The Syracuse Journal, Volume 1, Number 22, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 24 September 1908 — Page 7

CHAPTER XULz'lContinued.) "Still, I must leave (nothing undone tonight. I want the years bright for you, and I must try once mere. After all, the mother of my beloved can do no wrong.” “People might be safe away up there on the Morne d'Orange,” she said, fearfully, “but -you must pass ' to and fro through the city If’ • Gently he turned her face from the hidden city. “Look yonder into the splehdid night I” he whispered. “Feel the sting of the spray. Hear the bows sing! It’s all for us, Lara, the gilded track to the moon, the loveliest of earth’s distances—and the sky afterward I We can’t leave this great thing undone. Listen, dearest; when the dawn comes up the Madame will be lying seven or eight miles off|h shore. I’ll take the launch into the harbor, and climb the morne once more* to the big plantation house, bringing your love and mine to the mother-bird whom I owe for all things good. If she will not come with me, I shall command Uncle Joey to take her to Fort de France! After that ” She was clinging to him and sobbing. “After that?” she repeated. “We steam for Fort de France then,” he said, “and Father Damien must spare im an hour from his labors. After that, •beloved, you and I and the honeymoonout on the swinging seas I” Just now Denny Macready appeared on the bridge. “Lara, I want you to know this Denny,” s'ai<l Constable. “I found, him in a stoke-hold, and haven’t been able to get rid of pirn since. He’s my steward at sea, md butler ashore, and ‘Yours solid’ anywhere, Denny, I’m going ashore at dawn--/ ” . “ ’Tij croof t’ hear, sorr.” -“That point is pretty well covered, Denny. Il want you—that is, I’m leaving Miss Dansbury in your hands.” “Sh-ih—- wait till I putt on me gloves.” “Hom are your charges faring, Denny ?” Constable asked.. “Is us th’ little wans, you mane?” “YesAthe natives.” “If I lon’y had some goats, sorr I” “Why’goats?” ? “Sure, X’ve been potherin’4 with lime father an’ sea wather an’ watlier straight tn’ sugar aiv milk —whin goats could do at all, an’ . betther." Macready went below, leaving a laugh jn the bridge—which was no little thing. The Madame, crept in to the edge of the into the hateful haze. The ship anchorage. The launch was in below. It was six in the mornPugh,. the new third officer, was ■fust leaving the bridge.; Constable and Lara were standing at the door of his r cabin. . “I know that you could do no greater thing than this—for me,” she told him; “but when a woman comes intt> her own — as I have- —it is terrible to be left alone so soon. There are warnings in the'wind, menaces in the silence, dangers in everything. It cannot. be that I have found you, my lover, only to lose you again. Oh, come back to me quickly, dear;!” “Three hours shall see us on our way to .Fort de France,” he answered blithely. “Trust me to hurry back to you. Pelee is still now. It may- be that the pressure ' is eased ” • “There, kiss me. and don’t wait ! The very name of Pelee is horrible!” She moved with him to the ladder. “I thought I would be braver than this, Pierre Valeur!” , •" . He whispered a last word and descended. Ernst had been relieved, and another sailor was in the launch, one for whom .preparations had been made in the dim hall. Constable was happy. He waved a kiss nt the. pale, mute face leaning overside, and the fog rushed in between. CHAPTER XIV. The launch gained the inner harbor, and the white ships at anchor were seen vague phantoms in the vapor—French steamers, Italian barques, and the smaller West Indian craft —all with their work to do and their-way to win. Codstable heard one officer shout to another, inqftiring if Saint Pierre was in* the usual place, or had switched sites with Hades, The day was clearing rapidly, however, and before the launch reached shore the haze was so lifted that Pelee could be seen, floating a pennant of black out to sea. In the city a large frame warehouse was ablaze. The tinder-dry structure was being destroyed with, almost explosive speed. “Wait for me here.” Constable said to the sailor, as the launch scraped the Sugar Landing. ' ; A blistering heat rushed down' from.the expiring building to the edgefof the land. Crowds watched the destruction. Many of the people were in holiday attire! This was the Day of Ascension, .and Saint Pierre would shortly pray and praise at the cathedral. Even now the bells were calling, and there was low laughter from a group of maidens. Was it not good to live, since the sun shone again and the mountain did not answer the sainted bells? It was true that Pelee poured forth a black streamer with lightning in its folds; true that the people trod upon the hot gray dust of the volcano’s waste; that the heat was' such as no man had ever felt before and many sat in misery upon the ground; true, indeed that voices of hysteria came from the hovels, and the breath of uncovered death from the byways—but the gala spirit not dead. The bells were calling; the mountain was still; bright dresses were abroad—for the torrid children of France must laugh. Constable fell in with the procession on the way to the cathedral. Reaching there, he climbed to a huge block of stone ‘ in the square, and hurled broadcast the germ us flight. Many had seen him before, when his face was haggard. He was smiling now. There was color in his skin, fire in his eyes, a ring in his voice. Fear was not in him. A carriage was not procurable, so he toward the Morne d’Orange. It

