Rensselaer Republican, Volume 21, Number 52, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 August 1889 — Page 7

RIGHT Af*D WRONG. -Lt GEORGE JI’DOHALO. Alas, how easily things go wronjr; A sigh too much or a kiss too long. And there follows a mist and weeping rain, And life isnevhr the same again. - - Alas, how hardly things go right; t’Tis jiard to watch on a summer night, For the sigh will come and the kiag-trUi And the ihmmer’s night is a winter's day. And yet how easjl.v things go right, If the sigh and the kiss of the winter’s night Come deep froni the soul in the stronger That is bora in the light of the winter’s day. ‘ - : •' And things can never go badly wrong If the heart be true and the love be strong; For the mist, if it comes, and the weeping rain Will be changed by love into sunshine again.

TOO LATE.

..... r. ,4 w ~;v.' a ■' A Story of St. Valentine’s Day. .CHAPTER 11. - The summer weeks crept lazily away, and still Lyon Leslie lingorod in Thorpe, the country town in which the recruiting party to which he belonged was stationed, Scarcely a day had passed without the pair meeting ; but it was only when quite alone that Lyon’s manner betrayed the lover. His words, even in his tenderest moods, never betrayed his caution, He had not yet asked the girl he loved to be his wife. Mrs. Thanet had lately placed more restriction on her daughter’s movements ; she watched events anxiously. “The man is trifling with her, John,” she said to her husband; “he looks down upon us.” “Nonsense, Mary,” rejoined Mr, Thanet, lightly. “He is only Scotch and canny ; I like him, and to me at least ho has never shown the least ‘upishness.L He often comes into my office and smoks a clay with me.” A week later Lyon Leslie left Thorpe, recalled to his regiment, he said ; .but Nell did not know, nor did her father, of a certain short but pertinent note, sent by Mrs. Thanet the night of the above conversation to the young man’s quarters, and which received an answer not much to that lady’s satisfaction from one point of view, hut very much from the other. If, the writer said, he had been led beyond discretion in his admiration for Miss Helen Thanet, he would be the sufferer, and he alone, for he was sure the young lady was too young to understand the tender passion; and, when she did, he was certain she would bestow her heart on a far more deserving object than his kind and wise friend’s unworthy acquaintance Lyon Leslie. That was all. A tiny postscript informed Mrs. Thanet that the writer would have to rejoin his regiment in a few days; but he would do himself the pleasure of making his adieu in person. Mrs. Thanet was a wise woman; she said nothing of the letter or its contents to Nell; but, when Lyon called to say farewell, he found the ladies were not at home. Nell heard of his approaching departure from Mrs. Hammond, and that not until two days before the event. She said very little; she was not a girl given to many words. Just for the moment she looked stunned; just for the moment her face betrayed her heart. For two days Nell’s cheeks showed not a tinge of color. Her mouth was hard set, and the deep hazel of her eyes glowed with the fire of fierce long, lng and unrest. ~ Her mother watched her anxiously; hut she made no . effort to win her child’s confidence. “Time enough,” she said to herself, “when I see how she bears it.” Hoping, yet fearing, to meet the girl he had the heart to treat so callously, Lyon Leslio made a round of farewell calls; but chance did not favor him, and Mrs. Thanet was on her guard. She kept Nell at home busily engaged in preparing her brother Randall’s wardrobe for his ing departure for London, where he was to enter University college as a medical student. Lyon was to leave by the morning train on Thursday; so Randall, to whom the relations between his sister and the gay young soldier had been a mere flirtation, informed his mother, Towards the evening, Mrs. Thanet desired her daughter to ask at the railway station, which was not far away, for a small parcel which she expected by the late train. It was a dull misty evening, a melancholy autumn gloaming. Nell got the parcel and was about to leave the place; but, meeting an acquaintance, stopped for a few moments’ chat. The moments grew to half an hour. She was recalled to the lapse of time by the arrival of some luggage for the last train to London, and, before she could leave the platform, she came face to fata with Lyon Leslie. Her cheeks were not colorless now, but there was neither flurry nor sialf consciousness in her manner. She stood very still, as if waiting for Lyon to speak. * Only a moment he was at fault; hut he rallied quickly, and with an offhand air, held out his hand, saying—- “ How luclty! I thought I was'not to see you again., I called, and was no Maud”—he smiled—“came to me.” “It was from a stranger I heard you were goings she said. Reproachfully. “I thought I had offefededyou.” “OffosdftHhe. Nell! er couldffcM R%as been all UFfßesOT' ant; I shau be wretched, thinking it Ib all over. Oh,- pretty one, what it is *0 be poor! 1 ’

