Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 61, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 March 1910 — Page 3

The Quest of Betty Lancey

OspyrigM, 1909. by W. 6. Chapmss. Copyright U Qnst Britain *

C/HAPTER XVl.—(Continued.) One bit of documentary evidence that materialized In the Hackleye home »t Cairo was bruited about in all the papers. On the fly leaf of a- French Bible, In a woman's hand—an odd hand with peculiarly forcible strokes—were these entries: "Married January 10, 1899, Cerisse Corella Wayne, daughter of Desiree and John Francis Wayne, and Hamleye Hackleye, third son, of Sir Walter and Lady Evelyn Hackleye. “Born, November Ist, 1900, to Cerisse Corella Wayne Hackleye and Hamleye Hackleye, a son, Walter Hamleye Hackleye, “Born, /October 15, 19.01, to Cerisse Corella Wayne Hackleye and Hamleye Hackleye, a daughter, Paula Cerisse Hackleye.” Gradually there became fixed more •ecurely the public Idea that Hackleye had murdered his wife. And the growing impression was that Hackleye and Haroourt were one and the same, but the most inexplicable of all was the dual resemblance between the two women, but at that the Man-Aperll-ta puzzled. Mark Flanders, the old attorney from whom Hackleye had rented the house at 94 Briarsweet place, was so upset t>y the sensation in which the staid old home was figuring that he nearly went ■wild. As it was, he cut short his European trip, and came home in a jiffy to see that the beloved old homestead was not whittled to bits by enterprising sleuths who were seeking further tor secret passages and subterranean Ways. Mrs. Desterle died early In the fall and her heart-broken husband took their accumulated savings gnd went home to Paris. Harold Harcourt was atlll stifling behind the bars of the jail. The British government 'didtidr come and lead him out of captivity. Harcourt’s wife was slowly getting better in the hospital to which they had removed her. There had been ahocking days of ravings so extraordinary that the nurses had stood abashed at the horrors revealed; there had been times when Mrs. Harcourt’s strength outranked that of even the strongest attendants, 'and in her violence she had essayed to kill herself, but oftenest she was weak as a sick kitten, and lay inert and helpless on her narrow bed, moaning as if within her slender frame fermented the anguish of the world. Philip Hartley came daily to see her. His quiet presence always had a calming effect upon,, the sick woman, and she seemed to 1 recognize him. Philip called first because the paper sent him, and yet, ns tlie months drifted by and the Wayne murder mystery was relegated gradually from a first to a second, and then to a fourth and even to a fifth page place in the paper, he went because he wanted to, not confessing to himself why. He couldn’t have told. He couldn’t resist the emotion that drew him to the sick woman. The most expert doctors were called In attendance. Mrp. Harcourt’s condition was most battling. One day there drifted in an aunt of the interne, a gray-haired doctor who had done missionary work in India for thirty-five years. The interne discussed the case with his aunt, and' took her around to see the patient. The old doctor—Fothergill was her name—examined the young woman closely. “I think, John,” she said, after she had looked at Mrs. Harcourt, according to the prescribed ritual for medicinal inspection, “that the poor little thing >as been drugged to death. They do Jthetet things beneath the tropic suns very frequently. There are weird drugs put to queer purposes over there. Where they stop at murder, even by alow poison, death in life is no more than a convenience to them if they so desire. I think she’s drug-sick. Give her light food, stimulants, and plenty of morphine. It’s the best reagent I’ve found for those Indiscriminate drugs that grow over there. Also a powder I’ll bring you.” The interne quoted his aunt to the attending physicians. And because of the fame of Dr. Fothergill, which had traveled even across the broad seas and the line of sex, they listened tp what she said. They followed Dr. Fothergill’B advice and slowly but surely Mrs. Harcourt began to improve. One day she roused from her stupor, aat up and looked at her nurses. "I do not remember,” she stammered. “I cannot remember, and—l’m glad, for the hurt has all g*>ne from here.” As she spoke she pressed one hand t» her heart, and the other to her head, There Philip Hartley found her when be came an hour later. He had a glowing bubch of asters for her—lavenders, whites, soft pinks—and ashes of roses. “Sweet flowers with their colors burned away," she murmured as she reached out for them. There was the same Innocent friendliness between these two pure-souled ones as there might have been between two seraphims. “Y»«»r flowers of the north countries seem so pale—and yet so pure,” she eontinuewr-as she burled her face within the shaggy petals. “But they have no perfumes ” f.”Ah, yes. they have,” denied Hartley “We have rose gardens here; too, and violet beds in springtime, and carnations In June, when the roses are sweet; and mignonette, and flowering almond, syringa, and sweet alyssum—are have our pprfumes, too, my lady.

