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1. Rulnn of Kingston's most cherlshpd relie, the parish church, whpr Admiral Henbow Is buried. 2. Twixted but not
overthrown; the curious frlipht of Queen Victoria's Mntuc. 3. The ruina of the Woodbine, the house of Mr. HoLeon,
whose wife was killed. 4. Myrtle Bank Hotel after the earthquake, compared by I.ord Iudley lo a shattered doll's-house.
T. A lighter conveying the dying, fi. The wteck of the central tower at Constant Spring Hotel. 7. Ituins of Mr. (Jrinan'a
bouse, where one person was killed. 8. Ituins of the Military hospital, where forty British soldiers perished.
The Parish Church of Kingston, which dated from the
lnte aevontcpntti century, was the colonists' most cher
ished antiquity. The main part of the building was orig
inal,1 but the side aisles were of; later date. It wns first
rcK)rted that the statue of Queen Victoria bad been
turned completely round, but the photograph shows that
this was not up. It was twisted to an angle of about 43
degrees from its original position and was shaken to the
An Inch Irtvll
"1 don't seeui to have an Idea left
In my head I"
Molly O'Moore's bend was a pretty
one. however empty she mtght think
Jt Her speech was apparently made to
about half a dozen cows grazing sleep
ily In a field under a brilliantly blue
sky.
She was surprised, therefore, when
a voice suddenly answered her a
young voice wlttal. , . ,
"Can I be of any assistance?" Jt
said, and a laugh was followed by the
appenrance of a tall, well-built man of
thirty or thereabouts. ' . .
Miss O'Moore surveyed hlui xsome
what disparagingly not on account of
!hls aspect, which was beyond reproach
but because she Judged his offer of
assistance somewhat superfluous. '
"I am afraid not," she.' said at
length. He had stood her scrutiny
without flinching; "you see it's for a
competition!"
He bowed, but his smllo still '' lin
gered. He did not think It necessary
or prudent to Inform her that he did
not seel
So he waited for further explana
tions, admiring meanwhile the dainty
pose of the girl's dark head, the flash
of her bright blue eyes. The slim, girl
ish llgure wore a much washed muslin
vith much Inimitable grace.,'
"It is so Mupiu, sue aaia, appar
ently sufficiently satisfied with her ex
amination to make a confidant of him.
"There Is a competition In this paper
waving the Dublin Duchess with de
fiant hands "but It is for 'engaged
girls '. Fifty pounds Is a lot of money,
Isn't it?"
He saw she was serious, and altered
his mood accordingly.
"It Is," be answered, feeling somehow
glad that she could not possibly know
that his Income per week amounted to
more than double that sum ! "One
could do a lot with, fifty pounds, of
course!"
"I was thinking It would buy dad a
book or two he has wanted for years,
and a coat his Is so old--and we
might be able to afford meat more
thau twice a week for some time to
come. Meat Is necessary for a man,
I think, don't you a man who Is al
ways working bis brain? But there"
.her face fallliiR and the flush of ex
citement dying down "what Is the
use of thinking about It at all. at all,
when I'm not eligible, nor ever likely
to 1)0."
A deep sigh escaped her, and her
lips quivered. It certainly irts hardi
The young man caught aiso the sus
picion of a break In her voice.
"Don't despair," he said; "I tMnk
I can help you that Is to say, If yoa
like If you wouldn't uilnd, I mean."
He paused ; the subject was a delleate
one, and be was afraid of handling !t
too roughly.
"You have an Idea?" the girl asked
quietly. "What Is It?"
"You promise not to bo annoyed?"
"Annoyed?" Molly's voice was mis
chievous. "Why should I be?"
"Very well, then; It Is this: Will
you be engaged to me for as long or as
short a time as you like, so that you
may be eligible as a competitor In this
'Dublin Duchess' competition?'
At first the girl looked Incredulous,
then a ripple of laughter broke from
her.
"What a funny Idea !" (be said. "I
don't even know your name!"
