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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 9, 1896)
/)- ' CHAPTER!. OREAT storm toad raged with una bated fury for three days, but now at the shutting down of twilight the clouds were break ing. and toward the sunset there gleamed a single spark of blood-red ..n light low down upon the western mountains. The wind had changed from the east, and the breeze that fanned the boyish brow of Ralph Trenholme as he paced back and forth over the shingly shore, was like the breath of early June. And it was the last of October. The nea was still high, tossing in at intervals remnants of the lll#tarred ship that had gone to pieces on Joliet Rock, Just outride the hartor’jnibvrth of Portlea. Hoej uitxloua had been the hearts on shore tiff that wretched ship! How earnestly they had watched it since early dawn, when It had appeared in the offing—driven about helpless, at the mercy of the winds and waters, and at last dashed upon the cruel rocks. Thoy had devised iVainly among themselves, those harflg fishermen, wnyS and means to save the vessel from her fate. The prouckralstress of Trenholme House— bet^eunown as High Rock—had come out Into the storm, as pale and anxious at the ruffist fisherman's wife among them—come out to beg them to do all thabhAmrfh'arm could do; to ofTer them golf'll they could save hut one poor life4, and, those brave, courageous men had looked at her, and at oach other, sorrowfully and In silence; they knew by stern experience that no boat oould live an honr In a sea like that. And so the ship was left to go down unaided. But Ralph Trenholme could not bo quiet. With the daring Impulsiveness Of a boy of fourteen, he bad thrice launched the Sea Foam, bis own little boat, to gp to the aid of the sufferers, but as uby times had the men of the coast forced him back. They would not stand by and see him go to death for nought. Ralph fought against them bfavely, but was obliged to yield, and restless, and chafing at his Inac tivity, which seemed to him almost cowardly, he- paced the shore, and jooaecr out 10 sea. There camrf a great wave. He watched It rising afar off, and aaw that it bore upon Its crdit something whiter than even the toafli. He darted down to the water line, and stood there when it came so near that It drenched him through, but he caught the precious freight it bore in his arms, and by the wan light he looked into the face of a little child—a girl—perhaps six or seven years old, with pure features, stilled ", Into calm repose, and long, curling locks ■ of gold, floating dripping down, and tangled with seaweed. She waa dressed In white, and around her waist was a scarf of blue tissue, but the other end a; was lost, torn away, probably, from the support to which she had been bound bysome ohe who had cared to save her. ttalph gathered her up with something Uluttriumph swelling his heart. If ag she were only alive he might have the " satisfaction of knowing that he had ' saved a life, for it she had been dashed in upon ' the shore, the sharp rocks :f; would have crushed out from that beau 'll titu! face every semblance of humanity. ,/ He puts his lips down to hers. There -s “was a faint warmth. He ran up the steep path leading to High Rock, bear - Ing his treasure in his arms, and in to ... his mother, who was sitting before the ' great fird that streamed redly up the chimney. \ a “See what the sea has given me!” he cried, putting her down on the sofa. “A ;fT real little sea nymph! and as beautiful as an angel!’* "Softly,Tmy son,” said Mrs. Tren holme, with mild dignity. “Run for Dr. Hudson—perhaps she can be re storea. \ ■ Ralph was off Instantly, but when he returned with the doctor, the little girl did net heed his aid; she was sitting up, and looking around her with great, wondering eyes, and a flush of scarlet •M either cheek. But when they ques> “Jjoned her, she conld give no satisfac tory reply. She put her hand to her m ahead, in a confused sort of way, and gpid she could not remember. All knowledge of the past was blotted out. It was as, It it had never been. She had forgotten her own name. She did ,not even remember that she had been ,.ea shipboard, and when they asked her a*mfcb5r parents, she looked at them Mrswh'a dazed sort of a. way that Mrs. ■yfreaholtai saw at once It was useless 'to&preas'tne matter. The severe shock ' her Mhvoas system had received from , r|psalning so long in the water had brought total oblivion of the past. ™rj*«r clothing was fine and costly, but •^fherc were no trinkets by which any slug to her parentage Could be obtained. The only thing that might serve to identify her was a minute scarlet cross, just below the shoulder, on her arm— feMtWVv.v >5-’ .. I a mark that had evidently been pricked Into her skin with some indelible sub stance. After a few weeks the wonder and curiosity which this sole survivor of the wreck had excited died away, and Mrs. Trenholme, yielding to the earn est solicitations of Ralph, decided to adopt her, and rear her as her own. The child was christened Marina, which means from the sea, and turned over to the care of Kate Lane, the nurse, who still had the charge of Agnes, Mrs. Trenholme’s little