magnifi- oent homes in England. Cawdnr it wae called ; neither uonrt, hall nor park, simply I awdor ; and there were very few people in Kngland who did not know Cawdor Th " WM no him of her corning h.ppmes. and grandeur. but .he did not dare to break her word. Koberl Noel looked up in w.md.r. There was his beautiful niece kneeling at his feet, bar eves dim with tears. 'Unole, ' .he was saying, "look at me, listen torn*, I want to thank you. I want you a ways to remember that oa this night I . -It ai your feet and thanked you with , - ....,,- xr sful heart for all yon have ever done tion ' picture, in which one did not see 1 mini of Cawdor. It had in Iteslf every attribute of beauty, the ivy mantled rums, the keep, from which one could see into five different counties, the moat, now over- grown with tree* ; the old-fashioned draw briilgs which contrasted so beautifully with the grand modern entrance, worthy of a Venetian palace ; ths winding river, >' ngrevmgs that had B0t TIew ' t'wdor for iu first and B 1 *** attraction j there was no exhlbi- ' "Why, my My u Mi " b . Mp|W havs always been tome as a child of my own," he replied. "A tlresoms child shs said half Isughing. half crymg. "See. I taks this dssr, brow!! hand, so hard with work, and Ik I.. ,, , UMto, and thank you from my work, indlkl.iu was still so well preserve! that shs took bar plaoa with he beauties of the day. Hu.band and children both felt in awe of the bean iful woman with her queenly grace and bearing. "Lucia," said the sari, "I thought of mining up to town this afternoon. 1 shall return to-morrow. " " Indeed," said my lady, slowly. " Why this sudden resolution. Root?" " There Is some little bnsinoas that no is oan attend to but myself,' ha amid, "I hall not b* long absent." Business of what nature ?" asked my lady, hsr fine eyas nxed oa his face. " Why. dear, it is surely not nosdful for ms to ei plain my business to yon ? I have none of which you would not approve. I want to call on my bankers I want to sell soms shares I have several little reasons for running up to town." " You remember, of course, that tbe Bkauvoire dine bare to-day '" said my lady. " Yss, 1 have not forgotten, but with your uiual tact yon can apologize for me, Lucia." The compliment pleased ber. "Certainly, I oan, if your absence is really needful. Rose." said my lady. It is needful, I assure yoa. f oan tell all I have done when I return ; just now I must hurry off, or 1 shall not catch the train." As the earl quitted Cawdor, ho regretted deeply that his son should have complicated tbe situation by enforcing his silence as re- [arded hi. mother. He pondered a great deal on what he hoiild say when he returned above all, if he boy', trouble was, as hs imagined, the OSS of money. " I mast not let his mother know," thought ths earl. Boys are boys ; she would think he wa* lost altogether if .he knew that ho had betting and gambling labls. Whatevsr hs owes, no matter rhat it is, I will give him a ohook for it, nd niaks him promise ms that it shall be he last time. He never thought of any other dangtr ; hat bis son had fallen in lo\e or wanted to marry nsvsr occurred to him. He we. glad when they reached Dunmore Honse ; the the problem," aay* The Prose, " It tains at the same time the solution of half ha other problems, moral, social and poh- tical. that perplex us. Ws must get rid of tbe insane idaa that ths man who is willing to do a particular kind of work has a right to have that particular kind of work provided for him; that the man who is willing to work in a partioalar place must have work given to him there ; la a word, that the unemployed ha* a right to make any sort of conditions, sxospt that the work which is offered to him shall be wholesome and honorable labor." Contin- uing, the subject. The Pioneer Prose shows in detail how "a family may live and make money on 10 acres of (and; live not in tbe wretchedness and privation that surround the unemployed of the great cities, but in comfort and plenty. If each man ot the unemployed oan be placed on a lU-aora tract his future is sooure. If hs will not go to meet it, then he ought to bear tbe etnpe. that wait upoa every one of us, wherever placed, who will not accept the work that offers. We shall oonsidsr this subject more in detail upon future occa- sions. What we wish to enforce here, witb all the emphasis at command, is that tho problem of tbe unemployed oan be solved completely in a country like this, where land is plentiful and cheap, at far lees cost than iii any other way, by making such arrangement* that each individual can be- come a farm laborer and a future proprietor if ha will. It is tba bast thing for him. It is God's rescue for his children, if be have any, from the contamination of the city's street*. Ten acres means support and in dependence. Twenty are still better, and we oan easily .pare them in the North- Wast. Here lies the solution of ths problem of the unemployed. The sooner it is acted upon the better for rich and poor, for country and town." it always involves style of living of enter. The result is an almost irresistible desire on the part of thousand, to make tbeir prospsrity visible, to livs as well as those with whom tbey wish to aasociate,aod in order to do so they spend to the extent of, or exceed, their income*. They will not alter tbeir mode of life with declining means, lest they should loee tbe respect of their fellows, though singularly enough. they permit other, w dictate their standard of living without apparently losing their own self-respect. There is, of course. something lacking in these men which pro- vents them from fully realizing the danger in which they are involving their familiee, and an absence of the courage and inde- pendence