"That Is easily remedied," he re
turned, producing a card, and handing
It to her.
Molly read It dubiously.
"Sir Robert Dugdale."
"You aren't already married, I aup
. pose?" she asked.
lie laughed, and the did not notice
bis embarrassment
t"No," he said; "I am not married,
and if you like to say the word, and
tell me your name, too, wo will be en
gaged for the next month, If It pleasea
you, and you can go In for your com
petition and win the fifty pounds!"
"It only I could," she aald. Then sht
looked at blm a little comically.
"My name U quite a cqynmoa
OUGHT BY THE KINGSTON EARTHQUAKE.
J-r
edge of the pedestal, but not thrown down. The Myrtle
Bank Hotel presented, as Ixrd Dudley remarked, the ap
pearance of a grotesque, shattered doll's-house. One wall
was shaken down, leaving the rooms open to view. At
the hotel Sir Alfred Jones and his party had lunched
Just before the catastrophe. After the sliock. Are broke
out at the military hospital, and forty sick soldiers of the
West India Uoplnient lost their lives.
Mary O'Moore," she said, "and I am
usually called Molly."
Bob Dugdale thought It the sweetest
name he had beard. After all, there
s "something In a name!"
"Common," he echoed; "oh, no, I
don't think ro. We had better begin
our roles at once, hadn't we? You
must have cxix-rlenee, of course, and
I will teach you!"
He proved so apt an exponent that
Molly O'Moore went to bed that night
and dreamt that her prince was come,
and nothing else In the whole wide
world mattered.
And all through the exquisite sum
mer weeks that followed Dugdale lin
gered In the little Irish fishing village,
whither he had gone for salmon fish
ing, playing his part to perfection, aud
losing his heart ere be was aware of It
to the lovely young daughter of the
bookworm old clergyman, who was so
absorbed In his "ologles" that he left
the girl to take care of herself.
But the day came at last when the
Idyll was brought to an abrupt ter
mination. Dugdale received letters
from his solicitors which necessitated
his Immediate presence In England,
and he communicated the fact of his
Impending early departure to Molly as
they sat together on the ruins of the
old castle, at whose feet the sea of the
Atlantic swept In broad rollers In the
summer sunshine. -
Just for a second the girl's cheek
blanched, but she pulled herself to
gether again with all the Inborn pride
of her race. Sorry that he was going
away, was she? Had she expected him
to stay forever? Don't the swallows
flee before the winter weather? Are
the roses always In bloom?
But In that moment she realized
what his coming and his going meant
to her. She knew that what had begun
In play bad ripened Into earnest. She
loved. Not for an hour, or u day, or
a week or even a year but for her
lifetime, and beyond that Into an eud-
less eternity.
She loved.
The ' man at her fi'de was selfish
enough to want to hear It from her
lips, though he knew that It was futile.
"Molly," he cried, possessing himself
of her hand. "Is it possible yon are
sorry that you will miss me when I
am gone?"
Molly breathed hard.
"I shall .miss you, of course," she
said, slowly, "but I knew all along
that we should have to say good-by
some day; that It was all Just make
believe." "Was it? Is It all make-believe on
your part?" he broke in. "Oh, Molly
Molly!"
He stretched out his hands, big and
brown, and they closed over ber sJjjn
fingers.
Then ho bent a little nearer, Intoxi
cated at the sight of the soft sweet
color sweeping ber pure cheeks. He
was close to her, very 'close, bis heart
almost beating against hers, when sud
denly, sharply, lie drew back. '
"Forgive me, Molly," ho cried pas
sionately; "forgive me!' I am a cad
worse than a cad, and I am not free
forgive !"
Without a backward look he rose
and strode away, and Molly sat long
till the sun set Into the sea, Its rosy
colors mingling with the blue waters.
She loved ah! how she loved him.
Woe to her broken heart I
"First prize, Miss Molly O'Moore.
Daddy!" The slim llgure, grown a
little slimmer during the past three
months, knelt by the old vicar's chair.
