THE RURAL 
NEW-YORKER. 
« 
or any fair that lie had forgotten. It was the four¬ 
teenth of September—no. lie could not remember 
that It differed from any other day. lie saw that 
it was a lovely morning; there was bright sun¬ 
shine, a sweet western wind, while all nature look¬ 
ed blithe and gay; still he could not understand 
the commotion In the town. 
He went Into his omee—even the clerk was not 
there. Without loss of time he went to work busily 
at his papers. Ha! Surely he was not mistaken 
as to the chime of the old church bells—surely they 
were chiming not an every-day chime—surely he 
heard a burst of Jubilant melody, a clang of joyful 
sound ? He opened the window and the rich waves 
of sound came in upon the sunlit air. 
“It Is like the sound of wedding-bells,” lie thought 
to himself, “ but no ono has beeu married from 
here.” 
There was something pathetic in the handsome 
wondering face leaning from t he window, listening 
to the bells that were ringing his death-knell. 
He could not write; It was as though a thousand 
gay and airy shapes were flitting round him. There 
was one consolatlou—the bell-rlnglng could not 
last—it must stop soon. He could network with 
that mad, merry music tilling the air; but he could 
go and ask what It all meant. 
It was strange that the first person he saw was 
the Vicar’s wife, Mrs. Hunter. He asked her why 
the bells were ringing; and, as she looked at him, 
her eyes filled with tears. 
“They ling for so many things,” she replied; 
“how can I tell which it is?” 
lie passed on, but, as he walked away, she looked 
at 1dm closely, while soruetliiug like a sob rose to 
her lips. 
“Beautiful women are beautiful fiends some¬ 
times,” said the Vicar’s wife to herself. “ I would 
not have done such a thing.” 
Felix thought her strange—but he had almost 
ceased to wonder at anythlug. Then he mot his 
old friend Doctor Ludlow. He stopped and spoke 
to him, 
“ I ought to be very busy with my work,” he 
said, “but those bells distract me. I have had to 
put away my writing. What are they ringing for, 
Doctor ?” 
And the klud-liearted Doctor looked sadly at 
him. 
“ Have you not heard?” he asked. 
“No—I hear so little—I am so busy always. 
What Is It for?” 
But the Doctor could not tell him. 
*- Go as far as the church," he said; “ the walk 
will do you good this beautiful morning- Ask the 
ringers—they are sure to know.” 
lie had not the time to spare; but the morning 
was tine, and some strange instinct that lie could 
not account ror hurried him on. 
“Way are you ringing tills merry chime to¬ 
day?” he asked of one of the ringers, a white- 
headed old man, whose arms were wearied, and 
who sat resting on one of the green graves. 
“ Why ? Because the great sir Owen Is married 
to-day, Master Lonsdale.” 
" Married 1” cried Felix. “ Married to whom ?” 
The chiming ceased and the wind fell as the old 
man answered— 
*• Married to violet Ilaye.” 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
There are no finer woods In England than the 
woods that surround Bramber Towers. Bnunber 
is a glorious estate, and the woods extend to Lll- 
ford. 
The Earl of Arlington, master or the Towers, 
had but one fault In the eyes of the county—he 
was too fond of travelling. It was no unusual 
thing for the Towers to be closed for two or three 
years, white the Karl, with his wife and daughter, 
delighted in fair Continental cities. *• Let Justice 
be done, though the heavens fall,’’ was a favorite 
quotation of his. 
Lord Arlington was a straightforward, honest, 
honorable Englishman— all devious ways aud tor¬ 
tuous paths were unknown to him. it was always 
observed that if lie were absent for any length of 
time things went wrong. Ills first concern on his 
return was to endeavor to set them light. He had 
been absent, nearly three years this time, lingering 
with Ills beautiful wife and daughter In the quaint 
cities of old Spain. Ho reached home on Ihe elev¬ 
enth of September; and lie feared that, as usual, 
during his absence much had gone wrong. Ills 
return was hardly known In the neighborhood— 
for one of the things that Lord Arlington disliked 
was fuss; why should there he a scene every time 
he returned? So he generally kept his Intention 
secret. 
