CHAPTER LXI.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 237, 14 January 1888, Page 7

CHAPTER LXI.

WHAT GEKTRUDE MET. Oh, soul, that tempest never shook. A word, a breath Juco this hath shaken. Thomas Moore. When Gertrude had pub away from her, as sin, every doubb of her husband's love, and hid confirmed herself in the faith that he had never, meant to leave her to perish, bub that their violent parting on the water had been the result of a disastrous accident, she began to sympathise with his deep distress ; yes, to feel it as keenly as if she had been an unseen witness of his anguish. , "Oh ! I must write to him at once," she thought. •' I must write to him ab once, so that he shall be prepared to receive us. I must nob let him wait in sorrow until we CQine, Oh ! I know how Gerald suffers. I know it by what I should feel if he were taken from me. " And with these thoughts she hastened to the fisherman/s wife, and procuring writing materials despatched a letter by Sallust Rowley to the post office ab St. Margaret's. On his return he. brought a letter for Mrs Reynolds. " Ib is Irom mother," exclaimed the fisherman's wife. She opened and read it all through, and then .dropped her hand upon her lap, murmuring : " Well, there !" " I hope you have nob heard ill newe, Mrs Reynolds?" said Gertrude, sympathetically. 44 Well, yes, child, ray tier .bad. To think my brother and his wife and child were on that unfortunate ship — the Messenger, I mean. And my poor brother's wife was lost. 'Pears she and the baby was pub in the life-boat with the women, and it was swamped and several of the women was drowned, and among them my poor brother's wife. But what do you think ?" she asked, turning to Gertrude, who was giving bhe deepesb attention. " What do you bhink bub bhab bhe helpless baby was saved, and that' by a young lady who was afterwards drowned herself, poor angel— a young lady of the name of— Well, there it looks like Fergusson," remarked Mrs Reynolds, lifting and scrutinising her letber. Gerbrude took bhe lebber and heldit with trembling fingers, while she examined ib. Of course sho knew bhe name was her own, even before looking at ib, Bubshe answered with a quivering voice : , " The name is Fitzgerald." " Fitzgerald ! Why, you told me yesterday that your husband wa? called Colonel Fitzgerald. And you were both on the Messenger. And if you waan'b lost you waa almosb as good as drowned when you w»s picked up. "Well?" inquired Gertrude, in a faltering voice. "Why, you never told me as you had saved my brobher's child !" "I did nob know ib was your brobher'fi chUd." "Ib was—ib was— it was you, bhen, who saved him ?" demanded bhe woman, in great agitation for her. Gertrude nodded in assent. The tears welled up to her eyes. Sh© could not speak. " The Lord bless you, my dear ! The I Lord bless you ! Oh, lam gladder and more thankful than ever bo think bhab John rescued you ! What a hearing thafe will be for John when he comes in from bhe fishing ! Well, my child, you will like bo hear bhe lebter now, I reckon." " If you please," murmured Gerbrude. " Then you may as well bake it and read it yourself, my dear. There's no secrets in 1 ie ; and maybe you may be able to make it oub bebber than "I cau," said the good woman, as she placed bne lebter in Gertrude's hands. The little lady opened it, and read, with tearful eyes, how the motherless child she had rescued from drowning had been for her sake adopted by Colonel Fibzgeraldr who had bound himself bo defray all bhe expenses of bringing up and educating the boy, and preparing him for some profession. All bhis was to be done in memory of her who had saved the boy. And the lebber wenb on to say how completely overwhelmed with sorrow the "good genbleman" seemed to be for the sad fate of his lovely young wife. Gertrude was obliged to stop reading to wipe away the tears that dimmed her sighb"My dear Gerald!" she murmured bo herself. " Oh, my dear Gerald ! You do love me ! You do mourn me ! Traibress bhab I was to have doubted it for a moment ! You never meant to leave me to drown 1 Oh ! wretch that I was to have dreamed it for an insbanb ! She wiped bhe happy tears from her sof b brown cj r es, and resumed bhe reading of the letter. Bub bhe writer, here, had taken up another theme, and when Gertrude had read this last portion of bhe letter, she paused and looked up in astonishment, inquiring : " Who is this Magdala Haddon, of whom your mother speaks ?" "Ob ! I had