622 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
SEPT. 28 
course would strengthen the belief prevailing In 
Europe tint TPr- ta ins made concessions be¬ 
cause she Is weak; besides which, the expense 
of a disarmament, to be perhaps even followed 
by a mobilization, would be greater than If the 
army remained on a war footing. 
MY COUSIN ‘ADELAIDE. 
“Mab, Mah, when'will you be, ready?” cried 
Nellie, bursting into my room one afternoon, at¬ 
tired for riding. 
“ Ready ? I am ready now.” I answered from 
my station before the looking-glass; and having 
given a finishing touch to the natty red bow at 
my collar, I cautht up my skirt In one band and 
my gloves In another, and ran do vn after her. 
Mamma was In the drawing-room with Sir 
Percy Barton, anl as we entered was asking him 
to return to dinner. 
“ I expect my niece. Miss Graham, to arrive 
while you arc out. We have not seen her for 
many years, but 1 hear that she Is exceedingly 
beautiful.” 
“Indeed!” he rejoined ; carelessly adding, “I 
shall be very pleased to accept your kind Invita¬ 
tion.” 
During the ride papa and Nellie kept together 
and Sir Percy maintained his usual position at 
my side. 
“ Idas Miss Graham come ?" I Inquired, as I dis¬ 
mounted, and ran up the stops into the hall. 
“Yes, miss,” answered solemn Beale; “she Is 
In her room now.” 
The dresdrig-bell had rung some time, soNel 
lie and I hastened away to array ourselves lu our 
simple muslins. 
My toilet was speedily completed, and I hur¬ 
ried off to make acquaintance with my cousin. 
“ Come lu,” said a musical voice, In response to 
my Impatient knock. 
An eager welcome was on mv Ups, but at sight 
of the face and form that moved slowly from the 
dressing-table, rny previous Ideas of a good hug 
and a hearty kiss suddenly vanished, and Instead 
I stammered out ft few words of poUto common¬ 
place greet! ng. 
No wonder that I was amazed and bewildered 
at first bcholdiQg Adelaide Graham. A figure 
faultless lu Us proportions and undulating 
curves; a face without one blemishing feature to 
mar Its perfection, and hair like threads of living 
gold, arranged la a rashion unique, but marvel¬ 
lously becoming. Such was the lout ensemble of 
my lovely cousin; and as 1 blundered through a 
few questions relative to her journey and fatigue, 
a pang shot through me at the contrast or my own 
plain appearance and the surpassing attractive¬ 
ness or the fair vision before me—a vision radiant 
Id sea-green shk and ornaments or pearls. 
It was with a quickly-repressed and almost lm- 
perceptable start of surprised admiration that 
Sir Percy bowed In acknowledgment of mamma’s 
brief introduction, lor even as Adelaide, stately 
and self-possessed, swept Into the drawing-room 
the gong sounded. 
After dinner, while the gentlemen lingered 
over their wine, she amused us by an account of 
a visit to Egypt, from which country she had but 
lately returned. 
“ Your descriptive powers are worthy of their 
grand subject,” observed Sir Percy, who had 
joined us uupercelvadia Lhe twilight, as Adelaide 
paused. “ I can pay you no higher compliment, 
Miss Graham.” 
“ And I desire none,” she returned, slightly 
moving her dress, so as to leave vacant a place 
on the lounge, “ You hare been In Africa, 
then ?” 
“Yes,” he replied, seating himself. “It Is the 
correct thing, Is It not, now-a-days, to extend 
one’s travels beyond the Continent ?" 
“ I should not have Imagined you so rigidly 
obedient no the decrees of society as to travel 
merely for the sake or being In the fashion.” 
•> should you not ? But, 1 did not say that that 
was my reason for going. I only remarked, I think 
that It was proper to do so.” 
Both possessed quick, ready wit, and the gay 
ball of badinage was tossed inarrliy from one to 
the other. 
Unnoticed I stole away to the piano, and began 
softly playing over some old-fashioned airs. 
Presently there was a rustle of silken garments, 
and two Jewelled hands fell Ugutly on my shoul¬ 
ders, and turning, I saw my cousin standing be¬ 
hind me. 
Instantly I sprang up. 
“ No, no ; go on, dear.” 
“ I don’t care to play any more. Will you sing 
now, please ? You do smg, I know.” 
She hesitated; but Sir Percy joining his en¬ 
treaties io mine, with a half-smile she sat down. 
