0U K LI \ ED. I often hear it spoken now. the name That once had power my inmost soul to thrill, To kindle all my face with sudden flame, And a‘l my heart with secret rapture 1111. I listen calmly to it, wondering Where vanished tL ey—these old-time hopes ' and fears That used to blanch my cheek or swifilxbriag Before my sight a blinding mist of tears. I meet the eyes now, tranquil, unconcerned, Where once a single frightened glance I stole— Those eyes that long ago a pathway burned Into the inner temple of my soul, I hear that old, familiar voice, unmoved Whose faintest tone was mu 410 in that day; No quickened impulse proclaims the voice beloved, . My quiet heart goes steadfast on her way. No bitterness, no shadow of regret Comes up to mar my peace with secret doubt; I would not live the peat again, nor yet Be quite content to hav: it blotted out. Wan )Iem’ry, hovering near the far-off grave or our yellng love, calls back, across the waste. That all she finds is cold and lifeless, save The few pale, mourning flowers herself has placed. 8136p on, thou short-lived love; thy grave is liner); 'l'hy life was bitter, but thy rest is sweet; Though o’er thy burial place none pause to weep, It is approached by none save unshod feet. ——From Racket. WHAT THE SEA TOLD HER. “Miss Grace, I have just received a letter from your guardian." said the lady principal, detaining Margaret, as she was passing through the hall. “ I have one, too, Madame Robbins,” said Margaret. . “ Ah! then he has mentioned—” “Yes, madame, he says I am not to come home this vacation, as usual, but to go with you to Ocean Cliff,” said Miss Grace. “ Quite right!" and madame inclined her head aifably. “I hope the arrange- ments pleases you, Margaret?" Margaret’s line. face flushed. “I can't say that I had not rather go home, madame. But I have no doubt ymy guardian knows best. And I shall ttrvand enjoy the visit to the seashore with yen.” “ We will make it as pleasant as we can for you. Margaret, said madame," graciously. "' Thank you, madame." Margaret spoke pleasantly, but she serushed bac'z some tears as she ran up to her own dormitory. All lhe girls were going home except l‘hei; '1‘ hey were in a merry bustle of :prepuration, packing trunks and boxes, lend exchanging farewell gifts and prom- ises, as girls always do at the close of school. There was anew departure every hour. All were going, except a girl from Cali- fornia, and one from Cuba, for whom the journey was to long. It was all very well for Miss Duncan and Miss St. Joe to stay—but for her, 'who lived hardly a hundred miles aw.-v, it was too bad. “ Yes. too. bad! ' she repeated, the :tears welling up anew and blind-ing her ~guardian's letter when she tried to re- read it. Among other things he said :— “ I am sorry, Margaret. for'the neces- sity, but I must ask you to defer your usual visit home, for a few weeks, at .least. My sister, Mrs. Abbey, and her .son Joe, have invited themselves to visit she. I cannot send them away, and I do not choose to have you in contact with a young man of Joe Abbey’s _ character. I shall consign you to the care of Madame Robbins for a short time. She informs me that she intends going at once to Ocean Cliff. I have sent her, with your school bills, a check sufficient to cover your expenses, and desire that you go “with her. I may see you there, and ex- :plain further." ' ' ' “ His sister and her son, must be queer :people. if I am not to be associated with them, and kept away from home on their account !” cried Margaret, indig- nantly. as she put away the letter. “I think Guardy Somerville must be a—” But Margaret's lips would not utter the word “ fool ” of her dear guardian. She remembered how he had taken her, a little orphan of six years, from her .dying mother, who was his old friend and schoolmate, though a few years his .senior. How- he had surrounded her with every kindness, dressed her richly, sent her to the best schools, and done all that the most indulgent parent could have done for her. And that was why she felt her banishment so keenly. “I wouldn’t mind if he had only come, and let me see his dear old face," she said, “but to send meoff without one hour's warning, and just a cold, little :letter, oh, how angry I am! And if