"Daddy, I've wou fifty pounds!
Aren't you glad, mavourneen?"
Only the sound of her own voice
broke the deathly stillness of the poor
ly furnished room.
Molly drew back from the figure
bowed over the writing table wifj a
cry of fear. Her cheek grew jale.
What was the matter?
"Daddy oh. daddy! I havet Just
beard," she cried. "Rejoice with me.
darling; I'm longing to buy you all
the things that you love the books
and the coat, and, ob, you know you
ought to rejoice, for you have wept
with me, too!"
Suddenly she bent down and touched
uts shoulder. Then with au exceeding
bitter cry, which resched the faithful
HlililJ In tli L-lti'lien. a)it kji ii V nn ,t
ber knees.
ratrickyO'Moore had gone where the
r
Mb
writing of many books and much study
have an end.
Molly O'Moore picked up the threads
of her life, and went to London as
governess to a family of Ignorant
noisy children, who nearly killed her
between them.
But It seined there was one person
they stood In awe of an uncle, whoso
name sbo never heard without a start,
"Uncle Bob!" It brought back many
unpleasant memories of a summer long
since dead, though by no means for
gotten. That other Bob Sir Robert Dug
dale. She had never seen him. though
she had read of his approaching mnr
riage some weeks after his departure
from Ireland to a lady of title a
cousin. This same paper Informed her
that It was a family arrangement,
which would be the means of uniting
two estates as well as two hearts!
And she had understood why her love
dream had ended so disastrously, and
why her lover had branded himself as
worse than a cad!
And she set herself to forget him,
as much as It was possible, for she
had forgiven him long ngo. Love
knows no limit to Its forgiveness; It
Is not of the earth It is from heaven
above!
But forgetfulnoss Is another, matter
altogether-7-one's memory Is apt to b
so long So dreadfully bard to kill!
"Uncle Bib U coming to-day," one
of her charges announced one after
noon In late December, as they sat at
tea in the scltoolroom at tho top of
the house. "He's been over In Ireland,
and he comes back to-night!"
Molly poured out the tea with a
steady hand.
"I am glad for your sakes he Is com
ing," she said ; "you are all so fond of
him."
"Oh, ho comes here lots and lots,
really," they told her ; "but Just lately
he's been awfully down on his luck,
mother says, aud bo he's kept away.
He is very fond of coming up to thlt
room, which ho says la the nicest In
the house."
But Molly, thinking of other things,
did not attend, and the children
dropped the subjects
She was sitting alone In the school
room after 9 o'clock tea, when a man's
tread sounded on the stairs outside,
and the door was flung open.
"Molly!" cried a well-kuowu voice;
"at last, my darling!" '
"Don't!" she Implored. "Pleaso- ;
plense, go away!"
"Go away?" he echoed, striding
across the room, and standing In front
of her, tall and commanding, and twice
as handsome as even her memory had
pictured him. "What nonsense! At
least. I will go away If you like, but
I mean to take you with me, if you
will go. Molly Molly !"
Molly pushed hlui from her with nil '
her might
"Do you forget?" she said Imperi
ously,
tine?"
"Do you forget Lady Clemen-
"Lady Clementine, blessing on her
heart, ran away with her groom a
month before we were to hove beon
married, and I have searched for you
ever since, llttlo dreaming I should
find you here. Molly, before you ask
me another question, answer me. Tell
me, will you marry me? Will you love
me, and be engaged to mo in earnest
this time, darling? You owe mo that
fifty pounds, but I'll take your heart
Instead. May I, darling?"
Molly looked up, ber smiles fighting
with ber tears.
"You took that long ago," she said
shyly.
And then and there he gathered her
Into his arms, and the schoolroom be
came an Eiyslum.
People when they beurd tho news
said that It was the end of a charm
ing Irish Idyll, but the two people who
were most concerned In the affair de
clare that It Is only Just the begin
ning! Philadelphia Telegraph.
Th Harhelor Maid.