six years' old daugh ter. Marina was a beautiful child—you would seldom see a beauty so faultless as hers. Every day developed some new charm. Her golden hair grew more golden, her eyes bluer aud deeper, and her smile rarer and sweeter. Oc casionally, sho would break out into snatches of song — old melodies — strange to all who listened, something sho must have learned in other lands, and beneath sunnier skies. The waif had found a good homo, all the neighborhood said. So she had. High Rock was the manor house of the vicinity, the Trenholmes the wealthiest old family In that part of the state. ’The lands belonging to the estate were v/lde and fertile, the old house was a romance in Itself, albeit a mo3t stately one. It was built far out on a great peak, closely overhanging the sea—a' massive structure of gray stone, with towers and gable windowa, and wide piazzas. Mr. rrenholme had held many offices of public trust, and as a man and a scholar had Btood very high. He had .died suddenly, two years before the opening of our story. Mrs. Trenholme had truly and tenderly loved her hus band. and natures like hers never for get. Her best consolation she found in the affection she'bore her children; and Ralph and Agnes were worthy of all the love she gave them. With very little of their mother’s haughty pride, they bad inherited all her beauty and gentleness, while to Ralph, along with his father’s fine intellect, had descended his earnest heart, his strong affections, and his almost chivalrous sense of hon or. Ralph was eight years older than Agnes. At fourteen he was a tall, hand some boy, with a dark, clear com i plexlon, brown eyes, and curling chest nut hair. Agnes was of the less Intense type, with delicately cut features, dark hazel eyes, a pale complexion, and a flush of scarlet on her sweet lips. These were the children with whom little Marina was thrown. They grew up together. The girls loved each other like sisters; indeed, there was little chance for them to know the difference. The children had but few playmates. The neighborhood was not very select, and Mrs.Trenholme was very particular. Lynde Graham, the only child of a poor fisherman that dwelt at the foot of the Rock, was with them most frequently. The proudest mother in the land would have no objection to Lynde Graham as a playmate for her children. He was about Ralph’s age. a darling, noble aouled boy. And sometimes from Ireton Lodge— the stately residence of Judge Ireton— came Imogcne, his daughtor, to pay little visits to the Trenholmes. Some day Imogene Ireton would make hearts ache; some day she would be absolutely magnificent in her beauty. Even now she was queenly. Hor complexion was like the creamy petals of a lily; her hair and eyes were black as ulght, and at times her cheeks flushed like car nations. and her voice rang out like the music of silver bells. Her whole bearing waa llko that of one who knows she was born for conquest. She was haughty, arrogant and selfish. At sixteen, Ralph Trenholme left home for college. He remained there four years, returning home only for a week or two at vacation time, and then not always seeing Marina and Agnes, who were at a boarding school for young misses. After his graduation, he made the European tour, and four years elapsed before, bronzed and bearded, be again set foot upon his native land. Meanwhile, Lynde Graham had fought a hard battle and come off | conqueror. Men with eyes like his I seldom fall to accomplish what they I undertake with their whole souls. He | had fitted htmaelf for college, taught | to gain the money requisite to defray ! hla expenses, and just as Ralph arrived home, Lynde Graham had come back to the fisher’s cottage, with the diploma from Harvard in his pocket. He had graduated with the very highest hon ors, and at once began studying medi cine with Dr. Hudson, of Portlea. CHAPTER II. ELL, my son. what do you think o( your gift from the sea?” said Mrs. Trenho'.me.one day. e few weeks after her son’s return. He was lying on a lounge drawn up before a south>-u window, where the late October sun poured In its gold, his head ly ing in her lap, her white fingers hidden among hl3 chestnut curls. He ! looked up into her eyes, took her hand, and pressed it slowly to his lips. "I think, dear mother, that she Is the ruuHt beautiful being I over saw. I have seen the brunettes of Italy, the fair-faced women of Circassia, the languid Spaniards, with their eyes of fire, and the oriental seraphs of the Turk’s harem, but none like Marina.” Something like a shadow fell over the face of Mrs. Trenholme. He felt the change in her voice, slight though it was. “Yes," she said, "Marina is beautiful. I It were a pity that, she has no family no name, even, save what we have given her. Her parentage must ever. I suppose, remain a secret. Indeed, my son, I blush sometimes to think of it, but perhaps she was the offspring of shame, and thus abandoned. You will remember, perhaps, that no female bodies were ever washed up from the wreck of the vessel. And it is not cus tomary for children like her to bo put on shipboard without a woman’s care." An angry flush rose to Ralph’s check. He sprang up quickly. “Never, mother! you wrong her! I