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& hei O KT3 THEFT§ 3 râ€" property els ('lallBJ. Mrs. Hart UARTERS. rney®» ba nk redit, iber‘s b.1128% »Id â€" 4 Fiat their the ypemn~ 34 d tting Mila lerk O0D ling Des? hth ery reiâ€" VF the 1B nd de OO BA J C : @ heartâ€"shaped, whereon i&] & poart 1Q | J NO U Mc bemcacse â€" ies signify a tear. The cunning workâ€" its memory alike have no ,‘-ammp is wellâ€"nigh as priceless as| The land that is vyvery fa the gems, no more than these two yet, no man _ knows having ever been made. The Queen | the land that may Dauphiness prized the ruby | to all of us, cioser heart, they sakd, _ more than | shore whither that tossit any jewel in her possession, more with her freight of love a highly than even the famous black | of hope and daring, is bou pearls, like grap»s of Muscadel, whb:.h‘ ‘The influence of his caln have been sold to the English Queen | otonous life was strong up for a third of their price, wherent‘ Cyprian, but yet thore wa Madame Cathorine is incensed, deemâ€"| ing look in his eyes as ho ing,. when opportumity to rob her | the sea to the viny sail, 1 P dauchterâ€"inâ€"law arowe, that she shoul1 | as he gazed, disappearedâ€" have had thoe proference. Bat there| look, which would have t was a fate over th> jewel ; indeed they | observer that struggle w say none ever possessed a ruby of size, | quite over in his breast. but there is a violont death at the| ‘That night a terrilic st end of thoir days. ‘Th> Queen Dauâ€" ! and burst in wildest fur; phiness lost it, she never could tell | ferran Abbey, making brci when or how, nor was more ever | Yencrable walls and uproo known than that she wore it at the| of the trees which acorns« *A jousting in which King Henry reâ€" cinct of the monastery. A! peived his death wound. Much search | through the wind howled was made for it in vain, and people | and cown the coast the said it had fulfilled its evil reputation | the furious, ceaseless thund and was accursed. It was never hoard , wures was heard for m af more. and when King Francis‘ illâ€"| Perhaps, in those old d e L EC m+++++++++++++++++mm++++ma-++++++++++~:-oo++¢m¢ jewe hear aigni was maue said it had and was A«c of more, a ness comm fellow jews from the « and laid 1 end of thoir days. Th> QGuéen DAU: phiness lost it, she never could tell when or how, nor was more ever known than that she wore it at the jousting in which King Henry reâ€" ceived his death wound. Much search was made for it in vain, and people said it had fulfillied its evil reputation and was accursed. It was never hoard of more, and when King Francis‘ illâ€" ness commenced, he had a fear of the fellow jewel, and would have it taken from the collar in which it was set, and laid by. ‘Then th> Queen, who was always daring, and even though she did not ‘quite disbelieve them, mocke! at such suporstitious fables, beggel the ruby heart at his bands, amdi he, being near his end then, and net caring to contest anything with her, gave her the gem. Waen she deigned to cause it to be signified to me that she rel‘ed on me for help in her evil fortune, the Queen sent me that token ; it could not be mistaken or counterfeited, it could come from nmone but her. ‘There is no other like me (hat sno her evil fort that token ; j or counterfel none but her it in the wor While Louwis it in the world." While Lowis spoke, the hidden hand had loosened from his neck a short chain of strong, finelyâ€"wrought steel licks, to which was suspendai a small purse of the same fabric, eo%nlnlng an oblect about the size of a walnut, rolle! up tightly in a plece of fine leathber. As he ceased speaking, he plased the chain in his brother‘s band. Brother Cyprian took it in siâ€" lence, and would have opened the purse, Louls looking at him with a "I cannot find the spring," he said. "No, the trick is cuaning, and you must learn it, for if tho token comes to you It will comea as it is. The third link to the right slides, soâ€"and the purse falls flatly opena." Then Louls uprolled the leather covering, and RBrother C(yprian saw the famous gem. It was a quaint and beautiful object, amd the monk looked at it intently, but in utter silence. It was a fair balasâ€"ruby, clear and smooth, and red like rich, crimson blood from a severed artery ; beartâ€"shapedl, and laid on it, with a wellâ€"feigned carelessuness, was one softly white pearl "You will know that token, brother, when it reaches you." "I shall know it," said the monk. An hour later, Louws de Valmont bad left Kilferran, and was winding his way over the stony and difficult track which led to the shore, accomâ€" panied by his wildâ€"looking guide _ Solemniy rose the voices of the mouks of Kilferran, as they chanted their evening office, when the sun had gone down behind the rugged hills, and the ocean waters were tossing grey and murky under the dull sky. None could have discerned in Broâ€" ther Cyprian‘s face, or in any tone of his