One day I anked a Bachelor Maid;
"What is the reaon you won't wed?'
"I wIh'u to live a freer life.
And fight for woman's rights," she said.
But toon I learned that the had wed,
"Your light for rights U o'er," I sighed.
"To change one's mind's s woman's right
And so I've gained my point," she cried,
Princeton Tiger.
'WAY DOWN
Cum ulntijt. nlpsntid, nn" n-kccp y' fort niovln',
Hrlnjt Vnv down fi -t-lutfrlii on le ol' -ntln flo',
.TT llsHcti tuh 1e Imnjo a-luizr.l?' nil' a-r!nsln',
Wp'w a-linbllii' iliti time tuli-ntte wc noMmh liod Mo'.
An' a-tln-tariR, twln tnng (whrah's dc rIs (i lildln,)1
An' a-f.lp lp-lniKh-Filiu.eh (hcnh de foot n-slidln').
Ioy ftin"t no odduh nlcnab kin befit ol' Hill a pliiyln'
PlKhonh'a do nmslo 'at niok do 'tntelis prow.
(Dnt nlrjah yandeh holloh Ink a ol' Jat knM a brnyln',
An' do I'll plckanlnnloa ntnn' a-itrlnnln ru de do)
Bow t' yo' podneha tlii(-a taiiK-tlnis-tliiR
KwlnR yo' cawnclia thiR a tnnR wlilng-taiiR, j
Iloahl Yo' nlpRnlis bnlniu-e all I
(Golly J Hat yalleti pnl Rot till full!)
An' ft-Eook-cook-sliugli-ahugh, lively p a Juno bug TAVAXOl!
"lle-o-nh! Yuh fool n!piilin, t'lnk l'ae gwlne pick do banjo all
nlteT Let dlslteali ol' nlpgah pit out tlmh nn' ahow yo' howteu ntiuffrl
yo' fMtl Dlslieali'a nio'n din nlppnh kin atnn'!" II. L. Marrlnor.
cflij promotion
The girl had an Impetuous way of
pmpbasizlng her remarks. When she
aid a thing that she meant should
' carry weight she threw a peculiar stress
v on her words, at the same time tapping
the floor sharply with her foot and
'nodding vigorously.
"You are much too young for a guar
dian," she said to the young man, and
voice and foot and head added empha
sis to the statement
I The young man smiled.
"My youthfulness Is nn offejise that I
cannot Immediately correct," be said.
"Give me time. I'll try to live it down."
I The girl frowned. '
"You seem to delight In treating the
subject flippantly," she said.
"What would you have me do? Be
moan my lack of gray balrs and wrin
kles? Sit down and fold my hands and
, wait for rheumatic twinges to seize
me?"
The girl tapped the floor sharply with
her eloquent foot
"Don't you think I'm old enough to
Choose my own guardian?" she cried.
He smiled. He seemed to have an
Inexhaustible fund of good nature.
"I would prefer not to answer that
question," be said. "In the eye of the
law you are still an Infant."
"An Infant!" she echoed. "Well. I
fancy I'm a pretty lively Infant. I'm
the sort of Infant that knows enough to
claim Its rights. That's Just the kind
of Infant I am."
' "I fully agree with you," said the
young man. "But Infants often clamor
for what they do not need usually for
"UXifa A LITTLE OBJECT LESSON."
things that are not good for them. This
must explain why their clamoring goes
unheeded."
I "Well, It's money I'm clamoring for
Just now."
I "Yes. At the same time I think you
are well aware that. I consider your al
lowance quite large enough. It Is the
amount fixed upon by your father nml
I do not feel Justified In raising it"
The girl pouted.
"Well, I can't make It go around."
"But do you try?"
"Of course I do."
"You mean you think you do." Ills
gulck eyes rested on the girl's hat lying
on the table. "Here's a little object leg.
son," he said as be picked up the hat,
"You bought this bat at Mine. Filbert's
last Tuesday. You paid ?4(1 for It"
The girl stared at blm.