The bell rang; in a minute the train would start ' She spoke hot a word. ‘An overT*— the words were a knell in her ear; but she was proud, and kept silence. “You will remember St Valentine’s Day. darling,” he whispered. “You promised me a lock of your hair then. If we do not .meet before, you will keep your promise, won’t you?” ; : “I am only a woman,” she said calmly; “hut I never broke a promise.” Then she took his proffered hand, held it a moment, looking into his eyes with a strange questioning gaze, and said—- “ Goodbye!” “Good-bye, Nell—good-bye, darling. Dinna forget. ” One second their hands were clasped, one second their eyes met—a shiver passed through his frame, his lips opened. “Forget?" sho said, as their hands parted. “Never!” Once more the imperative hell rang its warning.clang; there was no time for more. A swift glance round showed Lyon that, in the bustle and hurry none observed them. He bent, rapidly kissed her, and wus off. As in a dream, she walked home, her heart aching, but full of love and trust, “By Jove,” he muttered, when he had made himself comfortable, with a reading lamp and a magazine—“by Jove, I was nearly in for it! Lucky the bell stopped me! Well, I always heard country quarters were dangerous, and I believe it now. She knew nothing of the maternal epistle, though;” and he opened his book. It did not prove interesting; he could not fix his attention. Leaf by leaf he turned it over, thinking of the true searching eyes that had looked into his with-such trusting innocence, of the pale noble faqe, of the sweet low voice, and the thrilling pressure of the soft hand. Her spell was on him. The very pain of it seemed more than he could hear. Was he never to see her again? Would, she forget him soon? Then he wondered if the would suffer as the days wore on and he made no sign. Ho shook the thought off. Pshaw! She was but a -child! What could she know of love? She had been to him a very pleasant pastime, and he to her scarcely more. Some day they would meet again, and laugh together at their little rehearsal of a love-idyl. He was recovering his equanimity. What were these lines—only three versos. He would read them. Strange— their title was, the same as the words he had used to* her! Ah, cruel vprds! “Dinna forget.” Why shouldn’t she forget? There was really nothing to remember. Then he read the verses. “Dinnamind me, dinna mind me; All your tears will not atofle, Dinna think that mem’ries bind me; I can face the years alone. ‘Dinna fear me, dinna fear me; Stout my heart and strong to bear; Thoughts o’ henv’n will come to cheer me. All will be forgiven there. “Dinna name me, dinna name me; I will keep sad silence too; But, if idle tongues should blame me, Only say you know me true.” Randall was to leavo for. University College the first week in October. IF was now the middle of September. For a few days after Lyon Leslie’s departure, Nell was absent nnd silent. Of late her bursts of merriment had boon few and far between; now even her smiles became rare. She shrank from smiling people, and yet she bore the questioning of inquisitive friends unflinchingly, though answering shortly, and beside the point. Her father thought she was fretting At the prospect of parting with her twin brother; but her mother read her child’s heart better. Sho watched her silently. A great gloom had fallen upon the house. Kondall was entering on a profession uncongenial to his tastes; he was parting from his twin-sister, the being he loved best in all the world; and that sister was distraite and, for the first time in her life, unresponsive to his sorrow. “Nell,” he said to her, the night before his departure, “I wish you were coming with me. I Could pass the ordeal better.” “So do I, Randall.” The same words had been said over and over again by the brother and sister; but beyond the wish not a thought or hope of such an eventuality had occurred to either. “Women cAn learn to be doctors,” she added, as if revolving a thought in her mind, “Yes, and do, too. You would make a good one, Nell; you have such a quick insight into things. You would be grand at diagnosis. ” “Would you like me to become a medical student with you, Randall?” “It would be awfully jolly for me," he said, with a man’s selfishness; “and Indeed, now I think of it, I wonder you don’t! Women lead very useful lives, unless they marry; andi you might make yours a grand one.” “Do you know, Randall, I should like it.” “What, dissecting-room and all!” —and the lad made a gesture <Jf faf“Not like that part of it; but it is only the firft step that counts, you know. One gets used to butchers’ shops from bhbit, an#, but for habit, how disgusted such eights would make appetite; then gradually oil that would wear qflapjid I’d become as callous as anyone? I shouldn’t like to at1pU h * ro ° lll “Well, Nell, wait till .1 come back from my 4 flrjjt term, and I’U ball you all about R:. imf j£yqu. htoan’4 made up" your mind to many that soldierfello.w».l vote vnii mturajrith me. myl awtytjjo D. ’ ” will he terribly dull without you, Randall. (11 write to you twiee every ”*reek. I am not-going Out to toy parties this winter.”

