"HAND AND RING."

By Anna Katherine Grkhx

Author ot " Tho Leavonworth Murder," " The Sword of Damodos," " The Dcfcnco oCVflPrude," etc.

CHAFER XXXIX.

JIB GKYCK

What you havo spoke, it may bo so, perchance. This tyrant, whose solo name blisters ottr

tongues, Was once thought honest.

—M &CBETII,

Ax hour later, as Mr Ferris was leaving the house in company with Dr. Tredwell, he felt himself stopped by a slight touch on his arm. Turning about, he saw Hick ory.

"Beg pardon, sirs," said the detectivo, with a short bow, " but there's a gentleman in the library who would liko to see you be fore you go."

They at once turned to the room indi cated. But at sight of its well-known ieatures—its huge cases of books, its largo contre-tablo profusely littered with papers, the burnt-out grato, the empty arm-chair— they paused, and it was with difficulty they could recover thcmsolvessufficientlytoenter, "When they did, their first glance was * 10 . ward the gentleman they saw standir> m a distant window, apparently p>-J rug ing a book. "Who is it?" inquired Mr Ferris of his companion. "I cannotimagip' o) » returned the other< HfM^S voices _ tho gentleman advanced. ('.i\h, said liei i' allow me to introduco ■myself. I »: m Mr Gryce, of the Now York .Detectives' Service." ".Sir, Qryce!" repeated tho District At *orno-y) j n astonishment. .the famous detective bowed, "I have Come," said he, "upona summons received: by me in Utica not six hours ago. It was [ sont by a subordinate of mine interested in the trial now going on before the court. Horace Byrd is his nttme. I hope he is Well liked here and has your confidence." "Mr Byrd is well enough ■liiajd," re joined Mr Ferris, "but I gave him no Orders to send for you. At what hour was the telegram dated ?" "At half-past eleven, immediately after the accident to Mr Orcutt." " 1 see." " He probably felt himself inadequate to Jneot this new emorgency. lie is a young man, and the affair is certainly a compli cated one." ' The District Attr jrnoy) w j lo na d been Btudying the; countenance of the able detec tive before him, bowed courteously. "lam no.',; displeased to see you," said be. "If. you have been in the room above

The other gravely bowed. " You know probably of the outrageous accusation which has just been made against our best lawyer and Inost-eateemed citizen. It is but one of many which this same woman has made ; and while it is to be regarded as the ravings of lunacy, still your character and ability may weigh much in lifting the opprobrium which ahy such accusation, however unfounded, is calcu lated to throw around tho memory of my flying•friend." " Sir," returned Mr Gryce, shifting his gaze uneasily from one small object to an other in that dismal room, till all and every articlo it contained seemed to partake of his mysterious confidence, " this is a world of disappointment and deceit. Intellects we admired, hearts in which we trusted, turn out frequently to be the abodes of falsehood and violence. It is dreadful, but it is true." Mr Ferris, struck aghast, looked at the detective with severe disapprobation. "Is it possible," he asked, "that you Lave allowed yourself to giye any credence to the delirious utterances of a man suffer ing from a wound on the head, or to the frantic words of a woman who lias already abused the ears of the court by a deliberate perjury ?" While Dr. Tredwell, equally in dignant and even more impatient, rapped with his knuckles on the table by which he Btood, and cried: " Pooh, pooh! the man cannot be such a fool!"

A solemn smile crossed the features of the detective. *;Many persons have listened to tho aspersion you denounce. Active measures •will be needed to prevent its going farther." "I have commanded silence," said Dr. Tredwell. ■ " Respect for Mr Orcutt will Cause my wishes to bo obeyed." " Does Mr Orcutt enjoy the universal respect of the town ?" " He does," was the stern reply. "It behoves U3, then," said-Mr Gryce, •' to clear his memory from every doubt by a strict inquiry into his relations with the murdered woman." "They are known," returned Mr Ferris, with grim reserve. "They were such as any man might hold with the woman at ■whose house ne finds it convenient to take his daily dinner. She was to him the pro vider of a good meal." • Mr Gryce's eye travelled slowly toward 3VIr Ferris's shirb stud. a "Gentlemen," said he, "do you forgot that Mr Orcutt was on the scene of murder some minutes beforo the rest of you arrived? Let the attention of people once be directed toward him as a suspicious party, and they will be likely to remember this fact." Astounded, both men drew back. "What do you mean by that remark?" they asked. "I mean," said Mr Gryco, " that Mr Orcutt's visit to Mrs Clemmons's house on the morning of the murder will bo apt to be recalled by personsof a suspicious tendency as having given him an opportunity to com mit the crime." "People are not such fools," cried Dr. Tredwell; while Mr Ferric, in a tone of mingled incredulity and anger, exclaimed,: "And do you, a reputable detective, and, as I have been told, a man of excellent judgment, presume to say that there could be found any one in this town, or even in this country, who could let his suspicions carry him so far as to hint that Mr Orcutt Btruck this woman with his own hand in the minute or two that elapsed between his going into her house and his coming out again with tidings of her death ?" " Those who remember that he had been a participator in the lengthy discussion which had just taken place on the court house steps as to how a man might commit a crime without laying himself open to the risk of detection, might—yes, sir." Mr Ferris and the coroner, who, whatever their doubts or fears, had never for an in stant seriously believed the dying words of Mr Orcutt to be those of confession, gazed in consternation at the detective, and finally inquired : " Do you realise what you are saying ?" Mr Gryce drew a deep breath, and shifted his gaze to the next stud in Mr Ferris's shirt-front. "I have never been accused of speaking lichtly," he remarked. Then with quiet insistence, asked: " Whore was Mrs Clem mens believed to get the money she lived On?" " It is not known." rejoined the District Attorney. "Yet she left a nice littlo sum bohind

her?" "Fivo thousand dollars," declared the coroner. " Strange, that in a town like this no one should know \i here it came from ?" suggested the detective. The two gentlemen were silent. " It was a good deal to come from Mr Orcutt in payment of a single meal a day 1" continued Mr Gryco. " No one has ever supposed it did come from Mr Orcutt," remarked Mr Ferris, with Borne severity. "But does anyone know it did not?" ventured the detective. Dr. Tredwell and the District Attorney looked at each other, but did not reply. "Gentlemen," pursued Mr Gryce, after a moment of quiet waiting, " this is, without exception, the most serious moment of my life Never in the course of my experience —and that includes much—have I been placed in a more trying position than now. To allow one's self to doubt, much less to question, the integrity of so eminent a man seems to me only less dreadful than xt does to you ; yet, for all that, were I Ins friend, as I certainly am his admirer, I would say : •Sift this matter to the bottom; let us know if this great lawyer has any more in favour of his innocence than the other gentlemen who have been publicly accused °£«*But ""protested Dr. Tredwell, deeing that the District Attorney was too much moved to speak, "you forget the evidences which underlay the accusation of these other gentlemen ; also that of all the per sons who, from the day the widow was struck till now, have been in any way as sociated with suspicion, Mr Orcutt is the only one who could have had no earthly motive for injuring this humble woman, even if he were all he would have to be to first perform such a brutal deed, and then carry out his hypocrisy to the point of using his skill as a criminal lawyer to defend an other man falsely accused of the crime. " I beg your pardon, sir," said the detec tive, "but I forget nothing.. I only bring to the consideration of this eubjeet a totally ■iIMaMBHMaBBHIMMMMMIMIIH

unprejudiced mind and an oxperfeuee which has taught me never to omit testing the truth of a charge because it seems at first blush false, preposterous, and without visible foundation. If you will recall the conversation to which I havo just alluded as having been hold x)n tho court-house steps on the morning Mrs Clemmens was murdered, you will remember that it was the intellectual crime that was discussed— the crime of an intelligent man, safe in the knowledge that his motive for doing such a deed was a secret to the world,"

" My God !" exclaimed Mr Ferris, under his breath, " the man seems to be in earnest I"

"Gentlemen," pursued Mr Gryce, with more dignity than he had hitherto seen fit to assume, " it is not my usual practice to express myself as openly.as 1 ha\'e done here to-day. In all ordinary eases I 'con sider it expedient to reserve intact my sus picions and my doubts tilli ha1 vo completed fey discoveries and arranged itty argu ments so as to bear out with some show of reason whatever statement I may feel obliged to make. But the extraordinary features of this affair, m& the fact that so many were present a'' i-lip scene wo have just left, have co-.^j ' iz to doen°bt C°' eSa''on' * stiU see much reas°» to aouut p |B lnnocence| and] f ee ii n g tnuS) ara a;.'ute willing you should know it in time prepare fer the worst." " Then you propose making what has oc curred here public?" asked Mr Ferris, with emotion.

"Not so," was the detective's ready reply. "On tho contrary, I was about to suggest that you did something moro than ! lay a command of silonco upon thoSo who i were present." The District AttotaGy, who, as he after-! ward said, felt fto if ho were labouring; under some oppressive nightmare, turned to the coroner and said:: do? Terribloasthisri-d Ahasbeen, andserious as is the duty It possibly involves, I have never allov/otl myself U shrink from doing What was right simply because it afforded sttltering to myself or indignity to my friends. Do you think lam called upon to pursue this matter?"