volce, that the day just departed had differed from any other day of his evem, uneventful life . Composed and devotional, his keen brown face looked out from under his cowl, soleéemnly melo@dious his voice rose with . the voices of his brethrea. When the others left the chapel, he lingered . still, knpecling in his stail, and after some wppcfe time had elapsed, and the stillness and solitude around were complete, hbe arose and approached a small recess on the left of the altar, where the im light of an antique lamp glimmered. Brother Cyprian took cown from the wall one of the least conspicuous ol these objects, which had the ordinâ€" ary form of a heart, and was of no richer material than wrought iron, and holding it so as to catch the {feeble light of the lamp, he opened It, and looked fixedly upon its interâ€" for. It contained a fair balasâ€"ruby clear and amooth, and red like crimson blood from a severed artery, heart shaped, and, laid on it with a wellâ€" feigned carelessness, was one softlyâ€" white pearl. +« 4 & Upon the rudelyâ€"colored wall of this recess hung several reliquaries, some of precions, others of base metais, and of various forms ; for Kilferran was a noteai shrine for the resort of suppliâ€" ants in temporal and spiritual distress, and many was the ex voto placed there in tostimony to the granting of petitions from dwellers near, and pilgrims from afar. ~tdl « He replaced the reliquary, and moved quistly away, murmuring, " First me, and now him. God forgive you, Marie !" (MAPYER III. The sky was red on the morning of the day when ‘Louis de _ Valâ€" mont set sail from the southern harbor, after a grave leaveâ€"taking with his brother. From out the cloister of the old abbey, Brother Cyprian looked on the face of the heavens, musing on the strangeevent which had befailen him, and yielding to his presentiment that evil was to come of his brother‘s mter:::a. And as he gazed, the face of the Â¥vâ€" ens darkened, and the roseate clouds W@emed to him to be driven across #t, with a fierce, sweeping motion, as il a terrible storm spirit were &n pursuit of them. Even in those gemote times the phase which r;ed i1 to the mariner _ from redness of the ~morning was a gmvrb among the people who dwelt the dangerous coast, and . were learned in the syinptoms of weather. "Tempest is coming," maid the : THE QUEEN‘S TOKEN o d y t e e s o ol oo ho t se e e e sB affa ols aBe ie ae ol on ts afe e oe oGe afe ie on ie ofe ofe +1 c on ofe ife ofe ofe ofe fe ofofecpy Smile. cannot find the spring, 6. the trick is cuoning a ped, V i tear h wore a satin snow.uet jowel! in the middle. Each alasâ€"ruby, blood red and whereon lay a pearl to ir. ‘The cunning workâ€" ity to rob her j ie soa to UNC ULIY sdil, WwHnol, O CCE . that she shoul1 | as he gazed, disappearedâ€"a yearning mee. â€" Bat there| look, which would have told a keen wel : indeed they | observer that struggle was not yet «1 a ruby of size, ! quite over in his breast. it death at the| That night a terrilic storm arose, h+ Queen D:\u-;nnd burst in wildest fury over Kilâ€" never could tell| ferran Abbey, making breach»s in the was more ever | vencrable walls and uprooting several wore it at thPl of the trees which acorned the preâ€" ing Henry reâ€" cinct of the monastery. All the night nd. Much search ! through the wind howled and raved, vain, and people | and cown the coast the people said s evil reputation | the furious, ceaseless thundering of the was never heum]w:um was heard for miles inland. cing Francis‘ illâ€"| Perhaps, in those old days, when ad a fear of the } everything beyond one‘s actual sight id have it taken | was vague, whon parting always imâ€" hich it was aet.i plied utter uncertainty, and no public th»> Queen, who | service for the transmission of inâ€" ind even though | telligence affecting private incividuals disbelieve them, | only, ex‘sted, suspense was not so rstitious fables, | heartâ€"sickening, not such a gnawing rt at his bands,| at the roots of life as it is now. is end then, and | Brother Cyprian did not expect to t anything with | hear tidings of his brother, save by em. Waen she | chance ; until tho Qusen‘s token should o be signified to | reach him, he did rot look for any i me for help in | sure knowledge of his fate ; the treâ€" Queen sent me | mendous storm, which raged with un not be mistaken | abated violence for three days , and could come from | nights, was in kecving with his feelâ€" is no other like | ings, but he maae no sign. There was lthe schooling of the cloister, and the hidden bhand | there was, before that, the schooling is neck a short | of unknown, unshared sorrows, and Iy â€" ht steel| under their joint restraint Brother _m a small | Cyprian kept his soul in patience. Soon a bric, eon:umng after the subsidence of the tempest size of a waluut, | rumors arose of shpwrecks off the in a plece of | southern coast, of many disasters to ceased cpealing.ll".e and property, and