Weekly Mail

The Harness Room Ghost. The night preceding Morley Steeplechases was one of those whereon we enjoy our oreature comforts more than usual—when the sight of a blazing fire on the hearth and a bottle of grog on the table make a man positively enjoy the sounds of the rude blasts outside. dim to the sufferings of those who are less snugly housed. The weather was, indeed, on its worst behaviour. A bitter north-east wind was blowing half a gale, and threatening every moment to wrest from its supports the allegorical representation which did duty for the sign of the Red Lion, while a blinding snowstorm did not speak well for the pros- pects of spor* on the morrow. Naturally enough the interior of the tavern—or hotel," as it was pretentiously termed by the landlord-presented a busy soene, and the snug coffee-room was as well patronised as the more humble tap" wherein the lower classes congregated. In a room at the back of the house sat a party of our men, or lads," as they would generally be termed, for it needed not a second look at their personalities to convince our dear old friend the merest tyro that they were of the horse, horsey. The room, though of good size, was sparsely furnished and without any attempt at luxury. A common deal table, with three unpretentious wooden chairs, formed the only articles of furniture, but hanging on nails round the apartment were divers saddles, bridles, and other impedimenta from which it derived its title of the harness-room. Suoh light as was not provided by the fire round which the inmates were seated was supplied by a oommon oandle of the half- penny dip" order, and as the wind, which came whistling through the chinks of the door, was continually oatohing the flame, its gleams were of a fitful nature. It served to show, however, that the contents of a couple of bottles, labelled respectively Old Tom" and Glenlivet," had suffered severely, and the party round the fire were evidently bent on making themselves as comforable as cir- cumstances permitted. Never mind the betting," the elder of t'he four is saying; II old Pompey will win to- morrow as sure as my name's Peter. He's emptied his manger all right, you say, Jem?" Yes, down to the very last oat. He couldn't be better, and I can't imagine what the bookies are layin' agen him for; it ought to be 3 to 1 on him instead of against." Why, they say this house, and that stable in particular, is unluoky," chimed in another of the party. Haven't you ever heard the tale of -old Simon, the horse doctor ?" No I Let's hear it 1" Well, I don't quite know the rights of the story myself, but it appears that about fifteen years ago the favourite for a big race was poisoned in that very box. I believe it was for the same race as Pompey's in to- morrow, though I won't be sure. Everything went on all right, and after seeing the horse safe the trainer and the boy who had charge of him retired for the night. Somehow or other, however, old Farmer—you know him, Peter; he's still alive and kicking —couldn't sleep a wink, and, feeling kind o' nervous, thought he'd go and see it the horse was all right. "He no sooner entered this door here than he saw a light in the stable beyond. Making all the haste he could, he met a man disguised by a mask leaving the box, and a struggle took place between them. Well, old Farmer was only a httle 'un, and was getting all the worst of it, when he bethought himself of the revolver he always carried. Quiok as thought he out with it, and at close quarters took a pot shot at his opponent. One bullet was enough. The I robber fell like a stone, and when the people of the inn came running in, startled by the noise, it was found to be a man named Simon Finighty, sometimes called I Old Simon,' and sometimes the f horse-doctor,' as it was more than suspected he had had a hand in several villainies of the same nature." Well, what about the horse ? I. Oh I he'd settled him right enough. It was supposed he'd given him poison in the form of beans, or something of that sort, for he lay like a log all next day, and it was months before be came round." Well, what's that got to do with the stable being unlucky ?" Why, it's said that the ghost of old Simon walks to this day, and if a horse is in that box be finds his way there, and either poisons or frightens him so that he's no good next day. Anyhow, they say that stable's never held a winner since." "Boshf There aint any such things as ghosts, is there, Peter ?" inquired Jem, who was the lad in charge of Pompey, and whom little Tiny's recital did not appear to have affected