The Countess was a beautiful, quiet, refined wo¬ 
man. One of her great characteristics was her 
sympathetic manner. It was natural to her to 
feel intensely the sorrows and Joys of Others. 
There were two children—the young heir. Lord 
Bramber, who was still at Oxford, and Lady Maude 
Bramber, a lovely girl about two years older titan 
her brother. 
Lady Maude Inherited her mother’s peculiarly 
sympathetic nature. She was as gifted as she was 
beautiful: and the one thing In which she excelled 
was art. 8he would have made one of the finest 
painters of the day had she not been an earl’s 
daughter; as It was, her pictures were far superior 
to those of many well-known artists. It was at 
her solicitation that Lord Arlington returned home 
that autumn. She had seen ihe finest parts of 
Europe—the most picturesque—the most beautiful; 
but there was nothing she liked better than the 
flare old woods round Bramber; and she loved them 
best In autumn, when the leaves were falling, aud 
the glorious tints of the foliage made a picture the 
tints of which could not he transferred to canvas. 
She had begged that they might spend the au¬ 
tumn at home; for the beauty of an English au¬ 
tumn surpassed anything which they could see 
abroad. Her wish was compiled with, as Is the 
wish of a spoiled child often, and she promised her¬ 
self a few pleasant months. 
She set out one moralug with her sketch-book 
nd pencils. The Countess suggested that sh* 
should take a maid ora footman with her—Lady 
Maude laughed. 
“No danger lurks In our English woods, mamma,” 
she said. "If 1 were in Italy or Greece, I might 
meet a few brigands; here at Bramber there will 
be nothing worse than the pretty brown hares and 
the little squirrels. I could not sketch at iny ease 
with a great Idle man waiting for me.” 
Bo she went Into the Bramber Woods. As she 
neared the woods she heard a faint chiming of dis¬ 
tant bells. 
“ They are tSie bells of Lllford old church,” she 
said to herself; “what a mellow rich sound! I 
shall not hear It. presently.” 
It died away as she entered the beautiful greeu 
glades: the sound could not penetrate the thick 
masses of rollage. 
There was a broad open space, and a majestic 
oak spread out its great branches there. It was 
like a little kingdom In Itself, this wonderful oak— 
a great green kingdom with a life alllts own. Near 
It stood a very line elm; and In the distance she 
saw the branches of a fine ash-tree. Not far from 
there was a pretty little brook, so clear that one 
could see the pebbles at the bottom or It; It ran 
with a sweet musical ripple that was a song in 
itself. The birds were having an entertainment of 
some kind in the green kingdom of leaves, and the 
noise they made over it was continuous. 
As she became absorbed in the keen delight of 
her sketching, she forgot her feathered neighbors. 
They no longer disturbed her. It was all so still, 
so peaceful, so beautiful that she thought she 
could sit there for ever. Once she was dis¬ 
turbed; she fancied that from the long western 
glade on the other side of her t here came the sound 
of reckless running footsteps, and then of a heavy 
fall, but after a moment, or two she concluded that 
It was only the rabbits. 
“ They are having a steeplechase," she said, and 
laughed at the Idea; then the pencil trembled in 
her fingers, for surely she heard the sound or terri¬ 
ble sobbing, great, passionate, bitter sobs. .She 
could not be mistaken—they grew more bitter and 
deep, and then all was still. She tried to go on 
with her drawing, but her band trembled—sue 
could not persuade herself t hat what she had heard 
was fancy. Something must have made the noise 
—she would go and see. 
(7Vj be continued.) 
-•- 
CLEOPATRA. 
ANNE CI.AYBOURNE. 
Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, was one of the most 
brilliant and beautiful women the world has ever 
known, but her husband, Ptolemy Dionysius, who 
was her own brother, deprived her of her share of 
the kingdom and drove her to seek protection of 
the Romans, cajsar was then emperor of Rome, 
and she used all her powers uf fascination to win 
Ids favor, and succeeded. 