"How do you know?" she cried.
"A guardian must know many things.
Very indiscreetly you told who you
were as soon as you entered the shop,
You are known to be an heiress. This
Immediately advanced the price of any
bat you might select."
"I don't believe It?"
"It Is quite true. You finally picked
out this hat. Madame condescended to
let you have It for f40. The real price
was $23."
, "Impossible! How can you know
this?"
"One of the saleswomen In the place
Is tbe sister of one of the young men
In my office. She told him how the
girls laughed over madauie's cleverness
after you left tbe shop. The young
man thought I would be Interested In
tho story."
"It's a shame!" cried tho girl. "I'll
never go there again!"
"Certainly not," said the young man
ne eyed tbe hat critically. "Besides. It
Isn't the style of bat that lieeomes yon.
There's too much droop to the brim
here. It hides your face too much and
gives you a rakish air."
She stared at him again.
"Are guardlanH expected to know all
that, too?" she asked.
"This guardian Is simply trying to do
bis duty," the young man replied. "But
then be takes little credit for bis knowl
edge of millinery. When bis mother
was a girl she was a milliner and for
leveral years after she married she bad
l shop of her own. It was money she
taved that put me through college and
rsve me a legal education and a start
to the world."
He paused with the hat In bis hand
and looked at tbe girl smilingly.
"And It was your mother's money
that started my father on tbe road to a
fortune," said the girl softly.
"Did be tell you that?"
"Yes. He said that when be needed
snowy the most when all bis plans
seemed to depend on bis getting It, It
was your mother who let blm have it
11,000, with only bis note for security,
lie usvsr forgot It"
SOUTH.
"I know ho didn't. Your father nev
er forgot a friend or a favor. Other
wise 1 wouldn't le here. He knew mo
and be trusted me and, please heaven,
I'll prove worthy of the trust"
There was a little silence.
"I'll have that hat retrlmmed," said
the girl.
"Good,? cried the guardian.
"And you'll let me have $")0."
He laughed and shooked bis head.
"See here, Ethel," be said, "I begin
to think you are not to be trusted with
money. Why did you loan Madge Gil
bert $20 the other day?"
"Why, she asked me. for It."
"And do you give money to everyone
that asks you?"
"How did you know about that?"
"She told ber father. He didn't ute
It at all. Madge has an allowance that
Is quite large enough. Her father
brought the $20 to me this morning."
"Madge Is a silly. She said she must
have the money. Then you have $20 of
mine. I want It." .
He handed her a bill.
"Make that answer until the first,"
he said.
tihe clutched the bill with a little
pout '
I don't suppose It would be polite
for mo to say that you are tbe stingiest
guardian I have ever had," she said.
He smiled at ber accusation.
I can't help It," he answered. "I
would rather have your good opinion,
of course, but I'm trying to do what
your father expected mo to do. When
ho asked me to serve as your guardian
demurred Btrongly, but bo Insisted.
'You are young,' be said, 'but I can
trust you. My girl has neither father
nor mother. She Is a little spoiled, a
little headstrong, but she has a good
heart You must be firm with her and
she will respect you all tbe more for
It. Whatever you do I am sure will be
for ber good.'"
Ills voice dropped a little. He seemed
to see tbe dying father, to bear the
feeble vojee.
The girl turned her head sway.
"Why do you tell me this?" she
asked.
It's my only excuse for displeasing
you," be answered.
She came to blm and put out ber
hand.
"You must forgive me, George," she
said In her quick way, "I wouldn't
wound your feelings for the world. I'm
a naughy girl and I know I've worried
you dreadfully. It's a shame."
Ills face flushed a little.
"Never mind,". be said. "No doubt
it's the sort of thing guardlnus are sup
posed to eucouuter."
"And you forgive me?"
"Why, of course."
Her face beamed.
"George," she cried, "If you were
only twenty years older I would kiss
you."
He drew his breath sharply.
"Come, come," he said, "remember
that you are no longer a child. How
old are you your next birthday?"