he does not come to Ocean Cliff, I mean to punish him well! I suppose he won’t .come until his fine company have gone. Inever heard him speak much of his sister, but it seems very odd that he doesn’t want me there while she is! Per— haps I should be in the way of their fes- tivities. Oh well, I don't care! I can live without'him as long as he can with- out me! I don’t care, I'm sure ! " But in spite of all her ”didn’t cares," she went to Ocean Cliff with madame, in quite an indignant, injured frame of mind. Ocean Cliff was not a great watering- place, but a beautiful, quiet nook among the rocks beside the sea, with some- thing of wild grandeur in its very loneli- ness. Margaret reveled in the free air and sunshine, and the trembling, tossing waves. With congenial companions she would have enjoyed Ocean Cliff greatly. But madame was too stately, and the two young ladies, Miss Duncan and Miss St. J ose, too lazy to exert them- selves, even for enjoyment. Her rambles were mostly taken alone. but she was on the beach, under the cliffs, a large por- tion of the time. She had gone down the steep stairs which led down a peculiarly rocky part of the cliffs one mornihg; and was stand- ing upon a slight elevation, the waves rrolling almost up to her feet. ' Her hands were clasped with an air of patient waiting before her, and the fresh breeze fluttered the blue veil from the little turban she were, and her lovely, thoughtful eyes were gazing far out over the restless waters, with a look of see- ing nothing. outwardly, when a step near her caused her to turn round. Lightning does not make a swifter change than came over Margaret Grace's face, when she saw the , gentleman who ”was coming towards her. He was a tail, broad-shouldered, splendid-looking man. wearing a gray traveling ulster over his black coat. . Margaret sprang from the rock upon which she stood, and rushing to him with an undignified haste, which would have shocked madame (had she seen it) flung her arms around his neck, cry- dzng :— “ Guardy! my dear guardy! I am so glad I am so glad !” “My dear Margaret i" said the deep, musical tones, as Mr. Somerville re- turned her greeting as warmly as it was given. ' “I can only stay over one train,” he said. " I merely came to see if you were well and happy here.” “I am well, but I am not happy, I am very angry at being banished from home," said Margaret. solemnly. “ You did not regret the necessity more than I did, Margaret,” said Mr. Somerville, alook of pain coming into his fine face. “ Necessity l" echoed Margaret, doubt- fully. “Yes, child. Come and sit down here, quietly, and I will explain what I know seems strange to you.” ' “It does seem strange,” said Marga- ret. ”Why,I hardly knew you had a sister.” “ That is true, child. I have never liked to speak of her. My sister Lau- rette has not been—well, a credit to her family, and years ago she ran away with and married, or says she married, a cir- cus actor, and we have never had any- thing to do with her since. I have al- ways sent her money when she asked me for it, and she received her part of my father's estate when he died. Mar- garet, three weeks ago she suddenly had the face to appear at our house, saying she had come to visit- her old home, and Icould not turn her out—with all her faults, she is still my sister." “ Oh, no, you couldn’t turn her out,” said Margaret. “ She had with her her son, Joe, 8 young man about twenty-three, who is a tight-ropeand trapeze performer in a circus." “ Oh!" cried Margaret, in unaffected horror at such people associatedwith her fastidious guardian. “More than that," said Mr. Somer- vllle, “Joe Abbey is an unprincipled rascal, and a. notorious drunkard, and I was resolved that he should not be brought into association with my pure, true girl. Do you blame me, Margaret, for bidding you not come while they stayed?” " No; I thank you,” said Margaret. “You would I think, if you knew all. I had not intended to tell you, child, but I believe I will. Laurette knew you were living with me. She knows you will be my heiress. She came, dear Margaret, to propose a marriage between you. and her son, Joe Abbey, the circus perfor- 0 met.” Margaret sprang to her feet. “Why, I would kill myself. first?’ she cried with flashing eyes, Somerville smile. “Don’t get excited, child. I was not at all afraid you would consent, though Joe Abbey is a handsome fellow. But I knew they would worry and trouble you, and I would not let you come home. “I am glad you did not," said Marg- aret. “Do they know you' come to see me?" “Oh, no. And that is why I cannot stay. I do not want them to know you are here. Laurette is very determined, and they might follow you. They think you are at school in the city, but I will not tell them where. Will you stay here, Margeret, Contented, with Madame Bobbins, until they are gone?” “Yes, since I have seen you,"-.-an- swered Margeret, readily. ' “And—Margeret, there is no young fellow here who is likely to take my child away?" “ Oh, no, no! none anywhere in the world, dear guardy! I would not leave you for any one i" “Of course I know it is likely to be sometime,” _ said he, “but I am not ready to give’you up, Margeret. I shall go home feeling better for knowing there is no danger.” “ And never will be i" cried Margeret. “‘Then " Mr. Somerville checked himseif, ab- ruptly, with the one word. And pres- ently told Margeret that, as his stay must be so short. they had better go up to the hotel, and see Madame Robbins. In an hour he was gone, and Margaret resumed her. lonely walks by' the sea. She had much food for thought. whole soul revolted at the idea of a union with one like Joe Abbey. Then from him she sent her thoughts to others, and still her heart shrank—no, no, she could not give up her dear guaro dian for any or all of them. It was so natural to be with him! He had always watched over and cared for her—she could not think of alife without him. And as she strolled and listened to what the wild waves were saying, it seemed to her that over and over they sang “Only one! only one !" and they told Margaret that no other man could ever make her life what he had made it— and could make it. . “ But he will not," she said. “ He never thought of, or cared for me that way. But I will keep my secret, and there will be no disappointment. I never need leave him. I will stay and, be his child always. That will be happiness enough for me!” . _ And so she stayed at the seaside, wait- ing for her summons home, when the troublesome visitors should have de- parted. One day her summons came, but not as she had‘e’npected. It was in the shape of a telegram from which made Mr. Mrs. Sleeper, her guardian’s house- keeper, which said, without preface or warningzn . ”Mr. Somerville very sick. Doctor fears small-pox. Are you afraid to come and nurse him? If not, come by the next train. “ Donorar Swarm.” Instantly, with white, set face, Mar- geret went to Madame Robbins, telling her that her guardian was sick, and she had been sent for to come home in- stantly. Not a word did she say about small-pox, lest madame should object, but simply gave the fact that she was called home. Madame kindly assisted to hasten her departure, and when the sun set, that evening, she was clasped in kind Mrs. Sleeper’s motherly arms on the piazza at home. ‘ “ Where are your guests?" she whisp- ered. “Gone, at the first scare!" said Mrs. Sleeper. “And good riddance, I say, Miss Margeret! They’ve made nothing but trouble. And look here, child, it isn’t small-pox at all i” “I’m very glad?’.’ cried Margaret, fer- vently. "The doctor did think, at first, there might be danger," said Mrs. Sleeper. “ But he said, this morning, it was only scarlet rash. I didn’t tell Mrs. Abbey any better, though!” she said. with a chuckle. “I got her off as soon as I could. And I knew you wouldn’t be afraid, Miss Margaret. And he is -.. mighty sick, too, child, so I did need you, badly.” ‘ He was too ill to know Margaret when she went to his bedside. The rash, aided by the worry he had been through, turned intoa fever, and ran him very close to the border-land. Her ‘ And while he lay tossing and raving. ‘ Margaret learned something. which the sea. could not have told her. but which made her resolve that when he came back to health again, she would not let false pride cheat them out of happiness forever. . But it was three months before he was able to sit up, and then she told him how Mrs. Sleeper got rid of his guests. “ But you thought it was email-pox, and