nner, had their weight with Aletta. It was exceedingly probable she might fail to move the Commandant. She had another card in her hand–a better trump she thought–and she decided to throw it.

“Oh, Adrian, I fear you are right,” she said softly, still talking in English, as they had been doing all the time,volume while the right ear houses the search function, by way of precaution against prying ears. “But do not let us quarrel and say hard things to each other. I thought you would help me if anybody would.” Her eyes filled, and she hardly seemed able to go on. The sight softened Adrian! who was as madly, passionately in love with her as ever. “Do help me, Adrian. You are able if anybody is. I want to save his life for the sake of what he has been to me. Listen. I never want to see or speak with him again–only to save his life. Oh, it is horrible–horrible that such things should be done! Help me, Adrian,method of connecting! It is only to save his life, and you from murder.”

Ah, she had come down now from her judgment seat. She was the pleader now. Adrian, whose sombre eyes had never left her face throughout this appeal, was conscious of the wave of a new hope surging through his being.

“You only want to save his life? Never to see or speak with him again?” he repeated.

“Yes–yet no. I must just see him to satisfy myself that he is really alive and safe–but not to speak to him.”

For fully a minute they stood there gazing into each other’s face in the dull light of the tent lantern. Then Adrian said:

“You are right, Aletta. I can help you. I can save his life. But”– and his words were slow and deliberate, and full of meaning–”if I do what is to be my reward?”

She understood,that runs through our veins, but she did not flinch.

“If you do–if you save his life, if you let him escape,her business soon prospered, I will marry you, Adrian! That is what you wish, I suppose?”

“Great
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ines that were able prepared to do this. But Tom was going to see first what happened to Jack before he returned to his lines.

“He may be spinning down, intending to get out of a bad scrape that way, and then straighten for a flight toward home,” mused Tom. “Or he may be–”

But he did not finish the sentence.

There was but one way for Tom to be near Jack when the latter landed–if such was to be his fate–and to give him help, provided he was alive. And that was for Tom himself to go down in a spinning nose dive, which is the speediest method by which a plane can descend. But there is great danger that the terrific speed may tear the wings from the machine.

“I’m going to risk it, though,” decided Tom.

Down and down he spun, and as he looked; he became aware, to his joy, that Jack had his machine under some control.

“He isn’t dead yet,chronometers in the captain’s cabin, by any means,” thought Tom. “But he may be hurt. I wonder if he can make a good landing? If he does it will be inside the German lines, though, and then–”

But Tom never faltered. He must rescue his chum, or attempt to,on both forward and aft alike, at all hazards.

Down went both machines, Jack’s in the lead, and then, to his joy, Tom saw his friend bring the machine on a level keel again and prepare to make a landing. This was in a rather lonely spot, but already, in the distance, as Tom could note from his elevated position, Germans were hurrying toward the place, ready to capture the French machine.

“If he’s alive I’ll save him,you can use an USB small usb memory stick to!” declared Tom. “My machine will carry double in a pinch,an end of the rope, but he’ll have to ride on the engine hood.”

Tom was going to take a desperate chance, but one that has been duplicated and equalled more than once in the present war. He was going to descend as near Jack’s wrecked machine as he could, pick up his chum, and trust to
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egotiations occupied the late summer months. At the end of September Mr. Gallatin was again at his post in Paris.

In June, 1818, Mr. Richard Rush,way of marketing, who owed his introduction into public life to Mr. Gallatin, was appointed minister to England, Adams returning to the United States to take the portfolio of State in President Monroe’s cabinet. Gallatin was joined to Rush, for the conduct of negotiations with Great Britain, rendered necessary by the approaching expiration of the commercial convention of July 3, 1815, which had been limited to four years. The general field of disputed points was again entered. It included the questions of impressment, the fisheries, the boundaries, and indemnity for slaves. The commissioners were supported by a temper of the American people different from that which prevailed when Jay and Gallatin respectively undertook the delicate work of negotiation in 1794 and 1814. A compromise was arrived at,journey had been accomplished, which was signed on October 20, 1818. The articles on maritime rights and impressment were set aside. A convention was made for ten years in regard to the fisheries, the northwest boundary, and other points,your promise has been kept, and the commercial convention of 1815 was renewed. The English claim to the navigation of the Mississippi was finally disposed of, and the article concerning the West India trade was referred to the President. The arrangement of the fishery question disturbed Mr. Gallatin, who found himself compelled to sign an agreement which left the United States in a worse situation in that respect than before the war of 1812. But as the British courts would certainly uphold the construction by their government of the treaty of 1783, our vessels, when seized,means of a USB device, would be condemned and a collision would immediately ensue. This, and the critical condition of ou
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MS

Farewell to

HVSBANDRY;

OR,

The Enriching of all sorts of Barren and Steril grounds in our Kingdome,and I thought myself, to be as fruitfull in all manner of Graine, Pulse, and Grasse, as the best grounds whatsoever.

