A HINT, ?: <• Out Daisy lay down Ty;: la hor white nightgown, And kissed me attain ami again On for.bead nml cheek, On li| a that could speak, t Dal found themselves, shut to their gain. 1 / Tlion foolish, absurd, To uttor a word, i & I asked her the question so old, That wife and thut lover, ... Asked over and over. As if they were surer when told. There eloso at her side, , ••Do you love mo!” I cried: : She liftesi tier golden-crowned hoad, 'lx A puszled surprise f - frihono In her gray eyes— * “Why, that’s why I kiss you.” sho said -Glo’oo Democrat. The Actor's btory. DV jo:i\ < OLHTIAN. A T S" ; if f «5-< si . . CHAPTEK VI -dovTiNUEn. Flora foun elan, who recognized Curly instantly. ff despite his haltered condition. "oubllcss M’Diarmid and Davie had their suspicions us to how the outrage occurred, but they kept their own counsel for the present l’."'' Di on wasted no llmo in words. Ho decided that his patient must bo taken ! to Dundee at once. Without delay • the poor fellow was carried down to i the con hand M'Diurtnid and Klspctli ! ijv accompanied Davie and the doctor. the guidwiTe tenderly nursing Curly’s i , head upon her lap all the way,'and nover quilting him till bo was safely ensconced in the infirmary. The poor soul had a son of his ago tlghtlng tho j queen’s battles far away in India—so I aha kissed his fevered brow and mat- > lered: ., "Puir bairn! It’s my heart that’s sad for ye. Puir laddie! pjir laddio! It’s waa for the mitker that bare ye." >f:, . "When M’Diarmid led her from tha room she hissed in his ear: "Sandy, Hwos yon muckle lang loon with the corbie's beak and the evil een that did Jv it Hut he'll never pro per with-the la sin nor with aught else.” * Curly’s ease was one that almost if1;!' ba' od the (acuity, hut Dr. Dixon was , not to be beaten; he had made up his < v mtnd to save his patient, and save U . him he did at last l’erchance it hud V been better for the poor allow had he died then and there Tho • good Samaritans at the infirmary ; - . nursed him by day. watched over him C by night, with unceasing tenderness f and care anticipating bis every wish, fain every look. ’ v Whoa at length. after months of sV darkness and delirium, the light of reason began to dawn; thore was gen t?. eral rejoicing throughout t..e place, for they had grown to love the poor »v creature even as though ho were 'Y»: their own khh and kin. Every morn ing; when Dr. Dixon came in. hU pa 4y tient's face would light up into the [/ shadow of a smile, and his eye would follow his nurse with a kind of dutch dog-liko gratitude. Though speech was den'ed him he could dis ■ Slaguish all that was said to him. and ^’{£'.1* was. quite touching to see him gen ' tljMnke the hand of nurse or doctor. > hnd kiss it with some ol the old grace. When at length Jcunnio M’l'herson recovered si;o < ould scarcely recog nise Iter beautiful young mistress in i>~' the stern, gray woman to whom she owed hdr life. As soon as she was !;.• able io speak coherently Flora in sisted on the truth. When the girl ■i told her, all Floia’s anger against fX. M’ AUister ripened into openly a owed ifij: indignation, and tho estrangement between father and' child was com plete. As for DeemjNter. she had al ways disliked him. now sho positive ly loathed the sight of tho man. Ho was a constant visitor, but whonever . be entered the room sho left it— ;V whenever be-at down to table she rose and (.uitled it without a word. ■iy ' ‘ One day the two men had been iriaHnw together, and M'Allisler , .. . ' ' ■ ' rought the other In to aiuner. A■ toou as Flora saw him sho rose and vurnod toward tho door. ■■bide a woo. Flora," said M’Allls* ter. "It's time to j«ut a stop' to tnls nonsense. You may ns well aeons tom yoursotf to Strath mines' company, becauso I've given my word that you ure to bo his wife. ” ••And Mr. Doompstor?" she In quired, coldly. ••Why. look here Flora” replied Dnn’I. At the sound of his voice sho drew herself up disdainfully. “Sir." sho said. “I have nlroady erlvon my father an answer, but evi dently ho has not beon frank with you. I shall nover marry. If my mnrrintre eould save tho world and all thrills in It from destruction, vou nro iho last man on earth that ) could over call husband. Gracious God!” sho criod. bursting out. •'Can this creature not soo how I hato him? I loathe iho very sound of his voice. His sight is poison to mo. For you. sir. " sho said, turning to hor father. ! • if ever you sutler this mau to ob 1 trade himself on mu again I quit your roof the next moment.” 