——.__~ l WITH HIS CONSENT. Alpheus Monrough had made his pile as a speculator, principally in rails, but he still amused himself by dealing now and again to the extent of $1,000,000 or so, although for general business he had practically retired from ’change. He was a widower, with an only daugh- ter, Miss Phyllis Monrough, aged 20— a-fine, handsome blonde, who had taken up the study of science. Phyllis had, of course, heaps of of- fers, eligible and otherwise, but she had not met the man whom she cared to . marry, and, at her urgent desire, her father had sent her to Harvard to en- able her to pursue her studies. She went to the university with a mind fully made up to devote her life to. science and to abjure matrimony. In fact, as she herself put it, she had locked up her heart and thrown away the key. ' But we are told that “love laughs at locksmiths,” and, in confirmation there of, she had not been long at Harvard when she found herself head over ears in love with George Stanislaus Rocker- ton, who was studying law there. Young Rockerton came from a good family, was rich, good-looking, and in every way eligible; but when Phyllis wrote to her papa informing him of her tender passion and asking his consent to her engagement, she received a tele- gram (he was so urgent that he would not wait for the post to carry his re- fusal): . “No. Come home at once.” Phyllis had so rarely been denied anything that she was angry, aston- ished, 'dumfounded, broken—hearted all at once. No mere words can accurate- ly describe her feelings. However, there was no help for it. She must obey. And so, after an interview with her lover, in which they vowed eternal attachment, she precipitately threw up her studies and her newly-found hopes of bliss and returned to New York. Her father received her kindly, but with a. firm-set countenance, which she knew from her observations of his deal- ings with others indicated that his mind was made up, and that nothing could alter it. ‘ She, of course, burst into tears to begin with. But it made no visible ef- fect on her parent. “My dear Phyllis,” he said, “you can- not imagine how it pains me to be obliged to run counter to your desire, but when I have explained matters to you, I hope you will agree with me and give up the idea of marrying this young Rockerton. - “When I was a lad, my father had a farm out west, the adjoining farm to which belonged to Ralph Rockerton, the grandfather of the young man you have met. “I need not go into details; it will suffice for you to know that my father and old Rockerton had a bitter quarrel, and that a feud arose between the two families which can never be healed. “But, papa,” urged Phyllis, “it is a very long time ago, and I don’t think that a quarrel between my grandfa- ther and his grandfather should be any reason why Geo—I mean Mr. Rockerton—should not be a good hus- band to me. He is rich. I’ve always done as you've wished, and now, when I feel that my life’s happiness is at stake, you make this stupid objec- tion.” She sobbed afresh, but her tears were thrown away on her obdurate parent, so she tried to cross-examine him on the subject of the quarrel. “It must have been a very dreadful quarrel, papa, for you to harbor re- venge all these years. Tell me more about it. If my life is to be blighted,” she said, sighing deeply, “I should like to know why.” Mr. Monrough felt himself getting into a corner with his daughter’s wiles and tears, and he got a bit angry. “It was about a stream, my dear, .which ran between the two estatesl Old Rockerton insisted that the water was all on his land, whereas it was the boundary, and we had the right on one side of the stream and he on the other. But it 'really-distresses me to think about that dreadful time, when for two whole years I w:;l?:r<l about with my life in my hand, so to speak. I beg you will say no more on the subject.” “Well, just one question, papa,” asked Phyllis, with an eye to future contingencies. “Was anyone killed?” “No. No one was killed,” answered Mr. Monrough; “but your grandfa- ther was shot in "the arm, and I can never forgive them—never—never!” II. ‘ It soon became evident to Mr. Mon- rough that Phyllis was really fretting and making herself ill about “that con- founded fellow Rockerton,” as he said to himself. He was a man of action, and determined to give her a thorough change. “Phyllis, my girl,” he said the next morning at breakfast, “how would you like to go to England for a bit?” “Oh, papa !” she exclaimed, with the most brilliant look on her face that he had seen there for along time. “That