St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 18, Number 13, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 15 October 1892 — Page 2

WOMANS INFLUENCE]

fhaOM/ ^laiWjlaKu? Off I j CHAPTER XVl—Continued. “I suppose that is a rebuke to me,” Margaret made answer to the Doctor. “You see, I am always ready to improve everything and everybody but myself." “Which needs improving sadly,” interposed Brian, entering at this moment. “I have a scolding for you, Margaret. I thought ” “I know,” answered Margaret, rather contritely. “I am really very sorry. Doctor Wilson has excused me, and I have promised to do better for the future. So no more, please.” “No more. That is always your cry when you need a lecture. I see you and Wilson are friends already. I thought you would be. Effects of kindred tastes. Where did you walk this afternoon? To the end of creation?” “Oh, no. Only within the bounds of New York. I was not gone so very long, really; but I decidc’d to go so late that-—” “Another inopportune decision. I wonder when you are half way to heaven if you won’t turn back and try the other place, just to differ from the rest of the world. Wilson, behold the very incarnation of self-will. Leaving out this little failing, she deserves Bertie’s eulogies, and I am wonderfully proud of her. ” “Very consoling. I thank you, sir. For reward I’ll give you your dinner. I dare say you are ready for it. ” “Decidedly, Margaret. I had a wretched lunch and my appetite is now in prime condition. I wish Wilson would make a like admission just to keep me in countenance. I don’t expect much from you. Shall we progress?” “I have been telling Mrs. Leigh how much I admire your charming home,” remarked Wilson when they were comfortably seated about the table. “I have always had a prejudice against apartments, but this one has thoroughly converted me.” “I like them,” said Brian, following Wilson’s glance around the room. “Much more cozy than a house. This one was my choice, though Margaret gave me the cue. I must let her have the credit for all these fixings, however. This room was much more empty when we first moved in; now it seems real ; homelike. It is astonishing what a woman’s hands can do.” “Astonishing,” repeated Wilson, musingly. “Don’t make me bewail my lonely estate more deeply, I beg of you. Think how these delightful rooms com- * pare with my dull quarters. No wonder you don’t care to show yourself there. You are such a stranger that I was wondering to-day what you do with yourself.” “What?” repeated Margaret in her own mind, while she gave Brian a rather — searching glance. He pretended not to see it, however. “Oh, I’m around generally,” he answered rather unsatisfactorily. “I don’t find any difficulty in occupying my time. I’ll run in upon you some night. Though while Margaret is here ” “You will be taking her about a great deal, of course. Under those circumstances don’t consider me. 1 hope you like sight-seeing, Mrs. Leigh. Otherwise you must find it extremely tiresome. Or perhaps you are one of those fortunate individuals whose endurance is always equal to the emergency.” “Endurance,” repeated Margaret, starting from her train of thought. “Do you know, Doctor, I think endurance is nothing more than determination or will. It is with me, at least. If I make up my mind to bear a thing I always bear it, and if I don’t, I don’t. You seem amused, Brian, but I’m sure you can say the same thing if you would. When I was a child I used to pinch my arm o see how long I could stand the pain without crying, but a reproving tap from my old nurse sent me into spasms of weeping. That was all will, you see.” “AU will,” repeated Brian. “I thank you for telling us, Margaret. I can imagine how you tried that poor old nurse. What are you intending to illustrate?” “Simply that our wills have everything to do with our feelings. Dr. Wilson wants to know if I find sight-seeing tiresome. lam afraid I do. But I like it, and so I quite forget that the hard pavements tire my feet most dreadfully, and that when I ride I’m jostled almost to death, Really, Doctor, you may say what you please about your wonderful city, but I think its streets are an everlasting disgrace to any civilized town.” “I have nothing to say in their defense," admitted the Doctor, with a laugh. “They are bad. Does your idea of endurance extend to social duties also?” “Y r es, certainly. Why should they be called duties, I wonder? I have a special distaste for that word. It carries with it the sense of obligation, and obligation is always disagreeable.” “Always?” questioned Wilson, rather