not shed a tear for effect—and, rather than put the best foot foremost, if it did not happen to come of its own accord, she would be far more likely to get up a cloven hoof for the occasion. She is a woman who, if she saw a bullet whizzing through the air and making for your heart, would (if she liked you, mind) throw herself upon you without a word or a scream, and receive the death-dealing missile in her own breast." "And a woman," said Chase, quietly, "who, if she did not like you, wouldn't hesitate to shoot you herself. John-John! I am sorry to see you so far gone such infatuation is unworthy of you." John smiled, but his smile was neither childlike nor bland; it had a world of meaning in it which his companion did not see. His thoughts were busy with a pair of blue, dilated eyes-just the kind of eyes that always had power to carry him out of his sober senses—and a cloud of sunny hair: but this, he told himself, was the admiration of the artist and not of the man. The latter shuddered with abhorrence at the personality that materialized these exquisite belongings. The next day Chase Carroll met Mrs. Carneth face to face in the principal street of Ranchtown. He raised his hat with a courtly bow; but the lady passed him defiantly, her hands in the jaunty pockets of her outer garment, heels clinking, ribbons flying, and whistling like a mocking-bird as she went. She called out over her shoulder, as an afterthought, "Got your boots blacked, ain't you?”. this effeminate luxury being reserved for a Sunday indulgence among genuine Ranchtown residents. Carroll almost tore his hair with disgust. Was there no one to take this beautiful, half-wild thing in hand and make a civilized woman of her?" some fellows laughing as I went past yesterday, so I sent him a note. Want to see?" With some curiosity as to its contents, Chase took the document and read: "DEAR SIR: I noticed your horrid, mean, contemptible behavior yesterday. Just remember what I said to you at our last interview. I hear you take kindly to your victuals. Look out!" Recalling John's undisguised enjoyment of his "victuals," Carroll could not restrain his amusement at his fair adversary's continued thrusts at what she evidently considered the weak point in his armor. She bounded up with flashing eyes. "Are you laughing at me, sir, or my note? Isn't it written and spelled like a lady?" It was unexceptionable in all but the matter; and it was quite evident that the redoubtable Katharine was by no means uneducated. "I am laughing, Mrs. Carneth, at my friend Rollins," was the somewhat hypocritical reply; "he does take kindly to his victuals, and would it not be somewhat cruel to deprive him of so innocent an enjoyment?" He did not dream, when his erratic companion knocked over his drawing apparatus and took herself off in a whirlwind, that she had restrained an almost irresistible desire to strike him in the face. As she vanished, he stooped and possessed himself of the picturesque straw hat with its burden of flowers, left forgotten on the hill-side; and, rearranging his materials, he soon produced a spirited sketch, that afterward bloomed into an exquisite cabinet picture, universally admired at the exhibition as "Cross Purposes." And at his work the artist pondered: "Who will play Petruchio to tame this Katharine? Not John Going out a few days later to one of the hills to Rollins, surely, for she could wind him with the sketch, he suddenly encountered a reclining figure, greatest case around her little finger. Poor Rolfull of easy grace-a large straw hat filled with spring-lins!" he soliloquized, "what an unfortunate enblossoms lying near-small, dimpled hands, clasping tanglement !" white-and-pink flowers, folded on the heaving breast; heavy white lids, with lashes that cast long shadows, like a fringe of alders on a quiet lake; the full, childish mouth curved in a restful smile; in short, he saw before him Katharine Baring Carneth locked, like Abou-ben-Adhem, in a deep dream of peace. He was loath to disturb it; but suddenly the fair Katharine opened not, like Keats's Madeline, "her blue, affrayed eyes," but a pair of glorious orbs which, though cerulean, were perfectly clear and dazzling, and seemed to question the intruder as to his business there. "I can claim a forfeit," said Carroll, as he stood regarding her, "and I will tell you what it shall be -you shall let me sketch you on the spot." For answer, Katharine smiled and drew from her bosom not a revolver, as her companion half expected, but a business-like slip of paper. "Your friend Rollins," said she, as though she had not heard him, "is a brute, and he'll get shot some of these fine days if he don't look out. He