Papurau Newydd Cymru
Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru
16 erthygl ar y dudalen hon
TRIPLE BOB MAJOR:
Copyright.) TRIPLE BOB MAJOR: THE STORY OF SOME CHRISTMAS CHIMES. BY ADELINE SERGEANT, Author of "Caspar Brooks' Daughter," Christmas Rose," &c. Believe in ghosts? No, I don't believe in ghosts exactly, but I've had one or two queer experiences in my time. One in particular— one that I've never heard any explanation of, and don't want to explain. Like to hear the story, sir 1 It isn't the common every-day ghost-story, you know in fact, there isn't a ghost in it. You could hardly call it a ghost- story if you tried, but it was an odd thing to happen, all the same. You'd like to hear it, you say? Well, sit down, and I'll tell you the story. I generally go over it every Christmas. My friends round about here like to hear it, though one would think that they'd heard it often enough but now and then there's a stranger present, or the young lads and lasses growing up say that they want it, or something and so I fall to telling it Christmas after Christmas, as I sit here by the fire, and listen to the Christmas chimes. Aye, there they go I was a ringer once in my young days, and many a time have I taken part in playing the chimes on Christmas Eve and at otherfestive times. We're famous for bell- ringing in this part of the world, you know, sir. They don't do it so well in the South, I've heard, as we do in the North—don't take such a pride in it, I believe. Our old church has got the finest peal o' bells in the county. And the squire's grandfather—dead more than sixty years ago—he that gwe the bells to tho church, left in his will that directly after his funeral the ringers was to go to the belfry and ring a triple bob major—the full chimes, you know, as takes a great deal of skill to do, and of which we were always proud in this village of doing well. They did it as soon as ever his body was laid in the grave, and they did it with a will. I can just remember it myself, and they say those bells could be heard five-and-twenty miles off when the wind was set in that direction, and that the people in Saltbury streets-twenty-five miles away if it's a step—stopped their work to listen. Well, he was buried on a Christmas Eve, and partly out of memory of him, and partly in honour of the day, it's been the custom ever since, sir, for the ringers of this little village of Denby to go up to the belfry every Christmas Eve and give a triple bob major, as reg'lar as the year comes round. Twenty-five miles seems a good way for the sound of those bells to travel, don't it, sir ? What would you say if I told you that they'd been heard thousands o' miles away ? You'd laugh at me, I suppose, as strangers. mostly do. But just let me tell you my story. I was born and bred in the village of Denby, and one of the first things I remember was the triple bob major rung on these bells when the old squire died. I'll be one o' those ringers myself when I grow up," I said to my mother then—she's often repeated the words. "I'll help to ring those chimes when I'm a man." And so I did, and was one of the best bell- ringers in the parish by the time I was one-and- twenty. I thought a good deal of myself at that time, I can tell you. I was a clever workman, a prosperous man in my way six foot two in my stocking-feet, and fresh-complexioned and well-looking, as I was told. The parson and the squire both made a good lot of me, and I suppose I was as hare-brained and conceited a young chap as you could have found in all the country-side. But the conceit was taken out of me when my time came. I was about three-and-twenty when I met Kate Ashworth, and fell head over ears in love with her. She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen, and she was a stranger in Denby— which made her charm the greater, as I've heard people say—and there was scarce a young fellow in the place as did not lose his heart over her. Straight as a young poplar she was, and graceful as a fawn or a kitten with big mischievous brown eyes and hair that wouldn't lie straight upon her forehead with a bloom on her cheeks liketheftushof a rose-leaf, and pretty pouting red lips that seemed to beg you to kiss them, though she would have been mighty angry if you had accepted the invitation. She was a good, sweet, innocent girl, as full of fun as she could be, but meaning no harm, mind you, and willing to cut off he: right hand sooner than hurt you—if she could he. it. She couldn't help it that was the worst of it. She was so pretty and winsome and sweet that we lost our heads as well as our hearts. And mischief followed, as it always does when men lose their heads about a girl. "0 Andrew," she said to me once, with her pretty eyes red with crying, "I do wish they'd leave me alone. Father wants me to do one thing and mother another and then there's you—and—and Frank Yes, that was the mischief of it. There was Frank Frank Norris was my cousin, and, till he saw Kate, he had always been my friend. I'd been first in the field. I had got Kate to go out walking with me, which is what we call keeping company in this part o' the world, and Frank had no right to interfere. We weren't, so to speak, right down promised to each other, Kate and me, but we was next door to it, and I had made up my mind that we would be married by Christmas, when Cousin Frank came home from Saltbury and spoiled it all. He was not the sort of man that we men admire, poor chap but he had a way with him that women seemed to like. He was not more than five foot ten in height, and a bit spare and pale looking, but he had big dark eyes and a wonderful voice, fit to charm a bird off a tree— so sweet and clear it was. To hear him sing was something you don t easily i.orget, and what with his singing, and his dark eyes, and the soft caressing ways of him, he won Kate's heart away from me, and nearly drove me mad with jealous rage. More than once I thought I'd pick a quarrel with him, and give him such a thrashing as he d never had in all his days before. More than once I went so far as to wish in my own soul that I could stick a knife into him and end his life and my own, but I folt that it was the devil that was trying to enter into me, and 1 kept it out as well as I knew how. And at last I went to Kate, and I begged her