quizzically. “I dare say you are right, though. Duty can be most unpleasant. We are queerly constituted at best.” “I think we are rather natural,” added Margaret. “It isn’t to be expected that we women should like to do what we feel we ought. Just put must before a request and it grows disagreeable immediately for me. I might go to a ball and dance all night with a raging headache, but I wouldn’t think of going to church in the same condition. I’d be much too ill. I’m giving you a dreadful example, am I not? Well, I can only advise you to do neither as I say nor as I do.” “I always thought you religious, Margaret. ” “You have never thought anything of the kind,” returned Margaret, meeting Brian’s mischievous eyes. “Why should you think so? Simply because I’m a woman. What a reason. I believe the world does think religion was made for ■women rather than men, though it is the men who really need it. Poor women ! They are obliged to walk stiff and straight in a certain beaten track. They mustn’t do this, they mustn’t do that,

I and they mustn’t do the other, until they are so encompassed by a wall of musts and mustn’ts that I wonder they have any individuality left. ” “Thank heaven you haven’t lost your individuality yet, Margaret. Wilson, you were regretting your lonely estate awhile ago; after listening to such remarks from the mouth of one woman, beware of al others and rejoice at your escape.” “Come, Doctor,” said Margaret, before Wilson could reply, “we will go to the parlor, and I promise to be very quiet and sedate for the rest of the evening. No doubt, you will find Brian’s conversation much more instructive and entertaining.” When Wi.son had taken his departure an hour or so later, Margaret turned to Brian with the remark: “I am so glad you brought him, Brian. I like him so much.” “Then I don’t believe I’ll bring him again. I’m jealous of him. But, seriously, Margaret, he is quite a fine fellow. I with I were half as fine. You should have heard the nice things he said about you. He is very anxious that you should see more of New York, and he mentioned several places that I had sor r otten abcut. He says you would like to see them, and so you shall. I’ve left you very mu< h alone lately, but I intend t r be more attentive hereafter.” He knew that Margaret was pleased, from the happy light that stole into her eyes. “I believe that I shall be glad of the day I met Doctor Wilson,” thought Margaret, as she crept into bed an hour later. CHAPTER XVII. A 1,1 FT'NO OF THE CLOUDS. To Brian, the knowledge that Margaret had not lost all feeling for him, and that her faith in him was strong, notwithstanding his many falls, brought new strength and courage. With the power of strong determination he seemed to be gain,ng a victory over that old habit. Not an entire one, of course. Margaret could not expect so much. Sometimes a friend could lure him away, but this was seldom, and never since their talk in her room had he lost the entire command of himself. Under these circumstances Margaret felt her heart considerably lightened. She could look forward more hopefully to the future, and her letters took on something of her own cheerful spirit. Brian could not fail to see the change, and it was equally apparent to Wilson, in his few brief visits. He only dropped in upon rare occasions now, seldom stayed long, and always claimed that he was too busy even to find time to see his friends. “I suppose we must accept your excuses, Doctor,” Margaret replied one evening to his usual plea. “Can’t you teach your patients some idea of the fitness of things? Why should they all get sick together? I think a few might wait until the others are well.” “So they might, Mrs. Leigh, if they could see the matter from your point of view. Unfortunately, however, illness, like time and tide, waits for no man. Wo have had a very trying winter, and pneumonia is very prevalent. That has added considerably to my labors. I confess I am thoroughly tired out when night comes, and only too glad to creep into bed.” “And sleep in the comfortable sense that your rest is well earned.” “Yes,” he laughed, “though that is no proof against its being broken. The only time my profession brings a regret is when I hear my night bell jingling and I am called from a delightful nap. ” "Just as I’ve always said,” observed Brian, with a side glance at Margaret. “A doctor’s life is all work and no play. ” “And you like the play est; don’t you?" she rejoined, quickly. “Still, play or not, Brian, it is a very noble profession, and when I was a child I always declared I should boa doctor’s wife.” There