dismal tales . in his brother‘s | of the crimes of the wreckers were | P post is beyond, and sure shipwreck. Ave Marisg Stolla! ora pro nobis !" Fome hours later, from the topâ€" most winrdows of the abbey, a sail was visible, on the extreme verge of the horizon, and Brother Cyprian lookâ€" ed at it with resigned sadness, " Farewell, my brother!" he murâ€" mured. "I shall never see you more, until we meet in the land which is very far of{f, and where sorrow and its memory alike have no, existence, The land that is very far off, and yet, no man knows how near, the land that may be close to all ol us, cioser than ~the shore whither that tossing barque, with her freight of love and loyalty, of hope and daring, is bound." _ monk. "It may be but the sudden and brief squall of the summer winds, but it is coming, And a fiercer temâ€" mured. _ "I shall ne until we meet in th very far off, and w its memory alike }. The land that is 1 yet, no man l the land that told. But no tidings came to Kilferâ€" ran of the loss of th> ship in which Lou‘!s de Valmont had sailed. No spar had drifted in, no drowned sailor or shattered, waveâ€"tossed shred of ship‘s gear, to tell of a vain battle with the awful storm army ; of swift, sure mind, to nearly thoir just insignifiâ€" canceâ€"but no soluton of them came. Brother Cyprian looked a good deal older ; h‘s habitual gravity deepened ; and could those among whom he dwelt have heard the words of prayer most frequently upon his lips, they would have known them for the solemn pleadings of the "De Profundis." Sometimes Brothr Cyprian and the Prior talked of the brief visit of Louis de Valmont, and of the trust confided to their keeping. _« The Prior did not share Brother Cyprian‘s preâ€" sentiment, fast becoming conviction, that Louis de Valmout had perished, either by shipwreck, or in the atâ€" tempt to execute his project. News indeed came slowly, and was often néither full no# reliable when it did come, but the ship was a large vesâ€" sol, and there were certain relations between her captain and crew, and the coast people, and if she had been wrecked, the intelligence would have come to them somehow. The Prior, admiring the patience of Brother Cyprian, had ciligent inquiry made among the coast people, and found that there was no fear among them that the ship was lost. No, the deâ€" sign was held in abeyance for some good reason ; the time was not ripe, and Louls held aloof from all communtâ€" cation with his brother, in order not to compromise his actomplices orenâ€" danger their success. He had told his brother he should hbear of him (so argued the Prior) only in a certain eventâ€"when he should need the gold and jewels, and then, he would bring, or send him the Queen‘s token. Roon there arose matters of quite another nature to disturb the Prior of Kilferran and his community. The dark and evil days which had beâ€" fallen so many, but had spared them so long, came upon them now. ‘The Lordâ€"Deputy had heard of Kilferran at last, and despite the remotencess, the obscurity of the place, had deâ€" termired to "root out" the monks. Such proceedings as had previously beer taken against other monastic houses, so corspicuously wellâ€"situated that they could not be overiooked, were now put in execution against Kilâ€" ferran Abbey ; and the monks were in daily dread and danger of being exâ€" pelled from the sheltering walls of their remote dwellingâ€"place. Some timid souls among the community of the Friars Preachers regarded the trials waich threatened thom with alâ€" most womanly terror, but not of their number were the Prior and RBrother Cyprian. In the frequent conferences mtlng what must be doned, if the Deputy should come to harry and drive them out, the subject of the treasure intrusted to Brother Cypâ€" rlas, by him whose fate was all unâ€" knpown to them, was often discussed. "It must be hidden," was the conâ€" clusion arrived at by the Prior; "It must ‘be remored from the celiar unâ€" derpeath the buttery where your terrilic storm Aros@, ildest fury over Kilâ€" aking breach»s in the ind uprooting several reachel Brother n‘s token came not. aggling intelligence vÂ¥ to Kilferran ‘had ril, which, even redâ€"a yvearning ilm and mon upon Brothei was a yearn weeks ; the ntelligence of hi Brother Then the Prior and Brother Cyprian studied theâ€"plan of the abbey, a quaint drawing which had been maude neqrlya century befora, and they deâ€" cided on the_spot in which the treaâ€" sure should be hiddon. One night, in the cold, early spring, when all was sllent .in the abbey, and only the dim red lamp, buruin forever in the sanctuairy, 1!1“‘“?011 the reign of night, the Prior came to Brother Cyprian‘s cell and told him he was ready. Then tho two softly descendâ€" ed to the cellar beneath the buttery, where the mail which Lou‘!s De Valâ€" mont had cbnfided to their care ‘vas depositel. When the Prior had opened the heavy door and they hands and mine