Bslgrave Mystery.
£■ ;!; Hr a. ci.lexis voitur.
CHAPTER XI—Continued.
$£ I'wt ore they could touch her. she
rnUed her linnets to tier heart, with a
sharp agonised cry. and foil heavily |
Into a chair. Ilor fnco grow livid; a 1
dark tinge crept over her lips,
f ‘’It tins mine!" she gas pod. pant
ing for breath. "It is—tho last. Ah.
fno.i Dion! have moroy! Forgive—
forgive—” *
With a heavy groan her head fell
back, and after , a brief, convulsive
struggle she lay still.
Sho had escaped human justico.
CHAPTER XII.
(■ Through Sorrow's Oates.
•Oh. my dear, my doar. you did it
for hU sake—you did it to aavo him!
I knew It. I know it my darling
girl,” sobbed pretty, excitable Oladvs
Kennar.i. some days later, as she
olaspod Olive Ponlium In her arms.
(She had not known it; indeed, It
had never struck her for a inoinonb
hut that Is of no consequence).
And. indeed, all London now looked
upon Lady Denham ns a horolno.
I'ubile opinion, which had runstrongty
against her, suddenly veered round—
now that she was free, and cleared ■
from all suspicion—and pronouncod
lior conduct be vend all praise. No
ona, it appeared, had over really be
lieved her to be guilty.
••Poor,, poor darling.'’ said Society
feminine. "Fancy her allowing her
self to be accused, to save her hus
band! So sweet—so romantic! How
fond sho must havo boon of him:’1
•Douoed plucky little woman!"
sa d Society masculine. "By .fo.e!”
ncnnam s a lucky beggar. wonder
»r any woman would show as much
appreciation of me?'
As for Sir Keith himself he did not
know of his wife's loviug sacrifice of
herself for his sake: ha did not know
that »he had been divert buck to him,
and Ih.ii she scarcely ever left his
side. For the fearful strain of these
jiHst weeks had been too much for
him, and ho was raving in brain
lever
He pulled through, though, after
many long weary nights and days;
and at last was pronounced compara
livo'y oat or danger.
Ono evening, when Olive had been
siltiug besldo him almost in silenco—
for ho could not bear to talk or bo
talked to much, as yot—a message
was brongot to her that Mr. Kennari
was downstairs and desired to see
her"
• Denham is better. C'oringham
tells b»” said Kennard hurriedly, ad
vancing to meet her as she entered
the library.
• Yes.” she answered, looking up
at. hint with lovely, heavy eyes,
“ho Is very mu U better. He has
been steadily Improving for the last
three or four days, ltut" she added
With a quiver Of the lift do not
think he remembers anything of_or
wtiut has happened. And lie is so
terrib'y weak. Charlie Corlngtaam
saw him for a few minutes to day, and
I think oven that tired him. bo you
Won't mind If I don't ask you to go
tip?"
•'Not at all" ho answored with h’s
graye smile think one visitor in
• day is enough for him just now. I
oaly came to bring you u piece of
good new* Lady Den mm' . 1
•<»ood news?' she repeated,
. “Yes. I oaly returned this morning
from KildannIon. tho little Irish town
where, if you remember. Felise
Devorne was married to Edgar Vers
choyle.” f', v '
“Was supposed to be married, you
mean," she said bitterly.
“No—-was actually married" ho
answered with deliberate emphasis.
“Here is a copy of tho certificate"
She took the paper he held out to
nor. ana rena u. nor rate (lushing and
puling alternately. Then she laid it
down, and folded her hands together
con ulsively. ’ 4
•Our boy!” she gasped. -Oh.
thank God!—our boy need not be
ashamed—need not be”— She stop
ped suddenly, her chest heaving, her
eyes dilating, a slow, painful blush
mount!uk to her forehead- Then,
with a low. shuddering cry. she th-ew
herself into u chair and hid her face I
on her arms, i
, Kennard bent over her anxiously. j
; *i)ear Lady Denham.” he said :
•you must not agitate yourself in
this way. Remember Keith, your
husband. He needs you. Ho will
'wonder at our absence.” '
••Ah! yea he cannot do without me— 1
yoir’ the murmured, rising slowly to |
her foot *•! will go to him. ’• With]
a quick movement she caught hib
hand, and touched it with her lips.