was a decide 1 question in the eyes she fixed upon him. “Poor Margaret,” he replied, joining in Wilson’s laugh. “What a miserable concern co i managed to get. Only the beginning of one.” “Don’t be so generous with your sympathy, please. A beginning is bo.ter than nothing. An acorn is only the beginning of an cak, but we don’t despise the acorn because it is not an oak—yet. ” Wilson, as well as Brian, caught the delicate emphasis on the yet, and he answered with a half smile: “Brian will become an honored member of the profession before his days are ended. I predict that, Mrs. Leigh.” “Ah, I have quite decided it,” returned Margaiet promptly. “Brian knows that as well as I c’o. I couldn’t have all my childish calculations upset. 1 used to think Uncle Stephen the very personification of all things good and noble, and I wondered then if his son were anything like him. You see I had not met Brian. ” “And now, Margaret, that you have met him?” Brian came behind her chair with this question. She glanced back at him and smiled. “I never form an opinion of a book after reading only its first page. I must go deeper to see if it will realize or disappoint my expectations. Besides, I don’t air-my views in public. Speaking of views,” she continued more lightly. “I have some I want to show you, Doctor. Y’ou must promise to think them very beautiful, or I shall be disappointed. Brian, will you get them, please?” At this request Brian got out a small folio of wood cuts and pen pictures of various scenes about Elmwood and the surrounding country. They were all excellent, and Wils n’s appreciation was was warm enough to satisfy even Margaret’s enthusiasm. “Do you wonder that I am proud of Elmwood?” she asked, after an animated description of several of its finest points. “Do you wonder that I should love it so dearly? My wonder is that Brian doesn’t care for it as I do, for he was born there. I think he has the least bit of fondness for a Bohemian existence. Ia n sorry for him, because I do think it a most unsatisfactory sort of life. I agree with George Eliot that we all should have one home spot that shall stand clearly out in memory, and to which our minds and hearts may always return, no matter how far we may have wandered from it.” Margaret broke off with a sigh “This.”

she added, taking up another picture In some haste, “ is a side view of The Cedars, Colonel Barton’s home. Brian and I were speaking of Bertie when you came in. He has finished his book and the publishers predict a great success for it. ” “Yes, I read it in the manuscript some time ago. I thought it excellent. Bertie is lull of p uck and deserves success. By the way, I met him to-day. He was in cheerful spirits. He tolls me he has a charm’ng wife. You know her, of course, Mrs. Leigh,” “Almost like a sister, I may say. I hear irom her quite frequently. She writes very delightful letters. She is constantly express ng the fear that I shall become so infatuated with New Yorii>and its pleasures that I shall forget what she calls their rural delights. I try to convince her that there is no danger of that.” “No. 1 tear you are too firm in your opinions ever to be converted, no matter how earnestly we may try.” As he spoke, Wilson left the table and dicw q chair, close beside her, and Brian busted himself in gathering up the scattered pictures. "I acknowledge that I like your city the least bit better than I did,” admitted Margaret, “but further than that I can not go. I forgot to tell you that I saw your little cripple to-day. I should think she was very ill.” “Hei - life is a matter of but a few weeks' at most,” was his answer. “I thank you for your interest id*her.” “Please don’t thank mo. Bm wonderfully self-satisfied, and I may begin to think I’ve done something meritorious. Brian, do come from behind my chair. You make me think of Satan. Get in front of me, please.” “Thanks for ycur compliment. Your candor is really iefreshing. I want to hear about the new unfortunate. I guessed from your face at dinner that you had been on some errand of mercy.” “I am sorry my face can not keep a secret better. Don’t persuade Dr. Wilson that I am an indefatigable St. Elizabeth, ever bent on charitable missions, when I am merely a young woman who wants —who doesn’t quite know what she wants.” “Doesn’t she? I think she succeeds very well in getting it. If you will play St. Elizabeth, I suppose no words of mine will have any effect. I can only mildly hope that you will not quite kill yourself. But seriously, I do not like to think of you joing around in all sorts of neighborhoods and meeting all