Tho coroner, troubled, aSkiotts, and nearly as much overwhelmed as the Dis trict Attorney, tM hot immediately reply Indeed, the situation was ono to upset any man of whatever calibre. Finally he turned to Ml" Gryco,

ft»r Gryce," said he, "we are, as you havo observed, friends of the dying man, and, being so, may miss our duty in our sympathy. What do you think ought to be done, in justice to him, the prisoner, and the positions which wo both occupy ?" "Woll, sirs," rejoined Mr Uryce, "it is not usual, perhaps, for a man in my posi tion to offer actual advice tts gentlemen in yours : but if you wish to know what course I should pursue if I were in your places', I should say! First, require the Witnesses still lingoring around tho dyittg man to promise that they will no tdlVUlgo what was there said till a weeK has fully eiapsed; next, adjourn* liie case now before the court for tho same decent length of timo ; and) lastly, trust me and the two men you havo hitherto employed to find out if there is anything in Mr Orcutt'o past history of a nature to make you tremble if the world hears of the Words which escaped him on his deftth-bed. We shall probably need but a week."

"And Miss Dare?"

"Has already promised secrecy." There was nothing in all this to alarm their fears ; everything, on tho contrary, to allay them.

The coroner gave a nod of approval to Mr Ferris, and both signified their acquies cence in tho measures proposed. Mr Gryce at once assumed his usual genial air.

"You may trust me," said he, "to exercise all the discretion you would your selves show under the circumstances. I have no wish to see the name of suoh a man blasted by an ineffaceable stain." And he bowed as if about to leave the room,

Bat Mr Ferris, who had observed this movement with an ail" of somo Uneasiness, suddenly stepped forward and stopped him. "I wish to ask," said ho, "whether superstition has had anything to do with this readiness on your part to impute the worst meaning to the chance phrases which have fallen from the lips of our severely in jured friend. Because his end seems in some regards to mirror that of the widow, have you allowed a remembrance of the words she made use of in the face of death to influence your good judgment as to tbe identity of Mr Orcutt with her assassin ?"

The face of Mr Gryco assumed its grim mest aspect. "Do you thiuk this catastrophe was necessary to draw my attention to Mr Orcutt? To a man acquainted with the extraordinary coincidence that marked the discovery of Mrs Clemmens's murder, the mystery must be that Mr Orcutt has gone unsuspected for so long." And assuming an argumentative air, he asked : " Were either of you two gentlemen present at the conversation I have men tioned as taking place on the court-house steps the morning Mrs Clemmens was murdered ?" " I was," said the District Attorney. "You remember, then, the hunchback who was so free with his views ?" ' " Most certainly." " And know, perhaps, who that hunch back was I" "Yes." " You will not be surprised, then, if I re call to you the special incidents of that hour. A group of lawyers, among them Mr Orcutt, are amusing themselves with an off-hand chat concerning criminals and the clumsy way in which, as a rule, they plan and execute their crimes. All seem to agreo that a murder is usually followed by detection, when suddenly a stranger (-peaks and tells them that the true way to make a success of the crime is to choose a thorough fare for the scene of tragedy, and employ a weapon that has been picked up on the spot. What happens ? Within five minutes after this piece of gratuitous in formation, or as soon as Mr Orcutt can cross the Btreet, Mrs Clemmens is found lying in her blood, struck down by a stick of wood picked up from her own hearth stone. Is this chance ? If so, 'tis a very curious one." "I don't deny it," said Dr. Tredwell. "I believe you never did deny it," quickly retorted the detective. "Ami not right in saying that it struck you so forcibly at the time as to lead you into supposing some collusion between the hunchback and the murderer '!" "It certainly did," admitted the coroner. " Very well," proceeded Mr Gryce. " Now, as there could have been no collu sion between these parties, the hunchback being no other person than myself, what are we to think of this murder? That it was a coincidence, or an actual result of the hunchback's words ?" Dr. Tredwell and Mr Ferris were both silent. "Sirs," continued Mr Gryce, feeling, perhaps, that perfect openness was neces sary in order to >yin entire confidence, "I am not given to boasting or to a too-free expression of my opinion, but if I had been ignorant of this affair, and one of my men had come to me and said : ' A mysterious murder has just taken plucc, marked by this extraordinary fcatuie, that it is a pre cise reproduction of a supposablc case of crime which has just been discussed by a group of indifferent persons in the public street,' and then had asked me where to look for the assassin, I sOiould have said ; 1 Search for that man who heard the dis cussion through, was among the first to leave the group, and was the first to show himself upon the scene of raurdor.' To be sure, when Byrd did conic to me with this story, 1 was silent, for the man who fulfilled these conditions was Mr Orcutt." "Then," said Mr Ferris, "you mean to say that you would have suspected Mr Orcutt of this crime long ago if he had not been a man of such position and emin ence ?" ' " Undoubtedly," was Mr Gryce s reply. If the expression* was unequivocal, his air was still more so. Shocked and disturbed, both gentlemen fell back. The detective at once advanced and opened the door. It was time. Mr Byrd had been tapping upon it for some minutes, and now hastily came in. His face told the nature of his errand before he spoke. "I am sorry to be obliged to inform you " he began. "Mr Orcutt is dead?" quickly inter posed Mr Ferris. The young detective solemnly bowed. CHAPTER XL. IN THE I'KISOiV. The jury passing on the prisoner's life May'in the sworn twelve have a thief or two Guiltier than him they try. —Measure for Measure. Such welcome and unwelcome things at once Tis hard to reconcile. —Macbeth.

Mr Mansell sat in his cell, the prey of gloomy and perturbed thought. He knew Mr Orcutt was dead ; he had been told of it early in the morning by his gaoler, but of the circumstances which attended that death he knew nothing, save that the law yer had been struck by a limb falling from a tree in his own garden.

The few moments during which the court liitd met for the purpose of re.ad journment had added but little to his en lightenment. A marked reserve had characterised the whole proceedings; and though an indefinable inßtinct had told him that in some mjsterious way his cause had been helped rather than injured by this calamity to his counsel, he found no one ready to volunteer those explanations Which his great interest in the matter certainly demanded. The hour, therefore, which he spont in solitude upon his return to prison ■was one of great anxiety, arid it was e^uite a welcome relief when the cfell door opened and the keeper ushered in b, strange gentle taan. Supposing it to He 'the new counsel ho had chosen ht haphazard from a list of names that had been offered him, Mr Man soil i-ose. But a second glance assured him he had made a mistake in supposing this person to be a lawyer, and stepping back lie awaited his approach with mingled curiosity and reserve. The stranger, who Soemed to be per fectly at )v>nYo hi tho narrow quarters in which Jje found himself, advanced wit^ a I 1"" V.k air, " My name is Gryce," said he, " and I am a detective. Tho District Attorney, who, as you know, has been placed in a very em barrassing situation by the events of tho last two days, has accepted my services in connection with those of the two men al-

ready employed by him, in tho hope that

my greater experience may assist him in determining which of all the persons who have been accused, or \\lrn have accused thomselvesi of murdering Mrs Clemmens, Is tho actual perpetrator of that deed. Do you require my further assurance of my being in the confi dence of Mr Ferris tlvatt the Met thai; I am here, and in full liberty ft talk with you?" " Ko)' )!6l:!l rne< l the other, after a short "lit ofe B tudy of his visitor.