placed it, and conccalâ€" ed with what skill wo have, and what precaution we can take A statement of the nature, the destination and the hidingâ€"place of the treasure must be drawn up by you, my son, and kept constantly in the possussion of one or other of us, so that the holder, in the hour of supreme danger, or that of death, may bave it in his power to communicate the knowleige to anâ€" other who in his turn can, if called upon to do &o, fullil your brother‘s inâ€" tention." *‘Time is passing, father, and I think the Queen‘s token will never come." "Even so, then, some provigion must be made for the restoration or other disposition of this treasure." stood â€" within the ‘small ~vauited chamber, Brother Cyprian struck a light from flint and steel, and lightâ€" ed a small lam», and then they 40okâ€" ed around them for a black streoak uron the wa‘l, which indicatel the spot where the mall lay hidden un der sturdy logs ol firewood. "It is here," said Brother Cyprian, stooping to remove the logs, and disâ€" closing to view the stained and torn surface of a leathern â€" valise, which was, however, strongly lined with lrox, "I know not the precise nature nor the exact value of the contents, tut Louis was rich, and he told me all his wealth was here, except, doubtless, an inconsiderable sum for his maintenance and charges on his fatal mission. I cannot give any detail, therefore, of the items of this treaseure. Perhaps there is a list of them inside the mail." The Prior held the lamp, and Broâ€" ther Cyprian carried the leathern valise with much difficultyâ€"for it was, though email, vyery heayyâ€" through the passages and up the winding flight of stone steps which led to the oren cloister adjoining the great doorway. At the top there was a masiive door of biack oak, sheeted with iron and studded with heavy nails. This door was unbarred, and 15 opened no‘selessly. The Prior and Brother Cyprian passed through it, and found themseives in the cloister, where some itrâ€"agging rays of moonâ€" light plerced the darkness, but gave only additionally weird effect to the gloom. Brother Cyprian was the seribe of the community. Little writing was necessary in thoe days to the manâ€" agement of all human affairs outâ€" slide diplomaey in â€" comparison _ with the present demand for the litera seripta ; tbut certain matters had to be transacted in writing, and Broâ€" ther Cyprian‘s services were in to!â€" erably constant demand. He _ had never pasted so much oi his time in the small room with bare white walls, and heavy oaken table, whithâ€" er the lay brother had come to anâ€" nounce to him the memorable visit of Louis De Va‘lmont, as immediately after the transfer of the treasure to a secure hidingâ€"place. For many hours of many days, except in choir and refectory, the community saw nothing of Brother Cyprian, but he was understool to be engaged in business for the Prior, and none inquired farther. Meantime he wrote in the laborious, cumbrous, slow caliâ€" graphy of the time an accurate reâ€" cord of all that had occurred in reâ€" lation to his brother, and to the trust of the treasure, and he recorded upon the document his beliet that Louis de Valmont was dead. In this convicâ€" tion he added to the statement that he, being the only survivor of Louis, and hi natural heir, bequeatlhied the gold and jewe‘s contained in the indicated hidingâ€"place to the dwellâ€" ers in Kilferran Abbey for their use and absomte disposal. The bequest was to take effect when it shou‘d be necessary to make the fact of its existence known, owing to the death of Louis de Valmont being ascertainâ€" ed, his own death having taken place, and the treasuro remaining unâ€" claimed _ by the Queen ol Scots, or any emissary of here, by the production of a token, agreed upon by himsel{ and his brothor, and to be imparted by him in the event of his death to a third person,who should be charged, under similar conditions, with the transmission of the secret to one individual, preferably the Prior of the community, it k s o "ahip s Vague rumors of the dlscovery . of copspiracies for the overthrow of Elizabeth, for the placing of Mary Stuart upon the English throne, and even for the roscue of the Queen of Rceots without any defined uilterior purpose, bad come to Kilferran; but no tongue eyllabled De Valmont‘s name, and no incldent in the various storles which wore in clrealation scemâ€" ed to the Prior or to Brother Cyprian to bave any reference to Louis, either under his own or under an assumed name. â€" Neither had tidings been reâ€" ceived of the ship, and the inquliries made by the Prior now received deâ€" eponding â€" answers. â€" Brother Cyprian #ntortained no further hope, and not long after he fell sick. He did manful battle with illness for long, with the declining strength, the waning energy, the dullnose and supineness of . mind and body which were daily making havoe with him ; he filled his place in choir, in pulpit, In the sanctuary, in refectory. His eloquence was not the less burning that he had tho strength to use it but seldom ; he gained hearts within and without the community which he had not previously touched. so convinced was Brother Cyprian, over whom the strange enlfghten- ing influence of approaching dea th rapidly assumed power, that his brother no longer lived, that ho reâ€" quested the Prior to permit the celâ€" ebration of a . solemn requiem for him,. which was granted. 