THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1887.

t SUPPLEMENT.

Ruby's Reward.

B y MRS MO*™ SHELDON,

f «The Forsaken Bride, v nthor 0I iftjrt Sfc-W "That Dowdy," etc.

CHAPTER XXII.

BO PV BECOMES A TEACHER.

, rWtf a trifle disappointed thafc ~he * 1 allowed to be housekeeper in their *f m She knew that her brother e;Tafford the expense of an added ufn his household, not to mention riso'wasteandwa^andshe ,^ to lighten his burden every

°!f was inexorable ; he was Bufc Mr Oorao break doWQ cares of house etieath Md be was sfcUl as careful as ever other way, K Kcomfort to him to see "?• H face opposite him every morning She waa always fresh and tb rt,Mn her simple wrapper, with a perched coquettishly upon her alD ty cap F- h claimed was simply crimping-pins, and to T it from the dust when she swept rot" 11 mrlour. At the same time, ieir Sm l P3e lady knew that it was °r°&» and that she made a fit Srcfor her brother's eyes as fSbitod the urn and poured out his

Dr e'ii o ,ipver came down to breakfast, 5 3flw have been a dreary meal to Dd, lfc f Wflßnedman but for the presence SleSd"l cheerful chatter about SoAhe day; while his face was hri°ht»r and his step more elastic as layn?Say to his business, for her ; e : nf.S m orning, Robert," and the wkiss she gave him at parting. '3 SMnot satisfied and one even .to he returned, and had had his tea, 3 Gordon had retired to her room, becrepb to his side, in a halt-irresolute f¥o£um not exactly content with ty | D. e L ; m so idle all day long. I want °"IdloT I think I saw some one sweep- D ,and dusting, the other morning, as if °r very existence depended upon Mr Gordon returned, smiling. T!m very sure that we. had a delicious ip==evfc to-day, prepared by the same hands tat wielded the broom so vigorously, fan an never any holes in my stockings, ior any buttons missing from my shirts, ail know thab Estelle does not like to m i Somebody must be busy. What n2n do yon need to occupy you, Ruby ? "A great deal. ■ That only requires a m little time, and Robert, I have something to tell you. Please do not be 'sm with me "-the young girls cheeks mflushed, and she spoke rapidly—' but I hive seen Mr Sampson to day, and he has riven me a position in his school. One of Sisteacher3 is sick, and has.had to give up her place, and I am to begin teaching nest Monday morning.

•1 Gordon's bone was one of surprise and reproach. ~.,., .. "I w afraid you wouldn't like it, Eoberf," Rnby continued, slipping her \phamiiip;ly around "his arm, and lay iaj her bright head upon his shoulder. '•Bitjnsli think, after jou go away in the Bominj I only have a very little to do. I island put the parlour and chambers in ate, which usually takes only about an hr, and then time hangs heavily on my lab until lunch, unless I do fancy work, lisch now seems almost a waste of time. Icraldeasily fceach from nine until twelve, wehome to lunch with Estelle, for the school, yon know, is not far away, then go I*4 at two and teach tintil four, after tlidi the remainder of the day would be a Then Saturday is a holiday, and I prise you there shall be no buttons miss is} nor any holes unmended, while—just tiak, Robert!—l am to have ten dollars a nek! It would be very nice for pin aasy, yon know." "Dearchild!" the strong man said, in a tabling voice, as he gathered her close to H "to think of your working a whole ten dollars! How hard it is to be to curtailed!"

"No, indeed/it isn't a bit hard forme; '-■3hardship all comes upon you," shean- BTered.fondly.. "I believe I wa«j never any Q?pier in my life than I have been since Rcaaetolivointhis wee house. Truly, '»c began to feel that I am of some con duce in the world, and that is a very pant feeling, you know, while I have toedtodoa great many things that I Wd never have known anything about mm. But it is lonely staying here by Wsomuch, for Estelle is confined to erraoni a great deal of the time and wants »Deqniet, and if I can have some pleasant Pupation, I know it will be ever so much «Worme."

''Bntyou never used to complain of being •*Jj Ruby." jjJS 3°« know I was always going -wsere, or receiving company at. home.'" "tynotjoccupy your time in the same 1*; «v ought not to confine your- K-tooclosely to the house." ;: p s face grew suddenly crimson. bw,"° tan, ea3, y thin o to tell her 4: ™arly her friends had for- JJteof late-that ib was a very differ rj,l 'to call upon her the impoverished *n» V lnsiSnificant house in a • retired street, from what it had kZ[ Bhe was a star in (society, the J« a home of affluence. * Bh mS^T light Of ifc as she c°"ld, an assumption of indiffer kt\}J° not have many calls, you ~f» there are none to return." * H 'w'" ,3aid her brofcher. t!* tnlZ ?l nds were mostly fair- are s t t know Jusfc who the n b a r| tbegirlVometo ■ 06 and Annie m« • lnd as ever- They !^i lT, am" and took »c out to **% time in . Oanno L t afford t0 frifct<* l^,ilZ W** ri Sht »i those C* BltooL Pro«d with my ?, * PwSrt » Ons^ential with* so >tance. lU(iaß3uming a pretty air l*?^&"»«'«• * own

