P,v THE APPROACH OF NIQHT. And all the dowy arvows of the night Shot out from a quivering space: While ovary little loaf ami louder flower Bent to rooolvo t.ho stveot baptUm of graco And all the garish lights of day Pled baok ward to u fleeting iloa’h; And every winged thing of earth Was hushed iosofi ami slumbrous breath. Then, from somewhere out. the aides, There stole upon a waiting world The soft awoot imaee of paradisn From out tbo groat uuiocn t’was hurled. —Intor-Ocoun. f: The Actor's Story, ty . - nV JOHN (OLEitfAN. CHAPTER Xtl—CovTfxrK.rv. As ihe mall rattled through Bir mingham that night it passed within a stone's throw of a pauper lunatic asylum, whoro a worn und wasted man lay, making one continual moan: "All. my loved! My lost love! If you only know—if you only know!” Could tho Inmntosof that couch hnvo board that plloous prayer oven thou it might not have boon too lulo! Alas! ' CHAPTER XIII. Waiting on tho Other Side. Whon thoy got back to Edinburgh Flora rallied a little, but she hail a v presentiment that tho end was near, and she wished to close her eyes there whore thoy had first scon tho light, so after tv rest of a fow months she pro liv pared to return home. The season boingovor in Edinburgh 'Jamieson arranged to play a short ; engagement In Aberdeen, and thoy journoyod north together. S'* Hor relations having espoused her father’s views on tho subject of her connection with Curly, a total es trangement had ensued between them. Except tho family doctor and Jean 7 nle and Willie sho had not airload in tbo world. It was not to bo wondcrod at therefore that sho urgod tho latter to oocupy her father’s rooms -during his visit Considerations of decorum Induced him to pause but whon Jean ; i nle added hor entreaties to those of her mistress, and when Dr. Miller as s'.' mred hint that it was absolutely nec essary that eomo one in whom sho could confide should bo always near her. why he snapped his lingors at •■Mrs. Grundy,” and took up his j abode at Galrloch house. From tho first Flora did not deceive .; herself, so one day whilo Jamieson at rehearsal sho 6ont for Mr. k: M'Crawley Glttins, tho family solic itor. and mado her will. This gentle man demurred in carrying out hor in struetions. .but sho was peremptory J§7 and there was nothing for It but to ;> obey. The will was executed and at testod by the gardener and coachman. Then she gave tho documont to tho doctor (whom sho had constituted one of her trustees) for security. The y- lawyer did not look ovorplcasod. and \iy; took his departure somewhut abruptly. At length Jamieson’s engagement ; was over, and he was enabled to do- j V vote more timo and attention to the Invalid. Every day about noon sho Usually tottered luto tho room, sup ported by Jeannie; then ho would as sist her to tho sofa placed outside tho !•*'drawing-room. in tho garden over-1 . looking tho sea. whoro they would sit 1 for hours together reading or talking . of her lost love. Sho never believed that he was dead. At length oame tho time when she could no longer loave hor room. Wil lie became more and moro anxious, and Dover left tho house. Every now ■ , and thon Jeannie reported that tho -invalid was sleeping, or. perhaps that she was reading Curly's letter* s; or weeping over his portrait, y As Jamieson's anxiety increased he would lie awake half tho night read ing One night, especially, ho had a pro f sentiment of evil which kept him •( awake till daybreak. Ho read, or ‘ried to read, far into the morning, until it was fair daylight—indeed, al yl- moat tube for him to get up. At last y he felt’® into a stupor of sleep. He had baiwly slept half nn hour when Jeanole oame to his bedsido and touebod him on the shoulder. In a moment he was awake. ••Come.” sho [i said He looked at hor pale face and knew what she meant. The time had come. He remembered long after that it was the twelfth of May—the C second anniversary of the fatal day at the ferry. When he entered Flora’s chamber the large French windows were opea wido, the sweet smell of ri ' the flowers, the fresh breath of the 77, »ea the rippling of the waters wash ing the shore below at the foot of tho garden, the bud. tho leaf, tho flower, and the young dav leaping into life. * the joyous carol of tho lark ascending j to the gates of heaven God s glorious ; J sunshine filling the room—all these made it seem as if death could never .' come where all this busy, beauteous life abounded. • Thera she lay. in the light of the dawning day. docked as if for a bridal. She was clad in a white lace j\y pelgnor—dowers still fresh with the mor.iing dew were around her and about her. the graynoss nud the gloom .