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Cromwell Argus, Volume XXVII, Issue 1360, 14 May 1895, Page 6

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* Traveller —“ You neoda’i make any extra preparations tor my wife. Tire plainer the things are the better she likes them.” Hotelkeeper —“ Your wife seems jrassionately fond of you, sir.” Not to the point.—Prisoner— <f IPs hard to charge me with forgery, I can’t even sign my own name.” Magistrate —“ That point is immaterial; it’s another man’s name you’re accused of signing.” O O According to La France Militarie, the small arm projectile of the future is the Heblar-Kruka tubular bullet. It is made of steel, and has a tube, open, at both ends running through its centre. This tube seems to have the effect of diminishing the resistance of the air and of increasing the steadiness of the projectile, so that longer range and greater fastness of projectory are obtained without any increase of muzzle velocity. It is said that a maximum range of 10,000 meters was obtained and that at 6000 meters the bullet penetrated inches of pine wood. A little incident which happened in. New York the other day deserves rather more than passing notice.. While a heavily-laden truck, drawn by a team of greys, was proceeding along West Broadway one of the horses fell and struggled to rise in vain. The driver, a brutal-looking fellow, whipped and kicked the horse, but did not attempt to free the poor animal from its encumbering harness. A crowd soon collected, but nobody offered any assistance. Just then a well dressed lady came along. She stood for a few

minutes watching the driver’s brutality, then, pushing her way through, the crowd, said to the man, “ Give me that whip !” The truckman, dazed by her imperious manner, obeyed. •* Now, ’ she said, ,c if yon touch that horse again I shall let you feel that whip across your shoulders. Get down and cut the harness, and help the horse to get up.” The driver stared at her. <f Get down this very minute,” said the lady, shaking the whip in the driver’s face. He obeyed, loosened the harness, and as soon as this was done the horse rose to his feet, and was ready to go on its journey. Then the lady, very pale by this with excitement, threw the whip to the ground and went on her way. Westminster Gazelle . “Foa the Blood is the Life.”— lf the blood is laden with impurities it spreads disease as it circulates through the organs, of the human body—Lungs, Heart, Stomach, Kidneys, Brain, Clarke’s Word-famed Blood Mixture is warranted to cleanse the blood from all impurities from whatever eausc arising. For Scrofula, Scurvy, Eczema, Bad Legs, Skin and Blood Diseases, Pimples, and Sores of all kinds its effects are marvellous. Thousands of wonderful mres have been effected by it. Sold everywhere at '2s 9d. Beware of worthless 'nutations and substitutes.

tia, the friend of my girlhood, the cons: of my Maurice. I flung my arms about the wash form. I kissed the pallid brow. I we; and moaned as a mother might over dead child. “You recognize her?” said Maurice. “Oh, my Portia, my dear friend, wl has done this cruel thing? Let us tal her away,” I sobbed. Maurice bent down and lifted her : his arms. As he did so a faint mot escaped from her lips. “She is alive!” I cried joyfully. Slowly she opened her eyes and look( straight in Maurice’s face. “Oh, home, home I” was all si moaned. “Yes, dearest,” said M aurico tender - !; “you are going homo.” Gathering her closer, he strode fro: the hut. I followed more dead tha alive. Past the sodden voodoos, back throng the night and, the noisome swamp, v fled with our precious burden; back 1 the gate guarded by the faithful ser ants. Jake fl>mg it open when he hear our footsteps. “Are you all right, Mr. Raymond" he cried, advancing to meet us. “Yo were so long I was afraid somethin had happened. My God, what is it?” “Strike a match, Jake,” said Maurict The man obeyed. “Come closer, and you, Tom, andyoi George,” he added, “and tell mo who i this.” The men bent their rugged faces. “Great God!” said Jake, “Mrs Marcl mont.” “It’s missus,” cried the others. “De who?” “Yes. Who —who is the other?” cric Maurice, white with rage. “I knot who it is. You were all blind to wha was going on, but I knew her from th first. Lock tho gate, Jake, and you me come up to the house with me. Pv work for you yet tonight.” Up to the great silent mansion we hui ried—the steps, the piazza, tho hall an now the library. Colonel Marchmont had risen at th sound of our footsteps and stood faciu ; the door. “Jermyn,” said Maurice in a voic choked with emotion, “Jermyn, I hav brought home your poor wife.” He laid her tenderly in her husband’ arms. Colonel Marchmont stared a Portia as he might at a specter. “Is it true?” he whispered hoarsely “Is it true? Have you come back fron the grave, darling?"’ His pathetic words moved us all, am George, one of the biggest, blackest ne groes on the place, suddenly burst ou crying like a baby. Possibly that act saved his master’: reason, for ho, too, wept then, laying hi; face close to tlie hollow, sunken cheel of the woman he held to his heart. CHAPTER XVI. £ FIGHT FOR LIFE. What a night that was! As I recall it now it was a shifting panorama of action and tumult. Then were ringing of bells, rousing of servants, lighting of fires, preparation ol baths and cordials and a hurried summons of the physician from the neighboring town, who sat by the bed till daybreak fanning the feeble flame of life which threatened to go out forever. “She has been dosed and drugged so long,” Dr. Spencer said, “that I greatly fear it will not be possible to save her. However, I’m going to make a fight for the poor lady’s life.” Oh, it was pitiful to see her, a mere wreck of herself, helpless as a baby, at times moaning in distress and only saying feebly over and over, “Home, home!” Her arms were one mass of scars. The doctor examined them gravely. “Here is where they have injected their poison,” he said. “It’s a marvel she is alive. This has been going on for two years. She has been starved and drugged. I cannot understand why they didn’t kill her outright. It would have been infinitely more humane.” <,: Do you see?” said Maurice to Colonel Marchmont, lifting one of the thin arms and pbinting to a mark, “Do you see, Jermyn? There is tho little tattoo mark I gave her when a boy. I had tattooed my hand here,” and he showed the place, “and when she saw it she begged I should tattoo her arm. Then nothing would do but Sidonie must have one too. However, I made a different mark on that devil.” “Don’t, my dear boy,” said the colonel gently. “Don’t speak about her now.” The scene in the drawing room when Maurice forcibly tore back tho sleeve of our hostess suddenly came to me, I knew now for what he was looking. But who and what was this other woman —this Sidonie, who was the exact counterpart of Portia, and who had for some wicked reason brought all this misery on a happy home? Beyond this mention of her, sho seemed to be forgotten that night. I knew she was locked in her room and that Maurice had the key which would release her. What would be done with her? If Portia were to die, she, that beautiful, graceful, accomplished creature would be her murderer! I recalled many things--the wonderful instinct which had caused Colonel Marchmont to despise and hold at arm’s length this pretender to his affections—oh, love after all lias a 1 uiguage of its own—the wiles of this sorceress, this priestess of voodooisui, had never lured him from the memory of a gentle, pure womanhood. Thank God, he had been true to his ideal. And little Daphne’s piteous cry, “Oh, mamma, mamma,” recurred to me. Had she, too, in some occult fashion caught the intimation from her guardian angel that this woman was not her mother? J recollected my own unaccountable distrust of this creature. Why had I pot persisted in following up those vague suspicions which so tormented me on my arrival? It was maddening to think that while we were idly eating and drinking and dawdling life away that Portia was being slowly tortured to death in that place of horrors. Just before dawn, at the hour when

a tho first faint rays of light crept like phantoms across the floor, the sufferer 3. opened her eyes and looked straight into t those of her husband. Though she did a- not speak, it was evident that she recognized him, for a faint smile lighted up the wan face. 0 “That is good,” said the doctor. “She e knows you, colonel. Now, let everybody, save the nurse, get out. Go and a get some sleep, you people. I will watch a until noon. Ido not wish to leave her.” 'I o be Continued. 