9 This tas« completed, Brother Cypâ€" rian committed the writings to the custody of the Prior, who placed them in safety, and all traces of the moâ€" mentous occurrence which had disâ€" turbed his life awhiloe passed away. With the eword of persecution hanging over their heads, the monks of Kilferran assembled for the funeâ€" tion of the requiem. Their homely chapel was hung, their uncostly alitar was draped in black, and never had the strains of the ‘Do Pro. fundia‘ risen with . a more plercing and mourn{ul wail to hearen from out those venerable wualls. The voice of Erother Cyprian was heard among the singers, with a melody and an .?w of supplication in its tones in which many pretended later to have discerned nu:nt” and _ {farewell. Ts aB moves tnaineret I, pince Ln. 4 w Y knew him no . ngo,* and Jt became noiged abroad before long, in the little world whtch surrounded the Abbey, that Brother Cyprian was dying. The slow, insidious diseases of later times, products Jor the most part of our enervating civilizgation, were much less known in other days, when all the . conditions and habiâ€" tudes of life were simper and hardâ€" ler. .Men died of. fevers,.of gue, . of the "bidck death," _ They in genoral a shorter time th ?e people Of this epoch im the world‘s history live, and were counted aged men when our contemporariee afe. reckoned in the middle term of life. There woere unusual and m-."steri§< symptoms about this mortal s‘¢kâ€" ness of Brother Cyprian, long trances of seeming unconsci>usness, in which no sound of any human voice could s reach him as to arouse recogn‘â€" ton, andâ€"when yet his face wore a amile as though evoked by some vo‘ce or presence unseen by tho watchers by his bed, patient, unskil{al men, with only goodwill to bring to their task. Muttered sounds of pleading, of dread, of remonstrance, for the most part inarticulate, but awluily ex« pressive, broke the stilliness of night, and chilled the hearts of the hearâ€" ers. They had little experience of minds diseased, and Brother Cy prian was not to be suspected of a burdened . conscience, A troubled soul. And yet in these ramblings of the mind, freeing itself from the fra« gile, fading body, there was _ disâ€" turbance, agitation : â€" wild vagaries of memory distracted the dying man; names which belonged to _ another country. to a phuse of history out of which the world had passed, came frequently from his lips. There was much coming and going to and from Kilferran Abbey now, and troubled consultations between the Prior and the monks and the stranâ€" gers who brought them confirmation and warning of their evil days near at hand. But amid all this, undisâ€" turbed by the pressing trouble and danger, occupied by quite other thoughts, dragged back, by the mysâ€" terions power which rules the spirits of the dying, to which he had so long ago renounced, Brother Cyâ€" prian lay on his deathbed. Late one night, when the whole community had long retired to their cells, save only the watchers, one of them came to Prior and told him that the monk desired to see him. The Prior instantly complied with the summons, and entering the cell found Cyprian awake, quite sensiâ€" ble and calm, but with a look in his dark, worn, feeble face which can never be mistaken by any one who has seen it onceâ€"the look which tells that immortality is very near. The monk‘s thin transparent hands were stretched out before him and clasped, and his eyes were closed ; but they opened as the Prior _ ap proached, and all the trouble, restâ€" lessness, the vague anguish which had been in them of late, was gone. "Yes, father; I wante to . speak with you alone. My time is very short now. Let the community pray for me, and do you hear my last con fession."