By MAGDA F. WEST

But they’re not musk-laden like your feverish India.” “Feverish India,” mused Mrs. Harcourt “I wonder if It is sol lam so much better to-day. I can’t remember anything; it’s all a dim, fcray waste In my head, but it doesn't hurt any more, and I’m so glad. My husband—where Is he?” It was the first time she had asked about Harcourt Hartley hesitated. He did not know whether to break the blessed peace that surrounded her. He did not know what to tell her. Finally he decided to tell the truth—a rash thing always. “Why, Miss Lancey disappeared, you know; or do you remember the young girl who went to your room that night. And the police—of course it’s foolish of them, but the police, you know, think he may know something about her disappearance, and they’re holding him till they find her.” “Is he in Jail?” asked Mrs. Harcourt “Why, yes,” admitted Philip, “but they’ve made him very comfortable. You can be, comfortable even In jail, you know. He doesn't seem to be minding it much.’ “Sometimes I have thought—of late —I don’t know, but there seems to oe a shadow between my husband and me. What is it? I know and yet I cannot telL Answer me, are there two Me’s? Else why have I seen myself walking in the garden when I was sick, so sick, and in my bed? Why have I seen myself beneath the trees caressing my husband when I was in the house with my baby on my knee? What is it? Arid why? I cannot understand at all!” Philip tried to soothe her. He feared she had overtaxed herself and blamed himself. He rose to go, but she detained him.

"No, don’t!” she pleaded. “You rest me. Just like the cool water does a weary throat. My throat doesn't burn any more like It used to. I wonder why. They don’t give me so much medicine here any more. Harold used to give it to me all the time. My head feels so much lighter than it did —as if it would blow away.” Dr. Fothergill had come In the room while Mrs. Harcourt was speaking; At the last words a triumphant look flashed across the physician’s face, and her lips formed the words, “I told you so.” ’T don’t believe I ever want to go back to India," continued Mrs. court, absently following the patterns in the ceiling. “I feel so different here. As if It were another life. And you, dear friend, you have been so kind, I love your visits so. j You must come oftener.” Philip blushed under her unconventionality. He was well aware that even under the guise of newspaper demands that a penniless S3O-a-week reporter had no right to call too frequently upon the wife of an - ndian magnate, herself possessed of a large fortune. Partlculahly when this said wife was a young, lovely and seemingly unfortunate woman. He made his adieux confusedly. Dr. Fothergill followed him out into the hall. “You must, as she says, come oftener,” the doctor Insisted, with the emphasis of all gray-haired women. “She never speaks of herself except when you are here. It Is the only way to clear this thing up. Mind what I say. And matters are muddled badly enough qow, goodness kno\Vs. What with two young jdiots —Mr. Morris and Mr. Johnson —both heading for Africa on a wild goose chase, Mrs. Desterle’s death, and the disappearance of Miss Lancey, there has been too much woe and ruin accumulated at the feet of one murder. A fine set of police they have here, I must say. Come to-morrow, Young man, com* to-morrow.” And Philip needed but little urging. His sentiments for the woman who was so slowly convalescing were far too tender to suit his reason, when he stopped to use it. ’ But Philip was young, and youth Is ever Irrational, so he counted each hour with Mrs. Harcourt as rarer than the gems that fastened her hair, or her soft lounging robes of wonderful texture and color- ' Ing. He read to her. he played that old Indian game, parchesl, with lier. and one day proposed a game of cards, but the sight of the pasteboards turned her faint, and she suffered a- sinking spell that put her recovery back for

Meta and Benoni made ready the repast. Betty and Larry and Johnny traded experiences. “Think, Betty, think hard.” urged Larry, “what was it that stole -you that night, or who, and why?” "Tell me' the whole story again,” mused the perplexed Betty. “My brain has slipped a revolution.” So the boys recounted to h«y the night in the Directory Hotel. As 1 they proceeded Betty's eyes widened, her face paled, and in her eagerness she paced the floor excitedly. “Oh, yes, yes, I remember now,” she said. “I d%nt ipto her room—what do you Bay her name is—Mrs. Harcourt? Yes! Well,‘l went In there and I pretended I was ill. And then she telephoned to the clerk and begged him to send up and get me, and then I ran, ran as fast as I could,-and at the corner—and then—well, I bumped Into something. soft and furry, and-r-aud—-don't laugh, but It smelt and felt the same as that horrid, horrid "beast—the Man-Aperilia, you know! And I don't