to tell me true whether it was me or Frank that she cared for, and what she wanted me to do. Well, sir, I don't blame Kate. Some people might blame her, but I don't. I know that I was in a blind rage, and must have frightened her out of her senses. Any way, she coaxed me and kissed me, and said she loved me dearly, and what was Frank to her ? and so on, until she had calmed me down, and sent me back to my work quite happy and trustful, and almost hoping that she'd be my wife at Christmas after all. But she put me off and put me off, and nothing was settled when the next triple bob major was rung at Denby church steeple on Christmas Eve. Nothing between her and me, I mean, for thete -was something settled between her and Frank that very night, and on Christmas morning we all knew that she had run off with him and left not even a word behind to say that she was sorry -for what she'd done. It was all up with me then. I left off my work, and my bell-ringing, and everything else I'd taken an interest in. At first I went on the drink, but, thank God not for long. I wasn't my way. But 1 Coulclnt live in lJenbY after ihat. I was restless and unfit for anything, and finally 1 left the place and took my passage for ":110 States, and loafed about there for a number f years, vithout once writing home nor he;u-g what had Vecome of Frank and Kate. You think that odd, may be ] Well, not so odd as it might appear. I had no near relation left-father and mother and all was gone, and seemed no reason why I should care for Qonby more than any other place. Indeed, I a sort of loathing at the thought of it, and caid to myself that I could never bear to go nigh the place again. Eh, dear, how things fall out, for you see hn ending my days at Denby after One of the things that riled me most was the thought of the Denby bella. It was while we were getting through that triple bob major on Christmas Eve that Fiapk and Kate went off. If I'd not been in the belfry, busily engaged, as they knew well, all that time, they might not r £ iurul it sa in -cRt. awai. A nrl ESB gave me a sort of sickening Horror of the chimes, so that it seemed to me I would rather die than hear them rung again. No," I said to myself, "no more of your bell-ringing for me, thankee. I'd sooner forgive Frank Norris for the wrong he's done me than listen to another triple bob major rung on the Denby bells," says I. "And III do neither, so help me God I said. And a wicked oath it was, sir, and one that would ha* been better honoured by breaking than by keep. ing, as I'm told the poet says. For my anger was hot against Frank and against his wife, and I would have made them suffer, if I could, for all that I had suffered for their sake. There'snoneed to tellyou the history of the next few years. Sometimes I prospered, sometimes I had bad luck—generally the latter. I drifted from place to place, too restless to stay long r.r.ywhere, and generally preferring the wildest and most outlandish spots, chiefly because I wanted to be out of reach of what folks call the "church-going bell." I couldn't bear the bells If ever I had to be in a city, I kept out of their way as well as I could, even going the length of riding into the country—prairie, hill, or forest, whichever came handiest—so that I should never bear those awful church-going bells. It was like a kind of madness, as you may say, sir, and it can honestly tell you—ten years or ::(¡¡8. v ell, at the end 01 years I was in an out- landish place enough. I needn't explain how I came there. I was helping some men, mostly Americans, to load a vessel with timber. In order to get it we had to go inland a little distance, rowing up the river in small boats to the spots where the best trees were to be found, mid camping out for a night or two in places where we thought it worth our while to stay. it was a queer, swampy place, very unhealthy warming with mosquitoes and venomous rep- lies, and the water full of alligators, or cay- as they call them in those parts. Even noonday it was dark, for the trees almost met iverhead, above the narrow stream, and were ioincd together by creepers as thick as my arm, j t h great yellow and scarlet flowers growing on hem. Ttm monkeys used to climb along those reeper-rqpss, and sit on the trees jabbering and aalang fJS at us. It was an uncanny place, ml it gave me the feeling that I'd relied a spot which God had forgotten, and iat if there was any Power about, it was a Vwer of Evil. The fearful cries and screams hat rang in our ears at night used to wake me p all in a cold sweat, many and many a time nd the Portuguese sailors who were with us ;sed to cross themselves whenever they heard we wild noises—to keep the devils away, they id, poor heathen souls At night we hung our hammocks between the rees, wrapped ourselves in blankets, and tried sleep as best we could. Before we were there long we found that we in the neighbourhood of an Indian camp, d as we knew that our safety lay in friendship ith the natives, we laid ourselves out to be •vil, and to make them all sorts of small resents. The men had gone off on a fighting r hunting expedition, we discovered, and only he women, children, and aged folk remained ehind. The women brought us fruit, and owed us how to snare the birds they were rnple and good-natured, and, while young, lender and extremely beautiful. With one of these women I made friends, fot took a fancy to her children, a black eyed baby ■lid a fine little fellow of about five years old, rliom I managed to cure of a fever by some imple remedies that I carried about with me. • lie mother's gratitude knew no bounds. She ■•'as always bringing me fruit and native de- cades of every kind, and once or twice 1 saw hat she was trying to communicate some piece f information to me but as we each knew only few words of the other's language, the attempt 'as at fust a failure. At sundown one day, however, she managed o make me understand that someone in the 'amp was ill, and that she thought I could cure lim. I hesitated at first about going, as I fancied hat it might be only a trap, and that they wanted to take me prisoner but her soft eyes ookcd so melancholy and so appealing, and her gestures were so eloquent, that I yielded at last, nd followed her to the camp. he took me into a small tent, which stood ather apart from