JUNE 4 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
351 
miss the cabman, and obtain her ticket without 
attracting any attention, while a porter, a little 
struck with her appearance and manner, allowed 
her to go on the platform, and found h«r a seat 
In a carriage before the other travelers, who were 
few in number, were freed from their “ durance 
vile ” in the waiting-room. 
Very Impatiently Cora waited for the time to 
pass, and it, was a real relief when she saw the 
waiting-room doors opened, and heard the guard 
summoning the travelers for " Amiens and Bou¬ 
logne.” SUe leant back In her carriage, hoping 
to be left alone, but as sbe did so sbe fancied she 
recognized a likeness to Marks In the appearance 
of a man upon the platform, but the Idea only 
made her shrink further back. 
The whistle sounded and they were off, when 
the door of the carriage she was In was rapidly 
opened, and, even as the train moved away, a 
traveler Bprang In and took hla seat, while the 
porter, whom Cora recognized as the one who 
had found her a seat, dosed the door, and turned 
the handle securely. 
CHAPTER XX. 
A Terrible Journey. 
For some minutes Cora did not even turn her 
head or glance at her follow-traveler; but when 
she did so, she could distinguish nothing except 
that he was muffled up, and wore a slouched hat, 
which, If It were a precautionary measure, was 
a very effectual one. Occupied with her own 
sad thoughts, Lady Vincent soon forgot his pres¬ 
ence, and thought no more of him. Now that 
she had leisure to reflect over her hasty action, 
she could realize how unwise she had been, how 
Imprudent. She was In the power of an inferior, 
and she reared an unscrupulous man: and she 
felt very bitterly towards her husband when the 
thought obtruded Itself that ho had placed that 
man there to spy her. Lord Almane occupied 
her but little, all her thought was given to Sir 
Alan; and the one wish present with her, as they 
sped onwards, was to see him again, and Justify 
herself, If she could, In his eyes. As they went 
on, as she felt herself every moment approach¬ 
ing him, and pictured the meeting, all the bitter- 
dess and pride faded, and sadder, softer thoughts 
came: thoughts of the wedded happiness and 
peace which had been hers so long—thoughts of 
her husband's tenderness and goodness, and of 
their child—tUelr bright, beautiful boy—whom 
she would soon see again. Sir Alan’s harshness, 
and the constraint of the past tew weeks, were 
all forgotten; she remembered nothing but hts 
love, his consideration. He must have loved 
her—he could not have feigned such devotion; 
and when this gulf which seemed to have opened 
beneath their feet had closed agalu, he would 
love her still. Cura’s tears flowed fast as she 
bowed her head upon her hands, and her agita¬ 
tion shook her delicate frame with hysterical 
violence. « 
Suddenly she felt her hands removed from her 
face, and, looking up, she saw Lord Almane’s 
hand some oounteo anoe, full of passion and eager¬ 
ness, bending over her. 
“ My own darling, devoted love,'’ he murmured, 
passionately. “How can 1 thank you? Cora, 
trust me, you shall never repent this step.” 
And he drew her to hla breast, and tried to 
press his lips to the quivering lips and tear- 
stained cheeks; but with a tierce strength Cora 
threw him off, and recoiled Indignantly. 
“ What!” he said, gently. “ 81111 coy—still un¬ 
kind ! Nay, Cora, after such a proof of love as 
you have given me, you can no longer feign In¬ 
difference. It wero absurd to do so.” 
“This persistence Is unmanly, Lord Almane,” 
said Cora, through her sobs. “ How dare you 
persecute me thus ?’’ • 
But even as she spoke a sense of her own help¬ 
lessness struck her with terror, and she tried 
vainly to suppress any signs of agitation. 
The Viscount smiled. 
“ If you had not written to me, Cora,” he said, 
quietly, “I should begin to imagine that my 
presence was distasteful to you ; as It Is, my dar- 
llDg, I can understand your agitation. It Is but 
natural; but you must not carry It to such an ex¬ 
cess, love, or you will be 111.’’ 
His quiet tone and manner transfixed his hearer 
with astonishment. 
“ Written to you,” Bhe repeated, haughtily. 
“You are under a strange delusion, Lord Al¬ 
mane.” 
“ A warrantable one under the circumstances, 
my child. Is not this your writing?” 
And ho hold up to her view a little note, folded 
and addressed to •' Lord Almane." 
“ Yes," said Cora, at once. 
“And this?” 
As he spoko ho unfolded the note. It was writ¬ 
ten on paper willed bore her monogram, and at 
the first glance she thought the handwriting 
hers; the second undeceived her. 
