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 £ SACRIFICE OR, or l-o^ ® or Her* ,^ CK PKECKDIXG CHAPTERS. r"i'\ntho'i, a millionairess in love r Vl tiiu youns:! daugUter of Graham ",V a I'L-iitleman of wealth, who '"'"'â- "'., '-mi Iticciue involved. Muriel, ::uii I • Ukim ;CCllie and respecting Anthon, 'fb !ve' i'iu'iTaBd tells her fa_ther S9,_ '"" ' her to accept him. This she J"""' j'j,e "impression that her father ' ]ym and ttiat he is willing to ac- â-  !al liking and respect she can hfba- Her father, however, docs net dicves that Muriel really ^-hri l)C t dees not take very long after t„ onvince him to the contrary, 11 all respects Muriel endeavors to wife. Believing that he father what she told siie i fenth'.uy i]ti- to IS L,n, (1 fi'Ciii her â-  sav:^ nothing, and their life passes eno\i"h until llussel receives Mt xijo which necessitates hii tlie story of his twin brother I .jic s:;ipegrace of his family, who, fiVa q'-ii"" over cards accidentally iVii frieiii!, fled from home, disappear- I „as thought dead. The letter from ' i^, however, from him. Dying of alone among strangers, he implores [pfto I'o t3 him. Muriel bids Russel tl;e vow he made his dying mother .frieiul his brother should he ever have IpMituDitv, and urges him to go to his t brother. Kusscl goes to Mexico, finds Irotbcr, nurses him through the sickness, i finally struck down by the fever him- Jn the meantime, however, Arundel 1 Muriels pictuie, which Russe had fctntallv (Iropptd on his bed, falls in love the i)eauti!ul unknown face, and is bv Kiis.=el asleep with the locket ,1 'i:i his hands. Russel tells him |e picture it is; and just as they are Vin" to start for home Russel is struck I bv the fever. Arundel watches by there are evident signs that,weak- [tylii^long journey, worn out by his Lttenilance at liis brother's bedside, Rus tie is coming to a close. They are being Tiunilcil by Indians, and at the last mom- [believing that nothing can save Rus- â- anil that it n for Muriel's sake, Arun- Jatliers up every thing of value belong- fto hl^ brother, and after some moments Inesohition, (juits the hit, mounts his anil tlies over the plain. He makes Kv to Muriel, who to recognize him as Iksbanil and, in their first conversation li:: that she never loved him as she does tells him she shortly expects to be lother. Meanwhile, Rus el Anthon, ta prisoner by tha Indians, recovers from sickness, and alter several attempts, es- itrom hii captors, and broken in health spirits, • makes his \v ay home. On his tney he meets a man calling himself Irv Glenmore, whose only hope is to live enough to see his boy; whom Russd l!y offers t adopt and care for.] IIIAPTKIL XIV. tCONTIN-UED.) [lie man tluit called himself Henry 'Jlen- eri^cil his earnest eyes upon his com- I'sfa.e, 'Yo;; arc a uoble man,"' he said; "I Byou n y Ijoy, and 1 can die easier,know- |1 leave him in your care. It must seem age to you that 1 have not a friend nor a Itive to whom I could leave my child â€" Imvboy has proud, pure blood in his f Every lii'o has in it iomething which strange \;iitil it is understood," said hel gently. for a long time that nisjht they talked jethcr, and though Henry Glenmore did ppeak !m;ch of Ids past life, he talke.l pscrvedly of I is boy, and of the little ge among the hills, where he had liv- feincG he was a tiny-baby. rTi;e woman who takes care of him is a fpie-litartfcd countrywoman," he said; p knows nothing of me, save that; my pis dead, and that I am out here. I h told y,,u about her, fcecause" â€" and Mrrn lips quivertd a little â€" "if I should live to get there, you will know all t^iit It you can go and find R,oy." P^th men v.ere terribly v orn and weary a few days later, they reached Guay- Kujsel told the American Consul fre the story of his capiure, then with amore he began his homeward journey, fjioas!! his heart was filled with doubts 'â- 'farswith legard to Arundel, still a pptiiankfulncss rose within that he was nia way back to Muriel; he could not pram ills intense longing to see her again; py nbrc of his being quivered as he F?ht(..t the time when he should fold f "ms around her, feel his head upon her *s^t he did notnuinnur against li's fate 'CO had iiiiposcu upon him pain, hard- fP, suffering, he only thanked God that ' aliowta him