would \be delightful. You know I’vel always wanted to go across and see the . old world. But can you spare the , time?” ' “Well, no, my girl, I can’t just now,” he replied. “I am obliged to remain here for a time, as I have a speculation on which requires my presence on the spot, but Mrs. Laking is going over by the next Cunarder and she would chap- eron you to your uncle’sin Manchester, where you could stay and amuse your- self till I arrived,which probablywould be in about three months.” So it was settled, and the following week Phyllis, having first informed young Rockerton, with whom she kept up a secret correspondence, of her de-_ parture and her destination, stepped on board the mail steamship under the care of her lady friend and in due course arrived at her uncle’s in Manchester. She was warmly received by her Eng- gliSh relatives. Thomas Spander, her late mother’s brother, had a large busi- l _.'_. l ness in thecotton spinning tit/lo lnl’dau- w u E: KL‘iY, ix on. W Chester, and resided at. Birkdale, going backward and forward to his business, so that she had the benefit of the sea air. that. with that, and her voyage over and her new surroundings she in a very short time resumed her old healthy look; “she seemed to have ell-- tirely forgotten her love affair." She also,-of course, frequently wrote to her father. In one of her letters she said: “I am awfully comfortable here. Everybody seems to do everything pos~ sible to make me happy. Uncle Thomas’ son George is at home from the univer- sity, where he is studying for the church. He seems a very nice young man, not at all solemn, as one would think, and he plays tennis lovely. He returns to Cambridge to-morrow.” “Um!” reflected old Monrough, as he read the letter. “That’s more like it, now! But I’d rather she didn’t marry a person. Still, if they knock their heads together, I won’t stand in the way. I’ll give her plenty of money, and” (he had rather vague ideas of church matters) “it’ll get him a dean- ery or a bishopric, or something.” Phyllis had been in England for two .months, and everything had settled down quietly, when Mr. Monrough was electrified one morning to receive a cablegram from her: George has come all the way from Cam- bridge. Wants to marry me Immediately. Do consent and make me happy. PHYLLIS. “Well! this beats cock fighting!” murmured Mr. Monrough, as he stared at the message. “He must have fallen very deeply in love with her, indeed. Oh, I consent. But how about the set- tlement? I suppose that Tom Spander reckons on my doing what is right, anrl so I will. I wish I could get over, but I’m stuck fast with that confounded lspeculation for another month. .It might lose me a million if I left it, and I can’t afford that. ‘Well, here goes!” And he sent this reply telegram: Don't understand the hurry, but I con- sent. Am very pleased. Vu'ish every hap- piness. Cannot leave here for a month. Tell uncle I will arrange handsomely. MONROUGH. III. Ten days after this message, on the morning of the arrival of the Cunard steamship at New York, Mr. Monrough was sitting in his private office when the door opened and in walked his daughter, leaning on the arm of a very well-set-up young man— of course, her husband. A The old man jumped up. “Well, this is a. surprise!” he shout- ed. “What on earth made you in such a hurry to ‘get married? Ah! well, I was young myself once, and I know when I fell in love. with your mother 1 was in a deuce of a hurry to getmar— ried.” - “Oh, papa!" murmured Phyllis, as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “It was so kind of you to give your consent. I am so happy. I thought you would, though, when you knew whata long way George had come to seek me!” “Oh, well, I guess it’s not such a. very long way, after all,” replied her father. “England’s only a little place altogeth— er, you know.” “Well,” said George, “that’s true; but it’s nigh upon 4,000 miles before you get there.” ‘ “W'ell, George, my boy,” he said, as he shook his hand in a hearty grip, “I’m truly glad to have you for a son- in-law. And how’s your father?” “My father?" echoed George. “He’s been dead this ten years or more.” “What does all this mean ?” cried Mr. Monrough, in amazement. “Am I mad, or what is it? You have just left. your father, my brother-in-law, Tom Spander, in England, haven’t you?” Phyllis threw up her arms and, with a wild shriek, fell down on the thickest part of the soft fur rug that lay before the fireplace, in what appeared to be a dead faint. “My name is not Spander,” said George, hurriedly, as he rubbed his head with