set Chase Carroll concluded that the shooting of his friend had been indefinitely postponed when, one evening soon after these events, John Rollins entered the Ranchtown opera-house, where the most promiscuous and varied entertainments were held, in devoted attendance on Mrs. Carneth, who was in a perfect blaze of beauty, and the cynosure of all the male eyes in the place. Carroll found it impossible to keep his own orbs from wandering in that direction; the physical perfection of this most objectionable woman was scarcely less than marvelous. The beautiful eyes, too, had an occasional wistful glance, as though she might be capable of better things. The entertainment that evening was stupid enough. An ancient prima donna made furious contortions, and grinned with lantern-jaws like a death'shead at the audience whenever she attempted to sing. Ballet-girls, who were middle-aged matrons in private life, lavishly displayed their lack of charms; the scenery went wrong, and presented a sea-coast furnished as a drawing-room. The au dience hooted and became impatient; and then took refuge in talking, and ignoring the whole thing. Rollins threw his head back, and laughed immoderately at something Mrs. Carneth was telling him; and when Carroll afterward, with characteristic masculine curiosity, inquired what it was that so excited his friend's risibilities, he heard that the lady had confided to him the astounding fact that "she had a sweet temper, and never was real mad but once! This once," she added, "was enough to raise any woman's hair off her head-but she got even with Joe." A certain friend of hers, it seemed, a gentle-looking person with downcast eyes that always seemed full of unshed tears, and a low voice ("I hate that kind!" parenthesized the speaker, vindictively), was boarding at the same hotel, and so entwined herself in a stealthy and unsuspected manner about the susceptible Joe that he presented her secretly with quite a valuable set of malachite. But, the jeweler of whom it was bought, being a friend and admirer of Mrs. Carneth, informed her of the purchase, and the injured wife made a bee-line, as she expressed it, for her false friend and rival's trunk. 1 "I just camped down in that trunk," she continued, excitedly, "till I found the stones and seized 'em. I couldn't wear green, you know, and I wasn't going to spoil my looks for that woman; so I sent 'em back to the jeweler and got 'em changed for a set of coral. And then I went for Joe, and talked to him till he felt real wicked, and promised not to do so any more. But I told him that he need never kiss me again, and that he should never, never kiss my baby either." Baby!" repeated Carroll, in a sort of horror; "has she a child, then?" She had," was the reply; "but it died. She will sing, or whistle, perhaps, if any allusion is made to it, and then leave the room abruptly for an hysterical burst of weeping. For this mad Katharine really has a tender heart that has never found its right master yet." "You seem to hold the key," said his friend, curtly. John Rollins smiled; but it was the same peculiar smile that had before followed certain remarks of Carroll's. "To what particular she do you allude?" asked Rollins, exasperatingly. "There are several of that persuasion in Ranchtown." Carroll started and reddened; he was intensely provoked at himself. "I allude," he continued, with forced calmness, "to Mrs. Carneth; it is not pleasant to be an object of dislike." "She has not spoken of shooting you," remarked John, very coolly. "It strikes me that she once said there were the makings of a man in you, if you could get rid of your nonsense." Again a crimson streak crossed Carroll's brow. This half-savage beauty, then, regarded him very much as he did her-worth the making over! He was conscious of an attraction similar to that which a lithe, fiery mustang has for the eye of a Mexican horse-tamer. Her indomitable spirit was at first her greatest charm; but afterward he saw better things in her. She was the incarnation of health, life, and hope. She was tolerably well educated, in spite ✓ of her slang; had a fresh, elastic nature, that knew not how to repine; and bore with beautiful patience the vagaries of her peevish, broken-down old father. He met her coming out of hovels-he looking for beauty, she for suffering-where she went with openhanded but imperious generosity, and was both criticised and adored. At such times the little basket on her arm was in piquant contrast to an exaggerated masculinity assumed for the feminine purpose of drawing attention from her deeds of mercy. One day a case of unusual wretchedness had brought tears to her eyes; and, meeting Carroll