forgotten about that. I was so taken up with thinking about your saving my poor brother's child that I forgo lali about Magdala Haddon". ' And there now ! Well, Ido declare for it !" exclaimed bhe woman, suddenly breaking off in her discourse, and gazing wibh a new meaning into the face of Gertrude, "What is the matter now ?" inquired the little lady, with a smile. "" Why, I have been thinking ever since I first laid my eyes on your face, who it was that you reminded me of -so much. And now I, have it I"" " Indeed ! Do 1 remind you of anyone you ever knew ?"' " Yes, indeed you do." "Who was it?" '•Why, .Magdala* Haddon, to be sure. She was my foster-sister, two years' older than me. - She was born in a hospital, and put out to nurse with my mother, who Jiad just lost her own baby. And her fiends as put her to nui'se* never canrie baclc' after her, nor sent her' any money, and so mother raised -her as her pwrfj 'and kept her until she grew up and" marked a young man of the name of Adam Lackland- 1 -:" '* Adam Lackland !" echoed Gertrude, in amkzoment, as the nameiellon her ears; ' ' '' Yes, dear ~ Adam Lackland. ' They* stayed with 'us 'till' her- ''•firsb child was born, * and bheft they we'hb 6ff'tb\' Anierica to seek after that fortune as he thought she was*heiresB-bo,-and- as «it now 'pears she really was. It was, in —yes, that wa| the place — Virginia 'County, Wilde State. Well, they, left us to "go there. " h ab.3 bhlh'?^ 1 v;;,. 1 fv-:; f v-:; -;., \ _ ; ;, ''.Weaver heatd^tell^ol 'em' again' bub; barely once!,,'.' jWie'igbi^k (lefter/ ifrQm^bhem,e dabed bhe day of their arrival in New York, bhejlObhdf July^ 18-H« ahd-'theh tltey wei-e' ab . O j Ub 'tf o -= «s&£<%■* XK r W< OTtocW* said they expected to arrive there aboiit theififteenbhjo'f (ibhatf«<same^iTuls;. } » .'lAh&'we* have nevefjheatfd i^^ffil^^fflSrf^ (Jerbruat^Jfei^ti ,-?;s% m?s \smm

bhough^over .wbattsh© had heard; Sh© put together certain cpinc.idenceB,... There could be to^lMth'dt^a^at^bddoh' wdfe the missing daughter of Gabriel Haddon. But . who else was" she 1 I Was she really that poor wandering maniac, Magdala, who, forseventeen years, had been the terror and pity of Wilde county ? 'Gertrude shuddered at the .bare suspicion ; yet circumstances seemed to point to its truth. On the night of that fatal fifteenth of July there had been a great flood of Wildeville river, and much property and many lives had beenlost. Among the persons rescued however, there- was a strange, wild-looking woman, who had never been seen in the country before, and who bore the unique name of Magdala. There seems upw no room for doubt that the, wandering maniac, Magdala, was the missing daughter of Gabriel Haddon and the lost wife of Adam Lackland. But besides Ihepe who else toas she ? Was she the mother of the unknown infant found on the same morning after the great Hood, when Gertrude herself was rescued ? Our little lady's blood ran cold at the bare idea of such a relationship. She remembered the strange, passionate interest the poor mad woman had taken in her fate, even to the extent of following and. abduoting her from her husband, and this remembrance seemed to strengthen the fearful suspicion that this wandering maniac was indeed her mother. " You say I remind you very much of your foster-sister," said Gertrude in a low voice. "I may pay that, in features and expreßsion, you are the very print of Magdala Haddon,' "answered Mrs* Reynolds. " Magdala Haddon was very much darker than I am," suggested Gertrude. " Darker ? Why no, my dear ! She was tvtr so much whiter than you are," said Mrs Reynolds. " I am talking of your foster-sister," said Gertrude. " So am I, dear," answered her hostess. "But she was very, very dark!" exclaimed Gertrude, in surprise and perplexity, as she recalled the image of the swarthy gypsy she had known as Magdala. " She was very, very dark — the darkest woman, except a negro, I ever saw." " Lord love you, my dear ! whatever put that in your head? Why, Magdala Haddon was just contrariwise to all that ! She was very, very fair—the fairest woman you ever saw in all your born days ! She was fairer than anything you ever saw, except an alabaster statue ! She was said to be the image of.h^r dear mother. She was as white as a white japonica ; and her eyes were as blue as heaven, and her hair — her hair was like nothing in this world, unless it was like rays of light. Its colour was between a silver and a gold ; it was — it was— Well, there ! I give it up !" said the old woman, with a sigh of discouragement. "Was her beautiful hair silver in the sunshine and golden in the shade ?" softly inquired Gertrude, as she recalled Gabriel Haddon's description of his lovely bride. " Yes, that was it exactly ! that was just what it was like. If you had studied a month, you could not have hit it better." Gertrude was greatly relieved. This radiant picture! certainly did not suit the dark, swarthy, black-haired, black-eyed ejyngy, whom she had dreaded and avoided, under the name of Magdala. And hence the gypsy-woman could not possibly have been Magdala Haddon, the daughter of Gabriel and Lily, the wife of Adam Lack- j land, the mother of Gertrude. These facts were also supported by the circumstance that mad Magdala had denied the rescuedchild to be hers, and that Adam Lackland had declared his wife and child to have perished in a terrible disaster — no doubt the fatal flood of the Wilde, on the night and morning of that fifteenth of July. Gertrude was now deeply puzzled; for ijow it seemed not only that there had been two women, bearing the same unique name of Magdala, but both were of about the same age ; both had suddenly appeared at WildevHle on the same night, and Doth had been overwhelmed by the same flood ; one, | the wife of Adam Lackland, had been irrecoverably lost, but the other had been rescued, only to become a hopeless maniac, a houseless wanderer over the face of the earth. In the afternoon Sallust Rowley and Gertrude drove over to Dover, and being well acquainted with the American consul there, Sauust found no difficulty whatever in getting money on hi* own cheque; and they were enabled to procure complete outfit. After a light tea at the Lord Warden's Hotel, he told Gertrude that a train would ; leave Dover for London at twelve, midnight, and another at six, morning, and gave her her choice between them. "Oh! let us go by the midnight train, if that is the first, Mr Rowley, for I am so eager to set Colonel Fitzgerald's mind at rest," earnestly replied Gertrude. "All right," said Sallust, and ho sallied forth to procure tickets. As soon as the train started they sank into the sleep of great fatigue, and slept until" it ran into the London Bridge station. The stopping of the train woke them both. It was still dark night, but they secured a cab and set out for Colonel Fitzgerald's lodgings in Holland-street. With' expectation wrought up to the highest pitch of excitement, Gertrude approached her husband's lodgings. The cabman sprang down from his seat and ran up the steps to the door of a gloomy, respectable three-story brick house, whose shutters weie a)l still closed. Gertrude waited breathlessly. No response came from the darkened house. The cabman rang a louder peal and waited longer. At last an upper window was heard' to be ! thrown up, the .shutters were thrown :open, and a night-capped head was thrust out. j | "What, in the deuce, is the matter?" angrily demanded this apparition. , " Does • Colonel Fitzgerald lodge here?" inquired Sallust Rowley, who had meanwhile followed theicabman up to the door. " We\\,'hedid lodge here, but he left early yesterday morning in the company of the Rev. >Dr<: Goodwin/' answered the man. "Can you tell me 'where he went?" inquired Sallust.* ' ' r ' '/•Well, no, not exactly. The colonel has not been* himself since the fatal occurrence. The doctor thought) he must have a rouse and a change or itVould be the worse for him. So the dbotor persuaded him to go for a tour somewhere, and took him off yesterday morning.'? 1 •v, .1 . » 11 Oh} 'G'erald !"' murmured Gertrude to herself. I MOh,' Gerald ! and! had bo looked tortoajrd' to this' 1 hour to relieve you of all distress about* myself.''. "' 'hWell, cati'tyou 'tell' us where -they are goitffl'ißgulred/S^uto. -' : - '■"•" '*"' •• •I I eo'uldf ndt- »if tit» was to 'save my 'life; . c'f ObV*<B«^d»!«^M-W»tKinkoyoft»tedfl^ 'sufferedistr efcfctilHßng erV sighed G'e9trMe • st 6 s t6 her herself. "*wsw J*j outuiw^ '■ t * ';') Well," exctoimed-Sallustj^witbr a very perjturbed air, " I never was so completely *s r iJuhipea in^tM w,liole*<sotffse( of^ny^ife/M)! 1 jkn<|%nq moi^h^ri^Jieftttead *3vhas jitfep, tos takemext.r«'. {tl t f i t^ r ififli ,i- vin'ixßfi'% iir.fi J GeJtffd#Ba|%¥en rJffec^ing: s?erfe»et^iite»*et)'4rv^a 4f s&Mfe*' BSjfttoWWi