pleasantly. h No, of course there ain't, my lad," replied the head man. I'll wager you'll see no old Simon to-night, for you'll have to sit up, you know." Me sit up I What all by myself ?" And Jem's face certainly betokened no pleasurable anticipation from his vigil. fr Yes I Mr. Morton made me promise that a strict watch should be kept over the horse, as the betting looked suspicious. Why, TOU aren't afraid, are you P" 'J hus, directly appealed to, Jim could not risk the jeers of his fellows by an answer in tbe affirmative, and after another pull at the Scotch expressed himself as ready to face his Satanic majesty himself if necessary. Peter, who certainly ought to have shared the watch himself, but preferred getting between the sheets, took care that if Jem was deficient in oourage of the regulation order he should not want for the sort known as Dutch," and after the younger lads had taken their departure he fetohed another bottle of Glenlivet, which they broached to the suocess of Pompey on the morrow. Well, good night, Jem, and mind you don't go to sleep. If you feel drowsy take a you" or two round the room—that'll rouse turn. Left to himself, with nothing but the whisky-bottle to appeal to, Jem found it necessary for the maintenance of his courage -which was in considerable danger of oozing out at his finger tips-to make several references thereto, and some of the conse- quences thereof were strange. James differed from the majority of stable- belQOfs iuasmuch aa be was not a profane man, and averse to taking unnecessary oaths; but he would swear-yes, he'd be hanged if he wouldn't—that a little while ago there was only one candle on the table, whereas now there were two. As these seemed to have "power to add to their number," James deemed it advisable to take a walk round the room, in accordance with Peter's instruc- tions. Alas! for the fallibility of the human race. James was in the best of health, but somehow or other his legs refused to perform their accustomed office, and, after one or two cannons against the wall, he fell rather than seated himself upon a saddle-bag which lay oonveniently handy. I suppose- (hic)-I'ni-(hic)-gettiiig drunk," he soliloquised, looking vaguely around him. Pulling himself together with an extraordinary effort, and regaining his legs, he managed to seat himself in a ohair, and, assuming a position which was meant to be dignified, but was very much the reverse, he fixed his eyes on the door with the firm intention of not removing them uutil the morning. How long he remained in this position he could not tell, but presently the door opened, and a figure clad in a long black cloak crept stealthily in. Jemmy's first impulse was to speak, and ask the visiter his business, but seeing that he appeared not to notice his presence in the room our hero deemed caution the best policy, and determined to watch the course of events. Steadily old Simon-for Jem felt assured the apparition was none other-crept across the room, feeling his way by means of the wall until he neared the stable-door, which he proceeded to slowly open. "Now," thought James, "is the time for action," and he proceeded to follow his mysterious vis; tor. No unsteadiness of the legs now! No lack of courage, physical or moral -indeed, the valiant Jem felt he could face a whole regiment of horse-doctors," armed though they were to the teeth. Forward crept qld Simon, and by the aid of a dark-lantern which he produced James could see that he was satisfying himself as to the identity of the horse he had come to doctor." Evidently the inspection of Pompey was satisfactory, for, setting down the lantern, he proceeded to feel in his pockets for a small round box, from which he took something— Jem could only guess what. Closer and closer to the horse's head he approached, and in a few moments his fell purpose would be accomplished, 'I Now," thought James, I; is the time for action," and, jumping up from his place of concealment, he sprang upon the would-be poisoner. Fiercely the latter struggled, for it would, indeed, be a blot upon old Simon's escutcheon to be taken so easily, and by a mere stable-lad. Jem had not the least inten- tion of letting him go,however,and thestruggle continued until- Let go, you d-d fool! What are you doing ? Let go of my collar, I say Oh, no, you aint going yet, old cook I've e, got you this time, and I means to keep you!" Mean to keep jne, do you ? Why, wake up, you precious idiot—it's nearly seven o'clock. A pretty sort of watchman you make, I don't think." Recognising the voice as that of Peter, who had come to