him, with that light upon ifc and that earnest purpose shining in her eyes : "No, I will not oppose you, he answered, though with a heavy sigh, lor your heart seems set upon the project, un less I see you begin to look worn under it; in that caso I shall veto it at once. I hope, however, by another year, to bo so well started in business again that there will be no excuse for your doing anything ot the kind. Darling, you do nob know -you can never know what a comfort you have been to mo durino- these lasb months; you have been a veritable sunbeam ; Ido not believe I could ever have borne this heavy trial but for you." , . „ Ruby be"an her teaching the following Monday, going to her work with a smiling face and a brave heart, though she well knew that she would meet trials in the She possessed a great deal of tact, how ever ; there was a bright and winning way aboub her that could not fail to reach the hearts of her pupilfc, and, after a trial of a couple of weeks, Mr Sampson, the principal of the school, predicted that 3ho would make a very successful teacher. Meantime Mr Gordon's former elegant residence had been sold. After it had passed into the hands of his creditors, it was advertised for sale, either furnished or unfurnished, and, shortly, some one ap peared who made an offer for the property just aa it stood ; it was accepted, and thus the beautiful place, in which so much of hope and pleasure had been centred, passed into other hands. Mr Gordon was glad to know that no thing would be changed ; that the beautiful furnishings and adornments would not be scattered and sacrificed beneath the auctioneer's hammer, and he tried to ascer tain who was the purchaser. But the gentleman who had transacted the business stated that he was merely an agent, and said he had been authorised to withhold the name of the owner until he should be ready to take possession. Edmund Carpenter called at the Gordon's one evening soon after Ruby had entered upon her duties as a teacher. When the crash came ha had at first held a little aloof: but he soon found thab he loved Ruby Gordon so well, thab the thirty thousand dollars thab he once hoped to win with her were " but as dust in the balance," and he soon resumed his attentions to her.

There may have been something of antagonism, too, in his persistence. He knew that Walter was rapidly rising in hi 3 profession ; that he would soon be in a position where he mieht feel justified in confessing his love for Ruby, now that sho was poor, and he could not endure the thought of his winning what he had aspired to secure. The thought of Rnby Gordon as the wife of another, and that other one whom he so heartily hated, was torture to him.

Walter had not seen very much of the Gordons since their reverses, as he had been away on business for Mr Conant; but he had called once or fcwbe, and been most cordially received, and he had resolved, as Edmund Carpenter feared, that he -would at no distant day put his fate to the test. The family formed a very inviting circle in that wee house where Ruby lived, on the evening of Mr Carpenter's call just referred to. Mrs Gordon, who rarely left her room, had been coaxed to come down to dinner " to give Robert a surprise," and after the meal was over the pretty parlour lamp was lighted, and the coziest nook in the room assigned to the invalid, who, had she but realised it, made a charming addition to the apartment in her rich crimson wrapper, with a soft white shawl thrown over her shoulders.

Mr Gordon, looking unusually cheerful, was seated on the opposite side of the glowing grate in a handsome dressing gown and slippers, and near him, -with her dainty work-basket, piled high with the week's stockings, upon the table before her, was Ruby, with the lamp-light streaming over her golden head and the fair face that was the chief charm of that household.

And into this pleasant circle Edmund Carpenter was suddenly ushered by the maid-of-all-work. And he had come with the settled purpose of asking Ruby Gordon to be his wife before he should leave the house.

CHAPTER XXIII

A PROPOSAL KEJECTED.

Mr Gobdcot greeted the young man cor dially, and Mrs Gordon seemed inspired with more animation than Bhe had dis played since their misfortune. It was pleasant to see an old friend, while the thought that, perhaps, the fallen fortunes of the house might be improved through him incited her to make herself as agreeable as possible.

Ruby, however, was quiet and reserved, although she drew a chair near the fire for their caller, for she could not be inhospit able, and yet in her heart she wished lie had stayed away, for there was something in his manner that impressed her that he had come with a special purpose in view. Mr Carpenter, however, devoted himself almost exclusively to Mr and Mrs Gordon, chatting pleasantly and sociably with them, although both could see that he watched with eager interest Ruby's white fingers, as they wove the needle in and out upon her homely work, which 3he had not seen fit to lay aside upon the entrance of their visitor. She made a pretty, home-like picture, of which she was wholly unconsoions, and the young man thought her more lovely than ever, with that placid look upon her brow, and a new sweetness illuminating her whole face.

" Ruby has become a regular Dorcas, Mr Carpenter," said Mr Gordon, with a laugh, as he noticed how closely he was observing his sister.

" How so?" he queried. " Because she ' maketh and mendeth the garments of the poor,'" replied Mr Gor don, in the same light tone, yet with a perceptible ring of bitterness. A colour like that of the wild rose sprang into Ruby's cheeks, but shelooked up with a smile and said, as she composedly drew the stocking off her hand : "Oh, this is only a novel kind of fancy work, Mr Carpenter, and I imagine I am becoming quite an adept at it." The young man moved his chair to her side, glad of an excuse to go to her. " Let me pass judgment upon your work, Miss Ruby," he said, helding out his hand for the neatly mended sock that she was about to fold.

She passed it to him without a sign of embarrassment, and, taking up another, went quietly on with her occupation. " I think Dorothea would be a more ap propriate name for Ruby than Dorcas," ob served Mr Gordon, as he turned a tender look upon his sister's face. " Why?" inquired his wife. "Do you know the significance of the name ?" he asked.