'ii dni that* 1 good' woman's mother, in which ■the latter- had spoken of Dr. Qoodwin and ColpWel Fitzgerald's x yisit to- hor , market gar&en, ' and so sho answered Sallust, say- " I think, Mi\ B^owley, that we may hear of these gentlemen's 1 movements at a market farm at Upper Norwood, where Dr. Goodwin was in the habit 1 of frequently visiting. It is not far to seek. " r , " Upper Norwood ?" said Sallust, reflectively. "Oh, yos j I know the place. I went there when last in England. It is about twenty minutes railway ride from London Bridge Station. And Dr. Goodwin has friends there, you say ? What is the name of the people?" inquired Sallust, with interest. "bobbins. And they are market gardeners, and the parents of Mrs Reynolds. You brought Mrs Reynolds a letter from the post- office; in which she spoke of Dr. Goodwin's visit to her place in Upper Norwood, and Colonel Fitzgerald's accompanying the doctor on one occa&jon. " Gertrude insisted on driving there at once and they were soon on their way. The street lamps had all been put out, so it was presumable that daylighthad dawned ; but little could be seen of it at this early hour, in the dense London fog. Before they reached London Bridge, however, the fog in the far eastern part of the city assumed a dark, murky hue, like a reddening smoke ; by which she knew that the sun was rising and that it was going to be a clear day— that rare blessing tor England. The cabman did not detain them long at the stables, where he changed horses and refreshed himself with a draught of ale and a " hunk" of bread and cheese. « - f They then drove rapidly to Upper Norwood, and after some little delay and difficulty, found their way to the " Cherries," a3 the RobbinB' place was called. Even in the midst of her impatient anxiety to hear news of her husband, Gertrude found time to admire the quaint old farmhouse, so overgrown with ivy, and so shaded with hardy vines, as to look green and fresh even on this February morning. Early as it was, the house was all open and the household was astir. Sallust and Gertrude alighted at the gate and went up a gravel walk between two rows of raspberry bushes to the deeply shaded porch. The door opened, and a woman appeared — a fine, healthy, cheerful-looking dame, in a clean blue calico dress- and white apron— in a word, Jane Robbins, who came briskly on with cheerful indifference to meet her unknown and unexpected visitors. She nodded bo tooth with rustic politeness, and then looked at Gertrude. " We have called, if you please, ma'am," began Sallust. Jane Robbins did not hear one word he Baid. She was gazing breatessly at Gertrude. "We took the libeity of calling, I say, ma'am — " The woman did not hear, She continued staring stupidly at Gertrude. " To inquire if you knew — " His words fell on deafened ears ; for Mrs Robbins remained transfixed before Ger- 1 trude. 11 If you please, ma'am," he said, now taking hold of her sleeve and giving it a gentle twitch, But without even looking at him, she brushed him off as carelessly as if he had been a blue-bottle fly, and seizing both the hands of Gertrude, turned her around, and exclaimed : 11 Magdala Haddon ! My child ! Good Heaven ! Do I dream ? Or do I really see you again after so many years ? And so unchanged by time !" "I am not Magdala Haddon," said Gertrude, very gently and compassionately — "I am not Magdala Haddon. See !" And she took off her hat, turned to the full light, revealing her soft brown eyes and braided brown hair. " Oh, no !" moaned the woman ; " I see now ! How could I have supposed it possible Magdala could have looked like you, after so many years ? But who are you, then, young lady ? You are the living image of a child I lost some seventeen years ago, except in your dark eyes and dark hair. But I beg your pardon, Miss ; I feel lam taking a liberty ; though if you knew all, you would excuse me," said the poor woman, as she sank down on a bench in the passage and put her apron to her eyes. s 'You have taken no liberty. I have done so, rather, in having disturbed you. I am a friend of Dr. Goodwin's, and we have come to inquire if you know anything about his movements," said Gertrude, true to her determination not to reveal herself to anyone before seeing Colonel Fitzgerald. "I wish to kno »v the present address of Dr. Goodwin," said Gertrude, as she sank into the seat offered her by the landlady. " Well, my dear,it is Number 8, Holland- | street." "It was, but is not now. He has left London, and his late landlady does not know whither he has gone. Oh, can you not give me some idea ?" "Stay. Yes. I