Then she went swlltly out of the
room. #
One of the nurses met her at the
top of’the staircase,
t *Sir Keith has been asking for you.
Lady Denham." she said. He seems
restless, and not inclined to sleep "
•.!,, Olive stole softly into the sick
room, and bent over the bed.
• Did you want me dear?” she said
in a voice that was in itself a caress.
V ••Yea” he nnsweted with a fired
little smile. “I always want you. I
have been trytng to remember things
—and I can’t. 1 have had such hor
rible droams. Olive—such ghastly,
awful dreams. I thought they had
taken you away from me—you and
tbo bo.v; and"- He stopped and
put bis hand to his forehead with a
woary gesture of pain.
••You must not talk, dear.” said his
wife anxiously, for the doctors still
[feared any excitement for him. •Of
Ijiourso you have had horrible dreams
V‘>u have been very ill, you know.”
, He pressed her hand, and lay silent
tor a time. Then he said suddenly:
-Olive I should 1 ke to see [Cyril."
• Had von not better wait n day or
Jsj.l * • - A.
*\ 1 s’ I '•( V ■■
••No.’• ho answered‘irritably. “I
want to see him now.”
When Cyril came-^ln spite of the
Injunctions he had rocelved from his
nurso to be •'very quiet and not dis
turb his poor papa”—ho throw his
llttlo arms round Denham's neck and
burst into tears.
•‘Oh! father,” he sobbed. 'Tve
been wearying to see you so dreadful
ly. and they wouldn't let mo come.
Oh!—arn'tyou glad darling mother
has come home?"
At the child's words. Denham be
came deathly pale. Olive, seeing
this, hastily unlocked Cyril's cling
ing arms from her husband's neck.
••Hun away, now, Cyril darling,"
sho whispered, kissing the tear
stained llttlo face. “Father is very
weak still. You shall seo him another
time."
••Dot him kiss mo, poor llttlo fel
low.” said Keith, faintly. • flood
night my boy. You shall come again
to-morrow."
•flood-night father. God bless
you. I hopo you’ll sleep well," said
tho sweet childish voice:
'l’ho words saeraod to strike n latent
chord of -moraory in Donham's brain,
llo raised himself with difficulty on
his olbow. and leaned his head on his
hand. When Cyril had gone he said:
••Aro wo alone, Olivo?"
•‘Yea dear.”'
Ho did not speak just immediately;
then ho said, with n terrible agitation
in bis weak voice:
•Olivo—I remember It all—now!
the child’s words brought it all back
to me. And yot~ 1 do not under
stand. Is it you my wife?—or shall I
awake and find It only a dream? I
remember it all—and yet there is
something that always escapes me. ”
he wont oa excitedly. -1 remember
tho murder—the awful days that fol
iowou—anu inai most terrible day or
all when they told me that you—that
you—"
He sank exhaustedly back on his
pillows, and covered his eyes with his
hand.
•Oh. God!” he muttered, '.am I
mad that I cannot remember! Olive
—help mo!"
Ills wife, seeing how fearfully ho
was ugitutod, ana uncertain how far
ho would bo able to bear tho recital
of all that happuned. was inex
pressibly relieved by the nurso’s an
nouncing that one of the doctor* Sir
Henry Drummond was downstairs.
Olive ran down to the library, and
conBded her nnxtety to the Klnd
heurtod old mun who aamired pretty
Lady Denham immensely, and had
always stoutly believed in her in
nocence.
Ho listened with grave kindliness,
as in broken faltering words she told
him of Kennard's discovery; then
with a feiy cheerful reassuring words
ho went up to the siok room. *
Sir Henry wus with his patient for
a considerable time. The general
eonditiou was Improved he said when
he came downstairs again; but Sir
Keith had been somewhat excited, and
must be kept quiet for the remainder
of the day.
••I littvo told him everything, my
dear Lady Denham. ” wont on Sir
Hoary, rubbing his glasses diligently.
••And now. I.think ho would like to
see you. But don’t let him talk
much.
Olivo went slowly upstairs, and into
her husband’s room. He was lying
with his face turned toward the door,
looking white and exhausted but with
a light of great thankfulness in his
eyes. He hold out his arms to hor,
and drew hor houd down to his.