“ I did not write that,” she said, disdainfully. 
“ The writing is youre, Cora 1” 
“ It Is an excellent Imitation. Your forgers are 
clever, Lord Almane." 
“My forgers!” he said. “What folly la this? 
On my honor this note was brought to mo by 
your servant, it Is In your writing. Iu obedience 
to Its request I am here—here at your foeL-your 
willing slave, dearest! Do not trifle with me, 
Cora." 
“ Lord Almane,” said Cora, suppressing her 
emotion by a strong effort, “ you are the victim 
of some strange plot. On my honor—on my life— 
1 never wrote that note I" 
The Vlscouut hesitated unwillingly, and yet 
was forced to believe hor. But he would not 
easily give up the prize he had been so sure of 
winning. 
“It I am the victim of a plot, we suiter to¬ 
gether," he said, quietly. “ Do you remember 
what 1 told you this afternoon? that Sir Alan 
Vincent would gladly be free from the chains that 
bind him to you ?” 
“Yes,” she answered, breathlessly, lifting her 
eyes to his in expectation, as he sat opposite to 
her. 
And the train flew on rapidly through the still 
country. 
“He is taking his measures accordingly,” he 
went on. “ Do you know that such a thing exists 
as a Divorce Court, Lady Cora, and that your hus¬ 
band has sufficient evidence against you to win 
his cause In one ?” 
“I do not understand you,” she answered, 
faintly, as she sank back upon the cushions. 
“It is not my forgers who are clever, Cora,” 
rejoined the Viscount. “They are his—your 
husband’s I 1 told you ho had hts spy. There Is 
a diabolical plot against you my poor child; but 
If you will trust me, I will do ray best to save you.” 
Cora was powerless to speak, as he rapidly 
told her that Sir Alau was getting up a chain of 
evidence against her, In order to obtain a divorce. 
At first, this unhappy woman refused to credit 
him; but he brought proof upon proof in favor 
of his words, and, unable to cope with his prac¬ 
tised eloquence and persuasion, poor Cora sank 
shivering and cowering into her corner, praylDg 
for death. 
And then, when he had, as he hoped, destroyed 
all her confidence In, and love for Sir Alan, the 
Viscount pleaded his own cause with an Impas¬ 
sioned eloquence worthy of better things. He 
dwelt upon his long existing love for her, the 
suffering he had endured, the protection his love 
would be to her In the future, when she would be 
deserted by all; but most of all he dwelt on the 
fact that Sir Alan had left her alone In Paris, 
knowing that he, Lord Almane, was there. 
“ He cannot but see bow dearly I hold you.” 
he concluded. “ Do you not see that he Is will¬ 
ing—that he wishes to be rid of you 7" 
Cora had let him plead without Interruption. 
She knew that sho was In his power for the pres¬ 
ent ; but her whole soul revolted against the man 
who could take such a base advantage of her 
helplessness and trouble. She covered her face 
with her hands, with a awllt prayer to Heaven 
for help and direction In her hour of need. 
The Viscount thought that he had triumphed 
—that she was yielding; and he loved her well 
enough to rejoice, as well os to exult In his vic¬ 
tory. 
“ Do you remember telling me once, long ago, 
that you wished my happiness above all earthly 
things, Cora ? and you can make me so happy. 
You will come with me, love, will you not? 
A nd we shall be so happy, my beloved! My whole 
life shall be devoted to your happiness, and to 
the welfare of tny honored wife!” 
Cora moved her hands from her face, and lifted 
her eyes to his, and that one glance, so lull of re¬ 
pugnance and horror, showed the viscount that 
he was reckoning without his host. 
He stooped over her, and tried to encircle her 
with his arras; but she recoiled. 
"Walt one minute,” she said, feebly—“one 
moment yet. You say that I will be your hon¬ 
ored wife. Lord Almane; but that would be Im¬ 
possible. The step you urge would deprive me 
of all claims, not only to your respect, but to my 
own. Do you think I could be happy, even If I 
loved you, knowlDg that I was disgraced in the 
eyes of all mankind ? but I do not love you. I 
loat.be—I despise you as I would any man who 
would so basely betray a weak woman! If my 
husband believes In my guilt I must submit to 
bear the punishment; But at least,”—she rose up 
proudly, her slight form swaying to and fro, her 
eye3 flashing—" 1 shall have the consolation of 
knowing my innocence!” 
