"HAND AND RING,"

I3T Avv.v Katheuink (liikhv, Authorot " Tho Lcavenwort'n Murder," "Tho Sword of Damodes," "Tho Defence of the Prudo," etc.

CHAPTER XLIV (Coxtint&d). THE Willow (•r.EMMKXS. " Jitxk 10, 1872.—What's the use of having a home ? I declare I feel just like breaking down and crying, 1 don't want company : it women folks, they're always talking about ihoir husbands and children ; anl if men, they're always saying: 'My wife's thi- ami my wife - lhat.' But Ido want him. It's my right; what if I couldn't say throe words to him that was agreeable, I could loo!; at him and think: ' Ilussplendid gentleman is my husband, I ain't so much alone in the world as folks think. 111 put on my bonnet and run down tho street. I'orlmpa I'll see him sitting in the club house window !"

" Kvi-siNc— I hato him. Ho has a hard, cruel, wicked heart. When I got to the club-house window ho was sitting there, so 1 ju-t went walking by, and he saw me and came out and hustled me away with terrible words saying ho wouldn't have mo hanging round'whoro ho was ; that I had promised not to bother him, and that I must keep my word, or ho would sec me—he didn't say where, but it's easy enough to guess. So— .so .' he thinks he'll put an end to my coming to see him, does ho '! Well, perhaps he can, but if iie does, he shall pay for it by coming to see me. I'll not sit day in and day out alone without tho glimpse of a face 1 love, not while I have a husband in the same town with me. Ho shall come, if it is only for a moment each day, or I'll dare every thing and tell the world I am his wife."

"Ji'Sß 10, 1572. —Ho had to consent! Meek as I havo been, he knows it won't do to rouse me too much. So to-day he came in to dinner, and ho had to acknowledge it was a good one. Oh, how I did feel When I saw his face on tho other sido of tho table ! I didn't know whether I hated him or loved him. But I am sure now I hated him, for he scarcely spoke to mo all tho time he was eating, and when ho was through, he wont away just as a stranger would have done. He means to act liko a boarder, and, good ness me, he's welcome to if ho isn't going to act liko a husband ! Tho hard, selfish Oh, oh, I love him !"

"August 5, 1572. —It is no use; I'll Mover bo a happy woman. Trotnont has been in so regularly to dinner lately, and shown mo suoh a kind face, I thought I •would venture upon a littlo familiarity. It vras only to lay my hand upon his arm, but it made him very angry, and I thought ho would striko mo. Am I then actually hate ful to him ? or is ho so proud he cannot bear the thought of my having the right to touch him ? I looked in tho glass when he went out. lam plain nnd homespun, that's a fact. Even my red cheeks arc gone, and .tho dimples which once took his fancy. I shall never lay tho tip of a finger on him again."

"February 13, 1873.—What shall I coolc for him to-day 1 Something that he like?. It is my only pleasure to see how he does enjoy my meals. I should think they would choke him ; they dome sometimes. But men arc mado of iron—ambitious men, anyhow. Little they care what puttering they cause, so long as they havo a good time and get all the praises thsy want. He gets them more and more every day. He ■will soon be as far above me as if I bad married the President himself. Oh, some times when I thVnk of it.and remember he is my own husband, I Just feel as if some awful fate Mas preparing for him or me !" "Juxe 7, IS73.—Would he send forme if he was dying 'I No. He hates mo ; lie .hates me."

"Ski'temiikk S, IS74.—Craik was hero to-day ; he is just going North to earn a few dollars in tho logging business. What a keen eyo ho has for a boy of bis years ! I shouldn't wonder if ho made a powerful smart man some day. If he's only good, too and kind to Ms women folks, I sha'n't mind. Rut a smart man who is all for him eolf is an awful trial to those who love him. Dou't I know ? Haven't I suffered ? Craik must never be like him."

' "December 21, JS73,—Ono thousand dollars That's a nice little sum to havo put away in the bank. So much I get out of my husband's fame, anyhow. I think I ' will make my will, for I want Craik to havo -, :vhat I leave. He's a fino lad." -" February 19, 1870.—1 was thinking the otherdftj', suppose Ididdie suddenly. It would b- dreadful to havo the name of ','wmmoiis ptrt.onroy tombstone! But it would I'-1 Twmont would never let the truth be known, if lie kid to rifle my dead body for my marriage certificate. yVhat shall I do, then J Tell anybody who i 'tni? It seems just as if I coukln t. Either the whole vorld must know it, or just himself and me alone. Oh, I wish I Jiad never been born I" "Ji«E 17, 1576.-Why wasn't I made hmdWM nnd fine and nice? Think whei-s I would be if I was ! I d be m that £& house of his, cloying to all the grand folks as "O there. I went to see it last nteht » was dark as pitch in the streets, and I went into the gate and fll ftrpirod the l,ou«o I talked upon the piazza *co, and wooed my bands along the nnd un and down the doors. Its mighty taico a II of it, and ttere shan't be a square S on that whole ground that my foot shan'tV over., I aish I «mld get inside the house once." « Jew, 1, 1576.-I have done it, I went to sco Mr Orcutt's sister, I had a right. fei A he away, und isn't he my boarder, and dfalu't I «'ant to know when he was coming hornet She's a soft, good-natured piece, ami M ac peek into the library without say ng X "rd Wilt a room it is | I just felt » Wv <l Jjoen stock when I saw »t and like l\ Zggjp setting there, and all those spied his l < .the fine things on books heapec. -<, jixe pictures on the tho mantel-shei. ' <,j f. '&? jp such & place as walls. AVhat wou. ■<. e"ka#, but so could that ? I could keep h " q^ } i Oh, me ! any gal he might hire. ftqrfeaps if I wish he'd given me a chu v Jearfled jf# fee he had loved me I might have «^. pf his." quiet and nice like that silly si. jvornen i "January 12, 1877.—50m0 < -.'/^u would take a heap of delight in havin b 'know they were the wife of a great n. \. but I find lots of pleasure in being so with 'out folks knowing it. If I lived m his big i house and was called Mrs Orcutt, why, he -would have nothing to be afraid of and ,mi"ht do as he pleased ; but now he has to vio what / please. Sometimes, when I sit down of an evening in my little sitting room to sewi I think how this famous man whmn everybody is afraid of has to come Mdao In* as humble mo wants him to; BksrJ^szziiA <i\i,T,rw^f) 1577.— Gouverneur Hildreth is dead I Sinever be his victim, at any rate Shall I ever be tho victim of any body ' X don't feel as if I cared now For one kiss I would sell my life and die lm" IThcro is a young Gouverneur, but it will be years before he will be old enough to malce me afraid of him." ' « November 10, lb7S.—l should think *kat Tromont would be lonely in that big house of his. If ho had a heart he would. They say he reads all the time. How can fr.ll-- nore s.o over books? I can't. Id ather sit in my chair and think. What story in oil the books ia equal to mine?> " "ArniL 23, 1579.—1 am growing very ~,V,i : n m y ways. Now that Tremont settled in my y gatisfied not comes in almost e«y J. M y house affairs to see any othei co»^g- ,* ifc all nice Sm° iTalieve I could almost be happy • hnvTonly smile once in a while when lie t mv eve But he never does. Oh, S At our crosses, and he's a very great man." H tto a ball "X>:^- AR What does it mean? Ho never JSS tocare for things like that. Is there anygirlheteato-r bflen « FEBRUARY 6s 1880. U , riding With a lady, has • t next, town and he *no g l k But tbere s IM*W "^e himself sure of that, about; let huu wj^jf^ b gelina Pratt. I even know her «OM_! « fe Qut for a If he goes withjer^g^ h . s making taken it? I hair el ooked a BO b many desk where I have kept « wag Jeft years, but I cannot fioa n. other iilone in the: house^a few^^^ to rob day; could he have taKen that WB are me of *^?% pr h ° e ° h a S heis a villain at

cal.u ; for if ho didn't take it and should find out it is gone, he'd throw me off jußt as quick as if ho had. What shall I do then ? Something. He shall never marry another woman while I live."

" MAY :iO, 1888.—The Pratt girl is gone. If he cared for her it was only for a week, like in old love I could mention. I think I feel safe again, only I am convinced some ono oughfcto know my secret besides my self. Shall it bo Emily? No. I'd rather tell her mother."

