better one life lost than a dozen. Her feet seemed bolted to the ground. She must stay and see him killed, and by her own hand.

The rails began to murmur with the tread of the advancing car now rushing furiously onward to destruction. Ah! why had she not thought of it before?

The cross-over switch! Could she reach it in time she might save him. She snatched the key from the switch and ran with frantic speed down the line. She never knew how she opened that switch.

With moans and cries she threw herself across the line and began to run down the other side. Could she reach that switch before the car? Its roaring rang in her ears. Panting, with almost bursting bosom she reached the switch, opened it and stood clinging to it as the car came thundering over the viaduct.

He had

She looked up at her lover upon the car. seen and understood the change in the switches. His car, helpless though it was, would cross over to the down track and roll harmlessly along the level line till its force was spent. He was saved, and by her ready wit and skill. The passengers in the train were also saved.

She had saved him. Love had been her inspiration. Great heavens! what's that? The express! The down express was coming.

All was in vain. He was lost. She saw him throw up his arms in despair. The very plan she had devised to save him would be his destruction. Better far to have thrown him off upon the siding as she had intended. Now he would meet a more dreadful death and the destruction would include scores of lives instead of a dozen.

All this flashed through her mind like as lightning. She felt her knees give way beneath her and she clung to the switch in despair. She shut her eyes to hide the coming disaster.

Hark! The whistle of the express. They had seen the imminent collision and were doing their best to avert it.

She, too, must do something. With a bound she sprang to the next switch, tore it open and stood panting and moaning beside it with the bar in her hand. She must save the train even if she buried her lover under the splintered wreck of the car.

Onward came the car, thundering over the viaduct and just ahead of the train. It turned quickly at the switch, crossed over and shot past her into the siding. He had one look at her upturned face. It was full of love and helpless misery. She was sending him to certain destruction—to save the express train.

The instant the car passed she closed the switch and sprang back again to the other switch and closed it just in time to see the express train sweep past in safety.

In an instant the helpless car ran into the freight-house with an awful splintering crash. The express pulled up opposite the station, and in a moment a crowd of people ran shouting and frantic up the line. Some of them had seen the whole performance and knew what it meant, but for the majority of them it was a tragic mystery.

They found Lydia upon the ground by the switch, and with the keys still clutched in her hand. What had she done? What had happened to her?

She could not answer. Nature had mercifully taken away her senses. They took her up tenderly and carried her to the station and laid her upon a seat in the waiting-room. The passengers of the two trains crowded the room and offered every aid, for in some vague manner they began to understand that she was their creditor to the value of all their lives. She had paid for their safety with costly sacrifice.

The freight train backed down to the cross-over switch and the engineers of the three trains met and began to examine the positions of the switches. A number of men also came from the express train, and among them was one who seemed in authority. He, too, examined the line carefully, and the engineers explained the mat

ter to him, and listened to his remarks with becoming deference.

The little room in the station was packed with people, idlers and others, and they could with difficulty bring him in.

"No," said one of the ladies who were trying to restore the girl. "It may be too great a shock for her. She must not see him yet."

"Make way there, gentlemen. The superintendent of the road is here."

The crowd moved slightly, and the superintendent advanced into the room. He took off his hat and spoke quietly to the people near, and then he stooped over the unconscious girl and softly kissed her like as a father.

"She saved all our lives and I fear she thinks she paid dearly for them."

is

Suddenly she opened her eyes and sat up bewildered. "Where is he? Is he much hurt? Oh! Perhaps he

"Let me alone, I tell you," cried a big, bold voice in the crowd, "I must go to her."

He escaped from those who would detain him and in a moment was beside her.

Some of the people laughed in foolish joy, others cried. The more delicate and sensible were silent, for the meeting was not for words or description.

After a slight pause the superintendent said to the young man:

"I congratulate you, sir. You were on the car?" "Yes, sir. I was on the car and I saved myself at the last moment by jumping off. I landed on a pile of fine coal and got a rough tumble-and that was all. The car is a heap of splinters."

Then the superintendent called the young man nearer to him and spoke to him privately, and presently they both shook hands as if greatly pleased over something. The young man sat down beside the girl and whispered in her ear.

"I've got the place, Lydia. We're all right now." Then the bells rang, and the people began to disperse toward their trains. As they departed, a small creature— probably a stockholder-objected to the proceedings and remarked to the superintendent that "it was not best to give fat offices to brakemen for doing nothing."

"Precisely," said the superintendent. "But the woman did something, and if you wish to know the full measure of her splendid deed, go put yourself in her place."

ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.-W. S. GILBERT.

Macphairson Clonglocketty Angus McClan

Was the son of an elderly laboring man;

You've guessed him a Scotchman, shrewd reader, at sight, And p'r'aps altogether, shrewd reader, you're right.

From the bonnie blue Forth to the beastly Deeside,

Round by Dingwell and Wrath to the mouth of the Clyde, There wasn't a child or a woman or man

Who could pipe with Clonglocketty Angus McClan.

No other could wake such detestable groans,

With reed and with chaunter, with bag and with drones:

All day and all night he delighted the chiels

With sniggering pibrochs and jiggety reels.

He'd clamber a mountain and squat on the ground,
And the neighboring maidens would gather around
To list to his pipes and to gaze in his een,
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen.

All loved their McClan, save a Sassenach brute,
Who came to the Highlands to fish and to shoot;
He dressed himself up in a Highlander way;
Though his name it was Pattison Corby Torbay.
Torbay had incurred a good deal of expense
To make him a Scotchman in every sense;
But this is a matter, you'll readily own,
That isn't a question of tailors alone.

A Sassenach chief may be bonily built,

He may purchase a sporran, a bonnet, and kilt;

Stick a skeän in his hose-wear an acre of stripes-
But he cannot assume an affection for pipes.

Clonglocketty's pipings all night and all day
Quite frenzied poor Pattison Corby Torbay;
The girls were amused at his singular spleen,
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen.

"Macphairson Clonglocketty Angus, my lad,
With pibrochs and reels you are driving me mad.
If you really must play on that horrid affair,
My goodness, play something resembling an air."
Boiled over the blood of Macphairson McClan-
The Clan of Clonglocketty rose as one man;
For all were enraged at the insult, I ween,
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen.

"Let's show," said McClan, “to this Sassenach loon
That the bagpipes can play him a regular tune.
Let's see," said McClan, as he thoughtfully sat,
"In my Cottage' is easy—I'll practise at that.”

He blew at his "Cottage," and he blew with a will,
For a year, seven months, and a fortnight until
(You'll hardly believe it) McClan, I declare,
Elicited something resembling an air.

It was wild-it was fitful-as wild as the breeze;
It wandered about into several keys.

It was jerky, spasmodic and harsh, I'm aware;
But still it distinctly suggested an air.

The Sassenach screamed, and the Sassenach danced;
He shrieked in his agony, bellowed and pranced.
And the maidens who gathered rejoiced at the scene,
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen.

"Hech gather, hech gather, hech gather around;
And fill a' ye lugs wi' the exquisite sound.
An air fra' the bagpipes-beat that if you can!
Hurrah for Clonglocketty Angus McClan!"

The fame of his piping spread over the land:
Respectable widows proposed for his hand,
And maidens came flocking to sit on the green,
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen.

One morning the fidgety Sassenach swore
He'd stand it no longer-he drew his claymore,
And (this was, I think, in extremely bad taste)
Divided Clonglocketty close to the waist.