CHAPTER XXII.-tContinued.)
MiM Hunter is most particular with re
gard to the appointments of her dressing
room, and as a nile ha her own maid to
attend her at the theater, and do every
thing she may require. But one day this
maid falls gick, and Miss Hunter is com
pelled to have recourse to one of the
dressers of the theater.
The latter is a young" woman of perhaps
live or six-and twenty, very poorly clad,
and with her bair (which is thickly streak
ed with gray) thrust hack under a black
bonnet of the fashion of several years
go. She is painfully thin, with a white
face and a hacking cough that tells of
consumption, or some other mischief to
the lungs. Susie takes quite an interest
in her. Her usual expression is mournful
in the extreme the look of a beaten dog
or a castaway: but as she meets the pity
ing eyes of the fairer and younger, and,
as she thir.ks. the more prosperous wom
an, the dresser frowns, aud turns hastily
away. It is evident that she is proud, and
disdains any commiseration of her im
poverished state.
"Have yon been a dresser long. Abby?"
Susie asks.
"Why do you ask me. Miss Lester':"
"Because laired dresses have not been
in fashion since I was grown up. 1 re
member them about the time I was four
teen, and how I teased an old aunt of
mine with whom I lived to let me have
one. She was horrified at the very idea,
and said girls would be wearing their
stays outside their dresses next, l'oor
old Auntie Susan!"
"l'ou were brought up by an aunt,
Miss Lester?" says the dresser interrog
atively. wYes," replies Susie: "but please make
baste. The overt-ire is nearly over."
She cannot understand why the dresser,
who appeared so silent in the presence
of Miss Hunter, should have any interest
in putting such a question to her. ami al
most feels as if she had betrayed a clew
to her identity.
Later they are alone in the dressing
room, Miss Hunter having an act of the
drama nearly to herself, and Susie feels
half nervous, wondering what is to come
next. What does come startles her mure
than anything that has gone before. Ab
by raises her head, with this remarkable
question:
"Were you ever in a cathedral town, j
Miss Lester"" i
Susie stares at her as if she had gone
demented. j
"What an extraordinary thing to ask j
mc. Abby! What on earth put it into ;
your head?"
"Yours is a face not easily forgotten,
and I fancy I have seen you before."
"I a msure you have not," replies Susie;
1 never set eyes upon you before this
evening."
She dresses and hastens homeward as
soon as the piece is concluded. As she
quickly traverses the still crowded pave
ment, she feels some one touch her arm,
and looking back, finds to her annoyance
that she is followed by the dresser.
' "What is it you want of me?" she de
mands. ' "Miss Lester. replies the woman, in a
flattered voice, "I took the liberty of fol
lowing you, to ask if I might accompany
yon home."
"Accompany me home! What for?"
echoes Susie.
"Only to see that you are not molested.
Too live in Sanchiehall street, do yon
not? And the thoroughfare is crowded
it this hour. I should feel so much more
asy if I saw yoa safe into the house."
"I cannot possibly understand," says
iusie, "why you should take this interest
a me. 1 have always been accustomed
o look after myself, and I do not wish to
nit myself under an obligation to a
trsnger."
' "Don't think I ain such a stranger to
on as yon imagine, Mis Lester," re
plies the dresser; "and I'm sure yon are
too kind to be offended if I ask you a
question. Did yon know any one of the
name of Prescott in Malisbury?"
"Why, that wan my name; at least, it
was my aunt's name," exclaims Susie,
taken off her guard. "And did you knpw
her. Abby'"
"No, Miss Lester, I am not aware that
I ever saw your aunt. Bnt I knew you."
"Too knew me?"
"Yea! As little Susie Prescott, I knew
yon well, aud I recognised yon the first
time I saw yon on the stage. Yon lirve
tb same eyes, tbe same slender figure,
the same curling chestnut hair. T could
not mistake your Identity, hot I am not
In the least surprised that you do not
know me again. The wonder wonld hare
bees If you had. Don't yon remember
Lena Anatey, tbe bishop's daughter.
"Of eourse I. do. She was my dearest
child friend, i hare never forgotten her,
m4 shall. Bnt what of her? Do
yo kaw Mle Anstey ? Can yon teli me
w bare at Is T"
"he la here, at yonr side," replies the
drsaair "Hosle, I am Lena Anstty!"