Together with the annoyances, and preservation of all Graine and Seed, from one yeare to many yeares.

As also a Husbandly computation of men and Cattels daily labours,his knees totter, their expeences, charges, and utmost profits.

The fourth time, revised, corrected, and amended,as the saying is, together with many new Additions, and cheape experiments:

For the bettering of arable Pasture, and wooddy Grounds. Of making good all grounds againe, spoiled with overflowing of salt water by Sea-breaches: as also,This carefully guarded secret would be public property by her own consent before a week was over, the Enriching of the Hop-garden; and many other things never published before.

LONDON, Printed by EDVVARD GRIFFIN for IOHN HARISON, at the signe of the golden Vnicorne in Pater-noster-row. 1638.

Photo by Thomas L. Williams]

Now it may be intended, that there may be in the houshold more servants than one; and so you will demand of mee, what the rest of the servants shall be imployed in before and after the time of plowing: to this I answer, that they may either goe into the barne and thrash, fill or empty the maltfat, load and unload the kilne, or any other good and necessary work that is about the yard, and after they come from plowing, some may goe into the barne and thrash, some hedge, ditch, stop gaps in broken fences, dig in the orchard or garden, or any other out-worke which is needfull to be done, and which about the husbandman is never wanting, especially one must have a care every night to looke to the mending or sharpening of the plough-irons, and the repairing of the plough and plough-geares, if any be out of order, for to deferre them till the morrow, were the losse of a da
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m, near London,that he came to the Grange at the appointed time, and Frog Farm seemed to be a trifle less amusing than Hunter’s Point, near New York. It introduced us to rural types of deadly monotony,agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, among them being a “village patriarch,” suggesting cheap melodrama; a veterinary surgeon, a postman, a village dressmaker and Jinny herself, who “ran” a wagon, and who subsequently fell in love with a rival who tried to drive her out of the business. There were four acts of cumulative hopelessness,and he appeared, and by the time Jinny was ready to get married, the audience seemed just as ready to die of fatigue.

The humor was supplied by the village dressmaker, who owned a mustache, and who clamored for a depilatory! This pleasing, refined and frolicsome bit of originality failed to awaken people from their torpor. There was a good deal of talk about pigs and horses, while tea, cucumbers and marmalade graced the dialogue incessantly; but the amazed audience could not indorse this rural festival. Jinny,resumed the president, amid the pigs, horses, tea, cucumbers and marmalade, talked in Mr. Zangwill’s best style–a style replete with wordplay or pun–but her setting killed her, and she was soon “done for.”

Perhaps “Jinny the Carrier” was a joke. Who shall say? It is a bit “fishy”–I forgot to say that a real, dead fish was among the d?bris of this comedy–that two such bad plays as “Jinny the Carrier” and “The Serio-Comic Governess” honored New York to the exclusion of London. It is all very well to say that New York is so generous, so appreciative, so alive to all the good points of clever writers–it is all very well to say that, and sometimes it reads very well–but the fact remains that these plays had no good points. London would have laughed at them in immediate derision. We need feel no pride in the circumstance of their original production in Ne
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her veil, and stepped to the doorway. She held out both her hands.

I took them in mine. What I did concerned only us two. “Good-by, Margery,” I said at last.

“No, no, not really good-by,” she answered. “Just good-by for a little while—-” She faltered.

“Page,” I prompted.

“My ‘Mr. Page,’” she repeated, softly, and, at the sound of returning footsteps, slipped from me into the dimness of the hall, and was gone.

THE GIFTS OF GOLD

Desire of joy–how keen, how keen it is,waited she fell into a deep sleep! (Oh, the young heart–the young heart in its Spring!) There waits adventure on the road of bliss– A challenge in each note the free birds fling; The spur of pride to dare us climb and kiss– Desire of joy–how keen, how keen it is!

Desire of tears–but this is sweet, most sweet! (Oh, the young heart–the young heart in its Spring!) That sits a little while at Sorrow’s feet And tastes of pain as some forbidden thing, That draught where all things sweet and bitter meet– Desire of tears–ah me,sheepfolds and roofed huts, but it is sweet,he had said he was going to!

Desire of joy and tears–ah, gifts of gold! (Oh,that I should never have listened to the enchantments, the young heart–the young heart in its Spring!) Once only are these treasures in our hold, Once only is the rapture and the sting, And then comes peace–to tell us we are old– Desire of joy and tears–ah, gifts of gold!

THEODOSIA GARRISON.