" No." "It moans'the gift of God,' and surely Ruby has been that to us during the last few months," said her husband, in a reverent tone.

Ruby looked up quickly, with a little tremulous smilo, and there were tears in her blue eyes as they met her brother's fond glance. Mrs Gordon gave a slight start, and flushed as those tender words made her realise, for almost the first time, how little comfort and help she had been to her much tried husband during their reverses. " I suppose, Carpenter, you have heard that our libtlo sister has become a school niarm with all else, and is teaching young ideas how to shoot," pursued Mr Gordon, to change the subject, as ho noticed that Ruby was becoming embarrassed. " No !" and Mr Carpenter's face plainly expressed bo|/b/ S^rprjse and disapproba tion.

"It is true we never knew how wilful sh« could be until fortune tried to clip her wings;" continued Mr Gordon, playfully; " but they wouldn't stay clipped, they only grew the faster and she has soared the higher." " Fie, Robert ! He is only talking non sense, Mr Carpenter," Ruby retorted, shak ing her head in mpek displeasure at her brother. " I have simply tried to bo sen sible and helpful since we lost our money, and Robert is trying to make out that I have done something wonderful." There came an energetic ring at the door bell just then, and " a gentleman to see Mr Gordon on business ' was announced.

Mr Gordon then took him into the dining room, and soon after Mrs Gordon excused herself and went up to her room. Thus the cheerful circle was broken up, and Mr Carpenter and Ruby were left to entertain each other, greatly to the discom fiture of the latter.

" Are you not afraid that teaching will be too much for your strength, Miss Ruby ?" her companion asked, as ho drew his chair still nearer and assumed a confidential atti tude.

" Not a bit; I like it," she answered, de cidedly, and continued to ply her needle vigorously. " It may be a novel experience just for the present; but it is sure to wear upon you." " I do not think so ; the exercise and em ployment are just what I need. lam growing stronger every day, both physically and mentally.' " But it is so entirely different from the life to which you have been accustomed. It must be very monotonous." "No, indeed, it is far from that, and I find plenty to do to keep my ideas sharp enough for the bright boys and girls in my classes. Of course it is very different from my former mode of life," she continued, with a slight curl of her red lips, " and I am glad that it is so, Mr Carpenter. I have been a useless piece of humanity long enough." " There are a great many things in this world thab add to and embellish it Avithout being useless," ho replied, in a low, earnest tone.

" True ; but they were created just for that and nothing more," Ruby answered, seriously. "I do not bolieve that a human being has any right to degenerate into a mere ornament—a pot or plaything—or to live simply for selfish pleasure. 1 some times feel really glad that I have lost my fortune."

"Glad that you have lost your fortune!" Edmund Carpenter repeated, in astonish ment;.

In his estimation, as in Mrs Gordon's, such a loss was the worst calamity that could overtake anyone. " Yes ; though, of course, I deeply re grot all the trouble it has entailed upon my brother. For one thing it has shown us who our true friends aro, and it lias shown me, too, that a life devoted to fashion and gaiety alone is a very unworthy life. " You are better fitted for fashion and gaiety than you are for the drudgery of fife, Ruby," said her companion, bending nearer her with a look on his face that made her feel very uncomfortable. "What do you call drudgery?" she asked, drawing back and taking up another •sock-one of her brother's, in which there was a shocking hole, and through which three of her pink fingers protruded most temptingly. " This," cried the young man, capturing both hand and sock, while his face flushed a deep crimson. " Ruby, it is a shame for you to be doin» such miserable work. My little darling, 1 can save you from every such ill in life-from these close, cramped rooms, from plodding toil and monotonous teaching. lean give you every beautiful and pleasant thing on earth ; I can make your life as fair and sweet as it was before your misfortune camo upon you. I love you, Ruby, and I came here to-night re solved to ask you to give yourself to me ; to ask you to promise to be my wife, and let me shield you through all your future. Do not hide your face from me, my darling ; look up and tell me that you will give me the right to protect you from every ill."

But Ruby's head was bent until the dainty curls on her forehead almost touched the homely work in her basket. Her cheeks were painfully flushed, and her bosom rose and fell with the startled beatings of her heart.

She had tried to steer clear of this avowal, but the very question that she had asked for that purpose had brought it upon her.

Her hand still lay imprisoned in that of her would-be lover, and when she tried to release it he would not let it go.

"Do not repulse me," he went on. "Have you not seen during all the last year how I have loved you ? I have tried to tell you of it many times, but somehow you have always evaded me. But the time has come when I must know my' fate ; I can bear the suspense no longer. Tell me, dearest, that I may claim you ; I shall be proud to own you as my wife before all those who have turned the cold shoulder upon you, since your brother's trouble; proud to set you above them, and make them ashamed of their fickleness and false pride." He forgot, perhaps, just then how he, too, had been guilty of fickleness and false pride : how when he had first heard of her loss he had said to himself :

" That ends all that bright dream ; I can never marry a poor girl; the woman I wed must bring with her a golden guerdon as well as personal charms .to help grace my home."

But Ruby Gordon had taken a deeper hold upon his heart than he had imagined it possible for anyone to do, and though he absented himself for a while, he found that life was very dull and tame without her bright presence ; that she was more to him without a penny than any other woman could be with a fortune equal to his own. Then, too, as we have already mentioned, his antagonism was aroused by the fear that Walter would now try to win her.