kinds of characters. Os course, wherever Wilson recommends, is all right. Don’t go entirely on your own judgment, though. I shudder at the thought.” [TO BE CONTINUED. J His Weight in Gold. The ancient annual ceremony of “Talabbaram,” or weighing the Maharajah of Travancore against an equivalent weight of gold, has come round again. It appears to have been conducted this year with great pomp and ceremony, for the present Maharajah is a Hindu of the orthodox type, who aspires to keep up the traditions of his house. Some months before the ceremony the Government purchased through its commercial agent at Alleppey about two thousands’ weight of pure gold, the greater part of which was converted jjito coins for this purpose. seating an elephant and i defense the shrine, the MaharajsWßß^jt^ the building prepared for the- t+WF sion, and having completed the preliminary ceremonies, mounted one of the scales. The sword and shield were laid in his lap; in the other side of the scale gold coins, struck for the occasion, were placed by the first and second princes, till it touched the ground and the Maharajah rose in the air, the priest meanwhile chanting Wedic hymns. Volleys were tired, the band played, and the troops presented arms. The Maharajah woishiped at the shrine, and then went to the palace. Subsequently the Dewan and other officials distributed the coins from: the fort gates to fifteen thousand Brahmins. Care of the Eyes During: Early frlfe. Dr. L. Webster Fox (Medical and Surgical Reporter) formulates ten rules on the preservation of the vision: 1. Do not allow light to fall upon the face of a sleeping infant. 2. Do not allow babies to gaze at a bright light. 3. Do not send children to school before the age of ten. । 4. Do not allow children to keep their eyes too long on a near object. 5. Do not allow them to study much by artificial light. 6. Do uot allow them to use books with small type. 7. Do not allow them to read in a railway carriage. 8. Do not allow boys to smoke tobacco, especially cigarettes. 9. Do not necessarily ascribe headaches to indigestion; the eyes may be the exciting cause. 10. Do not allow the initerant spectacle vender to prescribe glasses. For the Complexion. Ten to fifteen grains of magnesia sulph. taken in a tumblerful of water every morning before breakfast will cause the most unsightly complexion to become clear in a short time. Generally, a month suffices for a complete cure, the skin having all the softness and clearness of a baby’s. The application of a solution of magnesia sulph. externally is said to be very beneficial also—say, one grain to the ounce of rosewater, applied every night and morning by means of a bit of soft sponge or linen cloth. It is said t-hat bl ush-of-roses, a South Bend nostrum, is only a weak solution of magnesia sulph. in water. Black Eye. There is nothing to compare with a tincture or a strong infusion of capsicum annuum, mixed with an equal bulk of mucilage or gum arable, and with the addition of a few drops of glycerine. This should be painted all over the bruised surface with a camel’s hair pencil, and allowed to dry on, a second or third coating being applied as soon as the first is dry. If done as scon as soon as the injury is inflicted, the treatment will invariably prevent the blackening of the bruised tissue. The "ame remedy has no equal in rheumat.--, sore or stiff neck.—Medical Times.

A Solemn Warning. They were just two, alone in the' old homestead—two dear, fussy old people, and one said to the other, as It speaking his thoughts aloud: “There’s something goin’ wrong in the house.” “I’ve felt it in my bones, ”answev*d i his wife; “what is it Elkanah?” “You tell, Nancy. It’s a bin an’ it’s a cornin’ nearer, a kind of trouble in the air—sort of lonesome like, as if somebody hed bin and gone.” “’Tain’t the children,’’said Nancy, clearing her throat, and with a quaver in her voice. “No, dear,” said the old man gently; “we’re used to them being I gone. It's more like something tnat is here, or ain’t hero, an’ I don’t I know as I be sure which ’tis.” “Where’s Mehitabol?” asked his i wife suddenly. “I ain’t seen her j since noon.” In answer to the name Mehitabel came forward, a big striped gray and black cat. “There’s a sort of gloomcrln’ in the air,” said the old man; “mebbe if I read a chapter now it’d help us out.” “Read the 15th chapter of St. John,” said his wife. “‘Pears like when one’s in trouble that helps out masterfully.” So the old man read aloud in the shaky voice of age that blessed canticle of the church: “Let not your hearts be troubled,” and when he oad finished reading he prayed a bit, taking in the whole universe, and still there was whao he called the feeling of “glcomerin”’ about. Suddenly his wife gave a start and a weak little cry. “Mortal sakes alive! I know what it is now, Elkanah. The clock hez stopped.” “Land of Goshen! 