‘ i "You sent for me, my son," said the Prior, advancing to the side of the rude pallet on which the dying man lay. â€" For some weeks no such clear and coherent words had come from Broâ€" ther Cyprian‘s lips. _ _ _ _ "And now," said the «dying man, when his confession was ended, and silence had prevailed for a little while, "I will tell you how it _ is that my last night on earth is passâ€" ing on to the morning." "Pelil me, my son," said the Prior, whose habitual composure was seâ€" verely taxed, for he loved the duti ful and zealous monk with _ more than the perfunctory affection supâ€" posed to be inherent in a "superâ€" jor," and who had just listened to a strange and melancholy history. I must summon our brother infirm arlian." "You are not suffering, and I am not leech enough to read the sub tle signs of approaching dissolution "Not yet, not yet, for a_ little while. This, father, is how I know the truth. It was not quite midâ€" night when I awoke from a refreshâ€" ing sleep and found my brother Louis standing beside me." Octopus is largely eaten in the Isle of Jersey. Picric acid, a component of lydâ€" dite, is used to adulterate beer. Hedgehog, baked in a clay oven, is a dish any epicure might envyy. The lcelander eats dried fishâ€"andâ€" butter just as we eat breadâ€"andâ€" butter. _ Sherry owes its peculiar taste to sulphate of lime, two and a half pounds of which are added to each 1,800 pounds of grapes. A penny will buy twenty times as much nourishment in the shape _ of ontmeal as in the form of beef. Meat has been preserved in a frozâ€" en state for thirty years, and found perfectly eatable at the end of that time. A Chinese drink is made of lamb‘s Mesh, bruised with rice, and _ ferâ€" mented. N Vermouth is made of white wine, flavored with red Peruvian bark, rhubarb, orangeâ€"peel, iris root, verâ€" pnica, â€" centaury, cinnamon, _ elderâ€" flowers, germander and sugar. Traly a wonderful compound! The sterlet, caught in Siberian riâ€" vers, competes with the pompano, from the Gulf of Mexico, as the most delicious fish in the world. A company has been formed to supply the English market with reindeer venison. Telemarken, in Norway, is its headquarters. 1t hasa a head of 24090 deer. In Mauritius they make tea of the leaves of an orchid. In Peru they drink mate, a tea made from &# native species of holly. The Abysâ€" sinians make a tea from the leaves of catha edulis, which has strong, stimulating qualities.â€"â€"Answers. Austria is the one country in the world which never puts a woman in prison. Instead of giving the female criminal so many months in jail she is sent, no tter how terrible is her record.%w or uther of the convents devot for the purpose and there kept during the time for which she is sentenced. The convent i# not a mere prison in disguise, for ?tl notul:-ty;lrd ;,“"3' open all day ong, the only bar to egress being a nun, who acts as portress, just as in other convents" "*V j â€",; "ay, 0 No Women‘s Prisons. Queer Things to Eat. (To be Contlinued.) % $ Fow;cenhrlel scientists have been ; second, 280 feet each way and Z0 ende@voring to ascertain the exact | feet in height ; third, 188 feot dimengions and the other secrets of | £9uare and 15 feet h?; fOlll"d_ m 146 feet square and 15 feet high; the ingchitecture pt. the ’lb'wer s of fifth, 104 feet square hnd 15 feet Babel, but, though many ingenioUu8 | jigh ; gixth, 62 feet square and 15 .thqr have been broached and some | feet high, and seventh, z0 feet square N‘flfl le facts . have been gathered, | and 15 feet high. The height of the no authoritative statement in reâ€"| ark he places at 15 feet and he %fl %o the famous tower has been | thinks that it covered the entire iorthcoming until now, when it | seventh story. The original height reaches us in the form of an ancient | of the tower, he says, was 156 feet. Greek manuscript, which was recent Now, a comparison of these figures ly discovered by M. de Mely, the dis | with those in the (Greek manuseript tinguished> French archaeologist. The | will show a striking discrepancy in exact date of his manuscript does not ) some important particulars. Bir seem to be known, but M. de Mely | Renry evidently had an admirable and several of his colleagues . of t.hfl‘mnception of the tower as it exâ€" Academy of Inscriptions . who hu.vei isted in the time of Nebuchadnezâ€" examined it are confident that it i%| zar, but if the Helienic writing is corâ€" ome of the oldest in existence nl'ld i rect the dimensions as given by the that the facts contained therein| English archaeologist and as reâ€" may be accepted as Thistorical. !produved in Mr. Paimer‘s model are To the modern world this ancient| rot accurate, The building, accordâ€" document is of value because it conâ€" | ling to these newly discovered data, tains a very clear description of the| was evidently of greater height and Tower of Babel. The Tower, it say8, ; width than Sir Henry Rawlinson imâ€" was â€" eightyâ€"four â€" kilometres dlstunt'nxlned it to be. lntg ‘To the modern world this ancien‘*| rot accurate, The building, wccordâ€" document is of value because it CODâ€" | ing to these newly discovered data, tains a very clear description of the| was evidently of greater height and Tower of Babel. The Tower, it say8, ; width than Sir Henry Rawlinson imâ€" was â€" eightyâ€"four kilometres distant | agined it to be, from Babylon, and its basement Of | _A fact, however, which should be first story was 184 metres on each | borne in mind is that the existing side and seventyâ€"five feet hiN\ the | ruins of the tower, which are known middle was a square tower, ~~CO01â€"| as Bars Nimrud and which