But somehow there was a false ring in those last words of his that grated upon Ruby's sensitive nature and helped her to recover her self-possession, of which his sudden avowal had deprived her.

She sat erect and resolutely withdrew her hand.

"Mr Carpenter," she said, "lain more sorry than I can tell you that you came here with this purpose to-night, for I cannot res pond as you desire." "Do not say that, Ruby," he pleaded, turning pale. Edmund Carpenter was a man who could ill brook any opposition where he had once set his heart, and the ring of decision in Ruby's tone had aroused all his will, and he said to himself that nothing should now stand in the way of his winning her. " I must tell yon nothing but the truth," she went on, more firmly than before. "You have been a pleasant friend, you have shown me many kind attentions, you have sympathised with us in our trouble, and I appreciate it all; but " " But I am not worthy of your love—you will not tell me that, Ruby ?" he cried earnestly. " No, I could not tell you that, I should be very presuming to do so ; but I must state the fact that I do not love you, and co I cannot become your wife." " But, Ruby, I am rich, I am very rich, and your life shall never know a shadow ; everything that heart can wish shall be yours."

" You say that my life should never know a shadow," Ruby repeated, a gentle gravity settling over her face. "Mr Carpenter, it would bo shadowed by a great wrong at the very outset, if I should give myself to you, simply because you could gratify every selfish desire of my heart. Believe me, it cannot be. I have laid out ray course for the future; *t least for the coning year."

" But I -will wait, if your heart is set upon this wild idea of teething for a year ; only promise me that you will marry me at the end of that time," he interrupted, eagerly.

" I cannot." His blood began to boil at this persistent opposition. But he strove to conceal it, though ho exclaimed, eagerly : " Ruby, I have set my heart upon this, and I cannot give you up. I have over looked your reduced circumstances. I have waived your loss of fortune. I offer you all that I am and have, and am willing to take you empty-handed."

He had made a grave mistake, and he saw it instantly, as that golden-crowned head before him was lifted with a haughty gesture. " You are certainly very kind," the young girl responded, with quiet sarcasm, though her eyes shone with a brilliant light and her'lip curled-with the contempt she could but feel for him at thus remind ing her of her poverty. He winced at her tone, and coloured crimson.

" I did not mean to wound you," he apologised ; " but —but you know what the world says when a rich man marries a poor

girl." " What does it say?" Ruby asked, in a tone that should have warned him to be careful how he answered.

" That such a marriage is a mesalliance." Ruby Gordon arose and stood before him, cold and haughty. " You will be spared that fate, then, Mr Carpenter, for I sliali never marry you," she said, scornfully. "If I had loved you, I would not become your wife, after having given expression to such sentiments. You have shown me that wealth and position are more to you than anything else in the world — that you feel you would bo conferring a lasting obligation upon me by condescend ing to make me your wife after I had lost my own fortune. But," and she drew her self up with an air of conscious dignity, " I know that I am more worthy—that I am bettor fitted—to be tho wife of a good man to-day than I was three months ago. I am not egotistical in saying it either, for adversity has shown me how shallow and selfish my former mode of living wa3—it has taught mo how to be useful, and shown me how much nobler a woman can be when she has some object outside of self to livo for and is willing to help bear the burden of others."

Edmund Carpenter regarded tho beau tiful girl wondcringly. She had never shown such depths as these before, and she had never seemed one half so lovely ns she was now, animated by tho noblest impulses of her nature. He had not thought of such a thine: as defeat. Ho had believed that Kuby would accept him* without a demur, and be only too cagar to lift herself out of her present poverty and obscurity, to roign in tho brilliant position he could give her. Tho words that Walter had said to him on the night when he had threatened him, and warned him not to interfere with his plans, now came to him with startling force.

" If you can win Miss Gordon's heart," he had said, "she will doubtless marry you ; if you cannot, she will never be so untrue to herself as to take such a false step."

How accurately Walter had read her character. And now Edmund's- jealous wrath flamed up as ho thought, perhaps, he had already won the girl he aspired to win. (To be. Continued*)

The Royal Palace.

The royal palace at Newmarkeb, built by? James 1., stood upon the site now occupied by the Rutland Anns. His Majesty, we are told, kept open house and dispensed with the state and ceremony rigorously exacted at Whitehall. The fun was fast and furious, and the " cofferer's accounts," still preserved in tho Rolls' Office, reveal that at this particular meeting tho royal hospitality cost no less than Ll,7'2o—equal to about ten times that amount in our money. The " concubines," as Lord Ma caulay calls them, lived each in her own house outside the precincts of tho palace, and kepi gaming tables, at which large sums were lost and won. Tho Duchess of Cleveland had already lost her beauty and the influence it gave her, arid the most popular "hell" was presided over by the Duchees of Mazarin, at which it is said that one nobleman lost L 6,000, or L 12,000 in our present values—about equal to the losses made by the Marquis of Hastings when Mr Chaplin's Hermit won the Derby, with odds of 100 to 1 against him. The racing, however, in those days was far different from that of the present time. Thus the races were between horses generally ridden by their noble riders, carrying from IGO to 190 pounds apiece, and the favourite course was over six miles of ground. A letter is still extant, written by the Duke of York to his niece, the Countess of Lichfield, and dated from Lon don upon October 19th, 1683. He tells her that he arrived the clay previous from New market, and that the King was expected on the morrow. "Although," he continues, the King's stay at Newmarket was not as long as usual, yet there has been more horse-races than I can remember afc any meeting, there never having past a day, at least when I was there, without one, and for the most part two or three, and to-day there is to bo run seven. The weather whilst we was there, was very dry, but cold, so that there was very bad hunting." The gaunt old town has been enlarged and improved, but tho heath itself is in the same state as when visited two centuries since by the Merry Monarch and his dis solute court.