• My wife —my wife!" ho murmured,
with trembling lips. - My noble dar
ling—you would have given your life
for mlno! And I—I had dared to
doubt your love for me—nay. more,
to"-Ho stopped, lor his voice
failed him.
She slipped to her knee* aud rested
her head on his breast.
After a long silence she moved
slightly.
• Ana— oup ooy. . she whispered.
••Did Sir Henry tell you?"
■■Yes," ho answered, and his voice
shook. -'Oh. ray dearest—let us
LhankGod!”
Olive hid her face on his arm.
••But Keith." she stammered almost
weeping, “have you realized that—
that I was never Edgar Verschoylo’s
wife at all!—”
Just for a moment a dark flush rose
to Denham’s forehead.
Then he turned his wife’s face to
his: and a very loving light shone in
his brown eyes as he kissed her qulv-i
ering lips.
“My dear," he said, and the simple
love-word held a world of tenderness.
••I only realize that you are mine—
and that henceforth no earthly power
can take you away from me!"
THE END.
liH'alllble lustration.
• Judging from the dress and gen
eral appearance of that couple that
has just got aboard, it’s a case of bride
and bridegroom. They are starting
on a wedding tour.
••That may be. but they've both
been married before."
• How do you know?"
■•Can’t you see she's carrying all
the bundles?”—Chicago Tribune.
Ureas Book Agents.
Napoleon Bonaparte. Washington.
Longfellow. Daniel Webster. Grant,’
Bismarck. Mark Twain Jay Gould,
ex-Preside nt Hayes and James G,
Blaine alt tried the book canvassing
I business in early life.
A Kmart Lawyer.
••Is Smithins a smart lawyer?"
••Very. Man went to him with a case
involving $150. Said lie was willing
to spend 4l. .500 to get it back. Smith
ins made him out a bill right off for
fl.ttoO."—Brooklyn Life
Comparatively Happy.
lie- •'■Are you happy uow that
you ro married?” She: ••Compar
atively.” He: “Compared with
whom?" She: •Compared with my
busbaud.”—Life.
FARM AND HOUSEHOLD.
BADLUCK IN THE DAIRY MEANS
BAD MANAGEMENT.
Pluck and Common Nance Needed In
Every Ruclneee—Threshing Naejr Hnaae
—Horn Talk—Poultry Pickings and
Household Helps.
Bad Lock In the. Dairy.
No man can thoroughly succeed at
any business unless he is hopeful of
the future. Particularly is this true
of farming and dairying. A dairy
man fulls into a little bad luck with
his cows or milk or butter, and he
gets downhearted, and has an attack
of the “blues.”
When ho is in this state of mind
he is apt to make a worse mistake in
somo form of his dairy management
than the one that originally led to
his discouragement
Now, it is futile to tell a man not
to got discouraged without offering
|ome remedy for a cure of the com
plaint. The most potent remedy that
I know of for this bad ailment is
work—energetic work. So, when a
cow dies of “milk fevor,” or you lose
$10 on the sale of a lot of butter, it
is the poorest policy in the world to
got disheartened over it. By so do
ing you may take so much less inter
est in your dally routine of duties as
to lose two more cows, or $20 on the
next butter sale.
Bad luck is not always avoidable
in the dairy, but a succession of bad
luck generally is, and If a dairyman
meets with many reverses he should
inquire of his own mind if he is not
responsible for some of them. When
dairy mistortunes come to you, work
to retrieve them, whether you feel |
like it or not. As a result, ambition
will come to you, and you will
eventually prosper, says the Ameri
can Cultivator.
Thu dairyman who has his barns
and stocks ihsured*when fire sweeps
them away has not his good luck to
thank for the insurance, but his good
management By a proper business
method he had been enabled to save
something from the wreck to rebuild
again.
Now, ambition will not come to
you spontaneously; you must culti
vate it, and this will bring you
cheerfulness of mind and brighter
prospects. The worst thing that
ever struck a dairy farm is apathy
in the owner. It is a mental dry
rot. It means a dilapidated barn,
dilapidated cows and blue milk.