one hand and supported Phyllis with his disengaged arm; “My name’s Rockerton, and I went all the way from Harvard university in Cam— bridge, Mass, to England to secure your daughter.” The pen refuses to record Mr. Mon- rough’s forcible language when he was thus suddenly made acquainted with the fact that he had given his consent to his daughter’s marriage wit-h the son of the family to which he had sworn deadly hatred, and the very man he had before refused, while all the time he had thought Phyllis was marrying George Spandcr, his brother-in-law’s son. For about five minutes the place would hardly hold him, and his anger was such that he took no means to re- store his daughter, leaving her new- found husband to “bring her round” as best he could. However, by the time he had roared himself out of breath he saw the futil- ity of his further opposition and re- sentment, and, like. the good business man that he was, he veered round and met the wind as it blew. “Well! well!” he said, “I’ve been done, but what’s done can’t be helped.” He then turned to assist Phyllis, but by a strange coincidence that young lady had just come to, and in a burst of hysterical tears, begged forgiveness for the little misunderstanding. “I forgive you, you little witch,” her father cried. “But I have my sus- picions about the misunderstanding.” And Mr. Monrough has never been able to decide in his own mind whether it was accidental or of malice prepense on Phy-llis’ part that the misunder- standing occurred. He has on several occasions tackled his daughter on the subject, but she has always managed most skillfully to evade the question, and as she and her husband are the happiest couple imaginable, and “George is not such a bad chap after all," Mr. Monrough has long since ceased to inquire into it and has also, of course, buried the hatchet with the Rockerton family.——Tit-Bits. w ~ I ~ } S’EASHOREBURGLARS Early Sunday morning the watch- man employed to watch the cottages on B *1! Island discovered that the glass and window sash had been broken out of the window of the cottages of Rev. W. H. Tboaws and E. B. Mucous at Hickory Bluff. A further examination revealed the fact that the intruders had ransacked both cottages from cellar to gctret. . Word was at once sent to Chief Voll- mer at South Norwalk, who telegraphed the owners notifying them of the burg- lary. . Entrance was made by taking a large stone and smashing the windows, frame and all, some of the glass being found half way across the room, where it was sent by the force of the blow. On Thursday night the barn door at the Thomas cottage was found op: u, but not suspecting the house had been visited the houses were not inspected, the belief being that tramps had occu- pied the barnl over night. It is now thought that the houses were burglar- ized on that night. As Rev.:Mr. Thomas is in Boston and Mr. Magnus in New York, it cannot be learned what has baen stolen from the cottages until they come here and make an examination of the premises. His Face Bruised. Principal Whitlock, of 21 Wilton Acud- emy drove to this city Sunday, With one of his pupils whose face had the up- pearauce of having been struck by a pile- driver. He visited the office of a Wall street physician where the Iad’s wounds were dressed. All those con- cerned are reticent as to the nature or cause of the wounds, but that they were of a severe nature was ev1dent. ALKeGAZETrE‘ An Old Household Memorial. The past week saw buried the last. Norwalk residing representative,“ in one line, of a once large family in this town. Two hundred and one years ago last Thanksgiving week. there was a triple marriage in Stumfond. Eliza- betb, one of the wedded daughters on that. occasion, had taken for her hus- band the young John Boalt of West- chester county, and the two came to Norwalk and founded a home close by the Reed farm at Five Mile River. From Richard, the oldest son by this union, have descended some of the wortbiest and wealthiest families in the vvest toLdov. The late Miss Harriet F. Daskam had also descent from Richard through his grandson David, who mat- rial a daughter of Paul Taylor of West Norwalk. While the spirit of Miss Daskam was passing hence last week, there was just. budding forth, in all the beauty of returning spring, a shrub that stands inc meadow on the western slope of the Indian sachem Winni- pauke’s ancient home seat. The hand that set out that shrub has long been mouldering under ground and the Boalt heartbstoue for the adornment of which the plant was caused to grow, has long been a min. The generations of men come and 20. The Boalt family, in name, is no more in Norwalk, but the‘ Boalt blossoms still remain. .0.