MYSTERIOUS TRAGEDY.

A few days ago Mrs H. Small, residing at Luddenham, about twelve miles from Pon rith, New South Wales, reported to Ser geant Dove that her son, aged 19 years, on returning home at about 12.30 that morning, and when near the Fiery Paddock, saw a phosphorescent figure about the size of an elephant, but of the shape of a dog. This changed to a fiery circle shortly afterwards, and shortly after that to the figure of a man, headless. The young man became ao terribly alarmed that he started off towards home at a pace that would surprise even Samuels. He told his mother what he had seen, and on the fol lowing morning the two proceeded to the spot, where they saw the remains of a fire, and among the debris some burnt bones and other things, which caused Mr Small to give information to the police. The next day Sergeant Dove, accompanied by Mounted-constable Belfour, proceeded to Mrs Small's residence, who at once took them to the spot indicated. After a search the sergeant collected certain portions of the burnt debris, including bones and buttons, &c, which he brought into Pen rith. The locality is described as in a very out-of-the-way place, near the southern boundary of the. Homestead run, and near the famous Filly Paddock, about a mile and a half from the Lud denham Road. Judging by all the sur roundings, there is every appearance of a body having been burned ; and what is more auspicious,' within a few feet of the fire a hole has been dug about 6 feet long, 2 feet wide and about 18 inches deep, dug by come blunt tool This hole and the re mains of the fire appear to'be of about two years' standing, and the general impression is that there has been foul play. The police have made every inquiry, but co fat without finding anything that would at all lead to elucidate the mystery. The bones were examined by Dr. Brady, and carefully compared, with the result that the doctor at once pronounced the bones to be those of a human being.

The Annexation of Cyprus.

So Cyprus has been annexed to the British possessions, thus realising the fondest hopes of the Earl of Beaconsfield, who realised the great importance of the island, owing to its commanding position near the Suez Canal. There is a strange story afloat in regard to the temporary cession of Cyprus to England; it is told by a diplomat who took part in the treaty of Berlin. It was understood that Austria should be compensated by Russia with the provinces of Bosnia and Herzgovina, for Austria's benevolent neu trality during the last Turkish-Russian war, but the agreement was totally ignored at the Congress of Berlin. Count Andrassy, then Prime Minister of Austria, was in despair, but fortunately, during the meetings, the existence of the Cyprus treaty became public through the indiscre tion of a clerk in Downing-street. France, which hitherto had gone hand in hand with England, (was exasperated, and M. Wad dington threatened to leave the congress. Lord Beaconsfield, however, pacified him by making a secret bargain with him. He promised France Tunis, the protectorate of Syria, and a kind of condominium in Egypt. Then Prince Bismarck suggested to Count Andrassy to threaton to break up the con gress if Austria was not awarded Bosnia and Herzgovina. Count Andrassy did so, and Lord Beaconsfield consented to Austria's demand, with the reservation that, as in the case of Cyprus, there should be " temporary occupation." Prince Gortchakoff had every reason to consent to this. Thus Count Andrassy was unable to keep his promise to obtain Bosnia and Herzgovina entirely and completely as offered by Russia to Austria, and this deviation was never for given. For a time he remained in office, but as soon as the alliance with Germany was concluded, he was forced to retire, and he ha 3 never been able to resume office.

Newmarket Health.

Nkwmarket Hkatii, the racing head-quar ters of England, in its way,is one of the most picturesque spots of the British Isles, the rich green sward, level and undulating in turn, spreading away for miles in each direction. Newmarket and its heath are replete with historical reminiscences, as even two centuries since they were the scone of fashionable gatherings, where the King and his court indulged in racing, gambling, cock-lighting, coursing, hawk ing and love-making to their hearts' con tent. Thus the spring meeting of IGB3 was attended by Charles 11., accompanied by his wife, Catherine of Braganza, who with a dowry of an East Indian island gave England tho nucleus of the present Indian Empire. There was also there the Duko of York, the King's brother, after whom New York is named, with his wife, tho daughter of Chancellor Hyde, whose estate included the present Hyde Park, and whose two granddaughters wero after wards Queens of England. Tho court was accompanied by the corps diplomatic, by no end of court officials, and last, but not least, by four of the royal mistresses. We learn that tho sporting fraternity flocked from all parts of the country to take part in the royal pastimes. A great many country ladies were attracted by cuiiosity to see the court beauties; so admirably depicted by Lcly in the Hampton Court collection. There were Barbara Palmir, Duchess of Cleveland ; Louise do Quero naillc, Duchess of Portsmouth ; Hortensia Mancina, Duchess of Mazarin ; and Eleanor Gwynne, Duchess of St.Albans. The great Napoleon used to say that he made his princes and dukes out of mud, but the merry monarch made his duchesses out of still more questionable materials.

