...
CHAPTER XXI.
It was more than a week later. A
heavy fall of snow, such as we rarely get
so late in February. made all the world
white. I stood at the wiudow of my own
little sitting room, leaning against the
heavy, deep-red curtains, and looking out
at those whirling, noiseless flakes. But
at the library door my strength returned.
I walked in. Rayvenham stood before the
fire, my grandfather near the wiudow.
Mother lay on the sofa, Aunt Rose being
seated by her.
"I am glad to see you so much better,
my precious," said my grandfather, in a
voice that shook slightly. 'Terrible times
terrible times, Olga, my child."
"Yea," I answered quietly, not returning
his kiss. "They are terrible times, and
first I have to ask your pardon, my dear
est grandpapa, for all the trouble I have
brought on you without meaning it."
"I think you have suffered more than I,
my poor little girl," he said, sadly. '
"I want to give you an account of ev
erything just as it happened," I said,
clearly and evenly.
I then told everything that the reader
already knows. When I reached the point
to reveal my secret, I rose and stood be
fore my fiance.
"Rayvenham," I said, "Mr. Burnside
two days ago released me from my prom
ise, and I am free to tel! you. But at the
same time, I confess that I I would rath
er not. Will it not content you to know
that, long ago, I acted in a way I have
never ceased to repent of? Will you not
reKpect Mr. Burnside's wish a very
strong one that it should never be
known? Could you trust me as far as
that?"
He crimsoned. "Olga," he said, "yon
ask too much. It would imbitter a fel
low's life to have a wife who I Should
always be imagining "
"There," I said, "you are free to marry
some one with an unstained name and a
clear conscience. When I was a little girl
I tried to murder Mr. Burnside. I did it
deliberately, fur the sake of Remy Da
mien, whom I loved. I hated Mr. Burn
side, because I thought him unjust to my
uncle. I would have done anything for
Remy, so I took a dngger, went into Mr.
Burnside's room in the dead of nigbt, and
tabbed him. For three days his life hung I
in the balance, lie fully and freely for-
gave me, and showed me how strangely
perverted were my ideas of right and ,
wrong. He thought, and I thought, too. j
that I could put. my past behind uie, and I
build up a new future for myself, without i
any haunting regrets. It never once oc
curred to me that the uncle for whom I
had so grievously transgressed could be
base enough to use that very fact ns a
bold over me." I paused a moment. Hav
ing said all this in measured tones. I felt
that my self-control was slipping from
me, and that I must soon give wiiy. My
grandfather had covered hid eyes with
his hands I could not tell what his
thoughts were. Rayvenham sat staring
down at the carpet as if daxed. A slight
noise from the sofa startled Aunt Rosulie.
Mother had fainted away.
"Now." I said steadily. "I see how mis
taken I was. Grandpapa, you may be
loath to hurt me now, but the time will
come when you will be thankful that your
beir did not ally himself with a Damien.
You see what my uncle is a forger a
convicted scoundrel; you hear what I my
self have done attempted a human life.
It is far better, is it not, that there should
be no alliance between a Carewe and a
member of such a house? Is it not so,
Rayvenham?"
Had Rayvenham turned impetuously
round had he held out his arms to me.
and cried: "I love you! What are all these
obstacles to love like mine?" I believe I
should have clung to him, my whole heart
would have gone out to him, and I might
have lived and died the wife of Rayven
ham Carewe, with only very occasional
misgivings as to whether I gave my hus
band the highest love which ij was in my
power to give. But such was not to be
my fate.
CHAPTER XXII.
I went upnfairs. My little world all
lay in ruins round me. I could not realize
anything beyond the fact that I was deso
late, desolate: 1 conxi not go to my roon..
I knew that Marianne was there with her
sewing, keeping up a good tire. I could
not bear the thought of seeing any one,
and, turning aside, I ran along the gallery,
and entered a corridor which was hardly
ever used.
So intense was niy despair that I did
not hear the quiet osning and shutting
of a door near uie. My paroxysm of grief
was arrested by a hand on my shoulder,
and a voice that voice which had power
to send electrical thrills through every
nerve in my body said:
, "Oh, Miss Damien, what is the trou
ble?" It was dreadful .o be found by Mr.
'Burnalde of all men, in this state of col
lapse. How he would despise me! I bur
ied my face lower and lower, and held
out my banda to motion him away. I had
not even known that he was in the house,
and bail felt so aeenre from interruption
In that corridor.
"Oh, leave me! Leave me!" 1 said.
' "I will not leave you," he returned,
firmly, "till know wnt n cause of
tl this trouble,
"Go away; oh, for pity's sake, go! 1
can't bear that you should see me like
alar
' With those bine eye compelling me,
there was no help for it. "My engage
ment ia broken off," 1 faltered, closing
my eytc; and my sobs burst ont afresh.