may be structed of #ix stories, placed _ OnNs | seen in Barsippa, a former suburb of mabove the other, and at the summit | Babylon, cannot properly be said ‘to was a small sanctuary. represent the original building, since The beight of these stories was 67| they are merely the relics of the old metres, and an exterior stairway,| tower as restored by Nebuchadnezâ€" containing â€" 365 steps, led to _ the | zar. sanctuary. _ These steps, of which| About the original tower we know 803 were fashioned of silver and 60| very little, except what the Bible of gold, were designed to represent | tells us. ‘Tradition says that it was a the 365 days of the year. Farther:| sanctuary of Nebo or Nabu, the special more, the seven stories were intendâ€"|god of Babylon, and, according to ed to correspond to the seven days Herodotus, the upper tabernacle was of the week, and also toa the weeks | furnished with a bed, which the people of the year, since 365, the number of | believed was used by their god as & the steps, divided by 7, the number rast.lng‘ place. Long before !\ebucbgd- of the stories, gives us 53, the numâ€" | NeZZAr® time the wonderful old buildâ€" ber of the weeks in each year. ing had begun to crumble into ruing, Furthermore, a very old legend says ‘ and one of his first acts after he that the varions stories were pn.int- ucem}ed the throne was to order that e t S C l link: ths nflanats it be restored with great q!lem' Furthermore, a very old legend says that the varions stories were paintâ€" ed so as to ~~present the planets which are supposed to rule over the days of each week. Thus the lowest story was painted black, this being Saturn‘s color; the next â€" was paintâ€" ed orange, in honor of Jupiter; the third was painted red to represen® Mars ; the fourth was of a golden hue, the sun being symbolized in this fashion : the fifth was painted yelâ€" low in honor of Yenus ; the sixth was blue, this being Mercury‘s color, mu{ the seventh was silver, in honor of the moon. «y To Americans the discovery of tMis old Greek manuscript is of _ special interest, for the reason that . &A model of the Tower was constructed in this country some time ago and was exhibited at the National Muâ€" seum, in Washington. The model was the work of Mr. Joseph Palmer, who shaped it in accordance with the theory of Sir Henry Rawlinson, the famous Orientalist. Sir Henry, A{â€" ter long investigation, concluded that the tower was composed of seven stages, each of which was an exact equare, and that on the seventh w as placed the ark, or tabernacle, ‘The dimensions of the building he gives as follows: First story, 973 feet each way and 26 feet in height ; The first vanâ€"load of goods had just been deposited on the premises of our new home, and my wife and I were vainly wond>ring hbow many days it would take us to create a paraâ€" dise out of our chaos, when â€" from somewhere appeared in our midst a slip of a girl, scrawny, dirty â€" and spiritiess, who announced, in a thin voice, without any preliminaries "Ma wants to borrow your mop." Of course the mop was one of the few things distinguishable in the mass of househo!ld matorial, so the child shoulderad it and departed, omitting to say "thark you." Before entrustâ€" ing her with it we had elicited the information that her mothar lived "rext door." gy 9°: brought it back ourselves. really wasn‘t the same mop. ECemmoe en o Oe ies‘ i With the arrival of the second van, arrived again the girl, who said that *<r mother desired to be accommodatâ€" »4 with a little salt, This is not the exact language, out the import is similar. _ However, we eouldn‘t find the salt, because we should reâ€" guire some for supper, and therefore, nccording to ail the laws of moving, it was at the very bottom of the heap, hidden in a coal bucket. _ _ xsd ul B 2 1 2 0000000000A mc ntoe 7 ‘The third and last van stimulated our ncighbor to send . for matches. But ths matches wore with the salt. Tiis finished the elvilities, or élaos- tiiities. of the first Â¥, save _ that, just at supper time, the femimuc Mercury bore to us, with the compliments of "ma," half a loaf of very soggy bread. The next day she borrowed a whole loa{, much bettor. But I am anticipating. The following day, while we were eating breakfast, a knock sounded on th> kitchen door, and there was the girlâ€"more scrawny, more dirty and more spiritless than ever, who asked: " Pa wants to know if you‘ll lend him a little tobaccoâ€"jos a pipeâ€"full." 8Bo "pa‘"‘ was joining forces with "ma." I do not #mokq That morning we loaned "next door" six egfl. a pan of flour, the axe, a loaf of brard and the handle. The egrs were called Tor rn instalâ€" The eggs were called JOFf iN INSVA"® ) ‘lius was too much for even the ments, to wit : forbearance of my better hall. She Three eggs at eight o‘clock, one egg| decided that borrowing was a bad at nino o‘clock and two eggs at|lmbit, and should net b> encourâ€" eleven