CHAPTER XVII.

know any more except being sick, as I told you. and waking up on board that yacht, and getting here!” "Now, who could that Le Malheureux have been?” asW Larry, “and why did they want to steal you?” ¥ “Maybe It was Benont,” suggested Johnny. He took us to her, maybe he 'brought her here.” “Oh, Benoni!” called Larry, “did yoa steal this girl?” Benoni clinched his hands at the suggestion. “I steal her?” hs raged. “And I with a wife!’’ “Nonsense,” said Betty. “He does not talk like Le Malheur.eux, and—well —I don’t feel the repulsion for him I had-for Le Malmeureux. I don’t know what it was, I can't explain it. I shiver still!" “Perhaps it was Man-Aperllla who stole you, Betty,” volunteered Johnny. “You remember you went out to the park for the Inquirer with a photographer to get the _ brute’s picture. Have you forgotten?” Perhaps he fell In love with your charms, and stole make you his bride, like Larry her® is going to do.” “He iriight have stolen me,” admitted Betty, “but, Johnny, don’t be nonsensical!” “About what?” asked Johnny. “About Larry marrying you? A man doesn’t risk his fool neck like Larry's done for you If he Isn’t going to marry the woman at the end of the risk." “Well, but you did it,” retorted Betty. _ “I know, but I had a wife to start out with, and felt I ought to get Larry tied up. too. Besides, I think it will be a joke to assist at the wedding. Oh, I know Larry hasn’t asked you yet, but then he’s afraid to. He’s planning to just carry you off.” “I’m going to draw the line at being abducted twice, till I get a prodigal’s return on the strength ot the first kidnaping,” laughed Betty. “Do you suppose that the Man-Aperilla corild have stolen me? And if so, why? I’d like to find Le Malheureux, perhaps he’d tell me. The why of things as they are is troubling me.” “We’re going to find Le Malheureux right now,” said Meta. “If we don’twe’ll never find ourselves again. We must make haste out of here, Miss Lancey.”

“Oh, call me Bettista, like you havo done,” begged Betty, mimicking the name Meta had given her in the days of their broken dialect. “I like it better,” “Anything, only make haste.” cautioned Benoni. “We cannot take you women where we men have gone. Time is life just now.” Meta aided Betty to don some heavy wraps of panther skin, brought her stockings and the dancing slippers, so economically used because they were the only shoes the American girl possessed and her feet were not Inured to the hard ground and cold stones like Meta’s. Benoni had stowed some provisions In a leather wallet and Meta carried a similar bag heavy and hard. “What have you there, my wife?” questioned the black. “A few of the jewels,” she answered, “I thought we might need them. No, there are not many left” They were an odd cavalcade. Benoni was at the head of the procession, then Johnny, close behind him. Betty, with City Editor Burton tugging at a leash, then Larry, and last of all Meta. Each of the men carried a pistol, and Meta had put a tiny revolver into Betty’s hand. They went down the steps, retracing 'their way along the same corridors down which Tyoga had brought Betty so many weeks before. In the lower passage three pigeons flew out and rested on Betty’s shoulder, hovering there an insfant, then darting away, up towards the rain-gray sky. The boat that awaited them was a smaller v model of the yacht thgt had borne Betty across seas, and .of less elaborate construction. Benoni disappeared below deck to a location similar to the one where Le Malheureux had been wont to station himself. Betty, looking backward through the archway, saw to her surprise hundreds ,f stalwart negroes embarking from a fleet of boats that had suddenly appeared upon the swollen bosom of the river. She started to cry out, but Meta’s hands closed over her mouth. The yacht ducked its nose to the water and went spinning along the tunnel. “Benoni, Benoni,” called Meta, when they had gone a distance of several rods. “They have come! They are there! I must help him,” she added to the Americans, and followed her husband below stairs. (To be continued.)

An Incendiary Lover.

A blaze was discovered in a Williamsburg letter box and the contents, about fifty letters, were charred before the fire was extinguished. It is the opinion of the police that a young man wrote a proposal of marriage to his girl and then got cold feet and set the boxful of letters on fire to destroy his own. It was George Ade who wrote this caution to young men, “Tell ’em anything you want, but don’t writ® letters.’V-Boston Globe.

Sure Enough.