-.i had gone, the bloom of youth had re turned to her cheeks, her eyes >;T.. glistened with a humid, tendor light —•the sea breeze toyed softly with her beautiful hair as it fell in tangled masses on her shoulders. To the left of the bed stood Curly's portrait, long since finished. The 1? -. poor lad was attired in his cornet's uqiform—the dress he had worn the night when they lirst met at the ball, s V,. ’ bbe was smiling upon the picture, and Jamieson thought the picture was smiling upon her. 'V • Soft as his footfall fell she heard it Turning toward him. she spoke in a low. soft voice. The words and the melody dwelt in his memory as long as he lived. ’•Willie" she said—she had nevei called him by that name before— !;■ ••may I call you so?" 'The tears which he strove to keep back, i boked him. and he could only &■, bow bis head in silence. She took hia huge haml in hor baby Ungers, as she continued. ‘•You weroalways a friend—always, and you hive been very good to me. When all this Is but a memory, lhope you’ll moot seine woman worthy of you. and If children should como to bless your home, call them after him —aftor him and—me." Then she kissed his hand. After a pause, she inquired. “Do you remember whnt day to Is Is?” Again ho bowed his head, while she continued in the tame swooti, gontlo voice: ••This day, two years ago, they killed our young Uvea, but they could never kill our love—that will live when wo are dead! Hush! you aro a man—a bravo ona Don't cry for me. deur—I nin happy now. Ho will come back to you some day—I’m sure ho will. Toll blm 1 loved him always —tell him I huvo waited for him hero ns long as I could, now I shall wait for him there! My poor Curly!” c haFterxvi. Mun to Man. The relatives came down like a horde of locusts at the funeral. They wore all Presbyterians anil Elora was a lloman Catholic, so they left the cortego at the gate of the burial ground. Tho chief mourners wore the doctor. Jeannie and Willie. When (hey npproachcd the grave, there stood besido it a gigantic man whom Willie instantly recognised from Elspetli M'Diarmid's descrip tion. There was no mistake about the •■corbie’s beak and tho evil eon." now bloodshot und inflamed. Tho very sight of this loathsome creature set Jamieson's blood on tire, and ho had the greatest difficulty in restrain ing himself from taking tho law into his own hands there and then. A hugo white horse, a vicious looking beast with a tremendous Roman noso, stood tied up without tno gate, champing fretfully at the bit As soon as the codin was lowered, with an impatient gesture Dcerapster turned away, leaped on the horse pave him the spur, and was out of sight in a moment. ••ARer all,” muttered Willie be tween his teeth. • it is best it should bo so. I can wait I can wait!” On returning to the Uairloch house after tho funeral he and tho doctor found tho relatives in solemn conclave in the dining room, paying their re spects to the ‘•funeral-baked moats,” The genernl buzz of conversation ! censed as Jamieson entered. With- I out ceremony Dr. Miller proceeded to i read the will. With tho exception of j certain legacies such as live hundred I pounds to the doctor's daughter, flvo I hundred pounds to the lawyer, two ! hundred a year to Jeannie. and vari- ! ous smaller sums to the servauts, tho j whole of tho estate, real and person- j al moneys invested in stock, etc.. ; amounting in the aggregate to some- | thing like twelve thousand pounds a j year, was bequeathed to Jamieson in I trust for Curly (if ho should be alive), j falling this Willie was to inherit everything absolutely, without let, hindrance, or control being consti tuted residuary legatee and joint exe cutor with Dr. Miller. When the will was read a dead silence ensued. Evidently the family circle had been already prepared for this tntelii ponco and their plan of notion had been arranged. Every one ’turned round and looked at the lawyer, who rose, and clearing his throat with a glass ol sherry, said: ••Ahem, my friends I am already acquainted with jour views nud it only remains for me to carry out my instructions. Ahem! Dr. "Miller. I beg to inform you and yonder young man that my clients here assembled will resist to the uttermost the carry ing out of this will and. in fact, legal proceedings havo this day been com menced. praying the court not to grunt probate on tho grounds of in sanity on the part of tho testatrix and undue influence on the part of tho residuary legatee. Acting under ad vice, tho seal or tho procurator-fiscal has been placed upon all documents valuables, etc., belonging'to the es tate and as we aro de facto in pos session (which, as you are doubtless awara is nine points in law) on be half of the next of kin. nothing re mains for me but to request the so-call ed executors and tho woman Jeannie McPherson to quit thia house with as little delay as possible. As we do not Wish to behave ungenerously, we will allow you half an hour to clear out. We have left nothing to accident and the police are here should it