"JuxK S), 1880.—I am going to Utica. I shall take these letters with me. Per haps I shall leave them. For the last time, then, let me say ' I am the lawful wife of Tromont Benjamin Orcutt, the lawyer who lives in Sibley, New York.' Wo were married in Swanson, Nevada, on the 3rd of July, ISG7, by a travelling minister, named Cleorgc Sinclair. "Mary Ann* Orcutt, Sibley, N.Y." CHAPTER XLV. MX GRYCK SAYS OOODJIYK. There still arc many raiubowa in your sky. —Byrok. " Hklkn ?" "Ye?, Imogene." " What noise is that. ? The people seem to be shouting down the street. What does it mean ?" Helen Richmond —whom we better know as Helen Darling—looked at the worn, fever-Hushed countenanco of her friend, and for a moment was silent; then she whispered: "I have not dared to tell you before, you seemed so ill ; but I cau tell you now, be cause joyful news never hurts. The people shout because the long and tedious trial cf an innocent man has come to an end. Craik Mansell was acquitted from the charge of murder this morning." "Acquitted ! 0 Helen !" " Yes), dear. Since you havo been ill, very strange and solemn revelations have come to light. Mr Orcutt——" "Ah!" cried Imogene, rising up in tho great armchair in which she was half-sitting md half reclining. "I know what you are going to say. I was with Mr Orcutt when he died. I heard him myself doclare that fate had spoken in his death. I beliovo Mr Orcutt to have been the murderer of Mrs Clemmens, Helen."

" Yes, there can bo no doubt about that," was the reply. " It has been proved thon!"

"Yes." Moved to the depths of her being, Imo gono covered her face with her hands. Presently she murmured: "I do not understand it. Why should such a great man as ho have desired the death of a woman like her! He said it was all for my sako. What did he mean, Helen ?" " Don't you know ?" questioned tho other,

anxiously. " How should I ? It is the mystery of mysteries to mo." "Ah, then you did not suspect that she was his wife ?" " His wife !" Imogono rose in horror. " Yes," repeated tho little bride, with de cision. " She was his lawfully weddoti wife. They wero married as long ago as when we were lille children." "Married! And he dared to approach me with words of love ! Dared to offer him se'' to me as a husband while his hands wore still wet with tho life-blood of his wife ! O, the horror of it! Tho amazing wickedness and presumption of it!" " Ho is dead," whispered tho gentlo littlo lady at hor side. With a sigh of suppressed feeling, Imo gene sank back. " I must not think of him," she cried, ''lam not strong enough. I must think only of Craik. Ho has been acquitted, you say—acquitted." " Yes, and tho whole town is rejoicing." " A smile, exquisite as it was rare, swept like a sunbeam over Imogene's lips. " And I rejtiico with tho rest," sho cried. Then, as if she felt all speech to be a mockery, she remained for a long time silent gazing with eyer-dpepening exprosrion into the space beforo her, till Helen did not know whether the awo sho felt creeping over her sprang from admiration of her com panion's suddenly awakened beauty or from a recognition of the depths of that companion's emotions. At last Imogene spoke: " How camo Mr Manscll to bo acquitted' Mr Gryce did not toll me to look for any such reinstatement as that. The most he bade me expect was that Mr Ferris would decline to prosecute Mr Mansell any further, in which event he would be discharged." "I know," said Helen, " but Mr Mansell was not satisfied with that. He demanded a verdict from the jury. So Mr Ferris, with great generosity, asked tho Judge to recommend the jury to bring in a verdict of acquittal, and when the Judge hesitated to do this, the foreman of the jury himself rose, and intimated that he thought the jury were ready with their verdict. The Judge took advantage of this, and the result was a triumphant acquittal." " 0 Helen, Helen !" "That was just an hour ago," cried the littlo lady, brightly, " but the people are not through shouting yet. There has been a great excitement in town those last fow

"And I knew nothing of it!" exclaimed Imogene. Suddenly she looked at Helen. " How did you hear about what took place in the courtroom to-day?" blio asked.

"Mr Byrd told me. "Ah, Mr Byrd?" ." JJe flame ta leave a good-bye for you. He goes ijome this afternoon.'1 "I should Uks to havo seen Mr Byrd," said Imogene. "Would you?" queried the little lady, quietly shaking her head.' '' I don't know ; I think it is just as well you did not see him," said she. But elis made no such demur when a little while later Mr Gryce was announced The fatherly old gentleman had evidently been in that house before, and Mrs Richmond was not the woman to withstand a man like He camo immediately into the room where f mogene was sitting. Evidently he thought as HeJpn did, that good news never "" Well I" ho cried, taking her trembling hand in his, with hi* most essprpssivo smile. " What did I tell you! Didn't I say that if you would only trust mo all would come Hgfcfc ? And it has, don't you see ? Kignt as a trivet.'"' , , T "Yes " My* -eturne d; 'and 1 never can find'words wit?? jyhich to express my KU. YoiTW epyed two lives, Mr \vrei his— and mjne.'' b %l&i Brjoii !" cried the defective good '•«dly-''You mustn't thlnl; too humou. ,^.-y£jjjng £ fraye done. It was the much of v ■-fljgt djd &j» business. If Mr falling limb c j,^ j^n awakened Orcutt's consx rfeathi j u no w i by the stroke , v§ b^n tQ.fay, Affairs , where wo should tux -^ nretty difvK for | were beginning to ■*"» 1 i Mansell." m <■ Bah !" cried Mr Gryce, »be had amuch Victtfir reason than that. And with the air of one who wishes, to. clew up all misunderstandings, he told her the Swords which her lover had overheard Mrs Clemmens say when he came up to her "^'eS'orimogene was very great. Hoping to hide it, she turned away her face, fhowingm this struggle with herself some thing of the strength of her old days. Mr Gryce watched her with interest. " It is very strange," was her first remark. " I had such reasons for thinking him guilty ; he such good cause for thinking mo so. What wonder we doubted each other ? And yet I can never forgive myself for doubting him; lean sooner forgive him for doubting me. If you see him "If / see him!" interrupted the detective, with a smile. "Yes," said she. "If you see him tell him that tinogene Dare thanks him for his noble conduct towards one ho believed to be stained by so despicable a crime, and assure him that I think he was much wore justified in his suspicions than I was in mine for there were weaknesses in my character which he had ample opportunities for observing, while all that I knew of him was to his credit." " Mi*s Dave," suggested the detective, » couldn't you tell him this much better y>f t(>»u nofc have the °pp°rtunity'"Bhe the lasUime I was called to the stand has created a barrier between herself and all earthly friendship. Even he for whom I Mriuied myself bo basely cannot overleap [he gulf I dog between na two that day."

" IJtih that is hard," Baid Mr Gryce, " .My life is hard," she answered. The wise old mar, who had reon so much of life and who knew the human heart co well, smiled, but did not reply. He turned instead to another subject. " Well," he declared, " the great case is over ! Sibley, catisfied with having mado its mark in the world, will now rent in peace. I quit the place with somo reluct ance myself. 'Tia a mighty pretty spot to do business in." " You aro going ?" she asked. "Immediately," wan the reply. "We detectives don't have much time to rest." Then, as he saw how deep a shadow lay up on her brow, added, confidentially: "Miss Dare, we all havo occasions for great regret. Look at mo now. Honest as I hold myself to be, I cannot blind myself to the fact that I am the possible instigator of this crime. If I had not shown Mr Orcutt how ; a man like himself might perpetrate a murder without rousing suspicion, he might never have summoned up courage to at tempt it. For a detective with a conscience, that is a hard thought to bear."

"But you were ignorant of what you wero doing," she protested. " You had no idea there was anyono present who was meditating crime." " True; but a detective shouldn't bo ignorant. Ho ought to know men ;ho has opportunity enough to learn thorn. But I won't be caught again, Never in any company, not if it is composed of the highest dignitaries in the land, will I over tell again how « crime of any kind can bo perpotrated without risk. One always runs the chance of encountering an Orcutt."

Imogene turned pale. "Do not speak of him," she cried. "Iwant to forget that such a man cer lived."

Mr Gryce smiled again.

"It is the best thing you can do," said he. " Begin a new life, my child ; begin a new life."

And with this fatherly advice, he said goodbye, and sho saw his wise, kind face no more.

The hour that followed was a dreary one for Imogene. Her joy at knowing Craik Manscll was released could not blind her to the realisation of her own ruined life. In deed, sho seemed to feel it now an nover before ; and as tho slow minuter passed, and she saw in fancy tho (strong figuro of Mansi.ll surrounded by congratulating ad mirerd and friends, tho full loneliness of her position swept over her, and she knew not whether to bo thankful or not to tho fever for having spared her blighted and dis dishonourod life.

Mrs Richmond, soeing her so absorbed, mado no attempt at consolation. Sho only listened, and when a Btep was heard, arose and went out, leaving the door open behind her.