to live to g'S home to nei. ° W the man who was trying to live long L" â-  ',° 'â- ' '" ^^'inld again, how he strug- L "^, tlcath. He knew he was doomed Ltl "^*^^. inevitable; and he prayed r- "" he might see his boy once more. ' "ot to be. Russel knew that ".] ^^^5 fast ebbing away that he would 'â- ^â- e to see the little son he seemed to "«»o dearly and one night they stopped town, and Hemy Glenmore *m tSf' y'"^^^ find letteB, papenithat inmK ot that, I am tpQ near death Ynn will not know what tTdof^dXr IZ never know. unleaa-RuBs;!. you^^^i "^J I W "*° "^^^" ^^ **â„¢er friend than I had m you. And, Rowel, yon aay yoS are a rich man, that you have no n^d of Si^Tr"^,^y°"'°»y°ee^ it. It that time ever should come, if you shnuld lose your money., or should be in want of more! will you promise that you wfltuse what I leaveyou?Th«.ek enough for you and Koyâ€" promise me, Russel, promise me '" Une of the terrible paroxysms of pain was coming on again, and to quiet him Russel promised, never thinking the time would come when but for his dying friend's money he would be as utterly without means m '^^ poorest beggar in the streets. With Russel's name upon his lips Henrv Glenmore died, and when he had seen the earth fall upon all that was mortal of the man whose life he knew had held a secret -Kussel Anthon went on his way alcna. CHAPTl'IR IV. It was late in the afternoon of a dreary October day that Russel Anthon ai rived in New York. A fine drizzling rain was tailing, and thece was a penetrating chill in the damp air which made people draw their wraps closer about them, while they thought regretfully of the warm, golden summer days that had passed. As he hurried through the depot he heard one lady say to another, "What an intensely gloomy day," and he smiled a little glad, happy smile. Gloomy, why it seemed to him the very brightest, most beautiful day that ever I'i. little "^n upon the bed which was his death- iJff^^'"' "'"' -Anthon you want to get Lg,.°^'°"'"'fe. I am not afraid to die teo " tl!^ pleaded but Russel answered Ittr'el T,"S"i he was indeed longing to see ' tt' t remained until the end with .^'i lor whom he had come to feel, ddl Ir ^^°^^ companionship, a wanu I'-^^P affection. "^t^^^ struggle was a long and painful dyin *^^ ^^^»el'a hand that wiped from iin{;^"^^^'3 brow the icy drops wrung 'â- 'voke th !^'"' physical agony, Rus- idconT I ,* P'^J"^^ for liim, that soothed j^comiorted nim. ^the day he died. He had been itiy lor Some time, moaning ana then in pain, when suddenly ',?gied Ins eyes. and^'wiVj"^,'^^ friend," he said, slow- 'fythin^ "'ffiralty, "I have told yon 'thtre^. ^^^ money and about Roy, oattnv If"""*^^* I meant to teU y«.n " ^- Jt 13 right that you should BfjVf for the -Wt box""' l*""*^' ^^^^ y°^ ™°** ^°^ \vhich I have always carried ..•-g,.n.v,o.., uiuoK ucauLiiui uay inaL dawned, for was it not the day which was bringiuff him home to Muriel? What though the rain was falling, there was sun- shine in his heartâ€" sunshine that shone Ilia nTTn n n»^..J 1Z \~ i. Jl 1 igiuff him home to Muriel? though the rain was falling, there shine in his heart â€" sunshine that ouuuc m his eyes, and lighted up the thin, pain- worn face. Even the stoical hackman whose services he engaged to convey him home, noticed the quiver of eagerness in lis voice, and was somewhat touched by the wistful earnestness of the deep, patient eyes. "Shure and it's hurry what you be wanting,' 1 will sar, if that's he said, emphati- cally, -an me nosses snail travel their lively best " Whereu on he jumped on his box, and con- trary to his usual custom, whipped up his by no means fiery horses until they went alongat what,wastothem a most extraordina- ry rate of speed, while the white-faced man inside the carriage leaned back against the cushions, trying to be patient, trying to calm the wild beatings of his heart. Sometimes before it bursts over their heads men feel the cold, dark shadow of the storm-cloud which is to wreck their dearest hopes and flood their soul's with misery. Russel Anthon had no such presentiment of any coming evil, there was not a doubt in his mind but that he would find his young wife just as he had left her â€" his own beauti- ful, idolized Muriel. From his heart the prayer was going up that there would be