Again he drew near to her with tender words 
and gestures, but with a fierce strength she 
threw him off, by look and word expressing her 
detestation or his unscrupulous passion. It was 
an unequal struggle, for Cora was ralnt and ex¬ 
hausted, hut he saw that she was in earnest, and 
ho desisted. 
"You will repent this," he said, fiercely; “you 
will repent having cast away the only love which 
Is loft you, and the day may come when you will 
crave for It and when it will be denied to you. 
Cling to the husband who scorns you, and my re¬ 
venge will be ample, knowing that If you love 
him that love will be your greatest curse." 
" Ah, Heaven, have pity, moaned Cora, as her 
fictitious strength deserted her, and once again 
she sank back upon the cushions and looked out 
on to the dark night with despairing aDgulsh. 
Was there no help for her, no respite from the 
taunting words which were lacerating her tender 
heart? 
Suddenly, surely she was not mistaken, the 
speed seemed to slacken; they were stopping. 
Her heart almost stood still as she rose In breath¬ 
less expectation; lights appeared then; they 
were entering a statlou, and with a sob of relief 
and a passionate "Thank Heaven 1” Cora realized 
that they had reached Amiens. 
" Amiens, Amiens; twenty minutes stoppage,” 
shouted the porters as they ran along the station 
and opened the carriage doors. “Twenty min¬ 
utes here.” 
"Cora, whai are you going to do?” said Lord 
Almane, as he saw her rise and prepare to 
alight, although she seemed hardly able to sup¬ 
port herself, and was trembling from head to 
foot. 
She did Dot heed the question, but passed him 
and got out. The viscount followed her as she 
went on with faltering steps, and camo to her 
side. 
“ Cora, let me help you; you are ill," he ex¬ 
claimed, touched In spite of himself by the hag¬ 
gard misery and exhaustion visible on her face. 
But she pressed on unheeding. 
Just as they drew near the waiting-room a 
gentleman appeared from within, and came 
slowly towards them, his face deadly white, and 
bearing an expression of anger terrible to read. 
One glince told the viscount who he was and 
he drew back momentarily with a smothered ex¬ 
clamation, at which Cora lifted her eyes. As she 
did so she uttered a cry, a wall of angui&h, which 
rang through the statton, thrilling all who heard 
It with Its terrible woe, and fell forward Insensi¬ 
ble at her husband’s feet.—[To bo continued. 
-« » » 
RECENT LITERATURE. 
Science Primers. Edited by Professors Huxley, 
Rosook and Balfour Stewart. 12mo.—Illustra¬ 
ted. New York ■. D. Appleton & Co. 50 ets. each. 
It was a happy thought that led to the publica¬ 
tion of these Science Primers. Tho series con¬ 
sists of an Introductory volume followed by 
Chemistry, Physics, Physical Geography, Ge¬ 
ology, Pliystolgy, Astronomy, Botany, Logic, 
Plano PlaylDg and Inventive Geometry. Each 
volume contains from 125 to 150 pages, and when 
necessary to the proper understanding of the 
text, is fully Illustrated. Tha style Is plain and 
concise, adapted to the understanding of youth, 
but none tbe less Interesting and instructive to 
older people. The subjects are treated by differ¬ 
ent authors who aim in few words to Bet forth the 
principles thereof, and It is astonishing to see 
how much of the groundwork of each science Is 
presented. One who reads these primers thor¬ 
oughly, will obtain sufficient knowledge to enable 
him to understand the general principles, at least, 
of the subjects on which they treat. It la not to 
tau expected all details can be comprised within 
the compass of volumes of the size of these; but 
the reader will gain from them sufficient Instruc¬ 
tion to enable him to read more Intelligently all 
matters bearing on the subjects of whloh they 
treat. To thope who have been familiar with the 
sciences in their school-days, these books will 
servo to refresh the memory and awaken Interest. 
We have no doubt many, after giving them ex¬ 
amination, will feel as we do, that we wonld not 
give them up were their cost much greater than 
It is. Each volume can be had separately. 
.- « « ♦ - 
MAGAZINE NOTES. 
The leading contributors to the June number 
of Sunday Afternoon are E. E. Hale, S. G. W. Ben¬ 
jamin, c. F. Thwlog, -Josephine K. Baker, Rebecca 
H. Davis, Susan Coolldge and Rose Terry Cooke. 
The articles continue to be varied and attractive, 
and readers miss an Intellectual treat of the best 
kind if they do not hasten to secure a snug nook 
in the place “ where It Is always afternoon.” 