"What erlea Sua. "Whatr
CHAPTER XXIII. -They
tare ranked iota a quieter street
bar tbJa tttnw, aad aa tbe Incredible asaer-
i aer ear sac stops ami stand
be wafl. She can hardly
bar heart beats amlfMy.
llJft-Ca shabby In r Mag ereaturs ia a
iaak rTiaa awsas east a raoed bob net.
tha half ass of the bishop of
't 1y IsMatl wheat dreasea sad
f jrri to ht tha eavy of bar
l W tu never ap
pinafore tied up with riblions! The bish
op's daughter sunk down to be a dresser
in a theater! It is impossible! It can
not tie!
"You may well doubt it," says h-r com
panion, bitterly. "Look at my ''res.
Susie, it will hardly bold together, and
I have worn this bonnet for the last tuo
years. Do you reniemler what thick
black hair I had? It has almost all fallen
off, and what is left of it is gray. And
to come down to be a servant, at the h.- k
and call of a dozen women, who niUbt
have been proud at one time to scrv,.- me.
Oh, I am indeed fallen!"
She puts up her thin hands to her face
and the tears trickle slowly through her
fingers.
"And is there no one to suppoi you,
then, Lena?" demanda Susie, wixtfu'ly.
"No one. I have not a friend in the
world."
"Where is yoa will forgive my aski.ig
you the question, dear but where is the
bishop, your father?"
"He died six years ago, thank heaven!"
"But I thought you were an heiress,
Lena that yon had a lot of mon-y of
your own. Every one said so in Malis
bury." "I fancy they talked a great deal in
Malisbury of what they knew no'h'uig.
My father had no income but his stipend,
which died with him. I inherited a sum
of money at the death of my grandparents
in Italy, but when I married, it became
the property of my husband, and they
they wouldn't give it me back again."
"They! Who are they"" demands
Snsie.
"The law, my dear. When my father
died, I was sent to the care of my aunt,
his sister, who lived in Ixindon, and there
I met the man I married. Susie, in the
mnd, passionate way I loved the pnppy
whose brains I dashed out against the
wall, 1 loved him, and I was insanely,
absurdly jealous of him. Aud he resent
ed it, and then we came to quarreling. I
threw reproaches and hitter words at
him. tuitil 1 worried out his love for me,
and we became estranged. And I gnaw
ed my heart out nntil I had my revenge.
I sacrificed myself, in order to torture
hira. I threw away my whole happiness
to mar his."
"But why why. if yon loved him?"
"Don't ask mc, Susie. Don't sit thers
with your eyes wide oien. as if I bad
done something you could not under
stand. I ran away from my husband. I
left him, in my rage, for another man, and
I have never seen nor heard of him since.
Now, you know all."
"Kut your husband 7"
"Ue is not my husband." cries Lena,
wildly; "though I never, never can for
get that he had been so! Oh, Susie, he
was so good, so generous, so kind! 1 was
mad to leave him! I had everything that
money could procure while I waa with
him, and now now I have nothing, lie
has another wife by this time, and is
prosperous and happy, and never gives a
thought to me, as why should be, unless
it be to curse the day we met! Oh, I
know I feel he hates me. And I dream
of him all day long. I picture him happy
and loving with that other woman, and I
would like to dash between their kisses
and dig my nails into ber throat and bold
her down down until she died! Oh,
that I could strangle her with my own
hand! that I could strangle them both,
and know that they could never look into
each other's faces more!"
Lena's excitement has risen so terribly
with the occasion, and she is working
herself up into snch a frenzy, that Susie
becomes frightened and rises from her
chair.
"Don't speak like that, Lena," she says;
"it is very wrong, and you will make
yonrself ill. Try to think more calmly of
the past. dear, or don't think of it at all.
Talk of something else. Where is the
gentleman for whom you yon left your
husband? Surely it is his business to
support you now."
"Where is he?" repeats Lena, with a
sneer; "the coward! He is just where he
ought to be, broiling in the most un
healthy part of the Kast Indies, and I
hope he may die and rot there. He was
just the sort of cur that eats a man's
bread and steals his wife from him, and
leaves her to starve, or to walk the
streets, as chance may please. Some
times, when I am at my worst, I say I
cannot die till I have been revenged on
him. But the story is known far and
wide. He will find his best punishment
in the contempt of his fellow-creatures."