And Imogeno mused on, sinking deeper and deeper into melanckoly, till tho tears, which for so long a time had boon dried at their source, welled up to her eyes and fell alowly down hor chocks. Their touch seemed to rouso hor. Starting erect, sho looked quickly around as if to see if any body was observing her. But the room seems quito empty, and sho is about to .sink back again with a sigh when her eyes fall on the door-way and .she becomos transfixed. A sturdy form is standing there! A manly, oager form in whose beaming eyes and tender smilo shine a lovo and a purpose which opou out beforo her quite v different future from that whielt her fancy had been so ruthlessly picturing.

[the kni>.]

SALVATION ARMY WEDDING.

A Curious Ceremony.

Is tho Protestant Hall, CaHtlorcagb-gtroot, Sydney, tho other night, " Stall- olticer '• Dennis and " Captain " Lizzio Wnrrington were publicly united in the " bonds of holy matrimony." Tho hail was crowded in tho lewer part, anil a pretty thick sprinkling of spectators occupiod the gallery, all of whom, it is to bo presumed, paid Gd for admission. The campaign was oponed by Captain Pur null " singing," in stentorian tones, " Come where the living waters tlow." The ehorun was sung by noarly all prosont, and the bnnd, which numbered about 30 performers, headed by bandmaster Lowia, played a verse through alternately with tho singers. The captain earnestly exhorted tho audienco to sing with all their hearts, and they re sponded to tho invitation by inflating their lungs to their utmost capacity. "Major" Clara Lindsay then stepped forward and gave out Salvation hymn No. 01, and as the refrain was suntr in a rather irregular man ner, sho stated that tho brothers wero to ask the sisters, who wero to answer in a bunch, and tho question, "Are you ready ?" power fully enunciated by tho male voices followed by the females with as hearty an answer, "Yes, I am, hallelujah !" was given with startling dramatic cfl'ect. Prayers woro then said by several olHcers, interrupted by shouts from various parts of the hall of "Hallelujah," "Glory to His name," &c. When this part of the ceremony was con cluded tho band struck up "Marching to Emanuel's land," gloriously ootof tune and with no particular attention to time, tho object apparently being for cacli performer to "routthe devil" by making as much noise as possible. It can be readily under stood that if his Satanic Majesty has an ear attuned for music he would fly howling to

hide himself in the lowest depths. Dr. Johnson defined music as " the least objec tionable of noises ;" but then ho had never heard -a Salvation Army band. Deputy- Major Lindsay then read one of David's warlike psalm?, after which ho called upon Staff-officer Dennis and Captain Lizzio War rington to step forward to the front of the platform,and administered the oath to them separately in the form common in the law courts. They then solemnly affirmed that they knew of "no lawful impediment why they should not be joined together in holy matrimony." Tho usual Church of England service was then repeated, with the addition that the bride and bridegroom pledged themselves separately and conjointly to help the Army to their utmost power. Tho ring was put on the bride's finger, and Deputy-Major Lindsay holding his hand over their heads, said, "In tho name of God and the Salvation Army, I declare you man and wife." Acting Colour-sorgeant Thorn, who had from the time the couple first knelt down held llio flag over their heads, now waived it energetically over the whole stage, and the audionce having been called apon by Captain Purncll, sang " Under the Army Flag, We'll Fight our Way to Glory," the drummers being called upon at tho end of each verse to "fire a yolley," which they did with deafening effect;. Prayer was again engaged in, and then more singing was indulged in, and the ceremony was concluded with a feu dt joie from the drums, mingled with *houte of "Hal lelujah." The whole performance pre sented some eurioue features, and was only saved from being a burlesque by tho evident sincerity of the proceedings. During the singing and praying, men and women with their eyes elosod an'dapparently "lifted out of themselves" waved then arms, and shouted with an abandon Impos sible to describe. Just before the meeting dispersed, J)eputy-Major Lindsay said that Owtaiii Lizjsifi Warrington had gone, and nobody had bid her good-bye, although they must have Jjnown that they wftuld never see her again ; but lie asked them to welcome Mrs Captain Dennis in her place. The bride said a few words in a low tone, and then the bridegroom said that aa salvation weddings are unlike worldly marriages, no broomsticks would be required to keep either himself or his wife in order. Mrs ifajor Lindsay exclaimed that "the closer thesr were knitted together the closer they were footed to God;" and the bride, who wore a darjt-floloured dress and salvation bonnet, was cordially greeted by those in the body of the" ball on descending from tho platform. Thfl whole audience formed into procession, and, headed by the bond, marched out of the bujlding, and soon afterwards melted away.

A Curious Will.

A will is now under litigation in the Paris Courts, the heirs pleading that the testator was of unsound mind. It runs as follows : —"I possess a fortune of TO.OOOf. How raany tears, lies, and acts of treachery could I have purchased with such a sum ? I first of all thought of bequeathing these 70,000f. to the Assiotance Publique; but said to myself, ' What for ?' The real beno factors of humanity are war and the cholera. Besides, I have a debt of grati tude to pay my dear wife, GVlestine JiWlanie, who lives Heaven knows whore. " t . She did me the greatest service I could Ijaye' expected from her, that of leaving me ova ope morning and never turning lip flgais- Qty °f remembrance for that good action I appoint her my universal legatee. However, 1 attach a specfal clausts to.the legacy, and thafc js, that she gets married again directly the legal period has expired. In this manner I am sura my death will be regretted by at least one man." .... Immediately after nis signature, "Dr Vincent L ," comes the postscript, "Who cannot reproach himself with ever having saved the life of a single patient."

JENKINS & CO.; OR, THE EGOTIST.

A NOVEL, by E. WKRNER.

(Specially Translated for the Auckland Star from tho German by S. Nicholson),

Author of "Student's Manual of German Literature," " Chronological Guide to English Literature," &o.

CHAPTER I.

.IKKMIK AND HKR GUARDIAN.

It was tho afternoon of a sunny day in spring. Tho deep peacofulnoss and quiet nowhere to be found in the groat seaport ruled undisturbed around a country house outside the great sea of roofs, whoso park like grounds stretched down to tho shore It was one of those elegant and luxurious villas inhabited by rich citizens who wished to avoid tho noise of the town, yet did not care to loss time by travelling long dis tances. In the drawing-room, the French windows of which opened into the garden, a lady and gentleman were engaged in earnest con versation. The cheeks of the young girl glowed wltli excitement as sho struggled with suppressed tears, while tho man ap peared perfectly calm and indifferent. Ho was a middle-aged man, with grey hair, and cold, stem features, whoso whole exterior spoke the man of business. Tho freezing indifference of his manner never altered for v moment, oven in tho most animated discussion, while his way of speak ing was dry and businesslike, without any warmth of language.

" Koully, Jessie, 1 am weary of hearing again and again the old argumonts and the old laraontations," ho said. "As your guardian and kinsman I have undertaken the charge of your future, and I think the futuro I oiler you is surely attractive enough. But a girl with a foolish romantic head like yours novcr will neo what in con ducivo to nor real happiness."

The girl's foolish romantic liead was at any rate not wanting in attractions. With out boing regularly beautiful, the blonde hair, soft but expressive features, and the blue, somowhat enthusiastic eyes, were ex traordinarily fascinating. At this moment, however, the youthful face was lit up with passionato omotion, and the same emotion quivered in her voico as she answered :— " My happinoss ! What you call such, Uncle Sandow, is very far from baing my ideal of happiness." " You will perhaps oxplaln to mo, then, what hazy and fantastic ideas the world reprcsonti to you ?" said Sandow in his most sarcastic tone. "Happiness I* a brilliant position in society, supported by wealth, at the aide of a husband who would bo your resource in all circumstances. This is offered you with the hand of a man

" Whom I have novor seen," interrupted

Jessie,

" But you will sou him in an hour. More over my brother is not v stranger to you, though you have never ween him. His portrait leaves nothing to bo desired in externals, and you have yourself told mo that you liuvo no inclination olsewhoro. Thorefore why thin obstinato opposition to a connection for which Gustav is so ready}"

" Just because he is so ready ! I cannot and will not trust my future to a man who does not hositato a moment to consider be fore ho throws over his self-chosen profes sion, his career so brilliantly commenced, his people, or his native land, when a pros pect of a wealthy marriago is held out to him."