Apathy will not lift a farm mort
gago. or build a new house, but
energy and persistent work will. I
knew a dairyman once who : had let
one misfortune flatten out all of his
ambition, and he fell into a state of
apathy. Everything on the farm
needed new life infused into it, from
the meadow which did not yield a
ton of hay to the acre to the mongrel
cows that did not pay for their keep
ing from year to year.
This dairyman’s wife, under the
impression that a change was needed,
woman like, thought that she would
do something in a small way to im
prove matters. She had 910 of “pin
money” laid by, and this she expend
ed for a new-born Jersey heifer calf.
Her husband, when he found what
she had dono, was shocked at what
he considered stich wanton extrava
gance. “Why, he had never got
more than 92 for any calf that he
had ever sold, and they were much
more ‘likely looking' than this new
comer.”
It was three years before the lady
could show her husband that she
had net made a mistake in her pur
chase. Then the puny oat*- had
grown to be a milch cow and waa.
producing more butter alone than
any other two cows in his dairy.
What was more, the wife wisely kept
the butter made from her eow sepa
rate irom mat proaucea irom tno
common herd, and under the name
of “Jersey” sold it for a top priee.
Iler Jersey’s first calf was a male,
but she traded it for a heifer, and
soon she owned two, three, five cows,
all profitable animals. Her husband
caught the spirit of progress J that
she had stirred up on his farm and
enlarged the business that she had
created.
It was better to have emulated the
energy of his wife’s example than
not to have been aroused at all. In*
dustry will drive dull care away, for
no one has time to brood over ill
luck while busily engaged in repair
ing its effect.
ijniklag Karr Mean*.
A correspondent who has had ex
perience in that line, says he believes
it is impossible to thresh beans so
that they would sell in the market
Last season he ran some fifty bushels
of navies through a threshing ma
chine and has resolved not to do so
agfln. Fifty per cent of his beans
were split, and the crop would not
sell for seventy-five cents per bushel
if placed on the open marketf. It
was a Hong and laborious task to pre
pare those beans to a salable state,
but he succeeded in selling them all
with the exception of ten bushels of
screenings. He says;’ These screen
ings make excellent soup, but not
being partial to bean soup my supply
bids fair to be everlasting.
Even a small per cent of split
beans would materially depreciate
the value of the beans, and in order
to obtain the top prices they would
have to be hand-picked, and to pick
out those broken beans is something
more than to pick out the black and
damaged beans as is otherwise dono.
1 shall not attempt to thresh my
beans by a threshing machine until
the industry in this locality has
grown to such proportions that it
would pay to invest in a special bean
thresher. This season I shall use a
flail altogether if> I cannot find a bet
ter way. * 7 -
I estimate that the cost of flailing
and runuing through a fanning mill
will be less than twenty-five cents per
bushel, and it would not be less by
using a threshing machine. It is a
curious fact that a good many men
here who have not grown twenty
five bushels of beans in their lives,
stoutly assert that threshing beans
with an ordinary threshing machine
is a grand success, and influenced by
their opinions I went at my beans
with great expectations. It did not.
however, take me very long to find
out that an ordinary threshing ma
chine is not the best tool to prepare
ray fancy natives for an exacting
market.
It is to he hoped that some inven
tor will furnish the ideifb for a cheap
and effective bean thresher that will
come within the reach of the Indi
vidual bean grower.—Farm,Field and
Fireside.
Horn Talk.
Don’t ask me to back with blinds
on. I am afraid to.
Don’t lend me to some block-head
that has less Bense than I have.
Don’t think because I am a horse
that iron weeds and briars won’t
hurt my hay.
Don’t be so careless of my harness as
to find a great sore on me before you
attend to it
Don’t run mo down a steep hill, for
if anything should give way I might
break your neck.
Don’t put my blind bridle so that it
irritates my eye or so leave my fore
lock that it will be in my eyes.
Don’t think because I go free under
the whip I don’t get tired. You
would move up if under the whip.
Don t whip me when I get fright*
ened along the road or I will expect
it next time and maybe make trouble,
Don’t hitch me to an Iron post or
railing when the meroury is below
freezing. I need the skin on my
tongue.
Don’t keep my stable very dark,
for when I go into the light my eyes
are injured, especially if snow is on
the ground.