was seven-thirty, and the distance was two miles to the plantation house. At eight, or soon afterward, he would be there-— eight on the morning of Ascension Day; at nine, in the launch again, speeding out to the smile of the bride! Twenty,times a minute she recurred to him as he walked. There was no waning nor wearing-—save a wearing brighter, perhaps—of the images she had put in his mind. The night had brought him palaces and gardens find treasure houses; everywhere he turned,' new riches broke upon him. That her face had lain between his hands ; that his hands had brought that face to his own; that her whispers, kisses, confidences, her prayers and passions and coming years, all found their center and origin in himself, like bright doves that had a cote within his heart—these thoughts lifted the poor man to such heights of praise and blessedness that he seemed to shatter the dome of human limitations, and emerge crown and shoulders into the illimitable ether. The road up the morne stretched blinding white before him; Panting and spent not a little, he strode upward through the vicious pressure of heat, holding his helmet free from, his head, that the air might circulate u fide r the rim. At length, upon the crest of the morne, he perceived the gables of the plantation house,' above the palms and mangoes, gold-brown in the dazzling haze. 1 Pelee roared. Sullen and dreadful out of the silence voiced the monster, rossed to his labor afresh. '( The’ American began 'to run, glancing biq'k at the darkening north. * * A .'.The crisis was not passed in favor ,ofi.ji?eace. The holiday was darkened. The? Madame would fill with refugees now, and the road to Fort de France turn black with flight. These were his thoughts as he ran. - The lights of the day burned out > one by one. The cifust'of the earth stretched to a cracking tension. The air was beetling with strange concussions. In the clutch of realization, he turned one shining look toward the sea. Detonations accumulated into the crash of a thousand navies. On the porch of the plantation house, twenty yards away,, stood the mother of Lara, her eyes, fascinated, lost, in the north. At the steps he fell, caught her skirt, her waist, in his hands. Across the lawn, through the roaring black, he bore her, brushing her fingers and hfr fallen hair from his face. He reached the curbing of the old well with his burden, crawled over, and -grasped the rusty chain. Incandescent tongues lapped the cistern’s raised coping, and running streams of red dust filtered down. It was eight in the morning of Ascension Day. La Montagne Pelee was giving birth to Death. ■ CHAPTER XV. Whep the launch entered' the denser cloud- and faded from -her sight, Miss Stansbury retired to the "cabin. Over all her thoughts of the unhallowed parting from her mother the night before, and the clean, valorous act of her lover now, hung the defined terror lest Pelee should intervene. She heard Macready’s step at the door; the c,alm voice of an officer on the bridge; the morning bells. The pale winding sheet was unwrapped from 'the beauty of morning. ThrHigh a port-hole she saw the.rose and gold on the far, dim hills. Her eyes Smarted from weariness, but her mind, like an automatic thing, swept around the great circle—from the ship to the city, to the house beyond the morne and back again. She saw him in the launch, in the midst of native groups on the shore, in- the plantation house, begging her mother to listen, importuning Uncle Joey to take, her to Fort de France, returning through th,e streets with people following—the crowded launch, and then the joy of empty arms- filled., But sometimes Pelee would'burst into the deepening channel of thoughts, effacing'the whole, and leaving her, a shrieking, dishevelled' creature, in the midst of a chaos which would not answer. . She went on deck*. Laird, first - officer, invited her . tp ascend the bridge. He was scrutinzing through the glass a blotch of smoke on the city front. “What do you make of it, Miss Stansbury?” he asked. The lenses brought to her a nucleus of red in the black bank. The rest of Saint Pierre was a gray doll settlement, set in the shelter of little gray hills. She could see the riven and Castellated crest of Pelee, weaving his black ribbon. It was all small, silent and unearthly. “That’s a fire on. the shore,” she said. “Exactly,” said Laird. Shortly afterward the trumpetings of the monster began. The harbor grew yellowish-black. The Shore crawled deeper into the shroud, and was lost altogether. The water .took on a foul look, as if the bed of the sea, were churned with some beastly passion. The anchor chain drew taut, mysteriously strained, and banged a tattoo against the steel-bound eye. Blue Peter, drooping at the foremast, livened suddenly into a spasm of writhing, like,a hooked lizard. The black, quivering columns of smoke from the funnels were fanned down upon the'deck, adding soot to the white smear from, the volcano. Lara felt Macready pulling at her arm, “Ye musht go below, miss. Ye know me-ordhers.” She rebelled with Sudden vehemence, declaring that she would smother down there. ‘ “You can do no good here, sure. Don’t makd it crool fur me?” # “Make haste below, miss—squall coming I” .commanded Laird. Gentleness and jollity were gone from the large red faee. She suffered herself fib be drawn down the ladder, crushed by the officer’s woj-ds, and the iron fingers of fear closing ahdub her heart. A hot, fetid breath* Aarged the air. The water danced, alive with the yeast of worlds. The disordered sky intoned violence. Pelee had set the foundations to trembling". Lara drifted into the open polar region, Despair. These men were all his friends.