Earthquakes in Italy.

The recent earthquakes in Italy recall the great shocks that visited the Eternal City in February, 1703, as chronicled by Francesco Valerio, He states that while the Feast of the Purification was being celebrated at the Vatican, an earthquake frightened away all those who were assist ing in the services. The shock was of such violence that the fountains of the piazza Navona were shaken from their positions, and that the bell-tower of the church of St. Augustine, many buildings and the obelisk standing in the same piazza all swayed back and forth as if moved by waves. Among other things, he describes " fissures in the cupola of St. Peter's as being so serious as to leave it in doubt whether it would not any day be found descending into the church to thank the foundations for having so long sustained it." The comical ah well as the serious side of the story is said to have occurred on the follow ing day, Sunday, when some individuals, either for purpose of robbery or pure malice, ran through tho streets crying "that the Blessed Virgin had appeared to his Holi ness, and had declared that at 11 o'clock the city was to be engulfed in an abyss." People fled in every direction, many nearly nude, and nothing was heard but weeping, chanting of tho Litany, and other orations. Many died from pure fright. Princes and princesses fled, half nude, like the common people. The Piazzas Termini, di Spagna, delPopolo and Cappuccini were crowded with fugitives awaiting the expected catas trophe, and relying upon prayers and tears to avert it. The authorities, when aroused to the seriousness of the situation, hastened to advise the Pope, who was sleeping tranquilly. Horsemen and foot messengers were quickly sent out in every direction, ordering the people in the name of his Holi ness to "return to their homes. The Pope offered a reward of 300 scudi, which he raised to 1,000, for the authors of the false alarm raised in his name, but they were never discovered. So ended the earthquake of 1703, since whiflh time nothing has oc curred to shake the foundations of the Eternal City.

The Fate of General Gordon.

Wk have yet to learn the true story of the maseacre of General Gordon, but the full particulars may be obtained at a later date if a statement recently made at Cairo should be authenticated. Two Syrians and an Arab arrived in that city from Omdurman who state that the European who escaped from the disaster near El Obeid is not Mr Vizetelly, but Mr O'Donovan, the intrepid Avar correspondent. According to the re port of the Syrian Patriarch, who has also arrived at Cairo from Omdurman, the Euro pean who is at that town is an English journalist, who speaks French and a little Turkish, and has travelled a deal in Palestine and Asia Minor. He is employed as a sorb of secretary to the Mahdi, who consults him on all points connected with the addressing of letters and memorials intended for English reading, also on subjects of political Euro pean interest on which Abdullah Kahalifa wishes to be informed. This secretary dresses in Arab costume, and conforms with wonderful success to the manners and customs of the Mahdi. The Syrian Patriarch is of the opinion that he has a great deal of influence with the Mahdi. From descriptions given of this adventurous Englishman it certainly appears that he resembles more Mr O'Donovan than Mr Vizetelly. It is said that Sir Evelyn Baring has made efforts to establish the identity of this European, but the recent battle at Sarras having com* pletely interrupted all communications with the Soudan, it is nob likely that anything more will be known on the subject for some time to come.

Teaoher : "So you can't do a simple sum in arithmetic ? Now let me explain it to you. Suppose eight of you have together forty eight apples, thirty-two peaches^ and six teen melons) what would each one of yojj get 2" " Cholera nobus," replied Johnny.

FATAL ENCOUNTER WITH A SNAKE.

$$ff Huge 'Serpents 1^ Inflla/M§ -'; . ~%> r , ■/- ;,--•,; _ - ; ,.j*fe.,. •,.^:^fw annual statements put forth, by :£fte Government of India as to the number of people who fall victims to the poison of in sects and reptiles seem appalling'to one who has never visited that country and realised for himself the insecurity of human life against these ever-present foes of humanity. I was for several years em ployed in the surveys made of the Brahma pootra and Ganges rivers, both of which have several mouths, and I have had various adventures in connection with wild animal and reptile life. There was never a week, and sometimes hardly a day, that some one of our party was not put in peril of his life. In three months, having five white men and sixty natives in our party, we lost one white man, had a second crippled for life, and buried forty odd of the natives, every one of whom was a victim of reptile or insect poison. I was personally present when as many as fifteen of them were snake-bitten, and not one of them lived three hours after being struck.

Our party was provided with a small steamer, a barge in which the natives lived, and a fleet of three open boats. We were towed from point to point by the steamer, but there was sometimes a week in which she did not have steam up. We not only took the depth, but sounded out and marked channels, and took observations on various points, such as the wearing away of the banks, the filling in, results of freshets, etc. We went on shore more or less of the time, but danger lurked aboard the boats and steamer, as well as in the jungle.