When c'aisar was assassinated, she was accused 
of having assented lu t he crime, and was brought 
before Marc Antony for trial. Although coming 
to judgment, she came in the pride of beauty and 
anticipated triumph. Her galley was burnished 
with gold, Us silken sails were filled with odors, 
and the silver oais, which were piled by the most 
beautiful maidens of Egypt, moved to the sweet 
sounds of music. The lovely < leopatra, arrayed iu 
slight drapery, reclined under a canopy on the 
deck, and appeared more like the dream of some 
sculptor or painter than like a human being. 
Mare Antony was charmed with her person and 
talents and became her lover, neglecting his wife. 
But this woman of splendid attractions, who could 
make great men her slaves, and might have wield¬ 
ed, aa unlimited power for good, was ambitious, ex¬ 
travagant. and unprincipled. After Viesur’s death, 
Antony aspired to the head of the government, but 
Octavius Augustus, grand-nephew of t'sesar, op¬ 
posed him; a battle was fought for the sovereign¬ 
ty of the world at Act I um on the Mediterranean, 
west of Greece, at which Cleopatra had sixty or her 
finest vessels. .lust as Antony was about to gain 
the victory, Cleopatra, with her sixty galleys, de¬ 
serted him, and be, rashly abandoning the con¬ 
quest, followed her oil from the field of action. 
She caused herself to be reported dead, upon 
hearing which Antony besought his faithful friend 
aud servant, Korns, to kill him. Erons pretended 
to consent, but when Antony's face was turned 
away, he killed himself instead. Antony was so 
touched by tills proof of devotion, that he took the 
sword and wounded himself mortally, hut lived 
long enough to he carried Into the presence of Cleo¬ 
patra. Here we find him in a magnificent apart¬ 
ment, Its walls of purest alabaster, polished like 
mirrors, and Its columns of gold, most delicately 
ornamented. Through the open windows are seen 
the dark, glossy leaves Of the fig, the broad canopy 
of palms a hundred feet high, pavements of milk- 
white marble, cool as snow, and beautiful fountains 
of sparkling water. 
On a couch which glows with the pictured fab¬ 
rics of Eastern looms lies Mare Antony lu almost 
superhuman majesty, his eyes closed, the curls 
parted from his noble brow, but his face so natural 
that, but for the rigidity of limbs, one might think 
he slept, Evidences of affection are all around; 
perfumes liberally sprinkled upon IBs auburn lucks, 
and garlands of freshest flowers upon his cold 
limbs. Cleopatra sits beside him lu speechless woe. 
with fixed yet vacant gaze. 1 alike her regard for 
other heroes, sue has loved him for himself, aud 
not for his tame or power. Near them, on a table 
of the richest porphyry, negligently strewn with 
Instruments of music, there stands a plain and 
common-looking basket, filled wli.h the glossy 
leaves and purple fruit of the fig; they look very 
tempting, but there is a slight rustling sound, at 
times, and a movement of the leaves, not regular, 
as If shaken by the breeze, but heaving up, at Inter¬ 
vals, as If some living thing was lurking under¬ 
neath, and on a close examination, deadly asps are 
found crawling among the fruit; these serpents 
Cleopatra has applied to her bosom, aud a very 
tiny spot of blood shows where the poison has been 
Injected Into her veins. Octavius, the successor of 
Cfcsar, has conquered, and she will not be his pris¬ 
oner ; her hero is dead, and she will follow him. 
Octavius comes himself, with all the nobles of his 
court, and darters her with honeyed words, but she 
rejects lfi s clemency with haughty scorn. He says: 
“ We would have the beautiful Cleopatra among 
our friends: she Is queen of Egypt still.” 
“ By the gTeat gods, I am! Nor Is It In the power 
of all Rome to make me other! Free was l bom 
and royal: free will I die and royal! Caesar, I 
scorn your mercies, as I defy your menaces! My 
father left me a crown, and crowned will I go to 
my father!” 