'Tain’t true?” “Look for yourself. The hands l hev stopped plumb level at 12.” “It never stopped afore, Nancy. It’s struck for life an’ its struck for death, but not to strike at all —no wonder we felt lonesome.” “It’s a solemn warnin’,” said his wife, shaking her head in a mysterious way: “that clock never stopped for nothin'.” Then the two simple-minded old souls looked at each other with an air of vague commiseration,and shook their troubled heads sadly. The next morning the old couple had breakfast at the regular hour — horology had nothing to do with the sun-like regularity of their lives—and i when that was over Elkanah went i put to find a man to doctor the clock. “What ai'.s it?” asked the clock mender as he opened the tall door and peered In at the scant machinery. “Somethin’s wrong with it's innards.” said Elkanah. Then hesitatingly, “My wife think’s mebbe it’s a solemn warnin'.” “It mought be gittin old.” suggested his wife, who did not like being quoted as a prophesier. “’j aint over a hundred,.an’ oughts •gainst chiu s « n a / ° n ' Burc st | Ciu-jstj ' dumbajrae he""difficulty?” he asked anxiously of the man who was examining it. “Sure,” said the clockmaker. “You forgot to wind it.” Forgot to wind the clock! The two old people looked at each other as if they were dazed. It really seemed ungrateful of that old timepiece to go and stop for a little thing like that. “Such a thing never happened afore,” said Nancy as they sat joyfully listening to the “tick-tock” of their j old companion. “1 can’t hardly seem I co sense it. That clock must be get- i tin’ old ” “Mebbe it’s us that’s gettin’ old 'stead of the clock,” suggested the old man with a twinkle in his eye.— ■ Free Press. Cigarette Smoking. Cigarette smoking is on the decline in Germany and on the increase in France, which is the more strange, as French cigarettes are notoriously poor. No country is worse off for its to-' bacca Cioss the frontier to the south and you fare well in Spain, cross ] it to the southeast and the trabucos and the menghettis are a relief; even in Germany the home-grown leaf is at least tolerable. But the French Hgars are bad and the French cigarettes are not better. In one of the Paris factories they turn them out at the rate of 1,500,000 I a day. When a factory girl has made her regulation pile 6,000 cigarettes I nave passed through her fingers. The ' phrase is scarcely accurate, for, of i course, it is the familiar little cylinder machine that is used; it is only in Spain that the cigarette is still hand-made. The French factory girl is fairly well paid, though there was a threatened strike a few day ago. She gets four shillings a day and the work is I not hard. There was some talk about | it not being healthy, says the Pall Mall Budget. The government sent । a commission to report. The un- ■ healthfuiness was said to be due to ! the powdered tobacco, the dust that I got into the lungs. It seems that i this was not true, and the making of; cigarettes is said to be much more ; wholesome than the smoking of them. ■ Improvements in Photography. One of the decided advances of late in the photographic industry is the production of a plate-coating machine , as a substitute far coating such plates . by hand—the well-known slow pro- : cess ot pouring the emulsion over the glass from a graduate or dipper. In this new machine the plates are fed i on to an endless belt or carrier, the I lower part of the belt running through ' ice water: the plate passes under the coating apparatus, and out at the i other end of the machine, evenly ’ coated, and with the emulsion so thoroughly chilled that the plates are toady for standing on end to dry. ,