"Don't remind mo of It Besides,, you
know well enough. I'n twenty."
"Don't forget It And when Is your
birthday?"
"You know that, too. It'-; next Wed
nesday." He nodded.
"I may have a little surprise for
you," be said. "If you are real good."
"I make no promises," she answered.
"Perhaps I'll have a surprise for you,
too."
He looked at her sharply.
"You haven't been falling In love,'
have you?" he asked.
She tossed ber head airily.
"And what If I haver
"Well, it's a guardian's business to
know something about tbe man. At
least, the gutfrdlan should be con
sulted," She tossed her bead again.
"Not on that subject."
"Very well," be said, "I'll have to
find out In my own way", .
"I wish you Joy of your Investiga
tion."
"Thank you." He arose to go, "I
think that will do for this morning.
Give my regaids to Madame Lubin.
Good-by."
"Walt, George."
"Well?"
"Have you ever thought that I might
might want to to marry?"
He tartel a little. .
"Theu there Is somelKxly?"
"I I am not quite sure." .
hs It Douglass Gaines?"
"Why do you mention him?"
"He has seemed to like your society.
Other people have noticed It. Walt.
Ills father Is my Isw partner, you
know and Jie has spoken to mo about
this attachment, as he calls It. He told
me yesterday that It would please blm
greutly If you favored his son and be
asked nie to us any Influence I could
bring to bear, . 1 do not regard It as any
breach of confidence to tell you this."
The girl looked up at him Inquiringly
"And do yotl approve, George?"
He hesitated !Htlo. '
"Douglas comes of au excellent fam
ily. I greatly esteem bis father. ' As
far as I know the boy has a good repn.
tatlon. He Is a Uttle too boyish for bis
years, perhaps, but that Isu't a serious
rault"
"And you would Interpose no objec
tion?" "Not If you love him."
She was silent a moment Then sbo
anil led,
"You mustn't forgot that Wednesday
Is my birthday, and you are to take
supiter with me here. There Is to bo an
exchange of surprises, you know."
"I remember," h? jnld. "1 will come.
Good-by."
, As he went down the froat steps the
girl called to blm.
"George," she cried, "will you see
Douglass at the olllco when yon get
there?"
"He Is usually there at this time."
' "Tell him I'd like to see him, please."
"I will tell him."
As he walked away the young man's
face clouded.
"Poor George," she murmured. "But
he's too silly to deserve any pity. As
If I couldn't sco that he loves me so
much that he's actually afraid of me.
And all that pretense about lecturing
me for my extravagance I Why, he's as
transparent as glass. Poor George!"
That afternoon Ethel Lamberton had
a caller, a chubby faced youth with
clothe of extreme cut and a hat with
a pnrtl-colored band. It was young
Douglass Gaines, and young Douglass
Gaines looked a little worried.
"Hullo, Ethel," be said. '
" "How do you do, Douglass? I'm glad
to see you."
"I'm fine. How are you?"
"Ver ywcll. Mr. Edgar1 gave you my
message?"
"Yes." Ho looked nt her anxiously.
"It was kind to come so promptly."
"Yes I I was afraid It might be
something serious." '
"It may prove serious," said the girl.
He looked at her helplessly,
"You haven't seen dad, have you?'r
"No."
"Maybe you know what ho wants?"
"Maybe I do."
"Then you know be wants me to mar
ry you."
"Are you pleased?" he stammered.
"That Isn't fair," said the girl. "I
must not sliow my feelings until well,
until you make yourself more definite.
Are you pleased?"
"No," ho blurted out Then he mus
tered all his courage. "I like you first
rate, Ethel. You're a Jolly girl all right
B-bnt I don't like you in the way
well. In tho way father wants 'me to like
you."
The girl frowned.
"That Isn't flattering, Douglass. Your
father "
He Interrupted her.
"You know why father wants you In
the family? It's your money he wants.
How much ore you worth, Ethel?"
"That sounds dreadfully unromantlc
and calculating." !