Sandow shrugged his shoulders. "These are tlio exaggerated vioitß en couraged by your German education. You wero sontimontal enough by nature. Self choflen profession indoed I Brilliant caroer ! You seem to have a high opinion of tho position of a Gorman journalist. Gustav's pen is admired and sought for just 80 long an tho whim of tho public and the present position of politics last. Sooner or later that will have an end, and his career be over. Here in America ho ie offered in dependence, wealth, and an enviable posi tion as head of a great houso of businoss. He would bo worse than a fool to reject all this to go on writing leading articles."

"That is a matter of taste; but I can assure you, Uncle Sandow, that it is just the same to mo whomsoever you maychooso for a partner, so long as you do not include me in your business arrangements."

"I do ft jn your own interest. You know it was your Author's wish that your fortuno should remain in the business. Ho always hoped that his position there would bo taken by a son-in-law. It was not granted to him to Hue hia wish fulfilled whilu fie lived."

" Isio," murmured Jessie, " for ho would not havo had the hoart to force my inclina tions as you aro doing."

Sandow made an impatient movement,

" What an exaggerated expression I I am not thinking of force in any way, but I do desire that you will listen to reason, and not reject thin alliance without reflection simply bocauso it does not fulfil your romantic ideals. You are now nineteen, and must begin to think of matrimony. Ideal marriages such as you dream of do not exist. To ovoryono who sues for your hand your fortune will play the principal part. The days of disinterested lore are long ago over, and if anyone should play off that comedy for your benefit, he will only do it that he may havo more power to squander your money afterwards. It is better that you should see clearly now, that the disillu sion may not bo so hard to you as it vrould be later."

There was incredible hoartlessness in the iron coldness with which he recommended this step to his ward, which to a maiden's hoart is glorified by all the illusions, dreams, and hopes of the happy future, and which he set forth as an example in arithmetic, her fortune being the factor. Jessie's lips trembled with emotion at this pitiless prognostication, for the unhesitating decision with which it was laid down convinced her that Sandow was merely stating his own convictions. She had already found out what It moant to be a rich catch, and thus attract the selfish ness and calculations of all the people with whom she came in contact Her guardian, too, it seemed, only saw and respected in her the heiress—a bitter thought for a young girl longing with a passionate heart for love and happiness. "You havo nothing of that sort to fear here," continued Sandaw, who took her silence for some measure of consont. "This match offers equal advantages. Gustav with you receives a fortuno and an excellent position in the commercial circles hero ; you remain a partner in your father's business, and have the security that your wealth will be guarded and increased by your own husband. The affair is so clear and simple that I really cannot compre hend your obstinate opposition, and the lees because you used to be so interested in Gustav. You always read his articles with ever recurring enthusiasm." " Because I believed in the writer ! Be cause I could not think that all this glow ing patriotism, all this enthusiasm for the grand and beautiful, meant only phrases, which could be thrown overboard at the call of self-interest." "The knights of the pen live by fine phrases," said Sandow impatiently. "It is their business. It would be a bad case for them if they had to turn all their words in todeods. Gustav wroteas hisposition and the spirit of the age demanded of him, and now he acts as reason demands of him. If he did not, I should not take him as a partner. But lot us end this dispute. Ido not press for a decision either to-day or to-morrow, but"! fibnfidentfy expect your decision to ba aoonsent," ' , "Never !" cried Jessie with flashing eye?. "I will never belong to a man who takes me merely as a clause in a business contract an egotist, who uses all that is dear and sacred to others as a means to his end. Neither now nor ever !" Sandow took very little notice of tins passionate protest. If Jessie had been hia daughter, he would simply have given her his orders, and obliged her to obey them ; but he knew the limits of a guardian's power too well to try such measures here. He knew, however, that his long-continued and dreaded authority had a sort of influence over the young girl, and he was determined to use it. ~,,.. .. T "We will defer it," said he, nsmg._ I am now going to the station, and in an ljour I shall introduce my brother to you. you wi}l devote your attention before everythipg to learning to know him ; the rest vrill follow.' Adieu." Wifch this he left the room, and the car riage which had been waiting for him heard driving away directly afterwards. Jessie remained alone, and when no longer under the spell of those cold, stern eyes, her tears burst forth with uncon trolled force. This young girl evidently did not belong to those energetic natures who set will against will. In her tears she betrayed the weakness of a character accue

tomed to be led, and in this first strugfilo she felt her whole powerleseUcss.

It was indeed the first struggle of her life. Brought up in fortunate circum stances, eared for and guarded by the tender love of her parents, trouble had first attacked her in the death of her mother, and two years later in that of her father. In his will, Sandow, the o'd friend and partner of tho dead man, was appointed guardian of the orphan; and the interests of her fortune could not bo in better hands. But Jessie had never been able to attach herself to her uncle, though she had known him from childhood. He was a near relation of her mother, who was of German birth. Nearly twelve years jyeviously ho had come to America almost destitute, and had sought and found a situation in her father's busi ness. It was said misfortune and bitter experiences bad driven him from Europo ; what it really was Jessie had never been able to learn, for even hor parents eeomed only partially acquainted with the facts, and Sandow himself never alluded to the subject. At first he was only given a subordinate position in the office on account of his relationship, but he developed such rest less energy, such foresight and activity, that ho soon rose to the highest place under tho head of tho business; und when a difficult crisis in their affairs had beon surmounted only by his sharp-sighted ability and watchfulness, he was taken into the firm as a partner, and under his guid ance it soon started on a new career of prosperity. A series of speculations, as bold as they wero fortunato, rawed this hitherto secure firm to the position of one of tho first in the city ; and the new mastor knew so well how to uto the influence re sulting on this rise that he was soon sole authority, or at least had the casting vote in its affairs.

In this manner Sandow had become in a comparatively short timo v rich man. As ho was alone in the world, ho lired with his relations, but in spite of this long habitua tion, and in spite of community of interests, he had novor had any hearty friendship with them. His cold, severe manner for bade all near approach to true feeling. Ho had no interest in anything but tho business and his increasing work for it, and never soughtrestandrclaxationin the family circle. Ho seomed to have no need of them. Jessie's father had no objection to his partnor taking the greater part of the work and care off his shoulders ; he himself was inclined to the enjoyments of lift), and tho comforts of homo. As thoir inclination* were so dis similar, their relations had always been best when founded more on external interests than on real friendship.

Now tho management of the businoss, aid the control of tho fortune of tho young hoireea.lay in Sandow's hands alono, but he soon extended his rights as guardian to a control ovor hor future also. With the same unmitigated egotism which character ised all his undertakings, he planned tho match botwoon his brother and his ward, and ho was astonished as ho was indignant that his scheme, accepted by ono party without conditions, should bo rejected by tho other. He laid very little woighi on this opposition, however, and was convinced that tliuigirl, who had hitherto shown neither power nor will to act independently, would not oppoao his wishes in this case. Tho hour ho had mentioned as tho timo it would take to drive to tho station and back was hardly passed when tho carriage whools wore again heard, and the two gentlemen diroctly afterwards entered the room whsro Jennie, still remained.

(To bfi Continued.)

Sunday Observance.