have a direction he left with me, in case I should wish to write to him. I will show it to you," said Mrs Robbins, going to an old-fashioned combined bookcase and writing-desk that stood in one of the recesses between the fireplace and the front windows, and taking from one of its small drawers a card, which she showed to her visitor. Gertrude eagerly seized and read it, and then,- with a sigh of disappointment, handed it to Sallust, who read out : "Rev. Joseph Goodwin, Wilde ville, Wilde Co., Virginia, U.S.A." "This will not do us the least good in tho world, ma'am. We want to know where he is now," said Sallust. " And that, I am sorry to say, I cannot tell you. But I can tell you whore he will be on the first of next month." [ "Oh! where? whore?" exclaimed Gertrude. 1 "At Liverpool. Because the doctor told me that he and his" friend, the colonel, had engaged passage on the Asia, which is to sail from Liverpool on that day." ",Mr Rowley," said Gertrude, eagerly, "I know now what I must do. We must go back to London immediately to the office of the Cunard Steamship Company, where I must engage^a passage for mys'plf to New York in the very same^s'teamer. Then I must go down to Liverpool, to, a wait there the arrival of Colonel Fitzgerald. -He must, be there a day or two before the sailing of the steamer, and I shall meet him in Liyei;pooJ, or, ai< the latest, I shall meet him on the deck of the Asia." , ' " There ! You're right ! I always knew, you were a brick ! That's what we must do. ( But, good gracious, my dear lady, we 1 must f npt. try to get^ back ?to London until we, Have had some breakfast !" added Sal* lust.i recklessly.* t , Then,- .-turning -to • the 'marker gardener's wife, he added : "\'f| v p?haps, ! ,n?ft ) aKi, yow\coujd dirfecfcjmeto I 'stime quiet, respectable little country <inri, 5 , Vh^r&wjfrcould get; breakfast, !'% : . • - J . ■ i'/u Why, dear me ! Kaven'tfydiub'ad breakr fast yet ? And, I declare, the little lady i l'ook&quittfpale -.iVyhy*didn>i> you..teU*i&b,' • young gentleman? Of course >vyou hefe.^lTisn'fctlik6ly<ithafctl .would send a friend of dear Doctor Good* win'sjftwAy^ohii'riiy houßeto'arf inri<io'§eb' VeakTastl'tolaimedJaneßobbins;t>urstinjf * y.iU oJ^he^ooin^aqdrlbieginniiS^W 6%U> girfr

J and boy, and Bet tnem to work to prepare I a meal for her visitors. - • ' I , : After the meal' "Vms over they took a. grateful leave of their, kind hostess and left the house. " Back to London,'* was the order given by Sallust, as he followed Gertrude and seated himself at her side. , When they had crossed London Bridge, Sallust directed the cabman to drive to the Agency of the Cunard steamships, and in. fifteen minutes afterwards they reached the office and entered it. Sallust left Gertrude standing near the door, and he went up to the desk of the clerk and said : (< I wish to secure a state-room in the first cabin of the Asia, which is to sail on the first of March. Can Idoso ?" " Well, sir," said the clerk, "if you had 1 come one day earlier." "I could have done so; but now lam too lace, 1 suppose. Well, I might have j expected it. It is always my luck. Ido declate it is !" said Sallust. "You mistake me, sir. I was about to say if you had come one dity earlier you could not have got a state-room. But thismorning two American gentlemen, came in and gave up the state-room they had engaged together, by paying the usual forfeiture of half the passage money. You can secure the state-room if you choose." " Very well, then," said heedless Sallust, "I will take it." " Stay !" exclaimed Gertrude, comingforward, and then addressing herself to the agent. "Will you be so kind, sir, as to tell us the names of the American gentlemen who gave up their state-room ?" I "Certainly, Miss," said the agent, referring to his books. " The names were, the Rev. Dr. Goodwin and Colonel Fitzgerald." " What !" exclaimed Sallust in a tone of astonishment. "Is that really so?" inquired Gertrude, gently. ! "Ye«, Miss; you can see the names of the parties and the number of the stateroom recorded in this book, and you may I also see the same names cancelled in the same number in the diagram of the ship." 4 ' It is not necessary, sir ; but would you kindly tell me, if you know, why these gentlemeu, who were friends of ours, gave up their passage in this ship? That is, if you happen to know;;" said Gertrude. "Certainly. They were vory anxious to sail* by an earlier one, but found it impossible to do so, until yesterday