would stake my life that Marina is nobly born. We may never. In all probability' we never shall, know tho secret of her birth, but if we do, mark me, we shall find her fully our equal!" Mrs. Trenholme smiied at his earnest ness, as she replied: "To change the conversation, Imo gene Ireton is coming here tomorrow, for a visit of indefinite length. I think Imogens will surprise you. You have not seen her since you left home, I think?” I have not, but I have no doubt she has developed wonderfully. Imogene was always magnificent!” “And now she has no peer. I have never seen one who would compare with her. But tomorrow you shall judge for yourself.” The conversation closed, and Ralph thought no more of it, until Imogene Iretoa burst upon him. He was amazed. He had expected to see a very beautiful woman, but, instead, he touched the hand of a princess. Three years older than Marina, at nineteen she was fully developed, with a form that would have driven a sculptor mad with ambition to rival it. Sho was rather tall, with that graceful, high-bred ease of man ner that came to her so naturally, and the voice that in her young girlhood had been so sweet, wa3 now a breath of musical Intoxication. Her complexion was still rarely clear, the cheeks a little flushed, tho mouth a line of scarlet, the hair dark and lustrously splendid, and the eyes!—such eyes are never seen twice in the world at tho same time. Ralph gazed into their depths, with a strange feeling of bewilderment. She fascinated him powerfully, and yet he felt a sort of coldness creeping round his heart—an almost Incipient shudder shook him, as her soft hand fell like a snowflake into his. In the dally Intercourse which fol lowed, the feeling somewhat wore away, and though Miss Ircton, at the end of a fortnight, had not succeeded In cap turing the heir of Trenholme, It must be admitted that she had Interested him. Toward Lyndc Graham, who was at the Rock almost daily, sho was cold and reserved; she never forgot the dis tance between Judge Ireton's heiress and the son of a poor fisherman. And yet, despite her coldness, which at times was almost scorn, before she re turned homo Lynde Graham had learned to love her. Ho kept his un fortunate secret to himself; he felt that it would cause him nothing but pain and sorrow, should it escape him by word or deed. The winter passed quietly. There was an occasional pleasure party, but they were by no means frequent, and It was not until summer came that the real round of pleasuring, which was des tined to break the calm of the Rock for the season, began. (TO DB CONTIXUSD.I TH3 WATCH ADJUSTER. Ha In n Man Whmii D.<Kmte Work Hr* quire* Iairge Ksperienre and Mach Skill. Perhaps the most highly shilled and best paid men In the watchmaking business are the watch adjusters. One adjuster in a great factory used to re ceive $10,000 a year. The adjuster's work is one of the important elements : of cost in the making of a fine watch, and a $10,000 adjustor should be com petent to perfect any watch,whatever its delicacy and cost. It is the business of the adjuster to take a new wafeh and carefully go over all its parts, fitting them together so that the watch may be regulated to keep time accurately to the fraction of a minute a month. Reg ulating is a very iifterent process from adjusting and mu ih simpler. A watch that cannot be regulated so as to keep accurate time may need the hand of the adjuster, and it it Is valuable the owner will be advised to have it adjusted. There are watch adjusters in New York working on their own account and earning very comfortable incomes. To the adjuster every watch that comes under his hands gets to have a character of its own. He knows every wheel and screw and spindle that help to constitute the watch. He knows its constitution as a physician knows that of an old pa tient. He can say what the watch needs after an accident, and can advise as to whether it is worth adjusting. No new watch can be depended upon until it has passed through the hands of the adjuster, for however admirable the in dividual parts of the works, their per fect balance is to be obtained only by such study and experiment as it is the business of the adjuster to make. The adjuster is a highly-skilled mechanic, with wide knowledge of his business, and the utmost deftness in its prosecu tion. Above Mannheim the Rhine is to be made navigable as far as Slrasburg. As F. canal will be inadequate, import ant changes must bo made in the rh er bed. i DAIRY AND POULTRY. I ■ INTERESTING CHAPTERS FOR j OUR RURAL READERS. I —*— Bow Successful Farmer* Operate This Department of the Farm—A Few Hint* aa to the Caro of Lira Stock and Poultry. i - E HEAR THE RE mdrks ao often that they have become common, “There is no money in farm ing. There is no money in dairying.” The men who give vent to these decla rations usually speak from person al experience; they j find no money there. As a matter of | fact, however, not all dairymen make these complaints, else we might be in clined to believe that the majority were right. A New York farmer and dairy man told me that the net receipts from his place of 150 acres did not average over J250 per year. Very true, and 1 know of plenty