At tho annual mooting of tho Sunday Socioty, hold on May 17, tho Duko of West minster presided, and among others present wero Lords Fortesquo, Bramwell, Clifford, Grovillo, Ravonscourt, and Thurlow ; Sir Coutts LimUay, Professors Tyndall and Cortield, Mr Collins, M.P., and Mr Sum mers, M.P. Lord Bramwell said ho regarded tho way In which tho English Sunday was now ob served a« " most stupid and mischievous " When ho was a Judge the chaplain* of High Sheriffs often asked him with dismal countonanco, " Does not your lordship think that Sabbath-breakiug is tho begin ning of all crime and An !" He replied in tho affirmative, because of all tho offencos or sins that a man or a child could commit, tho mosteasy, natural,andrational was Sabbath breaking. Hence it was much more easy for man or child to bogin with that than any other; and, having onco begun, it was moro eaey for him to go on with some other ollenco than if ho had not thus commonced. The child was told in the same solemn tono and at tho some timo that ho was to " keep holy tho Sabbatli day"—which he under stood to moan that he was to refrain from all reasonabloamusement and childish games —and then, that he was "not to steal" and break other commandments. What wag tho conscquonco ? Tho child could not distinguish between tho two things, and when he was led by natural disposition into what was called "breaking tho Sabbath," tho next stop was a tolerably easy one, and ho did something elao and worse. His lord ship added that ho would bo very glad to see tho timo when rational amuEement on Sunday—tho game of cricket on the village crre€n, for inst-unco, and lawn t-ennie, and other siipilqrly innocent pleasures—would bo sanctioned \ty public opinion in this country. At thp sftme \iyno ho should bo very sorry to see Sunday made a day of labour. On the contrary, it should bo a day of rest, decently and rovently observed. But to suppose that any ordinary human being could devote the whole of his attention on that day to devotional subjects was to sup pose that which was impossible. He did not, however, deny that Lord Shaftesbury could do it, and there might bo tome fifty men in the country with minds strong enough for the purpose, but the majority of men could not succeed in it. Personally, if he were to try his utmost he could not do it. He had always endeavoured to give at tention to reoreation ; but this was posi tively prohibited to some people on Sunday by general opinion on the subject. In Scotland it was deemed a sin if a man took a walk on tho Sabbath simply for tho sake of the exercise. The present prohibition of rational amusement on Sunday was one of impossible obeervanco. It was utterly without justification ; it was in fact, as he had said, "stupid." Rational, proper amusoment on Sunday was permitted until about the time of tho Commonwealth. In tho time of Jamos I. a book of sports was published under royal authority, in which certain games were described as being lawful and legitimate on Sunday. Up to the period he mentioned Sunday was observed protty much in tho same way in which it is now observed abroad—as a day of abstinence from labour, bnt also of rational enjoyment. And that was the way in which it was now obsorved all over Christendom, except in Scotland, in our colonies, and in the United Statos, which had had their origin from us, Even in Cal vinistic Holland he found, after church time, the people reasonably amusing and on joy ing themselves by popular sport and entertainments. According to a distin guished Jewish friend of his, the Jews' notion of their Sabbath was not, to use lus words, that it should be observed as "a day of gloom and inanity." When they considered what Christendom at large did on Sunday, how the Jews had interpreted the command first given to them, and that the interpretation some English Christians put upon it made it one of impossible obedience, ho asked whether he was not justified in the application he had made of the word "stupid.'I—London "Times."

The Latest 'Cycling Novelty.

The latest 'cycling development seems to be the "carrier." The weak point of the bicycle has always been that you can carry nothing larger than a pocket-book on it with comfort. To go on a tour without so much as c, clean shirt is not congenial to everybody's taste. The carrier tricycle effectually gets over this difficulty. It is provided with a large box or basket, in which the trioyolist can carry a hundred weight and a half of luggago If he is so minded. It is already usea, as most of us have noticed, by the Post-office and some of the newspapers. A member of the London Bicycle Club has been placing it to even more laudable purpose. He deposited in the basket his two youngest daughters with certain luggage. The young ladies and the luggage combined weighed 1441b. Such was the admirable constitution of the carrier tricycle and the member of the London Bicycle Club, that the whole party voyaged safely from London to Bath in three days. " The children," says the narrator of the event in the columns of the "Standard," "were greatly bene fited by the change of air and scene." Whether the father was equally benefited is perhaps open to doubt. In any case here is a new opening for pater ifamiljas' on his holiday. Instead of going to" the mountain or tho spa-shore, he pan convey the younger members of the family about the roads of England on carrier tricycles. He is recommended to avoid " up grades," and to carry not only a small medicine chest, but a manual of surgery, and an appropriate assortment of surgical instruments and appliances.

A LADY'S LETTER FROM LONDON.

Feminine Facts, Fancies, and Frivolities.

By Elisk.

Our Summer Holiday—Off to Norway- Yachting I)kk88—Goodwood This Year —Its Glories—The Maoris Invited— The Maori Reception—Strange Invita tions—Mrs St. Bury—Her Establishment —A ComforrAin.E Home for Strangers— London Hotkls— -Tjik Healtheries — A Chinese Lunch — Strawberries and Cream-The Khencii Band-Evening: Fetks —Dresses Worn Tiikrk— Enlarged Im- PROVERB— New Drkssks — Material and Out—Boating Costumes—A Novel Jacket —Fashionable Marriage—"Orange Blos" somb"—Daly's American Company—Re vivals. London, July 24th. Dkar Mr. Editor, —The great question, " Where shall wo co this autumn V" which invariably begins to agitate all well-con ducted households about the middle of July, has been settled for U3 by an unexpected invitation to join a yachting party wl.o propose to spend August and September exploring the fiords of Nor/.ay. I look forward to enjoying the trip intensely. Redferu has receive 1 orders for three " .ship-shape " continues, wh eh are to be waterproof as well a,s picturesque; and for headgear I shall tall buck upon tho homely " Glengarry." We start im mediately after Goodwood, which promise!' to be gayer than usual this year. The Prince and Princess of Wales patronise the "Ducal" meeting, and all tko "lions" of the season (save perhaps your own Taw hiao) will follow their lead. Even the Maoris could foregather in the Duke of Richmond's Park if they chose. Mr Edwin Hopkins, who, it may be remembeie. , played havoc amongst tho pretty girls of Auckland a few years ago, proposed to conduct them to tho races, and initiate them into the mysreries of " backing the favourite," but neither Tawhiao nor To Wheoro jumped at tho ofler. If the weather keeps fine, the show of dresses on the lawn at Goodwood will far outshine Ascot or Henloy. Under favour ablo circumstances, the Eton and Harrow natch would have been tho great " dress day " of the season ; but on tho eventful ufternoon rain descended in torrents, and the fair sex stayed at home. Of course you have heard all about the Maoris' reception at Demeter House. Tho invitations wero sent out in a most extraor dinary form. Many people must have wondeied who they came from, for no name wus jrivon. We simply got a card with :— " The pleasure of your company is requested at Deinetor Mouse on tho afternoon of July U, to meet the King of the Maoris and his chiefs."

Mrs St. Bury (or Saintsbury as sho U in diS'orontly called), the mistress of tho mansion in Montague Place, is tho widow of v clerk in tho Hi nk of England. She ha« inlluentiul friends, and must not be con founded with the ordinary boarding-house keeper. A liTelior, friendlier, more busi uoss-liko little woman 1 never met. Her !ioui>e is tho model of what such an estab lishment should be. Everything bright, fresh, and clean as a new pin. Colonists coining homo on a visit could not do-better than tuko up their quarters at Demeter Ilouso. Apart from tho oconomy of tho proceeding, Mrs St. Bury is just tho pcrcou to put a stranger in the right path. She unuonitandii town and town ways thoroughly, knows not only what to do, but how to do it in a ilislinr/xt yet inexpensive fashion. You /liould hear Mr Yesoy Stewurt eing her praises.

The question, " Whereto stay ?" is nearly always a puzzle to the returning colonist who doesn't happen to havo friends in London. For a few nights I should recom mend the Grand Hotel at Charing Cross, or he First Avonuo in Holburn. A great many Australians go to Morley's in Tra falgar Square, but it is an uncomfortable old house, long paat its day, and very expen sive. Spiers and Pond's, Holborn Viaduct, it v tolerable " second-class hotel.