" Very well, then," continued tho detec tivo, with a comfortable air of ease, "I will speak to the point; and tho first thing I will siy is, that upon looking at the evP den no against you, and hearing what 1 have lienrd from various smtreos slnßq I came to town, I know ybli are not the man who killed Airs Clemmens. To be sure, you have doclined to explain certain points, but I think you can oxplain them, and if you will only inform me " " Pardon me," interrupted Mr Mansell. gravely ; " but you say you are a detective, Now, I have no information to give a de tective." 11 Aro you sure ?" was tho imperturbablo query. " Quite," was the quick reply. " You are then determined upon going to tho scaffold, whether or no?" remarked Mr GrycC) somewhat grimly. " Yes, if to escape it I muafc'cohrtUe ih a detective." "Then you «o wrong," declared tho other ; il as I will immediately proceed to shofr you. Mr Mansell, you are, of courss, aware of tho manner of Mr Orcutt's death ?" '' I know he was struckbya falling limb." " Do you know what he was doing when this occurred ?" 11 No." "Ho was escorting Miss Dare down to tho gate." The prisoner, whose countenance had brightened at the mention of his lawyer, turned a deadly whito at this. "And—and was Miss Dare hurt?" ho asked. The detective shook his head. " Then why do you tell mo this?" " liocauso it has much to do with the oc casion of my coming here, Mr Mansell," proceeded Mr (Iryce, in that tone of com pletely understanding himself which he knew so woll how to assume with men of the prisoner's stamp. "I am going to speak to you without circumlocution or dis guise. lam going to put your position be fore you just as it is. You aro on trial for a murder of which not only yoursolf, but another man, was suspected. Why are you on trial instead of him ? Because you were reticent in regard to cortain matters which common-sense would Ray you ought to bo able to explain. Why wuro you reticent ? There can be but ono answer. Because you feared to implicate another person, for who-o happiness and honour you had moro repaid than for your own. Who was that oilier poison ? Tho woman who stood up in court yesterday and declared she had her self committed this crime. What is the con clusion ? You believe, and have always be lioveil, Miss Dare to bo tho assassin of Mrs Clemmens." The prisoner, whoso pallor had increased with every word tho detective uttered, leapei! to his feet at this last sentence. "You have no right to say that!" ho vehemently asseverated. " What do you know of my thoughts or my boliefs ? Do I carry my convictions on my sleeve ? I am not the man to betray my ideas or feelings to tho world." Mr Gryce smiled. To be sure, this ex iression of silent complacency was directed o tho grating of the window overhead, but t was none the less effectual on that ac ount. Mr Mansoll, despite his self com mand, began to look uneasy. " Prove your words!" he cried. "Show that these have been my convictions!" " Very well," returned Mr Gryce " Why were you so long silent about the ring ? Because you did not wish to com promise Miss Dare by declaring she did not return it to you, as she had said. Why did you try to stop her in tho midst of her testi mony yesterday ? Because you saw it was going to end in confession. Finally, why did you throw aside your defence, and in stead of proclaiming yourself guilty, simply tell how you were able to reach Monteith Quarry Station in ninety minutes ? Because you feared her guilt would be confirmed if her statements were investigated, and were willing to sacrifice everything but the truth in order to save her."

" You give me credit for a great deal of generosity," coldly replied the prisoner. " After the evidence brought against me by the prosecution, I should think my guilt would be accepted as proved the moment I showed that I had not left Mrs Clemmenp's house at the time she was be lioved to bo murdered."

"And so it would," responded Mr Gryce, " if the prosecution bad not seen reason to believe that the moment of Mrs Clemmens's death has been put too early. We now think she was not struck till some time after twelve, instead of five minutes be fore."

" Indeed!" said Mr Mansell, with stern self-control.

Mr Gryce, whose carelessly roving eye told little of the close study with which he was honouring the man before him, nodded with grave decision. '• You could add vej^y much to our con victions on this point," he observed, "by telling what it was you saw or heard in Mrs Clemmens's house at the moment you fled from it so abruptly.'"

" How do you know I fled from ifc abruptly?"

" You were seen. The fact has not ap peared in court, but a witness we might name perceived you flying, from your aunt's door to the swamp as if your life depended upon the speed you made,"

" And with that fact added to all the rest you have against me, you gay you believe me innocent?" exclaimed Mr Mansell.

" Yes ; for I have also said I believe Mrs Clemmons not to have been assaulted till after the hour of noon. You fled from the door at precisely five minutes before it."

The uneasiness of Mr Mansell's face in creased, till it amounted to agitation. "And may I aik," said lie, "what has hipi ened to make yon believe she was not struck at the moment hitherto supposed " Ah, now," replied the detective, " we come down to facts." And leaning with a confidential air toward the prisoner, he quietly said : " Your counsel has died, for one thing."

Astonished as much by the tone as the tenor of these words, Mr Mansell drew back from his visitor in some distrust. Seeing it, Mr Gryce edged still farther for ward and calmly continued:

"If no one has told you the particulars of Mr Orcutt's death, you probably do not know why Miss Dare was at his house last evening?"

The look of the prisoner was sufficient reply.

"She went there," resumed Mr Gryce, with composure, "to tell him that her whole evidence against you had been given under the belief that you were guilty of the crime with which you had been charged ;that by a trick of my fellow detectives, U'cWy andßyrd,shehadbeendeceivedintolhln'iing you had actually admitted your guilt to her; and that she had only been undeceived after she had uttered the perjury with which she sought to save you yesterday morning."

"Perjury!" escaped involuntarily from Craik Mansell's lips. "Yes, "repeated the detective, "perjury. Miss Dare lied when she said she had been to Mrs Clemmens'a cottage on the morning of the murder. She was not there, nor did she lift her hand against the widow's life. That tale she told to escape telling another which she thought would insure your doom."

" You have been talking to Miss Dare V suggested the prisoner, with subdued sarcasm.

" I have been talking to my two men," was the unmoved retort, "to Hickory and Byrd, and they not only confirm this state ment of hers iv regard ; to the de ception they played upon her, bnt say

enough to show she could not have been guilty of the crime, because at that time she honestly be.ieved you to be so."

■ "I do not understand you," cried the prisoner, in a voice that, despite his marked self-oontrol, showed the presence of genuine emotion.

Mr Gryce at once went into particulars. He was anxious to have Crajk Mansell's lliind disftbused of the nation that Mbg&ni? had committed this crime, since up'oh that notion he believed his unfortunate reticence to test. He therefore gave him q full rela tion of the scene, in 'the hut, togotn'e'r with all its consequences.

Mr Mansell listened like a man in a dream. Some fact in the past ovidently made this story incredible to him.

Seeing it, Mr Gryce did not wait to hear his comments, but upon finishing his ac count, exclaimed, with a Confident air:

"Suoh testimony is conclusive. It is impossible to consider Miss Dare „,■,{»« after an insight of this '^nd Intn'tft Z\ state of her-, ndi Even nftfjßeen "■.weasiiCßS of persisting In her self-aCcUsa tion, find, as I have already fold you, Went to Mr Orcutt's house in order tb ex plain to him hoLv patst cohdtitft, and ask his advice for the futiul'o. She learned some thing 6130 before her interview with Mr Ol'cutt ended;" continued tho detective im pressively, " She leaVne't thrtt fillo llttU hot only been mistaken in supposing yoii had admitted your guilt; but that you collld hot have been guilty, because Vdit hiM tflways believed liter tb uB s'6. It lias been a Mutual edso, nf suspicion, yb'u see, and argues innocence.9ll jtlle p^rt of.ytfu both. Or |o It ,fjdem)3 t,o the prosscUtidii; How doe's it eqojl} to i/? 11 '" " Wbuld it help my cause to say ?" "It would help your cause to tell what sent you so abruptly from Mrs Clemmens's house tho morning she was murdered." " I do not see how," returned the prisoner.

The glance of Mr Gryce settlod confi dentially on his right hand whoro it lay out spread upon his ample knr.o.

"Mr Matisoll," ho inquired "havo you no Curiosity to know any details of the acci dent by which you havo unexpectedly been deprived of a counsel ?" Evidently surprised at this sudden chango of subject, Craik replied :

" If I had not hoped you would under stand my anxiety and presently relievo it, I eoull not huvo shown you as much patience as i have."

" Very well," rejoined MrGrycc, altering his manner with a suddenness that ovi dently alarmed his listener. "Mr Orcutt did not die immediately after he was struck down. Ho lived soino hours; lived to say some words that have materially changed the suspicions of persons inter osted.in the case ho was defending." "MrOrcutd"

The tone was one of surprise. MrG ry cc's little finger seemed to take note of it, for it tapped tho log bonoath it in quite an emphatic manner as he continued: "It wag in answer to a quostion put to him by Miss Dare. To the surprise of everyone, she had not left him from the moment they wore mutually relieved from tho weight of the fallen limb, but had stood over him for hours, watching for him to rouse from his insonsibility. When ho did, she appealed to him in a way that showed she expected a roply, to tell her who it was that killed tho Widow Glemmons."

" And did Mr Orcutt know ?" was Mon sell'a half-agitated, half-incredulous query. " His answer scorned to show that ho did. Mr Mansoll have you over had any doubts of Mr Orcutt?"

" Doubts';"

"Doubts us to his istcgrity, good heartcdness, or desire to servo you ?"J& " No."

" You will, then, be greatly surprised," Mr Gryce went on, with increased gravity, " when I tell you that Mr Orcutt's reply to Miss Dare's question was such ns to draw attention to himself as tho assassin of Widow Clommens, and that his words and tho circumstances under which they were uttered have so impressed Mr Ferris, that the question now agitating his mind is not, 'Is Craik Mansoll innocent, but was his cDunsol, Tremeut Orcutt, guilty?' " Tho excited Jook which had appoared on the face of Mansell at tho boginning of this speech changed to one of strong disgust. "This is too much !" ho cried. "I am not a fool to bo caught by any such mako believe as this ! Mr Orcutt thought to be an assassin ? You might as woll say that people accuse Judge Evans of killing the Widow Clemmens."

Mr Gryco, who had perhaps stretched a point when ho so unequivocally declared his complete confidence in tho innoconco of tho man before him, tapped his leg quite affectionately at this burst of natural in dignation, and counted off another point in favour of the prisoner. His words, how ever, were dry as sarcasm could make them.

"No," said he, "for people know that Judgo Evans was without tho opportunity for committing this murder, whilo every one remembers how Mr Orcutt went to the widow's house and came out again with tidings of her death."