Don’t forget the old Book that is
a friend of all the oppressed, that
says: ‘‘The righteous man is merci
ful to his beast.”
Don’t make me drink ice cold
water or put a frosty bit in my mouth.
Warm the bit by holding a half min
ute against my body.
Don’t compel me to eat more ult
than I want by mixing it with my
oats. I know better than any other
animal how much I need.
Don’t forget to file my teeth when
they are gagged and I cannot chew
my food. When I get lean it is a
sign my teeth want filing.
Don’t trot me up hill, for I have
to carry you and the buggy and my
self too. Try it yourself sometime.
Run up hill with a big load.
Don't leave me hitched in my stall
all night with a big cob right where
1 must lie down. I am tired and
cannot select a smooth place.
Don’t say whoa unless you mean
it. Teach me to stop at the word.
It may check me if the lines break,
and save a runaway and smashup.
Ponltr? Pick lues.
Save the best birds for breeding.
In winter cover the windows of the
poultry house at night with batting
or shutters.
If a hen only pays seventy-five
cents profit annually, she is paying a
big per cent
The temperature of the poultry
house in winter should never be be
low 40 degrees.
liens will not lay unless they have
a full supply of water: Water is as
necessary as food.
Whenever a farmer can get hold of
oyster shells he should take them
home for the hens.
II you want to fatten, feed corn
and other fat producers. If eggs are
wanted give egg producing feed.
It is ail right to have a good breed,
but without good care in the way of
feeding and warm quarters fowls will
bekept at a loss.
Certain markings are necessary for
exhibition, but for practical purposes
a good hen is a good hen whatever
her markings are.
Remember that laying hens will be
kept more profitably through the
winter if fed wheat and some meat
Winter eggs are profitable.
French poultry raisers cook the
grain that is fed to fattening fowls,
but some poultrymen claim that
there is no advantage in doing It
Household Helps.
For an Ingrowing toe or finger
nail cut a V or notch in the center of
the nail, and it will grow toward the
center and relieve the corner.
A goblet of hot water taken just af
ter rising, before breakfast, has cured
thousands of indigestion, and no
simple remedy is more widely rec
ommended to dyspeptics.
No matter how large the spot of
oil, any carpet or woollen stuff can
be cleaned by applying buckwheat
plentifully and faithfully, brushing
it into a dustpan after a short time,
and putting on fresh until the oil has
disappeared.
Broken china may be mended by
making a light paste on the white of
an egg, and flour, cleaning the broken
edges from dust, spreading them
with the paste and holding the parts
together while wet, wiping off all
that cozes out It must b3 held or
fastened in position until dry.
For dark colored garments make
the starch'of coffee dr make hay tea
to wash them in. When the color of
' red or pink garments is doubtful
soak thorn two .hours in salt water
before washing, and blue ones in
water to which a tablespoonful of
i sugar of lead has been aided. Al
) ways iron colored garments os the
‘ wrong uide as far as possible.
THE TRAVELING TRAMP
RAILROAD PETE HAS LUCK
WHEN ON THE ROAD.
Accidents Hid no Terror for nim_Re
Doold briii end Hear Anything That
Turned Up—Had Come Oat of ■ Doran
rninih-L'ps Without a terateb. ■
“Yes, a tramp is killed in a rail
road accident now and then,” said
the freight conductor, “but it may
bo set down as an act of Providence.
In other words, it is the tramp who
seems to have nineteen chance* out
of twenty of coming off without a
scratch.”
“iou carry a good many on the
deadhead list, I suppose?” queried
the Detroit Free Press man.
••I don’t suppose that a freight
train enters or leaves Detroit which
hasn’t from two to ten tramp passen
gers on the bumpers,” he replied.
“The last thing before pulling out,
we go along the train and drive them
off, but they are back in place again
before the train is under way. Mow
and then -I’ve had a tramp killed on
my train, but he was a second-class
tramp and new to the railroad busi
ness. There are two species of him,
as you probably know—the railroad
tramp and the highway tramp.”
“No, I didn’t know that”
“Well, it’s so, and the railroad
tramp feels himself head and shoul
ders above the other; one rides in his
carriage, so to say, while the other
sloshes through mud or dust Wo
were speaking, however, of tramps
being killed on the road. A week
ago I saw by the papers that a well
known tramp called •Railroad Pete’
had been killed down near Dayton.