face to face while in this softened state, she suddenly exclaimed: "I wish that I could swear! I will just say 'd-n' once-there!" and she was off like the swift-flying deer. John Rollins watched his friend with a sort of inexplicable satisfaction. Ranchtown had been sketched from all available points, and he fully exPected Carroll to have been disgusted long ago; but still he lingered. The artist could not have told himself what he was waiting for, but he gradually fell into a habit of going to see old Baring and playing endless "Here are some verses," he continued, "that I got possession of a while ago. I do not think they games of chess with him. On these occasions Katharine would invariably absent herself-going out would disgrace Tennyson." either with or without a pretext as soon as he appeared, and remaining until after his departure. He was baffled at every turn, and, provoked at himself and at Katharine, he tried in vain to shake off the spell that seemed to bind him to Ranchtown as with Only lines to a dead baby, that editors all complain of as a drug in the market; but there was a tender grace and pathos about them that went directly to Carroll's heart. What a vehement, passionate, contradictory creature she was!-this strangest specimen of womanhood that he had ever encountered—this wild Western product of a demi-civilization. And yet there was evidently a noble, loving heart throbbing beneath her reckless manner. "I cannot get a word from her," Chase complained, one day, with knitted brows; "she avoids me like the pestilence. What is there about mc, I wonder, that is so repulsive? Has she ever spoken to you of me?"" iron bands. mining village that lay, in its weird desolation, like a blot upon the flower-gemmed hill-side. To her came Chase Carroll, hurrying from the opposite direction as he caught a glimpse of her charming face and sunny hair; and then and there he told her of his love and his desire for her improvement. "You are a lovely fairy princess,” said he, under a wicked spell-cast it off, Katharine, and come to me, my ideal of all that is beautiful and lovable." " "Thank you very much, sir," replied the princess, with a mock courtesy, "but I am quite satisfied with myself as I am. As to being 'yours', I'd rather be my own—and I have certainly given you no reason to suppose that I cared a paper of pins about you.' Carroll could not deny this; and, with an air of ineffable disdain, Katharine was pursuing her waywhen, happening to glance over her shoulder, she suddenly turned and flung herself on Carroll's breast. At the same instant a bullet whizzed by, grazing her white, rounded arm, and leaving a streak of crimson on its snow. With a thrill of horror Chase Carroll unclasped those death-like, clinging arms, and gazed into her face. It was colorless, and the white petals of the lids were closed over the gentian eyes. "Katharine!" he whispered, hoarsely, "you are hurt you are killed! and for me'!" For like a flash came to him those words of John Rollins: "She is a woman who, if she saw a bullet whizzing through the air and making for your heart, would (if she liked you, mind) throw herself upon you without a word or a scream, and receive the death-dealing missile in her own breast." With a powerful effort Katharine Carneth recovered herself, and sank down on a rock near by. "It is nothing," she said, with something of her old, saucy air of defiance; "I am not hurt a bit. I saw that loafer Sim Klint, who got up a quarrel with you the other night, in the hall" (Chase barely remembered the incident), "and swore that he would shoot you through the heart the first time he caught you in a handy place. He's been lurking among those hovels yonder, watching for you. But I knew he would not fire on me, because he loves me to distraction-offers himself once a week regularly. He turned his revolver just in time. Allow me to bid you good-afternoon, Mr. Carroll." "I owe my life to you, Katharine," was the reply; "you will not surely leave me in this way?" "You owe me nothing!" she exclaimed, petulantly; "I would have done as much for Sim himself." And, with this monstrous falsehood trembling on her lips, Katharine burst into tears. Chase Carroll gathered her closely in his arms, and whispered, as he kissed the tears away: Haven't I seen from the beginning that we never could be anything to each other, and purposely avoided you? Why do you persecute me with your hollow offers of love? What am I but a wild, untutored creature, whom your grand relations would flout-whom you, yourself, would soon despise and hate? And yet I might have been different-I have been cheated of my happiness! Oh! my wasted, wasted life!" and she sobbed