- Foreign Mushrooms. Among other packages that Letter carrier Percy Glendenning had to de- liver this morning was one that gave him the freedom of the walk, and the perfume of which was after of roses as compared with limburger cheese. It contained what was alleged to be dried Italian mushrooms. It. was with a sigh of relief that the carrier dropped it at its destination. MADE RIGHT Handsomest Woman in the World with hard work will soon look old and faded. To keep young and do your work easily .and quickly use CHEWS RIGHT SMOKES RIGHT [1 W11]: vo ri ne WASHING POWDER THE J. B. WILLIAMS C0., Glastonbury, Conn. Makers of Williams' Famous Shaving Soaps. A choice cake of Olive Oil Soap will be found In each pack- age of IVORINE Washing Pow- The “.A'.1 ll... will, he New York Weekly paper of the country, but 18 Its campaign news and All the news of the day. Reports, Short Stories complete ‘11 ea<h Family Paper. (both papers), FBESIDEHYY tyii’EDTéldins ' 'i"- Tribune _ . tre-emimmly a minor :11 family newspaper. discussions will int: rest everyrmerican Citizen. Foreign Correspondence, Agricultural De pa-rtment. Market . _nrmber. elaborate descriptions, and a variety of items of ness principles. which will bring pron-exit: lo I T PREPARATIONS FOR Great . , Battle Of November 3 are already well under way. A New . :25, . m ' as“ - am ‘-' “J Is to beIElected, and the . . THE . . NEW YORK as always. be found in the thick est of the firht, battling vigox ously for sound busi- Weekly Tribune he nalicn. _ , is not only 1he leading Republican ( ( mic I iclure 3. Fashion Plates yvith hots hold interest, make up an ideal We furnish The Gazette and New York Weekly Tribune CASH IN ONE YEAR FOR ONLY $ I .00, ADVANCE. AMAW THE GAZETTE. Write your name and address on a. postal card. send it to Geo. W. Best. Room 2 Tribune Building, New York City, and a sample copy of THE NEW YORK "WEEKLY TRIBUNE will be mailed to you G A, FRAME. THE HAIR CUTTER - The Norwalk Fll‘fl Insurance Cl Has now Completed ts 32d SUCCESSFUL BUSINESS YEAR, . And has not. outstanding a dollar of unnai ‘ losses or claims for losses. No sound com.- , any insures for less . ‘Beavan, Pres; G. B. Sr. JOHN, i. I. No. l~ Gazette Building, Norwalla _. Gno.R Cowrnsfieo’v. HOT AND COLD BATHS 1: 1’ Trees . RE CRUMFLED ROSE LEAF. ...-- 4M. , o- BY ELEANOR BYERS. , W. If. ' _ r The well-known buy at Algiers was most delightfully still. The sun. glint- cd down on the white sails of a yacht lying a mile or two out, making the brasswork glitter and the pretty little breakfast-table, set under the awning, look most cool and inviting. It was charmingly arranged a deux, and every- thing, from the delicate eggshell china to the little rat-tailed spoons, was of the daintiest description. Everything around looked so calm and quiet; it seemed almost as though a spell lay over it all, and the ship were about to sail into an enchanted city—the bril- liant blue of the Mediterranean, and the cloudless southern sky, with the white roofs and Orange groves of Algiers in the distance, making up a picture worthy of a fairy-story! At least, so thought the man and woman who were leaning against the rail watching a tiny boat which was slowly making its way out to them. The woman held a big scarlet sunshade over her, to shel- ter her fair curly head and sweet mo- bile face from the sun. ;'- “Famcy, Harry,” she was laughing, “just a month to-day since we were married! What a charming remem- brance! and what a. lovely idea of yours to have all those flowers brought over to decorate the ship with for to-night!” The sun beat down on the little white hands holding the parasol, and made the brilliant rings upon them glitter again. “We’ll begin at once, as soon as he comes,” she went on. “I think a festoon of big yellow flowers would look splendid over the saloon door.” “Oh, no," answered her husband, laughing; “we won’t begin at once, we’ll lime breakfast first, and a look at the papers; in fact, don’t you think it will be too hot for us to do anything, little woman? I meant to let Williams do it all, and we could sit in our deck- chairs and direct him, you know!” “You lazy old thing!” she cried. “I do believe you get worse and worse every day, and the idea of wanting to look in papers when you’re on your honeymoon! I never heard of such a thing.” “Well, I’m sure you were as eager as I was for the letters this morning,” he laughed; “it would serve you right if there were none, keeping me waiting all this time for my breakfast, too,” and he cast a longing and sm ling look towards the little table under the awn- ing. "Don’t go yet. Harry,” she said; “he’s just ccnzing now,” and even as she spoke tin; Loat drew up at the yacht’s side. it was, indeed, a goodly cargo that she carried, baskets of oranges, bananas and purple grapes, whilst the ot-lmr end of the boat was a mass of brilliant bicssonts, ::;d on the seat be- side the tall swartliy African lay a precisns little packet of letters and .newspap; '. 