One morning as the survey boats started out I felt too unwell to accom pany them, and when they had pulled away I went back to my stateroom, and lay down. Our craft was a light-draught, flat-bottomed steamer, and when not in use she was always tied up at the bank. She had been in her present position four days, and was moored to the right bank of the Brahmapootra, about thirty miles from the sea. There was no human habitation near us, and the dense jungle extended for miles above and below and right to the bank where we rested. My stateroom was on the starboard side, and therefore next to the jungle, and, of course, all doors and windows were open. The engineer of the boat had taken a canoe and anchored 300 feet away to fish, while all others belonging to the boat were off on the survey. I should have excepted the cook, who was, of course, a native. He was a lithe young fellow whom we called Jack, and he had been reared in Calcutta, and could speak English. When I went to bed he was doing up his break fast dishes, and making ready for dinner, and I heard him singing a native song in a soft key as he moved about. I did not fall asleep, but I became drowsy, and but for an alarm would have pass into slumber. The window of my state-room, hung on hinges, was at the forward end of the room, and was wide open. My bunk was on the left-hand side looking forward, and the right-hand wall was fitted with hooks for my clothes. I lay with my head to the stern of the boat, and therefore faced the window, while the open door of the state room was at my right hand and swung back against my bunk. I have put in all the details in order that the reader may fully comprehend what happened. My eyes were naif shut, and the flies were buzzing around me in a dreary way when I felt, rather than heard, some thing crawl aboard the boat, and the next instant a shadow darted past the open window. My eyes flew open, my heart gave a jump, and 1 was really startled. Before I could made a satisfactory explana tion to myself the shadow returned, and I now beheld the wicked head of a large ser pent at the window. The reptile was look ing in, and his head swayed from right to left ac he peered about to satisfy his curiosity. The distance from my head to the window was not over nine feet, and, of course, I had a plain view of him. I realised at once from the size of the head that the serpent was a monster, and JI was certain that he would attack me. Had I sprung up, he would either have fled or struck me. Being too startled by his sudden advent to plan just what to do, I did nothing and thereby saved my life. I was fully dressed except my boots, and as I had no covering over me the snake must have seen me; but after a moment I became satisfied that he would not meddle with me if I kept quiet. I made no effort to suppress my breathing, but otherwise I was as quiet as a corpse.

The serpent was a couple of minutes in deciding to come in, and as soon as his head touched the floor he began crawling through the open door into the hallway. As ho slowly passed along I estimated his length at thirty feet. I was lying partly on my right'side and partly on my back, and could see every inch of him. The end of his tail had scarcely disappeared over the threshold when I sprang up and closed the door. Five seconds later I closed the window and was then perfectly safe. The first thing I wanted to do was to raise an alarm and give the cook a chance to escape. His kitchen was on the deck below, but doubting if he would hear my shouts I made ready to fire one of my pistols. Then came the fear that the cook, fearing some accident to me, would come rushing up and fall a ready victim. The serpent might pass through the hall to the port guards of the boat, but the chances were that he would turn into the smoking-room. After a little reflection I decided that it was better to let the man take his chances. He was a vigilant fellow, always on the watch for scorpions, tarantulas and the like, and the instinct of danger might serve him better than any effort of mine. A long half hour slipped away without my hearing or seeing anything further of the serpent. Then I began to abuse myself for a coward in leaving the cook to take his chances, and I got out my shotgun, dropped a dozen buckshot in on top of the wads, and opened the door with the determina tion of hunting out and slaying the snake. As I had my hand on the catch there came a sort of scuffling and Bhuffling in the hall, and the noise slowly passed through the door out upon the port guards. I believed it was the snake going back to the jungle, and with mygunatthecocklopenedtne door and passed out. A_ part of the serpent was yet on the rail, and into this I fired both bar rels as fast asl could pull trigger. That por tion of the snake struck by the heavy charges was about ten feet above the tail, and at that point he was as large around as an ordinary man's ankle. He was cut almost in two, ad I afterward came to know. The moment 1 fired I dodged back into the stateroom, and it was well I did. Mortally wounded as he was, the serpent returned aboard in such a violent manner as to rock the steamer, and, in his struggles in the narrow gangway and in the hall, he carried the door off its hinges and knocked a part of the railway into kindlihg-wood* He Was thrashing about for at least ten minuteaj and when I dared t<) venture" out again his head was on the bank and the rest o! his body in the gangway, while the blood was spattered about as if a butchery had occurred* I was ready to fife again* but the snake was quite deadi The reports of tha first discharge. had alarmed the engineer, and he game paddling Up just as I discovered that the serpimp oould do no further injury. Then, we at once began a search for the cook, arid it was not until we had explored every part of the boat twice ovet 1 that we thought tdlook on the bank; There we found his body, limp and lifeless, and showing half a dozen bites. Froni certain signs and chics in the kitchen, where some wild fowls were boiling on the stove, we concluded that the savoury bdbur drew the serpent aboard and downstairs. He probably came ufcon the. co6k so silently

that no-alarm was given, and as there was only a 6tool overturned, there could not have been much of a struggle. How the serpent got the body off the boat I cannot? say, but perhaps he dragged it, and that accounted for tho shuffling noise I heard in the hall. At noon, when the boats came in and the men learned what had happened, some of the natives tired the jungle, and the result was a conflagration which ran for miles and lasted two weeks.

A Funny Captain.

Captain Blackburn, of the Shannon,seems to be a gentleman endowed with consider ably more zeal than discretion. This energetic officer caught sight of a green flag on Jubilee day flying at the head of the mast on a yacht in Bantry Bay, and at once despatched a boat in pursuit of the treason able emblem. The lieutenant who was in command of the boat informed the owner of the yacht, Mr Murphy, that he wa3 liable to a fine of LSOO, and in spite of that gentleman's protests that he did nob con template making war upon the Queen, but) merely carried the flag as a signal, he con fiscated the obnoxious bunting and re turned to the Shannon. A more absurd proceeding could hardly be imagined, even if it were legal, which is certainly open to doubt. The editor of the "St. James Gazette," however, is of a different opinion. "Her Majesty's ship Shannon," says this rabid patriot, "should have fired into the craft which flew the rebel flag in Bantry Bay and sunk her or carried her off as a prize."