wildly. "Listen to me, Katharine," he replied, with infinite tenderness; "I have seen you at your very worst, and yet I neither hate nor despise you. Your glorious dower of beauty, your noble nature, have led me captive-and love will soon teach you all that you need to learn. Your present life is not your natural sphere; and transplanted to a congenial soil, you will bloom with fresh grace and beauty, the fairest flower there." They walked home in the twilight, Katharine with downcast eyes, and a fine cambric handkerchief, with "Chase Carroll" daintily embroidered in one corner, bound upon her arm, and feeling so utterly quiet and subdued that she almost wondered at her own identity. Almost her last slang was uttered to her companion that afternoon, as she informed him that "she never would have thought he'd pan out so well." Carroll was in a whirl of tumultuous happiness at having caged this beautiful wild bird to be tamed by his caresses and taught to sing his favorite songs. But poor Rollins! how selfish not to think of him! how would he feel to have this glorious prize snatched almost from his very hand? He need not have worried himself. " Chase, my boy," observed that benign philosopher, between the puffs of an excellent Havana, “I feel that I have done a great deal for you. You came here a pale, thin, whining sort of creature, out of joint with the world and everything in it, and evidently in need of a tonic of the strongest kind. That tonic suggested itself in the shape of Katharine Carneth-a more agreeable shape, by-the-way, than tonics are apt to assume and I resolved at once that my poor efforts should be directed to the accomplishment of your joint happiness. I really take considerable credit to myself for making the match-the fair Katharine not being a particularly tractable subject." "My darling! Say that you love me, and will asked Rollins, suddenly, as though it were necessary be my own true wife, and I am satisfied." " in some way to put an immediate end to him. "I have not contemplated disposing of him summarily," was the laughing reply; "he is quite harm 'You are mocking me!" cried Katharine, as love and indignation struggled in her quivering voice. "What is there in common between us two? | less." The silent steersman landward turned, But soon from sleep's dear death (it seemed) Till suddenly I paused, for lo! A shape-from whence I ne'er divined— A wraith, I thought, that walks the shore Full heavy hung the draggled gown he wore, He waited not, as ghosts oft use, To be dear-heaven'd and oh'd, But briskly said: "Good-evenin'; what's the news? Consumption? After boa'd? "Or mebbe you're intendin' of Investment! Orange-plantin'? Pine? Hotel? or sanitarium? What above This ye❜ath can be your line? Speakin' of sanitariums, now, Jest look'ee here, my friend; I know a little story-well, I swowWait till you hear the end: "Some year or more ago, I s'pose, I roamed from Maine to Floridy, And-see where them there tall palmettos grows ? I bought that little Key, "Cal'latin' for to build right off A c'lossal sanitarium. Big surf! Hot Gulf! Jest death upon a cough! I run it high, to hum! "Well, sir, I went to work in style; Bought me a steamboat, loaded it With my hotel (pyazers more'n a mile !) Already framed and fit, "Insured 'em, fetched 'em safe around, WHA EDITOR'S ATEVER the incapacity of the Turk for political reform, it would appear that in matters of social ceremony he is not utterly incorrigible. Sultans have in these later days committed not a few violations of the once rigid and unalterable etiquette of Osmanli royalty. The mollahs and muftis were greatly scandalized, and gloomily wagged their heads, when, ten years ago, Abdul-Aziz defied every tradition of Stamboul, and condescended to become the guest of an upstart French emperor and a Christian English queen. That was a breach in hitherto unbroken custom which painfully shocked the good old souls who typified the toryism of Turkey. But it was scarcely so flagrant a departure as that which has recently been made by the young Caliph Abdul-Hamid. He has not only made a constitution, provoking in the mosques the familiar tory cry that "the country is going to the dogs," but has actually invited a Christian and European lady, not even of noble blood, to dine with him! This unique distinction in the annals of the Ottoman court has been conferred upon Mrs. Layard, the wife of the British embassador. Nor, as might | be supposed, was this lady entertained in the Haramlik, where dwell the fair sultanas of his majesty, but actually in the imperial apartments, the Selamlyk, devoted exclusively to the sultan's use. Here, in the good old days when the Ottoman sovereignty