She must not hinder them. They had much to do. Her part was self-effacement. In the darkening passageway she beard Laird shouting orders above, heard him command the native women to “tumble below,” and the sailors to seal the ways after them, heard the deep sea language and —“barometer” • • * “Constable” ♦ * * There were running feet, bells below, cries from the native women, quick oaths from the sailors. The ship rose and settled like a feather in a breeze. She was incapable of swift action. Macready lifted her into the cabin and slammed the door, rushed to the ports and screwed them tight with lightning fingers, led her to a chair and locked it in its socket. “That’s-the deere,” he said breathlessly. “Shud so much as a shpark from the mountain raise so much as a bloosh upon your cheek, sure I’d niver be able t face Mr. Constable again, but go on sthokin foriver an’ iver.” “It’s very good of you,” she answered dully. She sat very still, not daring to relax the rigid tension of her face, her hands, or her brain, lest the scream of madness break forth. From out the shoreward darkness thundered vibrations which rendered soundless all that had passed before. Comets flashed by the port holes. The ship shuddered and fell to her starboard side. Eight bells had just sounded when the great thunder rocked over the gray-black harbor, and the molten vitals of the monster, wrapped in a black cloud, filled the heavens, gathered themselves, and plunged down upon the city and the sea. As for the de Stael, eight miles from shore and twelve miles from the. craters, she seemed to have fallen from a habitable planet into the fire-mist o's an unfinished world. She heeled over like a biscuit tin, dipping her bridge and gunwales. She was deluged by' blasts of steam and molten stone. Her anchor chain gave way, and, burning in a half-dozen places, she was aucked in-shore. (To be continued.) FLO’S PHOTOGRAPHS. Her Boy Friends Were Always Giving Her Their Pictures. “Don’t you think Kent Hampton’s last photograph is a splendid one?” Flo Davol asked, carelessly. A swift color flashed across Rachel Hill’s face. She tried to make her voice indifferent, but the hurt would show a little. ■_ > “I haven’t seen it,” she replied. “Haven’t seen it?” Flo echoed. “How queer, when you are such friends! I have it somewhere herq——" •She began hunting through the photographs crowding her desk. They w'ere nearly all photographs of boys or young men, and Kent's was clearly in sight, as Rachel, with a flash of contempt, saw at once, although it was several minutes before Flo apparently discovered it. Then she handed it to Rachel. Her whole elaborate, overdressed little figure betrayed her delight in her pretty triumph. “It certainly is queer that he didn’t give you- one,” she repeated, “but the boys are always giving things to me. Really, I don’t know what to do with half of them!” As Rachel walked home through the September afternoon her eyes were full of bitterness. Why was it, she wondered, that girls like Flo got so much more than their shpre of good times and — things? . She would not have cared about the others, but Kent Hampton, who had been her playmate ever since she could remember, and was going away to college in two days. Oh, Flo could have had anything else if she. only had' not spoiled that dear Hold friendship. ' ' j ' That evening Kent came oyer 1 with his chum —who was also Rachel’s cousin—Tom Calverly. Usually the three had the happiest of evenings, but this time something was plainly wrong. The boys kept up their nonsense,, but it did not “go” as usual. Finally Tom remarked of something: ‘Mt’s dead easy—as easy as one of Flo Davol’s photographs—eh, Kent?” Rachel grew red, then pale. “I should think you’d be ashamed!” she cried, facing them indignantly. The boys stared at each other in perplexity. “To joke over a girl when you give her your picture,” she'stammered. “It —it’s contemptible!” Kent’s lips tightened, but Tom whistled Softly. “Look ’here*, Ray,” be asked, “don’t you know, honest?” “Know what?” Rachel inquired. “The way she gets those pictures She gets them by asking—that’s how. She asks so that a fellow can’t refuse unless he’s a brute. I guess I have half a dozen of hers somewhere round. Kent, here, is such a Sir Galahad he burns them—says it’s not fair to have them lying round, even if the girl did force them on you.” “Oh!” Rahel cried, softly. But up in her room that night she 1 looked out with happy eyes into the dark. It was so good to keep one’s friends on the old high terms—it was so good to keep one’s self-respect!— Youth’s Companion. Not So Useless, Either. “Wildcat mining stocks are not altogether useless- —or worthless, either,” said a New York broker who handles cheap mining stocks the other day as he hung up the telephone receiver. “Here’s a man who just offered me SSO for enough mining stocks to have a face value of $50,000. He wasn’t particular what stocks he got if they only had a paper value of $50,000. I closed the deal and shall make money on it, too. What did he want with such stocks? Well, I haven’t the slightest doubt but that he is .getting ready to gp into the bankruptcy court and wants to show his creditors where his money has been dropped. We often get such requests and are usually able to fill item*”