3. “Oh,” gasped Molly. who was an art- ist in a small way; “oh, what aglorious mass of color, what lovely flowers!” Meanwhile the men carried the has- kets on board, and Mr. Astley, with his letters, walked over to the table and sat down in a low deck-chair. “Now, sweetheart,” he said, “you’ll give me a cup of tea, won’t you? Here are two letters for you, do come and sit down!" ' But Molly was kneeling beside the flowers, burying her face first in one basket, then in another; and had to lie coaxed away and comfortably installed in her Chinois wicker chair by Ilarry himself before she would settle down to breakfast and her letters. Such a pretty picture as she made! her white dress and scarlet parasol standing out against- tne deep blue of the sea, and be- hind. her the large baskets of flowers and fruits. . They were both engrossed in their posts; she, reading her first letters from home since her trip, he, looking over the latest town news and reading eagerly” all that- had happened in his beloved London during the three weeks he had been away. Sometimes he looked up with a smile, and read her out a bit of news, and asked how her moth- er Was, and the boys, and atlast, finish- ing off his tea with a sigh of satisfac- tion, he handed her his cup to refill. “How perfectly delightful it is here he said, looking round on the beautiful scene, and then letting his eyes rest lovingly on his wife; “and I think you look charming pouring out tea,” he added, wit-h a laugh. “Fancy paying your wife compli— ments after having been married a month!” she smiled; “you are not keep- ing up your role of old married man.” “I can’t do that at the expense of truth,” he answered; “and you know I always had to say out what I thought. But you have a tiny frown, sweetheart; what’s the matter? no bad news, I hope?” he said, quickly. “Oh, no,” she returned. “This is a letter from Olga, and she always rubs me_up the wrong way, somehow. She says: ‘I presume you are having a per- fect time; now tell me what is the crumpled roseleaf in all this happi- ness ?—for one there must be!’ And I thought for a moment, if ever one should come, if it could go on like this always without changing. It seems too good to be true.” she added, in a low tone; “but there is absolutely not even a crumpled roseleaf so far.” “No, dear,” he said, quietly, bending down and kissing her hands; “there is no serpent in our Eden!” It was only afterwards he reméin- bered the bitter irony of fate that prompted those words, and they were soon absorbed again in their letters and themselves. The men were down- stairs in the cabin, and no one noticed the tiny black adder which had crept from the basket of flowers, and now lay sunning himself on the deck just be- hind Molly’s chair. The warmth of the sun made him quite live-1y, and he " “’Z'I’usz'. 32%,:- 33’25-1‘vi'. '99 disappeared under the chair. Suddenly she sat up with a sharp cry. “Oh! Harry, something has hurt: my foot," she said; and, looking down, there lay across her insfep the little snake, its head firmly fixed into the silk stocking. With a muffled exclama- tion of horror Harry tore it OE, and flung it into the sea; the pretty white foot lay bare, and seen through the rent in the stocking were three tiny red punctures. Mr. Astley rushed down the cabin steps in a mad hurry. “Williams, Williams," he called; “you must "go on shore at once, at once—do, you hear? Mrs. Astley has been stung, by a snake, go and bring a doctor as quickly as ever you can.” Coming back, he took up the huge basket bf flowers, and pitched them overboardfi then, taking poor Molly in his arms. he carried her to her cabin, when. her maid bathed the poor little foot. It was swell-ing already, but there was no pain. “I’ll sit on the deck till the docmi‘. comes, Harry,” she laughed. “Please don't. worry, I don’t believe it was any- thing but a. common adder.” 49 But when the boat brought the doc- tor, in about an hour, he looked very grave. - “I cannot say anything for some' time yet,” he said, after examining the sting. “I don’t like the entire absence of pain. Can you not describe to-gne what the snake or adder looked like?" An 31-, ,. 