I didn’t believe it, ai.d it wasn’t an
hour ago that I met him down in the
yards looking for a Chicago freight”
“Did you ever carry him on any
of your runs?”
••Did I? Well, I should whistle for
a cow on the track! I’ll bet money
Pete has traveled 25,00) miles on my
trains, and I’ll bet more money that
he goes out with me.to-night He is a
case in point. He’s been in at least a
dozen smash-ups and never got a
scratch. Five years ago, when I first
met him, we struck a farmer’s team
at a crossing and had fourteen cars
piled into the ditch. About the last
thing the wrecking crew came to as
they cleared away the debris was
Railroad Pete, but he didn’t even
have his nose skinned where four of
my crew were killed. ' Six months
later my train went through a bridge
and two men were killed and eight
cars smashed to kindling wood.
Pete was down at the bottom, as
usual, and I believe he got his foot
hurt that time. Do you remember
the big accident down near Monroe
ville two years agoP”
“I believe there was one.”
“You can be sure there was! I
was running a train of forty-two
cars, half of them *empties,’ when
the engine struck a car which had
rolled on to the main track from a
siding. That was what you might
call a jim dandy accident Twenty
nine cars left the track and the kind
ling wood was piled thirty feet high.
The engineer was killed outright, the
fireman fatally injured and three of
my brakemen never knew what hurt
’em. I got off light, but it was three
months in the hospital. Railroad
Pete was right in the center of that
wreck, and it was eighteen hours be
fore they got him out He hadn’t
even a bruise oe him!”
••But he can’t always escape.”
-••I dunno about that. I know of
his haying been thrown off a train
twice and landing right side up.
Two or three times he has jumped off
at Stations where he didn’t stop,
and mf ter knocking down fences and
uprooting trees, has escaned even a
Dusted suspender. One night, down
near Toledo, he got to fighting with
another tramp on the roof of a car
and was knocked off by a bridge.
The other man was run over and cut
into strings, while Pete landed in a
snow-bank and reached town only
forty minutes behind schedule time.
Down here at Trenton one night
about a year ago he was manoeuv
ring around to get a ride on my
train when the express picked him
up. Say, if he wasn't thrown twenty
feet high and a hundred feet out
into a garden you may call me a
liar!”
“And he wasn't killed?”
“Killed! Why, when half a dozen
men went after his body they
couldn't find it! As soon as he
struck be jumped up and made a
half circle to strike my train and get
a front seat I believe he com
plained that one of his kneeQ was a
bit stiff for a week or so, but that
was all. Kill old Railroad Pete! It
might be done with a gun or axe,
but he can't be gathered to his fath
ers by any sort of railroad accident
we know anything about in thia
country.”
A Sacrtfto*.
Mr. Sourly—I’m going to hare my
pictures taken to-day.
Mr. Sourly’s Wife—You will have
to make a great sacrifice if you da
Mr. S—Why?
Mr. S.’s W.—You’ll have to look
pleasant for a moment or twa -
Educational Item*
Teacher—You were not at sohool
yesterday.
Tommy—No, my father needed me
at home.
Teacher—Why ?
Tommy—To give me a licking._
Texas Siftings.
Chinese Ulrtliddys.
In computing the age the Chinese
always reckon back two years from
the celebration of the first birthday,
i or, in other words, as though the
, person had been a year old at the
I time of birth.
Which Wcy ► Mould This Xam, _
Boaind. ^
Antiquaries or philologists »„
nearly all parte of England h m
favored the papers with . "*v®
respiting "Srt
nunciation of the name ••itatph » Pr°T
they appear to he equallv™. nd
tioned for “Ralf.” »Ba«” end iPn°por'
according, to local proclivltiL K r®'”
tom and literature are eaua!k.Cu8'
certain. Writing from y nn‘
Ralph Rectory.