। The coating .»f the plates by thl| ' means Is almost as rapid as cards t jin ’be fed into a job printing press. The ' work has to be done in the dimmest; of ruby lights, however, owing to the extreme sensitivenes of the emulsion ' to white light. Nothing in the En- ; i gllsh photographic methods and ap-1 pliances, it is stated, at all equals l this unique American device for the purpose intended. Some Freaks of Memory. It is not unusual to find a memory retentive on some subjects and extremely defective on others. A lady of my acquaintance could tell the : number of stairs contained in each flight in the houses in which she had ; lived, yet it seemed almost impossible i for her to retain for any length of । time a remembrance of things more । important. An actor once performing , in a play which had had aldh^run, all ; at once forgot entirely the speech he was to make When he got behind the scenes he said: “How could I be expected to remember it forever? Have I not repeated it every night for the last 200 nights?” On one occasion a gentleman had to turn to his companion, when about to leave his name at a door where they had called, to ask him what it was, so completely and suddenly had all memory of it left him. A story is told of a Frenchman who sat by his fireside reading a book, when the nurse brought him his infant heir to dandle on his knee. A friend calling upon him he forgot that he was not reading, and, throwing the child on the table as if it had been a book, he left the room. Fortunately, the the nurse was at hand to rescue the maltreated infant. A physician, having recovered from a severe illness, had utterly lost the power of speaking or writing proper names or any substantive, but memory supplied adjectives very readily, and by their application he distinguished whatever he wished to mention. If he wished to speak of any one, he would designate him by calling him by the size or color for which he was remarkable. A musician was known to call his flute a tufle, thus using all the letters of the riirht word, which it was impossible for him to speak. Another instance is related of an old lady much given to forgetting names, who was informed by her daughter that the name of a gentlej man who was to call on her w r as Mr. , Cow dry. She was drilled in a memory i lesson on the name, and when the person in question called, rose to receive him quite at her ease: “Your name is very familiar to me,” she said affably'. “Good evening, Mr. Drycow!” What Puzzled Iho Tramps. “Say, Bob,” said the tramp to his companion, who was sharing with him the grateful shade asigeadiqg Qak. tre£.would not ylel<MiSl^MKnaMttM ■l'Mffilef fener^rrom working I ain’t never had no temptashun to make a man quit work. I like to sec a man work. When I lays down to smoke my pipe and take life easy dere ain’t nothin' wat makes me feel ' so good all over as to concentrate my wishun on some f eller wot’s sweatin’ au’ slavin’ out in de hot sun for his daily bread. It just makes ,me feel contented wid me lot. By | gum! dis yere’s a free country', an’ j wot I say is de man wot wants to j work ought to be allowed to work, ; an’ I’m dead agin and man wot trys I to stop him.” “You’re dead right.” rejoined Bob ' in the same philosophic strain, “but ! I tell yer human natur’ is a mighty [ queer an’ uncertain sort o’ thing, an’ । de more I secs of it de less I under- ! stands it. Now, derc’s you an’ me. I Live an’ let live is our motto, an’ we lives up to it. We never try to stop ' nobody from workin’, an’ we never try to make nobody work wot’s got , constitutional scruples ag’in it. We j jes' goes our own way rej’icin’ an’ j bearin’ in mind de scriptural injunction about God helpin’ dem wot helps i demselves. We helps ourselves when- ' ever we gets half a chance. But dere's lots of people in dis wodd wot don’t respect our rights not lo work ■ ’cause we don’t feel like B, and dey wants to make us work. Now, I hold । dat we’s got jes’ as much right to order people to stop work as dey’s got jto order us to go to work. Wot’s de use 1 of livin’ in a free country if you can’t ; do wot you please?” But these last words wore lost on i the first speaker, for he had fallen asleep. Ho Was Dead. It was in a little country school in the mountains of Pennsylvania. One of the scholars was a bright little Irish girl whose only difficulty was in the study of geography. After much labor her teacher had succeeded in giving her a fair start, when she one । day asked the child if she knew the ■ name of tne' capital of the United ! States. J “No, ma’am,” was the reply. “Well, I will tell you, and then i you must try to remember it,” not . doubting the pupil understood the j meaning of the word “capital” as : used. “It is Washington.” With smiling eyes and dimpling I cheeks me girl exclaimed: “Why, I thought he was dead long ago!”—Free Press. - A Legless Athlete. : In London there is a cripple, entirely without legs, who is said to surpass his comrades in school in his i skill of swimming. He is further- ‘ more an excellent runner, moving [ along radidly by means of his muscular arms. Eveky man feels that he has a grievance if he pays for his wife to go away for a six week’s vacation.and i she comes back looking no younger.