“What, going to wear the Ah, Nell; is it ‘she loved tod he rode away’ ?” The boy—he was but eighteenspoke lightly. Nell did not answer. He looked round at her from the table at which he was arranging his papers; her head had drooped, and ;the big tears, were falling upon her work. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Nell darling,” he cried, going up to her quickly } and putting his arm proteetingly around her. “I didn’t think there was; anything serious in the matter. He'd better not play you false, though, or he shall answer to me.”. “Hush, Randall!” she cried impatiently. “Yon are romancing, not I. I am as free as the winds, and so is he —that is, if we choose. I am lowspirited because you are leaving me, I -wish I could keep my feelings more under control. I want a good medical training. Parting from you is like an operation. I'd like to take chloroform till Wednesday has come again;” and she burst into a passion of weeping. “Never mind, Nell; we're all the world to each other. Keep up your spirits, and perhaps you will come back with me after 'Christmas. Time won’t hang so Very heavily on your hands. You’ll have all the animals to look after when I’m gone, and I'll send you home some new works on natural history.” Man-like, it was what he liked; but he thought of giving her consolation. It never entered his mind that other pursuits might be more congenial to her. “I will do all you ask me. Randall;” she whispered, embracing him, “and I’ll count the days till you comeback.” There was &n open rebellion in Thorps when it was known that Nell Thanet had in a manner shut herself up from society. The society was not large,but it was social; and during the winter many pleasant re-unions took place. The people were hospitable; they were mostly on a level, so not cut up into sets. Some few, through ties of blood or marriage, were connected with one or two of the county families, and occasionally penetrated the exclusive cordon that kept that circle apart from Ihe town. Among these the Thanet family were the most favored. They were a little more than tolerated and Nell in particular had been rather extensively patronized. The connection in this instance, was through Mrs. Thanet, who was the daughter of Sir Andrew Kennett, an obscure Scotch baronet, with neither estates or money to support his barren dignity.to which he had succeeded collaterally. He writer in a small town, and his not very remunerative business suffered not a little by his assumption of a title. His poorer clients grew shy of him as a man of business, and the richer classes objected to employing a person elevated over their heads by a title. The county people sneered at him as presumptuous; and declined to recognize him as one of their order. Altogether his new dignity cost the worthy writer dear, and, hut for his wife, he would probably have dropped it; she clung to it, though, and bore it off among her enemies bravely; hut it weighed heavy. She wa3 a shrewd woman, and equal to the occasion. With much difficulty she obtained a .commission in the army for her eldest son. In time, he married the only daughter of Squire Nettlethorpe of Nettlethorpe Hall, in the county of Hants, in which county was the little town of Thorpe.' He died early in life, leaving several children, now grown to man’s and woman’s estate. These were constant visitors at Nettlethorpe Hall, now held by their uncle. Mr. Thanet who had married their aunt, was the squire’s land agent, and agent likewise of the Duke of Walton, the county magnate. Nell saw a good deal of her j cousins, and, through them, often made one in the numerous entertainments given by the gentry during the autumn, when the attractions of shooting filled the country houses, and in the winter, when the hard times began for the “little red dog.” Her sisters had not been so fortunate. They had married before their cousins had grown up, or been much at the Hall. As Nell’s uncle, Colonel Kennet|, had died before his father, wh# was still alive, the heir to the baronetcy was his eldest son Andrew, now a subaltern in the —th Lancers. Mrs. Kennett, who had had a handsome fortune, was a scheming woman, but a good deal held in check by her youngeßt daughter, Janet, a young woman of very pronounced and much determination of character, downright also, and very plain-spoken. She and Nell were sworn friends. During the time of Lyon Leslie’s stay in Thorpe, the Kennetta had not once been at Nettlethorpe’s Hall. They had been sojourning on the Continent for a year. That some family connection existed between the Tbanets and Squire Nettlethorpe’s family Lyon knew; but, as the former were not given to speaking of personal matters, and he had only casually met the latter, the subject had never come prominently before him. His relatione with Nell too were so delicAte, he avoided all mention of her name in common with others. Often, incidentally, Nell had named her cousin Janets but never in connection with the Nettiethorpes; of them indeed she /saw little or nothing except when her aunt was at the Hall. (TO BK CQNTISUKD. > —-v—. When a young man calls on his girl now he knows by her ill-concealed confusion that by is-Boon'-to he made the rediple||jof an 'elqganßy’embroidered smokmg jaclftst that will be tore to fit somebody alas a Wtty than it wi « He. had, all auburn-haired did. mVP promlsetTiotake mat him at the door, and he exclaimed: “Hello! Ready?” She misunderstood him, and they don’t speak now. 7*7