ofily one change in her, this, that during his long absence she had come to love him with a love deeper, more intense than she had given him before he went away from her. As the carriage drove along through the familiar streets up the well- remembered avenue, he was thinking how he sbould find her. She would be at home, of course, and he was glad that it w^s a rainy day, for if it had been bright and char, Muriel might have gone out calling or shopping; but she never went out on stormy days, she hated cold and darkness and ran. God grant that none of I'fe's pitiless rain should ever fall upon her dear head â€" it never should, it would be his life-labor to make her -liappy. She could not bear grief and pain, she was so dainty and tender â€" his dear little love â€" and it should never be hers to bear, not so long as she lived. Perhaps Mrs. Trowbridge was spending the day with her, and he would find them both sitting in Muriel's boudoir: there would be a fire burning on the hearth â€" Muriel loved .^pen fires â€" and there would be flowers in the vases on the mantel, and on the table would be her dainty little work- basket filled to overflowing with gay bits of satin, and many-tin. ei embroidery silks; and Leo would be lying on the hearth, and oh, what a glad, bright, happy home coming it would he Then a shadow of sorrow fell upon the noble, unselfish heart. Arundel, poor Arundel Ah, if he was sitting beside him, going home with him. Where W..8 he?â€" his poor brother What a strange journey it had been, that one to Mexico; it seemed as if it had been all in vain, all for naught; he was going home, yet he did not know as much of Arundel as he had done 'when he had started in search of him. Was he ly- ing dead out there on the plains of Mexico or was he still living his lonely, isolated life ' The carriage stopped, and Russel lo'^kyig out, saw that it had come to a standstill in front of a dark, gloomy looking house which had every appearance of beinj- shut up ami unoccupied there were no curtams at tne windows, the dark green sbades were drawn down, the massive vestibule door was closed. This was not his house, the driver hadmde a mistake, and he told him so when he ap- peared at the carriage door. "Well, it's number fifteen, and that's the number you gave me, sur," said the man: cheerfully "but it looks deserted like, now doan't it as though the famUy were away. Shall I go np *nd see. sur?" No, he would go himself; and as he went up the broad, stone stepa-alow y, because of the injured limb that would never be strong again-Russel Anthon felt for the firat tim? a vague presentiment of coming evil he knew Bot what it was, te %as only conscioMof a curious icy feeliDK around his S^, and his hand trembled as he pulled %^ioadly it sonnded itseemed to echo through the quiet hodae then after a mo^ Shehea/d a footatep. th= heavy door ^« open, and • aer«mt-vri appeared X^fookld ;* him woi^deringly as he m- nnired for Mrs. Anthon; '• • TB., ^^Mrs. and Mr. Ruwel Anthon are m J- ropert^eyMl^dlaat July. ' anawered the girl. ^^tbe.Uo-x feU. joatat » thunder-bolt laus trom heaven, scorching and onrooting- mg the flowers that a moment before we?e noddmg their pretty beads, all unconscious of the cruel fate awaiting them; and yet God controls D. core. Forasojond he stood in sUence. Was she mad, .his girl? She must be. for there wasno ::-3e, no reason in what she had just said. "Mr. aiid Mrs. Russel Anthon," he re- peated, slowly. "Why, what do you mean?" Ihe girl had been regarding him curious ly, wondering who he was, that lame, prey haired m'uj, whose thin, white face bore so plainly the marks of pain and fatigue he looked bke a gentleman and probably he was some friend of Mr. ^thons, and had not known of his absence from the city. So endeavoring to be very explicit, she answer- ed •. "I mean, sir, that soon after Mr. Russel Anthon came home from Mexico, Mrs. An- thon's father and mother had to go abroid. Mr. Towbridge had business there, and Mrs. Anthon she took it into her head to go with them so they all went over together in the same sterner, Mr. and Mrs. Anthon and Mr. and Mrs. Towbridge, and none of them are home yet, and we don't know when they will be." ' He put one hand to his head in a helpless, despairing sort of a way into