"You did not tell me the name of your
husband," says Susie, still hesitating.
"But I will. Why should I object to
tell his name? The whole country rang
'with the news of his disgrace and mine,
and I am not ashamed of my husband,
1 can tell you, although I am ashamed of
myself for having left him. His name
is Philip Luton Baron Luton of Luton
stowe. Ay! you may stare, bnt It is true!
and the man who took me from blm was
Cecil Knatchbull, curse him!"
As- the fatal import of these words fell
on Susie's ears, every morsel of color for
sakes her features, leaving her with
stony, stsring eyes, and a face as pallid
as that of a statue. She cannot move
nor speak, she feels as if she cannot
breathe. All she can do it to stand oppo
site to Lena, with horror and repugnance
depicted on every lineament of ber coun
tenance, and cold despair creeping through
her veins like a stream of fro sen water.
Her companion believes for the moment
that she is ill.
"What is the matter?" she exclaims;
"you frighten me. Did yon imagine I had
married a chimney sweep? What is there
so astonishing in the information that I
am Lord Luton's wife?"
Bnt here Susie recovers herself suffi
ciently to answer:
"It is a ller abe biases, through ber
clinched teeth; "yoa are not bis wife!
Lord Luton married me last September
la Cheltenham. I am Lady Lnton of
Lotoastowe." t , '
She draws herself ap to ber fall height
aa aha Balabes the sentence, sad regards
ber rival with aa ah? at once dtgntaed
and btfScMat Bat she to Itttle arete red.
far the effect ef ber words. Lean's eye
blase liquid fir. Into her white fare there
stresma a torrent of blood that dyea it
crimson. Her delicate bands are clinched
like tiger's claws, and with a scream of
fury she dashes from her chair, and buries
ber talons in Susie's fair throat The at
tack is so sudden that tha girt has no
chance of resisting it.
She feels her rival's nails digging into
her tender flesh, her eyes protrude, her
power of speech is gone; in another mo
ment perhaps she might have become un
conscious, wh'-n the hold is as suddenly
relaxed, and the wretched Lena sinks in
a crushed heap un the Boor, sobbing her
heart out at her feet.
"Oh! forgive me; forgive me!" she
moans, "I am mad! I did uot know what
I was doing. 1 am always mad when 1
think of the woman he has made his
wife, (ill, Susie: speak to me; say that
you won't hate me! I only thought of
Philip. I forgut that it was you. Oh!
why don't yoa speak? why don't yon
speak? 1 will kill myself this very night
if you do not forgive me."
Poor Susie is scarcely in a condition to
answer. She has been terribly alarmed
by the unexpected assault, and every
nerve in her body is quivering at the idea
that hire at her feet lies the woman
for whose sake l,.r.l l.ntou ha so ill
requited her love for him. But at last she
speaks, in a low. trembling voice, which
is true, although it cannot quite conceal
her feelings.
"I do forgive you. Ina! Please get
up. But I have never wronged you. Why
should you wish to harm me? I.et us say
farewell, until we can both think more
calmly of the position in which we stand
to one another, and are able to meet with
out this bitter pain."
And so, weeping and moaning behind
her shabby shawl, I-na Ansley walk
quickly out of the room, and runs down
the stone staircase into the street.
CHAPTER, XXIV.
When the landlady taps at her door
the next morning, with the intimation
that there is a young person from the
theater waiting to see her. Susie desires
she shall tie shown up at once. She is
very pale and serious, poor child, ss she
attends this second interview with her
rival, but she tries to put every thought
out of her mind, except that she is !,ena
Anstey, tbe friend and ;ilaymate of her
childhood.
"I have been thinking very deeply on
what you told me last night, Ir.a," she
says, "and it appears to me that you did
not give any satisfactory proof of your
having been Iord Luton's wife. Don't
imagine I doubt your word, but 1 should
not be dealing fairly by my husband, to
set upon what you say. until I am sure.
The first Lady Luton's name was Mugda
lena." "So is mine. 'Magdalena Corinns An
stey." Those are the names you will find
in the register. But I was always called
lyenu,' until that flirting fool. Mrs. j
George Lnmlerf, taught Ijird Luton to
use my full name."