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Nobody Knows but Mother. How manj’ buttons are missing, to-day? Nobody knows but mother.. How many- playthings are strewn ip her way? . Nobody knows but mother?— How many thimbles and spools has missed? • How many burns on each fat little fist. How many bumps to :be cuddled and kissed ? ; Nobody knows but mother. How many hats has she hunted to-day? Nobody knows but (mother. Carelessly hiding themselves in the hay? Nobody knows but imofher. How many handkerchiefs willfully strayed, | ‘ How many ribbons for each little maid? How, for her care, can a mother be paid? Nobody knows but mother. How many muddy shoes all in a row? Nobody knows but; mother. How many stockings: to darn, do you know ? Nobody knows but mother. How many torn little;aprons to mend? How many hours of toil must she spend? What is the time when her day’s work will end*? Nobody knows but mother. How many lunches for Tommy and Sam? Nobody knows but mother. Cookies and apples and blackberry jam? Nobody knows but mother. ' Nourishing dainties for every "sweet tooth.” ' - - Toddling Dottie or dignified Ruth, How much love sweetens the labor, forsooth? Nobody knows bdt mother. How many cares d-oes a mother heart know? Nobody knows but mother. How many joys from her mother Ipve flow ? Nobody knows but mother. How many prayers by each little white bed. How many tears fblr her babes' 1 has she shed,

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How many kisses for each curly head? Nobody knows but mother. Wearing Five Button*. Girls have gone! in Chinese fashions, such as the mandarin jacket, the kimono sleeve, the chrysanthemum embroidery, but the wearing of five buttons on the co it of jacket* is a nex* idea, unknown to tlie many. \ Thd Chinese wear these five buttons to remind them of the five chief moral virtues- which were recommended v by Confucius. These are: Humanity, justice, order. rectitude and prudence. . Dotted Foulard.

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A gown spelling smartness with capital, letters is shown in the illustration. Iti is white foulard with brown ringi dots and the scallops on either side of hedice and bordering yoke of white eyelet embroidered silk are edged with harrow brown velvet ribbon. There

is a band of white lace at bottom of yoke matching that used on sleeves. Girdle of brown velvet ribbon has long ends finished with brown silk tassels. Electrical Carling Iron. Every young lady should rejoice in the possession of the electrical curling iron recently invented and patented by

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curling iron. each curl to reheat the iron. The time thus consumed is eliminated with the use of the electrL cal curler, as heat Is furnished continuously to the curling iron. The necessary heat is obtained by connection with an adjacent incandescent lamp socket, provision naturally being made to avoid any electric shock. The tool is simple and handy to operate, with no complicated mechanism to worry abqut. The inventor claims that only one-quar-ter the time is required to curl the "hair with the electrical curler as compared with the ordinary implement. New Idea for Packing. A business woman who makes frequent trips abroad has evolved an excellent idea for keeping her gown in good condition. Her plan entails considerable work at first, as she makes pasteboard packing boards and covers them with cheap percale. When these cases are slipped hover the board the ends are sewed up and tapes to fasten in the gown securely are sewed to the cover at, equal distances on each side and on the.ends, that tie in the center. The garment is thus held secure, In laying in the skirt all the plaits, tucks