call him, and gradually becoming awake to the situation, Jem rubbed his eyes and exclaimed: Why, where's old Simon ?" Old Simon, why. what on earth is the fellow talking about? Ob, I twig, you've been dreaming, young 'un, and fancied you'd caught him. Ha! ha! ba!" And Peter laughed till the tears ran down his face, muoh to Jem's chagrin. A glanoe at the whisky bottle, the con- tents of which had undergone a very con- siderable diminution, enlightened the head lad still further as to the cause of Jem's obfuscation, and he insisted on the latter accompanying him to the pump in the yard, where he gave that young gentleman such a taste of the cold water cure that his eyea were effectually opened. Returning to the harness-room, a visit was immediately paid to Pompey, who, it was found, had passed a good night, and whose eye was bright and clear, while his legs handled as firm to the touch as bars of iron. Jem was, in fact, not a little proud of his charge as he led him on to the oourse, and afterwards walked at his head as he paraded the paddock. After the storm of the previous night the day was bright and fine, and the temperature remarkably mild for December. There were nine runners for the Morley Handicap Steeplechase, and Jem's face beamed with satisfaction as he lifted Captain Bay- liss, who owned the horse, into the saddle, I for Pompey bad given great satisfaction to the paddock critics, and was now a very I warm favourite. Nor was the confidence of the horse's sup- porters without justification, and after holding I a good place throughout, the pink and black cap was carried first past the post a gallant winner by two lengths. One of Captain Bayliss's first acts after dis- mounting was to present Master James with a "fiver for the careful manner he had watched over the horse. Needless to say, our hero kept this fact to himself, for he was not without certain twinges of conscience as to whether be deserved the recognition. On returning home to Newmarket Jem had to submit to a lot of chaff on the subject of his enoounter with the horse doctor," and to his enoounter with the horse doctor," and to this day he is frequently asked by his tor- menterB if he has recently seen the Harness Room Ghost."—Illustrated Bits,

At Bow-street. Police-courr, London, on Friday two men, named Murray and Willis. were fined J6190 each for keeping a betting-house in Chancery- lane. An inquest was held at St. George's Hospital, London, on Friday on the body of Mrs. Anne Cotlin". aged 23, ot Beauchamp-place, Brompton- road, Kensington, stated to be the wife of a Government official at Cape Town. Deceased was visiting England for Christmas and to see her friends. It was stated that she had a sister in Edinburgh, where her family were at one time well known. The evidence was to the effect that while in R fainting fit deceased fell into tho fire and died from the injuries. A verdict of Aeci* dental death was returned. A married woman named Anno Margaret Jackson, residing at Birkdale, Southport, was choked while eating an orange in the Blundell Arms Hotel, Birkdale. She hud taken dinner to her husband, and on her way home she called at the house mentioned, and was supplied with a glass of whisky. On leaving the premises she fell on the doorstep, and as she was slightly injured she was assisted into the hotel, and allowed to rest for a few moments. During the time she remained there she commenced to eat an orange, a piece of which stuck in her throat and suffocated her death ensuing before the arrival of a doctor. The Ceutrul News understands that a snort in" event of great it tsrest will come off some time early in March between the towns of Leicester and Melton, in the form of a driving match between two of the best whips and horsemen in Great Britain, viz., the premier earl of England, the Earl of Shrewsbury and Talbot, and the Earl of Lonsdale. The terms of the match, which are now being arranged, are to cover a contest of twenty miles in four sections of five miles each, the first five with single harness, the second five' with a pair, the third five riding postillion with a pair, and the fourth five four-in-hand irml coachei. GILOCEVS SCALBS, Canisters, Mills, Machinery Counters, Fixtures, Sundries, and Shop Fittings of every description.—Pai nail and Sous, 21 and 22, Narrow Wine- street. Bristol. 9781o PARRY AND ROCKE'S Welsh Yarns are the best. |