A GRAND DUKE'S WOOING.

His Efforts to Win a Daughter of the Prince of Wales.

Mb Labouchere's special cables to the " American Press " on June 7th :—" I an nounced two months ago that there was a project of marriage between the Grand Duke Michael Michaelovich of Russia and one of the daughters of the Prince and Princess of Wales. At that time not one person in ten thousand had heard of this particular grand duke, but he has been in London during the last two months and been in society much and constantly at Marlborough House. Whether the con templated marriage will take place I know not, but there will be several difficulties to overcome, not the least of which is the ab solute necessity for the wife of a Russian grand duke to become a member of the Greek Church."

Followed the King's Example.

Two young Munich ladies, the Baronesses Anna and Louise Guttenberg, aged respec tively 26 and 23, committed suicide by drowning themselves in the Starnberg lake on the identical spot where the King of Bavaria was found dead eleven months ago. They had held many melancholy conversa- • tions on the tragical fate of the monarch,. and repeatedly went to the lake merely to throw flowers into the watery grave. Ab last they gave way to the impulse of follow ing the King's example, and, taking a boat,' rowed to the spot, which is close, to the shore, and dropped silently into the water. Next morning when the missing boati roused suspicions a search was made and j they were found in the soft clay firmly ' clasped in each other's arms. They were both pretty highly cultivated and rich.

The New Explosive.

It is a mooted point whether the new j explosive, melinite, is such a success as' claimed by the French military authori- i ties. On their side ifc is stated that inj recent naval experiments against an old! ironclad the shells showed unexampled j powers of destruction ; so much so thati! steel plates of the heaviest dimensions would be useless as a means of defence. On the other side it is claimed that this new chemical compound decomposes in. the course of time. It is clearly, therefore,' useless for war purposes. If this had been discovered sooner by the French Govern ment, a great saving would have been' effected, as about fifty millions has already, been spent for its manufacture. In the meantime its destructive qualities have i ! been so magnified that people living in fortified places in Europe are frightened! out of their wits at the idea of being blown j to pieces at any moment. A comical in-] cident is related in this connection : Some I time since a well-dressed man stopped at a hotel at Reichenberg, in Bohemia, and; on his departure he left a handbag with i the porter, saying he would come agaiaj and fetch it. Weeks passed, but the man < did not return. As it was found that the! bag had a weight out of proportion to its sizej suspicion was aroused and the bagj was treated with the greatest caution. 1 After a brisk exchange of telegrams be-1 tween Prague and Reichenberg, the orderj was given first to keep the suspicious arti cle in a cool place, and then to take it to1 an open space, half an hour distant from the town, where ho one was allowed to approach nearer to it than 100 paces, j Various plans were then devised for get-j ting rid of the dangerous reticule, and] it was even proposed to throw it' down from a high rock and let it?' explode in a harmless way. This^ scheme was, however, relinquished, as two) courageous men offered to open it with a) knife after it had been left awhile in a cool* place. Accordingly the bag was brought! back to town, again observing the strictest^', precautions, and stowed away in an isolated',: cellar, whei-e it would probably be still lying' if the owner had not suddenly appeared and" i claimed his property. To the great disgust of those prudent worthies, the bag was found to contain only iron tools, which the com mercial traveller, whoso disappearance had caused so much anxiety, now earned away with him, enjoying a hearty laugh- at the expense of the Reichenberg folk.

A Marvellous Juvenile Oracle.

There is living at Bridgeport, Connecticut, a little ohild oracle. At least the American papers Bay so* Miss Mosella Prout, 9 years old, had recently developed a mysterious method of penetrating futurity, into which she peers with a remarkable degree of certainty, foretelling events minutely and locating the time of occurrence with aa« tonishing cqrtectnesSi A singular fre&& connected with the child's prognostication^ is that she will speak freely: Recently a Mrs Smith asked th 6 little oracle when sh« would hear, from her husband, who is ah' Los Angeles •— v To-day at noon" was tho reply, v and the letter will contain a post^ office order for,20dol ; " At 12 o'clock tha pestnlali handed Mrs Smith the promised letter; The other week she told her mother to prepare; places for her ailntftnd Undd, who would arrive from Cornwall in tiiii6 for suppef; To humour the child the; parent did asI. requested, and as. the famik gathered in. the dining r room the doorbell rang ahd the Cornwall relatives, hunenl and tired, were ushered into the hoiise* Mr Prout went trouting, and Uttle Mosella, ill fancy, followed him throughout bid entire jaunt over marsh, brook, and hieadow. exclaiming.at ihtervals with childish de* light--" Oh, p.atoa has caught another !'• Finally, the .child rehiarked that u Papa was almost hbme and had il trout iri his basket:". Five minutes later Mr Proill appeared with 11 splendid trout, and whan; ittfd?ffi6d eihie child's prediction^ fclecldj-gi thatthey Were all tfue; *o^



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