his eyes came a look like that which comes into the eyes of a dumb animal wounded unto death, yet not knowing whence came the tuUet that has entered its heart and the girl, half frightened by the strange expression of his pallid face,"8aid quickly " Perhaps you would like to see the he use- keeper, sir, she knows more about it than 1 do, and if you come in I'll call her." Mechanicsdly he followed her, sinking down upon a chair in the darkened parlor, staring about him when she ha^ lelt him alone, looking at the shrouded pictures and statuary, the furniture covered with brown holland, the draped mirrors. All the ex- quisite ornaments he remembered so well had been packed away, the bronzes, the par- ian figures, the costly bric-a-brac there was a vault-like chill in the house â€" and this was his home-coming. Where were the flowers, the bright faces Where was Muriel With a low cry he started to his feet. I' must be all a dream, he was in the grasp of a horrible nightmare from which he would soon awaken. That girl was surely crazy, for had she not said Mrs. and Mr. Russel Anthon had gone to Euiope in July, soon after Mr. Russel Anthon came home from Mexico What did she mean by saying that â€" was he not Russel Anthon, standing there m the pirlor of his own house? A sudd' n thought darted through his half par dyzed brain could it be that Arundel had come home in his stead No, no, it could not be, that was too horrible yet he had read of such things. He remembered a book that he had once read Afherein one man had murdered another, and then had takeu that other's place in life, bearing his name, ocaupying his position in society, spending his money, playing his infamous pait so well that no one had^uspected that he was not the man he represented himself to be. The book had bren dramatized and he had seen it played upon the stage it had made a great impression upon him, and at the time he wondered if such a tecrible thing could happen in real life â€" whetfier it was possible for a living man to deliberately commit such a sin. Some one was coming along the hall he heard the rustle of a dress, tnd he raised his head as a lady entered the room and ad- vanced toward him; a lady rather stout and of about middle age, with iron-grey hair arranged smoothly, who, after waiting a moment for him to speak, said, in a slightly aggrieved tone of voice "The servant told me that you did not seem to be aware of the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Anthon were in Earope." With that same dumb look of entreaty in his hollow eyes he looked at her. " Mr. Rugffcl Anthon " he said, slowly. "Mr. Russel Anthon,' repeated the housekeeper, with dignity, "there is no other Mr. Anthon, I belive. You are a friend of his " She was rather at a loss how to treat this palefaced young man, who looked as though he could scarcely stand from weak- ness. He bowed his head, he could not speak, it seemed as if icy fingers were clutchinir his throat. " Then probably you know that he went to Mexico last March, on business, I believe. I was not here at the time Mrs. Anthon en- gaged me a month or two after he had gone;, be came back in June, and ho\^ glad Mrs Anthon was to see him." "Glad " The word came from the colorless, trem- bling lips, and the housekeeper thought the strange gentleman had certainly the most curious voice s: e had ever heard, it had such an odd, muffled sound; altogether he was a most uncomfortable person to talk with, and she heartily wished he would tell her his business and take his depart- ure. „ "Certainly, she was glad, she said, quickly, " tuey are devoted to each other; she seems to worship him; there was not a servant in the house but noticed the change in her after he came home; she was happy as a child, laughing and sink- ing, going everywhere with him, as though she could not bear him out of her sight." But oh, the horrible agony that was fast raging within him It seemed as if the earth was falling under his feet. ^^ "When are they coming home? He wondered at himself that he could ask the question so calmly, when it;*»8 as though his heart strings were snapping one after the other. Tfa« housekeeper looked at him a lutie- uneasily, wishmg he would tell her who he was and what he wanted. Still, he was a gentleman; one