bo found necessary to have recourse to them in aid of the process of ejectment” Hero was a deadlock. The doctor j and Jamieson took stock of the situa [ tion. found the enemy held every ! card except the will and. desirous of | avoiding scandal left tho house im | mediately without a word. Not so poor jeannie. &>ne cave too enemy n hot time of it, but in the end even she bad to succumb to the rough logic of facts. Jamieson accompanied the doctor to his solicitor, and gave instructions for the defense of their rights under the will, and so commenced the litiga | tion in the famous case of 'Jamieson and Miller vs. M’AUister and Others." Fortunately ior Jeannie. the doctor, who was a widower, wanted a hbuse keeper to look after his daughter Mag* gie, and he installed Jeannie at once. Jamieson had an engagement of j fered him for Glasgow, and there was i nothing to detain him further, except ! to "Dave it out” with Mr. Deempster. I Stratluninos is about six miles from j Aberdeen but that was nothing to Willie, so he walked over one line morning after breakfast On arriving at the lodge ho inquired if the laird was ;about? The lodge-keeper re plied '• dfe is gone out to have a wee bit rabbit shooting. You’ll find him in the glen yonder, about a mile and a bittoek awa\” A mile and a bittoek means two good Knglish miles or more. Still it was all in the day’s walk. At length Willie reached the glen. As he en tered at one enu Deempster appeared v ♦ '>1*4. .•* "1 ' * at the other, with hie gun and \£k j dog a pretty black pointer. At the two men approahel eaoh other the j dog came bounding forward and licked Jamioson's hand The laird I pulled himself up stiflly. and growled ! out, “Now then, what do you want?" •■I want you. Dan'l Dceinpstor. l>o you know mo?" ••Oh. uy. I ken you well enough, l'ou’ro tho play-actor fellow that was at the funeral the other day; but you’re no’ in the klrkyard the noo, you'ro trespassing on my grounds, so you'd bettor make yourself scarce." ‘-Not till I have sottled my account with you." •ue.- js mo leuow maur ■ ‘•Taka care that you keep a civil tongue in your head. Mr. Ddompster. or it will be the worse for you. I’ve waited for this two years or more, but now the time has come.” “Well, now that it has come, once more I ask. What do you want with mo:'" • I want to tell you that when you ffave Donald Campbell that foul blow, ■ out below the hill by Dudhopo Ferry. I you murdered two lives, and because | the law can take no cognizance of your crime you thinic you can escape j with impunity!" \ ‘Impunity!” roated Deempstor; I “is it impunity to have that baby faced blockhead, with his great glit tering eyes, his white face, and fair hair streaked with blood, standing by my bedinud board by day and night! Hut thero— Clear out, or I’ll riddle your hide with buckshot? You won’t? Then by”-and with the word he lifted his gun, and let fly at Willie. Fortunately his eye was quicker than the other's hand, and he cast himself full length on the grass as the charge flew harmlessly over him. The next instant ho was at his would be assassin's throat had snatched the rifle from him. smashed the stock and barrel over his knee, and hurled it a. hundred paces away. The pointer stood still ar.d trembled. Then the tragedian said, in a stern, quiet voice. •! don’t wish to have blood on my soul—not even the blood of such a skunk as you are. But I am going to thrash you as long as I can stand over you. • So put up your hands and don’t let me take you at a disadvantage.” ••You take me at a disadvantage— you?" •••Don't talk, but put up your hands I tell you." [TO BE CONTINUER] ALAS FOR HER. The Sad, Sad Tale of a Cable Ride and llralds of Soft. Hair. A sad. sad tale is floatiug about the circumambient atmosphere about a sweet young girl, says the Louisville Commercial, who wont out a summer ovening with her best young man. Her toilet was simplicity and good taste itself. Arrayed in vestal white, with white lilacs in her hat, and her gloves and boots most unexception able, she was a "maiden fair to sea” Why. a man would know as soon as ho looked at her that she was sweet ness and modesty itself. Nothing strained nor artificial about her. She was a human daisy, a violet, with no knowledge of the arts nnd shams of women who have been in the hollow, artificial world. Her young man was all attention. Ho placed her upon a front seat in the cur and proceeded to do the devotion act thoroughly. And she shyly blushed and sweetly smiled in an enchanting manner as she in clined her fair young head toward him to catch his murmured words. All was going on beautifully when one of ihe two young men who sat just behind them called the at tention of his companion to somu thing about the bead of the young girl. 