Since tho Chinese Court at the Health Exhibition was opened, it has boon the correct thing to "do "a iuncli there. Tom took Mary and myself last Thursday. Wo hud birds-nests soup, sea-slug pio, and soveral other dclicaces of doubtful composi tion. I tried my best to enjoy tho Celeßtial dainties, but truth compels me to state the experiment did not yield unalloyed pleasure. Wo rose from tho table still hungry and " made tracks " (as Cousin Bob would say) for the model dairies, whore you can now obtain British Queen strawberries with most delicious clotted cream. During the afternoon tho band of the First French En gineers played in tho gardens. It is, in my opinion, incomparably the best of the foreign orchestras that havo visited South Kensington this season. Tho Bismarck Cuirassiers are fino brass instrumentalists, but they haven't the brilliancy and ilan of tlioir Parisian brethren. We enjoyed the overture to " Tru Drovalo;" Blegcr's mazurka, " Un ReVo j" and that old and popular French walte, " Indiana." The evening fetes at tho Healtheries have grown extraordinarily popular. On Wednes days, whan the fountains play, one can with difficulty move about in tho gardens, which inßt year used to be merely sprinkled with visitors. Cortainly there has never beon anything like the fountain display seen before. The reason is that tho electric light is hero for tho first time, utilised for the illumination of water. The largo central lake in the centro of the grounds lies just in front of a statue of the late Prince Consort. At the base of the Btatue the water pours over from a large marble basin, so as to make a waterfall into the lake. Great green artificial leaves and water-lilies float on the bosom of this largo sheet of water, while all over its surface fountain pipes rise up shaped to imitate bulrushes. The central fountain is elevated on rock-work, from under which men manipulate the electric light, a powerful beam —now one colour,now another—which is shot up through the centro of each column of water, whilst another strong line of light is cast athwart the whole from a distant clock tower. The effect of the varied shades of colour illumi nating the countless jets of water (which change in shape and form momentarily) Is inexpressibly beautiful. People dress very well at these Wednes day fetes. My friend "Filomena," who goes frequently, says the newest ideas in promen ade costumes and in hair • dressing are always to bo seen there. Tho stylo of dressmaking is undoubtedly completely changing. By far tho majority of notably stylish gowns last Wednesday had tho skirts made plain, without a particle of drapery. They are gathered into a band with a little fulness all round; but, of courso, more at the back than the front, and they are made wide enough to be worn over big tournures. In these latter there is no dimi nution. A Paris friend of "Filomena's" declares " improvers " nro even larger there than here, which scarcely seems possible. They cannot, however, bo going out of fashion at present. As to the bodies worn with such skirts, they are of all kinds, coat tails, pointed bodices, and very short ones with tabs all round, being all worn. But the newest bodices are made a little full in the front and often in the back too ; that is to say they are gathered at neck or belt, or elso laid in Hat pleats from tho neck to tho waist, whey are, of course, put into a band. The bands of the bodies and skirts then have to be concealed either by a broad ribbon bolt or by a Swiss belt of velvet or satin. The Swiss bolts are, of course, diamond shaped in the middle, back, and front, nar rowing to under the arms, and are laced up with a cord, generally at the back. They are extremely fashionable. As to the materials, gowns of this sort do not seem to be made much in sateen, but are mosi common in muslin, and in the varieties of voile and cotton velvety substances which have a soft rather than glazed surface. We havo long been wearing thick furniture fabrics in our evening .dresses; tabliers, waistcoats, and trims have been made of the brocaded satin and velvets, which the manufacturers dosign for covering chairs or hanging up at windows as curtains. Now the thin summer walking drcsies are being largely made of all those new kinds of muslin, plain and coloured, which have been introduced within the last few years for summer curtain?. Madras muslin, that thick muslin with a rough raised kind of flower upon it in various colours, pale pink, blue, oryellow, is one of the most fashionable materials for promenade dresses. The ex treme heat makes such attire very accept able. As a last illustration of how completely the make of skirts is changing, I may mention that a good many of the dresses at the Exhibition hod P*»t»Y«>Jy I have been in the way of seeing many pretty boating dresses lately, drams that may be utilised for tennis equally well. A. charming frock of this character was made of white flannel, the skirt excessively full,

very short hip drapery, full bodice, white satin belt, and jockey cap of white sergo to match. A pale pink flannel was similarly made, but the hat was of white straw, trimmed with fold* of pink surah. A pretty change can be made by substituting for bodice of corresponding material a Garibaldi skirt of striped flannel ; claret and white may be worn above blue or over white flannel. Ribbon bows of the combined colours should be arranged to give an air of connection. Two of the prettiest dresses worn at Henley Regatta had skitts of white flannel very full, with tucked Gari baldi bodice of pale green silk.

My friend Madge gives the following des cription of a new kind of jacket for evening wear at the seaside : —" The jacket, of grey or blue, is tight-fitting with dark velvet collar and cult's. Very smart jackets of the same kind are made in white cloth with chestnut velvet collar and cuffs and gold buttons. For very slender figures their are pretty Hungarian vesta, short and tight, and covered with gold lace. The old fashioned cache, pouxsie.re is now quite ex- Eloded, and is replaced by the Grand 'uchefts redinjrote or pelisse of a light grey material covered with embroidery of the same colour, and as long as the dress. At Vichy's, Lily saw, the other day.severalblue and many red dresses of some light material trimmed with Bulgarian scarves of batiste, embroidered with gold thread, forming impossible varieties of flowers." One of the most notable marriages of the present season was celebrated last week, when tho Hon. Robert Lyttleton, sixth son of the lute Lord Lyttleton, married Edith, daughterof Mr Santloy.tliepopiilarbnritone. The fashionable and aristocratic crowd at the ceremony included Mr and Mrs Glad stone, the Premier presenting the bride with a diamond bracelet. The latter (I of course menu the bride, not the bracelet) looked exceedingly well in ivory brocaded terry velvet and satin, draped with old point lace. Her pearls and diamonds were " consum mate." Bythe-by, have you seen "Orange Blossoms," the new society weekly paper consecrated to descriptions of weddings, &c. V It is really very nicely got up, and much more readable than you would suppose.

For the last ton years there have never been so few theatres open in London as there are now. We went the other evening to feo Mr Augustin Daly's American Com pany, who mean to occupy Toole's Theatre during the recess. Thoy play milk-and water comodies of a most depressing char acter. We had laughed heartily over "Featherbrain" at the Criterion the previous night, so the contrast was speci ully marked. Tom declares he will -never patronise an American show again. I'm delighted to hear " Diplomacy " will bo revived at the Haymarketin the autumn; also " New Men and Old Acres," at the Court. An American comedy, "Young Mid Winthrop " (which ran 18 months at the MuJison Square Theatre, New York), will follow Tom Taylor's comedy at the latter houee.

THE GREAT REFORM DEMON STRATION.

Procession of One Hundred Thousand

Workmen.

(I'KOM OUB LOND«N CORRESPONDENT.)

LonijOM, July 24th. Tiiti Great Reform Demonstration, to protest against the House of Lords tin owing out Mr Gladstone's Franchise Bill, took place on Monday afternoon last, and proved to bo one of those extraordinary nights which you only see two or three times in a lifetime. Forgetting what was doing, I left home about 4 p.m., and took the Underground Railway to Westminster, with the intention of paying a call at the Agent-General's offices. No sooner, how ever, did I »tcp outside the Westminster Bridge Station archway, than I found my self in the midst of a surging, shouting, , seething, and perspiring crowd stretching every way as far as the eye could reach. Down tho middle of this mass of humanity meandered tho great procession, a deter mined regiment of metropolitan working men one hundred thousand strong. They all wore blue ribbons, inarched with military precision in file six deep, and carried either banners inscribed with the political war cries of the day, or the insignia of their respective trades. Knowing the unguarded playfulness of the London street arab on occasions of this sort, and the rooted aversion with which he and his redoubtable older brother 'Any view any person respectably dressed, I began (after ten minutes' severe jostling) to look about for a temporary asylum indoors. The shops were all closed, but a glimpse at the crowded windows of St. Stephen's Club reminded me that the National Liberal would be available if I took the Under ground Railway on to Charing Cross. To shove my way back through the crowd and reach tho station archway once more was by no means easy ; but, thanks to tho as sistance of a stalwart policeman, I at length managed it, and a few minutes later was ' onticonsed in a first-floor window of the great club-house in Trafalgar Square. The view from hero waa superb. The procession marched up Whitehall and crossed the Square, making for Pall Mall. Just as I arrived the leaders, the mounted farriers, a powerful body of men, came in sight, agricultural labourers, with their ribbon-decked hop-poles, following, and behind them a seemingly endless succes sion of the handicrafts and trades: the zincworkers and tinplotere, the carpenters and bricklayers, the printers with the press in their bruko and the compositors at work, tho butchers with their marrowbones and cleavers, the shipwrightswith their leaders sitting in «. full-rigged ship drawn by a team of hordes, the liatters with their tall head gear, the railway servants with their models of George Stephenson's "Rocket" and of tho modern locomotive. Then followed the cabinetmakors, goldbeaters, basket makers, organ-builderSjFrench-polishers.pianoforte mukcrs, and upholdsterers, the millers, the cigarmakers, the sugarbakere, the coopers, tho tobacco-strippers, the bakers, the glass blowers, the tobacco-pip* makers, and the cabdrivers.

It doesn't take long to write this down, but it took just/aiir hourx for the procession to pas 3 us. The meetings in the Hyde Park had been held and the front ranks were dispersing, whilst tho tail-end of the seemingly nover-endingline of blue ribboned workmen still streamed slowly along the Thames Embankment a mile and a-half away. I did not (it is needless to say) wait to see the whole affair through. That would have been too tedious. When the crowd began to thin a bit, we some of us crept out into the Square, and, slipping across to tho Underground, jogged com fortably home, far away from the crowd. The following extracts culled from various London papers may give some idea of the splendid proportions of the Demonstration and scones en route :—

The Scene la Piccadilly.