Dei- ninzer a touched the keys Ungerlogly In the 
minor chords of a short prelude, then there burst 
forth a very flood of sweet sounds, and the air 
seemed instinct with the subtle power of a won¬ 
drous melody. Looking out on to the moonlit gar¬ 
den, I tffcmbiedat the fantastic visions my ex¬ 
cited imagination conjured up as the wild, weird 
harmony rose and fell on the breathless silliness 
of the room. 
“Are you cold?” whispered Hlr Percy, coming 
to my side. 
“No," I answered, for it seemed almost a pro¬ 
fanation to speak. 
He said nothing further, only stood by me 
quietly listening till the player rose. 
He thanked her with evident pleasure, and 
they were soon engrossed in an animated dis¬ 
cussion as to the relative merits of various musi¬ 
cal celebrities. 
My first act when I reached my chamber that 
night was to walk up t.a the long mirror and take 
a deliberate survey of tnyseit therein. 
The result was not altogether satisfactory. 
“ A small figure, dark hair and eyes, a brown 
skin, and Shapely hands and feet. . That’s about a 
truthful Inventory of my personal possessions,’ 
I ejaculated, with a sigh. 
The summer days passed on, but the Joy that 
had grown with the .Tune roses waned with the 
coming of the July lilies. The spell of enchant¬ 
ment that had rested on all the verdant, blos¬ 
soming earth was broken, the hours dragged by 
wearily and slowly. 
The reason of the change I did not, I would not 
own, even to myself. It was the sultry weather, 
I declared, when mamma commented on my pale 
cheeks, and this same assurance I applied as a 
salve to my own aching heart and wounded pride, 
reiterating It afresh every time I saw sir Percy’s 
tawny moustache and Adelaide's blonde head In 
their frequent close proximity. 
When he addressed me I answered wdth easy 
unconcern; when lie looked at me, looked back 
with unflinching steadfastness, smiled with never 
a twitch or tremble, and responded with frosty 
coldness when he endeavored to engage me In 
arguments which had made me burn with ex¬ 
cited Interest only a month before. 
“ Miss Mabel, I think you said you wished to 
read this book. Will you honor me by accepting 
It?" 
Adelaide, papa, and I were going to visit some 
place of note In the neighborhood that Adelaide 
wanted to see, and Sir Percy had asked to bo of 
the party. 
I was watting alone In the dining-room while 
the horses were being brought round. 
“Thanks. You are very kind. What Is It?” I 
Inquired, nonchalantly, languidly holding out my 
hand. 
“Tennyson’s ' King Harold.' I understood you 
to say that you were anxious to see It.” 
“ Did I ? I really forget," 
“ I ordered It some time back, but there was a 
delay In getting It from London.” 
“I am sorry you took so much trouble. It Is 
really very kind of you,” and I carelessly laid the 
neatly tled-up package on a side-table without 
even attempting to open It, though I remembered 
well enough the enthusiastic desire I had ex¬ 
pressed to read the work. 
“Trouble! Klud!” he echoed with an Impa¬ 
tient gesture. “ Surely you must know ”- 
“ Men were deceiver® ever, 
One foot on sea and one on shore, 
To one thing constant never." 
sang a clear contralto voice, and the next. Instant 
Adelaide entered the room, smiling and radlaDt. 
Our way lay between fields or ripening corn, 
past orchards in which the fruit was already be¬ 
ginning to blush beneath the sun’s amorous 
kisses, and through a wood where the springy 
moss formed a pleasant contrast to the blinding 
dust of the high-road. 
“Is It settled between them yet, do you know, 
my dear?” asked papa, who had been my com¬ 
panion from the commencement, of the ride. 
“ is what settled?” I Inquired, not understand¬ 
ing the moaning of ills question. 
Ills answer was a sagacious nod In the direction 
of the couple la front, whose constant laughter 
showed they were proving each other good com¬ 
pany. 
“Oh!" 1 replied; “ 1 have not heard.” 
My horse slipped on the moist sward, essayed 
to recover himself, and slipped again. The reias 
were Jerked from my hands, and I was only con¬ 
scious of a terrible sensation of falling, and of a 
sudden stinging pain. 
When I awoke from what appeared to me a 
long sleep, I found myself supported In 81r Percy’s 
arms, Adelaide bathing my face with water, and 
my father standing by, a look of helpless agony 
blanching his ruddy countenance. 
“ What has happened? Did I fall?” I stam¬ 
mered, attempting to stand. 