"Oh, you knew Mrs. Ueorge. of course!" ,
erics Susie, with sudden remembrance.
"Knew her! I should say I did. and
hated her into the bargain. She was at !
the bottom of half my jealousy of Philip, i
She made love to biru in the most open j
and barefaced manner, and he was too
weak, I suppose, to resist her flattery.
Men are idiots when their vanity is '
tickled. She was always having secret
understandings and conversations with '
him, till I grew sick of the sight of her
dyed bair and rouged checks."
(To be continued.)
Artificial Quicksands.
Suppose we take a certain quantity
of quicksand, dry it artificially, and
then try to make it into quicksand
again. Put it into a box and pour water
ou it carefully. Instantly the water
Is soaked up. and If we measure the
volume or weigh the Rand we snail see
that it takes up a quantity of water
that measures 30 per cent, of its own
volume, or 2ft per cent of weight, the
rest remaining upon the layer of sand.
If a little hole is now pierced in the
bottom of the box pure water will run
out, the sand merely forming a kind
of immovable filter, and If the box is
turned upside down the and remains
in its position aa a solid mass. If the
conditions of experiment, however, are
reversed, and the water is put Into the
vessel and Into it dry sand Is sifted in
a thin stream, while the vessel is con
stantly shaken lightly, the thick but
easily flowing compound known as
quicksand is obtained. If, however,
the vessel be allowed to rest the tmsss
again settles down into tbe conditions
obtained by the first experiment La
Nature.
Don't Wet a Pencil with the Tongue.
The practice of wetting a lead pencil
on the tongue before using It ia an un
clean habit, to say the least, and per
haps also a dangerous one. Instead of
making the pencil write more freely
and easily, it hardens it and makes It
write blurred and Irregular. News
paper men and those who uae lead pen
cils a great deal never dampen the
lead In the mouth or with a uponge.
Besides being injurious to the lead, it
is a dangerous habit. Inasmuch aa dis
ease ha been known to be conveyed in
that way Into the system.
Carrying Power of the Camel.
A camel has twice the carrying pow
er of an ox. With nn ordinary load of
4)0 pounds he can travel twelve or
fourteen days without water, going
forty miles a day. Camela are fit to
work at Ave years old, bnt their
strength begins to decline at 25. al
though they usually live to 40. The
Tartars have herds of these animals,
often 1,000 belonging to one family,
They were numerous in antiquity, for
the patriarch Job had 3,000.
Ready for Dinner.
It Is the custom of tbe Chinese ar
I lillerymen to go to uiuuer punctually
a tbe hour strikes, even in the mid
dle of an engagement, The better dis
ciplined sailors do not leave their guns,
but they growl horribly If tbelr meal
hour finds tbem unavoidably engaged.
The men are cool enough to eat leisure
ly with shells flying round tbem.
He-Do you really think Jack la la
lore with yon? She Certainly. I
have the moat poaJUve proof. He
aerer: 'knows whether mj bat la on
n2 r -'Mr-staff ate Tlmaa,
3 ir
Treatment or BIkv Horses.
Not withstanding the fact that the
press continually admonishes whom It
may concern that it docs no good to
whip or pound a bulky horse. almost
every owner or driver of one does it to
day. It is probably the greatest piece
of horse folly in existence. It is not a
remnant of barbarism, lint It is contin
ued barbarity, and brines out what
original sin there Is in a man.
Tbe brain of a horse can retain lint
one idea at a tinip. If the idea is to
sulk, whipping only intensities it. A
change of that idea, then. Is the only
su'-cessfui method of management.
This may lie accomplished In sws of
ways, a few of which an' hen- named:
Tie a handkerchief alKint his eyes;
tic his tail to the bcllyhand or lwck
Land: fasten a stick In Ills month; tie a
cord tightly around Ms leg: clasp his
nostrils nnd shut lis wind off until be
wants to go: unhitch him from the ve
hicle and tlt ti hltcti lilin up again, or
almost any way to get his mind on
something else.
Whipping or scolding always does
barm. The treatment should always Ik
gentle. There are more balky drive
tbiin horses. National Stockman.
Werm Wra'ltcr Chicken Hoostt.
During flic summer .mil early autumn
months chickens do much better if al
lowed to roost out of doors nights.