Tho prisoner's lip curled disdainfully. " And do you oxpect me to beliovo you regard this as a groundwork for suspicion ? I should have givon you credit for more penetration, sir." " T.ion you do not think Mr Orcutt know what he was saying when, in answer to Miss Dare's appeal for him to tell who the murderer was, he answered: ' Blood will have blood !' and drew attention to his own violent end ?" " Did Mr Orcutt say that ?" "He did." " Very well, a man whose whole mind h as for some time been engrossed with de fending anothor man accused of murder might say anything while in a state of delirium." MrGryce uttered his favourite "Humph !" anil gave his leg another pat, but added, gravely enough : "Miss Dare believes his words to be tliose of confession." "You say Miss Daro once believed me to have confessed." "But," porsisted tho detective,/"Miss Dare is not alono in her opinion. Men in whose judgment you must rely find it difficult to explain tho words of Mr Orcutt by means of any other theory than that he is himself the perpotrator of that crime for which you are yourself being tried." "I find it difficult to believe that pos sible," quietly returned the prisoner. "What!1" he suddenly exclaimed; "sus pect a man of Mr Orcutt's abilities and standing of a hideous crime—the very crime too, with which his client is charged, and in defence of whom he has brought all his skill to bear! The iiea is preposterous, un heard of!" "I acknowledge that," dryly assented Mr Gryce ; "but it has boen my experience to find that it is the prepasterous things which happen," For a minute the prisoner stared at the speaker incredulously ; then he cried : " You really appear to be in earnest." "I was never more so in my life," was Mr Gryce's rejoinder. Drawing back, Craik Mansell looked at the detective with an emotion that had al most the character of hope. Presently he said: "If you do distrust Mr Orcutt, you must have weightier reasons for it than any you have given me. What are they ? You must be willing I should know, or you would not have gone as far with me as you have." . "You are right," Gryce assured him. " A case so complicated as this calls for unusual measures. Mr Ferris, feeling the gravity of his position, allows mo to take you into our confidence, in the hope that you will be able to help us out of our diffi culty." "I help you ! |You'd better release me first." "That will come in time." "I/I help you?" " Whether you help or not, if we can ■ satisfy ourselves and the world that Mr Orcutt's words were a confession. You may hasten that conviction." "How?" " By clearing up the mystery of your flight from Mrs Clemmens's house." The keen eyes of the prisoner fell ; all his old distrust seemed on the point of return ing. "That would not help you at all," said

" /should like to be the judge," said Mr Gryce. The prisoner shook his head. " My word must go for it," said he. The detective had been the hero of too many such scenes to be easily discouraged. Bowing as if accepting this conclusion from the prisoner, he quietly proceeded with tho recital he had planned. With a frankness certainly unusual to him, he gave the prisoner a Ml account of Mr Orcutt'e last hours, and the interview which had followed between himself and Miss Dare. To this he added his own reasons for doubting the lawyer, and, while admitting he saw no motive for the deed, gave it as his serious opinion that the motive would be found if once he could get at the secret of Mr Orcutt's real connection with the deceased. He was so eloquent, and so manifestly in earnest, Mr Mansell's eye brightened in spite of himself, and when the detective ceased he looked up with an expression which convinced Mr Gryce that half the battle was won. He accordingly said, in a tone of great confidence:

"A knowledge of what went on in Mrs demmene'a house before he wenttb it would

be of great help to us. With that for a start, all may be learned. I therefore put it to you for the last time whether it would not be best for you to explain yourself on this point. lam sdre you will not regret it* -

"Sir," adiei Mansell, with undisturbed composure, ''if^your piirposa is to fix this crinle on Mr Orcutt, I must insist upon ydufr taking my word tkat I have no infor mation til. give yoii tHat can in any way affect him."

•• You coul4 give us information, then, that would affect Miss Dare?" was the 'quick retort. "Now, I say," the astute detectivo declared, as the pii^fllior ££? e an almost imperceptible start, "that whatever your information is, Mies Dare is not guilty," '!{ 011% it!" exclaimed the prisoner. What does your opinion amount to if you na Y5Yi t hoard the evidenßo against her 1" "There is nd evidence agalhat her but what is pufely circumstantial" 11 How do £ou know that V' "Because fills is Intibeaiit. Circum stantial evidence may exist alike against the innocent and the guilty j real evidence only agftiniit tlid piTty, I Wentt to say that its I am firmly convinced Miss Dare once regarded you as guilty of this crime, I must be equally convinced she didn't com mit it herself; This Is ufianstfera'blc." '' You Have stated that before1.1' "iktitiwltj but I want £o!i to see the force of ij:.;. becdUsOj once Convinced with me that Miss Dare is innocent; you will be willing to tell rtll yb'u kijow, even what ap parontly Implicates Her." Siletlh'e Hrisfered ttyis neitiarji;

(To be Continii'ed.)

Romantic Suicide of a Young Woman.

Mil James Hijpf held an inquiry at the Hanover Inn, High Beach, Essex, on the body of Jane Margaret Gibbings, aged 19 years, who committed suicide under very romantic circumstances. Mrs Mary Ann GibbingH, a widow, living at Nile cottages, High Beach Road, said her daughter had been in service as a housemaid, but latterly had been staying with wit ness. She had been keeping company with a young man, and in conae quence of a quarrel witn him, had exhibited a strangeness in her manner. On Wednes day morning her dead body was found in a wator tank attacked to the premises. In her dress pocket was found the following lottor :—" Tuesday night. My dear mother, —When you hear of my distressing end you will, I know, break your heart. When I got into bed, and had been there more than half an hour, tho dovil paid me a visit. He stood talking to me for some time, and told me that ho had seen Charley—my young man—with another young woman. I said to myself, Now what can Ido ? To think ! he who I have loved so much should leave me for another! All of a sudden I thought of the water-butt, andthomoreltriedto keep away from it the more tho devil tried to get me into the wator. He said to me at last, 'If you jump in I will get Charloy to bring you out.' ily head is roving, and I feel on fire. I cannot say anything more. I have left my photograph in my box. Give it to Charley, and tell him that if it had not beon for him I should not have killed myself. I how ever, did it for the best. Now, mother, dear, what was tho good of my living ? I was misorablo, and could not bo happy without Charloy. Good-bye, mother. Give kind love to all.—Your loving daughter, Jane Maroahet Giiibincis."—The jury re turned a verdict of "Suicide while in a state of unsound mind."

The Dunedin Baby Show.

It would appear that if there is one show that has greater attractions than another for the ])uneclin public—or at all evonts for the feminino portion of it—it is a baby show. This was amply demonstrated last Friday wock by the presence of about 3,000 people at the Garrison Hall, whero tho baby show, promoted by the Naval Artillery Band in connection with their Industrial and Art Exhibition, was held. As early as 2 o'clock in the afternoon any person gifted with nn ordinary degree of observation would, on pursuing his way along the main thoroughfare of the city, havo noticed that something unusual was afoot; and, judging by the presence of the vast number of re spoetably-dressed mothers, proud in the possession of bflUies-in-arms, making their way along the footpaths, he would at once jump to the conclusion that that something must bo tho baby show, of which co much has been heard for the past few days. Fur suing his way to Dowling-streot, he would find that usually quiet thoroughfare nearly blocked with the crowds of people as sembled to see the procession of babies en route to the exhibition. For fully an hour an unbroken lino of visitors was marching down tho ctroet in the direction of the hall, mid the ticket-vendors had quite a lively time of it in supplying the demand. The inside of the hall could only be gained with great difficulty, and when once inside the doors tho visitor must have felt inclined to | pause and contemplate the scene. It wag one of almost indbscribablo confusion. Chairs had boon arranged for the accommo dation of mothers and their "exhibits" in tho centre of the hall and at the foot of the stage. These arrangements, however, were all upset by tho enormous crowd, for shortly after 3 o'clock every available square foot of space inside the hall was occupied. The gallery, the stage, and even thebar and refreshment rooms were invaded. Owing to the pressure of the crowd on the stage, the iron frame supporting the pic tures gave way, and threatened to fall on some of the babies who were stationed under it. Luckily, two or three gentlemen noticed it falling, and kept it up, till the pictures were removed. What otherwise might have be«a an serious accident was thus averted. It was difficult to get near the body of the hall, and when once there it took 20 minutes to regain the door and a breath of fresh air. A reporter, finding his efforts to get a glimpse of tho babies on the ground floor all in vain, proceeded to the gallery, where he soon found himself in the midst of a crowd of infants "muling and puking in their nurses' opus," The mothers had been told to proceed to the picture gallery, which it was intended to convert into a judging-room. The public, however, had also obtained access here in large numbers, despite the remonstrances of two well-known stalwart citizens who were stationed at the door; and it was utterly impossible to proceed with the judging. Proceeding to the edge of the gallery, the humours of the scone could be taken in at a glance. In the centre of the hall floor there was a select squadron of mothers, who enjoyed the priviloge of being accommodated with chairs. Among them was a man, who looked down upon the fine big boy he held in his arms with truoparental pride; while another of the lords of creation, sitting beside his better-half with one of their twin children on his knee, looked about him quite complacently, and appeared to take much parental pride in what Artemus Ward has so happily designated " episodes." Upstairs, a stately masculine nurse, with his little charge in his arms, was not quite ho fortunate as his brother nurse below. Ho appeared to be in a grave predicament, and evidently did not think his lot a happy one. In the crush it appears. he had by some means got separated from. his better-half, and the infant, missing the tender caresses of its mother, began to re monstrate—first in mild terms, and after wards in a louder key. Itpositively refused to be pacified, and the last record of the fond parent is that, after enduring the situation with as much graco as possible for some time, lie made a bee-line for the door. The atmosphere in the hall very soon be came stiflin{r,in consequence of the crowded state of the room, which was so great that several young children were lost in the general confusion. In one instance the mother was crying at the top of the stairs for her child, and the child was crying at the foot for her mother. Eventually, how ever, matters were set right by a joyful meeting at .tho foot of the staircase. It was found utterly impossible to proceed _with the judging under the circumstances, and it was ultimately announced that the proceedings would be adjourned.till Monday afternoon. Another incentive, in the shape of a number of extra special prizes, is advertised, and besides this a gentleman has generously offered to give an order for £1 worth of goods to all those mothers who may not be fortunate enough to carry off a prize. The baby exhibits entered amount to the respectable total of 140, so that the Committee have bad to advertise that no further entries will be received.' The entries in the various classes are as follow :— Under three months, 30; between three and six months, 35; between six and_nine months, 44 ; curly-headed youngsters, .12 ; twins, 9. Some of the children are, so: far as could be judged yesterday, exceptionally pretty, and those that are not pietty have other peculiarities to recommend them to the attention of the visitor. For instance, there is the heaviest baby, which its mother declares is only three months old, and the heaviest baby for its age she ever taw. Then there are the curly-headed babies; while o«e baby boy bpaste no.fower than 11 living sisters.