A RACE FOR LIFE. Writes Joaquin Miller in St. Nidolas I happened to be in Lewiston, on my way to Pieroe City with the Express (Mossman and Miller's Express), when the ragged and sunburnt leader of the party that had made the discovery of gold bryond the Blaok Moun- tain came in. He took me into his confidenoe. I sent an Indian on with my Express; and branching off a hnndred miles to the south- east, reached the new mines, took up "claims," and opened an Express Office before a dozen people knew of the discovery which was to give State after State to the American Union. You will find the place on the old maps, and some of the new ones, marked "Millersburgh." But there is no.town there now. The gold lay almost in the grass-roots, in the shallow surface, like grains of wheat. It was a high bleak place, densely wooded and intensely cold as winter came on. Greater discoveries lay further on, and in kindlier ohmes, and broad valleys and rich cities receive you there now. But our story is of the snow and the stony steeps of mount I- dah-ho. Returning to Lewiston with saddle bags nearly full of gold, I wrote the first pub- lished account of the discovery; and the new mines were naturally called in publica- tion, as they were called by all that excited mass of people from Lewiston on their way to the mines beyond the Black Mountain, the "IdaAho Mines." The name, however, like that of Omah-ha, soon lost in the mouths of stranger, its soft, sweet sound. California now emptied her miners, good and bad, gamblers, robbers, desperados, right in upon our new mines, and the roads thither. My young partner, a daring and dashing boy, who, as I write, is visiting me here after thirty years, had many desperate encounters. Suddenly, as winter came on, the rivers closed with ice, and horsss could not go and steamers could not come. I was lying ice-bound at Lewiston. Men wanted to send money below to their friends or families t merchants, anticipating the tre- mendous rush, must get letters through the snow to Walla Walla. Would I go ? Could I go? The snow was deep. The trails, over open and monotonous mountains, were drifted full. Could any living man face the drifting snow and find his way to Walla Walla p At first the merchants had tried to hire Indians to undertake the trip and deliver their letters. Not one could be found to go, "When the storm abated a little the men who kept the ferry across the Shoahonee River scraped off the snow, and cutting down the upheaved blocks of ice made it possible to cross with a horse. I picked out a stout iron-grey steed, with head in the air, an eye like an eagle, and a mane that tossed and tumbled like a thunderstorm. At first I meant to carry only letters. But having finally consented to take a little gold for one merchant, I soon found I should lose friends if I did not take gold for others. The result was that I had to take gold worth nearly ten thousand dollars. A few muffled-up friends came down to the river bank to see me off. It was a great event. For two weeks we had not had a line from the outer world. And meantime the civil war was raging in all its terrible fury. As I set out. that bleak and icy morning, after I bad mounted my plunging pony I saw in the crowd several faces that I did not like. There was Dave English, who was hung on that spot with several of his followers not forty days later; there was Boone Helm, hung in Montana; Cherokee Bob, killed in Millers- burgh and also Canada Joe. This last lived with some low Ijidijina a little way down the river. So wb<M) he rode ahead of me I was rather glad than otherwise, for I felt that he would not go far. I kept watch of him, however. And when I saw that he skulked around under the hill, as if he were going home, and then finally got back iuto the trail, I knew there was trouble ahead. But the "Rubicon "was now behind. My impetuous horse was plunging in the snow, and I was soon tearing through the storm up the hill. Once fairly on my way I looked bacii below. Dave English and Boone Helm were bidding good-by to two mounted cow- boys at the ferry hl)use. Ten minutes later, as Hooked back through the blinding snow, I saw that these two desperate fellows were following me. True, there was nothing criminal in that. Ihe two hignwaymen had a right to ride be- hind me if they wished. And Canada Joe bad just as good a right to ride ahead of me. But to be on ahorse, deep in the blinding snow and loaded down with gold was bad L enough. To have a desperado blocking the 'o narrow trail before you with his two friends behind you was fearful I I had two six-shooters close at hand under the bearskin flap of my saddle-bag where the go!d was. I kept my left hand in my pocket where lay a small six-shooter warm and ready. Onoe, as the drifting and blinding