eeaential to a really strong char- acter. Nevertheless while the motive is mainly vanity, it is qnito compateble with th possession of manly virtues. There are other cauaoe contributing to tbe same end, notably the increasing love of comfort which has taken possessioD of tbe people, t he gratification o,' which, within reasonable bounds, is to be) commended as advancing civilization. But a still stronger one i. careloaeness and laziness ; for while our people are energetic and industrious, they will not teks the t rouble necessary to save money ; that is, tbe men will not. They will not take the time to find out where they can bny most cheaply, bat buy at the meet convenient ehop, and will not "aggie over prices in order to save email sums of money. Of two articles of the same slass they generally purchase the most expensive, and will not give the energy iiecessary to keep what they bny in good repair. The women, fortunately, do give the time and energy, rather delighting in details, and, indeed, if they did not do so in sxpsnditures for the house, matters wonld be far wens than thsy are. But men as a rule coniUnlly nay a fourth mote for what they buy than they should. sin ply because they wili not take the tronbl* to avoid doing so. No doubt they gsin some- thing in longevity in thus refuting, for economy involves care and care exhausts vitality, but they do not neglect opportuni- ties of earning money for this reason. There is, of course, another cause of extra- vagaoce, that ie, pride, the dulising to be thought "near," though the quality ie quite distinct from meanneaa, and involves no suspicion of dishonesty. Indeed, in conn nental oountriesnesroeee is deemed a virtue, as necessary to a strong character, and standing for the sturdy independence which refu.ee to pay mors for anything than is right. PRINCESS ALIX OF HESSE Wno Will > the *exl a la. press ef *.. Tbe gratia Princaas Alix of Hesos, whoaa charming portrait fracoi the Craftoa (iallery collection of "Fair Woman " in London this season, and who Is soon to l.e the bride of the Cxarewitoh of Russia, is the sister of the reigning Duke of Hosse. and daughter of that Princess Alice who diod at Darmstadt, and whom Vneen Vic- tona so tenderly mourned. The future Emproes of Russia is of yield- ing and amiable disposition, and is goinu patisntly through all ths oeremoiiie. ne- cessary to fit her for ber exalted post one of which is the learning of all the formula* of the i. reek Orthodox Church. Not all (ierman Prinoea.ee have been so accommodating as to fit themselves to the official religion when marrying into the Russian nobility. The Dukes of Mscklsm- burg would not allow their daughter* who made Russian marriages m abjure tb* faith of thsir childhood. Ths Prinoeas Alix 1* greatly beloved by Queen Victoria, who has also taksn an im- mense liking to tba Curewitch, because be A GLIMPSE AT KOREA. If Ike rreaM* Werk Ik* Mewev Tk*y Earn la Taken Freen Them. " ' What is ths use of working and mak- ing money,' said once a Korean to me, writes A. H. Savage Lander ; 'if when tbe work is done and ths money mads, this is taken away trom yoa by the officials, and you are worn out for having done the work, and as poor as before, if. mind yon, you are fortunate enough not to be exiled to a die- has enriched himsslf at yoni expenea? Now,' addd the Korean, lookir| oarneatly into my face, ' wonld yoa work under thoaa cir- cumstanoea V " ' 1 am handed if I would.' ware the words which, to the beat of my ability, I struggled hard to translate in tba Korean language, to show my approval of his phil- osophic way of thinking. " There is no doubt that what the Kor oan said to me was perfectly true, and that tbe system of ' sqneesing* is carried on, on a vary largo scale, by tha magistrate*, jost the same aa in China, and it naturally has a very depressing afloat on the people squeezed/ " It is really painful. when you Brat land in Korea, to notice the careworn, and sx- preesion on everybody'* face; there they lie about idle and pensive, doubtful as to what will happen to them to-morrow, all anxious for generations, that a reform might take place in the) mode of government, yet all for centuries), too laxy to attempt to better their position. Such is human nature ! It is hard indood to suffer, but it is nothing as oomparoxt with tha trouble and worry ot mi pro vug one's own standing ; and no oae better than the Koreans know this. "They ore born philosophers, and thsy make the boat of what they have, or rather of what they have not. When yon hear Koreans talk, the topic of the conversation is invariably 'money ;' if it is not * money,' it i* 'food.' If they have quarrels among thsmselvoa, what oaa the cause be but ' cash ' T and if yon so*) a deadly fight in the streets, what oould it ba about if not for probably the equivalent of a farthing 7" Id houseseeper net bin in tbe hall. [ U to to Alii s husband. Result of a Crime. Pathetic results have followed the arrest at Denver, Col., of K. K. Kidd, a young Kngli.hman, for e'l.be/ '.ling S835 from 8. K. Barrote, which occurred ssvaral days ago. Last Wednesday Mr. Kidd 'a wife, feeling doaply the disgrace of her husband's acts, went to the Victoria Hotel and at- tempted suicide by moane of poisoning, but wa. prevented by prompt medical attend- ance. Mr. Kidd was unaware of his wife's pri-.li ainriit. but hie crime so pieyed upon hie mind that ho is uow hopeleeely ID- Cocoanuts Save Heads. A curious artirtoo was adopted by a Chinese slave ship when attacked by a man-of-war. The crew threw oocoanuta overboard into the sea* and thsn jumped in among them. Nearly all escaped, for ic was impossible to tall which were beads and wmuo were BUM.

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