THE HOUSEHOLD.

By varnishing an oilcloth semiannually its durability will be indefinitely prolonged. ' Tin and copper kettles will shine il rubbed with a piece of flannel saturated in kerosene. Make starch with soapy water, and you will find it a pleasure to do up your starched goods. 7 When tan-colored glovee go out ol lashion, pale gray-green will take their place. . Straw bonnets for summer are Almost as soft as lace, and held in shape by fine wire. A salve of equal parts efi tar, ta))ow ' and salt will cure the worst case oi felon. j Econominize strength by sitting 1 upon a big stool when wiping dishes or dressing vegetables. A very handsome new summer stuff is China silk with a small raised figure scattered all over it. The printed letters may be removed from flour sacks by soaking them in buttermilk.—Housekeeper. Don’t banish the stoves. A low temperature in June causes more discomfort than in January and many times more ills. A little mason’s bluing, which may be purchased at any drug store, will give a desirable pearl white tint to the whitewash. Bonnet strings are tiny pipings like milliner’s folds, which pass under the chin and end in a rosette just below the left ear. A half-cupful of ammonia to a pail of water will cleanse hard-finished Walls nicely. Change the water when >t becomes foul. Paint on windows can, it is said, l>e removed by meliing some soda in very hot water, and washing them with it, using a soft flannel. Many people take sweet cream in large quantities as a cure for nervous debility. It is said to serve all the purposes of cod liver oil. Tiny cut-glass dishes for bon-bona. olives and small flowers come in sets of four; in shape, the heart, diamond, spade and club of a card suit. White and willow green is an ideal mixture for the wear of fair young girls with roseleaf complexions. The bodice which has one side glittering with jet and the other side | quite plain is more popular than ever. j When potters’ ware is boiled sot the purpose of hardening it, a handful or two of bran should be thrown into the water, and the glazing will never be injured by acids or salt. A pretty fancy seen upon a low, black lace gown was straps of 'fine openwork jet, pussed over and under the arm, and seeming to hold the race folds in place. Mousseline de soie is a favorite fabric for graduating dresses, and will also be used for summer-resort i toilets and bridesmaids’ gowns. Paris modistes use it for parts of youthful bridal dresses over whitesilk slips. Flannel wrung from hot water and applied to the neck and ehest of a child suffering from croup will usually afford relief. The clothes can be heated in a steamer and the discomfort of wringing from hot water avoided. All poultices should be spread between two pieces of old, soft linen, and covered over with a layer of oiled silk. Never let the substance of the poultice come in contact with the skin, or allow it to get cold or hard. 1 | To polish slate floors, use a smooth, ! flat piece of pumice-stone, then polish with rotten-stone. Washing well with soap and water is usually enough to keep the slates clean, but by adopting the above method, not only does the slate become polished, bnt any stains are taken out. An Albany physician who “never knew a case of cancer among Hebrews” thinks their exemption due to abstinence from pork. But they take special precautions against all disease in all meats admitted to their bill of fare. | It is said that if lamp chimneys, j tumblers, or other glass dishes are 1 placed in cold water, with a half cup j of table salt to each quart of water, which is brought slowly to a boil and boiled a half hour, then allowed to , cool in the water, they will resist any sudden changes of temperature without cracking. As an antidote for a consumptive tendency, it is claimed that cream acts like a charm, and serves all the purposes intended to be served by cod liver oil, with much greater certaintly qnd Besides persons inclined/ those yitfi feeble digestion, aged, people *nd those inclined to chill mess and cold j extreinitijes.^yc ;!e?pesi#jy benefitt/i v »t»« j.Boston Transcript: The lamentation is heard almost everywhere that so few , boys graduate from the high school; hot then beys’ time is precious, and