'The other follow grinned, and then a woman across the aisle smiled, which attracted the attention of olher people on the car. and they also looked and seemed amused. The best young man detected these glances and saw that something was wrong, and he proceeded to take a look himself at the back hair of the one dear to him. Of course, her hair was ar ranged in just the pretty, natural way one would expect in a girl like that— just a simple braided knot of silken tresses. But out of the center of the knot, where an unkind fate had caused a hairpin to give way. lhet-6 protruded the end of a switch of false hair, to which was appended the hair dresser's ticket, with the price of the braid upon it And if it had not been for those horrid young men it would never have been seen. And it war just too mean too! bo there, now! . Perpetual Holy Lamps. Cedemus makes mention of a lamp. ' which, together with an image o'. I Christ; was found at Edessa, during | the reign of the Emperor Justinian. ! It was set over a certain gate, and sealed so as to exclude all air. Thr seal testilied that these details wert. carried out soon after the crucifix on. When opened by the soldiers of Coa roes, king of Persia it was found to be burning as brightly at when first inclosed, over 600 years before. The Persian forces broke down the shrine and poured out the oil that was still in the lamp an act which is said to have been followed by a great plague. At the time the old monasteries of England were demolished a lamp was found in a tomb which was supposed to have been burning since about the year SO.) A D. How these things were accomplished is a mystery, but it is supposed that the Romans under* stood how to resolve gold into an oil a few ounces of which would suffice | to burn a thousand years. If such an art was ever understood it it now ir> retrievably lost—Philadelphia Press. A Horseshoe of Cowhide. . A very elastic and durable horse shoe is made in France by comprcssinc cowhide in a steel mold and then sub jecting It to a chemical process. It i» said to last longer than iron and needs no calka as it adheres readily to any surface however smooth. FARM AND HOUSEHOLD THE GOSPEL OP CLEANLINESS IN THE DAIRY. Dairying la TlcklUli Dullness—Deop Cultivation—Queen* Getting Loat—Ab sorption In Drained Soils—Stock Notes and Household Helps. Cleanliness* Dairying1 is a very ticklish busi ness, Dairy products absorb odors so readily that to keep them pure re quires the greatest of care. The country storekeeper gets some hard raps for his “detestible” jumble of different grades of butter, good, bad and indiffercul; and I am free to con fess that ho doservos pretty nearly all the censure he gets. But he is not the author of all tho bad butter in the world. His offense is chiefly that he spoils some good butter by mixing it with grease. The grease i is not made by him. It is sold to him for butter. My desire is to im press the butter maker with tho fact that often through a little carelessnoss on his or her part butter is ruined. Sometimes it is injured without any fault of the buttor maker. It may be injured while in the udder. Galen Wilson1* recently gave an illustration of this, in writing of the experience which another had, who said: “I once got up my cows late at milking time, be tween sunset and dark. I sat down to milk, and at the first stream was almost choked with the effluvia of a skunk. Tho hired man cried out that the devil was to pay with the cow, and we found every cow so tainted that the milk was worthless. That is all I Know about it, but I suppose the cows had encountered a skunk.” Now, if a cow’s milk while in her udder can be so contaminated by her sense of smell, says Wilson, it is perspicously explained how the milk gets into the dairy cocoanut. Milk, when warm especially, absorbs odors equally well whether in’ the udder or not In a search for the causes of so much poor butter it is found that the farmer is many more times in fault than his wife, who does the mechanical part of making it At first tho cow may have sour or musty feed to eat, stagnant and bac teria-ladon water to drink or manure odors to inhale. And when the milk is drawn it encounters stable and ^barnyard scents; and when being con veyed to tho dairy-room it possibly passes the pig pen, with its odorif erous exhailations, the swill barrel privy, a dead cat or hen lying on the ground, the sink-drain, bad smelling spots on tho ground where slops have been thrown and rotten chips in the woodshqd. These are all faults of the’ man. Woman’s derelictions are that when milk enters the dairy in mav encounter scents of cooking vegeta tables, boiling clothing, steam frepn washtub, floor mopping, musty cellar scents, stale victuals and filth in the corners and seams of milk utensils. All of these scents pierce the milk as surely as the sharp sticks do the white man, with this difference, that tho sticks are