1" ho then loft tho room. From that time forth sho confined herself to her own apartments; except for her faith ful Jeannie, sho was always alone. •'So. after all their scheming, after jslL !h**ir violence, it had come to this: Three lives blighted, two hearts broken, and tho Laird of Slrathmincs further otT than ever from the one ob ject on which ho had cent ed bis hopes, in this world and the next CHAPTER VII. Good Samaritans. Six months and more had elapsed slnco Willie and Curly had parted. •Jamieson thought it strange, after all Donald's urolestationsL (hat he had pcvoronce written, and the soft place in his heart grew sore. At length tho time arrived for the return of the company to Abordeon. Ono day. taking a solitary ramble in tho neighborhood of the Gairloch Hoad, tho young tragedian encoun tered a lady and her maid driving in an open pony carringei Sho looked at him. and bowed; bo bowed aguin ns sho passed out of sight. Tho face evoked an 'impression—not a recol lection. Yea be had seen a face somewhere like that before. Could it bo? Pshaw! No. This woman was sterner and older—she was twenty yours older—and yet. how the face haunted him! Next morning he fouud a letter on tho breakfast tnblo. It was an official looking document, written on blue pnper. On the outside page was prinlod in bold characters, • -Royal Infirmary, Dundee.” Tne superscrip tion was in a strange hand. Eagerly tearing open the envelope, he read these six words: ••Dear Willie—Come to me. Cur ly.” Feeble and indistinct as were the characters, there was no mistake about ihe writer. Without waiting for food or anything else Willie ran down to Johnston's lodgings showed him tho letter, and asked leave ef ab sence. The manager, who was not without just cause for complaint against Curly for ‘ bolting’' at a mo ment’s notice, and leaving him in the lurch, said: •Ca my lad—go at once. There's something wrong, depend on’t. Do you want any tin?” ••Well, I’m not all over money, sir. and I may want something when I get to Dundee;” •Well—take ten pounds. Will that be enough?” •Vcuite enough.” "Stop. Should you need any more, send for it, and tell the young beggar that the old berth is open to him if he likes to come back. Good by. and good luck to you. Drop mo a line as soon as you see how the land Ilea and take a week’s leave of ab sence, I’ll play Macbeth to-night and arrange the business for the rest of the week without you.” Next morning, by 11 o'clock. Jnm eson was at the infirmary in Dundee, Dr. Dixon told him. as far as ho knsw, all that had happened, then they went to the Invalid's room together. They found him sleeping tranquilly—but oh. so changed—so worn and wasted—the sight went to Willie’s heart When poor Curly nwoko he looked up. their eyes mot there was a convulsive movement about the mouth and the muscles of tho throat, theu he gasped out tho | first urticulate words be had uttered for mouths. "Willie, dear old chap. 1 i knew you’d come,” With that ho put his wasted arms around the other's neck, and burst out crying like a child. The doctor blew his nose till it resounded like a sDeaklmr trumpet, and withdrew, leaving or ders for the two young men to be left alone. Thanks to his influence, they slept in the same room, so that they were not separated night nor day during his short visit. After that Curly’s recovery, though still slow, was certain. Jatnleson waa of course. anxious to know what had really occurred since their parting. and how it was that tho accident or outrage had happened. One day he broached the subject but at the mere mention of Flora’s name the other lell into a paroxysm of grief, which was not only terrible to behold, but caused a relapse of so serious a character as to bo attended with great danger. That morning, when Dr. Dixon came he found his patient trembling, con* vulscd and speechless. Tho work of months had been undone in an instant • What's up?” he inquired. When Jamieson explained, he grunted. -Ob, a woman of courses I might have known that; there al ways is a woman! That explains the rest There is a man. then, •doubtless —another man —and he it is who has smashed this poor lad's 6lcull. D'ye ken the murdering thief?" ••I think I do. ” replied Willie. .•■•If I were sure of it! If only I were sure of it" ‘if’.' •Anyhow, you may be quite sureof one thing." said Dixon. ••The blow that neurly bludgeoned your friend out of ilfo came from a loaded weapon of some sort.” ••If l live,” aaid thootber. ‘Ill find It out. I know the man—he may es« capo the law, but,” and he bet bis teeth, - he shall not escape me. It may not be to dny. nor to-morrow, nor noxt week—but sooner or later. I'll have it out with him as sure as my nnmo’s Willie Jamieson." And so tho matter dropped for the present The doctor gave Curly a composing draught and next day he began to mend again, though slowly. At the end of a week Willie had to return to Aberdeen to wind up the season and to take his benefit When he told Curly thnt he must go, ho moaned piteously. "You're not going to leave me so soon?” Hut he was reassured when Willie told him that he would return id a torinigni. When Jnmieson cot back to Aber deen, he recalled the mysterious lady. He understood well enough now who she wns. So he went straight to M’Aliister bouse, and asked to see Flora. Ho encountered tho old man, who was characteristically insolent, and demanded to know -‘what, the blazes he wanted with his daughter," A little insolence went a long way with Jumieson. who could be danger ous when he was angered? and Mr. M'Allistcr concluded it was best to be civil, and even vouchsafed the infor mation that his daughter had gone to Edinburgh on a visit to her aunt. Upon the subject