morning, when they learned that an English family, who were going over in the Europa> would have to give up their passage on account of the extreme illness of one of the party. So yesterday morning Colonel Fitzgerald came in here and gave up his own and his party's state-room in the Asia, and engaged the two state-rooms given up by the English family on theEuropa." " When does the Europa sail?" inquired Sallust, anxiously. "The Europa? Why, she sailed this morning, 8ir !" Gertrude reeled and would have fallen, had not Salluat hastened to support her. " A glass of water, for Heaven's sake !" exclaimed the young man, as he placed hie fainting companion in the only chair in the office. " This lady had hoped to go home in the same ship with these gentlemen, who are near and dear friends of hers," said Sallust, in explanation to the agent, who brought a. goblet of water. Gertrude rallied her faculties with an effort, And inquired : "But are you sure, sir, that they really went on this steamer ?'' "Here is the list of passengers, Miss. You can see for yourself," said the agent, placing the day'B " Times " in her hands. Gertrude took it, and read the list that he pointed out, Among the names were Key. Dr. Goodwin, Colonel Fitzgerald and servant, Miss Fitzgerald and maid." The paper dropped from Gertrude's hands, and she raised them and covered her paleand agonised face, murmuring to her own heart ; " Oh, my Lord, there is a fatality in this. He still thinks that lam lost at sea ; and he is with her for two weeks to come ! The old spell will work. Can he withstand it V* "This disappointment has been too much for the lady," said Sallust, apologetically. " Well, it need not be quite a disappointment. You can take the Irish mail to Holyhead, the mail boat across the Channel to Kingston, and then the mail train to Queenstown, to meet the steamer there, where she will wait for this very train, to 1 get the last London mails before sailing. Now, if you have puck enough, and look sharp, you can do that," said the agent, encouragingly. "Oh, sir, exclaimed Gertrude, excitedly, "is there indeed a hope— a possibility of overtaking that steamer ?" " There is a 1 certainty, Miss, if you will look sharp. But you must take the noon train to Holyhead, so as to catch the evening boat to Kingston, and get the early morning train from thence to Cork, so as to meet the steamer at Queenstown tomorrow," said the agent. " Oh, sir, you cannot estimate how grateful I feel to you for this information." "Not at all, Miss. I cannot, unfortunately, give you a state-room ; but as one of the rooms engaged by your friend has t«ro berths and only one young lady passenger, of course you can 3hare her room," explained the agent. " Thanks, sir ! A thousand thanks ! Oh, Mr Rowley, let us make haste. It is eleven o'clock now. Let us hasten to secure the noon train to Holyhead," said Gertrude, pointing to the office clock, and rising in a hurry. "Plenty of time. The greatest plenty of time. We have no packing to do, no baggage to check. By the way, they don't check baggage here, I think. However, we have no impediment of any sort. So, come along, my dear lady. Good morning, sir," said Sallust, drawing Gertrude's arm within his own and hurrying to the cab. "To the Euston Square Station. And double your fare if you get there a quarter before twelve," was the order Sallust gave the astonished cabman as he put Gertrude into the cab and followed her, and took his seat by her side. "This chasing an ocean steamer is not what it is cracked up to be !" exclaimed Sallust, witha deep sigh. The cabman cracked his whip, and rattled off at a spanking pace. So great was Gertrude's state of suspense and excitement that she could not speak one word. ; The drive was performed in perfect f silence. When they drew up at the Euston square Station, the almost deserted look of the place dismayed Sallust. Putting his head out of the window, he < 'hailed a station' policeman and inquired • j Has'the' Irish mail trainstarted yet ?" \ „.•*. irpobeVontinucd.-y

Mr' SieadV colf^Maxim has t been eased • off fihfce he' ! Showed "symptoms of unsoiindn^s|. !31 His > o^iiW'fells me that he Will nofr race Kim'agaiftltiMater the seasoni s , * « ; J Owihg tb'Nels6tf shaving^ walk-ovei? foT > the *A«flßWftte«Pßit^.M^ George only i ©e'ceivedlOOSby^'ifisfceaa df the" 200feovfe'6f " added 1 mondv't'atfd 1 eweo^) ffeiven-by^the. "Club? I*1 '*'- ' ;0 inn i*' 1 '- ' ' *' •/'" <t '" M * H^ ' *"*