more whose net yearly receipts do not average nearly that sum. There are others who have less to show than their hired help, after the latter have been paid their monthly wages. Dairying as a business is not wholly to blame for this, neither are the dairymen themselves.. The class who made money must necessarily be on a better track than those who didn’t, but yet the entries are free and open to all alike. No thoughtful man who milks cows can disregard these facts. If you attend the institutes this com ing winter they will there be presented to you In much more forcible shape than I can do it, and I trust with fruit ful results. It one does not possess enough roots for all winter feeding, 1 think they can be fed to better ad vantage after New Year’s than before. Cows have not yet lost the effect of green pasturage as they will by Feb ruary, ‘and then succulent roots (not withered by storing in hot cellars) will prove decidedly beneficial. From per sonal experience with root feeding to cows covering several winters I am impressed with their value. The best results are obtained where they are fed conservatively and as an adjunct to dry fodder. I have never had any trouble with turnip flavor in milk, complained of by some, and have only seen it where such roots were fed in large quanti ties. It quickly becomes apparent then. It is a grave mistake to feed these or any other roots with dirt clinging to them. While trimming off the small, fine roots at the bottom of the turnip or best will take most of the dirt, they need washing before feeding. Like ap ples, roots keep best at a low tempera ture, which is best met by storage in a properly constructed cave cellar.— George E. Newell, in Am. Cultivator. Cost of Keeping a Dairy. , The following is an extract of an article from the Agricultural Student of the Ohio State University: The following is a summary of the receipts and expenditures of the Uni versity dairy for the"year ending Dec. 31, 1894: Pounds of milk produced.160,534 Receipts for milk....J3.842.75 Cost of food. 983.76 Cost of labor. 1,595.44 Total expenditures. 2,579.20 Net gain. 1,333.55 There was an average of about twen ty-six cows actually in milk in the dairy during the year. As cows are ibought and sold, not the same twenty six cows were in the herd throughout [the year. There are generally, also, three or four dry cows in the herd. From the summary it will be seen [that for the number of cows actually in milk, 6,175 pounds of milk were given per cow. The cost of food per cow was $37.83, and the cost for labor was $61.36, making a total expense per cow in milk nearly $100. The labor, however, included a considerable amount of experimental work and also the labor of taking care of dry cows, heifers, calves and bulls. It also in cludes the cost of retailing the milk. .The cost for feed only relates to the cows In milk. ; Assuming 8.6 pounds per gallon of milk, the cost of food per gallon of milk is 5.2 cents, the cost of labor per gallon of milk, 8.5 cents, while the average price recelved-for milk on this basis was 20.5 cents. It will be seen that the average cost of a gallon of milk retailed to customers was 13.7 cents. The real cost, however, is somewhat greater than this, because .more than 8.6 pounds are required for a gallon of milk when peddled to the consumers. | It is worthy of notice that the work was all done by students, for which, it will be seen, they received $1,595.44. ,The gross income from each cow ac tually in milk was $147.80, the expense $99.19, leaving a net income per cow of $48.61, or for herd of twenty-six cows a net gain of $1,333.55. Thomas F. Hunt Market Poultry. ; Market poultry experts, says the Poul try Monthly, generally agree that the most profitable way of conducting the business is to combine egg farming with broiler raising. In this way a regular income can be maintained the entire year. But Just how the combi nation should be conducted all do not | agree. Some say make egg farming the prime | object, and only hatch broilers when | there Is no sale for eggs. We cannot ! exactly understand the logic, as there j is constantly, every day in the year, a ! call for this article and the supply does ! not equal the demand. It must be that 1 the writer has refbrence to the retail ' trade. ; In some sections of the country eggs take a decided drop as soon as spring opens, while in other sections prices re I main good until summer. Where con tracts arc made at a certain figure for the entire year, of course, It becomes an* other matter. To our liking, wo should say, sell eggs as long as prices are good and turn them into broilers when prices decline. We should sell them so long as the retail figure did not get below twenty cents a dozen and begin incu bation when that price was reached. We believe that it will pay better to turn eggs into carcasses than to sell at less than twenty cents a dozen. . Some writers claim Hint to produce an egg costs one cent. This would make their cost twelve cents a dozen and anything over that would be clear profit. They will sell eggs as long as they can get eighteen cents or over that. At eighteen cents they have fifty per cent profit and they are content with that. Supposing