Brother Wagstaff (rumlnatingly)— I won’er what de fust plug hat was invented for? Brother Sockett—Well, uh—good Lawd, Bah —If’t wuzn’t for plug hats what would dem white tragendlums an’ nigger preachers w’ar on delr heads? —Puck.

Rural Pastimes.

Subscriber—Hello, central! There’s some one listening to our conversation. Mrs. Talkafast and I can scarcely hear other. Central —I don’t think so, madam. I’ve been listening for ten minutes to see if I could detect anyone doing it.— Boston Herald. ' -

The Limit.

Randall—Sam Crusty is the closest fisted man I ever come In contact with. . Loomis—What has he done now? Randall — He failed the other day, paid 12 cents on the and wanted 2 per cent off for cash.—Chicago New*.

CANADA TO TAKE OVERFLOW.

Member (of Senate Sara United btntea Will Be Crowded la Fifty Years. Expressing tfie conviction that within the next fifty years the surplus population of the United States would be forceShJo migrate, to Canada, James Domville John, N. 8., member of the Canadian senate, visiting New York, discussed present conditions in Canada, an exchange says. Mr. Domville has served thirty-seven years in the Dominion parliament, and is exceedingly well informed upon Canadian affairs and their relation to the future of Canada and the United States. Incidentally he predicted that Canada would become a great empire. “Within the next fifty years,” he said, “the United States will find it impossible to provide room for the settlers who seek homes within Its borders. Canada Is awaiting that time, for Its undeveloped territory will be the magnet that will draw the overflow from the United States. “We like Americans and their spirit of enterprise, and while our great northwest Is filling with Americans there Is ample room for millions more, and the sooner they come the better we will be pleased. “American capital Is finding the Canadian northwest a profitable field for investment. Immense sums have been invested in timber lands and the finest sawmills and railroads in the country are owned by Americans. There is much talk about an export duty on wood pulp and pulp wood, but if such a duty Is levied it will be as a conservation measure and not in retaliation against the United States. “If the United States needs our pulp It will come to us and pay our price, to our mutual advantage, just as we come to the United States for steel rails or any other commodity we need. We have no protective tariff in Canada, our tariff being for revenue only.” Mr. Domville said further that he did not favor the plan to establish a fleet for Canada in existing conditions. Battleships, he argued, become antiquated within a few years, but the money required to build them never becomes too old for general use. Three courses were open to Canada, he said—to cut loose from the mother country, to join the United States in an alliance of peace and business amiiy, or to consolidate a Canadian empire. While Mr. Domville expressed the belief that a Canadian empire would come, there was no way, he said, to tell how the countless thousands sure to occupy North America before the end of the twentieth century would view the project.

Wit of the Youngsters

Papa—Mamma says you were boy to-day, so here’s a penny. Little Fred —Make it two. papa, an’ I’ll be gooder to-morrow. Little Lola met an old gentleman who informed her that he was 90 years old. “Well,” said Lola, “when people get that old 1 suppose living becomes a habit." “Elmer,” said a mother to her strenuous little son, “I’m awfully tired of the noise you make.” “And I’m getting awfully ..tired of the noise you make in trying to stop the noise I make, mamma,” rejoined the noisy chap.

The “Long" Sitzes.

The Sitze family was long in person, long-drawn-out in speech and eternally long about doing things. Over miles of pine hills they were known as the “long” Sltzes. Miss Lydia, the eldest, went to a crossroads store to buy Christmas presents. In the course of a half hour she became interested in some blue and scarlet petticoats. “I’ll take one of these petticoats," she said, slowly counting out the price. The busy proprietor wrapped up the parcel and handed it over with a polite “Something else?” “I’ll take another petticoat.” He did up a second bundle, took her carefully counted money, and was turning to the next impatient customer. 'Til take another petticoat,” came the slow drawl. This went on jto the seventh time. The man, being up to his ears in work, ventured a question: “Buying for the neighborhood. Miss Lydia?” “I’m buying two apiece for my sisters." “How many sisters have you?” “Nine.”

Brought Down the House.

On one occasion, when Arthur Roberts, the English actor, was perform 2 ing the part of Captain Crosstree in the burlesque of "Black Eyed Susan" at Glasgow he converted an awkward contretemps into a hit. In one of the scenes Cross tree entered supposed to be inebriated and staggered about the stage. In doing so Mr. Roberts accidentally came in contact with trie scenery of the inn, bringing the whole set down. The curtain had to be lowered, and the vivacious comedian came to the front and said, “Ladles and gentlemen, you see when we come to Glasgow we always bring down the house.”

Might Be on One’s Nose.