withdrawn and the scent remains to corrupt the mass. To make first-class’bntt9r every visi ble and invisible Indian must be sup pressed,says a Farmer’s Voice writer I have found all this true in my forty years’ experience, and anyone who observes it will also find it true. Deep CultlvAdou. I read an article in your paper by D. J Bissell, on “Corn Culture,” which interested me, and as he wants to hear from farmers and I be ing a jack-at-all-trades will give my experience, and that will differ from Mr. Bissell as regards shallow culti vation. Now, it all depends on how you break the> ground; if you break your ground shallow and plant your corn it will come up and grow right away from corn planted in same field when ground is broke deep. Now, the reason for that is this, the sub soil is hard and as tho planter packs the ground tight around the seed, the moisture from the ground starts the seed quicker than when the soil is deep plowed and necessarily looser around the kernel. In that case I think shallow cultivation would be the only way proper, since the ground is too hard for the roots to go down i for moisture, they must have to spread out and if you cultivate deep and cut those little feeders off, you I injure your corn. ii me season is right and soil good. Mr. Bissell can raise corn, but let him plant his corn that way, and tend j it shallow. I will proceed as follows as I have done for years with best result and if we have a drouth or if we do not I will beat him on corn. I will plow my ground deep and put on bull tongues and cultivate deep as I plow and close to the corn; keep my ground level, next time I will not plow quite so close but close enough to get the ground all covered with fresh dirt. The third cultivation should not be quite so close to the hill but with large shovels; the fourth time, which will likely bo the last, turmyour shovels so as to put a little more dirt toward corn and put the bull tongue or small shovel on be hind to keep the ground level, but plow as deep as ever. If you have tended your corn right ltwiu now be just ready to commence tasseling and after that time prosecuto any man you catch cultivating your corn. Your ground is loose and the feeders have gone deep and corn is green and will stand drouth while neighbor Biesell’s is all fired: — Coleman’s Bural World. Queens Getting T.tts't. Mrs. Jennie Atchloy tells the Can adian Bee Journal: I have discovered that queens do not often get lost on the mating trip; but, upon their re turn are apt to enter the wrong hive and get killed. Ai we keep several | hundred nuclei together or in adjeo j ent yards, we have had scores cl queens return to the wrong hives, In which, being queenless most of the time, they were accepted.' But she always destroys the cell that is in the nucleus. I noticed that where there are only one or two hives apart by themselves the queens do not get lost. Even the drones in the drone hive will scatter all over the yard, and act pretty nearly the same way. Who evef found a queenless bee tree? I do not believe that one queen in a hundred gets lost or is captured by birds; they simply return to the wrong hive and get killed. A Large CresmAj. An English exchange says: The largest creamery is near St. Albans, Vermont, in the United States. Twelve thousand cows, owned by 700 farmers, supply it with cream, and the average daily produce is 10,000 pounds, or five tons, of butter. All cream receivod is tested in order to obtain a thorough knowledge of the amount of butter fat in the average product of each farm er’s dairy, and he is paid daily for the butter value be brings in. There are fifty-four stations for receiving the milk, and at these sta tions the cream is separated, and only the latter is sent to the factory. They run a score of churns, each of which will turn off 600 pounds of butter in one batch. The butter working machines are four in num ber, and ip a very few moments eighty pounds can be properly worked and salted. They use a cartload of salt every two months, and the fac tory employs sixty hands, besides the forty on the station's employ force, to prepare the product. Absorption in Drained Soils, The power of land to absorb water and hold it without injury is greatly increased by drainago. It is for this reason that the drain .when first laid often runs off more water than it ever does thereafter, while not drain ing so .wide a space as it dcfcs after several years use. Taking off the surplus water in winter allows frost to penetrate the soil deeper, and this by spreading its particles enables it to hold more water. Clover has also a like effect, with the additional ad vantage when it has made full growth that its decaying roots in the subsoil make natural water courses. The deepening of soil by these means is greatly increased by the use of the subsoil plow. With a field clovered, drained and subsoiled there need be little fear of drought, as the soil will hold water enough to tide over the dryest seasons.