snow broke away up the mountain, I saw Canada Joe with his head bent down in the storm still pushing on ahead of me at a safe distance. A few moments after, as I crossed and climbed the farther bank of an ugly canon, the two robbers came close enough to hail me. One of them held up a bottle. They evidently intended to overtake me if they could, and profess to be friendly. This I must not allow. I urged my ambitious horse to his best. But, to my dismay, as I hastened up « narrow pass I found that I was not far behind Canada Joe. This low-browed blaok fellow was reported to be the worst man in all that country. And that wa3 saying he was bad indeed, I was in a tight place now, and had to think fast. My first plan was to ride forward and face this man before the others came up. But I was really afraid of him. It seemed a much easier task to turn and kill the two rear men and get back to town. But, no No I All this was abandoned almost as soon as thought of. In those days, even the most desperate had certain rights, which their surviving friends would enforce. I remember that I fell to wondering what the murderers would do with my body. I had a horror of being eaten by wolves. 1 then thought of the true and trusting men who had sent me forth on my responsible task and I took heart. I was now but a few hundred yards behind Canada Joe. So far as I could L nd out, the robbers were closing in on me. But we had ridden over the roughest part of the road and were within a few miles of the high plateau so that the wind was tearing past in a gale, and the drifting snow almost blinded me. Suddenly I had a new thought. Why not take to the left, gain the plateau by a new route, and let those bloodthirsty robbers close their net without having me inside? I rose in my saddle with excitement at the idea, and striking spurs to my brave house I was soon climbing up the gradual slope at a gallop. A b, but I was glad I Gallop! gallop! gallop 1 I seemed to hear many horses I Turning my head suddenly over my shoulder, I saw my two pursuers not a hundred yards behind me. They shouted I I was now on the high plateau, and the snow was not so deep. Gallop I gallop! Canada Joe- thank Heaven !—was away to the right, and fast falling behind. Gallop! gallop I gallop 1 I was gaining on the robbers and they knew it. Fainter and fainter came their curses and their shouts! And then: Whiz! Crack! Thud? I looked back and saw that they both had thrown themselves from their saddles and were taking deliberate aim. But to no purpose. Not one shot touched me or my horse, and I reached the first station, and, finally, rode into Walla Wallaj with my precious burden, safe and Bound.

WINNING A PRIZE, The last electioneering partisan bitterness had separated the gentry of the neighbour. hood of Wildersley, and it was far t becoming a painful question by what means they should again be brought to a right feeling. At < length the happy expedient of ar archery meeting was hit upon, and a committee at once appointed to confer upon the happy theme. Subtle points came up to be disputed at the committee meeting. First, who should be invited, and it was to be a thoroughly respec- table affair, none but undoubted gentry were to be admitted. Then the question came up with the squires, What is a gentleman ?" Some one defines it as one who has plenty of money. Another, He who has retired from business ten years." But as the first would admit Mr. Short, whom no one could endure, and the second would exclude Aubrey Venables, who had never been in business, but who was univer- sally acknowledged as an undoubted gentle. man, the committee were thrown on their own resources. There were, moreover, sundry little hater, bitter as those of Highlanders and handed down with the faithfulness of the Capulets, to be tenderly dealt with. Among these pri- vate feuds were those of the Venables and the Browns, which had increased in the same ratio that the fine old estate of the Venables had changed owners, passing into the hands of the more fortunate Mr. Brown, whose display of mere wealth was a sharp thorn in the side of his aristocratic neighbour. At the time our story opens the old feud had descended, in a sort of heirloom, to Mr. Aubrey Venables, who bad just returned from foreign travel. Great was the joy of Lucy, the sister of our hero, as the archery meeting drew nigh; and loud was she in praises of her friend. Emmeline Brown, as she strolled with her handsome brother beneath the fine old oaks of the manse. "I cannot think," exclaimed Aubrey, on j one of these occasions, how it is these