“Don’t move,” commanded Adelaide. “We 
have sent Dickson to the nearest village for a 
conveyance, and he will be back directly. Here 
he comes too. Good Dickson!” 
As soon as we reached home, In spite of my 
assertion that beyond a little headache and gid¬ 
diness I was none the worse for the accident, 
mamma Insisted on my at once retiring to my 
room, and with her own hands undressed me, 
forbidding me even to get up again. Dinner and 
a cup of fragrant hot tea being sent up to me. 
At night, she had scarcely left me, with the 
last injunction to remain tubed the following 
morning till after breakfast, when the door was 
noiselessly opened and Adelaide appeared. Her 
bright fleecy hair was unbound, and fell In a 
silken shower to her waist, and she looked as 
beautiful la her deshabille and dressing-gown as 
ever she had done In the full luster of a ball¬ 
room. 
“ Mabel, I want a tew minutes’ quiet talk with 
you,” she said, sealing herself. 
“ What Is It?” I faintly demanded, wondering 
whether I was to he made the recipient ot any 
sentimental confidences on the subject to which 
papa had alluded In the morning. 
“ Afhy, I want to know what you mean by 
treating Sir Percy so badly ?” 
“Treating Sir Percy badly l” I echoed, In open- 
eyed astonishment. 
“Yes,” she rejoined, decisively, “treating Sir 
Percy badly. What do you mean by it, you 
naughty, cruot ohlld ?” 
“Really I do not understand you," I rejoined, 
pride coming to my aid, and helping mo to hide 
any further signs of surprise. 
“Do you not? Then I will speak more plain¬ 
ly. Why are you so cold and disagreeable to 
him?” 
Well, to be sure, this was too much. Did she 
think that because he was her admirer I was to 
treat him. with fervid empressemenl. I turned 
my head on the pillow, and vouchsafed no reply. 
Bhe rose and bent over me. 
“ Chene," she said, laying her fingers caressing¬ 
ly on iiy head, “did you think that there was 
anything between usv That ho and I liked each 
other?” 
" Yen,” I faltered. 
“My poor little coz, 1 was afiaid that was It, 
But you are quite wrong, dear. I could whis¬ 
per a verj r different story, but I doubt not ho 
would prefer telling It hlmseir. What, crying? 
Why what would aunt say if she knew? How 
she would scold mo for exciting you; and 1 
thought I would set your mistaken little mine! at 
rest.” 
“ So you have,” I sobbed, throwing ray arms 
round her neck; “ only I am weak and foolish." 
The next day I yielded a meek obedience to 
mamma's wishes, and allowed myself to be treat¬ 
ed aH an invalid till dinner-time. Then I affirmed 
my perfect convalescence, and my intention of 
spendlngthe evening downstairs. 
Accordingly, donning my simplest dress, and 
twisting my hair Into one large, loose coil, I de¬ 
scended to the drawing-room. There I had scarce¬ 
ly finished declining my mother's offers of pil¬ 
lows. and cushions, and hassocks, when Sir Percy, 
who had conie over to Inquire, after me, and had 
stayed to dinner, camo Into the room. 
“I am glad to see that you are quite re¬ 
covered,” he said, approaching the window where 
I sat. 
“Thank you.” 
“It is very nice out of doors; will you come for 
a stroll on tUe terrace?” 
Mamma was going to interpose an objection, 
but Adelaide hastily answered for me. 
“Certainly she wilt; It will do her good. Walt 
while J fetch a shawl.” 
In a moment she was back again with a wrap 
of her own, -which she dertly twisted round my 
shoulders. 
Wo walked the length of the terrace without 
speaking. When we reached the end I paused 
and leant against the stone balust rade over which 
clustered the purple-passion liowers. Above the 
shining stars gazed down with watchful light; 
the air was heavy with the rich perfume of the 
clematis; the trees swayed fitfully in the evening 
breeze, and lhe hum of countless insects sounded 
noisy and distinct In the sweet silence of the 
summer night. 
I turned at last, but with a quick movement 
my companion stayed me. 
“No, I cannot let you go till you have au- 
Bwered me a question." 
“ What, question ?” I summoned courage to ask, 
endeavoring to steady rny shaking voice. 
“My little Slab—my little love, can you not 
guess?” 
“ But—but I would rather be told,” I mui mured 
shyly. 
“Good folk3, do you kuow that you have been 
out more than half aa hour, and that aunt Is 
nearly frantic at the thought ot the Illness she 
is sure Mabel will have?" 
A strong hand closed round my trembling 
fingers. 