the rest of the Indian' dwell- age. and there I saw a man lying on the round, evidently in the grip of the fever which Grangers were liable to in that part of the world. iut I saw at once that he was no Indian. He as dressed in European clothing, and the words hat he muttered in his delirium were English .vords. And the name that recurred oftenest .vas one that had once been familiar to me, and leeply loved. Kate! Kate!" he liuttcred again and again. "Come to me, Kate, 'ny Fate You will guess who it was. Before I could 3ee his face, in the dim light of the tent, I knew •ihat I had found my cousin, my enemy, the man had torn from me the woman 1 loved bettet ban my soul. Frank Norris lay helpless before :ie in that lonely Indian tent. I never knew exactly how he came there. I that he was a prisoner of war, and that a horrible by lingering torture lay before iiirn. Better to die of fever than to die that way. Better still to escape from the camp alto- gether to be placed in one of our boats, and taken to the vessel at the mouth of the river, where perhaps he could be nursed back to life and health. It was I who had to decide his fate. It lay in my hands, and I had sworn to punish Frank Norris for his treachery to me, if ever the chance were mine. And it was mine now. What should I do ? I laughed aloud. I think that for fie moment I wns a little mad. Lights danced before my eyes strange voices sounded in my ears a sort of drunkenness seemed to take possession of my whole being. "Ah, ha I cried The Lord hath delivered my enemy into my hands. And as I said the words my cousin opened his eyes and looked at me, and the light of memory came back into his wan and sunken face. Andrew he said. "Yes, I am here," I answered. It is no dream ? said he. "Not a bit of it," I said. "It's Andrew Norris, in the flesh, whom God has brought here to punish you for the wrong you did him ten years ago." He looked at me without a word, and 1 thought that his large dark eyes were very sad. What shall I do ?" I asked him. My best plan would be to cure you of your fever, and leave you to be burnt and hacked to pieces by tiiese Indian devils, I think. They have a wa, of roasting their captives piecenvyil.- which out- "nos :mvtlung we En^lishnr could dream of Or 1 could Kill you now, as you lie there, only 1J seems too merciful to let you die so quickly, blow, lingering torture would be best." tl I had my knife in my hand, and I let him see dde g etanfl. hBut he looked at me steadily, and 1 110 lIlC. All right, Andrew, ho said, in his faint, weary voice. I deserve it, my boy. I treated you shamefully and I've treated her badly too. She doesn t know where I am. I got tired-I ran away from her, brute that I was. Kill mo if you like, but go back and tell her-tell her that I repented—before I died." You are right in saying that you were a brute, I answered grimly, for I didn't believe 111 his penitence, you see—no, not one bit 1 thought he was putting it on to humbua *mo I've sworn to punish you, and I mean to do it' whatever you say. The only question is whether I shall kill you now or leave it for tho Indians to do "Kill me now," he said, and tore his vest open, so as to leave it easy for me to use the knife. I lifted it-I lifted it high as my head, and God knows I meant to use it, too, when I heard something which made my hand fall as if it had been struck powerless. Frank heard it too. He raised himself a little on his side and listened. There, in the midst of a South American forest, with no Christian church within miles of us, and at the very spot where I had said I could not feel that there was a God, we both of us, believe me or not, as you choose—we both of us heard the bells of Denby Church. "It's Denby bells," said Frank, looking me in the eyes. "A triple bob major," I muttered back, after listening for a minute or two longer. So it must be Christmas Eve." I dropped the knife. Before I' knew what I was doing I was on my knees. And there, 'T T _hq=-4 that triple oob major which the ringers always play on the bells of Denby steeple on Christmas Eve. When at last it died away I found that I was holding my cousin by the hand. "Forgive me, Andrew, I heard him say. "I wronged you but it's Christmas time, and we've heard what no man has ever heard before- the bells of Denby steeple five thousand miles away." "I swore before God that I'd never forgive you, Frank, and that I'd never listen to those bells again," I said, with a sob in my voice that almost choked me when I tried to say the words. But I've done both now, and I ask you to forgive me, too, Frank—dear old Frank. And I'll get you away from this blessed old hole, and cure your fever, and take you back to England, and, please God, you and me and Kate will listen together to the chimes from Denby steeple next Christmas Eve." And then I fell to blubbering like a female, and Frank looks at me out of those great dark eyes of his, and says, Kiss me, Andrew," says he, for I'm dying, Andrew, and I can't hardly see your face." And as I kissed him I thought I heard the bells of Denby Church again but 'twas only for a moment, and when I lifted up my face poor Frank was dead. I told my comrades about him, and some of us dug a grave for him, and said a prayer or two, and planted a wooden cross at the head of the grave. But from that moment I couldn't rest until I found a way of getting back to Eng- land for I wanted to go to Denby and hear tho bells again. Also I wanted sorely to find poor Kate, and tell her of her husband's end. I found her, as I had expected, at Denby village so changed, so broken down, that no one would have thought her the same woman—ex- cept one who loved her as I did. Yes, I loved her still, and when she had recovered from the sorrow of Frank's desertion and of Frank's death, she learned—my Kate !-to love me too. But, as I have often told her, it was not love of Kate, after all, but the bells of Denby Church that brought me home. And they gave us a triple bob major on our wedding-day. There the ringers are striking up again. I'm an old man, now, but I love to hear them still. Go where you will, sir, you'll not often hear a finer performance than a triple bob major on the bells of Denby church But you'll never hear it, as I heard it, in a South American forest, five thousand miles away from home.
