The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1891-10-23

at the back in broad oiled plaits confined
by large brass hairpins. Her mouth was
small, her lips thin; her eyes, which
were large and round, had the hall
vacant half melancholy look noticeable
in the eyes of beasts of burden, which
while they stretch ont their necks to the
yoke with the placid indifference of long
habit, carry in their patient, reproachful
glance silent protest against the hope
lessness of their fate.
Any one who had watched the woman
narrowly might have seen that at each
feint or subtle stroke her pupils diated
and her breath came more quickly through
her parted lips. Presently the invincible
Mazagrano had to confess himself abso-
lutely vanqushed.
The fight was over. The soldier turned
with little gesture of triumph toward
the woman and smilingly saluted hel
with a stick in military fashion.
She responded neither by look nor
gesture.
The athlete, who had remained dog
gedly mute listening angrily to the ap.
plause OF the men outside, who had
thrust their heads 1 to the tent, allowed
them to disperse orce more: then strid.
ing toward the private, who had resumed
his jacket, he placed his coarse hand OIL
his shoulder and said savagely:
Not so soon, my fine fellow. Let us
play quits. Work it out with your fists.
Wen wrestle, if you please"
The soldier looked surprised. The
woman had started to her feet. The
cloak falling to the ground revealed the
gariShnees of her circus dress and hei
bare, outstretched arms.
Don't fight him, she almost shrieked
in voice of terrified entreaty. He is
III one of his tantrums he'll hurt you.
Mazagrano turned on her furiously.
so, lac said with an ugly sneer, you're
afraid III spoil his beauty, missus. Then
facing the private again he added bru-
tally, Are you man or cowardy"
The soldier had become quite pale. He
was brave, but not over strong. and he
knew it. However, he began slowly 10
unbutton his coat again.
Don't fight with him. Don't fight"
repeated the woman mechanically and
almost inaudbly. as she sank down help
less on the wooden box.
Mazagrano crossed his arms over his
chest and stood motionless. while his op.
ponent attired himself in the wrester's
scanty apparel that had been flung at his
feet. The athletes eyes We're bloodshot.
his upper lip was lifted in smile OF
bestial ferocity, and occasionally he shot
Il Al.
before her with widened, terror stricken
eyes. The two men faced each other
and closed. Not for long. Almost at
once the soldier was thrown, both hi,
shoulders touching the ground.
Before he could even attempt to ris-
Mazagrano placed one knee on his
chest, and, seizing his head with his two
huge hands, was slowly twisting it round.
A stifled groan of agony broke from tn.
victim echoed by a piercing scream Of
despair from the woman. Then the ath-
lete arose, spurning with his foot the in
animate mass.
The soldiers spinal cord was broken.
The woman had fallen forward on her
extended arms. AS the crowd poured
iato the tent Mazasrano walked up to
her side, and, with fierce gesture, lift
ing her head, pointed to the corpse and
laughed.
\ few minutes laterhe was surrounded.
pinioned, and handed over to the rural
policeman. He allowed himself to be
ed away without protest, and was i'm
nediately hurried off by the jailor to the
nnpty tnwn f,ll,waA hx oo
group of boys, an escorted by two men,
"ho volunteered their services as anna
teur minions of the law.
There was no third performance in the
booth that night. AS the darkness fell
he glittering candles of tn. stalls wer.
i5hted the shooting gallery profited by
the collapse Of the rival entertainment,
and was crowded; the sale of liquor was
unusually brisk the stock OF the timer
ant venders disappeared rapidly, and as
It was the last day of the fair the frolic
was loud and the horseplay boisterous.
In the shadow Of the dark and empty
tent, half siirouded by the idly Tapping
canvas Of the entrance, crouched soli-
tary figure, unheeding the laughter and
shouts. the songs and the noise around
her. 1t was the woman who had juggled
with the weights. She had not changed
her dress-its pitiful finery hung about
her limbs still-only she had thrown a
cotton apron over her bowed head tina,
completely hid her face. Her whole
frame was shaken by long, convulsivc
sobs.
Were her tears for the living or IN ,
dead:-Ernest Mobray, in London Budget.
Do Some Plants Seel