Plenty of fresh air makes them vigor
ous and hardy. Sonic protection is
needed, however, to protect them from
showers, and tbe attacks of owls and
hawks that would especially trouble
them if roosting !n tnes. A simple
roof attached to lite side of a building
Is shown in the IlltiKtratlon. H is easy
to build, can be taken down In the fall,
and answers the pHnwe admirably.
r v, i
:
IXfcXl-K.VMVK CHICKfc.N BOOSTS.
Put. the chicks to roost once or t wice
and they will soon go to their new
quarters of their own accord.
Walerli-upplied by Siphon.
Siphoning water is one of the sim
plest methods of getting a supply for Ir
rigation or building. Where there is a
litxly of water about the building, but
separated from them by such a height
of ground or ridge that water will not
naturally flow through a pipe from the
supply to the source of consumption, it
la often iiosslble to use a siphon. A
siphon consist, of a tube bent at a
Ilnt nearer one end than at the other,
giving a long and a short arm. If tbe
tube tie filled with water, the column
of water in the long arm Is heavier
than the column in the short arm. As
the heavier column starts to run clown
out of the tube, a vacuum Is created at
the bend, and the lighter column of
water In the short arm is constantly
forced up to fill the constantly produc
ed vacuum at the bend, the stream lur
ing thus made constant The water
must first be started through tiny large
pipe by a pump, but when once the
flow is started, there is no need for the
pump. If the piM and the shut-off are
perfectly air-tight, tbe stream will be
gin to flow again when turned on. Ag
riculturist. New Fodder Crops.
New fodder crops continue lo attract
much attention at the Vermont station.
Soja beans of the green and black va
rieties have proven satisfactory each
year. No other leguminous hoed crop
has given letter returna In tonnage of
green fodder, dry matter, or protein.
The green variety yielded at the rate of
six and a half tons green and two tons
dry fodder, and nearly one-quarter of a
ton of protein to the acre. Good growths
were made of hairy and spring vetches
with and without onts, but after ex
perience with these crops for several
years at the Vermont station, they are
considered unequal to peas and oats.
Hcrradella yielded about a ton of dry
matter per acre, and Is recommended
as a promising forage crop that Is rich
In protein. Agriculturist.
Hnreaa and Males,
Jive them work every suitable day.
There is manure to haul and spread
over the meadows, pastures to be
cleaned up, atone to haul off the fields,
and fencing Umber to cut and deliver
to where tbe posts are to be aet. All
this work ahould be pushed through
during the winter months. Curry the
horses, and brush them down. Keep
tbe stables clean, and let the air and
sunshine into the stables. Steady work
and liberal feeding will keep the teams
In health.
atiaaal Ma Veediaa.
Careful expert mauta nave shown that
tha liberal feeding of foods rich to pro-ah-wbtch
bj tha ao-eaJJed fUab-fonn-
,111 1 TiT
ii.'
jpf matter of tbe food greatly increas
es tbe growth of pig- The reason for
this is quite erMent and simple. It is
that this food so encourages tbe devel
opment of muscular tissue, of which
the vital organs mostly consist, that
the digestion aud assimilation of the
fxKl are made much ewsleT u nd ffl'C
tlve; that tbe food is eaHen with better
appetite, and Is far Iwtter digested. In
fact, the machinery of the pig Is so
niiK-b improved by this feeding that it
work Is done much mote effectively
and consequently so itnuii more profit
ably. Agriculturist. I
the Farm Iiwrl'ina.
Make the house comfortable; have
the doors and windows made tight, j
Omimon black Hut tacked along the
edges of the nasi) or frame will keep (
out the -old and save considerable coal. ;
Have the water brought to the bouse in
a barrel placed on two wheels, if the'
well Is uot In the outside summer kltch.
en. as it should be. The coal or wood
should ls placed near the kitchen. The
coal may be kept lu a large bin, w ith a
door at the lsittotn How to the fbior. so
that it con then Is? shoveled up with
ease. 1-Yw farmers can afford to pay
for indoor help, and if these little ar
rangements can Ik made, and they can
be. without an extra outlay, they will
add much to the comfort and happiness
of all. and In addition will save a large
amount of Inlior and annoyance.
How to Praw Stump.