The Detective’s Mistake. He was considered one of the best jln his line. The case that required ; tne most intelligent, persistent and careful work was the one that was I usually assigned to him. He had ' been at work on one for three or four ' weeks, and at last had secured what Reconsidered “clinching evidence,” It was a bribery case, and his work had been to entrap the would-be-brlber. He had done it. He had secured a single $lO note of the bribe money, tut that was enough. The envelope containing the money had : had been opened in the presence of three persons, and each had put his mark on the b : ll so that it could be identified. Naturally he was jubilant. People will be when then think they have won great victory and he had all the evidence he wanted in his pocket—an inside pocket at that. The bird was practically caught and he went home exulting. Now, mark what can happen to a man who has victory practically won but is careless. He thought of going to headquarters and depositing his evidence in a vault, but it was a long distance and then it would be better anyway to go to the chief in the morning and announce that he had bagged the game. So he took it home. (Ince or twice he thought he was followed, but when he reached home he scouted the idea, turned in and slept soundly. Robbery did not oc^ur to him. even in his dreams. In the morning—well, in the morning the money was gone. He almost fainted when he discovered the loss, and rushed into the dining room crying: “I’ve been robbed! I’ve been robbed!” “Nonsense,” replied his wife. - ‘What is missing?” “A $lO bill.” “1 took it,” she said calmly. “I wanted to pay the butcher and I didn’t want to wake you. But Ididn’t touch the money in your pocketbook, I just took that loose $lO bill that was in your inside pocket. I’ll get you another, if you need it. but I thought that was one you had put aside for me.” He didn't try to explain. lie didn’t even answer; bat he hunted up a broad, smooth sheet of water, and for an hour stood looking out over it muttering to himself. At last ba seemed to have made uphis mind. Ha hastily wrote a note to the chief, took it to headquarters and left it. A minute later he was lost in the crowd on the street. The note read: •‘Please put me back on patrol duty. Several years ago I made a serious blunder that makes me unfit for detective work. I married.” —Free Press. s. Gladstone Slighted by the Queen. ^nger of evill narkeLca^^ 011 -.-. remed 7^i *™ ' true that when ordinary ministers ' visit the Queen on official business it j is not usual to invite their wives with them, but numerous exceptions have been made to this rule. When the Duke of Rutland and Lord Salisbury have visited hoi Majesty their better halves were invariably asked with them, and there is a very strong feeling that the same courtesy ought to have been extended to Mrs. Gladstone. The fact that she was not invited to accompany her husband was made all the more marked by the reference to the retiring Prime Minister in the Court Circular, which is edited by the Queen herself. In it she says that she had accepted Lord SalFbury’e resignation “with great regr t.” There is absolutely no precedent for any observation of thekii.d in the official record of the doings of the court, and it is felt that the Queen has been guilty of a manifestation of partiality for her Tory Minister not in keeping with the unwritten law that the British ruler should observe a strictly neutral attitude toward both of the great political parties.—New York Recorder. Natural Barometers in Finland. One ot the most curious stones in the world is found in Finland, where it can be seen in many places. It is a natural barometer and actually foretells probable changes in the weather. It is called semakuir. and turns black shortly before an approaching rain, while in tine weather it is mottled with spots of white. For a long time this curious phenomenon v,as a mystery, but an analysis of the stone shows it to be a fossil mixed with clay ano containing a portion of rock salt and niter. This fact being known, the explanation was easy. The salt, absorbing the moistuv^turned black when the conditions were favorable for rain, while the dryness of the atmosphere brought out the salt from the interior of the stone in white spots on the surface. History of a Word. - The way in which the nama “bureau” became applied to articles of furniture intended for literarypurposes is rather curious. It was the custom in the days when writing waq done on parchment and when bookbinding was an expensive luxury, for those who were coua^B' 5 with literary pursuits to have tneir tables a piece of cloth of a thick nature to prevent the bookbinding receivinj’ any injury. This piece of textile fabric, originally of wool, bore in France the name of bureau, and in course of time that name has attached itself to articles of furniture which have a space protected by some material for writing operations.— Pittsburgh Dispatch. The word “grand” is misused so much that the meaning has almost become synonymous with “jay.”