“Don’t get down in the mouth, old man,” said the optimist. “Look on the bright side of things.” “That’s all very well,” mournfully replied the sufferer, "hut what Is the bright side of a gumboil?” You call this a free country, but you can’t say all you think.

A RESTRAINING HAND.

(to Actios Followed by a Voleo That Waraed. “Patrick H. McCarrefl once told me of a funny incident that happened In Rome,” said a Brooklyn lawyer. "McCarren said feat on his first visit to Home, after he had seen the Coliseum and the Forum, he visited the Ara Coell Church, on the left of the Capltoline Hill. He climbed the grand stairway leading to the church, the finest open air stairway in the world. He pushed back the heavy leather certain. and, entering, he found a service ia progress. So he put his hat on the ■marble Boor at his side and took a seat “After ten minutes or so he decided hie would go and reached down for his hat. But a restraining hand was laid on his, and he desisted. He knew, of course, that some churches don’t like people to leave in the midst of a service. “Ten or fifteen minutes more passed. The service still continued. Senator MeCarren geyt impatient and again reached for his hat. But agate the unseen hand restrained him froar the rear. “A little later, however, the senator quite lost patience. This was. he told himself an important service, of course. Nevertheless, he did not propose to miss his luncheon, and it would harm no one if he slipped out quietly. “So a third time he reached for his hat, and the invisible hand a third time detained him. He persevered, however. The silent hand pushed and his silent hand pushed against it. But just as he was conquering in the struggle a voice said in good American;• “Cheese it, boss; that’s my hat you’re taking."

Legal Information

While a girl passenger was on a train she was the recipient of th« demonstrative and unconventional at tentlon of the conductor thereof. In Birmingham Railway, Light & Powei Company ~v. Parker, 50 Southern Reporter, 55, the complainant alleged that the conductor had wantonly assaulted her by grasping her by the arm and shoulder and by winking and smiling at her. It waa contended that tha count was bad In that It charged two assaults, grasping, the first, and then the winking. The Alabama Supreme Court held that one assault only was charged, and as a circumstance of agi gravation It was averred that the conductor at the same time made demonstrations which may well have been offensive and shocking. They need not "55"TgttfrB-to "constitute the assault alleged, or even any necessary part ol it, but, if proved, gave a character and meaning to the assault; and further stated that a carrier’s duty was to protect feminine passengers from obscenity, immodest conduct, or wanton approach, which cannot be frittered away by questions of whether the servant was acting within the scope of his authority. The Ohio Constitution provides that all elections shall be by ballot. In State v. Board of Deputy State Supervisors, 89 Northeastern Reporter, 33, the purchase and use of voting machines was objected to on the ground that it transgressed this provision. Cardboard ballots are attached to the machine; they do not pas 3 Into the custody of any voter, nor, by the act of voting, into the control of the officers of the election. To speak of such cardboard as the ballot of the Constitution Is obviously paying but mock deference to that instrument. However consistently with the intention of the designer the machine may operate, and however simple its manipulation may be to those who have become familiar with it, it is In contemplation that it shall be used by the body of the electors, most of whom have no knowledge whatever of its operation, and that from the necessities of the use but little time can be allowed to acquire such knowledge and understanding, one minute being the time allowed by the statute to each elector for that purpose. The Ohio Supreme Court declared the use of this voting machine unconstitutional. A Federal statute made it a crim-

inal offense to violate any rule which should thereafter be made by the Secretary of the Interior. The regulation in question prohibited the pasturing of stock within the forest reserves without a permit. In United States v. Grlmaud. 170 Federal Reporter, 205, defendant, having been arrested for pasturing sheep within a reserve, contended that the statute was void because it did not define the acts to be punished, and because it delegated legislative power to an executive officer. It did not declare the grazing of sheep to be a crime, nor make any reference thereto, but declared that whatever the executive prohibited Bhould.be punishable. There was no way by which a person examining a statute could conclude that the act referred to was criminal. The executive officer by the statute was allowed to define and determine the crimes, which, according to all the,authoritles. is a legislative affair. The United States District Court concluded that there could be no crime except those created, expressly defined, and penalized by an act of Congress, and that the indictment could not be sustained.

For the first two months of her. married life a bride keeps her expenses down to $6 a week, and her friends boast about It for twenty years. Men agree pretty well on one point; They don’t like the idea of some other l *uan spending their life insurance.

A CLAM FRITTER.