“ Miss Graham, allow me to present to you the 
future Lady Barton. 
“Sir Percy, allow me to offer you my sincere 
congratulations. Mab, dear, I will not Increase 
the natural conceit of mankind by supposing 
that you have any cause for felicitations.” 
“There Is but one way la which I can thank 
you tor your good wishes," retorted my lover; 
and before Adelaide could even guess a t his In¬ 
tention, he had stooped and kissed her cheeelr. 
With a blush and a laugh she threatened to 
defer her revenge till matrimony had properly 
subdued his sprit. 
I have been married JU3t two years, and am 
tbe proud mother of one bonny son whose 
strength ot limb, power of lung, and beauty of 
person, form an unfailing source of rejoicing 
t o his doting parents. 
Next mouth Barton court will bo on fete In 
honor of a visit from that brilliant leader of 
society, the universally admired Countess of 
Peltdal, who, in spite of her riches and title, Is, 
and always will be to me, simply dear Cousin 
Adelaide. f. o. 
- *■** - 
BOBTAIL JOE. 
CHKIS. AMMAN, JK. 
The subject of this sketch was a warhorse of 
the rebellion, Just when he entered the service 
is not known, but at the breaking out of the war 
he and Ids mate w ere already veterans In the ser¬ 
vice of Uncle $am. He was attached to Gibbons 
Battery, which was assigned to our brigade at the 
reorganization of t.hc army after tbe first Bull 
Run battle. Our acquaint a nee was more particu¬ 
larly with the battery, though in the drills of 
camp we were often brought in close proximity 
to the battery lu supporting It In a brigade charge 
ot the enemy. On these occasions we noticed the 
fire of those veteran battery horses, whose eyes 
flashed and nostrils diluted and qulvored from 
the excitement aroused by the quick changes of 
positions and the belching of the cannou In rapid 
succession to sustain a position or hew away the 
columns or the tbe advancing Imaginary enemy, 
usually some companion brigade of Infantry. 
At the second battle ot Bull Run this battery 
was called into some close work in holding Import¬ 
ant positions. On the last day it got in between 
a cross-fire and suffered a great loss In horses. 
Bob tail Joe on that day got his name by having 
his tall cut neatly off arid at the same time losing 
a part of his haunches, all being done la ooo fell 
swoop by a large pii-co of asllell, which had ex¬ 
plod'd over the battery and had caused death and 
destruction Irotn Its fragments. After withdraw¬ 
ing from position and taking up march for Wash¬ 
ington, the wound, d horse was allowed to wander 
at will, lie would hunt up grazing grounds, 
feed all day, but return regularly every evening 
for his oats, which lie partook of with his veteran 
mate, who carat* out . r the battle unscathed. 
The battery boys would •Viisti Ida wounds and the 
boys of tue brigade would show him every atten¬ 
tion until “Bobtail J«a-” became a hero of tho 
war, and was noticed In the letters which were 
written In camp to ihe.lulia at licme. There was 
Just lacking the power of speech to express his 
affection for the battery and brigade hoys, for In 
every other way Bohta.ll Joe evinced it, and for 
his mate, who had now a new companion on the 
caisson, he would show an attachment that was 
touching in Its tenderness and loyalty. 
After the army of the Potamac was put In 
shape, commenced the march to Intercept, Lee’s 
advance Into Maryland. At South Mountains 
the battle In the mountains fired up Joe’s war 
spirit; but he could not get up to the front, and 
all through the battle of Antletam he was not 
permitted to come near the field or action. His 
wounds were not healed, and belDg left to him¬ 
self on the march he was not chafed by the har¬ 
ness or Irritated by the heavy battery works. 