Feet and Feeling.

There was onoo a clever hostess of a sen side Inn. She had a guost who had been staying with her a couple of days, and Who proposed to depart on the morrow, but, hostess-like, she wished him to stay on. In the cosy chat in the baf-pSrlour in the evening she assailed him with every kind of Battery she could think of—the fishing, the rowing, the sailing, the Celtic monuments in the neighbourhood the air, and tho scenery ; but it was of no use. He would "•■mb. but waived her argument aside" 0 AU a 'sUh e n l( J: abold strak(J fo'' ."ortune. "You will pardon My ve.J srent5 rent rudeness,"she said, blushing; "but I have been noticing co many times since you came what a very tiny foot you have—more like a lady's than a man's." It is delightful to see a woll'shot arrow reach the bull's-eye —and that shot did. The man, who, to do him justice, possessed nn exquisite foot, broke out into smiles. He was fairly con quered. He accepted thosoftimpeachment,. and—stayed a fortnight longer. This is but one of hundreds of illustrations which might be given of the pride we take in our feet! Whatever sort of feet we filay possess, we are* very sensitive about them. We all, of course, despise persons who boast of small feet, biit we do not object to have them ourselves, and if nature has not so endowed us, and our feet happen to be undeniably large, then we only go in for another kind of foot-beauty, and congratulate oursslven oii their being well shaped. It is true that the author of "John Bull and His Island" says "That, we feiglishirten have long, broad, flat, and heavy foot {" Put then ho is only a foreign*, Now; there must bo a reason for this, independently of the mere pride of personal beauty, and tho reason is not far to seek. Wo have convinced our selvos that it is becauso the foot, of all our bodily possessions, is) til? moßt sensitive and truest index of emdtion. , Tho foot, as an index of emotion, haQ hao. far too little attention paid to it. This is the more remarkable, and the more to be regretted, because, while emotion expressed by the eye, the hands, the features, and tho voice, may possibly be affected, that ex libited through the feet is invariably sincere. The ladies, who are so much cleverer than men, havo long been in possession of thin secret, which appears to have eluded the grasp of the malo mind. With them, how ever, it is an intuition rather than a formulated creed. Tho reason why ladies wear long dresses is really founded on this intuition. Directly a girl arrives at the age of ten she begins to aspire to dresses which shall cover her feet; and why ? The shallow-minded suppose it is because she is aping tho grovvn woman. Not at all. It is simply that she is waking up to the law of fominine life—the necessity of concealing her feelings; and nature prompts her to cover up her feet, and so hide from the world those betrayers of her most seoret emotions. This may be a new thought to the roader, but a little reflection will con vince him that ours is tho true explanation. Note the demeanour of a young lady when she is conversing with a young gentleman. What does she do, when he begins to say ag.eoablo things, as young gentlemen will ? She gives one glance at his face, and then ■casts down her eyes. "Maiden modesty," thinks tho youth ; "I havo put her little heart in a flutter, she docs not know which way to look ; what a good impression I'm making!" He was never more mistaken in his lifo. The yomig lady casts down her eyes simply in order to look at his feet. By their attitude and movements she can read in a twinkling whether what tho gentleman is saying is genuinely felt or not—infor mation which she would in vain try to sjlean from his eyes or his lips. If her inspection of liis feet is satisfactory, if sho can observe there the crisping up of the foot within the boot, the nervous raising of the boot on one edge ; if she can note the almost imperceptible tattoo beaten by the heel on the floor, then she still koeps her eyes cast down, which naturally makes him continue mo:e \vni .nly than bsCoro. But if, on the con trary, tho feet aro imperturbable, she very properly argues that what is being said is a. mere compliment, so she looks up again and smiles at him. If he knew all this, he would not feel so much flattered as he generally does; so it is wisely concealed from him, and so the greatest happiness of the greatest number is secured. It is this distinction of dress, this guard which all women intuitively place ovor the betrayers of their inmost emotions, which gives women their undoubted superiority ovor men, and which has enabled them to subjugate them. This is the explana tion why in savage tribes, where the gar ments of the ladies recoil as far as possible from the feet, men are found to be the masters and tyrants, and why in Eastern countries, where thedualgarmentisinfavour, women aro little bettor than slaves. This should be a warning to all those ladies who are attempting to force upon their sex the bifurcation. If they succeeded in their object, they would only drop the substance for the sake of the shadow, and would force woman into subjection again.

Otlicr evidence of our general theory is not far to seek. Shakspero evidently ac cepted it. W-e all know what Rosalind says. When masquerading inArden Forest shu hears from Celia that young Orlando is hnnging around. " Alas the day ! What shall I do with my doublet and hose?" is her first thought, she being well aware, of course, that if Orlando saw her pretty feet they would betray her love on the instant ; so she desires nothing so much as to cover them up, and thus keep him in suspense, and plague him a little longer. The workings of instinct in this matter may be seen all around us. The clod hopper, who has few emotions to speak of, and those of the simplest character, encases his feet in the roughest and heaviest of boots; whereas the dweller in cities, whoso emotions are of a more complex charac ter, prefers to put on a light and elastic boot, which shall give more play to expression. Again, when a man is more light-hearted than ordinary, and conse quently more inclined to be effusive, and to permit the inner sentiments of his soul to be aeen by all the world, he changes his ordinary boots for a pair of very much slighter pumps, and dances about in them, so as to afford his feelings every variety of expression they can wish. As in the case of the girl, so with the boy; o,s soon as he comes out into the world, and becomes a little self-conscious, his first difficulty is the management of his feet. He cannot, as does the girl, ask mamma for a longer dress, and what to do with those awkward feet of his, those betrayers of his emotions, is his first real difficulty in life. Trace a man's pro gress in life, and we see that the last thing he obtains control over is hiR feet. A hypo crite in all else, he can make his eyes beam benevolence, and wreath his mouth with angelic smiles ; but his feet often persist in telling the truth in spite of him.

We are happy in the belief that the light on this subject is beginning to spread. We know, for instance, that already, as far as public applause and pecuniary rewards are safo indications, the most effective way of playing Hamlet is through the knees, and we are extremely glad to note the fact. This is a step in the right direction, a step towards the recognition of the truth that the only thorough and complete method of expressing the emotions is through the feet; and wo trust the day is not far distant when we shall have a Romeo whose ankles shall be his most active and suggeative exponents of the passion of early love, and a Macbeth whose toes shall crisp us into the most in timate appreciation of the feelings of the murderer. Practical gentlemen who pre side over the destinies of our popular bur lesque houses have long been consistent supporters of our doctrine. They might, if they chose, show philosophically why the exhibition of feet, to say nothing of supports of every possible shape, size, colour, and activity, tends to both sweet ness and light; they give us full view of those members which are most capable of convoying impressions, and though the impression conveyed may, at present, vary somewhat with the nature of the recipient, yet no doubt in time, when the theory has spread, ive shall all be at one as to tho in tellectual significance of entrechat pas de Gavroehe, or "walk round." So that the ambitious young lady in the song, who "wanted to twang the tambourine, and twiddle her little toe," had more warrant for bur aspirations than at first sight appears. She might well, by this oscillation of her phalange?, have intended to convey a multitude of ennobling ideas to the spectators, at all events, we may well give her the benefit of the doubt.—"Stan dard,"

If there is anything in choosing a short and easily-spoken title for a new paper, I cannot commend the choice of the pro prietors of the new trade organ lately started to promote the interests of the carving and gilding fraternity. It will in deed require more than ordinary enthusiasm on the part of a would-be subscriber to go into his newsagent in this age of high pres sure and ask for a copy of The Carver awl Gilder, Moulding Manufacturers' Gazette and Journal of Trades connected with Decorations and- the tine Arts!