My experience ban taught me that
for those using capstan grab and stump
machines or otherwise pulling in a
TO fltoeiKt.Y HUAW A STI MP.
horizont.il direction, it Is advisable to
hitch to the stump In the manner Illus
trated. If the chain is fastened to a
large side root or to a large root at the
side nearest the machine, double as
much power is required ns If It were
hitched on the opposite side and the
chain passed over the stump, either If
bitched to a root and passed over, or
when bitched to the further side of a
high stump near the top and passed
over. Kgbert Houkmn, Kent County,
Michigan.
f niter I'cc for t ows.
I think very favorably of the raising
of sugar beefs to feed to stock, espe
cially to milch cows. I feed about four
quarts of beets, chopped up, with three
pints of conimeat and one pine of cot-toiiMi-d
meal for morning ration; at
night 1 substitute tidied fistls, or
shorts, for the roots. I like a change in
the roots, giving one morning beets,
the next carrots, and then potatoes, as
1 have them to spare. I think stock
like a imuge In their diet ns well ns
we do. There Is a very perceptible fall
ing off in ".he flow of milk as soon us I
stop feeding roots.. Hoard's Dairyman,
The Kleht Way to Feed Horses.
1 1' n ceptacie for the horse's grain
should iievtr lit made of wood, but r.l
wnys of iron, which Is easily kept clean
and sweet. A few handful of dry
meal added to each feed of oats will
cause the horse to eat much slower,
chew his food more perfwtly. and
thereby be kept lu more perfect condi
tion, thorough mastication luing neces
sary to good digestion. If tbe weather
Is cold, let the meal be largely of corn,
increasing the amount of fine feed, ns
shorts, as the weather Iteeomes warm,
with a little oil cake toward spring.
Our Animal Friends.
Tools nnd Waifens.
Brand all the tools; mend the grnln
sacks and murk tbem, and hung them
up out of the way of mice. If the wag
ons want painting, wash them off first,
wipe dry, and give them a good coat of
linseed oil paint. Cheap paint will not
last. Crude petroleum is an excellent
oil to apply to wagons, carts, rollers,
harrows and nil Iron tools. It can lie
had by the barrel for five cents to five
and a half cents per gallon. It is also
excellent to apply to cuts and sores on
horses and cattle.
Know,
When heavy falls of snow come get
out tbe snow plow and open the paths
before the snow crusts over. It will
save lnlmr to open the roads at once. A
foot-wide hemlock plank, sixteen feet!
In length nnd two inches in thickness,
cut in half and nailed together V-shnp-ed,
will make a first-class plow.
The I'airv.
Washing out the buttermilk Is much
more economical of labor than working
it out.
All reasonable care should be taken I
to prevent the cows from drinking
stagnant water.
The traveling dairy schools of Cana
da have done splendid work in raising
the grade of butter In that country.
Brine salting of butter la waateful
and Inaccurate. The moat satisfactory
way Is to salt on the butter worker,
weighing both salt and butter.
Tbe power to consume, digest and
assimilate nutritious food Is what is de
sired of the cow at maturity; and to re
ceive this, the calf must be well fed.
An old lesson, not yet well learned, la
to have good ventilation In the milk
room, clean floors and walla, and to
harbor nothing which will produce bad
odors.
The beat profit from dairying comes
from the manufacture of gilt-edged but
ter for private customers. Make this
your aim; and then do not be too indif
ferent to bunt for the customers.
No other matter about the farm will
so roorly stand being made a thing of
secondary Interest aa tbe dairy. A
vary little neglect will go a long way
toward destroying tha profit Neglect
I aura to attend that which la oot of
II rat coDslderatioa.
FASHION'S FANCIES.
Feaeoasbte aetl"e aet Will Isr
terrst the Iadlea.
The fashionable silk this senaon
have moire effects, and moire with sil
ver or gold threads running through It
are very effe-tive. Tiuselled fabrics
of all sons abound In the shops, but
they require very careful blending whb
other materials to make tbetn lcom
lng. Muff chains of gold with diamonds
set at intervals so that they are open
on both idcs, are one of the noveltU
in Jewelry. Hubies, sapphires, emer
alds, and amethysts are also distrib
uted in the same manner.
Mahogany-colored hair Is tbe latest
fad, and the transition period bet weeti
dark brown and this coveted shade of
ml is very Interesting to the keen ob
server. Watches have gradually diminished
In size, until now the very latest bit of
enamel, set round w ith diamonds, la do
larger than a man's signet ring.