NEW HAIR DRESSING STYLES ARE DIRECTOIRE TOO.

and other fullness are smoothed in place as it would naturally hang. Each gown or skirt and shirtwaist has its pasteboard, that has been cut just small enough to fit inside the trunk. With this arrangement a dress may be taken from the trunk without disarranging anv of the others. Too Much Hot Water. \ Because a thing is gobd to do or use under certain circumstances does not inetln that it is the'best for all occasions. . - ' We hear much about the benefits of drinking hot water, therefore everyone who has a Slight indigestion immediately takes to drinking water as hot as can be swallowed in immoderate quantities. Tins is a mistake. ' Water'too fiot weakens the lining of the stomach. It should rarely be used at boiling point, and sipped very slowly at least. Remember that hot water is an excitant, and in certain cases* should be avoided. It is not especially good for those who have irritability of the heart, or for those who are suffering from dilated stomachs or Sourness of the ach. Often cold, but not ice, water acts as more of a tpnic than hot water. The only way to discover the relative effects is to try thoroughly both kinds. Water of some kind find in quantities is, however, essential to good health. What He Looks At. Some men can take in all a girl wears; the average man sees if she be the kind he likes —or the othei*kind. If he can not go into details he can, however, see whether— Her shoes are run down at the heels or any of the buttons are gone. Her gloves have holes in the tips and would be better for soap suds or gasoline. She looks “band-boxy” or as if she had never heard of pressing. She is spotty or slouchy or neat and trim. Men may be impressionists as to colors a and materials; they are etchers When it comes to noticing little things that bespeak slovenliness. Do not forget, girls, that it is by such little things that you are judged, rather than by what you pay for your clothes or how well you carry them. Widens of Ex-President*. Mrs. James A. Garfield, Mrs. Benjamin Harrison and Mrs. Grover Cleveland, three widows of ex-Presidents,

are now living. The Presidents have usually died before their wives, as the work of the chief executive of the natibn generally uses most of the vitality of the man engaged in it. Mrs.. Garfield spends much of her time in Washington, where her son lives, and divides the rest between her old home in Ohio and Pasadena, Cal. She is a gentle, Sweet woman, always ready to speak of her husband.. Mrs. Garfield receives a pension of $5,000 a year. Mrs. Benjamin Harrisoii married President Harrison after he left the White house, and she does not receive a pension. Mrs. McKinley also received the $5,000 pension up to the time of her death. About No«e«. If the nose is sharp and turns downward it indicates keen business ability and a tendency to be both miserly and sharp-tongued. A long, straight nose shows a. tranquil. reserved nature, and a short nose a propensity to quarrel, combined with an inborn love of a good time. The nose that is too deeply indented at the root, shows a lack of, courage and decision, while a nose sloping directly out from the forehead with no such mark between the eyes indicates a strong sense of power. q Let such a nose siiow a slight indentation, however, and it will be a Rapable, self-reliant sort Os a girl, who does everything well and makes no fuss about it. j • t. Pretty Candlesticks. I “In a bedroom decorated with chintz it is a pretty idea to make the caiidle shades to match,” says Woman’s Hbme Companion for September. “Out! of good carboard cut a perfectly rojund circle (the size required for the shaded and in the center of this draw a small circle. Then, after cutting the larger circle exactly i(n half, cut out the top half circle. Fit the chintz over the

a Missouri man, especially so as the present fashion of hair dressing calls Jor" numberless curls. With the ordinary hair curler she must patiently hold the end of the iron over the gas flame after making

cardboard, paste down smoothly, and baste silk seam binding tlround the edges and down the open sides. Stitch on the machine all around the edge of the binding, and then, holding the sides together, stitch down twice.” Latest Lingerie Blouse.

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It is built of extra sheer nainsook, ir tucks that run up and down and also across. The divisions are marked with bands of lace, and three rosettes of black satin ribbon run down one side. The finish of the sleeves is odd and quite pretty, with a band of satin between two plaitings of muslin. For Young Mothers. A soft sponge should be used for bathing the baby's body, limbs and scalp. There should be a separate washing cloth for the face. When used frequently sponges become dirty and are liable to eause infection of' the eyes. For this reason they should not be used for washing the face. A new sponge should be purchased whenever the old one does not become wholly clean when washed in boiling water. For a Discolored Neele. For a discolored neck apply cucumbers cut in strips, binding them to the neck and keeping them on all night. In the morning wash off and rub well with cold cream; then wipe the neck with a soft towel. Repeat this treatment until the discoloration disappears. ; ■