that a dozen eggs cost twelve cents and out of that dozen only four chicks were raised up to a marketable weight, and the total cost, including price of eggs, would be $1 for those four broilers, and they brought $i a pair, the usual price in New York market, there would be even $1 profit. Of course, in some sec* tions of the country broilers would not bring $1 a pair, but then generally In such localities feed is cheaper, which would equalize it, and besides, we have given a very low percentage of hatch ing and rearing. There is money In the broiler busi ness, but it is a branch that must be entered carefully, managed diligent ly and perfectly understood, if suc cess is the result. No amateur should start this branch on a large scale. He should begin at the very bottom of the ladder and climb up. There is so much to know. First, how to run the incubator so that it will re quire less responsibility and do best work; second, how to brood the chicks so that they will not become chilled and die from bowel trouble; third, how to feed so that they will attain the de sired weight without being subject to leg weakness and other troubles. All these matters must be carefully stud ied and watched. There is a big respon sibility and the work requires "eternal vigilance.” j Egg farming is the easiest branch to follow. Start with that and leave the broiler department to be an adjunct . I Various Foods. Cheapness in grain is generally at the expense of quality. Wholesome food is as essential to the good health of the flock as it is to human beings. Never have food of any kind around after the flock have been fed. Keep the flock with good appetites. It is safer to see the hens come for their, food quickly and partake of it with a relish than to see them indifferent about it. One is a sign of good health, the other indicates the indifferent specimen is out of condi tion. Green food of some nature is necessary for egg production in winter. Cabbages, turnips and other vegetables can be secured for the purpose. If the flock can have access to a field of grow ing rye or crimson clover In winter they will find the proper requirements. When fattening fowls for market corn can be used in various forms. Made < into mush and fed when cold is a good | form. Mixing corn meal with scalding water and boiled corn and the whole grain are all used for the purpose of | speedily fattening fowls. Boiled wheat j is also good to feed with the corn. Cel ery tops are the best green food to ! give fowls when fattening them.—Bal timore Sun. Aim In Hen Feeding* The aim in feeding laying hens, to induce continued egg production, j should be to furnish as great a variety ! of food as possible, and when .the sea son will not permit the hens to secure plenty of Insect food, green-cut raw bone should be given, as it is properly recognized as the missing link in egg production in winter. Char a cob of corn in the oven occasionally, and let the flock have it. Crushed oyster shells or sharp gravel Aould always be ac cessible to the hens. Water is a great essential. All the foods named can be given to growing chickens, and in addi tion cracked corn. Chicks will require more liberal feeding and oftener than fowls, as they are making flesh, muscle, bone and feathers at the same time, thus requiring a good supply of varied and nourishing diet. Wheat screen ings may supply bulk, but a very little nourishment. The man who depends on > such feed for a flock won’t have a flock very long to feed. Damaged grain of any kind should never be fed to the poultry.-*—Ex. _ Filled Cheese In. the South—A New Tork commission man says: “The whole South is fed on filled cheese now, excepting those people who know what pure cheese Is. The Southern popula tion always ate more cheese and less meat than we do, and we used to sell great quantities of cheese in the South. Where I used to sell large orders reg ularly I now sell a few boxes at long Intervals. Instead of pure cheese Southern store keepers are now selling filled cheese, except to those* customers who insist upon having the pure arti cle. I sell to one man just enough cheese to supply his fine trade. The.rest of his stock is filled cheese from the Cook county people. To another I sell a box now and then for his own use only. He buys the filled cheese wholly , for his stock, but he won’t oat it, and he gets the cheese for his table here in New Yor^, where he used to get all of his stock. The grocers down there know what they are buying, but their customers in the greater number do not know what they are getting.”—Ex. Science or Not?—It is true that in many cases farmers make the most of their money on hogs, but more often is it that they do not get the most possi ble good out. of their business. They have a slack way of feeding out corn to them which spoils the profit. Feeding for bone, size, muscle, substance and quality is a science. After the “blood” is procured so much depends upon feed and care.