Arthur G. Sedgwick contributes the most 
thoughtful and Important paper to the June At¬ 
lantic. “ Unforeseen Results of the Alabama Dis¬ 
pute ” are results that it should have behooved our 
legislators to have foreseen. “Detmold” Is con¬ 
cluded, and Warner continues to verify the Adlron- 
dacks. The Contributors’ Club is vigorous In this 
number—a great many speaking at once. 
Volume XL11 commences with the July number 
—a good lime to subscribe. 
St. Nicholas Is charming. Miss Alcott’s story, 
“Under tne Lilacs,” the funny “ Master Monte¬ 
zuma,” “ How to Make a Telephone,” “ Dab Kln- 
zer,” “ Jack-ln-the-Pulplt” and the “Rldcffe Box” 
will entertain every one until the July issue makes 
Its bow. 
The leading article la Scribner, June number, Is 
an appreciative one by Russell Sturges ou George 
Crulk3bank, with good copies of his most spirited 
etchings. “Bird Architecture" la handsomely 
Illustrated, and W. J. Linton takes up the cudgel 
in behalf of engraving as a line art. The poetry 
Is good. Dr. Holland certainly knows how to 
make a magazine, and Is creating a st andard that 
other illustrated magazines must conform to, or 
be left behind tn the race. 
The American Naturalist for June contains 
“A Lesson la Comparative Histology" (with plate 
2), Cuas. Sedgwick Minot; '• Rambles Around San 
Francisco,” W. N. Loeklngton; “ Phosphorescent 
insects, their Metamorphoses,” Mrs. v. o. King; 
“On the Genealogy of Plants,” Lester F. Ward, 
A. M.; “The Mode of Extraction of Silkworm 
Moths from their Cocoons,” A. S, Packard, Jr.; 
and general notes on Botany, Zoology, Anthro¬ 
pology, Geology, Paleontology, Geography, Trav¬ 
els and Microscopy, beside scientific news and re¬ 
views of recent literature. A glance at such a 
table of contents must prove very tempting to 
any one who Is interested tn any branch of 
science. 
Littkll's Living Age, published by Llttell & 
Gay, Bostou, Is a continuous feast of good things. 
A year's reading of the admirable selections which 
appear In it from week to week, is equivalent to a 
moderately liberal education. The last number 
(May 25) contains a review of Lecky’s History of 
England tn the 18th Century, an Installment of 
Maoleod of Dare, From the Q,ulrinal to the Vati¬ 
can, The Comet, The Apollo Belvidere, Clonossa, 
Retrospective Sympathy, and two poetical selec¬ 
tions. Peculiar, indeed, must be literary taste 
whloh cannot find something to Its lllUDg among 
such a number of articles. 
The Domestic Monthly.— Fashion has a thor¬ 
ough and reliable exponent In the popular Do¬ 
mestic Monthly. The June number devotes 
twenty of Its large pages to the considerations of 
Fashion, which are divided up tuco a comprehen¬ 
sive review of fashion, giving full Information 
concerning prevailing and forthcoming uoveltles 
in all its departments, and articles (nearly all 
Illustrated) on Seasonable Fabrics, Trimmings, 
Summer Wraps, Children’s Fashions, Novelties in 
Ladles' Uuder-clotlilng, Millinery, Coiffures, Lin¬ 
gerie, “Domestic Art,"—fancy and needle work, 
decoration, etc. 
Tne literary contents are: an Installment of 
Mary Cecil Hay's charming serial, “Her Three 
Lovers," poems by “ Dorr,” Fanny Cllpsham and 
others, several very entertaining short stories, an 
Interesting paper on “ Lace,” and No. 9 In Ebeu 
E. Rexford's Instructive series of “ Flower Talks.” 
The Miscellany, SmalL Talk, Household Depaic- 
rnents, Critiques of New Books, Mosaics, etc., 
offer a great deal of entertaining and Instructive 
reading. 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
Mr. Dusenbebry’s daughter 
Plays '• Baytoven’s Moonlight Snorter,” 
While the world Rile all enraptured I 
And the noodleheads are captured 
By the dignity and ease 
With wbioh she ballywhacka the keys; 
And she wanders all the while. 
Through andante eantabfle. 
Vivace and allegro. 
Forte, pianissimo. 
Staccato, fugue, roulade. 
Scherzo, tempi, crescendo. 
Diminuendo, faro, keno, 
Bostenuto, claro. maduro, 
Oscuro, Colorado, bureau. 
Con moto, con. expressions, 
Con undrum, mezzo, adagio, 
Con durango, con etipatione. 