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BLOBBS Did you spend a pleasant ,acation, Slobbs No; my wife attends to all the spending. STRANGER I would like to see your bill collector a moment? Editor: Certainly; John, hand tho gentleman that shotgun. "No, Maude, dear, the tailor would scarcely make a good matrimonial agent, although he does press other people's suits for them." WHAT do you think of your engagement ring ?" You dear, sweet old boy, it's the handsomest I ever had—I mean I like it ever so much." Miss Plancphacs (exhibiting her photograph) Everybody says it does not do me justice.—Miss Pert: Evidently the artist was a man of tact. MRS. BROWN You really must join our sewing circle.—Mrs. Jones My dear, I haven't the time to spare. I have to do so much mending for the ciiildren. HARRY I cannot offer you wealth, Ethel; my brains are all the forture I possess.—Ethel: Oh, Harrv, if you are as badly off as that, I am afraid 11, papa will never give his consent." OLD Lady: Well, here's a sixpence for ve but I should hate to feel that I was encouraging ye to drink.—Tramp I don't need 110 encouragement, mum. EMPLOYER (to new office boy): Has the cashier told you what vou have to do in the afternoon r- Youth Yes, sir; I was to wake him up when I saw you coming. SiiE: I think there is considerable room for im- provement in ladies' dresses nowadays.—He Well, in sleeves especially, I should say there was room enough for anything. MRS. KIRBY (to her small son) Well, Johnny, what's the matter.—Johnny Sister says that she is an advanced woman, and I've got to watch the doll:: while she sails the toy boat. YES," said the old man, I have always found it best to pay cash. I have paid cash for everything I've got but my wife. I got her for nothing, and the's the dearest thing I ever got." Miss Dashgirl I thought you told me you could rvwim i—Caddie Fopley I—I cawn, I assuali you, in s-some places, but the water is so ducedly thin liere, don't you know, that it won't hold me up. WOJIAX I want to buy a book for a little Boston Loy. Have you anything you can recommend ? —Clerk Yes, ma'am. We have just received Jack and the Beanstalk' in words of five syllables. WHAT was the most confusing case you ever had?" asked the doctor of the lawyer. "Case o' champagne," returned the lawyer. I hadn't been half through it before I was all muddled up." <• WHAT in the name of Jupiter have you sewn up all the pockets of my overcoat for? asked Mr. Wil- son. My dear," said Mrs. Wilson, I have an important letter to my milliner that I want you to post." SUITOR I fear it is a great presumption on my part, sir, to aspire to your daughter's hand, as I only keep a shop. Her father That does not matter, young man; the question is, does the shop keep you ? I I -A,lknTzy you?" she said provokingly, "why,you are nodiing but a child Then I can have you arrested," said he. Arrested ? For what?" "For cruelty to children," he said. And she col- lapsed. "EXCUSE me," said the mystified one, "I may appear impertinent,but my curiosity has got so much the best of me that I venture a question." What is it? Are you a gentleman going golfing or a lady going cycling ? ETHEL: So Arthur proposed last night. 2riiid Yes. Ethel: And did you accept him? Maud I Was so dreadfully excited, I don't know whether I did or not. If he comes to-night, I did, and if ho doesn't. I didn't.
WRECKED IN A SNOWSTORM.
WRECKED IN A SNOWSTORM. The Gipsy King, a fishing-boat belonging to Mr. Cummins, Isle of Man, was wrecked in Llandudno Bay at 1.30 on Tuesday morning. The crew were from Hovlake, and consisted of Thomas Cooper, master, William Cooper, mate, Fred Jackson, and Fred Roberts. In an interview the master said that t lie boat left Llandudno on Monday to go fish- ing in the bay, where large catches have been made during the week. A heavy storm, accompanied by a fall of snow, set in about eleven o'clock at night. He stood in for the land to avoid the seas breaking over the boats. In the early morning she struck the bottom, and at once began to fill. The crew took to the punt aud beat about the bay till live o'clock on Tuesday morning before they could effect a landing. They were then nearly starved to death, and were two hours on the shore before they saw anyone who could direct. them. They then went to Mr. S. Dunphy, the local agent of the Shipwrecked Mariners' Society who assisted them to get back to their homos.
GIGANTIC COAL FI RE.
GIGANTIC COAL FI RE. A big fire has been raging for several day? s. Portsmouth, and up to Tuesday night the strenuous efforts to extinguish it had proved un- successful. The scene of the outbreak is the coaling pcin in the dockyard, where some 20,000 tons of- coal are held in reserve for the use of her Majesty's ships. A large quantity of the coal has been spoiled. Men are working day and night turning over the heap for the purpose of extinguishing the lire, but without success. The fire has been caused by heaping the coal stacks too high, owing to the exceedingly limited space for storage.
TORQUAY'S LATEST VENTURE.
TORQUAY'S LATEST VENTURE. A Palm Court—the idea of which was derived by the Mayoress from the Palmen Garten at FranJdort-on-Mai n-was opened at the Bath. Saloons, Torquay on Tuesday. It is the first venture of tho kind to be established in this country. The larger Bath Saloon has been con- verted into a most delightful resort, in which great palms, dracamas, and other sub-tropical plants abound. In all there are upwards of 1,000 plants. The scheme was devised by the borough surveyor. Concerts are to be given ai he Pahn Court twice on each Tuesday, Wednes- day, and Thursday. Tuesday's opening pro- ceedings were marked by the presentation to the Mayoress (Mrs. Bcavis) of a public testimonial in the shape of a handsome pearl and diamond neck- lace in appreciation of her services as Mayoress last year, and in recognition of the fact that she is the first lady to serve in that capacity for two years.