G Launder gives an intero.*
account of what may be re^ l'ng
the evolution of tlmword S *ed **
■“>V » ioMrom many
readers to know of its spelling
register of the parish of Bromotn
Ralph, and of the pronuncdaH?
given by the inhabitants. The
register dates from 1557,and iscaiw
the register of tho.«—i.i. lcaUcd
the register of the parish of
ton Raffe.’ There is no change £
the spelling, as far as I can tracft!
l6o2, when ‘Half’ displaces .gaffe
In 1665, and from then to 1716 I «„
Ralfe.’ In 1717 a new register
begun with the word as we now ha*
it,‘Ralph.1 The younger generation
pronounce the debated word ,
though it ought to rhyme *ith ‘chaff
The very oldest inhabitants use th
pronunciation which rhymes wi‘
Ralph.
"It is ourious to notice, howevei
when a child is baptized ‘Ralph ’ a
ter the name of the parish (case
have occurred within the w
years), the parents invariably eivn
‘Ralph’ the ‘safe’ Bound. ” 8
•Hudibras" affords another ex
ample of variety of pronunciation
Butleu says Of the doughty knight
that “
A'Sqptre he had, whose nime was Ralnh
1 hat In th adventure went his halt p '
Though writers, for more toae, •
Do call him Ralp.io. ’tla all one:
And when we can with meter safe
We'll call him so, if not plain llaiph.
From all which the conclusion ol
the matter would appear to be that
it is wrong to be dogmatic one way
or the other, and that each man may
pronounce “Ralph” as it may sound
go od to his ears.
A Dry Geyser.
There is a hole in Yellowstone
park supposed to be a “dry geyser,’’
which is believed to be “bottomless.”
Three thousand feet of line, with
weight attached, has been let down
into it without meeting with obstruc
tion.
Cost of Milk* Varies.
The New Hampshire experiment
farm finds that milk from the best
■cows costs one and a half cents a
' quart; from their poorest, four and a
half cents, as it costs just as much
to feed the smaller producer.
SORTED AND SELECTED.
| The, most disastrous flood was that
of Holland, 1520; 400,000 persons
drowned.
An opal, weighing 000 karats, in the
possession of Edward H. Fleming of
Opalville, Idaho, is claimed to be the
largest of its species in the world.
A West Virginia man has become
insane on the subject of the Ferris
wheel. He rode on the wheel and on
his return home endeavored to make
one on a similar plan.
Gorham Abbott of Winsted, Conn.,
has surprised his friends by beginning
to talk after being dumb for thirty
years. He was made deaf and dumb
by an attack of scarlet fever in his
yonth.
After two years’ trial with pine, oak
and greenhearp in the Sues canal
works it has been found that while
pine and oak are destroyed by the
borer worm the greenheart, which
comes from British Guiana, was un
harmed.
Miss Anna Gies, a (fed 10 years, has
brought auit against her father in a
New York court for $10,000. She says
that she has been his housekeeper for
nearly twenty years past,, and that he
owes her at least the amount she has
sued for.
Hans Schliessmann, a Vienna carica
turist, has been sending letters to his
friends inscribed with “Mr.” and a
sketch of the. person intended, and a
designation of the quarter of the town
in which he lives They have all
reached their destination.
The Chinese are the most expert
smugglers iirthe world. Contraband
opium has been found in their queues,
the soles of their sandals, in loaves of
bread, and even in bananas on the
stalk, defying the closest scrutiny.
Some of their shrewdest schemes are
discovered by accident only.
The idea that chess was invented by
the ancient Indians or by the Chinese
is shaken by the discovery at Sakkara.
in Egypl, of a wall painting showing
two chess players belonging to the
government of King Teta of the sixth
dynasty. Professor Brngsob put
at 3,300 B. C., or 5,300 years ago.
A young couple are getting married.
Suddenly some absurd idea enters the
head of the bridegroom and he bursts
out laughing. Thereupon the o
priest who ip officiating pauses a nW‘
ment and says gravely: “Donotlaug
my son. You will have little °fcasl“
for mirth in the state into which y
are now entering. ”
Admiral Avelan of the Russian
navy encountered while he was an e
sign an officer who for some gra
offense had been degraded from a cap"
taincy to the post of common sai o .
and who despaired of ever finding
opportunity to exhibit the gallan 7
that alone would restore his ra
The ensign secretly arranged "'
him to fall overboard and be savec
the man. and the plan was carrie
on the first rough weather tha
curred. The man was so indifferent
swimmer that he would have drow
had not the young ensign been an
usually good one, but the desire
was sco a red.