With this she flung her hand lu defiance toward 
the victor, placed t he antique crown of the Ptole¬ 
mies upon her raven locks, and stretching herself 
upon the couch by the side of Antony, closed her 
eyes, gave one long, convulsive shudder, and Cleo¬ 
patra the beautiful was no more. Egypt never 
since has known a native sovereign. 
RECENT LITERATURE. 
Ilvgienc of ilie lirnin nml Nerves and the 
Cure «r Nervousness, with Twenty-eightoriu- 
inal Letters from leading Thinkers and Writers, 
concerning tlielr Physical and Intellectual Hab¬ 
its. By M. L. Holbrook, M. D. New York: 
Holbrook * Co. 
Tins Is a most admirable work, and one which 
deserves a place In every family library. As the 
author very truly says, “ Nervous exhaustion Is In 
the ascendant. It crops out In every direction, 
our hot-house education promotes It, by cultivat¬ 
ing the mind at the expense of the body. Our sed¬ 
entary ways of living promote it. our haste to get 
rich, our risks In business, our anxieties, our cares, 
all help to bring on nervous exhaustion. It Is time 
for us to consider this matter in the light of science 
and common-sense, ami see If something cannot he 
done to relieve our generation from the curse of 
nervous exhaustion, and show people how to con¬ 
duct their lives so that peace and serenity shall 
take the place of haste and excitement, aud all 
their attending evils.” In the following chapters 
much excellent advice is given about diet, rest from 
head-work, walking, amusements, ic. The chap- 
lei's entitled Important Questions Answered. What 
Our Thinkers and Scientists Say, are replete with 
valuable Information. The latter part of the 
hook Is devoted to letters from T. W. Hlgglnson, 
Wm. Lloyd Garrison, A. Bronson Alcott, Win. E. 
Dodge, Dio Lewis, Frederick Beecher Perkins, Judge 
Samuel A. Foot, Sarah 4. Hale, O. B. Frothlngham, 
and many others who have become famous In the 
world of letters. We recommend the book to all 
who have charge of children, whether parents or 
teachers. 
(oiniiinu Si-nur iii litiNincsti; or Practical An- 
swers to IVutJtlOul Questions on the True Prin¬ 
ciples anil Laws ot Success iu Farming. Manu¬ 
factures, Speculation and Buying and Selling 
MercbuUdtee, with vmie Sucae.stlons on uiakinu 
Wills and the CautA-s of Failures in Business. 
By km WIN T. FKKEDLXY. Philadelphia : Cliix- 
ton, Ken]sun & HnlfeJUnger. 
It Is Impossible ro do justice to this work in any¬ 
thing short of an elaborate review, or to present Us 
many claims to the careful perusal of every one, lu 
whatever walk of life. It Is very generally sup¬ 
posed that business Is Inseparable from the princi¬ 
ples of common sense, but Mr. Freedley conclusive¬ 
ly shows it may be, and often is, conducted on a 
very different basis. He lays down clear and prac¬ 
tical rules for the guidance of the Inexperienced, as 
the veteran mariner describes In his charts the 
rocks, shoals aud channels, while the questions and 
answers demonstrate the Importance of the appli¬ 
cation of sound common sense to all the problems 
incident to t he active dut ies of life. To young men. 
especially, it will be round highly Instructive, not 
only In the laws of business but as to the true prin¬ 
ciples of success. 
itoxy. By Edward Boo lkston. New York: chas. 
Scribner’s Sons. Price $1 ...d. 
As a bit of character sketching "Roxy” (the 
heroine) is well nigh perfect , not perfectly good 
but supremely natural. Most good women (ln t 
books) move about in such a grandly superior way, 
that they appear super-human, and the reader 
however much he may admire goodness lu the ab¬ 
stract, is apt to sigh ror some evidence of original 
sin to make the character appear more human 
Mr. Eggleston has succeeded iu portraying a grand¬ 
ly noble woman, w ho Is, withal, a possible woman. 