*•<»'■* U«fc m* Tmet Mar Be Omiy Vatlaelr Dr*w«ia«M. “What's become of Sally French ly?” asked Aunt Marcia. “She’s such a dear girl I*4 hoped to see more of her before I leave.” “I’m afraid you mayn’t, aunty,” confessed Louise, uncomfortably. “You Bee —well—things aren’t exactly an they were between us. There’s no quarrel, but the other day, when I was telling her something particularly confidential and Important—you needn’t laugh! It was Important to me, If It isn’t a very big secret—Sally was so unresponsive she hardly seem-d even interested, and I couldn’t help showing I was disappointed in her; and then helt feelings were hurt, and sh® hasn’t been here since.” “Dear, dear, that’s a pity!” said Marcia. “But she may have been tired, or dull, or headachey, or you mayn’t have put things clearly. I can’t believe she’s really unsympathetic. Perhaps it’s only another case of clam fritter.” ~— — “Another case of what?” said Louise. “Haven’t I ever tatfd you that story? I thought It was almost a byword in the family. It happened long ago. Just before I became engaged. Some silly, disparaging remark I’d mad® about Tom, the way girls will, Just for fear people would guess I was fond of him, had been repeated and distorted, and he stopped coming to th« house. I felt dreadfully, and went to my dearest friend, Laura Martin, and told her my troubles. ! was, shy, and a long while really getting into my story, but I told It at last. My emotion gradually overcame me as I went on, and I finished by declaring that my heart would break If matters weren’t put right, and demanding wildly, ’O, Laura, tell me what to do!’

“‘Have a clam fritter,’ said Laura, briskly.” “Aunt Marcia! But I don’t understand. Was It slang?" “It was not, nor heartlessness, either; but you may Imagine my feelings. I flung out of the door in a tempest of wrjith and tears, and this cruel world looked very black indeed. It wasn’t rosy again till the next day, when I found that my dear, loyal Laura had already given Tom a hint before I went to her; and that returning late from the beach party where she had done so, she had been up all the rest of the night with a small brother, who had a raging tooth. ‘‘She was nodding with sleep when I began my tale, and wa3 quite asleep and dreaming reminiscent dreams before I was well into it. My conculding appeal woke her suddenly, and she spoke before she was fully awake. That was all; except, that is, that I was hath too near-sighted and too much excited to notice that she was napping." Louise laughed, a little reluctantly. “I can’t claim my confidences were anything as important as a love affair,” she owned, “and Sally certainly didn’t Insult my feelings with a dara fritter. But then, I wasn’t near-sight-ed and she wasn’t asleep." Aunt Marcia smiled her wise and whimsical smile. “Are you so very nice, Louise?” sha asked. “Most of us, even the truest and warmest-hearted, are caught napping once in a while in our tact, our* sympathy, or our understanding. Very few of us always see another person’s, excuse as clearly as we see our own grievance. I’m Inclined to think, if you talk it over with Sally, you’ll find, after all, that somebody was nodding, and somebody didn’t see."— Youth’s Companion.'

Where Women Rule Spineless Men.

The selection of Fishguard In 'Wales as a new port of call for the big steamships of the Cunard line has enabled hundreds of travelers who never had heard of the place before to find a lively interest in the little village of Llangwm, near by. Most of the inhabitants are of Flemish origin, descendants of the soldiers of fortune who pushed their adventurous way all along the southern coast of England and Anally settled In Wales 400 or 500 years ago, and their quaint costumes and customs still mark them off from their neighbors as a people apart. The most remarkable feature of their life lies in the position which ths women hold among them. Llangwm might stand as the ideal of it he most extreme advocates of women’s rights, for there the women are in supreme control. The men are regarded merely as household conveniences. They stay at home and look after their domestic duties as the women go out and act as the ’’men of the family,” earning the family livelihood and also holding the family purse strings. The women are the owners of the farms and cottages, and their husbands are perfectly satisfied that everything should be in their bands, doing such work as their wives tell them and filling an entirely secondary place In the household.

Climbing the Ladder.

“Young man, I am proud to say that I began at the very foot of the ladder,” said the merchant, throwing out his chest. “Dat’s right,” said the blunt applicant; "an’ I’ve heard me father say as how your father paid all your automobile an’ other bills while you waa climbin’ up the ladder.”—Boston Herald.

Will the Band Did.

“Here’s a heading in this paper which says, ‘Badly. Mutilated by * Mounted Baud.’’’ “What was the name of the pleca th<* band was mutilating?’’—Yonkers Statesman. A man who spends all his time foil lowing a leader, never gets very fa*