Brown. have so risen in favour. Pray, does Mist Emmeline inherit her father's want of beauty or her mother's vulgarity P" You deserve not to be answered," replied Lucy, a tear trembling in her eye. Emme- line is a veritable rosebud." Of the cabbage species, I presume,* replied Aubrey. Luoy drew her arm from his, and for once was really provoked with her handsome brother. "Seriously, Lucy, tell me why it is that my mother and yourself are determined so spite. fully to like these Browns. I thought we had all agreed to hate them." Yes, brother but when papa died there was that lawsuit, Mr. Brown dropped it at once." "Mightbe policy," was the curt reply. "Really, Aubrey, you are too bad! Then mamma had the quinsy, and Mr. Hrown mounted his fleetest horse, and went miles for the physician who saved her life." I am vanquished; I can say no morel said the brother. "But dear Lucy, do not press your sweet Emmeline upon my notice." » ■ » » i. The morning of the arohery meeting dawned beautifully, and at an early hour the grounds of Walton Hall were thronged with groups of the young people of the vicinity. Green and silver was the not unbecoming costume of the occasion and young girls in delicate fabrics and their stately mothers in brocade and pearl jewellery, might ba seen threading the avenues of the park. As Venables greeted Sir Henry Walton,the lord of the manor, who was an old friend of his father, he was somewhat disturbed by a slap on the shoulder, and, turning, beheld his old enemy, Mr. Brown. Constraining himself, he returned the rude shake of the band, with mere cold politeness bowing to Mrs. Brown, who, in rouge and good humour, looked like a full-blown peony. At a little distanoe, as if retreating from notice, stood a beautiful girl. The soft brown hair thrown back from a faultless forehead, the blue eyes veiled by her long lashes, and the expres* sion of the lips betokened a heart kind and true. Her dress was of the palest shade of green silk, and silver acorns were woven in its finish. A garland of oak leaves was twisted in her hair, and at her side hung a small silver quiver. Aubrey coloured as Lucy pre- sented him to her friend, and he soon returned to greet Mr. Brown more cordially. Among the competitors for the prize it was soon found none were to be named with Luoy and her friend; and loud and long was the applause as the arrow of Emmeline Brown struck that of Luoy Venables within the ring. The prize was to be awarded after a cold collation, and as competitors, Lucy and Emmeline stood alone. When all were again gathered ou the green Emmeline could not be found, and Lucy, declaring she would not take advantage of this circumstance, wandered to the verge of the park, where an artificial cascade flung its I music on the air. Seated on the spreadmg root of an aged oak, she here found her friend, and the two, happy in each other's company, soon forgot their mook conflict.. "Oh, Luoy, you dear good girl! How kin4 of you to send my dress; and your felioitouffY taste is so charming. I have not yet expressed/1 the obligation I am under." i Not nearly as lovely as the roses sentlas$i spring, for whioh I leave Aubrey to thank'? you, as he is ooming this way." The bearer of good tidings, fair ladies," he said, turning in his hand a beautiful, richly- chased silver arrow, which he presented with a bow, to Emmeline. '• Ob, no she said; "Luoy was the suc- cessful candidate. I retired from the field." Nevertheless, young lady, it has pleased the judges to award the first prize to you, but as Lucy was second only to yourself, she also has an arrow." And he plunged a similar weapon through the golden locks of hie sister. "Really, Mr.Venables, I cannot receive it4 Emmeline replied. It is not just." "Let your father settle the point," he replied. "I also claim a prize!" And he drew her reluctant arm within his own. Mr, Brown," he said, approaching the old gentle- man, who, weary with the labours of the day, was sitting alone, your daughter refuses the prize. Will you bestow it upon me, but with it the hand that holds it ?" Mr. Brown looked from one to the other then, with a smile lighting his benevolent face, placed the hand of Emmeline in that 01 Aubery Venables. t

CADBURY'S COCOA.—" A Cocoa possessing YaIU. able flesh-forming qualities, and imparting strength and ataying power." -ilealth. Le6 LITER COMPLAINTS—Dr. King's Dandelion and Quinine Liver Pills, without Mereciry, are a potent remedy; remove all Liver and 8tomnch Complaint*. Biliousness, Headache, Sickness. Shoulder Pains, Rearti bllrn, Indigestion, Constipation, Lo026'