uppermost in both men's hearts they did not oven touch. Jamieson departed in an evil mood to seek L'eempster's house. Fortunately for the Laird of Strathmines, he, too. had gone to Edinburgh. At length it was time to return to Dundee for the commencement of the Season. Thanks to the consideration of the doctor and the house surgeon, the rules and regulations of the infirmary were relaxed in favor of their patient, and alt the members of the company —n:on. women and children—were permitted to come and see him. bring ingt|Utle presents of flowers and the like. These visita instead of fatig uing. brought him daily fresh breaths of life from the outer world, and he began to rally rapidly. [TO BE CONTINUED. ] THE ART OF FASCINATION. It Blast He Cultivated Early and la the Home Circle. The secret of fascination is one which many women would sacrifice a great deal to learn. To cultivate a charming and attractive manner one must begin at home, and surely a bet ter school could not be devised, for the training is, in its way. perfection. Here you are sure to find each day little rubs which must be smoothed with skilful touch: there is a con stant mind friction going on even among the most devoted members of the household. It is a painful fact, though none the loss true, that one's family acts us a constant counter-irritant. Now a steady effort to smooth over the rough placea minister to wounded hearts and with deft touches erase un pleasant memories is called for. and she who obeys tnese summons is pret ty sure to find herself full able to cope in the most agreeable fashion with the outside world. Few women, however, realize that a fascination of manner is not born, but cultivated. It begins to bud in the nursery, developes under the skil full training of painstaking instruct ors. and blossoms forth into complete; beauty in the society of well-bred' women.—Philadelphia Record. Doubtful Success. Imagination sometimes creates dif ficulties und sometimes but not often, it helps to overcome them. A maid en lady.-liviog at a fashionable water ing-place on the Western coast of England, is said to have bad a great curiosity to aee Napoleon. \V hen he was a prisoner on board the Ballerophon tossing in Tor Bay. she braved the dangers and discom forts incidental to a trip in a small fishing boat on a windy day in order to get a look at the captive, who bad ••whipped the world." On returning to shore late in the evening, exhausted but rejoicing, she was asked by a less enterprising friend if she had really soon -the monster." To this question the enthusiastic spinster replied by lifting up eyes and bauds in fervent gratitude to heaven, und exclaiming: ••Yea thanks for the sight! At least," she continued dropping her voice to a doubtful mutter. “1 believe 1 almost saw his coattails.” — Youth’s Companion. A Baikci at the ntMiheid. When a sailing master wishes to buy oysters in the ports of the Ches apeake ho runs up to the masthead an oyster basket, and presently has plenty offered at the vessel’s side. Down at C’hincoteague Island the basket at the masthead is sometimes accompanied by a flag of concentric squares in different colors. During the closed season for oysters the bas ket and the flag indicate that the mas ter wishes to buy clams. The Chin j coleague clam digger works during j the greater part of the year, and a ! very spry man in a spot where clams j me ttiick can tread out a great many I hundred in a day. Clams fetch from ! $1 to $1.6t> per 1,000 at Chincoteague, J which seems a great deal for the | money when one thinks of clam chow der at a fashionable restaurant. X Feminine Trait. “You ortu’t to put them pieces o’ money in yer mouth, Swipsey,” said the newsboy. ' ••Why not?* demanded the boot black. ••'Coz it ain't manly. It makes yer look like a woman ridln' on a street car.”—Chicago Daily Tribune. • ’ ' • . . . : C ‘-•''-. V'V. - FARM AND HOUSEHOLD. CONSIDER WELL BEFORE MAK* INQ CHANGES. B« flora Voo Can Do Better Before Ton ’ tomatoes. Deep cultivation of the orchard frequently injures the roots of the trees. An exchange recommends the fol lowing as a good wash for cherry trees: A pailful of common white wash. a pint of soft soap and a pound of sulphur. Lots of orchards are failing to yield fruit because of neglect. Trees full of sprouts and dead limbs need not be expected to yield bountifully. They need judicious pruning. If you plant seed of an old variety that will not produce as much by fifty per cent a j a new vaiioty would produce, it is pretty plain that it would pay to buy new seed, is it not? Before an inexperienced man goes into horticulture too far, he had bet ter profit as far as possible by the experience of successful fruit-grow ers. Such wisdom and precaution will save many a fatal blunder. The big red apple and the big red strawberry are the fruits that sell. Better apples and better berries may stand along side of such fruit, but they are not as handsome, but they will rot while the others are selling. Fouselioltl Helps. It is said that a spooiiful of "grated horse radish in a pailful of milk will keep it sweet for several