PASSING OP THE SOD HOUSE. Kansas Editor Dwells Upon the Only American Ruins. Slowly from the broad wind-swept plains of Kansas the sod house in passing away. Its walls are crumbling and falling under the attacks of a damper jlimate or are carried away by the hot Kansas winds. The sod house is emblematic of our early settlement. It stands for the struggles and trials, ( the dangers and privations, the perseverance and determination of our fathers. It was there that they first saw the light, of a Kansas morning; it was there that their baby hands played alone; it was there that their force of character was created. They say in Europe that we have no ruins exemplifying nobility, high moral and spiritual character, chivalrous leeds and royal power. But on the plains where the old sod house crumbles alone are ruins grand, noble and royal. Why are they grand? Because from the dust of the ee.rth a man built up a habitation with his own hands wherein to live with his family and, his God. Why are they noble? Because they were the palaces of nature’s noblemen. Why are they royal? Because a king lived there, the man, ruling In princely state over his kingdom. They ask for the “Holy Grail” and show them the house of a frontier pastor. He Is the “Parsifal” of Kangas. They speak of chivalry. The men who stood on the’thresholds' of their homes and fought hand to hand the ted demons of the prairies hold high places with the knights of old. They fought the same, they bled the same, they died the same. The -sod house has held as noble a race as any gorgeous dazzling palace Iq Europe. From its rough doors have Issued a great poet, as great ah orator, as great a statesman, as great a philosopher, as great a preacher as has »me from the brilliant setting of European civilization. , Alone now It rests on the plains, soil:ary In Its. ruins. . O’er , its moldering walls the weeds climb undisturbed. The yr ass encroaches slowly on the' ground fallowed bj" the press of many feet. The squirrels sport recklessly where Mice was the noise of active life. Now ill Is solitude. In the midst of the throbbing, onrushing civilization the sod house still fives mute testimony of the life that was once Its ov.m, of the time when It was a palace anddts ownefr a king.— Oberlin Times.

J Wit of the Youngsters -ft

Minister (to Flossie )„—And do you J ways do as mamma {tells you? Flossie—¥ou bet I do —and so does papa. “Animals,” said the teacher, “frejuently become attached to people, but plants never do.” “How about burs, :eacher?” queried the small boy at thd foot of the class. * The teacheri was giving the juvenile flass a lesson in punctuation. “What s that?” she asked of a sm’all pupil, jointing to a period. “That,” answered the little one, “is the lid off an i,” Elsie—What are goose eggs in a jaseball match? Harry—They are Inlings when ro runs are made. Why fid you ask? Elsie—Oh, I thought liaybe they were laid by the fouls In the game. Black Forest,Customs. The peasant farms o£ the Black Forest are handed down from father to sbn in a direct line, often dating back 100 years. There is no division, as in France; all falls tb the heir,’ only here it is not, the eldest, hut the young?st son who Inherits. It is rare that a 3ur (peasant) dies as reigning head. When he gets on in years he abdicates; in order to end his days in the lelbgedlngehaus (dower house), which stands beside each hos (steading). That he does' so in favor of his youngest son is very sensible; wefe it the cider he would have no peace; for as soon as he married he would try to induce his parents to retire just at an age when power Is sweetest and best exercised. For this reason the practical farriiers of bygone generations decided to hand over t(je succession to the youngest, since when Benjamin Is a full-grown man father Jacob Is old and glad to rest. This law of Inheritance goes J»y the name of vortel. Should the heir of his own free will desire to resign In favor of his elder brother the latter must buy the property from him. In such a case the younger may be termed a kind of Esau. —Antiquary. What Ensllsh Boys Do Not. Know. The boy of 14 ortlG knows nothing whatever, ai>out the principles of local government qs he should; he knows nothing abnit the great questions which constantly arise in the detenniiation of the relations of the rich and the poor; he knows nothing of the way In which money Is banked, companies made, and shares bought and sold. He jould write you a fine essay about Ollrer Cromw«ll, but not a line about Mr. Asquith, wio matters much more to blm.—Chambers’ Journal. Europe’s production of beet sugar In :he season of 1907-’OB was 6,552,000 tons, a decrease of 158,000 tons from lOOG-’OT anC 380,000 tons from 1905-’O6-Germany ltd in 1907-’OB with 2,133,XX) tons, followed by Austria-Hun-gary with 1,440,000 1 Russia with L 410.000.