DON'T DIE IN THE HOUSE.-" Rough on Eats" dears out. rata, mice, beetles, roaches, bed-bogs, files, ants, insect*,

NOTES FOR THE LADIES

(.SPECIALLY SKLECTED BY OCR LONDON

COItBESrOXDEST.)

Flounces are iesefved almost entirely for skirts made of lace or of ,«hot silk ; foiather costumes* the skftt is either tucket?, pltwted, or plairi.

Clover-red is a fashiohriH'3 for dresses in New York ; it is brigfitel t&'an crushed strawberry, and shows off white laoo and white shoulders to advantage.

Many of the new'wi f tfn^h bonnets of lace fll'e nia^e °f the very fashionable ftuipure do Genes of SO s 0.I"v'cea'''e a nature rtrf iii £>sar re-arranging many times, either for bonnets or mantles.

The striped voiles and mousselines dc lame, the soft embroidered voiles in lovely colours and equally lovely designs, are all fascinating, nnd will make most charming toilettes.

Now that plain skirts aro becoming fash ionable, mohair, too stiff a material to drape wellj is again coming to the .oro. Well made tip, it \" n serviceable and durable material, and m3k*3 excellent walking and travelling costumes.

A new tight-fitting jacket is of black jetted fabric, with the exception of the waistcoat and the back, which are of ottoman bordered with bretelles of black velvet, about three inches wide, diminishing at the waist, and then continued down the ba'scjuS tb' oht\ in bnndsofae jet pendants.

.Capotes are so snYas that they are of teft little mo'rp dhan a pretext or fd'und'attorr for tho rosettes,' flowers,' grasses', and jW'cts that compose their 6'rnamert'ts,' risingl fa many instances to an excessive height; etfen aidant flowers, suoh as sprays of white lilac1 iC. r instance, are tfJra'nged as aigrettes.

The choice of light fabrics is unlibSinHy large and varied this season, especially amongst washing materials, such as line embroided or printed lawns, the cambrics, tho muslins, printed or embroidered like the lawns, and tho lacea and embioidetiis pure and simple,

Black iilce dresses continue te bo very popular; tho corsfige is of lace ot of black brocade with a raised design1 in coloured velvet; the front is ornamented with a'black lace plastron over a coloured linirig, and bows of ribbon, in tke same shade as tHe lining and as tho velvet design, are nestled amongst the flcunce3 and folds of the dro.-a.

Jackets made of coi'duroy are popular with you'rig lftdles \ they are straight and lobSe in front, and fasts-fed with a single row of buttons, and very shtfrt and. neatly tight-fitting at the back. Thtey are finished olf rounti the edge with an incH-wide nerd; and below this is a' second basque of the same width as the hem. Thfs kind of jacket, either in corduroy or in beige Cloth', is worn with costumes of thick cloth as a rule, but is occasionally seen as an accompaniment to a lace skirt.

Many of the washing dresses for young girls are made with polonaises ; a pretty costume of plain and flowered sateen, more pretty than practical perhaps, has the skirt in panels of the flowered sateen divided by accordion pleats of plain sateon. The polonaiso is of the flowered sateen and draped high on one side with a not bow of satin ribbon ; a full plastron of plain sateen ends under tho drapery of the tablier, which is folded across the front as if it covered the edge of the corsage.

The principal spring shades, in (Materials of all kinds will be reseda—verdigris, peacock-green, China red, greys of blue or pink tendencies, ash grey, dove gery, wall flower, Turkish maize, mastic tint, and light grenat. The shades known as " mastic " are those of the crayons used in chalk drawings ; mastic green, especially, is a lovuly tint; pisfciche green, that of the bean of that name, is also a great favourite in'velvet, satin, or rich silks, and is found to'b'.eiid with several others most harmon iously.

Two new materials that have lately appeared may be added to the already lengthy list of fabrics for summer toilettes. Ono ot these is Ninghia etamine, a rather rough and even coarse-looking tissue, but exceedingly light, and, what will be a very great advantage in the eyes of most ladies, not likely to become too popular and com mon. It is woven in one colour only, or in two colours to produce a shot effect. Leia jaspc. is a closer and rather thicker fabric of a similar description, and equally original and uncommon. Both these are usually employed for the polonaise or tunic and coisage, over a tucked skirt of shot silk.

In coloured materials for useful cos'.umej tho variety is endless ; for cold or rainy days fancy cloths in checks or stripes, or with raised spots in imitation ot the chonille spotted cashmere. These cloths are made up into neat skirts such as we have described, with'or without draperies, and worn with smart little jackets plainly made of the same cloth. Nothing can be neater or more ladylike than this style of dress for morning walks or shopping expeditions. A small close-shaped hat or bonnet of straw matching the dress in colour should be worn to complete the neat appearance of the costume.

Capotes are worn extremely small, bor dered all round with a full gathered border of velvet, which is further trimmed with a fall of somo fancy lace, or a sort of network of small flowers, and a cluster of the same is posed on the left side. Beige velvet is much employed, as it is a neutral kind of cjlour, with which almost any flower com bines. Besides capotes, there are still some bonnets made in the Recamier and Cnapeau Empire style, as some ladies find these shapes more becoming, and conse quently prefer them to any other. Manilla straw is mostly employed for these, as it can so easily be bent to any desired curve to suit the face, and milliners arrange it on the head as will be most becoming.

""Board leather bolts are coming in aga:», and also the gauze ribbons of years gone by. Some are plain, others with satin hues, and, others with minute rosebuds 'in pink, red or pale blue. Tulle ball skirts are sneir cled with as many as nine or ten rows of gauze ribbon, graduated from the waist downwards, the back being all bouilloned, with bows of the ribbon down one side. Cups are trimmed with the " love " ribbon, once so popular, and for so many years never seen; and crepe and tulle fete bonnets have smart bows and rosettes of it. Silk handkerchiefs, in all colours, have strange devices at some of the corners, such as a helmet with the vizor down, a coat of arms, a long green lizard, jockeys on horseback, &c. Pretty chenille scarves have coloured roses worked into them.

There is the usual variety of styles for hats and bonnets, both large and small; and in almost every case where there is a prevail ing colour for dress goods, the straws and chips have been dyed to match; therefore it is the correct thing now for the hat or bonnet to match the costume with which it is intended to be worn. The new shades of bege or creme, mushroom, or buff, are all favoured. Where a light hat is required thetrimmirigsareprincipallyflowersarranged with a quantity of long field grass, or wheat, and aigrettes ; feathers are dispensed with, or only employed for extra dressy toilettes. The darker shades of straws when matching the dress ore trimmed with moderately wide ribbon, and a number of pretty orna ments, such as butterflies or curious-looking insects. " m The new heavy-ribbed ottoman silk, generally reserved for mantles, is now em ployed as panels and artistic draperies in c .njunction with soft woollen orsilken goods, with excellent effect Very handsome are the redingotes of this black ottoman silk, worn over satin skirts, the front covered with a series of lace flounces ; these red ingoteß, as we have before mentioned, extend almost to the edge of the dress, so tliat the skirts should be madeexpressly to wear with them, and require only a full flounce at the foot all round, and the re mainder of the trimming carried up the front. Quite a fashonable style of skirt; for young girls is the deep kilt very finely pleated in imitation of the accordiac, and ex tending the entire length of the skirt,, no draperies, and worn with shortbasquebodice or the new embroidered jersey. Another similar style of skirt has box-pleats instead of kilts, on the upper fold of each pleat a set of fine braid macooons graduated in size towards the top of the skirt.

Wise Folly.—" For ten years my wife wbb confined to her bed with sucn a complication of ailments that no doctor could tell what waa the matter or cure her, aiid I psed up a small for tune in humbug stuff. Six months ago I saw an American flag with Hop Bitters on it. and I thought I would be a fool once more. I tried it, but my folly proved to bo wisdom. Two bottles cured her, she is now as well and strong as any man's wife, and it coat me only two dollars."— H,W.,Detroit, Mich. Read.

ENGLAND'S ALLEGED COM MERCIAL SUPREMACY.