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The Royal Commission on accidents to railway servants expect that their report will be presented in January. lS-
REMARKABLE CHRISTMAS DAYS.…
REMARKABLE CHRISTMAS DAYS. [From the "Million."] There were three of us. One was an actor of no mean repute, whose name will be everlast- ingly associated with comedy; another was a barrister, briefless, and, therefore, naturally hoping to be Lord Chief Justice in a year or two. The third was the Man in the Street, and we were gossiping after dinner at the Savage Club. The talk turned to Christmas, and curious experiences which had befell ua on that day of days—Christmas Day. "What was my most remarkable Christmas Day?" said the a tor. 1 can ea-ily tell you. Fifteen years ago 1 was fired from a travelling company on the ground of incapacity. The manager said I couldn't talk, couldn't: walk, and couldn't even take a thinking part. I N\-itli fifteen iy week's salary in my pocket., and paid my lodgings bill -tell sliillin,s. Then I set off on a hundred miles walk t,o T,oii(loii, with five shillings in hand. By the third day my fnndshad yauished i and I had to beg the rest of the journey." I reached London on It Day, and," Nveiit on the speaker, rising and moving to the windows of the club smoking-room, and j looking out upon the Thames Embankment, aglow with fairy lights, "then I spent the, night sleeping 011 the seats placed along this great riverside thoroughfare. Thieves, and worse than were my companions our slumbers were, ever and anon, interrupted by the policeman who insisted on our moving on. We moved 011 only to sink down again on another scat, and fell into the uneasy sleep from which we had been aroused. Happily, I j hadn't to sleep on the Embankmentagain,for, on Bankhoiiday, I met a friend in the Strand who helped me along until I was able to pay him back. And, thank God, that wasn't long j afterwards." "And you," said, I, turning to the barrister. "Ah! and me. My unhappiest Christmas happened when I was a nice boy of seventeen. My pater had a party, to which some fourteen old, old maids had been invited. It was iiiy sad duty to kiss these gushing, tender maidens —not one of whom was younger than forty—■ under the mistletoe." Horrible gasped actor and I. "But what were your extraordinary Christ- mas experiences" said the actor to me. "Two Christmas Days stand out boldly in my past; career,"I answered. "The first was when I spent the day and night in the White- cliftpcl Slieller of the Salvation Army. I went there for newspaper copy, and I brought away —Norfolk Howards, or members of some allied family. Two years afterwards I an execution on a Christmas Day, and in 110 way enjoyed my dinner after the poor culprit had been jerked into eternity. "Need I say, that one of the unpleasantcsfc sides of the journalist's life is that experienced when he lias to tlle Freiicli teri)i it,- at the execution of some poor wretch appointed to die. It may be that on the night previous to the day of execution his duties took him to the performance of some opera or play. But, whatever his work, be must be prepared on tho following morning to rise at five or six o'clock, snatch a hasty breakfast, and, with a sad heart, make his way to the prison, or gao', where the awful ceremony is to be performed. "Take my ease on th; particular Christmas Day. On arrival at (he prison doors a sma'1 wicket is opened, and [ and my colleagues are admitted into the waiting-room, w]I(re t!.0 Governor of the gaol awaited us. There, too, we meet the executioner, Billington, who take* a keen delight in explaining his methods of procedure. To the new hand at this kind of work, the quips and cranks which pass hetwc the hangman and the older newspaper III, I present are not a little disconcerting, 3.S t solemnity of the occasion forces itself strong'v upon him. At last the minutes of which seem hours, pass away, and eight o'c o, approaches. "The executioner, who has just told 11s f t the criminal passed a splendid night (?) nie.k. s his way to the condemned eel], where he nv ;e the warders who are to assist him in the v. > of pinioning the condemned man. Thisop< ra- tion was a horrible thing to see. The en; fought like a cat, and it required all t ie strength of four warders to fasten his a:i :s. Determined to give as much trouble as po. ble, he had to be carried to the scaffold, t there kicked violently whilst his legs w .o being fastened together. "The rest, is soon told. The murderer cursing his Maker, cursing the prison oiuciais, and cuvsing the Judge who had sentenced h 1 to death. He was an utter scoundrel, and v. were all glad when he shot from sight into t i pit below. As I left the prison I heard a belated band of carol singers chant.ing Chris- tians, awake! salute the happy morn It w:n queer music to hear—not snch as one would ever hear again as a funeral hymn, a requiem for a lost soul." I hope none of my readers will have any such experiences as those I have just described —especially the unhappy trial of my barrister friend. < It in ,t pic(,,q(liIly 1)11q. How do you like living in a flat, dear?" "Oh! it's simply delightful! Being on the sixth floor, I haven't to fasten my windows until I go to bed; and there's a man in the fiat above with a heavenly voice, who sings'Tommy Atkins'; while the little girl 011 the floor below plays 'The Gondoliers' "Waltz'; and, do you know, its just like listening to a German opera." Speaking of the German Opera reminds me of a visit 1 paid to a music-shop the other day for the purpose of buying a Christmas present. Whilst, being served, I turned over the pages of some cheap sheets of music lying here and there "Tommy Atkins," of course, reigned supreme; but it is of the lesser importallt airs that I wish to speak. One in particular appealed to my heart—as it should appeal to every heart—with touching power. It, dealt, if I remember aright, with a fond mother, who stood at a cottage door, watching her only Jack oil to sea." And her thoughts wander back to his uahyhnnd day", When she rocked him to sleep offer tea." Wecan imagine this, too, too fond mother gaz- ing far out to sea, and, as she gazes, hearing the sweet lullaby that she sang to her boy after the evening nmal, and in which he musically urged the innocent, toothless, and gurgling infant to. (Io to sleep my little baby, Close those laughing eyes so bright. Slumber 011 in dreams unbroken, Angels guard thee in the night I suppose we lIlust infer from the Jast line that, of course, the mother can guard him in the daytillH, 11,11(1 thus give the angels a rest until nightfall. By the time the second verse is reached mother is dying, and wonders anent the absent Jack, Could he have forgotten those bright, happy moments "When she rocked him to sleep after tea." Ami this tragical story is sung to the accom- paniment of a waltz tune
PAID FOR.