days. Grape fruit is almost as good as quinine for malarial troubles, and pineapplo is a sure cure for soro throat. Tomatoes are perfect liver regulators—they contain a very small portion of mercury. Oranges act on the kidneys vory tonoficially, while lemons and grapes are efficacious in curing and preventing cancerous troubles. a aeugntiui mixture tor perfuming clothes thjit arc packed away, and which is said to keep moths out also, is made as follows: Boat to a powder one ounce each of cloves, caraway seeds, nutmeg, mace, cinnamon and Tonquin beans, and as much .orris rcot as will equal the weight of the foregoing ingredients put together. Idttlo bags of muslin should be filled with this mixture and placed among the garments. Watercresses act on the lungs, and are said to bo a cure for incipient consumption. They certainly have marvellous tonic power, and refresh one after great fatigue. A diet of grapes as a cure-all has been proved valuable in hundreds of cases, and, if taken in time, a case of jaundice can be cured by eating nothing but lettuce and lemon juice. In the face of this, can one not almost dispense with doctors? A dermatologist of high standing says that the proper way to shampoo the head is to use some pure soap, such as castile of the best quality, or glycerine soap, made into a “good lather on the hoad,” with plenty of warm water, and rubbed into the scalp with the fingers or with a rather stiff brush that has long I bristles. When the scalp is very | sensitive, borax and water, or the | yolks of three eggs beaten in a pint j of lime water, are iecommended in I stead of soap and water. Bent and weary she totters alon, past great marts of trade, over th! black river, down narrow side streets, to the rotting teaemont which eivei her shelter. For whom does she toil? Do the hungry lips of gaunt children wait for the bread she brings? Up the narrow stairs she climbs wearily. Pushing open the black, worm eaten door she looks about ter expectantly: Her first thought is of —food? Concealing something under her shawl she turns and goes down into the night. Across the street shines the bril liant window of a saloon. She pushes open the screen door and enters. Is it a wayward son she seeks? A tin pail clatters on the bar. Be side it jingle ten copper cents. “Fill de growler,Mike," she hisses, “or I’ll smash you. You cheated m* out of half de bear last night.” TO LAND A TROUT. Some Kales Which Intending FUhm should StuJjr Carefully. The oncoming of the trout fishing season will land additional interest to the following,, quoted from the Brooklyn Eagle. In throwing a fly raise the arm well up without laboring the body. Send the fly backward by a sudden spring of the wrist. Do not draw tne fly too near or you lose your pur chase for sending it back, and, there fore, require an extra sweep in the air before you can got it into play again. If on sending it back you make the counterspring a moment too soon you will whip off your tail j fly, and if a moment too late yonr line will fall In a slovenly manner, i The knack of catching this time is, therefore, the whole art of throwing well. Allow the line uo more than just time to -»nfold before repeating the spring of the wrist When a fish is hooked the line should be wound up immediately. The rod must be held on the bend, with just purchase enough to prevent the trout from going under a weed or boring into the gravel. Now let : him run and walk by the side of the stream. When he strikes ease him quickly. When he becomes weak pull him gently down stream, aim ing to get his nose above water. This must be..dona with patience. Gradually get the fish on some slop* ing place, and never attempt to pnjl him out of the water, as boysdobull heads. Capture him as best you can, always remembering that it is never safe to think a trout is drownedmM you have him safely in your ban Tho sight of a man with a landing net sometimes revives an apparen ly exhausted fish in a miraculous manner. , Trout seldom rise well to a J nst before rain or at midday. _ Trolling or spinning a nnnM» nd bait fishing in all its ph“ equire no description. Every sc oy knows how to catch trou J hese methods. Most of the choice trout waters oa ,ong Island are now owned or leasw y sporting clubs or by Pr._ adivlduals, and efforts Nave lade to induce legislators to c pon the former privileges ime that are not enjoyed by ents of other parts of the E P Easier to Cut. The five pointed star on the n tional flag is a woman’s idea. ^ inkton wished to adopt tn ^ pointed or ecclesiastical sta . Mrs. Betsy Ross, who made tee ^ American flag, showed him five-pointed star could bo m° veniently cut _ The Wall or Soverm. The wall of Severus, sCPar®:”’ Eng laud from Scotland. «nty. six miles long and guarded o) ^ one' forts. It was twenty feet^ and twenty-four feet t*1'1*’ m0»t the north was protected by forty feet wide and twenty fe England Hu Unwelcome I"\'I“l^*°ed Lord Lyon Playfair recently in the house of lords that un^ 200,000 pauper aliens. l7,0Jd°i were Russians and Poles had1*^ in Great Britain, against a“ gration to America of 17Si>>a