"I don't want any of It," he hastily
cried, "I'm Just asking out of curi
osity. How much a million?"
"Perhaps."
The young man drew a long breath.
"I wish somo one I know bad a little
money. Enough at least to Impress
father." k
"Then I have a hated rival?"
"N Not a rival, Ethel. She Is very
fond of you. She thinks you're a won
derful girl."
"Peace, flatterer. Then I know her?"
"Yes."
"Is It Helen Dumont?"
"No!"
"How emphatic you ore. ' Is It Mabel
Crltchlcy?"
"No."
"You'll Jar the globes from the chan
delier. Is it Emily Bobbins?"
'Yes. How did you guess?"
'Never mind. And you profer Emily
Robblns to me?"
'Yes. You don't care very much, do
you?"
"Don't I look as If I cared?"
He studied her face.
"I think you are pretending to csre.
Don't you like Emily?"
"Yes. Sho Is a charming girl."
"She's a peach all right I wish
father thought so, too. But Emily's
folks are not rich. That's what lnflu
euces dad." '
"Aud you want to marry Emily?"
"Of course."
"Does Emily know?"
"She 'knows. It's all right except
for dad."
"Suppose I bring a little Influence to
bear on your father?"
"Can you will you?"
"Would It do any good to have
George Edgar talk to blm?"
"Of course It would. He's the very
man. Whatever George Edgar says al
ways goes with dad. There Isn't a finer
fellow on earth than George. You
ought to hear what they still sa about
t im In college. He was the great half
back of bis year, you know. But he
wouldn't speak to dad, would be?"
Tbe girl smiled.
"I am quite sure he will If X ask
blm."
Tbe young man arose. Ills ruddy
face wore a broad smile.
"Ethel," be said, "you're an eighteen
karat brick all right!"
It was a dainty little birthday dinner
to which the girl Invited her guardian,
and tt vuardlan looked at the arrange
ment of tbe table with surprise as well
as appreciation.
"Am I the only guest?" he asked,
'The one and only,' she answered.
"We couldn't expose our little surprUe
to outsiders, you know."
She bad never looked more charm.
Ing. The womanly side to her charac
ter seemed to hlui suddenly developed.
She was no longer a child.
lie had never enjoyed a dinner as be
enjoyed that one. Yet he knew It must
be the last.
And when It was ended and they had
goue back to the little reception room,
be felt that the time bad come for him
to tell her of bis resolve, and so take
blmself out of her life forever.
"That was a mistake about Doug
lass." she said.
"A mistake?"
"Yes. Perhaps you thought be would
be here to-night?"
"Yea What was tbe mistake?"
"I sent for him, you know, and when
he -came he very calmly told me be
didn't care for me,"
"PonglasB told you he didn't row for'
yo-i?"
"Yes. lie likes someone elso much,
better. It's Emily Bobbins. You know
who she la. And you are to speak to
Douglas' father about her and use
your best Influence to help them."
He drew himself up a little stiffly.
"I'd rather not" he sold.
"I promised you would," murmured'
the girl. . .
He drew a quick breath.
"Douglass will be very grateful," said
tbe girl, "and so will Emily and so
will I." :'
He fumbled la an Inner pocket and,
brought forth an envelope, from which'
he drew a letter. '
"Here Is my surprise, Ethel," be said."
"It's my resignation as your guard I in
Your father made thU optional with
me. If on your twentieth birthday, I
deemed It wise to give you full posses
sion of your property I could do so.
This was the finest birthday remem
brance. I could bring you your free
dom."
Tho girl slowly smiled.
"I don't notice that this sudden ac
cession of liberty lnakes any difference
In my feelings," she said. "But you
meant It well, of course, and I thank
you." Iier clear gray eyes regarding
him steadily. "George Edgar," sho
slowly added, "I begin to realize ho
much I owe to you, how faithful and
lovingly you have served me. .But you
deserve something better than nlere
thanks." She hesitated a little, then"-
bravely continued. "It seems to iu
that you deserve a promotion." '
A promotion, Ethel? What docs
that mean?"