1 A MILLION OF YEARS, e Astronomers and geologists habitually deal in large numlrers. It is utterly impos- , sible to concieve of a billion miles, and even ihe familiar illustration of a railway train x going so many miles for an hour for so many jears convejs a very vague idea. It is 1 cciually difficult to form an idea of the vast periods of time with which geologists deal. 1 What idea can man, who is limited to a 3 hundred years, form of a million years ? j Professor Croll tells us how a striking impression of such a lapse of time may be , partially conveyed to the mind. " Stretch 1 a piece of paper eighty-three feet four inches long round the walls of a room somewhat ’ over twenty feet square, recall the events of i life to give some conception of a hundred , years, and then consider that a mark onetenth of an inch broad at one end of the paper represents the century, while the ’ whole strip gives places for only a million years.” 3 A THOUGHTFUL HUSBAND. A lady who is subject to heart disease took tea last Sunday with a neighbour, and while sitting at table her husband rushed in without a hat and in his shirt-sleeves. “Be calm!” he exclaimed hurriedly to his wifedon’t excite yourself, you know you can’t stand excitemert, and it might be 1 worse I” r "Good gracious!” cried the wife; “the ; children—” ) " They’re all right. Now, Mary, don’t [ get excited ; keep calm and cool, it can’t ba helped now, we must bear these visitations of Providence with philosophy.” “ Then its mother!" gasped the wife. " Your mother’s safe. Get on your things, L but don’t hurry or worry. It’s too late to be of any use, but I’ll fly back and see what I , can do. I only came to tell you not to get excited. ” For mercy’s sake,” implored the almost fainting woman, " tell me the worst!” 1 “ Well, it you will have it, the consei qnences be on your own head, Mary. I’va tried to prepare you, and if you will know—don't excite yourself, try and keep calm—but our kitchen chi y’s on fire, and all this neighbours are in ou. ront garden !” She survived. TESTING DIAMONDS IN THE DARK. Stories of diamonds shining in the dark have alwavs been familiar, but few persons have ever seen this mysterious light of the king of gems. Lately Mr. George F. Kunz, the New York expert in precious stones, has discovered not only that diamondreally does shine in the dark, but that this property may be used as a test of the genuineness of a diamond. In order to make thegem shine it must bs rubbed on wood, cloth, or metal. Some diamonds exhibit light after having been exposed in the sunshine, or to a strong electric illumination, and since all are not thus affected, it was formerly supposed that the property belonged only to particular diamonds. Mr. Kunz, however, finds that all diamonds, of every grade as to colour, possess this phosphorescent power, while other kinds of precious stones lack it. It is accordingly possible to tell whether a gem is really diamond or not, by observing whether it can be made to emit light in the dark. The cause of the phosphorescence of the diamond remains to bp explained.

THE BRITISH WAY. Perhaps few stories of battle so thoroughly illustrate what we were pleased to consider the true British spirit and way of doing things as the little incident at a reconnaissance before the battle of Ulundi, of which Lord William Beresford was the hero. The British were almost led into a terrible trap, and discovered the danger only just in time. They turned to retreat, and the Zulus poured in a volley, which brought down the gray horse of a mounted infantryman ; his rider fell head-foremost. The rest thought both man and horse were killed at first, but the former soon struggled to his feet, with his face covered with blood, and dazed with his fall. Lord William Beresford, seeing what had happened, pulled up, and, in the face of advancing hosts of yelling savages within easy range, quietly trotted back and told the man to mount behind him. With a cool courage scarcely second ta Lord William’s, the man refused, noble fellow that he was, preferring the certain sacrifice of his own life to the probability ol destroying his preserver. The reply was admirably terse and telling. The savages swarmed closer and closer, bullets rattled around them ; the two who lingered were almost within reach of the assegais, and Lord William replied; “ Get up, or I’ll punch your head !” The man obeyed, and rescuer and rescued escaped. A CURE FOR COLD FEET. Dr. Hall says those people who are troubled with cold feet at bedtime should bend over and smartly slap the calves ol their legs for about five minutes. This struck a young man to be about as sensible a piece of ad vice as he had ever heard. So he put it to the test after disrobing himself on Saturday night. He bent over, and pounded away at himself, and all the time made a noise with his mouth, like the hiss of