still you came, Margaret?” said he. “Yes, I came. My place and my hap- piness are at your side, always,” said Margaret gently but firmly. He sighed, and then said :— “ I wish that might be true forever, child.” / Her color rose high, but she replied:— “ It shall be forever. if you wish, dear guardy." - He was silent a moment. Then he said, sadly :— 4 “ I have no right to wish it." “ You have, for I give it to you, as I will never give it to any other man,” she, said. “Margaret! Do“ you know what y0u are saying? What hope you give me?" “ I know what hope I have, Walter," she answered bravely, lifting her eyes to his. “ That you will make me your wife, sometime.” "My love! my darling! It is what I have hoped for these many years !" said he. And then he drew her bright head to his still feeble breast, and what the sea whispered to Margaret had come true ! Dogs as Sentinels. Experiments of some interest, for the purpose of training dogs to act, in time of war, as scouts, messengers and senti- nels, are being carried on with success in most of the infantry regiments gar- risoned in some parts of FranCe. The manner in. which they are educated is deserving of notice. When the animal is to act as messenger, two men are detached from a post, and walk about a mile, the dog being led by the collar. One man remains stationary, while the other returns to his starting point. On being let loose the dog immediately sets off in pursuit of the latter. and finds its way to the post with unerring regularity. To insure the delivery of despatches, a small bag, of dark material, is strapped on the animal's back. As a sentinel, the dog will scent astranger at a distance of 100 yards, and will commence growling, barking or evincing disquietude in some other manner. In order to accustom them to scouts’ duty the dogs are en- couraged to search a field or a thicket in which soldiers wearing foreign uniforms lie in ambush. As soon as the animals perceive the latter, they retreat, run- ning to the soldiers who accompany them, and thus announcing the presence of an enemy. Their instinct seldom mis- leads them and they have been found very useful as a means of communicating with patrols and detachments on out- post duty. In time of war they are also intended to search for wounded soldiers and loiterers, as well as to carry pro- visions and ammunition to outposts. An interesting sight is afforded by the spec- tacle of these four-footed soldiers at drill, under the command of a sub-lieu- tenant, and surrounded by an admiring group of vagrant curs-who do not enjoy the distinction of being enrolled under the French flag-and who contemplate their four-legged brethrenwith evident envy.—Churchma.n. AN ' AFRICAN PUMPKIN. The Gnmhen, 3 ,Plant That Grow: on the Island of Socotra. Through their many biological peculiarities the family of the pom~ pion has become known to everybody. Cucumbers, melons and pumpkins belong to the heaviest fruits, and yet they grow on a very slender stalk. But as a protection against being torn by the weight of the fruit, the trunk of the plant either creeps along the ground or winds around other plants or props that happen in its way. Bearing this fact in mind, it is all the more surprising to know that among this genus of plants .a specimen is found that deviates from the rule of being a creeper and grows like a tree. The home of the Dendrosicc'yos is the Dark Continent, and this is undoubt- edly the reason why we have not been made acquainted with it earlier. It grows on the island of Socotra, where the plant is known by the name of gamhen. Wellstedt, who visited the island in 1834, was the first to mention it in his “Memoirs on the Island of Socotra.” In 1880, Socot'ra was tra- versed by Bailey Balfour, the well known botanist, and he describes two kinds of gamhen. In the fol- lowing year Prof. Schweinfurth made a trip from Cairo'to Soco- tra, and to him we are indebted for the first pictorial view of this plant. The trunk is knoll-shaped and grows about fourteen feet high, with a diameter of three to six feet. The rind is white as chalk and perfectly smooth, and the clumsy trunks among the green shrubbery look more . like marble columns than anything else. Near Tamarid, the largest village