—Ex. FERRIED ON A POLE. Kovel Feat Performed br aa Aged Lum berman la Maine. I Although John Cusack, exlumberman . of Moose island, in Morc-hetid lake, | Maine, is now 65 years of age, he has ; not lost his dexterity in executing some | of the difficult feats in log walking that | made his name famous on the west j branch of the Penobscot for many j years, says the New York Sun. He recently made a bet with Sam Sanford, the liveryman, that he would that af ternoon cross the Piscataquis river with no other support than a stick so small 1 that, rested upon his wrist, he could held it out at arms’ length. The word quickly passed abont the village of what was about to be attempted, and at 4 o’clock the hour set for the trial, the banks of the river above the mill dam were lined with spectators. Mr. Cusack appeared on time, carrying a long pike pole, which was to serve him as balanc ing pole and propeller, and a bundle containing a checked gingham shirt and drilling overalls, his substitute for pro fessionable tights. Attired in his per forming costume and in his stocking feet, Mr. Cusack launched his stick, pushing it out to deep water, and with a quick spring landed on it at a point about six feet from the butt, where he perched as securely as a rope walker upon a tight rope. The end of the stick upon which he rested sank beneath his weight until the water was breast high to him, while the forward and smaller end rose from the water, pointing like a finger mark to the opposite shore. Using the pikepole, held by both hands in the middle a3 a double oar, the old man, with a forward motion, scooped himself along at no small rate toward the further bank, while two men fol lowed in a boat ready to rescue him in case of mischance. There was no oc casion for their services ir. his behalf. The distance was two hundred yards, but he did not slacken stroke as he churned along, his head and shoulders rising and falling above the chill black waters with his swift strokes, while he varied the monotony of the exercise by an occasional whoop or shouted com pliment to the ladies among the specta tors upon the opposite shore. He crossed the river in five minutes and landed, fresh and smiling, amid the ap plause and congratulations of the peo ple gathered there. After his return to the hotel he refused all stimulants ex cept a comforting bowl of ginger tea pressed upon him by the landlord, and has since shown no ill effect whatever from his recent exertion and the severe exposure he Underwent. He has offered to repeat the performance this week on a similar wager. 't SCENES IN HYDE PARK. Shows Are Given on the Public Pleasure Ground That Are In Bad Form. ^ It appears that the condition of Hydl Park, in London, is disgraceful, as de-'l, tailed by a correspondent in the London Times, as follows: “It has come to be a thing tacitly acquiesced In that the broad graveled space in Hyde park op posite the Marble arch shall be dally given over to atheists, spouters of sedi tion, et hoc genus omne. For a long time past men have been in the habit of giving recitations and a sort of vul gar dramatic performance in the center of a huge circle of admiring loafers, protected and, apparently, patronized by the police. These men, often three in number, are provided with certain stage accessories in the shape of paint, red wigs, clowns’ dresses, and other tawdry things of the kind, while their vulgar sallies elicit roars of laughter and subsequently pecuniary contribu tions. This sort of thing being per mitted, I can conceive of no equitable reason why a nigger troupe, a German band, a set of jugglers, or any other class of street performers should not at once take possession of part of the va cant space and cater for’public favor. Many of them—‘Punch and Judy,’ for instance—would be infinitely less ob jectionable than the tatterdemalions who are now in possession." A Clever Prince**. The Princess Maud, whose engage ment to her cousin. Prince Carl of Den mark, has just been announced is the favorite child of the Prince of Wales. The prince speaks of her as “a good chap,” and in the family circle and to the intimate friends she is known as “Harrie.” The princess is quite a de termined young lady, as the following little story will show: Some two or three years ago the Wales girls were somewhat restricted a.s to dress allow ance, and Princess Maud grew so tired of a certain costume that wouldn’t wear out that one day she applied a match and the garment came to a brilliant if untimely end. Latterly the princesses have dressed well. The bride-elect af fects a certain "mannishness” of attire, wnd has been known to sport a single eyeglass with chic effect. The princess is three years older than her affianced husband. 1 Russian Despotism Is No More. Over 25,000 persons bave been set free from Russian prisons or have bad their sentences lightened by the action of the new czar’s proclamation »f last November, and many more will be dealt with as soon as their cases can be examined. “The agents of the Bible society have free passes on all crown railways in Russia, free carriage for their boxes of scriptures, free ingress to steamers, trains and schools,” says the correspondent of the New York Observer, and they are treated with urbanity and generosity by the high officials. The Rainiest Spot. The rainiest spot in the United States is at Nean Bay, Washington. The an nual rainfall there is 123 inches. • In New York city it is 45 inches.