—American Cultiva tor. Mock Notes. Keep no horses' on the farm for show. Make every one earn its liv ing, or sell it. When a hog is ready for the mar ket it should go to market. Keeping’ fat hogs for better prices seldom pays. Dehorned cattle can bo kept in a common stable without partitions. With dehorned cattle, too, all stock can be pastured together. Grease and carbolic acid make a good composition for lice on stock. A pint of grease'and one and one-half tablespoonfuls of carbolic acid. When tho calf itT once stunted it never gets over it, mind that. The only way to get a good cow, bull or steer is to keep the calf growing all the time. Never buy a calf without learning what its ancestry was. Even if the calf is not thoroughbred, and its an cestry was good, there is a fair chance of its being good. The man who sells a horse with a false pedigree can be and ought to be sent to the penitentiary. It is said that one of this sort is now wearing stripes in one'of our prisons. Household Helps. " ‘ < A woman is just as much entitled to the best washing machine and wringer*,or a good churn, etc.,as her husband is to labor saving machin ery. If John likes good cool milk, firm butter, etc., ho will get his wife a re frigerator or ice chest if she will bring the matter forcibly to his at tention. \ Women need to exercisb prudence on wash day. Going out from a hot room bareheaded, or with bare arms to hang out clothes, is surely im prudent Most housekeepers need to be ^fre quently warned not to hurry or f ?ht Sometimes it seems actually neces sary to hurry, but the habit should be guarded against t The intelligent mother is very par-l ticular about who attends to baby.' Impressions are made on children very early and very easily and noth ing but good ones should bo made. We know women with small fami lies who hire cooking and washing done, when their health is suffering for that kind of exercise. People are better contented and therefore much happier when they have, a reasonable amount of work t& da Madras curtains seem to go best with straw mattings in the summer home. New patterns show pale gold grounds with deep yellow borders. An ivory white curtain is sprinkled with clusters of pinks. These cur tains are usually finished with ball | fringe. There is no nicer "position” for any woman than that of housekeeper for the man of her choice. The girl who is neglecting to learn how to ; cook and keep- house in first-class , style, will certainly rue it in the j future. The false notion that house keeping is not as honorable as a ' clerkship, or some other positions, ia at a discount with sensible people. D;DN’T K.88 Tik* WorrIm«nnt They had been years yet never htuT h« ^1 from the breakfast tabu? **»«» ing without a troodh ^,h'»*. friend came to najj those cynical, time-sm, th5®~W| who find fault with 8i Hill everything, anddeJfdefoVM that the whole schemo 0» the®»*3 wronsr. m 01 crenui The friend did not v the time, although th« his sense ot the Von^' waited until ho hart &M until ho had his k' ^ to speak Th"! ear, ao to speak. Tho« v4U** ^ “You seem to keeiTthe 'etty well. ? the honev pretty well, is over. ’’ Then good, weak Gpm.„n v get wabbly in his minrt® ^ nzjnsf'x&tHm U „la. „ J. ^ cigar, “it is rather a bnl i?h.h “I dare say,” resumed the ‘but I wouldn’t coddle her any frii if I were you. It’s to^,^ mestic, you see, for this a*e Z «4> *”■ the little woman. ” ‘ ea The little woman, who had» “^rlittie Anger than .1 had in his whole body, was know. ” “George,” said the little won in a calm, sweet voice, don’t think it all happened because; went away without a good-byte I’ve had a worrying day, too, an-J laid it all to that. ” “I believe you are right but I really believe there’s thing in it.” “And here’s the money; you dri ped it on the hall floor in your bun And the papers are probably in yi other coat—you know you chain this morning.” “That solves it, little woman,” i George gave her the kiss he 1 omitted in the morning with inten and if the friend could have seen he would have gnashed his teet! but he didn’t. A LITTLb LESSON. And tbe Roses Never Caine Back 1 to the Old Florist. It was'just a little lesson, that all, but it went right to the spit He stopped a moment on his n home to look in a florist’s nindoi and the florist, who saw him, ash him inside tb see something fine. “You don’t buy any more fiowi now ?” said the florist “No,” was the response, gi* good-naturedly, though it was brie! “And it used to be, a year ago more, that' roses and violets and i nations and all sorts were great tractions to you?” “Yes, I had a sweetheart then and the man blushed anti laughed “You used to take her a Bower e« time you went to see her,