PAID FOR. "I say, Mr. Softly," remarked the family terror, aged ten, as he carefully scraped both his shoes upon Mr. Softly's patent leathers prior to his sisters appearance in the parlour "that box of toffy-candy yon sent sis at Christmas was prime. I et the whole of it." "Ah, did you?" replied Mr. Softly, gently removing hi" embryo llroliwr-in-law. "Yes. Sis doesn't tackle anything sticky with her iaise teetll, so I got it alL" And from the smothed whoops which were shortly heard proceeding from tite nursery it was evident that something sticky was taekling the family terror and that lie was again getting it all. His sister had overlieard his remarks. Better a paid pork chop than a fat turkey on tick. The small boy cannot be judged by his cou- iuct on Christmas Et a
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FATAL ACTDENT NEAR DENB-,GII.-On Wednesday at Denbigh Infirmary. Dr. Hughes held an inquest on the body of Isaac Jones, farmer's son, of Sarou, near Denbigh. It seems that he was in charge of a cart and two horses, by the side of which be was walking. A friend was riding in the cart, who see- ing Jones's bat was blown off by the wind, jumped down to recover the hat. When be had done so, to his astonif-hment he saw Jones lying on his back on the road, having been injured by the horses' hoofs and the cart. Be was quite unconscious, and it was impossible to ascertain how the accident happened, but it is supposed he slipped and fell under the horses. The right legr was fractured in two places two ribs and the nose broken, and the face terribly disfigured. He died from these and internal iujur. ies at the infirmary. A verdict of accidental death was retuaned. v;
THE COLONEL'S FEELINGS.
THE COLONEL'S FEELINGS. It was about a week before Christmas whor Colonel Smith was wandering homewarc upon the main thoroughfare of the city O) his adoption. The colonel was as full of thf spirit of the merry season as was the very air itself. He thought of the presents he was about to make and of those which he ex- pected to receive as he cast his eyes about him and saw the shop windows full of the latest novelties in toys. When he was lost in such a pleasant Christmas reverie as he hadn't had since he was a small boy, lie happened to pass along in front of a great marble hotel. At the time he was passing a painter was engaged in the act of retoning some of the inside blinds at an open window. It is not likely that it will ever be known just how it hap- pened, but the painter, while probably pre- occupied with dreams of the approaching holiday, toppled the pot of paint off the win- dow sill, from which point it whirled through the chilly ashen air and deposited about three-quarters of its contents upon the colonel. The latter was as red with rage as he was with paint when he new into and through z, the main entrance of that hotel and pre- sented himself at the office. "Sir!" exclaimed the colonel in a tower- ing rage. "What kind of treatment do you call this, sir?" "Pretty rough," replied the clerk, not knowing exactly what to say, because lie was ignorant of the accident that had just happened. "I am glad," roared the colonel, with beautiful irony, that you are at least kind enough to assume an attitude of sympathy, 'but I am here, sir, to demand satisfaction for damages. As I was passing, sir, one of your painters, sir, upset a pot of red paint upon me, sir 1 Here the colonel paused for breath, and the clerk, learning the cause of his trouble, became very profuse in his apologies. I am sorry it happened, sir, very sorry. But you should not be so unreasonable as to PRETTY ROUGH TREATMEXT. blame the establishment for what was the fault of a painter employed by it." You should employ only painters who understand their business, sir!" roared the colonel in a fine frenzy, and I will teach you that paint cannot be poured upon me with impunity, sir "We are said the clerk, "to do what is right in the matter. We will pay for having your clothing cleaned, or we will buy you a new suit if necessary." You cannot get out of it on any such basis as that, sir. I am going to make an example of you, sir, and inside of 24 hours, too sir! And having made this threat the colonel bustled out of the building and up the street. Upon the following day the colonel sent his legal representative to talk the matter over and see if it could not be adjusted to his satisfaction without the worry and ex- pense of a legal contest. It happened tliat the hotel's attorney was Ipresent when the colonel's legal friend ar- rived, and the former said We are perfectly willing to do the fair thing by Colonel Smith. We admit that the colonel's clothing was ruined through the negligence of one of our employees, and we are willing to pay for it. We will give him a sufficient sum to purchase himself a new suit of clothes. How does £ 5 strike you ?" "Such a proposition would not strike the colonel at all," replied the friend of the ex-warrior. It is not the amount of money involved in this thing that is making him miserable." "Then what is it?" asked the hotel's at- torn ev. "It's his feelings." replied the other lawyer, "his feelings. You know lie be- longs to one of the oldest and proudest of our aristocratic families, and he is as haughty and hypersensitive as any other OX CHRISTMAS MORNING. bearer of his name. His feelings have been deeply wounded, and tiiey can never be healed by the price of a suit. 01 clothes." -'It is pretty hard to ask us to pay for his feelings," said the hotel's attorney, with a smile, because I do not see how we can ap- praise them in order to reach an intelligent idea of their monetary value." "And then," broke in the other lawyer, "he is living with 3, maiden aunt who is also a very dignified and proud spirited person. And when she saw the colonel enter the house bedaubed with red paint and heard that he had been gibed at by boys as lie passed along the street she was com- pletely undone and has since been confined to her bed. Her feelings have got to be paid for too. The colonel is really more dis- tressed over his aunt's feelings than any- thing else connected with this unfortunate air.iir, pnd lie proposes to fight it out on the basis of their feedings and wounded pride." "See here," said the hotel's attorney. I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll settle the thing for £7 10s. and not a cent more. If this doesn't meet your views of a fair com- promise, you must seek your remedy in the law, and then yois-will find what your client's feelings are worth." Is that the best vou will do?" It is," replied the hotel's attorney. On Christmas morning, when the bells were ringing merrily in the frosty air, Colonel Smith appeared in a new suit of clothes to celebrate the occasion, for he has accepted the hotel s terms of £ .( 10s. P-7 for his ruined clothing and 10/- for his feel- ings and those of his dear old aunty.
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Mrs. Brown That's a nice turkey, but I expected you'd have brought something to wash it down %N,itli.-Broivn My dear, that's a rafile turkey, and he's been washed down already.
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EPITOME OF NEWS. 0.
EPITOME OF NEWS. 0. The Reichstag has repealed the laws prohibiting the association of workmen. Eiiza. Blackham was chocked during A fh. vomiting at Lower Gornal, Staffordshire. The Miners' Conciliation Board have conceded the miners' request for an advance of five per cent. wages. The owners of the ss. Almond Branch, of Sunderland, were awarded £ 2.500 for salvage services to the ss. Daybreak, of West Hartlepool. The death is announced of Ir. T. Shute- Roberston, Assistftnt-Senrdary of the Scotch Education Department, Whitehall. Count Tolstoi has remitted £1.00!), the proceeds of his literary labours, to be distributed among the Donkhoboitsoi now settled near Winnipeg. The Duke and Duchess of Marlborough have taken the Earl of Warwick's house in Stable Yard, St. James's Palace, for two years. The Dowager Marchioness of Londonderry, who has been very unwell during her stay in London, has left Hamilton Place for Plas Machynlleth, her seat in Montgomeryshire. American machinery (a Laffan cablegram from New York states) will be used to erect an electric plant at Rugby. The equipment will cost 2,500.000 dollars. The Rev. W. A. Carter, formerly minister of the Congregational Chapel at Huyton, has been accepted as a candidate for Holy Orders in the diocese of Liverpool. The Government has placed large orders for cordite with the Stowmarket Explosives Company, Limited. The company's works will be run for some time day and night. The Bishop of London has re-opened the parish church of Stepney, St. Dunstan's which for the past nine months has been closed for the purpose of entire renovation. The Aberdeen Line, steaming between London and Australia, via Capetown, have decided to make Plymouth a port of call on both the home- ward and outward passages. The Duchess of Marlborough, accompanied by .he Duchess of Sutherland, will shortly open a bazaar in the town-hall, Stoke-on-Trent, in aid of sever dressing parochial objects. Th. '>')inefc cri-.is at Adelaide has been re- news 1". Solomon having resigned in conse- que-.H • of an adverse vote. A new Cabinet is being formed by the Hon. F. W. Holder. Mr. Walter C. Double, solicitor, fell from the fourth storey of 32, Longford Road, Earl's Court, was impaled on the area railings, and killed on the spot. William Henry Mathews, head porter at Hamp- stead Workhouse, went out without leave one day recently, and has not yet returned. His relatives are concerned. Considerable anxiety prevails at Ply mouth con- cerning the safety of the steamer Saltram, which was last heard of on October th, when she passed Delaware breakwater bound for Havana. The Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry has loft Montagu House. Whitehall, for Petworth House, Sussex, on a visit to Lord and Lady Leconfield. Princess Louise and the Marquess of Lorne. who are now at Kensington Palace, will spend the Christmas holidays at Osborne with the Queen. A Norwegian sailor recently died in a Cardiff hospital. In the lining of his coat was found the sum of Q120, and a letter directing that the money should be handed over to the funds of the new Seamen's Hospital recently opened there. The German Emperor will entertain a large and distinguished shooting party at the Gohrde pre- serves on the loth and 16th inst. This week his Majesty is the guest of the reigning Prince zu Schaumbnrg-Lippe at Buckeburg. As the result of the slander suit brought by Ir. C. H. Abbott, playwright, formerly editor of Judy, against Dr. F. O. Carr, the musical com- poser, the former obtained P-200 damages, with costs. The health of the Queen of Norway and Sweden is giving cause for serious anxiety. Her Majes ty has been in a most critical state of health for a number of years, and has lately been a complete invalid. The two men who broke into and robbed Sir Frederick Pollock's house at Hindhead have been sentenced at Surrey Assizes to four years penal servitude and six months respectively. They were arrested wearing Sir Frederick's apparel. The Moderate party of the London School Board have agreed to nominate the Hon. F. Thpsiger, son of Lord Chelmsford, to fill the vacancy in the representation of Chelsea on the Board, caused by the death of lr. Huggett. Mr. C. E. Osborn, for many years secretary to the People's Palace, and now secretary to the affiliated clubs at the Thames Ironworks, has been presented by the Palace staff with a gold watch and chain. i A farm labourer named M'Lean has been arrested at County Derry on a charge of murder- ing a man named Devlin, over eighty years of age, by kicking him in a most brutal manner about the head and chest. The Queen has sent a cheque for EIO to Mr. A. A. Somerville, of Eton College, as a donation to the Windsor and Eton branch of the Navy League, of which he is secretary, towards the maintenance of a training barge on the Thames at Windsor, for boys. The Prince of Wales has sent a signed photo- graph of himself to the Grand Master of the Virginian Freemasons in recognition of the in- vitation to take part in the Masonic ceremonies at Mount Vernon, on the occasion of the 100th anniversary of Washington's death. The Governor of Shantung has been dismissed on account of his inability to deal with the anti- missionary troubles which have been rife through- out the province recently. Yuanshiska, late com- mander of the foreign-drilled brigade,of Hsiaochanj has been appointed. At the resumed inquest on the body of Albert John Barnes, twenty-two, lately an engineer at the Metropolitan Electric Supply Company, Acton Lane, tho jury found that there had been negligence on the part of the company in not pro- tecting the machinery. Mr. Consul C. C. Morgan writes to the Foreign Office that English visitors intending to winter in Rome should hasten to secure apartments because there will probably be a great, rush for them. 11)00 is Holy Year for the Church of Rome, and pilgrims from all parts of the world will flock there to pay their homage to the Holy Father. Great interest has been manifested at Shields in the arrival of the overdue Liverpool barque, Craig Mullen, which had as 10llg as eight months to come from Australia. The vessel was hove to for four weeks off the Cnpe of Good Hope through a succession of hurricanes, and she was later obliged to call at St. Helena for stores, her pro- visions being exhausted. L '8;=:;Zy