glance at him told thatâ€" probaHy some old finend of Mr. Antbon's, and as such had a nght, or at least felt that he had, to ask questaona re- earding him. ' â-  " Mr. andMiH. Trowbridge expect tore- turn next month." she said; "Mr. Mid Mrs. Anthon will remain abroad unUlâ€" She paused «8 if mMjei^tain what to a^y to finiah her sentence, y,;.: » "Until when?" .. ' «« Unfi after the birth, of theur chiM. The climax of asjony ifaa reached^ Mith held no sufferiM! greater than that which he waa now enduring. The numb agony was giving way to sharp, acutts painâ€" ag«my that aiiemed to be tearing lira lieart ottt of him. AbhiiaktingB like the hne of daakh crept over )ifB face:; be aeemed to be losing 4m power of moving Hm Uqod in hia Vagina seemed to be taming t) ice. Snraly, ii here waa ever death in Kfe, then thia waa it. The hoosekeeper noticed his death-like pUIor, and attribated it to the cloaenesaf, of the long aont-up apartment. v I " tet me open the window," she said; "it is very clbse in here." "No, I am going now."' " Will yoa leave me your name, sir ' she asked, a Uttle anxiously. He turned his dark mournful eyes npeu her. Ah, Heaven, the misery in those eyes "No matter about my name," he sa*. 1 it is enooeh that I have been here." Slowly ^he went out of the house â€" the house which had once been his home â€" the housewhichhe had bought and paid for, and and in which now he waa a stranger. The carriage which had brousrht him there was still waiting he had forgotten to pay and dismiss the driver, who \( as contentedly sitting on his box, waiting for him, and who jumped down as soon as he siw him descending the steps. " Whfere shall I drive you now, sur " he asked, briskly, ts he threw open the car- riage door. Russel Aathon loo' ed at him just as you might imagine a homeless bepgar in the streets would look at any one who would ask him where hia home was. "I do not know," he said slowly, in a low, expressionless voice, and then mecha- nically he allowed himself to be assisted in- to the carriage, while the driver, having shut the door, ascended to his own seat and shook the reins over his horses. " He's a stranger in the city, the poor, sick gentleman," he said to himself, "an' since he's lift it to me entirely, I'll take him to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, for it's the most cintrally located and the most convan- ient an' if it was meself that was boording at any hotel, that's the one I'd be after choosing. He looks mighty sick, the poor man. There's a quare look in his eyes that I doan't like, an' 1 am thinking its much thruble he's seen in his life. " As the housekeeper stood in the doorway looking after the carriage as it drove away, wondering to herself who the pale-faced sad-eyed man was, she was joined by the housemaid, who had opened the door for him, and who had a great curiosity to know who he was. "And didn't he tell you his name, Mrs. Andrews ' she said, with real disappoint- ment in her voice. "1 wonder who he is he acted so strange, and there was a queer look in hie eyes. Do you think he is all rie;ht in his head, Mrs. AndieiH " Ttie housekeeper shook her head muslos' ly- "I think his head is all right, but I'm afraid his heart isn't," she answered grave- ly. "I wish he had told me his name." And if he had, would she have believed him If he had said to her, ' ' My name is Russel Anthon,' would she not have thought like thehousemaid, that hisheadwasnotright? As it was, she thought that all was not right with his heart. Ah, that tortured, agoniz- ed heart, would it ever in this world be right again CHAPTER XVI Russel Anthon never really knew how he reached his room in the hotel. He had, as long as life lasted, a dim recollection of being whirled along through the streets, of stepping out of the carriage and paying the man what he asked, of being shown to a room, and sinking down heavily upon the first chair he happened to see. But once alone in that silent room, with the do^ closed between him and the world, with the hnmof the great, busy city coming faintly to his cars, a realizing sense of his own horrible misery swept over him, and he writhed in a great voiceless agony as, plainly and clear- ly he saw it all â€" his brother's treachery, Muriel's mistake, his own terrible