escaping steam. This noise attracted the attention of one of the boarders, and he told the landlady that there must be a fire in that room, because he could hear it siz, and could hear a snapping and popping going on up there. The landlady didn't pause )o argue. She caught up a pail and plunged for the place at once. The boarder followed with a aigantic broom. Both of them precipitated themselves into the room together. The advent was so sudden that the boarder, who was warming himself, Had no chance to dodge, and there was too much momentum on the landlady and the other boarder to permit them to recover themselves in time. So there was a collision. The landlady saw it coining, and instinctively held the pail in front of her. But the disciple of Hall didn't see it, a* his back was to the door and his head nearly to the floor, and before he could look up, on hearing the door fly open, the visitors were on him, and the contents of the pail over him, and the three, with pail and clothesbrush, came down in a crash together. How the landlady extricated herself and got out of the room as quickly as she did will always remain a mystery to the two men who stood there and glared at each other for some fifteen minutes

NOT SO ROMANTIC AFTER ALL "Do you notice how attentively th gentleman has been watching me lor t! last half hour ?“ said one young lady another at an evening party. “ Do you mean that man by the piano i " Yes.” " Well, now that you speak of it, lie do seem somewhat interested in you.” “He certainly does, Ido declare,” co tinned the young lady, gaily, “ I believe 1 has fallen in love with me. fsn't it deligh fully romantic ?” A few minutes afKr she was talking wit her hostess, when, as an opportunity pr sented itself, she carelessly remarked : "My dear Mrs, 15., pray tell me who th: quiet but very dietingu6 looking gentlema is near the piano. Ido not remember c\ < seeing him before.” “Probably not,” replied the lady ; “In he is quite well known. He is a detective SURVIVED HIS OWN EXECUTIO' A man who has attended his own excc. tion and still survives to relate the delai is surely worthy of a short paragraph. The man in question, although at preset serving in the humble capacity of wailer i one of the Paris caffis, w-as, twentj- on years ago, one of the historic characters i tlie world. His name is Colonel Marteras, and i 1569, was on the point of being proclaims President of Uruguay, when he was arrestee charged with treason, and sentenced to 1; shot. On Monday, June 30th of that year, hj was taken by a platoon of soldiers out of th capital to a cleared spot in the heart of: forest and bound to a‘chair. At the word "Fire!” a nervous shod caused Marteras to fall to the ground. IT did not hear the volley, but a labours ■working near by did. The workman went to ascertain the cause saw the soldiers marching away, and Martcra. badly wounded, but not dead by any means lying on the ground. The labourer took the would-be Presiden home and cured his wounds, and he am Marteras both now often tell of the suppcsoc execution of the " French Pretender.” MY BABES IN THE WOOD. I know a story, fairer, dimmer, sadder, Than any story painted in your books. You are so glad ? I will not make you gladder Yet listen, with your pretty restless looks "Isit a fairy story ?” Well, half fany— At least it dates far back as fairies do, And seems to me as beautiful and airy ; Yet half, perhaps the fairy half, is true. You had a baby sister and a brother, Two very dainty people, rosy while, Sweeter than all things else except each other! Older yet younger—gone from human sigh t! And I, who loved them, and shall love them ever, And think with yearning tears how each light hand Crept toward bright bloom and berries—l shall never Knowhow Host them. Do you understand? Poor slightly golden heads ! I think I missed them First in some dreamy, piteous, doubtful way; But when and where with lingering lips I kissed them," My gradual parting, I can never say. Sometimes I fas*y that they may have perished In shadowy quiet of wet rocks and moss. Near paths whose very pebbles I have cherished. For their small sakes, since my most bitter loss. I fancy, too, that they were softly covered By robins, out of apple flowers they knew, Whose nursing wings in far home sunshine hovered, Before the timid world had dropped the dew. Their names were—what yours are. At tnis you wonder. Their pictures are—your own, as you have seen; And my bird-buried darlings, hidden under Lost leaves—why, it