o‘clock. aggd. We are now fighting it with That noon I was forced to mhllmll our feeble power. "Eis," the the pump handle, but loaned it again| only name we have heard for the immediately. Thenceforth, for several ) slabâ€"sided girl, stood looking over days, wh>never we wanted the pumpâ€"| thr fence yesterday as my wile handle and the axe we were accorded| was watering the plarts and waid, the privilege of using them for a briel | sadiy, thatshe was sorry we didn‘t instant, and at once they went back}let "ma" have the things she asked ‘"next door." | for, as the neighbors were now, smayâ€" In the afternoon we got rid of the ing we were to> poor to have them. butcher knife only. But we were away | That mad> m» iron, and T resolved to from oneâ€"thirty until late at night, l?tbuuat any cost. and the house was well locked, Bo was evertholess, I am consclous, while th» barn and the wood shed. :mmmm:g‘ mggmtmdmwmu-»mwmm a %elttth;lflmldu- to th» ) handleâ€"a new inquire wh:ther we had auy spare #flxmvm‘..,- :m Inâ€"the afternoon we got rid of the butcher knife only. But we were away from oneâ€"thirty until late at night, and the house was well locked, Bo was th> barn and the wood shed. _ needed that mop But it as Bars Nimrud and which may be seen in Barsippa, a former suburb of Babylon, cannot properly be said ‘to represent the original building, since they are merely the relics of the old tower as restored by Nebuchaduezâ€" zar. The present ruins convist of a h irregular mound, which rises &bflu?y from a wide desert plain, and which is crowned by th> ruins of a tower, the height of mound and tower being 153 feet, Most of the bricks which have been excavated from ihis mound bear in cuneiform characters the name of Nebuchadnezzar, and on one of them is an inscription which says that a former king had built this tower, but had not completed the uppermost story, and that the people had abanâ€" doned th> building ages ago. Now the suggestion has been made that the dimensions as given in the Greeck manuscript may be those of the original tower and not of the building as restored by Nebuchadnez« zar. This, however, is not likely to be the case. In the first place, thersa is ample testimony that the original building was practicailly in ruins wher Nebuchadnezzar began his work o restoration, and it is hardly probable that any authentic description of it was handed down from generation to generation, and, in th> second place, there is internal evidence that the author of the Greek manuscript was referring to the tower or its ruins as they existed in his own time.â€"N. Y. Herald. cream, because their supply had soured. Mrs. J,, who is altozether too kindâ€" hearted, gave ber hall a pint. It might be well to state here that matches, eggs, cream, bread, flour and othor eatables were to be repaid to us This was a gand theory, but seemed to lack backbone. & The morning passed uneventfully, since such matters as lending the lawn mowaer and waching machine do not count. Just as we were seated at dinner, "next door" despatched a request for soup plates. (toa The end was drawing near. Unlese we took a firm stand, soon we would be having our mail addressed "next door," where all our other belongings were. Before the end did come the followâ€" ing commands, petitions or announceâ€" ments were listened to, and, if I were not about, to stiffoen my susceptible helpâ€"meet, they were granted : _ " Ma wants to borrow half a dozen napkins." (Granted.) " Ma sent me to know if she might get a couple of towels." (Granted.) "Fa wants to us your saw a min« ut*.‘ (Refuse:. We were gettinrg so destitute that one day we made a raid, and _ colâ€" lectsd all we could of what we had loaned, _ "Next door" was rather inâ€" dignant, but what could we do? The mop was much the worse for wear, and the washing machine had not been cleaned ; the pump handle could not lb found ; the axe and the butcher knife were nicked ; the lawn mower had a cracked blade ; two soup plates were missing; the napkins were not our napkins, and the towels had been utiliza‘ to scoure a stove. "Ma ain‘t got any oclean â€" sheets and can you io.ks lend bher one?" (Refused with horror). "Next door" did not stay â€" "mad" long, however, for when Mrs. J. was cleaning off the dinner table next and said "Eay, have you any meat left over? We‘ve got a lot of folks come unexâ€" pected, and I aint a bite hardly to fexd ‘em." ; Ehe spied the platter, with some tenderloin remaining on it, destined for a savory stew in the near future This, without mors ado, she appropriâ€" ated, andâ€"horrible dictulâ€"in paseâ€" Ing out she speared with her fork a well garnisirimd bone lying discarded on a plaiteâ€"cither my wile‘s or mine. This was too much for even the forbearance of my better hall, She decided that borrowing was a bad l\nblt.;nd should %h.fib’ ‘:noortl; aggd. We are now ting w all our feeble power. "Eis," the ay, ma" «ushad in in great haste, 3 %2 Aul: