Walkerton Independent, Volume 25, Number 6, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 26 August 1899 — Page 2

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CHAPTER V. Ghid • received th<- news of that en gai;-■!.■ :!• with triumph that was yet half •,« ,• :n :-. Si:-, ii. ■ Mrs A alley, had always more than half suspected that. Lent re preferred Cyril: now. she said to iers. . that she had tM*en wrong there could oe no inducement except real lore j m this marriage; there was neither wealth nor title. "N it was Austin all the time," she •aid, "and I have been wearing my life • way with anxiety, thinking it was Cyril i Even if it had been—if they had been on- J gaged twenty times over—l should have I kept my vow." May passed with its harebells and haw thorns; June came with its roses and Sties•. July, with its blaze of scarlet poppies and full-blown limes. That summer js . the marriage was to take maw. l>,w it ^g^B^rould be when summer was waning Lenose walked one mormug .h. h, 9 liarwa Woods. s " there had me.'Ojon her a spirit at wtst; could nMt tell why or wherefore —a terrible spirit, that made the four walls of a room utterly tiaLear able to her, that drove her out to the woods and the fields, always seeking counsel from her own heart and finding

none. What ailed her. what i»e sessed her. what had gone wrong in her life?— •he. who ought to have been happier than «ny other. On this morning the convercation had turned upon her wedding dress. Gladie was vitally interested in it, not forgetting to put in a plea about her own. “I must have something very nice.” •he said. "Sir Cyril is sure to come to your wedding. Lenore; if I am your bridemaid he will be your best man. and we shall be thrown together." A very natural speech. Lenore felt that ■ ft was so. yet it made her angry, so irri-1 tated. that she could no longer talk pleas-; antly to her mother about muslin and silk. I The room seemed small and close; every word uttered by everybody seemed tire- j tome. She said to herself that she was overtired, onl she inns: go out; yet. when ! abe was out in the beautiful sunshine, the ’ • sense of irritation remained with her. Sue stood at the white-barred gate which led to the entrance of Barton Wood. She sighed as she watched a bright-winged pheasant; life was not all she had pic-’ tured it; the fancies and dreams of her girlhood were not realized. “I seem to have missed something.” she said, “and 1 cannot tell what 1 have • mased.” At that moment she caught sight of a man's figure crosslug the wood. Why I should her face Cush a hot crimson that | almost pained her. then grow white as a •now drop—white ev<n to the lips; Why should her hands tremble and her brain reel? It was Cyril: there couid be n< mistake. Cyril, the knight, with the - £er’s erect carriage and the knightly air of dignity; Cyril, her old friend and p fellow, whom she had ku wn a- b - “TfllF~had known Austin—Cyril, whom, of

eourse, she admired very much, as did every one who knew him. What was the mist that Deemed to spread out in the air between himself and her? She seemed dazed and half bewildered. “I must have feit frightened." she said to herself in halt pitied excuse for her own emotion. “Yet why should the sight »f Cyril frighten me?" “Lenore!” cried a cheery voice, full of deep, rich music; "Lenore!” She was utterly unable to answer; she raised her beautiful, colorless face with something of the dauntless spirit which burned in her gallant father's ’ reast when he faced the Sepoys’ tire. “Lenore!” The cry was repeated, then came the wash of strong footsteps among the liracken and the fern. Then a.dark, hand-1 acme face was smiling into hers—a face I full of fire and passion and power: dark eyes, full of something before which her own felt “Leiore," he said, "how strange that I should meet you. how strange that I should find you here. I was going to the Manor House purposely to see you." Why could she not answer him? Why ahe^kj her pale face grow paler, and her hands tremble from his clasp? He looked half surprised, half amused. The man, never lived yet whom feminine timidity^’ did not flatter, or a girl's pretty coyness disarm. “Absence has been a bad friend to me, Lenore!” he said. “Have you not one word of greeting for me? I have been away all these months, yet you have not one word when I return.” “I did not know you had returned," she said, shyly. “1 was going to «ay that 1 hardly knew ft myself,” he replied. "I wonder if you! can guess at all whv I came. Lenore'-" “I-no—l never can guex anything,"! 1 you mu*t civil t , \ n . \ * -“I remember the hos it well' a* 1 j •By that you are ph to

“1 am much pleased to see you ” s' ' •aid. But why did the tou< h or his strong ftugers on her baud make her heart beat •nd her whole frame tremble? She had . •haken hands with him a hundred times before. ■’Lenore," he cried, half impatientlv, “I do not believe 'hat you are pleased to me." Then she roused herself, for she heard •ornething like pain in his voice. "Indeed I am much pleased,” sho hastened to answer; "why should I be anything else.' But even now you have not told me when you came, whom you have •een. or if you have heard any news.” She spoke rapidly, as though she would fain give him so much to answer that ht i should not have time for any ideas of his own. 1 am remiss not to have explained my-1 self bef,.-.” he said. "I tel! you it was t- s dream of he music of the river, ami joe: voice with it. wh ch brought me aome. I reached East wold late last night, »o .ate that few of the servants were up. : , I rose early this mornim.-; c y mind, ami ■ brum, and heart were so full of one idea, 1 could not sleep; ami then I have wandered about here, longing for the hour when etiquette would permit me to call at the Manor House to see you: so that I bavand the housekeeper, not even to my dear and faithful friend Austin." She started again, as -hough some keen, secret pain stirred her. He did not aotice it.

"Then too have heard no news?" she *4 d to him. "No; there oouid be none which would; m’erest me." he replied. Site couM not tell h< w it was, but she hud a fee-, passionate longing for him to j now a; once that she was going to be j nut ried; yet she < ould not tell him, she . , >; d urn knew why or wherefore, but she [ • c.d me. So they v. H.dered down the J Ij river banks, the bright ■ beauty of the morning beating high in their hearts, love, hope and fear thrilling ' like the pulse of youth. j I have come from a long distance to say something.” he said, "and now that 1 am here, 1 lack the courage to begin.” "1 do not believe that yon ever lacked courage for anything," she answered. CHAPTER VI. l.'-t me look at you." Ue said; “mid i see if jo;, are what my dreams pictured I you far away.” t She did not raise her head, as sho r would once have done, with proud, petu- » lam grace ami a sharp repartee; her - beautiful head dropped from h m. and sho ‘ j spoke no word. J "^es." he said, "you are more heauti-I J fui. Lemire, even more beautifm' than mv ;

11 dreams had pictured you. But there is -! something new in your face- something I i have never seen there before.” ”1 do not think I have changed at all," she answered. "You have been so accustomed to the Welsh faces lately, that you hare forgotten what the English ones are like. Are the Welsh faces very handsome. Sir Cyril?” "Yes; but. Lenore. I did not leave Cing fad. all in confusion, to talk about Welsh faces—that I am quite sure.” "Probably not." she replied. "Lenore -nay. do not look at the river, look at me. Ah. my darling, what words I have I to tell you what brought me here? j I have come to tell yon, and I stand abashed before your innocence an 1 good- . ness. before your grace and beauty abash cd and silent—l want to tell you that I ! love you. Ymi have turned your fa e ■ <rom me, and I want > say bow much I j love you. how dear you are to me—tow : every hope that 1 have in the wide world .s centered in the one longing to make vou ' my wife." Each w >rd thrilled her with a keen i sense of delight which half frightened uer, with a keen despair that dismivej her. What did this tumult of h-art and • brain mean? What h■ I come m. - h. -•> She. who never in all her life h. ’ fenre I the looks or w or is of man or woman, n >w | would have given the world to have es- | caped from herself. She was frightened at herself. She was powerless to inter nipt him. She knew that ■ lU s; . j that she jm list tell him «hv was • . In: ir ! ried in a few weeks' time; but th.- mrent of pass.onate words wan .ike - . - -■ .... gg ■ , -ense*. It -cem< d v. t-r • it g , j ; there atm . u crever to tue pas-

d s:onate words. They lulled her into obe livion. He wont on. never heeding the r trance in which she had lost herself. j “1 loved you. Lenore, from the moment I -nw you. aud my love will be as warm i ] and true, as deep and lasting, as frosh ■ ami vivid on the day of my death as it is now; it can never alter or change, it can never grow less, or grow cold." Her lips parted iu a great tearless sob. He went on: "So I take your hands in mine. Nay, you must not shrink from my touch, niy darling. I pledge you my faith; rnen love according to their nature, some warmly, some coldly, some with the very tire us impetuosity and passion; that is how 1 love you, my heart's darling. I could not pretend to say that I submit to your wishes, that you can take me or reject me as you please. I say you must take me. you must give me your heart, your love, your life; you must be mine, by the sweetest ol aims, the dearest of ties, but mine you must be. I could brook no denial; my love is my life.” She flung herself on the ground on her face, with a sudden, passionate cry. The truth had suddenly dawned across her—she had mistaken pity for love; -he had promised to marry Austin, while .-he loved Sir Cyril with her whole heart. ' He raised her in his arms; that one passionate despairing cry rang in his ears forever afterward. "My darling Lenore, what is it?" he asked. "What is the matter?” "I should have told you at first.” she said, "but I could not. 1 have promised to marry Austin in a few weeks from now.” He stood quite still for one moment as she moved away from him, with a look on his face that she never forgot, a look that, in the after years, she re- : membered against him. "No man shall take you from me,” he are mine by right of my r ■ " T' • N-. man I.".:! tnk>- v>.u from! ' - I • another II can yo i marry Austin ' hen you love n>i • 1 am sure jou love

"Yts." -he answered, in a dull, ] ow v,) we; "I love you. Cyril: I see it all now - * aid not understand it before. [ thought I loved Austin, and when he asked me to marry him I said ‘ves ’ I mistook pity for love.” But, my darling, why despond? Austin is the most generous man I ever knew; when he understands that it was । a mistakr nothing more than a terrible i will release you from your । promise. I am sure of it, as I am of my i own life. . Neither do I doubt it. if I asked him.” she said: “but I can m-.er ask him. He gave up an his hopes, he gave up everyI thing for me. I can never ask him to , reiea-e me; but for me he would have I s‘ r ’f°ycelyn's heir, not you, Cyril.” j"y stood in silence that neither car"d to break, em h feeling that it was for the last time they were together-and a> ■!!<■. then Nir Cyril said, suddenly: 1 cannot stay in England, Lenore; I I shall go far away, to the utmost end’of J <-an sacrifice my hopes and : happiness, but 1 could nm remain here i to see you the wife of anoth. r; 1 must . \es J quite agree with vou - you are I ! T'tit • right it is well tl nt J sho'':!.! ' go. I shall do my duty," : q n . , a jd_ > . grandest of men have died with a sn ile ' Doing that. I -hall live with a smile ’.m my taco, and that will be, perhaps, all | the more diilbmlt; but. Cyrii*. you must i : not waste your life in loving me." “Do yon call it wasted." Lenore? 1 | would rather love you and be miserable 1

I t,r> my love than blessed In the dearest love of nnother. Lenore, you are my fate, you are my twin soul! you are the f other half of my life and my heart! i .Something tells me that we shall not al- . ways be parted.’’ "But in the men nt line?" she said slow- ! ly. । "There are other world.- besides this, my darling. If 1 do not find you here 1 shall t ml yon in another life; i shall live , in that hope, it in no other.” CHAPTER VIL The gue-ts invited to the wedding had j most of them g. ne. and s; r (’yril would fain have hurried away, but that Mrs. Audley seemed to < ling to his presence. Ue Stood now under the waving limes - Mt-. Audh'y had said good by to him—- , the lawn where s<> many ladies had laughed and talked was deserted the red. round sun was setting. Something void and chill crept into the nir; he stood trying to collect his scattered thoughts

iml faculties, trying to look his buried life in the face once more, when Gladie . came slowly and gently up to him. She I looked very beautiful in this the light of : the setting -tin; she was not Lenore, but ! -he had lived near her; she seemed to 1 ladong to her. and his heart softened I to her. "How sad it all soems. Sir Cyril." she -.iid. After all, there is more sadness ■■ Hng; I wonder how it is. Perhaps one realizes how uncertain human love is; when it seems most certain, how strangely sad and silent it is. He seem to be the only two left in the wide world now.” She was quick enough to see that his face softimed. while his eyes tilled with a tender light. She thought it was herself who caused the change—she did not think of the lost Ignore, j Now, tell me. she said, "why are yon going away why can you not innke up your mind to live at Eastwidd, to take the uood heaven has given you and be happy ? He smiled sadly. Ah, why, Gladif? J wonder why? Perhaps because men are never Satisfied, But you will feel sad enough- I need not add one thought. I ’

win «ay good by to you." “Good-by." she repeated. with a strange whitening of her beautiful |jp ß . "do you mean that I am not to see you I again ”1 leave to-morrow morning, and It 1 may bo years before 1 return. Good by. : Gladie! You have been a dear friend to ‘ me. If 1 ever return I will thank you ’ for your friendship better than I can do । now." , Her face bad grown quite colorlcM. She held his I tml tightly clasp, ] j n her own. but that close pressure was all uq. heeded by him. . Then, down the broad, green path aha ( saw the kingly figure of the man sho , loved erect, haughty, ami rarrbas, ret [ with the mark of haggard - rrow in l»U pale, proud fnco 1: nnid f . her that h« r very heart h ft her and went out to him. She hasti -u. J after bin If. looked at her in simp), earnest w i id.-r, "Gladie." he said, n y dear child, is it • you? Yon started me ” I caw, > ?.e ' !•?, “bi 1 wanted' to see y«r.i . r„ c h. s • He storped. and they sat down on the trunk of a tree that hid fallen a. toss the pathway; thm h< Lok d at her fl o be eon! nm <i i Great Worker* * . ep l.mlr S. me of the greatest w of our ■ day have done w th mm L less tl.an cig: hours of edeep Dr. James Legg' profe-sor of Chin- -e in ’: I'n v. r* •v j Os Oxford, who has r< :.;y d-•!. at; I the age of S 2. it si, I, was in the i I haLlt of rising at !’. a. in., ai I allow . g j J himself only tb hour* of sleep. Bru | : n I. lue famous im .. , for a cous.dcrabie pat. of h.» life, worked ueany

* ’ - twenty hours a day. Nir George A. Elliott, afterward Lord Heathfleld. who was in command throughout the great selgo of Gibraltar, which lasted four years, never during all that time slept more than four hours out of the twenty-four. He lived to the age of S 4. "As I get old,” said Huml>oldt. "I want more sleep four hour- at least. When 1 was young two hours of sleep was quite enough fur me." (»n Prof. Max Muller hinting that he found this a hard saying. Humboldt said: "It Is quite a mistake, though It is very widely spread, that we want seven or eight hours of sleep. When I was your age I simply lay down on the sofa, turned down my lamp, and after two hours’ sleep I was as fresh as ever. He lived to be 89. These examples are. to use the consecrated phrase of the haglographers. more for admiration than for Imltaion. but they serve to show that longevity ami a small allowance of sleep are not in all cases Incompatible.—British Medical Journal. Smuggler- ILoind by Oaths. Smuggling still forms a regular and I oath-bound secret profession in the land of the hidalgos. Its operations have lately been quite active about the coast near Gibraltar. Several : murders have been committed recently on Spanish soil near the British frontiers by a band of smugglers, the victims being memlhrs of the "Compania Tabacolera,” a sort of customs detectives for the prevention of tobacco smuggling. Upon request of the Spanish authorities the chief of the Gibraltar police, accompanied by a marine police otlicf r nu>l a lieutenant ■ bun,, h 1., th. Lack ,\f :n, V roW' 1 ' s ' av< h some eaves. XX th the ahi o f ,Ope ladder- ' hey entered a cave nt the

height of seventy feet from the s>.a, where they found a Spaniard, one of ten murderers, guarding part of the band’s provisions and stock. The bandit gave considerable trouble to the invaders of •nered and .n a wounded condition lowered to the boat by means of ropes. I n times of yore these caves of Gibraltar have been the lurking haunts of pirates and smugglers. Speaking of his name, General Fitzhugh Lee said not long ago; “it has been a heavy load. 1 have the reputation of a lot of ancestors as well as my own to look after. Whatever good I ha\e done has been credited to them and whatever of evil has been charged to me and magnified, because people ] said they had a right to expect much 1 better things of a man of my blood and ; breeding. When [ was running for 1 Governor of Virginia John Wise said iha 1 jf niy name had been Fitzhugh Smith I never would have secured the i mmunation. 1 replied that I had known ] a good many good men named Smith ’ an<l would have been as proud of that i name as of the one I bore. i„ that way I gm the votes of the Smiths in Virginia ami a letter from a man who told । me -never to for-jet John Smith, our first -etiler who kill d Pocahontas.’ ” । : D^; ntent is the want of self-reli-I i ance; it is infirmity of will. -Emerson. ’

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$ W /T X 4'wom^ <!r OVE ‘ THE follows r oul a woman’s letter shi>u|, 1 to the 1 every man- 11 ‘l'" l ' that eompaulmiship That companionship beiwi »»<) a woman that grows sw’ stronger and ' stiller as the tao |g s b >'. 1 say . stiller, because 38^“ l» vo P le lcarn ' I know each other lo rea< * each •other's hearts, thi' t,n uo * neC *’ U> speak every word u Alul this eoinpnnlonshi »» Ul ‘”2' P ° SSi ' bio between two v 1 ""“ thnn * "° ukl be between IWo n 11 ls foriue ’' I of a man and of . I £? Uu ‘ n ’ 1 :uu very ! conventional. lnv T l hopo yoU iu». । In n... world as a‘" M 4 , ii •* .1 any woman in n„. O‘-' l ma'l" o- 't OUI iieatts on other tended lot bvart “Sotnetypes loves it until It and cares fnr^^d joy and love for 1 Hkes it and Slight* him; KomeUmes hurts It, and it it and forgets it fl^ust the same, ! ”‘ a JV'" h ’O H come* a "' hr ;’ in t ? li .WWeMn- think hei vod «.trn to it. ■ .. £ ■ l.msi, t know," nl ^ a ‘t ’"tcuse-. I nd grows broader 'tahie and kinder; and "hen it .■mW to beat, ei vbod ' knnW!< ,hen what a dear. lovln^ bPayt *’ "ÜB. and ; most of nil If b - v ” a ‘ j who neglected It " \ovrtt;^”^ ckw *» r , The two COllalt^ F Wh te n<n and are worn t*’ n of . k arch rh < ‘“ ! ‘ : rsr . n "^l9 OF tndlF for near wnn W"' k n; ‘’’ ' ‘ng collar elom I a: Wcrarat is drawn | I ih VuSr® --erper ii - * 10 . ’ *1 Th 7 ”’ l I dadv occupy l\ 5hh ’“‘ and Important. t wlH sun ‘ J ' " u dme to her own a “ i "’‘ n the welldadng otir. . writes Katbartii* v h ? ~ , . may easily till Home Journal, u , . . , ... w annvyato 's. the her mind with , , ha totunous details, disagreeable ano , ... . tl Interruptions of the evnilnement, . . , ~, „ h . Tri r lutolllgent use the dally life, b , . . , . r . , ati 'Mematizlng her of her timet , . . > 0, 8 ’ her manner ot work, by simplif*; . . ... , . ,! .y seizing her op life, and bv resoljp* . . hud time fur la portunities she v< . . . . . ~ >r interest- out-ide vorite studies anu^ . <4hian gird up her of homo. Let it U , , , ~ , ~ , 4-she meds both intellect and courfi, . ... fbe accepts. Let , to the high otticl , . , . . , j;. but cheerful, her not be anxil , , . v make her work striving everv davT , . . , ' i perfect, and to more comp.ete, nr*- . z l> 1 -.HBi the refresh win from the .... ~ is* > in ” hue she meat which sh nil ... .W will not then mav be often w« r. . . ^■ited. realizing be restless nor , nd M ju her home that site has s na ■ .. UB Wworth striving some ot the thmg.< it ... , . . ,11 1 >~»vHl see in her for. And her tri«Ca® , ~«n HUI l.o>" » rlcbuess oml i u ...ibwiou-. 1 or in mav be quite un>LS .. . . , , UM'.vith ,!■. ;m: . the quiet of her b<£7> , , . WB workiim t, Ing and planning.q,r . . ' , \ ^Bs, ami lox m. bearing of many wL , Ail tor o unselfish mlnistratroLj there will spring upJ£ tj s „ ;!t! cere, generous sygj. „ ' of HI ; U(1 judgments, and culti|h her In-t and spirit which ^ilf reward." 3? < Offer. lio Not i'cfo ' »h£r, through j Xcxt should the^ 4^ ber chnd - • ■-n c friend,,.^ S*^Pcnl. refuse ' : Iu be Jr,. T . . ■ P" ■ r.m Help o^^hild. If she d<> m; sonicthiiig^iujnich, from the nature of things, '^gannot share, let her be careful iu,ibstii.uto some other loving sCt vh Idle declining the one proffered, ^5 nibering that love turned away. fishes selfish ness. and profTereS —• p refused be gets idleness. s She may have * V. "No. dear, yon cannot help rm®"s' e SS the baby,” but she <an add:S 4' u may hand mamma the elotlii J E 0 Ilie Answer! '£ ^Eettcrs. i iiiK' was when n a d d Women took letter writing very*fi ^‘Usly, ami sat down lo the desk a important k. The scrawls rQ 'njqern u irl; her hasty dashing^ 5 5 ‘hi epistle to catch a post; her < scribbled in hot haste and i r ‘ Pvanianship. 1 sealed with sp’^ f v «x. ami dis missed witjy, ’7 i'^vf, would, have fitg . c il-c £ ^>l of .lane I Ai’stin’-- E£3 3?^l horror. Apart fij ' /le, affected i by perso _ J^tliness of j their per'b i -£ 5 without ; the inbor g c .^^titeur who ; is «'f no p £ c "51'7 to all time, the episto^. £ - last century and <2^ 5 Si £ ? Gtl turie ß possess an inf Sc «o -c u t>ll vainly 1 seek in thf> 0- Ec q n 1 «wn day | when wo <3 4 l Or them in letters. c<-“ c Sevigne, 3 : - J S

Mary Mitford, the ladies of the Hare family. Mrs. Browning in a yesterday .just past, ami others, whose memoirs • orm part of our literary wealth, are ; good examples ol the perfect h Iter. ; Harper’s Bazar. A < harniiov, Htouse. There was worn at a smart "at home" the other day a charming blouse of so- ' pink silk muslin. There was no yoke al the hack, although this blouse was really a transparent shirt worn over a slip bodice of pale green glace. The back and two fronts were tilled in With six groups of tiny tucks, crossing cm h other diamond fashion, the sp.p- s between t. groups being tilled in wit 1 large diaimmds of delii-ate white laee. ! from beneath which Hie pink mous : sdine had bem cut awav. ru< sleeve I was of tiie coat type, tucked all the way ; down, the tucks separated lit straight ; rows of lace Insertion. The tucked col I lar wa- umlned and showed t lie gleam | of the green glace beneath it. At" Labor Leaders. M s- Martha M. Hohmann ami Miss ; Marie Geig r have distinguished theinselves as labor leade:- in ('levelaml. I Miss Hohmann was recently nomin ; nti<l lo the 1 <•- lion of vice pv, -ab ut A TWO LABOR I.KAPt.K* of the Central Lalwr I nion. Miss Hob ; matin is well educated, and an accotn>!i*ln d young woman. Miss Geiger j wn- Instrumental in organizing the ; Garment Workers’ Union. Lnined with Rouge. A writer iu the Louisville Daily ; New - gives the girls this sensible hint: D L etc is anyth ng Hint makes mo tired it is lo see a pretty girl.ruin her complexion with muge and powder and kalsomine and oilier truck. 1 j -aix one at a -ummer opera the other j night who made me rage. Site was । naturally a pretty ghl ami had a tine figure, but otio forgot nl) about those j things wl.ep h,. <rpue dose to her. The hm if .il tintitigs of th,. t’e<h were not i to l»o s«, n and the tender curve of | the 1 heck v, a * bedizened w ith rouge ■ and paint, a* were the pretty lips. I felt like mkmg that girl to a lagoon, dipping my Lamikerchid' in the water th.'Fe ;<m| giving her fm ea good old fn*!m d ••• : übolng No wonder so | many girls have skin trouble. They i rnl> emmgii st ;■ on their fm-es to kill ; any skin " for ' ervous Ileml.u h-. Sufferers from m rvous headadie sei ■bm. find any .0 tc.i. r-.r th-?-I trouble, but ;mrc are certum remedies ‘" h - ill! ' the p.,m Mo-t ol the tso ' u.ieU ne.tdttdi'- powi'ers" have a ' dung .u- . ihci eu w .ik hearts, and j thereio;-!- cannot be m ~mmem! d ex | cept in -pve;ai ca-e- x safe am! sni pie remedy for general us,. to he I found in hors., r i l : <h s-rap., a little : of the root. fi. ,d it ti the hand a few minute- pi warm it. am! then sntifl it energetically. The sensation for the mom ut i* unpleasant, but it Is worth ? while to endure a monetary twinge In order to secure immediate freedom from pain. Pompadour with a Parting . j J ; A' Tv* / Need of Outdoor Ex rcisc. Let your children have plenty of out doo ev rdse. especially in rhe evening. W.iit un’i! they are really sleepy before you semi them to bed. Let every diild have its own bedclothes. Cary the child’s diet with the season. Let them avoid all greasy-made dishes when it is too warm to take much outdoor exercise. n7 r-, ■ Z < J; u { ’ /nW a; I’m fasienings in the p'aekei in two ■ places lo'prevent gaping and showing i 1 lie underclothing. Stiffening is now pu l in only four or j five Inches deep, cutting it straight it I Ereiwli hair cloth is used: hut it I'm ■ 1. ■ canvas or crinoline it must lie cut I Skirls are still mad ■ lo lom-h in ,'1 ■ i front ami sides, with quite ti dip in the i hack, but have plaits al the waisi Ime. i rather than the perfectly plain effect. । None of the new gowns .ire gatlmred at । the back. ' The finish forth- butom may be I braid or velveteen, as one fancies; the ' first for looks and the -atier lor sc v.--e. Braids should always be shrunken, and velveteen applied easy, so as not 10 draw up when it gets damp. When two bias seams come together a straight tape sewed along will prevent sagging at the bottom.

FOUR MONTHS UNDER GROUND. I Long F ojourn of a Kitten in a Montana I Minins Hhaft. Little Annie McGinn of West Butte ' owns a kitten that has just emerged from one of the strangest adventures that ever befell any little girl's feline l>et. This cal in particular, after wan during through th<‘ mine workings under Butte since last fall, reappeared on the surface two miles from the place wheie she tumbled down a shaft. • Pussy spent fully four mont’us wan I dering through underground Butte, j t but lias survived in good shape. The cat, becoming frightened at something, jqmpcd down a shaft near the big Poulin hoist. She survived and opened up a howling contest by itself. Lillie Annie was heartbroken. Her brother secured a long rope ami lowered it into the shaft, hoping that the kitten would "catch on" and lie hoisted, but the eat only howled louder. Annie used to carry bits of meat ami bread over to the hole and throw them down for the cal to eat. After a coup! ‘ of weeks the moaning iu the shaft ceased. Annie gave up her pet as lost lorever. ami Ciiri-tmas at Annie’s home was not as cheerful for the owner of the lost kitten as it might have been had kittle not been so veut tiresome. Early in the w inter the miners in the Green Mountain, the Mountain Con and other shafts in the vicinity imagined tb.ey heard sounds similar to those made by a siek infant. Later the same noises were heard in the Amtcmida. Moumain View. Gray Rock. M* Ml "'■ MoonuOu I’liivf. UuvuM amt tile other workings .m the M< adervlllv slope. While -om” chlldi mg

mar the dump of the (’olusa mim^^W* were startled upon beholding a eat tumbling down the pile of rock with a ear load of waste that had just been dumped. The cat meowed piteously as it rolled over just in time to escape a big chunk that came bounding past. Llie children ran to the rescue and found a sorry looking species of the eat family. Its hair was matted and soiled, Its eyes red and it was sore and lame. The only mark of identification was the little ribbon about its neck, to which was attached a small brass liell. The feline underground explorer was returned to its owner at yme.-Aim-conda Standard. LAW AS INTcRPRETED The constitutionality of a statute providing for a special jury commissioner in coutities of a certain population foi - the selection of a special jury list for criminal eases is sustained in People vs. Imnn iN. Yd. 4!l L. It. A. 217. against objections on various gi ounds. I he scmlcr us a telephonemessage to a telegraph operator, with directions to -end it by telegraph is held, in Carland v- Western I nion Tidegraph Company iMieh.l, l.”> L. R. A. 2so. to be umitl’ected by a regulation, of which lie did not know, that all messages must l e given to the agent in writing. The absolute right of a corporation t > use tiie street railway tracks of an- 1 other corporation is held. In Ingersoll I vs. Nassau Electri ■ Railway Company] tN X > in 1,1; 23c, t<> be protected ' against a subsequent statute which ‘ would mnko the cxer<i<e of that right: depend > u tin - consent of abutting > <>w net - -. One who can look out from Hie front , of his house, with an unobstructed ' view, upon a park near l>y. is held, in | Douglas- vs. Montgomery (Ala.i. 43 1., R. A. 37G. io lie entitled to maintain a suit to present destruction of the I park in violation of the trust creat 'd ' by its dedication, although he may rot lie strictly- an abutting owner. Making Thimbles. The way thimbles are made in this ! country and England is simple enough, j Dies of the uifferejit sizes .are used, into which the metal, w hether gold, silver or steel is pressed. The hole punching, finishing and polishing or tempering are done afterward. The j best thimbles are made in France, 1 where the process is more thorough, i The Freni h consider durability in their I gold thimbles as the first requisite. The first step in the making of a Paris gold ' thimble is the cutting into a disk of] tiie desired size of a thin piece of sheet ; iron. Tliis is heated to a red heat. I । । placed over a graduated hole in an iron punch. This holo is the form of the thimble. The iron thus formed is removed from the hole, tiie little indentations to keep the needle from slipping are made in it mid all the other finish- ( Ing strokes of the thimble's form put > on it. The iron is then made into steel by a process peculiar to the French thimble maker, is tempered, polished and brought lo a deep blue color. A < thin sheet of gold is then pressed into , : the interior of the thimble and fast- | > cneii there by a mandrel. Gold leaf is 1 attached to the outside by n "-rat pres ! sure, lac eugi s of the leaf being lit- > ted in and held by small grooves at the | base of the thimble. The article is then , ready for use. The gold will last for , years. The steel never wears out ami the gold can be readily replaced at any lime. Nowhere else in the world are gold thimbles made in that way. NewYork Sim. German Street Railways. An instance of the minuteness of the German niunieipal regulations in re gard to street railways is shown by a recent ruling of the police department that it is dangerous for a conductor to pass along the steps of open horse ear- | which have transverse seats. The ’ railway company ha* therefore been j obliged to cut a passage through me j seals mid end partitions of some cars : that it. has been operating. As 1 lie ' width of the ears in Germany is re j strieied to two meters iG feel Gh inchest I j outside, th’’" Tuliny reduces the carry- | iug capacity 25 percent., so that a six bench ear will scat but eighteen pee | plc. Standing inside is prohibited j on all German roads, hut a lim led , number may stand on the platforms: ] this limit. h< twe ver, w hich is plainly posted, is strictly enforced. Boston । Herald. Wns a man r\ i<• I< •< 11 rom a Imu^p i for failure to pay rent on a pleasant ’ dav? H is always reported that the ; eviction takes place in a driving ■ storm. If you are looking for a fat job you | might apply at some soap factory.

' ■ J's How to I’nt on Wall P-per. In papering a room a thin solution of white glue should first lie applied to the wall with a whitewash brush. To make good paste sift the flour and lo every pound of flour add one ounce of puiterized alum. Mix smoothly with cold water, and pour over it boiling water, stirring rapidly until it swells and i urns yellow , remove from the lire mid let stand until cold..A little carbolic m id may lie added if vermin are about the walls. Trim the paper close to Hm- patt.-rn on the left side, ivrulliug the paper to do so. A board wider than ilie breadth and a little longer, or two narrow boards placed over the kitchen taliie does finely to lay the paper on when applying tiie paste. Cut one breadth the length required, match the next breadtli before banging the first; to insure against mistakes have only two breadthscut at the same time. Apply the paste witli brush or soft cotton Hoti. Carefully adjust the top. having the bottom come in a line with the base board, press down with dry cloths. Never put fresh paper on walls over old paper; it is even more unhealthy than it is uncleanly. Set a kettle of boiling water in the middle of the I room, fasten a whitvxx nsh Uvwsli to tYie ond of th« broom handle, dip In the hot water and brush over the walls and 2 ceiling. Kcpem. until tiie pupm will

' ’- r tiie paste as possible before nutting on new paper. It is a good plan to dampen the walls the last thing at night before going to bed and let them soak through the night. Finger-Tin Tooth Brush. A means of utilizing the finger as a tooth brush forms the subject of a patent recently granted to Charles W. Richards, of San Francisco, Cal. A 7 - ' - \\ ' X FINGER-TIP TOOTH URI SIL tip made to lit tiie forefinger is supplied witli animal bristles or those of rubber, mid by means of this the crevices between the teeth can be more thoroughly cleansed than with the usual brush. Another advantage is that the gums are spared the pain and shock often occasioned by an accidental blow from the end of a bone-kan- • died tooth brush. । " hen Company Comes in the Country. | “Begin to enjoy yourself when your I guests arrive—in fact, before they arrive. Do not try io serve such au elaborate dinner that the work of get- । ting it ready will draw so upon your physical powers that they will be strained to their utmost endurnace. XX hen your visitors arrive, greet them ' with a hearty handshake; make them i feel that you are ready for their comj ing; speak of the pleasure that you hope the day may bring; compliment them on their good appearance: notice the neckwear, the dainty' handkerchief; be thoroughly interested in each and every one. When the time comes for you to prepare the dinner and place it upon rhe table, leave your guests as gracefully as possible. If the dinner be not too elaborate and the mental atmosphere be clear and bright, your friends will come again. 'Eat to live,’ and not ’Live to cm,’ should be the motto of every household." —Ladies’ Home Journal. Preparing Pickles. Within the next few' weeks every housewife will be busily engaged preparing her pickles, jellies and preserves for the winter. During the season of pickling, when many onions are used, it will be much more comfortable work if this vegetable is peeled and sliced under water. Hold in the lap a large bowl tilled with clear water and work with the hands under the water. Onions done in this manner will not cause tears or stained fingers. Left over Butter. As to the custom of using for the cooking all the pieces of butler left over at each meal aud collecting these broken bits, only to allow part of them to linger indefinitely. e ls no condemnation too strong. A tof butter not iu condition to reappear on the table l should be used at once. If it grows । strong before it is needed a safe place ; for it is the soap-fat kettle. Kitchen Hints. To clean a spice null, grind a handtul of raw rice. A whisk broom is just the thing to clean a horseradish grater. Stone jars are better than tin boxes for keeping bread during hot weather. Wood ashes put in a woolen bag and placed in the water will make hard water soft. Pickles or vinegar will not keep iu a ! jar that has ever had any kind of I grease kept in it. Pul a little household ammonia on a : rag aud clean oft' the rolls of a wringer ; before putting it away. If the ceiling becomes smoked from a lamp, wash off the blackened suH.kl 1 with a little weak soda uatci. -u.ni’d be cleaned reguUraia lupe- -nomu u<_ , M-cck with lime | !:Hly 31 ‘ .'jc ; d or chloride of lime, water, carbouc acai or ] (•].„,! shells are more conwmem . o -.-rapiim pots and kettles than a kmte , r. quiring It ss lime to remove the u i surfaces. . , ■ bo quicn-iy : Lamp emmm ? > "• ..h-in I Cleaned by rubbino them w. . a h • ! soil cloth ami polish.ng i of newsiKiper . 3 I if .n-erne is spilled on the k.tihea I 11 , , ... m water poured ou it floor or tab.c, cola t t - ,. n msoxaa t once will prevent the spot Hom Ing into the wood-