Fine book muslin in all the pretty
light tints Is if-d for evening waists
for young girls, and it is made over
cheap silk or satin trimmed with bu-e
and ribbons, and worn with light-colored
or black silk skirta.
Many of the new toques have high
small crown, but the real Parisian
toque Is cut away so much at the mid
dle of the buck that there are two
sharp points fitting down on the hair
at either side, while flowers and wlilt"
feathers are very conspicuous in thu
trimming.
Sleeves in evening gowns are very
short butterfly puffs or a draped puff
caught with a bow of satin ribbon or
a bunch of flowers, and there is no fash
ionable medium Is-tween this and the
long sleeve, which means that the el
bow sleeve has had Its day.
Torchon aud Valenciennes patterns
combined are the new Lice for trim
ming undergarments.
Satin rlblMM. two Imiifw wide, plait
ed on the Inside of the Uirt at the bot
tom. I the balityeuso which f.sshhm
favors Just at pre'nt; it is more durs
ble than the pinked silk ruffle.
Blouse Wilis: of velvet or velveteen,
with narrow metal belt, are the cor
rect Ixslicp for skating costumes.
' If You Want a Wife."
The Key. ('barbs II. Paikliurwt. I). D.,
ll8cusses "The Voting Mnn and Mar
riage" in the Ladies' Home Journal.
"Marriage to n certain degree." he says,
"a yonni man Is to bsik iiy from a
utilitarian standpoint. A good wife Is
so much capital. the makes him to lie,
by kind of grace, a gnat deal more
than he is by nature. She contributes
the qualities needed In order to convert
his vigor Into u safe as well ns proditc
tive eflideuey. She hit rodtices, for In
stance, Into his liitcUoHua) nature that
ingredient of sentiment which Intellect
requires In order to be able to do its
btt work. Heart and brain need to
conspire In order to the attainment of
the true, ami without curing to ntort
that mar, l naturally heartless, any
more than 1 should wltdi to n ss in ue that
woman is by nature brainless, yet heart
In Its way Is just as precious us brain
in Its way. mid woman, so long as slip
is untainted by the piisiott of wanting
to be a man, will be that memlsTof tin
connubial corsiration that will In par
ticular contribute to the capital stock
lis afTectiouai element. Some women
may resent this, but I would like to
caution young men against cherishing
matrlnfotiittl designs upon any woman
wad is likely to resent It. If what you
want Is a wife, nnd not merely a house
keeper, yon must keep your eye well
open for a warm bundle of femininity
that will be to yon In a personal way
what the tire on the hearth is to you 'n
a physical way-a fund of tropical com
fort that will keep the tifTmw out of
your thinking, the frost out of your
feeling, and the general machinery of
your life in a condition of pleasurable
activity,"
Spanish Cruelty fn America.
Writing of Spanish cruelty in the new
world the historian, Uis Ctisas, says:
"As for the continent, it is certain, and
what I myself know to be true, that
the Spaniards list ve ruined ten king
doms there, bigger than all Hpnin, by
tbe commission of all sorts of barlMirity
and unheard-of cruelties. We dure as
sert w ithout fear that. In si-aee of those
forty years In which the Himulnnls ex
ercised their intolerable tyranny In this
new world, they unjustly put to death
over I2,(m,m of people, counting men.
women and children, ami it may Ik af
firmed without Injury to truth, upon a
Just calculation, that during tlila spune
of time above m,m,(m have died In
these countries.
An Odd Fish.
In tbe Sea of Calllee or I tike THte
rias, as It is often railedthere is a
atrange fish named the Chromls Slmo
nls, which is more careful of Its young
than flsji generally are. The male flsh
take the eggs In Its mouth and keeps
them In his natural side pockets, where
they are regularly hatched, and remain
until able to shift for themselves. By
this ingenious arrangement the brood
is comparatively guarded agalnat its
natural enemies; It Is easily fed, too.
but It la a ptiwle bow the little onw
ear-ape being ealen alive.
Merely to Have Labor.
thia
. springs
wings.
Kmbryo lawyers,
In the law schools of thle country
4 per """eut of tbe atudenta are grad
ttad very year, or more taavoaa-tMrtf,