Con o’hardin and con maguire. 
Gracious hevinge l What’s the wonder 
We are startled by such thunder ? 
Foolish, silly maid, you oughter 
Lay aside that “ Moonlight Snorter 
Let it climb the golden stair. 
Give us rather “Maiden's Prayer.” 
“ Swanny River,” ’* Hazel Dell,” 
Or the Monastery Bell,” 
Puff, fair idiot, down your vest— 
Give the " Snorter ” kind a rest. 
IN. F. Post. 
One Hundred Years Ago.— One hundred years 
ago not a pound of coal, not a cubic foot of Illu¬ 
minating gas had been burned in this country. 
No iron stoves were used, and no contrivance 
economizing heat employed until Dr. Franklin in¬ 
vented the iron-framed fire-place, which still 
bears his name. All the cooking and warmtog in 
town and country were done by tbe aid of fire 
kindled In the brick oven or on the hearth. Fine 
knots or tallow candles furnished the light for 
the long winter nights, and sanded floors supplied 
the placed rugs and carpets. The water used 
for household purpose was drawn from deep 
wells by the creaking sweep. No form of pump 
was used In this country, so far as we can learn, 
until after the commencement of th8 present 
century. There were no friction matches In those 
early days, by the aid of which fire could be easily 
kindled; and If the fire went out upon the hearth 
over night, and the tinder was damp, so that 
sparks would not catch, the alternative was pre¬ 
sented of wandering through the snow a mile or 
so to borrow of a neighbor. Only one room In 
any house was warm, unless some of the family 
were 111. In all the rest the temperature was 
at zero many nights In the winter. 
ADOON THE LANK. 
Upon arm stormy Sunday, 
Coming adoon the lane. 
Were a score Of bounie lasses— 
And the sweetest I maintain. 
Was Caddie. 
That I took beneath my plaidie. 
To shield her frae the rain, 
She Baicl the daisies blushed 
For the kiss that 1 had ta’en; 
I wad cm bae thought the lassie 
Wad sae of a kiss complain. 
“ Now, laddie 1 
I wadna Btay under your plaidie. 
If I gang hama in the rain P’ 
But on one after Sunday, 
When cloud there was not ane, 
This self-same winsome lassie— 
We chanced to meet in the lane— 
Said Caddie, 
“ Why dinna ye wear your plaidie ? 
Who kens but it may rain ?" 
NAUTICAL CATECHISM. 
If a ship misses her stays, how do you find in 
what direction her course sets ? 
Will the ship heel over If you tow her out ? 
How many horses does the captain drive In hla 
gig? 
Did the man who took hla trick at the wheel do 
It with the right bower ? 
Can you get a " night-cap” at the cap-stan bar z 
When the boatswain pipes all hands who fur¬ 
nishes the tobacco ? 
How many knots are In the ship’s log 7 
Is the ship’s screw drawn by a screw-driver ? 
Is the keel son any relation to the cabin boy ? 
Did you ever spin the main top ? 
If the captain snores ought it to be set down aa 
a head-wind? 
When the ship’s rope3 aie all taut Is It any evi¬ 
dence that a schoolmaster is on board ? 
Does the captain get hla wine out of the port 
holes ? 
Is there any way of making the cross-trees 
good-natured ? 
Is the yard arm over three feet In length ? 
Do you know how to wind up the larboard 
watch ? _ 
MX. WHITTIER AND THE JAB OF BUTTER. 
Some years ago a lady residing at Pond Hills, a 
little hamlet near the home of the bachelor poet 
J, G. Whittier, presented him with a jar of butter, 
for which he returned the following characteristic 
expression of thanks: 
“ Words butter no parsnips,” the old ad ago says. 
And to fill up the trencher is better than praise. 
8 o, trust mo, dear friend, that, while eating thy butter, 
The thanks that I feel are far more than I utter. 
Kind Providence grant thee a life without ills. 
May tho cows never dry up that feed ou Pond Hills, 
May the cream never fail in thy cellar so cold. 
Nor thy baud lose its cunning to change it to gold! 
Thrice welcome !o him who, unblest with a wife. 
Bits and bungles alone at the ripped seams of life. 
Is the womanly kindness which pities his fate. 
And sews on his buttons or fills up his plate t 
I wouldn’t give ten cents a yard for all the 
pedigree In thlg world; If a man hez got a level 
head on hla shoulders, and an honest hart In hlz 
body, be hez got all tb© pedigree I am In se&roU 
ov,-jom timings, 