It is no uncommon thing to see in tiro'

columns of free-trade papers such comment aa this, taken from a morning contemporary of a recent date :--

vFesee m tho unfriendly legislation 0/ (Sonnany an* France the evil effects of a high {n-otcctive policy. We cim trace to the saivrc causes the ruinous dccKrt'e of American commerce. Ine bliKhtins effects of war taxation nre visible m a thousand .directions, and what isnvust continue fer b.e unless Congress OToVides a1 remedy thrj'.'trh revenue reform, nmed by liberal com mercial (r«'»ties aiid the leftitimato extension of our trade by s€« and land. Only in tms way can the barriers tii bUt prosperous growth and development be broken fIW*W.-

It is not our intention to J»?nt; out or eirtpHajrfiW the fact that the " unfriendly legislation " of Germany and France is not dud id a! desire to Retaliate on the Americans for having adopted a protective policy. Those who have' pafd" atteiition to the sub ject know that it .ftr tfe' result of the protective systems of the fourif -lies' referred to,ttnd might have been ■ expected eVcii if the United States were a frep-traae rtatfoh'.- What we particularly desire to call atten tion to ia the stress laid upon what is terhied " tho minous decline of American commerce." We assume this to refer solely to the fact that the ocean freighting busi ness of the United States lias not made the same growth as that of Great Britain and several other European Powers. In no oti'e* bfHiich of American commerce has there b6V.'nf « decline. On the contrary, since the addpiiort at a high protective tariff American prtisitetity lias been phe nomenal. And we infer from* thfe that if it were desirable or profitable to' control the ocean carrying trade, American capffel' awef energy would soon dispute supremacy -WJtli' ; GfreMfßritain in this as they have in manj-' :othjjffi«kte, ! There wa's li tiffite, perhaps, when the> 1 oceaW caYrying tr*te w«b a prize wortli | . str^'iiig after.- At thffi-. ikrte Americans 1 wer.o fothvcV \\lhb wei'e willfog' to WiM ships and cbinpeten-* to fun' thtem1. Hat the Wank jof developing the fr^mtelifeift' reSolire*e? of the t'nitpd States has opehttl v(& so nSany" %rv fitableftl'Ms for the employmsjit of capital that the ehrSTfA American can Ix 3 jwVrdoneii for entering the*? and abandoning an industry which has hex\ vastly overdone and has become more and ritoe of a losing business year after year. In Bradtireet s of a recent date we find a Glasgow letter (May 23rd) which throws some light on tlio condition of the shipping business of Great Britain :—

fife SseWcftslle scheme for improving freights by restrletirttftfK? supply of competing tonnage has collupaeil,' for the good and sufficient reason ihffi it lid's. nx>t deceived the necessary aWountoYsmSport from'the'siiipownora of the United KlhgtfQip.-. According W.tto) sp»emf-.2» por car*. 6?. touring stc.inSfeMfe WMT to \>e withdrawn teiii compbtitiih' aiitf laid' up in port but the m*V#ii<Snt Was nbt to assu*ifr a practical shape uMsf 1500 stcannors werft entened on the books (It the ptopOtafd AsStoem' lion On tho day n:ced for tfi« plan; coming into Deration, it WM found thrttjjjf '^ite 1000 tfefflOTCil/ n.nUc°p tated efrom"the first, the Sstemtf ■ Baa pflchid in failure. The impossibility « "SrW'Wg Wt »h« arrangement was palnabld tm rife teghifiiMf, and the result wjjf not eduso rtMttH surprise, .... That the pr^ent state' oT irtatos « flnrgatis/aetory is admitted on all lYfinW, bvit.sMtmWneWj Jnust make up thiir min&continue'Wf fUtihs ott* sTii ™l? and leave the depression to ** out its own X. Mit insure todo 'Ac naturalfammd must arise before Weight ctfn get hlghor. In the meuiitimo much maybe dtoe toi avoid tosses and increase dividends b>; a chttap«<iing of the cost of ships and a rigid CcohoWy Ire steamship runninff. This state of affairs certainly does not hold out any extraordinary inducement* to Americans to atteWpt to supplant tiio English in this particular business. Here is a plain proposition to retii«J»s per cent, of the steamship tonnage of the United Kingdom, because unwholesome compfew tion'lias multiplied vessels of that class beyond the requirements of trade. It was only recently that the owners of sailing vessels succeeded in perfecting an agree ment by wliich 33J pef cent, of the tonnage of tk'.t j)la«is Will lay up until the freighting deWaflil c«irle"s dbt&ist With the supply. These fdcfe derrio'nstfate1 ccmcfldsively that the shipping business of the United Kiiig dom is not profitable nteordirig to American riotioiis. It is true tHat nltich of the'money invested by the English in silfp* migKt have fou'rtd no other oinpLoyrrient, but we have not yet arrived at that stage of development in America' where it is prefer able to put capital into enterprises that at best only promise to pay nojnirial dividends, and which often eat up $he investment. . It is true that some remedy is propomt by which the shipowners' losses may be dniiiii ished and hopes of slight returns held out, but this remedy is worth attentive' consider ation. A part erf it is'rigid economy fn the running of ships. It is notorious that British economy has succeeded in reducing the wages of seamen so far below those paid to American seamen that stringent regula tions are necessary to prevent desertions from English fillips oh entering American ports. It is equally well known that the rigid economy at present practiced by Eng lish shipowners is responsible for the under manning of English ships, and that the result of this is the loss tof human life. So notorious is this that a bill is now pending in Parliament, the object of which is to place some restraint on the cupidity of the British shipowner. The debate on the. bill has brought out the interesting fact that the loss of life on Italian ships is 1 in every 454 who go to sea, iri Norway 1 in 277, and in England lin 66. The bill is opposed by the shipowners on the ground that any re gulation would be an interference with vested rights, but Labouchero truthfully remarks that the vested rights in this ca66 are to make money by drowning sailors by sending them to sea in undermanned and rotten ships. The policy of England has been to extend her bommeree by fair means or foul. The immense national debt of Great Britain was largely piled up in the effort to control the commerce of the world. The blood of hun dreds of thousands of Englishmen has been shed for the same purpose, and now, accord ing to English editors and lawmakers, they are drowning their sailors with the same object in view. The policy of the United States has not been commercial. With the exception of the war forced on the country by the lust of,the slaveholders for territory, alt our wars have been for the maintenance of principles. The true policy of the coun try has been to develop the magnificent resources of the States and Territories, and this has been steadily adhered to by the Republicans. It was in pursuance of this policy that the protective tariff was retained, and by ite aid the country has made phe nomenal strides and attained a position which has filled with amazement the obser vant men of the Old World. How puerile seems the free-traders' assertion, quoted in the beginning of this article, that "the blighting effects of war taxation are visible in a thousand directions," when placed by the side of Gladstone's comments on the growth of the United States. In his article in the North American Review, published in October, 1878, entitled "Kin Beyond the Sea," hesiid: "While we [Great Britain] have been advancing with this portentous rapidity, the United States is passing us by in a canter. ... There can hardly be

England of the future that the daughter »t some no very distant time will, whether fairer or less fair, be unquestionably yet stronger than the mother." And the assertion that the United States is suffering a blight sounds strange by the side of Prince Bismarck's opinion expressed in the Reich stag on the 14th of May, 1882, when he said, " The success of the United States in material development is the most illustrious of modern times." And he added: "In my judgment the prosperity of America is mainly due to her system of protective laws." And he urged that Germany imitate the tariff system of the United States. His ad vice was acted upon, and Germany has en tered upon a career of prosperity such as the country has not heretofore experienced. The condition of all classes has been vastly improved and the revenues of the State are highly satisfactory. There is a curious ignorance manifested by the free-traders, who are dazzled by the proportions of Great Britain's ocean ton nage, concerning certain matters, as indica-1 tive of commercial greatness as the ocean carrj ing trade can possibly be. We refer to the internal shipping tonnage of the United States. By the census of 1880 the merchant tonnage of the United States, including ocean steam and sail craft, river steamers, etc., was 6,487,309 tons. In 1883 the merchant tonnage of Great Bntanvdid not exceed the total merchant tonnage of the Unfted States. It was only 6,956,856 tons in 1882, and since that year several hundred thousand tons of rotten ship tonnage have been stricken from the register. In the meantime the United States has gone on steadily constructing its coastwise, river, and lake steamers and sailing vessels. Ton for ton, the American merchant tonnage probably cost as much as that of the English ocean tonnage, and that it has done a greater amount of and a more profitable business is indisputable, for while much of England's tonnage is engaged in long-haul cheap work, the bulk of- American- tonnage is pushing the more lucrative business of short-hauls, which corresponds somewhat to the " quick sales and small profits of the tradesman." While in the shipping business we have more than kept abreast with Great Britain, only abandoning to it the unprofitable ocean carrying trade, we have outstripped that nation w railroading eaormouoiy.. Ie 1882

the railway operations of the two countries' * j compared as follows:— ' X.VPIO", ji| 3| S :|| i J| o," '' S n "'% : S g -,''..• O ' $M United States ,111^112 $U,5:W,a09,T8D- ?770,356,71P ■ .%■ j United Kngdinl jS^7_J,mi9ijm I 3>6,g5^ . IB j

Our free-trade contemporary will pro- I • balily regard these figure? m indicative of the blighting effects of competHibn, anil bei.'vf,< may al;o .?ce in M^ulhault's statetirent that. ' A the product of the manufacturing industry " j of the United States was greater, by nearly 1 1,500.000,000d015.-than that of the United; j Kingdom in 1880 — evidence that the -A counlT.v is going to the (logs—buti hw : ' alarm is not likely to be shared-by sensible people and patriotic Americans, who can, | only see in these facts that » safe pnblicr ( ■ policy must have been followed to bring; ~^l about such magnificent results.;. ' S:

Gladstone in Private Life.