on the northern coast of Socotra, these plants grow in such large numbers that one’s imagination need not stretch very greatly in comparing “the forest hills of Socotra with a graveyard full of marble monu- meats.” These plants attain a venerable age; Wellstedt reports having found at Kadhub, not far from Tamarid, in. the bark of a gamhen trunk, an Arabian inscription bearing the date of 1640. The fact that this inscription has re- mained intact so long also demon- strates that the gamhen does not shed its bark like our trees by the forma- tion of scabs. The wood is not solid and compact like that of the trees we know, but full of sap and cuts like a turnip. A pen-knife is sufficient to cut astair- Way into the trunk of a. gamhen, over which the flowers on the top can be reached. Aside from its tree-shape the gam- hen resembles the pampion in every detail, so far as the formation of flow: are, leaves and roots is concerned. Divorces During the Year. The superior court in Bridgeport granted 119 divorces between the open- ing of court last September and the close of the year, J une-28. The follow- ing were the causes: Adultery ’22, de- sertion 50, intemperance 26, cruelty 15, intemperance and cruelty 2, intemper- ance and desertmn 1, bigamy 1, imbe- cility 2. . .Adyertise in the GAZETTE. Advertise in the GAZETTE. Advertise in the GAZETTE. . . WEEKLYFNo-RWALK-GAZETTE. E. S. H E.S.-ll E.S. ll E. S.-—l!—E;. s E.'S.—H——E. S.—Il—E. S. ll dward Will make trade lively '- Street for a few days by offer- ing 60 dozen -' Ladies’ - Ribbed - Vests FOR SUMMER WEAR, AT THE VERY LOW 5 GENTS PRICE OF A EIEGE. ACTUAL VALUE 12%;. ALSO WILL OFFER 2000 YARDS ASSORTED’STYLES Outing Flannels, Flannelettes, and other CottonfDress Goods at 2” GENTS PER YARD. Less than oneflmlf price for most of them, Edward St :- eet, No. 5 Gazette Building. Norwalk. sconuwum Summer House Furniture of all sorts now in special demand, has a large place attention. in our current thought and Are your thoughts on low priced Bed Room Suite? If so,_turn your steps hither logical conclusions. and letus help your mind to You’ll find them in the Oak Suits at $18, 21, 25, 32, 38 and 42. Ladies’ Muslin Underwear. A limited assortment in broken sizes and slightly soiled, will be sold at prices greatly reduced. LadieS’ Night Dresses 190. 39, 59, 79,89; ‘Ladies’ Chemises 17c, 19, 39, 42; Ladies’ Skirts 40c, 46, 58, $1.19. Ginghams. Another special sale in Plaids and Stripes, at 6 and 100 per yard. - Dress Goods V A A special clearing out sale of all Spring and Summer goods at less, than half price. ' > Carpets. A few more pieces of all-wool Ingrains, at 500 per yd. Scofield 8', Hoyt’s, Nor‘walk and So. Nor-walk; Agents for Buttrick’s Skirt Forms. Patterns and Hall’s Bazar N. B. We will meet any discount in Carpets. E. GUSOWSKI, Merchant ~ Tailor. I have just received the Finest and and Largest Selection of SPRING AND SUMMER SUITINGS, TROUSERINGS AND VESTINGS. Ever shown in Norwalk. which I will make up in style and price to suit everybody. a. ccsowsax, toner Wall and Water 813., Norwalk Unlike the Dutch [Process ‘0 omen—Chemicals are used in the preparation of W. Baker ii an Breakfast ‘ cocoa, which is absolutely pure. and soluble. ' It has more than three times the strength ' of Cocoa mixed with Starch, Arrowroot or Sugar, and is far mere economical, costing less than. one cent a cup. It is delicious, nourishing, and EASILY measrap. Sold by Grocers everywhere. . W. Baker 8: lie, litrchasior, Mass-g ....-.. Nu»: PROF. J. H. Hum, Organist and Director 0) St. Mary’s Church: .—TEACHER 0F— Piano, Organ, Harmony, Singing, 'Violin and ’cello. Piano Instructions :By the German Method. Residence, 23 WEST VAVENU ,. .. ;« PUL. ‘HARD Furious. Wiggle): Min RIP PA N TS ! $1.00, $1.25 to $2.00. .. Imsdsiaste‘n‘wvhwemz: T AFT BROS, CLOTHIERS. 23 WALL STREET. NOB-WALK .Sole-Agentshere for the Pull Hard Pants Co PLYMOUTH ROCK ICE. STORES AND FAMILIES SUPPLIED. Lowns'r Barns . ..... n The Latest Styles Iof Menu - Cards, ”Dance Orders . Ball Tickets, RECEPTION CARDS, WINE -LIsTs. ShowHangers, \Nedding , Invitations. Business Cards, Visiting ' cams —AT THE—f Daily Gazette : WEB. Church and; ociety Work A SPECALTY
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