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YOUNG FOI.I{S' COLUMN. .-
YOUNG FOI.I{S' COLUMN. ON GUARD. Yon have a little prisoner, He's nimble, sharp and ciever, He's sure to get away from you, Uiiless you Nyatcli iliva ever, And when he once gets out he makes More trouble in all hour Than you can stop in many a day, Working with all your power. He sets your playmates by the ears, lie says what isn't so, And uses many ugly words Not good for you to know. Quick, fasten tight the ivory gates, And chain him while he's young! For this same dangerous prisoner Is jubt—your little tongue. ANIMAL STORIES. I HEJtO. Hero is the name of a dog owned by a little girl I know, lie is her faithful companion, and accompanies her in all her walks. On her birth- day her father gave her a canary, but Hero did not seem well pleased at that, and for a few days sulked, and wotil(I not play with his little mistress. After a time, finding he came in for his usual share of attention, he became as lovable as lie nscd to be. One day whilst cleaning the canary's cage it new away, and Nellie was in great trouble suout; L Hero seemed to observe tlii. -iiid he too disappeared. Presently Nellie saw him under a tree in the garden with some- thing in his mouth, which ho brought carefully to his mistress. It turned out to be the lost canarv. and it had hurt its wing and so fallen by the tree where clever Hero found it. A KIND PONY. A gentleman owned a very fine pony which was very fond of him, and would come from the paddock at the sound of his voice, and follow him about like a dog. One day the pony became lame, and was kept in the stable. About this time a cat had a family of kittens on a ledge just above the pony's manger. She and the pony became great friends. One morning, while jumping up to her kittens, she rolled oif the lodge into the manger, injuring her foot so that she could scarcely crawl along to obtain her food at the house. lylien she came back she was unable to get up to her kit!ens, so she Jay donn at the pony's feet and mewed, and looked up piteously several times. At last the poriv, scorning to understand what she wanted, reached down, took the cat gently in teeth, and lifted her up to the ledge to iv- t kittens. This was repeated morning after ■vornins. The cat would roll off into the go and get her breakfast, come back4 and be lifted up to her family. "YES." sni,1 little Amy's aunt, "you shall come to the country and see me milk the cows." What's that, auuLie ? '• Why, that's how we get milk for our coffee i'or breakfast." .( Oh, said Amy l.lw,yi¡¡gly, we do it with a tin-opener!" Cm-EL IJSS NEWELL. Miss Sernphina Martha Newell A I Was thought by some to be quite cruel. And shall I tell you why ? On Saturdays she used to bake rhe pastry cakes, the tasty cake: And pastry known as pie. To watch her was a fearsome sight! She beat the eggs, both you; ai,.d white; She ichipprd the cream with all her might, And stoned the raisins with delight! That's why Miss Seraphina Newell Was thought by some to be quite cruel. SLEEPY GEORGE. George Brown was one of the brightest of blue-eyed curly-haired little boys. He lived in (he country and went to the village school. Of al the ¡,tLHlies he liked arithmet.ie the best, and ccutdrecite rule after rule with ease. One evening George went to the old school- room to a religious meeting with his two elder sisters. The rooiii was nearly full when they entered, and they were obliged to sit directly in front of the platfonn. Ruth and Eelen did not like to sit there for George was often very restless, which troubled his sisters very much; but for half an hour the little boy was so quiet, that his sisters quite forgot him. Then Ruth discovered that he was sound asleep. Her first thought was What if he should snore?'' for he sometimes did. So she made up her mind to quietly awaken him. By this time Helen found out that her brother was asleep, and so it happened, that as the minister finished speaking, in the hush that followed there was a ttig at both arms of the sleeping boy. Instead of quietly opening his eyes, George started, sat upright and called out in a clear voice, just as if he were reciting at school. Invert the divisor, and proceed as in multipli- cation." Of course, everyone laughed, and as for George, the sound of his own voice awoke him thoroughly. InATE Father: "I wonder what makes my razor so dull i Little Cyril: "Dull, papa? Why, it was beautiful and sharp when 1 made my boat with it yesterday." JOCKO. i When Jocko came from the tropics we were all as pleased as could be Uncle lial's a sailor, you know so he went into a forest and caught him, and brought him home as a present for me; But he (Jocko, not Uncle, of course) was very cold and siiivern, and tender, And though I put my own little chair by the fire- side for him, he would go and sit on the fender. So Nurse made him a nicr. warm coat, bright red, with a collar of blue; And soon lie was quite at home in the nursery, and wanted to copy eveiytlimg that lie saw us do, So 1 let him put Dolly to bed, and he tucked her up warm and t ight. '• A'sponsible nurse is such a coimort," Mamma savs; and 1 left h'un alone, feeling suie hs would watch her all right. I But I hadn't been gone live minutes before I heard a terrible din It was Jocko, sitting on tho library floor, play- j¡)<T Papa's most precious violin And my darling child was neglected, and the violin was spoiled, and the "grown-ups" were ever so vexed. It's not a bit of use depending on monkeys.for were ever so vexed. It's not a bit of use depending on monkeys, for you never can tel] what they'll do next!
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