1 without looking, and was in $110.11 a state that he could absolutely r'n1em- ber nothing. Gradually poor Molly got worse, the swelling increasedand-a terrible numbness, which crept @9le right over the body, set in. The d‘lc’W}: stayed on, but more for the sake of Mr. Astley, who was beside himself with grief, than for Molly, who lay quite still and quiet in a. kind of stupor from which nothing could rouse her. About six in the evening she awoke, and faintly asked for her husband. “Dear love,” she said, putting her arms round his neck, “try not to take it too hardly, if 1—” but Harry left her and rushed on deck. “Good God, Wilson,” he cried, to the ‘ doctor, “can’t you do anything? Let’s have some one else, let’s—" his eye fell on the native who had brought over the flowers in the morning, standing talking to Williams, and, in his frenzy, he turned on him. “You black scoundrel,” he said, going up to him, “do you know your careless- ness has killed my wife? If she dies, I’ll have you thrown into the sea!” “Master Harry,” said the staid Wil- ‘liams, who had been with his master since he was a boy, “don’t hurt the man; he’s a native, and these natives are sometimes very clever with medi- cines; perhaps he can do something for my mistress!” “God bless you for thinking of it, Williams,” he said, in a broken voice; “you tell him, you can understand his jargon,” and h-éwent down again. to Molly. . ' I’Villiams explained as well as he could what had happened; and the man, with a glimmer of understanding, thought he could see. what kind of a began creeping about, and gradually \ | snake it was from the wound it had in- flicted. He was accordingly shown into I Mrs. Astley's cabin, and after looking . f at the punctures, at once hurried away, ‘ saying he would bring something, but I he was afraid, he confided to Williams, I that it vas too late. ; Most of us can call to memory some Itime in our lives, some special hour, ; when every moment seems a. you r, and Tthough a suppressed excitement fills us, yet we seem unnaturally quiet, ,waiting —— waiting ——~ we know not -whether for life. or death, for happi- l ness or misery to fall to our lot. ' i If Harry Astley had been asked which was the supreme hour of his life he would without hesitation have said this one—when he sat beside his l wife’s bed in dumb agony awaiting the ,return of the man, wondering if he would be in time, for poor Molly seemed to be losing strength with every breath, and wondering, too, if he could do any good when he did come! At last, after what seemed to the worn—out man a perfect eternity of wait-ing, the native returned. His method seemed to Harry alarmingly simple for such an extreme ca:e, as it merely consisted in putting- a few drops of a particular juice into the three punctures the adder 'had made, but to his delighted astonishment, as well as the doctor’s, in half an hour Molly was sleeping quietly, and the swelling was already greatly decreased, while Mahomed Nani, the African medicine-man, left the yacht consider- ably richer than when he came on to it!. It was a. very pale little Molly who was sitting a. week later at the same; breakfast table, opening a little pack- age her husband had just- given her. It was a bracelet in the form of a tiny gold add-er, with gleaming ey' :‘ of emeralds; and on its quivering gs. jgue lay a crumpled roseleaf of rosy ena- _cl. “How beautiful! Harry,” she said. “Thank you a thousand times, and are they actually clever enough to make such a thing in that bazaar in Algiers?” “These eastern people are consum— mate masters in the art of jewelery, dearest,” he answered; “and now, when my little wife wears this, may it always be the only crumpled roseleaf in her happiness—the solitary serpent in our Eden! ”—Madame. How Japs Launph Their Ships. The Japanese apply one of their- pretty ways to the launching of ships. They use no wine. They hang over the ship’s prow a large pasteboard. cage full ‘of birds, and the moment. the ship is afloat a man pulls a string, when the cage opens and the birds fly away, making the air alive with music and the whir of wings. The idea is that the birds thus welcome the ship as she begins her career as a thing of life.——Ut-ica Observer. —Grace leads the right way; if you ~choose the wrong, take it and per- ish, but restrain your tongue; charge your willful suicide on God’s decree.~- Cowper. But poor Harry had flung it away. ' a not, with light sufficient and left free, '
Norwalk Chronicler