1 sAY Mr Gladstone first; whew fee' mv about sfety years of age. Happening to sit very near him- at a dinner pariy, I had a. _'*, good opportunity of examining his appear- % anno closely, and of making mental note* , of his conversation. I had'heard him called -< a"sloven,"but it struck EWitbat ho was*- ;j> even scrupulously neat, from the arrange ment sf his already thinned lock* to- that of' , the small bouquet in his button bofc; and during the number of years that I hart the. good fortune of seeing him from ttaxe to :t| time the sa-ne care -was always apparent. ■'■•£ The'most noticeable point about Mr Glad- ;i sfione'is physique is his immense head, tS» m ex'lr&ftW development of the auperciliary ■ >, ridge, givitag hie dark eyes doubly tho ap pearance Of being deeply set.. I bad soen many photogrSpfer of the statesman, in all of which the likei»SkJ was striding, bat all ffl of which more or less exaggerated pecn- ffl ■ liarities, and gave the Isjprcssion of a re markably plain, almost a rOpnMye person > - ; whereas at the period to which I refer.ho^ was really a handsome man ;,thtf women all thought so, and with their her>">-worship thero mingled a good deal of perso.w ad miration. Mr Gladstone affected no '■ mysterious reserve in speaking of the -J| molitical questions ot the day ;he wasfran.* g and evidently sincere. While avowedly the champion of the people, he occasionally I made' remarks of a startlingly Conservative character, I heard him say when some onu present spoks lightly of "weedingtlie Fppor House of the spiritual Lords:" , v' "Ko, no; not one bis'-.&p, could be .',,-i spared." ' -•' . |l He thought that itf schools " those . { r; youths should be class-mates whose similar , position in society would <W«ng them in SB contact later in life." '.-, He remarked quite earnestly, to a lady sitting beside him: "Tarn sorry y .iv Uka \ f% Cromwell -, I like Charles the First." jjs spoke with affectionate xeverence of ;j the *HJs£?nt Royal Family, evidently appre* ■£<& elating' nob only their public position, but ■•/ their private /irtues, V _ ' His manner, nevertheless, had a repubu- **:,- can simplicity, <?nd when a'chord was touched in which the* inalienable rights of ; man vibrated, his eye kinilfcd and flashed, -; while his tongue poured foflft aaeloquent .;;^ appeal, or protest, as it mignf- be, and he. ■' ; :.c<* showed himself a true Liberal. ,'■. _ ' > Mr Gladstone is loved by his fiends as•-.'■. firmly as he is hated by his enemies. Jn so- ■-~ eiety he is very popular, in a great"measure1 , ; ; because he assumes no air of superiority, is entirely free from arrogance, and novei' monopolies the conversation. He listen" -i patiently and even politely to "a bore, never showing* weariness. He is not at all nnwill-Vgjg ing thflt aaother star should shine;where ho ' : shines, a'tld up diversion of attention from |3 himself ever appears te awaken his uneasi ness. I was pfeswit on one occasion at a table at which the famous but. somewhat ■ ec entric Professor Biackie sat next but one : j* to Mr Gladstone. The professor, who is ,;,| very energetic and vociferous, _ J his arms while he was speakingy-and that so> im Wildly that alady who wassoated between tlio >_J two distinguished men had more |b.w onro";;-» to dr^w suddenly back to avoid his cl-Nii'-iii ! band striking her face. He intern..**"'" » Mr Gladstone's remarks several-time*. i^« '| interruption feeing borne with' perfoui"' ■' equanimity and met by a smMe, not "f', ?£• superiority, but of indulgence for tl«e '• f!cd- * JHtoxicated man." The subject under Ui»-1| cussion was one which J?otK men had i«Mch at hertrt-Greece and its niedern expli.i-i;w. Mr Gladstone told me that Jie ; t>p|M-r*>v-«il of every one doing a portion of m it labour—a practice whicb he hat< alwiiys ob- - | served himself and encouraged in tho^-u V, about him. To this habit a good deal of -■>'& tho vigour of his old age is doubtless due. * Speaking of his physical powers, he once - said to me: /: $% " I think I preserve my strength by hue- ;• banding it; if lam obliged to sit tip late at night I always rise proportionately Jate tlm -_>| following morning; and I never do, and -\?~> never have done, a stroke of trosi on Snn'SH : day." - ': . ':''3s& On another occasion we were discnssing .'-dmi the use and abuse of wine. He said, on f^f being questioned: : " '3 "When I am at mental work, I require and take a certain portion otwitKtf but I .j_ can, and do, work' hard with niy hands S while taking only waiter." .- . :;,^i Jt was generally at dinner-parties tfrat I < met the Prime Minister, and I noticed tlmt-1 .Jj he was a very moderate eater and drinker, ' : V'v yet without the leaßt affectation of abste- A minusness. The topic of discussion at. one, dinner- 'rf party which I remember was Bismarck, i For a time Mr Gladstone was'silent, then '■; suddenly turned to me, saying: "If Cavour had had ;the sanie theatre as '<& Bismarck he would have been a. more dis- S£.:| tinguixhed man." if? About liis tixty-eighth or . Bixty-ninth >'l year tho great statesman began to look old ; he did not stoop, hia step had hot lost firm ness, but his face became deeply lined, I furrowed and careworn, his eye Jess bright, rfwfi though it could still flash with suddenly lit -?& fire. Asa man there is none better living ; hia whole career in private life has been one of { ■ .•uiKtero virtue.—" LirjDincott's Magazine." ■•*.

How the Ku Klux Made Impres sions.

The Klan had a large membership; it exerted a vast and terrifying.power; but H its influence was never at any-time depen dent on, or proportioned to, its member- i, ship. It was in the mystery in which the comparatively few enshrouded themselves. ■ i It is an error to suppose that ; the entire . ; >£t male population of the South' were Ku i } Klux, or even a majority of the people ,|| were privy to its secrets and in sympathy ; with its extremest measures. To many of them, perhaps to a majority, the Ku Klu Klan was as vaguo, impoisonal, ami mysterious as to the people of the North, or '"{; >f England; they did—do to, this day— •'.'s ittrlbuto to it great good. : One or two incidents will illustrate the •}ff ' nrfethods resorted to to play'i upon thei'^VSj superstitious fears of the negroes and i£ ithers. At the parade in Pulaskj, while the . ~: procession was passing a corner on which v negro man was standing, a tall horseman in hideous garb turned aside from the lino, I dismounted, and Stretched out ijis bridle- '; rein toward the negro as if he desired him "jj to hold his horse. Not daring to refuse, the ,! ■ frightened African extended his hand to H grasp the rein. As he did so", the Ku Klux "I took his own head from his shoulders and '' offered to place that also in the Outstretched' "$ hand. The negro stood not upon the" order of his going, but departed with a yell of -•$ terror. To this day ho will tell you : " Hev?'sfi done it, suah, toss. I seed him do it." The gown was fastened by a drawstring ovor thgMf top of. wearer's head. Over this was worn ;'• an artificial skull, made of a large gourd or. of pasteboard. This, with Ilio hat, couW ; -iSi| be readily removed, and. Uio man : :is|i would then appear to be hesHless. Such:-,/Sj tricks gave nee to the belirf—still prey- ■ :J| alent among the negroes—that the Kuv.-M Klux could take themselves to -pinces when- -\M ever they wanted to. Some ot the Ku ,i jf lux carried skeleton hands . These were?i'*|Sß made of bone or wood, •with;.a wrist ■•■ handle long enough to be held^ln the haml, which was concealed by the sleevo of the ,' ?own. The possessor of on-B of thc-o was ..,; invariably of a friendly tur-a, and offered toSS shake hands with all he met^ with what-.'..* effect may be readily imag^nedr A trick of ".* frfequent perpetration in the .country was'1, i [or a horseman, spectral «nd ghostly-lpok^ll ing, to stop before the c *bin of some negro needing a wholesome i innression, and call ■" for a bucket of water. If a dipper or gou rd was brought it was, declined, and tho'l^ bucketful of water r'i«nanded.' As if con- -,' sumed by raging thirst, the horseman \ grasped it ai «l presied ■it ':]iiifM his lips. He held vit there till every, dropiW; of the water wastjoured into a gum or oilwl" sack, concealed \ /eneath the Ku Klux robo'..-?£ Then the empty bucket was returned to the , amazed negro, with the remark: "That fs i few words of counsel ,'is to fcitqro bohaviriß £jj«

THE AUCKUfID EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST bO, 1884.

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