position. Men and women suffer in proportion to the strength of their natures. IRussel An- thon's nature was an exceptionally strong one, and his sufferings were fearful. Ac- customed to look things fud in the face, to give small matters the same thought and consideration as the larger ones, it was im- possible now for him to pass over any detail of the terrible thing that hgA com 3 upon him. It was all there plain before him â€" would to God it had not been quite so plain, it would have been better had it come upon him more gradually. When he first realized what Arundel had done, when the conviction that his brother â€" the twin brother he had so dearly loved â€" had done him the foulest wrong that man ever did another, a tierce indignation had swept, over him, and his thoughts had b'.e i to go in search of him to accuse him to his face of having committed a sin, which con- sidering all the circumstances connected with it, was almost unparallelec^ to brand him in the eyes of the » orld as a man who had been a traitor to honor, truth, faith, everything that serves to make men worthy of their Maker. But that indignation had been short-lived, it had been crushed into nothingness by the agony that fell upon him, as listening to the housekeeper, he had un- derstood that Arundel, in his place, bearing his name, had won what he had failed to win â€" Muriel's love. She had never clung to him as he felt she clung now to his false brother, she had never followed him about as though she could not bear him out of her sight. By means of that wonderful power of winning love which be had always possessed to such a marvellous degree. Arnndel had awaken- ed in Muriel's heart the passionate lOve whidi Russel had always felt was slumber- ing there, and which he had prayerfully hoped that he would some day awaken. And Muriel. lovin« him â€" the man ahe thought waa her lawful husband â€" ^waa hap- py, gladly, joyfully happy, as she had not been with him. Ah, pitiful heaven, the thought wai, more bitter than death And if he should go and find them togethejr, and riionld hml Vtatt accnaation agiSnst Arun- del, eartii would hold no mose happineaa forMnriel, theamuihine jronld.he forever gone out df h«' life^ ahe wadld droop and Side aiid. die, and h^ who loved her ao, WAuld'have dealt har ^e deatii btow. " Until after thje birth ol her child." How tihe worda rang in his ears He had hoped that aome day a child woald lie npon Mbriefa ttreilW^ra' childâ€" «^bov a child ymcoaaingtolxT, not his, bat hia bro- *1»«'»--J»« Iwother, wbo had AtcOon evetj- lUlteg t|Hlt mads Ufa dfar. M^'a child, ^.ud Aiondel'sâ€" a'eM thai-aranld be a tie between them, binding them closer to- gether. And aopfOM Jdurid ahottld wvf come to know tiiat ahe had- f^een innocently guilty of the blackest ain it is poasible for a woman to commil^that she had given the love of a wife to a man who waa not her lawful hus- band â€" that she was the mother of a child whose father was not legally bound to her That knowledge would surely kill her she would never survive the shame and anguish of knowing that. He flung up his arms with a gesture of hopeless, intolerable despair. God in hea- ven, she should never know it Though it were a sin ten times more terrible than it was for her to live as she was doin^ with Arundel, he could not tell her. God knew that if she sinned she did it in mnccence He knew that there lived no woman purer by nature than she was, nor oue whose heart was more free from any taint of evil. He remembered the many times he had said to himself that for the sake of Muriel's happiness he would give up anything,every- thing, if it need be, in the world that if he could buy her joy and gladness only at the cost of his own life, he Would die without a murmur. But he had never thought the time would come when his love for her would be put to the test the time had come, he held her happiness in hie hands a word from him, and joy and gladness would go out of her life, in their place would come misery and bitter pain, and the con- sciousness of sin and shame. (to be contix ued. JfS ?ft A Few Simple Xeme^es. For croup, administer a teaspoonful of alum water: repeat the dose every fifteen minutes until free vomiting occurs. Put the feet and limbs in hot water, and then