they can not bo well as girls was*e is learning; bo many'thiols that are not so with regard to things of which no cne has any certain knowledge. The high school i# a great institution, but it spreads out its educational Tarnish so thin that the original ignoramus is easily discernible beneath it. Western Steamboat Routes. From a profusely illustrated article on Inland Navigation in the July Con*, tury we quote the following: “It is {►erfectly true that the western steamboat interest has been seriously impaired by competition with the railroads,. and that the number of fast boats has greatly decreased. For the position of steamboat property in the past was peculiar. Large numbers of the boats were owned by the captains or their families, and in case of hard times or a cut rate war with the railroads the boats coukl be siezed for debt and traffio stopped. The competing raiload,. on the other hand, might Im equally in debt, but in the hands of a receiver it weut on doing business while the poor boat owner was tied up with his boat. •‘This is the common and the darker view t.iken of the steamboat interest on our great rivers. To offset this is the fact that the larger rivers are now well lighted, and more lights are added every year. The millions spent on the rivers have wonderfully improved navigation, and there are fewer wrecks than ever before. The slack water navigation, as on the Kanawha and the Monongahela, has greatly extended the season in which boats can run, and has thus extended the earning time of every boat on these waters, i'tie ownership of the boats has also changed, and in place of single ‘tramp’ steamers there are now regular incorpor ted companies owning large fleets of boats and having abundant capital. These companies are enabled to furnish better, cheaper and more regular service, with less danger of ruinous competition with the railroads. Formerly the steamboat service was extravagant and costly in management, while rates were high and profits large. The companies now conduct their business with more economy, and seek to attract business by regular departures and arrivals, more comfortable boats, and better table and stateroom service. The lines now more nearly approach the eastern lines, both in equipment and management, and while the old racing captains, who threw their freight into their furnaces rather than be beaten by a rival boat, are passing away, the new men are real captains of safe and comfortable boats. '1 he romantic days have gone from the rivers forever, but the travel* is safer, and in a w y, more civilized. The last of the famous racing machines, the Natchez, was wrecked only a few months ago. The competiou with the railroads has demanded a wholly different class of boats, and the tourists will comp3l a better passenger service on all the lines in the future. “In the opinion of those cpmpetent to speak on the matter, the , prospects for the passenger traffic on the rivers is far from discour ging. Once all the world had to go by boat or stay at home. Now the larger number tftkf the cars, and in order to retain' an yi traffic at all the boat lines must offer superior inducements in the way of price, comfort, and attendance. This they seemed prepared to do; and it is safe to say that the time will come when many of the river routes of the West will be as popular as the Hudson Riveror Long island Sound, and ft trip on these great waterways will be regarded as quite as important to a right understanding of the .country ai a day on the North River.”

Pistols in His Pants.

“Frank James, the brother of the dead outlaw Jesse James, is afflicted with consumption, and it is only a question of time until he dies,” said Charley Buckthorn, a traveling man. “I have just returned from Dallas, Texas, where I met Frank. The strain apon him must be something terrible as he is ever upon the alert, nob knowing at what, time or from what direction trouble may come to him. He told me that he trusted no man living. “When introduced, he invariably places his hands in his pataloon pockets, and simply bowing,acknowledges the introduction by saying: ‘I am glad to know you, sir." When his hands are shoved into the pockets they grab two ugly guns. They are always in his pants pockets. His eyes are small and piercing. Hot long ago he went into a saloon in Dallas,owned by Tom Angus, a gambler and sport. Tears ago, James claims, Angus gave the James gang* away to thepolice. James, with his bands in his pockets, walked np to Angus, and such a scoring I never beard in my life, and all the time Frank James’ eytm fairly glittered like a cat. He watched every move of the man and Angus weakened, and l did not blame him, either.”

A Snggistion.

“Pwhat is that anyhow that they’ve been puttin’ on Dinney’s tomb-shtone?” said lira. Murphy, as she was Visiting: the resting place of her deceased husband. “Requiescrttt fat Pace* means *let him rest in peace,” said the sextdn who had accompanied her. •granmfhr:'**** -ft e«» !m “I don’t unerstand yon.” “He was biowed np in a gun powder factory. It ought to be “Shlape in pacw.’’—Merchant Trarckr.

AUSTRIA-HUNGARY.