There are also graphic descriptions of “ hoe-downs’' 
and *• barbecues,” forms of amusement with which 
many people are not familiar, and the true Inward¬ 
ness ot electioneering in a frontier town Is very 
cleverly delineated. Mr. Eggleston shows human 
nature as It is, aud some rather repulsive sins ap¬ 
pear In the course of the narrative, hut his treat¬ 
ment of them is very delicate, and he proves con¬ 
clusively that the hideousness of vice can be shown 
without offending the sensibilities ot the most fas¬ 
tidious. _ 
Cnsdes In l lie Vir. By Louise R. Upton. New 
York : U. I*. Putnam's Sons. $1 25. 
This Is one of the feeblest or all the mediocre 
volumes the year ls‘s has bequeat hed to the world 
There is no plot—no srovy to speak of; t he charao 
tors, with perhaps one exception, are weak and 
commonplace. The few Incidents are Improbable 
and uninteresting, and In fact ibe whole structure 
shows such a want of force and originality as to 
augur but poor success for t his author's future 
efforts. 
-♦-*-♦- 
Portrait of Lowell.— The publishers ot the 
Atlantic Monthly have prepared for Their subscrib¬ 
ers au admirable life-size portrait of lion. James 
Russell Lowell. It Is uniform with the Atlantic 
Portraits of Longfellow. Bryant and Whittier, Is¬ 
sued in previous years. It Is far the best portrait ever 
made ot Mr. Lowell, aud as Mr. George William 
Curtis says: “ The expression Is most characteris¬ 
tic. and these who bave hitherto known the poetry 
and not the poet, will like the poetry all the more 
now i hat they have seen the poet in so true a like¬ 
ness.” 
Mr. E. P. Whipple, the Essayist, says: "The 
** 
ace Is full of expression. It seems lo me that every 
friend of Lowell, and every Lover of Ills genius, will 
prize this portrait.” Air. Charles Dudley Warner, 
author of “My Summer In a Garden,” calls It “a 
noble portrait ot our Minister to Spain, poet, satirist, 
essayist, scholar.” This admirable portrait Is not 
offered to the general public, but is furnished to 
subscribers of the Atlantic Monthly, tor one dollar, 
by the publishers, nought on,;osgood ts Co., Boston. 
BITS OF GOSSIP. 
The Blind Professor.— It Is said of Prof. Faw¬ 
cett, the blind member of Parliament, that no 
sooner had he recognized that he was hopelessly 
blind for life—he was shot In the eyes by a com¬ 
panion while out partridge shooting—than he de¬ 
termined that “ It should make no difference,” ex¬ 
cept perhaps that his career should be political 
rather than legal. Already entered at Lincoln's 
Inn, he relinquished, after some thought, a legal 
career efit irely, and to the amazement of his friends 
proceeded to active political work. How com 
pletely his own opinion has been justified at the 
expense of that of ills friends is now well known; 
but success could hardly have been predicted for 
the blind young man wjio, without money, con¬ 
nections, or political hacking of any kind, came up 
to town on the death of Sir Charles Napier, and at¬ 
tended only by his secretary, took a committee- 
room and proposed to the elec tore of Southwark that 
lie should represent them in Parliament, ills cour¬ 
age, however, made him many friends, and he only 
retired from the contest when Mr. Luyard was 
brought, forward, Unsuccessful in his first attempt 
to gain a seat in Parliament, he made a second at 
Cambridge, which, as well as a subsequent ven¬ 
ture at Brighton, resulted in defeat. At the gen¬ 
eral election of isos he contested Brighton again, 
and was then ejected by a large majority. Again 
beaten at Brighton In iST-i, he was shortly after¬ 
ward returned for Hackney. Meanwhile he be¬ 
came Professor of Political Economy at the Uni¬ 
versity of Cambridge, a post which he still holds. 