is your dead selves I mean ! BACK FROM THE GRAVE. He was a young sergeant in the Hussars, and in one of the numerous night attacks on .he Russian fortifications in the Crimea, he nad the misfortune to receive a dangerous aullet wound in the region of the heart, .’Tile bravely exhorting his men to action. He was immediately stricken to the ground with insensibility, and a period of perhaps wo hours elapsed before the ambulance ;ould be procured. During this time, owing :o the piercing east winds that only n Russian can stand with equanimity, the sergeant became perfectly pale and cold. Notwithstanding all precautions, and a r air share of nursing and attention—for in :he Crimea this department was very badly nanaged—he was pronounced the next after,looll by three medical men to have me! with instantaneous death. His body wa’.ccordingly handed over to the burial corp if his regiment. There were numerous burials to take place the same afternoon, so the bodies of ;he sergeant and three privates were handed n-er to a big bra wny Irishman for burial. This man, having dug the trenches, placed he four bodies in a line and proceeded to ;over them. He had covered three of them, when n rightful thunderstorm came on, and he vva.. ibliged to discontinue bis operations for th. light, leaving the remains of the sergeaa ixposed to the weather, wolves, and other ivils. Night came on, and the men all urned into their beds, such as they were, md soon were fast asleep. At three o’clock, the shrill cry of liven try challenging a man might have beer, ieard on the still night air, and to the usual uery came the answer, “ Friend.” Making his way past the sentry, the mar iad to walk three hundred yards to read he encampment of his "squad.” Calling with a feeble voice outside the sat of the sergeant-major, he asked for uarters for the night. Aghast with terror, le trembling officer led the man—who was 6 other than the dead and buried sergeant -to the colonel’s quarters, and ha,•inwakened the colonel, he narrated hi trange story. Next day the fortunate " non-com.” as sergeant to his troop or.ee lore, and great was the merry-making when ae company heard the good news. It appears that about 2 a.m., the Russians ischarged some shells near the Briti-’ ncampment, and one of the shells droppi. uite close to the burial lines awoke thergeant from bis trance. Cold, sore, atiff, but feeling little the worse for hj lerilous adventure, he rose and made hj ,-ay as quickly as possible to the tents. An examination of the wound elicited the ict that the bullet entered the chest just elow the second rib, curved off the edge of tie third, and was found by one of the clever trio” who pronounced the m ead, imbedded about half an inch beloie surface of the skin. This incident was related by the sergeant imself to a Home representative.

A PETERTOWN PROPOSAL. ai . Mks Susie Tunsy; •Do you know wh l ;e time it is, Hank Stoner?’ l 0 Hank Stoner : • No, nor I don’t care ?’ _ 'Oh, you don’t ?’ Well, it’s time all go< little boys were at home and in bed ?’ 1 You don’t say V es ‘Yes, I do, Smarty, aid you’d better i going.’ n . 1 I’ll go when I get ready.’ )e ' Sass box.’ 1 Say, Susie.’ ‘Say it yourself, while your mouth ], open.’ e- ‘ Pshaw now, Suse; I’m in earnest.’ ' Well, what arn I doing ? ’ m 'You know what. You know I’ve bee m going with you a long time, Suse.’ ■ : r ' I’ugh 1 what if you have ?’ Guess never asked you to go with me, and—o-ievc ,1 o’clock 1 You going to stay here all night ■Pshaw, Suse! You’re tickled enoug to have me stay, and you know it.’ ‘ A-a-a-a, Hank Stoner 1 as though I car whether you go or stay. Pugh 1’ 1 ‘ Oh, I guess I ain’t such a fool as I 100 l But say, Susie ?’ ‘ Well, say it then, you ninny. My lan o’ rest. I ain’t hinderin’ you.’ v ‘ You are, too.’ ‘ ‘ Tee. hee, hec, hee.’ ‘Honest Injun, now, Suse; I’m in dea< earnest. I ain’t been your shadder si: '] months for nothin’.’ ‘My shadder! La, Hank !’ ‘ You know I ain’t.’ e ‘ How should I know ? I ain’t a witch.’ ‘ You act like one.’ e ‘ You’re polite, I must say !’ e ‘ I mean it as a compliment.’ :1 * I think the world and all of you, Susie. •La, Plank!’ ' * I ain’t foolin’.’ * Tee, hee, hee, hee.’ ‘ Did you ever happen to think that yot and me was old enough and big enough tc git married ?’ 4 ‘ P-o-o-h, Hank !’ 1 ‘We air. I ain’t thought of much else o late.’ ’’ ‘ You redickerlus thing !’ , ’Well, I ain’t. You like me purty well 1 don’t you ?’ ‘ I’d be smart to say so if I did.’ ‘ Well, you might when we’re going tc git married.’ ‘ Who said we were going to gi( married ? It takes two to make a bargain, Mr. Smarty.’ ‘ But you will, won’t you, Susie ?’ * I’ll think about it.’ ■ Pshaw, Susie, why don’t you say ‘ yes’ right out?’ ‘ Oh, you’re too anxious, and—let go my hand. 1 ■. ‘ I shan’t do it, and you can’t make me, either.’ ‘ You mean thing! I’ve a notion to—the i idea of you putting your hand round my ! waist like that and—now, you dare to kiss me again! What if pa or ma should come in ?’ ‘ Pooh i They’re in bed, where they ought to be !’ * Nice way to talk about my pa and ma. It’s a good thing for you they are in bed 1’ ‘Yes, I think so myself. I’d rather have ’em there than here.’ ‘ Tee, hee, hee! you mean thing!’ * Come, now, Susie, say yes. I love you like all possessed !’ ‘ Aw, Hank! Take your mouth away from my cheek—g’way !’ ‘ I won’t do it, unless you say • yes’ first.’ ‘ Well—if I must —yes.’ ‘ Hooray!’ ‘Shut up! Good heavens ! You want to raise the dead ?’ * I’m so happy, Sue !’ * Well, don’t go crazy if you are—goose I* ANECDOTES. Queen Elizabeth made Sir Nicholas Bacon Lord Chancellor and Secretary of State. The Queen, when visiting him at Hertford, said : “ This house is too small for a man like you.” " Madam,” replied the Chancellor, ‘‘it is your Majesty’s fault, for you have made me too large for my house.” Some good stories are told of provincial mayors and their wives. Here is one. The Queen and Princess Beatrice had opened an exhibition, and then in the visitors book they appended their royal names, Victoria and Beatrice. Next came the turn of the mayoress, who in a flowing hand wrote Jane. This story is told of the brilliant and witty Irish barrister who did not get on, and the heavy judge who did get on, and who rebuked him one day for his levity : “My lord,” said the unsuccessful, ‘‘the laws of nature have been reversed in our case—my levity has kept me down here, and your gravity has floated you up there.” A quick and ready wit is an almost indispensable endowment in a good cross examining counsel, but the quickest and readiest sometimes finds his match. " Oh, you say this gentleman was about fifty-five,” said Canning to a young woman in the witnessbox, "and I supposenowyou consider yourself to be a pretty good judge of people’s ages, eh. Well, now, how old should you take me to be ?” “Judging by your appearance, sir,” replied the witness, "I should take you to be about sixty. By your questions I should suppose you were about sixteen." A funny story is related of a juryman who outwitted a judge, and that without lying. He came breathlessly into the court: ” Oh. my lord, if you can excuse me, pray do. I don’t know which will die first—my wife or my daughter.” “ Dear me, that’s sad,” said the innocent judf;e. “ Certainly you are excused.” The next day the juryman was met by a friend, who, in a sympathetic voice, asked; "How’s your wife?" “ She’s all right, thank you.” “ And your daughter?” “She’s all right, too. Why do you ask?” “Why, yesterday you said you did not know which would die first," “ Nor did I. That is the problem which time alone can solve.” Didn’t Offend a Second Time.—Two dandies were some time ago taken before a Dublin magistrate charged with "intending to fight a duel.” The justice, who was a shrewd and waggish man, had strong doubt as to the really pugnacious inclination of either of the professed belligerents, so he dismissed them on a promise " not to carry the matter further," but added—“ Gentlemen, I let you off this time, but, upon my conscience, if you are brought again before me I’m blessed if I don't bind you both down to fight.” They did not offend a second time. Anent Kissing.—Many ridiculous anecdotes are told to illustrate Puritanic horror of this pleasant and natural salute. Here is one of an English divine, who was known as the author of a Biblical concordance. He courted his wife seven years before he asked if he might kiss her. “Just as you please," she answered demurely. " Let us first ask a blessing,” he said, after which he kissed her. “Why, it’s good,” he exclaimed. “ Let us return thanks," They were married in a few weeks That brings to mind the saying of a young woman concerning a suitor whom she had rejected. In summing up his qualities, she said : " He was goodlooking, he was educated, he was devoted ; he sent me flowers —I always thought I’d love a man who sent me flowers—but," she concluded, in a tone of disdain, " he hadn’t sense enough to kiss me when he had the chance.”