Statistics of the Empire Ruled Over by Kaiser Francis Joseph. Vienna is a city of people} Buda-Pesth has about 425,000; Prague, 162,000; Trieste, 145,000; Limburg, 110,000. No other city of Austria touches 100,000 inhabitants. The e*ports of Austria are about $350,000,000 » year. The imports are less than the exports. The principal export is grain, next timber, and then sugar. The latter is exported to the amount of $24.000,000, and this is nearly equalled respectively by watches and instrument* wool and woolens, and living animals. Of course,the German portion of Austria is the most active in business. It •ends to G-r&at Britain about f£>, §>££>, DW> worth of grain and flour per annum, including barley. The British return to Austria cotton manufactures, iron, and raachlnq’fy. N’iflety-four per cent of the area of Austria is productive. Austria proper has 620,000 acres of vineyard. The kingdom has nearly 1,500,000 horses and about 8,500,000 cattle. Hungary produces annually $20,000,000 worth of wine, and lias nearly 2,000,000 horses and about 5,000,000 cattle, with 10000,000 sheep. They export more horses, cattle, and sheep from both kingdoms than they import. The mines, including salt,' produce for Hungary $17,000,000 ayear. Austria has coal which yields her about $20,000,000 a year. They employ over 100,000 persons in their mines and metal works. In Austria there are 8,500 miles of railroad; in Hungary, 5,80 Q miles. They have only about one-tenth the length of railroad the United States has. The navigation of the river Dan-: übe is controlled by the Berlin treaty of 1878. It is considered an internar tional highway from its mouth to the iron gates, and Austria, Bulgaria, Rournania, and Servia, assisted by the supervising great powers, control the river.

A Ghost Tolled the Bells.

the earthquake shook it down, the old guard house or police station was just across the street, in front of the church. Every night for years an old policeman, who had grown old and decrepit in the service of his country and lastly of his city, kept watch at the door. He had leen many strange sights, and he ah* trays said that the strangest he bad tver seen was the dead man ringing! the chimes from the belfry of old St. Michael’s. He had seen the shrouded figure, time and again, climb up to the bells, and, not touching the ropes, which had been pulled so often by living hands, swing the heavy iron tongues against the sides of the bells and clash out a fearfpl melody which thrilled while it horrified the listener. He would tell yon 1 , if you cared to listen to .his story, how the ghost; had been for in its normal e*ate it had been murdered bytho thrust of an Italian stiletto in Elliot street. The spfrit was “to walk the earth,” “revisit the glimpses of the moon.” ring the old chimes, and do other horrible things, until the murderer was captured. . A few minutes before midnight tbs old watchman would see this spectral -chimer enter the church doors, forgetting to open them, swiftly and in a ghostly way glide up the steps of the winding stair, pause under the bells by the ropes where Gladsden rings them, pass swiftly on without touching them, climb on into the gloomy belfry and stop beneath th© open mouths of the bells. They yawned down upon it, as if striving to swallow up the restless spirit. Suddenly, as if the inspiration had come, the shrouded hand wonld move silently and rapidly from iron tongue, and the wild eidntch music would swell the air.—Atlanta Journal.

Henry Ward Beecher.

I heard a new story of Henry Ward Beecher recently, says the Hew York Citizen. Job Smith is well known in religious circles in this city. Desiring to join Plymouth church he called on Mr. Beecher and told him his object “What’s your name?” Mr. Beecher asked. ‘•Smith.”’ was the reply. “Smith!” exclaimed the pastor. “That’s no name. That doesn’t giro me any information. Haven’t you another nameP” “Yes; Job.” “Oh, that’s a different tiling. Job is one of my friends. His name is one of the greatest in history.” Mr. Smith joined the church, and it was always Mr. Beoohor’s custom at the prayer meetings whoa he deeired the aid of Mr. Smith tosay: “Brother Job, will you pragr?” _

Resident Carnet ant His Wife

President Garnet of Franco la dreadfully stiff and correct in everything,— rather, ‘ in short, too conscientiously gentlemanlike and too scrupulously well bred. Not having gone through the training of* a constitutional sovereign. Which ; Cqabled too prince of Wales to be lent headaches. And <. return# ,40 toe Elysee «Hi M 1 oive vSfJMliim*. tM4p ■pleasant without, duties, always gracious, always smiling, ak ways beautifully dressed, and nerer obliged to bo tired, consequently much happier than any queen.