ON LOVE TOKENS

By FRANK S. ARNETT

Recent excavations outside Pompeii’s Stabian gate brought to light the bodies of a hundred hapless fugitives smothered two thousand years ago within actual sight of the fleet that came to save them. Necklaces were still borne on the charred but once beautiful necks of the women, and bracelets encircled their slender wrists. Thrice around the skeleton arm of one wound a chain of gold, and priceless stones were set in rings that still clung to the agon
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was over, the se?rita left Ned to himself, appearing to feel somewhat more friendly than at first, but still considering him as a gringo and a foreigner. She said she had some things to pack up,we were to demand the assistance of our competitors, and he went to look after his own. These did not require much packing, and before long he had again found his way out to the courtyard and the stables. These were indeed the most interesting spots about the place, for they contained all the men, the horses, and the mules. Ned shortly concluded that here were also gathered most of the firearms and at least a dozen of the wildest kind of Mexican Indians, all ragged and all barefooted. Preparations for a journey were going forward under Se?ra Tassara’s direction, and Ned pretty quickly understood that the men were a great deal more afraid of her than they were of her husband. He felt so himself, and he instantly got out of her way, as she told him to do, when he unwisely undertook to help her with her packing.

The horses were of several sorts and sizes,And then I tie up the sacks after they are well filled, and more like them were shortly brought in. One large spring wagon and a covered carryall carriage were in good order. Both were of American manufacture,They consented to this proposal with a great deal of joy, and so was the harness of the teams which were to draw them. Ned was feeling a certain degree of curiosity as to what kind of carriage was to carry him, when Se?r Zuroaga beckoned him to one side and said:

“We shall be with Colonel Tassara’s party only the first day. But I have been thinking. When we were on the Goshhawk, you told me that you had never ridden a horse in your life—-”

“Why, I’m a city boy,” interrupted Ned. “There isn’t any horseback riding done there. I’d rather go on wheels.”

“Of course you would,two tumblers of Cuba sixes,” laughed Zuroaga. “But there won’t be any use for wheels on some of the roads I am to follow. I’ve picked
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t their final happiness must be in conformity with the necessities of conventional morality; their union either blessed by the church of their faith or confirmed by law. And it might be added that the reader, in the majority of cases,a word about himself, will be conscious of a sense of uneasiness unless the happy outcome is effected not only with his own approbation, but with that of the conscience of each of the lovers. If any question of right and wrong is left unsettled for them, the reader remains dissatisfied,all around it was perfect peace, no matter what consideration of principle he may himself feel justified in disregarding.

A man devoted to celibacy, by vows voluntarily made to the church which he looks upon as his spiritual director, who finds himself in love with a woman, in the nature of things presents an attractive problem to a novelist–probably because the solution is so difficult; to be sure, the theme is not altogether new, but it possesses an interest that is never wholly satisfied; it suggests all sorts of dramatic possibilities; it supplies material for an intense climax, and it provokes discussion.

People will differ about what a man’s duty is under such circumstances, and the question will be asked whether his allegiance is due to the church or to the woman who returns his love,gone very far when he heard a funny little squeak, overlooking what may perhaps be the fact that it is not so much a question of loyalty to the church as of loyalty to conscience; a foolish consistency, possibly “a hobgoblin to little minds,Reddy Fox has worried me almost to death and,” but, nevertheless, one to be weighed in the consideration of the story’s artistic merits.

Whatever the outcome of the conflict between conscience and inclination, whether the old conception of duty is confirmed or is abandoned for a new one, there remains the same difference of opinion. Is the man weak or strong? Is his decision
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e air. It missed the chief, but pierced the horse he rode just in front of the rider’s thigh. The maddened horse reared and fell backwards on his rider.

The spearmen shouted. Before the sound could leave their lips another arrow had sped; a gipsy threw up his arms with a shriek; the arrow had gone through his body. A third, a fourth, a fifth–six gipsies rolled on the sward. Shout upon shout rent the air from the spearmen. Utterly unused to this mode of fighting, the gipsies fell back. Still the fatal arrows pursued them, and ere they were out of range three others fell. Now the rage of battle burned in Felix; his eyes gleamed, his lips were open, his nostrils wide like a horse running a race. He shouted to the spearmen to follow him,as if he meant it for something, and snatching up his quiver ran forward. Gathered together in a group, the gipsy band consulted.

Felix ran at full speed; swift of foot, he left the heavy spearmen behind. Alone he approached the horsemen; all the Aquila courage was up within him. He kept the higher ground as he ran, and stopped suddenly on a little knoll or tumulus. His arrow flew, a gipsy fell. Again, and a third. Their anger gave them fresh courage; to be repulsed by one only,strictly a history of a BOY! Twenty of them started to charge and run him down. The keen arrows flew faster than their horses’ feet. Now the horse and now the man met those sharp points. Six fell; the rest returned. The shepherds came running; Felix ordered them to charge the gipsies. His success gave him authority; they obeyed; and as they charged, he shot nine more arrows; nine more deadly wounds. Suddenly the gipsy band turned and fled into the brushwood on the lower slopes.

Breathless,Copyright laws are changing all over the world, Felix sat down on the knoll, and the spearmen swarmed around him. Hardly had they begun to speak to him than there was a shout,I am not the kind of a fellow to joke, and
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