She flushed a little.
"You know what promotion means.
dear friend. It there Is In my service
any higher office than that of guardian
I think you deserve It"
Then he seemed to dimly comprehend
her meaning. He leaned forward. Ills
voice trembled when he spoke. ""' ,
'EthcI," he slowly said, "what was
that surprise you promised to give mo
to-day?"
She suddenly put out her bands to
blm.
"Myself," she softly . answered.-
Pennsylvania Grit
SHIP WITHOUT A COUNTRY. , ,
Lot of .rknlne Alt Which One
Sailed Under Chtleait Color. ,
Sailing from port to port, with no
country she can legally claim as home
In fact, a ship without a country
Is tho barkentlne Altn, which, left' Ta-
coma yesterday, laden with a cargo of.
lumber for Callao.
Although owned by American citl-
sens and paid for with American mon
ey, the Alta is not au American ves
sel and Is not entitled to claim Uncle
Sam's protection or to fly the stars
and stripes. The United States will
not give her American register and
tho shipping commissioner would not
sign her crew before she departed from
this port. She could not even clear
her cargo here.
Upon arrival on tbe Sound the Alta
entered at tho customs house at Port
Townsend under prbtest, It Is said,
and from that pott Bhe will have to
clear. Captain Thouagel states that
the vessel encounters the same diffi
culties wherever she goes. The experi
ence Is no new one.
The Alta's lost flag was the Chilean.
Sho is owned by Americans at Manila
and when they bought ber she 'was
put under a Philippine register for '
the coasting trade there. The end of
her trouble, which bus excited more or
less comment on sundry occasions, will
bo when the Philippine Islands are de
clared a territory- Tbe Alta will then
get American register, with Manila as
her home, port, Just as a number of
vessels obtained American register
when nawall was made a territory.
The Alta is a four-masted steel bark
entlne of 1,332 net tonnage. She was
built In 1000 by R. Duncan & Co. at
rort Glasgow and Is owned by A. P.
Lorcntzen. In Lloyd's register she is
given as Chilean, under which flag she
originally sailed. Naturally tbe Alta
experiences difficulty In obtaining a
crew, as no government officials of any
country will sign them. Taeouia
Ledger. . f.
j
Santa Claaa Bteeda 8ava Alaakana.
"When the white man with bis civil
ization arrived la Alaska tbe troubles
of the natives began," writes Edw. B.
Clark, In the Technical World Maga
zine. "The Innults, otherwise known
as Eskimos, the Aleuts, the Tbllngets
and the rest, came In contact with the
blessings of tbe Gospel and with tbe
curses of rum and disease. It is per
haps logical from the church point of
view to regard It as better that a man
should suffer In his physical lifetime
than to be damned spiritually through
eternity, but luckily for the Alaskans
there were some men, Christians of
the right mind, who thought It would
be only Gospel like to save the Eskimo
from suffering both Before death and
after death and these men seem to
have found the means of accomplishing
the end. "
"The reindeer seemingly has solved
tbe problem of the temporal If not the
eternal salvation of the Alaskan. He
gets bis food, bis raiment and his Gos
pel on the reindeer range. He has been
taught by sharp circumstance to look
upon the missionary as one who with
due regard for the soul of his charge,
also looks well after his body," .
Oar National Air.
"What Is the national air of this
country?" asked a foreigner of Mr.
Fangle.
"At present the national air Is
mighty cold," replied Fnngle, as , h
buttoned bis overcoat closed.
A llepeater.
yeast Does your wife repeat every
thing she bears? 1
Crlmaonbeak I don t know about
that; but I believe she repeats every-j
thing she says! Yonkers Statesman.'
The balr that reaches from one side,
uf tbe bead, over the bald spot on top.
Is another ruse of the man that never
fools anyone. - ,
A woman bates to move to a big town
from small one, and then nove tacky
I to the small ne.