was a real and august despotism, when the sultan was in truth a ruler absolute in sway and sacred in person, he used to breakfast and dine in solitary grandeur. Not even the nearest of kin | were permitted to eat of the dishes of which he ate, or even to stand by his chair, while he regaled himself with the dainty morsels which culinary ingenuity invented and provided for him. Within a few years the princes and great ministers of state have, on rare occasions, been admitted to seats at the sultanic table; but never, on any account, has a sultan permitted his best-beloved sultana to invade the august dining-room of the Selamlyk. No wonder that the startling appearance of Mrs. Layard there has created a most profound sensation in Stamboul. We can imagine the excited gossip which buzzed through the court; the shrill exclamations which must have resounded in the inner precincts of the Seraglio; the stupefied faces of chamberlains and guards, amazed for the moment out of the expressionless propriety of feature which it is their bounden duty to maintain, when the embassadress's black silk rustled in those corridors hitherto unfamiliar with the sound and sight. Not absolutely unknown to them, however; for two Christian ladies have, as a matter of fact, dined in the Selamlyk. But these were the Empress of the French and the Princess of Wales-dames to whom Abdul-Aziz fairly owed hospitality, and who were at least near enough his own rank to make the ceremonial error the less flagrant. It is, indeed, a significant social fact that the successor of the Prophet should sit down socially at his own table with an untitled foreign lady, and conduct himself sim TABLE. | ply like a genial and polite host, and chat with her as with an equal. We recall an amusing story of the reception of an English embassador by the sultan early in the present century. The diplomate was ushered into a shabby antechamber, where, after a long delay, he was waited upon by an official, who threw over his shoulders a rather dirty robe lined with cat-skin. Then he was pushed, rather than conducted, into the royal presence. His address over, the sultan turned to a dragoman and asked whether "the dog"-that is, the envoy-had been fed. A negative answer being returned, the sultan said, "Then let the dog be fed ;" and this ended the conference. It would have been at the risk of his head had any minister suggested to the Sultan Selim to invite "the dog" to dine with him. The hospitality extended to Mrs. Layard shows that the present sultan is disposed to break through the rigid restrictions which have shut in his predecessors from the social intercourse both of distinguished foreigners and their own subjects, and have doomed them to a pompous but monotonous isolation. It affords an evidence, too, that Western manners are gradually creeping into the Oriental social fastnesses of Stamboul. The contrast between the times of Timour and those of Abdul-Hamid is very suggestive. When Timour had dined, the heralds appeared on the palacewalls, blew their trumpets, and loudly proclaimed that the emperor having satisfied his appetite, the rest of mankind might follow his example. Now the chief of Islam leads an English lady to the table with all the graceful amenity of a bourgeois monarch. WHETHER the taste of the English in the matter of amusements has improved or not, certain it is that it has greatly changed within the past half-century. The demise of the celebrated resort known as Cremorne Gardens shows that one formerly popular method of killing time has ceased to have attractions for the fashionable and unfashionable Londoner. Cremorne was the last lingering relic of those brilliant illuminated gardens, with their music and dancing, their pantomimes and plays, their fireworks, balloons, and miniature circuses, their sly, mysterious nooks, their nightly flow of spirits, human and liquid, which used to draw gay crowds of great people and little to their frivolous beguilements. These were veritable little republics of pleasure, where it was quite the thing for a duke to be seen; where, in the last century and in the early part of this, even a duchess might go without serious scandal, so long as she carried her court manners with her and dressed quietly; and yet where the linendraper and city clerk, the lodging-keeper and dress-maker, were not less free to enter. My lord might, at Vauxhall or Ranelagh, frequently jostle his haberdasher, and even his coachman; and was often far from dissatisfied, if young and a little reckless, to find himself threading the mazy dance with my lady's milliner. Rank, in a word, was free to put off its restrictive privileges at the arched gate |