In evolving a mental picture of Piccadilly from the upper end of St. James's-street to Hydo Park Corner, as it appeared on this occasion, the render must imagine that pleasant and fashionable thoroughfare transformed beyond recognition. Not that there were to be seen decorations of triumphal arches, illuminations, trophies of aims, Venetian masts, flag.*, or banners. There were no such ornaments anywhere along the route, and therefore not in Piccadilly. All tho change was made by stoppage of the ordinary trtilic, by people looking out of windows, ajid by a serried mass of human being, so large, so vast, so seemingly in numerable, as to be deeply impressive. Possibly not one half, not one quarter, of this populace may havo been Radicals, or enthusiastic for the extension of the fran chise to the counties. But there they were in thoir hundreds of thousands, standing aside to let the processionists pass between their midst. That fact is undeniable. The procession may have numbered 100,000 men and women, more or less—horse and foot. Holding aloft its heavy silken banners, painted and embroidered with all kinds df devices and mottoes — with emblems of trades, with hop-polesof Kentish and Sussex^ labourers, with halberds and armour, and' loaves of bread on top of staves, and green" boughs of trees—it swept along, sometimes; seeming stern and gloomy, sometimes full of merriment —a very real and earnest assembly of poor men, come out to assert* a claim, or, as the men themselves declare, to claim a right. Waggons and carriages laden with reformers break up the "■littering monotony of the endless perspec tive of oblong banners, keeping on and on towards the goal of *>'% seJ e wheT the the part, right and left of .wneie «ie tree-a gigantic a-cient c m formerly stood. In spite of theu trood humour, some part of the frowd, and it is to be feared a section of the processionists, did no hesitate to stop at the corner of Arlington-street and hiss loudly and viciously, pointing the finger of scorn in tho direction of Lord Salisbury's house—protected from rjossiblp fury by* a hodv o? constables df&wn up across the end of the Btreet. At Devonshire House Lord Edward Cavendish was recognised; at the corner of Stratton-street a cheer was raised for the Baroness Burdett-Coutts; and when Mr John Bright was seen at a window of his houee, the right hon. gentleman was

culled by nnfnfl .' (id loudly applauded with long.iv-: tiinfc-1. '.pp'oving-shon;.-;. Passing the c'lotud I'liiM .i i' \psloy House, in view of the crowded roof uf St. George's Hospital, the procession, or rather s»me part of it, entered Hyde Park, itnrl the speakers made the best of their way to the appointed trysts. A considerable portion of the pro cession either never entered the park, or at least not until all the speaking was over and done. The t;iil was still inarching, with banners waving and bands playing, when the head, with task accomplished, was on its homeward route.

My Letter of Introduction

" I'm sorry I can't go up to London with you," said Mr Bridgnorth, who had just crossed the Channel with ms, as we stood chat tingatthe Dover railway station, whether he had come to see me off.

Our brief acquaintance, struck up the night before on the Calais packet, had been rendered bo agreeable by Mr Bridgnorth's affability that I was more than half pre pared, if not to dispute the dogma that truffness is the predominating feature of nglisli manners, at least to admit that it is a rule not without exception. "It would afford roe pleasure," he added, " to act the part of ' guide, philosopher, and friend,' on your first visit to the great metropolis ; but since that cannot be—busi ness before pleasure, you know—l've written a letter to a chum of mine in town, which you would do well to present as soon as possible, for he's a connoisseur in city life, and will see you suitably bestowed."

I thanked my new friend for his kindness, put his letter in my pocket, and bidding him many warm adieux, hurried, at the call of the guard, to take my place in thetrain.

I was followed up the steps by a thick-set and rather coari-e-featuredman, who, besides myself, was the sole occupant of the com partment. The door was locked, the bell rung, and the train set in motion.

The stout gentleman busied himself for a time with his newspaper, and then threw it down with a grunt. The next half-hour he looked out of the window, his face betoken ing anything but pleasure at the prospect, the charms of which were not heightened by the effect of a dull autumn drizzle. Turning about with another grunt, his deep-set grey eyes glanced me over keenly. " Do you know the—the gentleman you were talking with just before the train started V he asked, in a quick, sharp voice. "I do," I answered—mentally adding, " Inquisitivenesg, I see, isn't exclusively a Yankee trait."

" Seercs to me I've Been him before—what might his name bo ?" was the next question. " Bridgnorth." " And your own ?" "Hanley." I was more amused than annoyed at this croas-examination. " How long have you known Mr Bridg nortii?" continued my inquisitor. " Since we got on the Calais boat together last evening," I replied.

"Humph!" I thought it was now my turn. " Do you reside in London ?" i began. " Yes." " May I inquire your name?" " MaeGrumlie." " Scotch extraction, I presume ?" " Can't say—never saw the family tree." " Nor need you wish to, if it's known by its fruits," was thereturt I had on the top of my tongue, but I left it there. "By the way," I said, after a pause, "Mr Bridgnorth was kind enough to give me a letter of introduction to a friend of his ; perhaps, on our arrival, you can direct me to the place mentioned in the address." "What is it!" I showed him the superscription. With anotherof his "humphs!" he handed the letter back.

"Do you want to go there at once ?" lie inquired. " I might as well," said I; "I have no acquaintances in London, and Mr Bridg north has assured me of his friend's kindly offices."

." I'll show you the way," Mr MacGrumlie was kind enough to say. " It's on my road home. You can leave your luggage at the station, and we'll take a cub together." This agreed to, the conversation flagged, in spite of all efforts on my part to revive it. I couldn't help contrasting the hours so lately enlivened by Bridgnorth's wit and gaiety with those whose tedium bad nothing to relieve it but MacGrumlie's ever recurring soliloquies of " hutnphs !" and grunts. It was dark when ws> reached the city. My companion hailed a cab, gave the driver the direction, and jumping in by my side, we were soon rattling down a shabby, ill lighted street. " Here you Rre I" said MacGrumlie, as we checked up in front of a sombre-looking building. Few worda were spent in leave-takir g. I got out, paid my share of the fare, and having with difficulty distinguished the number on the door, I rang the boll, while the cab turned tho next corner.

Several minutes elapsed, and I was on the point of gi/ing the knob another pull, when I hoard steps inside. The door opened, and a not very prepossessing male servant growled: " What do you want?" " I have a letter for Mr Fitz Quagg," I said ; "is he in?" " Gimme it, an' I'll see," siid the lackey, snatching rather than receiving the letter from my hand. Without inviting me to enter, he slammed the door in my faco, and I heard his heavy iJ amp retreating. After another delay, and a sound of lighter footsteps, the door was again opened, and a youngish-looking man, in a garb, as revealed by tho imperfect light, which appeared moro flashy than genteel, stood before me. " Sorry to've kept you waiting, Mr Hanley," he said, seizing my hand cordially. "Have readßridg's letter—capital fellow, Bridg. Any friend of his always welcome. Just going to dine with a few friends Must join us. Good way to introduce you. Come, Dick," turning to his surly servant, " run ahead, and tell them to put another name in the pot." Cutting short my acknowledgments, Mr Flte Quagg took my arm, and we sauntered leisurely along. As we turned a corner to go down a street less inviting, if anything, tha> the one we had left, I caught a glimpse, I fancied, of a form on the other side of the way much resembling the burly figure of MacGrumlie.

We stopped at length before a door at which my companion knocked peculiarly. We were at once admitted, and Mr Fitz Quagg led the way to a room lighted by a dim lamp, where, half invisible in an atmosphere of smoke, sat three of his familiar spiri'B, each with a pipe in his mouth.

"I say, Dick," said Fitz Quagg—the ceremony of introduction over—"fill us up the glasses while we'ro waiting for the solids."

Soon each man had a tumbler of punch before him.

" Here's to better acquaintance—no heel taps, mind !" called out the hilarious Fitz Quagg, rising, and draining his joram in honour of the sentiment.

Out of shore politeness I swallowed the abominable Btuff, though the taste half sickened me. Iv a few seconds my head began to whirl. Fitz Quagg and his friends seemed to be spinning round the room. The cloud? of smcke thickened. My temples throbbed. A dull heaviness settled on my brain, and, at last, came uncon sciouaneea.

How long it was before my faculties re turned Ido not know; but when they did, my companions had disappeared. I felt for my watch to note the time. It was gone, and my pocket-book and money with it. Tho truth flashed upon me. " Drugged and robbed !" I exclaimed. "You ye hit it exactly," answered a voice which I had heard before; and turn ing about, my eyes fell on the impressive faco of the gruff MacGrumlie. "Never mind," ho continued; "your property and the robbers are both safe at the station-house. The fellow you parted with this morning is a noted thief, whose face having grown too familiar in London, he has been plying his trade on the Con tinent of late. Ascertaining, probably, that you had a large anm about you he came across the Channel in your company, but finding ho bad no safe chance to pick your pocket by the way, and not daring to follow you further, he commended you to the kind offices of his city friends, trusting to their honour to remit him his share of the spoil. "As an old detective, I had very little difficulty in fathoming his scheme as soon as I learned he had given you a letter. So I kept close watch on your movements from the moment you left the cab, which I dis missed immediately after. Then waiting till things had gone far enough to insure the rogues a good teipm of penal servitude, I summoned assistance ami pounced upon thpra bfciore they could make off with their plunder."