Anna Dickinson to Lecture Again.— Anna Dick¬ 
inson, since her theatrical experience of last sea¬ 
son, has been devoting herself to the study of 
French History, Ln which she had already become 
Interested lo an unusual degree, and at the solici¬ 
tation of friends, she has consented to appear again 
on the lecture platform, and give, ln a series of lec¬ 
tures, the result of her studies. Miss Dickinson has 
consented to this arrangement with reluctance, 
fearing that It might be said that she had given up 
her Intention to follow the stage. Her lectures 
will be delivered In only the largest cities, begin¬ 
ning In New York, and her subjects for the series, 
which will Include four lectures, will be “ Joan of 
Arc,” "Henry IV," "Voltaire,” and “Danton.” 
She will be under the management of t he American 
Literary bureau. Miss Dickinson's return to the 
lecture field should not he construed into an aban¬ 
donment, of her theatrical aspirations. She attrl 
butes her Ill-fortune theatrically to the treatment 
she received at the hands of the New York critics, 
and she has determined to wait for an auspicious 
time, and then to tread the boards again ln char¬ 
acters of her own creation.— -V. Y. Sun. 
A Good Showino for America.— The thrift and 
Industry of the people of New York city are clearly 
Illustrated by the comparison ot our savings hanks 
deposits with those ur three of the most econo¬ 
mical and Industrious nations of Europe, as follows, 
the figures being taken from th? latest official re¬ 
turns at hand: 
Population. 
New York City. l.luo,UUU 
Switzerland. 2.669,tXXJ 
Austria. aa^M,436 
France. 36 .iu2.ru 
Deposits. 
$174,177,622 
5i.6tXI.UUO 
lfit,470,624 
132,US5,UUU 
This comparison shows the thrift of the people of 
New York city In a light never berore presented. 
The savings bunks deposits of New York city, with 
a population of 1,100,0110, are more than three times 
greater than those of Switzerland, with a popula¬ 
tion of 2,669,000; are within $5,298,201 of those of 
Austria, with a population of 35,su4,435, and are 
$-42,092,623 in excess of those of France, with a pop¬ 
ulation 30,102,921—iV. F. Erpress. 
No llAiin Times in “ Temperance ” Villages.— 
Air. Win. E. Dodge, the well-known manufacturer 
and merchant of tiffs city, when recently before 
the congressional labor committee as a witness, 
said that his firm employing some 2,ooo persons, 
made It a rule that persons engaged in their manu¬ 
facturing villages should not use intoxicating 
drinks. As a consequence there was no complaint 
of hard times among them. The villages named 
by him were Ausonla, Conn., Dodge AllBs near 
Williamsport, Penn., Tabyliama .Mills. Warren 
County, Penn., St. Simon's Aims, Ga., Wabasheen 
Mills and Magnattlwau Mills, Ontario, Canada, and 
Colllngwood Alias, Canada. Many of our employes, 
Air. Dodge continued, are property owners. Some 
or them have been with us ten, twenty and twen¬ 
ty-five years. Our men have nor suffered during 
this depression. They accepted wages which we 
could pay. and there has therefore been no spe¬ 
cial distress among them. Crime Is practically 
unknown among them .—'scit uiijtc Jmericun. 
Honey sent to England iu the comb over a month 
ago, ror ihe first time, reached Liverpool safely on 
the 0th. of Dee^hber, and the experiment Is pro¬ 
nounced successful. There wore eighty tous In 
one ship, stored, says the Pall Atall Gazette, with 
some curiosity, “ by American bees themselves in¬ 
to hall' a million neat little glass-sided boxes.” 
That paper learns that the honey was the partial 
product of 12,uni) swarms of bees, m which a large 
mercantile firm is Interested, and which are dis¬ 
tributed throughout the lioney-produclng sections 
of the United states m apiaries of 10b swarms each. 
“ There seems to be no limit,” it says, “ to the pro¬ 
visions with which America Is prepared to supply 
us. The first experiment ot bringing honey in the 
comb on a large scale to Europe from America hav¬ 
ing proved success!uL It will no doubt be repeated. 
Houey wlU even perhaps become with us, as it. was 
with the ancients, an important article of food.” 