wrap up in flannel: place on the chest a poultice of corn- meal sprinkled with mustard. Beware of cold draughts. As the attack departs ad- minister a dose of magnesia, rhubarb or castor oil. When children are liable to croup, always keep the alum- water solution ready on the washstand. Toothache may be speedily ended by the application of a small bit of cotton satura- ted with ammonia to ttie defective tooth. It may be useful to know that hoarseness may be relieved by using the white of an egg thoroughly beaten, mixed with lemon juice and sugar. A teaspoonful taken oc- casionally is the dose. There is scarcely an ache towhich childrea are subject so hard to bear and so difficult to cure as an earache. A remedy which never fails is a pinch of black pepper gather- ed up in a bit of cotton batting, wet in sweet oil and inserted in the ear. It will give im- mediate relief. Remedy for c'lilblains â€" Take a piece of lime the size of your double fist; put it in warm water and soak the feet in it as warm as can be borne for half an hour. For a scald or burn apply immediately pulverized charcoal and oil. l.amp oil will do but, linseed is better. The effect is mira- culous. For chapped lips, mix two tablespoonfuls of clarified honey, with a few drop* of laven- der water, or any other perfume, and anoint the lips frequently. To remove warts, get a little bullock gall, and keep it iu a bottle, rub a JLfttle on the warts two or three times a oSy, and iu a short time they will disappear. To remove coldsorc, rub the first finger behind the ear and closd to the part which is joined to the head, and then rub the sore. The secretion removes the sore in a short time if applied every twenty minutes. To make a good sticking plaster, put two spoonsful of balsam of Peru to six of isin- glass, melted with very little water, and strained. Mix these well together in a stone jar over the fire. Pin out some black Per sian or sarsenet on a board, and dipping the brush in the mixture pass it over the silk five or six times; then hold it to the fire, but not very near, and it will soon become black and shining. Did the Cler jryman Folscn the Girl An inquiry was opened at West Mailing on Saturday, Dec ItJ, by one of the Coroners for Kent, into the death of a young woman named Sarah Ann Wright. The mother ot the deceased deposed that her daughter was only 16 years of age. On Thursday morning last the deceased told her that she had v m- ited some blood during the night. The vicar of the parish (the Rev. S. H. Timins) visited her occasionally and prayedawitb her. He eame on Thursday morning, and asked de- ceased how she was, and she replied that she was a little better, although the had a very bad night, and spat up a quantity of bleed. After some conversation he examin- ed her throat, which had grown out a little. He next patted her chest and said. • "My dear girl, you will get better. " Next he ask- ed witness for some water, and she gave him a wine glass half full. He took from his pocket a little bottle which luoked as if it contained whiskey, and then asked for a teaspoon. Witness could n^t say that what he poured from the bottle into the spoon he plac3d in the glass,, but she could swear that at the time she notio«ri a very strong smell of almonds. Less than five minutes after- ward her daughter, with a horrible screech, said. "Oh Mr. Timins!" three times, and Mr. Timins took^iold of her and sat heft oh the sofa, laying her head on his shoulder. At that time he offered witness something to drink out of the wine glaas. but it was de- clined, and he then said. "Oh I am not afraid to drink it," and promply swallowed it. He left soon after, and then her daughter cried Ibr her and began to retch. She be- came black in the face and month, and after that witoess went into hysterica, and re- membered very little else. She believed tuat Dr. Pope waa aent fofaotn after, but when he arrived the poor girl waa dead. A Burseon dqaaed that he was summ ned to the deceiwed, but found her already deal. Mr. Pound d^oaed to making a poat-mor- tem ^xamputkm of the body land finding a diatioci alinobd effluTinm. Parte of the body:^ had been handed over to anmityt. The itqniry waa then adjonmed until Ja 19th. ii ;r *. Jr' (• m .. ^w â- r i\ ^^^ 'LL^'iI i.c£^io^iC fcSK