The fierce, sanguinary Battle of Antletam was 
over, and the many brigades and batteries bad 
gone Into camp. The dead and wounded were 
being looked after by squads detailed for that 
purpose. The work was being continued Into 
the night, which was lit up by a strong light 
horn the moon. Joe wandered over the fields 
listening for the bugler’s call, by which he could 
always find his battery, and in Ills perambula¬ 
tions came upon the very spot held by the bat¬ 
tery during the light. Squads were digging 
holes for the burial of the dead, but this was an 
old scene to the veteran horse. Perhaps he 
might have moved off unconcerned hut for a 
plaintive neigh from a wounded horse. Joe 
listened with ears pricked up. It came again 
feebly. He was now all excitement, and moving 
up to the prostrate animal, Joe recognized his 
veteran mate, badly' wounded and disabled for 
lurther service. The meeting was affecting and 
• the grave-diggers who witnessed the scene, and 
whoknewJoe and his battery, were moved to 
tears. Joe would put his head lovingly up to 
that of his mate and by sort neighs express his 
sorrow. It was not long when a couple of car¬ 
bineers camo along from patrol duty, and moved 
also by the piteous action of the wounded beast 
ended Its sufferings. For days after this Joe 
waDdered around expressing his sorrow by his 
Indifference to food and tho caressps of the bat¬ 
tery men. Do lost his wonted regularity and 
would be gone tor some days and would be seen 
lying in the shade of some tree. Indifferent to 
to the animation of the camps or the call of the 
bugle. When orders were at last received for 
renewal of the march to Richmond there was a 
stirring bustle In camp and the echoes were 
awakened by the shrill bugle and loud drum. 
Joe heard It and walked Into camp. To honor 
this extreme loyalty to duty, the captain of the 
battery honored Joe by using him as " the cap¬ 
tain’s horse.” Of course Joe felt deeply the 
honor of the position as he pranced at the head 
of the battery In the onward march, and though 
he had no tall to erect, he proudly arched Ills 
neelc and tossed his head In the full measure of 
his pride, and that ends this tale .—Detroit Free 
Press. 
--- 
THE LATE MEHEMET ALI. 
Mehemet Ali Pacha, whose assassination Is 
announced in the cable dispatches, was, says the 
New York World, the ablest of the Turkish gen¬ 
erals during the recent war. By birth he was a 
Prussian of French descent, his father being a 
staff trumpeter ot the Nicholas Regiment of Cui¬ 
rassiers of Brandenburg. Young Julius Detroy 
was placed lu a business house at Magdeburg. 
But he was of an imaginative disposition, and 
soon tiring of business routine he ran away to 
Rostock, where he found a Mecklenburg brig get¬ 
ting ready for sea. The captain took him on 
board In the capacity of a ship-boy, and after a 
long voyage, ot which young Detroy beoame 
beartily sick, tbe vessel anchored In the Bospho¬ 
rus. He had had enough of the sea, and watch¬ 
ing his opportunity he one day jumped overboard, 
and swam to a caique which was passing. Its 
occupant, who proved to be AH Pacha, afterwards 
so famous, and grand vizier for many years, order¬ 
ed the hoy to be taken In, and was so pleased 
with him on a further acquaintance that he took 
him under his protection and even Into his own 
family. Detroy, a year later, adopted t he Mussul¬ 
man religion and took the name of Mehemet A11. 
Uls patron sent him to a military school, where 
he distinguished himself by his Intelligence and 
good conduct. He received his commission In 
1653 and made the campaign of the Danube 
against the Russians. He was first under fire at 
SUlstrla, and it was said that he did not seem 
very courageous. It has been even alleged by 
enemies that at the beginning of the bombard¬ 
ment he sought shelter in a cellar. But he soon 
gave proofs of lutt'epldlty and even or daring, 
winning universal commendation. He once spent 
a whole night alone In a captured earthwork. 
Omar l’acha noticed the conduct of the youug 
officer and placed him on his staff, and In this 
capacity he went through the Russian war, and, 
later, the campaigns In Montenegro, Arabia and 
Bosnia. He beoame a colonel In 1963, and in 1865 
was made a pacha or general. He was employed 
with distinction during the Insurrection In Crete 
and again on the Montenegrin frontier. 
In 1873 he was given the chief command of the 
forces In Thessaly, In order to put an end to the 
excesses of the banditti, which had become Intol¬ 
erable. Mehemet All acquitted himself of this 
difficult task with great ability. Partly by arti¬ 
fice and partly by persuasion, by employing re- 
morselo.'s severity where “examples" were re¬ 
quired, by daring attacks and by skillful opera¬ 
tions In comblnai Ion wit h the Greek detachments 
assigned for frontier duly, he wai able In a short 
time to re-establish order In TUessaly. Toward 
the close of 1875 he was intrusted with the chief 
commaud at Novl-Bazar, a post ot great strategic 
lmportu ueo, and was atterwaids engaged in vari¬ 
ous military duties In connection with the opera¬ 
tions against the Servian Insurgents. 
At the outbreak of the recent war with Russia 
he was assigned to lhe command ot one of the 
armtesoperai log against the Montenegrins, Kulel- 
man Pacha being at the head of the other. These 
two officers pressed the heroic mountaineers 