A DESPERATE AFFRAY.

• Burglar Chasing Over House-tops. ■ Two Policemen Shot. [FKO.M OCX LONDON CORBESPONDEKT.] j Loxdon, July 24th. '""' It is alnvipt ncco" ::y to search in tho .';■ pages of liction for a parallel to tho man- ; : hunt which took place at Hoxton in the iajj North of London during the early hours of bj Friday morning ln?l. Hill .Sikos, the mm--, dever of Xancy, pursued from cellar to \; roof by a raging mob, is only an imagina tive picture, yet the incidents of that ■ ;: thrilling tale are not more striking than the ::: veritable pursuit and capture of Wright, I| the Hoxton burglar, along the tiles of tho ' Kile-street houses. The main facts of the ;" : story aro thus recorded by the "Daily Tele- " graph " of Saturday :—About one o'clock , yesterday morning, it appears, the premises ■' of Air Elsbach, furrier, in the New North Road, were broken into, and some articles carried off. The burglars effected their , j entrance through a window at the rear of the house, by pushing back the catch ; and | probably they would have decamped with larger 4)ooty if the owner of the shop had , not been disturbed and come downstairs. He seems to have caught sight of the two. * men, Wright and Wheatley, and no doubt had he tried to capture them they would y : ; have used the revolvers with which they ? were provided ; but, as their progress was not interrupted, they contented themselves „■< by simply going out of the front door and ,; making off. Four horns later Police-con stable Garner noticed one of the men, •J Wheatley, lurking in a ei-hool-yard at tho ; ' rear of a church; and, getting over tho railings, attempted to seize him. Wright, ■.• t. the other and more desperate of the two robbers, on seeing his comrade struggling with a policeman, at once fired three shots, ; c the last of which took effect; but the con stable still, though wounded, bravely kept a ; ; grip of his antagonist, until the timely ■;. arrival of a workman named Thomas and of Inspector Maynard enabled him to secure Wheatley. Wright, meanwhile, scaled the railing and was making off, when he was . j. V. encountered by two other constables, who?;■ | were running up to tlie scene of action, and who tried to intercept him. The names i-f these policemen are Clifford and Snell. On ,J seeing himself in imminent peril of capture, | the burglar turned and shot the latter, who now lies dangerously wounded ut the „, :j hospital, together with Garner, the other :■;■; injured constable. It is highly cred table > to these courageous men that they were • -] ; : ready to cope with robbers armed with .: i:; firearms; and it is equally a matter of '■■<■■ public congratulation that a passing work man should,at the risk of his own life, hare ; joined iii and helped the appointed guardians of order. When Policeman .'■-;'). Snell was shot down, Clifford was then left ;■ to continue the pursuit of the miscreant :;> above; and this he did, although repeatedly I threatened with tho revolver. The noiso of '?■ firearms had now attracted several persons to the spot, and they also took part in the ; chaso. After traversing several streots, . ■y-c the hunted burglar seems to have caught ■ sight of a ladder resting against the wall of : a house in Nile-street, up which he climbed, still followed by Polico-constablo Clifford j and some enterprising members of the . :c crowd which had assembled. All along the roofs of the houses the pursuit was kept up, ■;' the burglar leaping from one to another and menacing evoryone who approached him "• with his deadly weapon. The desperate 7* character of the ruffian can be imagined '■■?}. from his teai'ing off the slates to hurl at his pursuers when the revolver happily became useless in his hands. Supposing that he had not happened to drop the chamber part 3 of his weapon, and to lose his cartridges, who knows how many lives might not have been lost in the attempt to arrest a single ;"; homicidal burglar? As it was, the police -•<; and their supporters, after great exertions, ,; is succeeded at last in seizing the criminal. .§

It is easy to excuse the fury of the mob, who would have wreaked instant vengeance on the man if they had been permitted. At present it is not certain whether he and his comrade will bo charged with burglary and attempted murder, or whether tho severe wounds inflicted on the constables may not, in one case at least, prove fatal, andtheprisonorshavotobeputontrialforthe gravest offence known to the law. Every body will hope that the horoic dovotion to duty displayed by these two London police-

men will not end in the untimely death of either of them, but that they may both speedily recover.

"Gone to Texas."

A correspondent signing himself "H.C." sends us the following account of his experi ence as an immigrant in Texas :—

In a comparatively recent issue of your journal you stated that there was likely to boa great exodus of "ne'er-do-weels"' to this State during the next three years. "To prevent disappointment to some of these," wrote a correspondent, "I"quote the following from the last-published report to the Foreign Office from the British Consul in Texas, dated January 26 last: 'The agent in London of one railway is inclined to represent Tescas in too glowing colours. . . . This is a good country

for men with small capital, accustomed to farming, and also for those who have learned a trade, such as carpenters, blacksmiths, stonemasons, and bricklayers. Young men from a desk in an office, unacquainted with country life and unaccustomed to manual labour, had better stay at home.' Now, Mr Editor, as an Englishman, unaccustomed to manual labour, as I was when I came here, let tns recount my experiences, which may possibly be of service to ' young men from a desk in an office.' I arrived in this city (Galveston) shortly after Iroquois had won the Derby and Foxhall the Grand Prize, with absolutely nothing but the clothes I stood in. On landing at the wharf, I heard of a man who needed a wood-chopper, and at onco called upon him and got employ ment. I had to go to a wood with about sixteen others, and was to be paid one dollar and a quarter a 'cord' of wood whon it was ' stacked.' A cord of wood stacked is four feet in width, eight in length, aud four feet high. In two days I managed to cut one cord, but the unaccustomed work and the bad water I had to drink gave me malarial fever, which lasted two weeks. At the end of that time, of course, penniless and now ragged, and in debt to my boss, I managed to reach Galveston Hospital, where I -was most kindly cared for. When I became well enough I sought and found work, this time as coachman (I could not drive), but I only kept the situation for a very few days. I again obtained employment as clerk in a steam laundry ; here I stayed four months, and managed to eavo a few dollars. I bought myself a good suit of clothes, and, well-dres3ed, visited all the wholesale mer chants in the.city. I got a place, andeinco then havo made other changes for tho better. I am now a traveller for one of the best house 3 here oranywhere. I liko tho Americans-better than any nationality on tho face of the earth. They are true friends, but they do not like to believe two things- First, that every young Englishman that cames out here is the youngest son of a nobleman; and second, 'that tho blasted Americans are such cads, don't you knnw.'"

Brutal Punishment in Egypt.

Hebe is a vivid little picture of what goes on in Egypt in the name of theGovesstneiit —" which we fought at Tel-el-Kebir to Bay and which at this moment is absolutely de. pendent upon our bayonets for its exist ence. The scene is described by a Swiss, « by name M. Hilaire Gay, recently captain ' in the Egyptian police, and the victim had . ; been guilty of some slight offenco against |fl the prison regulations:— The victim was placed on one of tho slabs H with his chest resting on thesfono, in which '~m position ho was held by two of tho execu- S tioners. Two others next raised his legs •. , until his feet werein a horizontal position, a ; position in which they were retained by means of a cord fastened to either etui of a stick. On this the fifth torturer, who had taken no part in tho preliminary proceed ings, came forward, holding in his hand a sort of lash consisting of five strands of twisted gut or hide. Tho tormentor raised his arm and struck witli the regularity of a pendulum the upturned feet of his helpless victim. At the fourth stroke the Arab uttered a cry of pain, and at every fresh stroke the cry was repeated. But soon the W& cry became a scream, the flagellated flesh '. visibly shuddered, and tho soles were seamed with red and livid streaks. I i oould not help shivering with horror at tho sight of so much suffering. Ostnan Bey, his secretary, the five executioners with their stern and sinister features, looked un- If moved on the cruel sight, listening to the heavy thud of the strokes and the screams ; i: of the victim. Helped by a guard, for h i ' ■ maimed and bleeding feet refused to sup port him, .he was then led, still moauia with agony, irom the torture chamber. Yet to such men as his Excellency Ostnan Boy and his myrmidons would Sir Evelyn Wt Baring now deliver over tho Gountiy under,.^™! the comfortable formula that our policy,

THE AUCKIAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 20. 1884.

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