"What!" Ma voire startled me. "Your
aagagementbrokeo? Why 7 Why? Who
ifenk Itr '
; "I," ! sobbed, "when I Paw that liny-
I ranhara dlatruated met I told them oh,
I totd taetn everything, and be never said
tcwwir ; :
I i'i tisiM tram Bar side, and took two
fmav aatd dowa La gallery. "The
rtA. aageatis-uaiy Maea-
n X
from his engagement, and that he caught
at the suggestion?"
rYes. I mean that. But who would not
have done so? Oh, how cau I live so
humiliated?"
"That a man should have once been in
Paradise, and voluntarily walk oat again!
Great heavens, it is incomprehensible,"
he said, vehemently. "Are you sure of it?
Are you not mistaken?"
He dropped on his knees before me
be, my great, proud archangel Victor
he caught ray hands and held them
against his heart.
"Do you wish to drive me mad?" he
cried. "If only that fool Rayvenham
knew what he had done! Why must it
be always like this that you must weep
your heart out for a man who is unworthy
even to look into your sweet eyes, while
some one some one els' is hungering for
one look, one word, anything you could
spare! Olga" unconsciously he used my
Christian name for the first time how
sweet it sounded from his lips "it is a
moral impossibility that the man you
loved could elect to fling away your love!
I can't believe it!"
I struggled to release my hands, but he
held them fast. I was compelled to an
swer. "I think, perhaps, that is the reason
why Rayvenham has given me up," I fal
tered. "I never did love him' really, not
as I could love. He never knew it; but
I didn't."
"Why did you engage yourself, then?"
"Because I thought he loved me very
much. He said so; and because grand
papa said he should leave Gray Ashtead
to me, and it seemed so hard on Rayven
ham! I did not know what I was doing.
I was fond of him, and every one was
pleased. That is what makes it so hard
now to bear! My heart is not broken
only my pride! my pride! I thought it was
noble of me to marry him, and now he
won't have me!"
"You nay you are not in love with the
high-souled Rayvenham. I'ray, are you
in luve with any one else?"
I made an effort to rise to escape from
him. "I shall not tell you you have no
right to ask," I said, excitedly. "Let me
go, Mr. Burnside, you are cruel to keep
me here."
I did not move, but trembled from head
to foot. There was complete silence for
many seconds, as the old clock at the far
end of the corridor ticked on monotonous
ly, and I looked down in my lap, feeling
the gaxe of the intense eyes which were
looking on me. At last I could bear it no
longer. Wringing my hands together, I
looked up with a low cry. His arms went
around me in an instant. My head was
on his breast, my white face turned up to
him.
"Is it Victor?" he whispered, in a low
voice. "My love, my own darling, is it
Victor?"
"Yes." The words floated from my
mouth almost without my knowledge.
His golden head bent over, lower, till
his lips met mine. He only just held me,
tenderly and close, shut in from the win
ter's cold, and from all worldly frets and
annoyance. How could trouble ever come
near me, since Victor loved me. and I
was free to love him back again? I sup
ose the snow must have disappeared.
How could snow remain chill emblem of
winter time in face of the blue sky of
those eyes, and the sunshine of my giant's
golden hair?
CHAPTER XXIII.
I was dressed rather early that even
ing, and slipped down into the drawing
room, with a vagn hope that some one
else might also have dressed early, and
be there to greet me.
The library door was just at the foot of
the staircase, and. as I came down, I
heard voices speaking. A movement, as
of some one crossing the room, made
me pause on the lowest stair, and, at the
same instant, the door opened, and Ray
venham came out, his face scarlet, his
expression full of suppressed rage and
mortification. So preoccupied was he that
he did not even see me. but hurried past
where I stood, ascending the staircase
three steps at a time. Then the door
opened again, and out walked Victor, his
eyes glowing, his lip cnrled. I pitied loor
Rayvenham. I had once heard how Mr.
Burnside's tongue could lash any one for
whose conduct he felt contempt. He was
turning toward the drawing room without
looking in my direction.
"Victor!"
He turnid like a flash. ".My heart!"
He took my hand. "Come into the draw
ing room at once, he went on.
We walked in, hand in hand, like two
hildren. Once there, be turned and open
ed his a nil a.
'What ages and ages since saw
each other la'! Three hours, I should
think," he said.
"How have I done without yon. Vior,
for so many years?" I nsked as I pushed
my hands up through the thick uas.-.e of
his shining hair. "How your Yum' a name
used to frighten me! Do you remember:
And how you cut off your beard to please
me? It all comes back so vividly. h.
to think that I shall see desr Burnside
again!"
"And Rayvenham," said Victor, with
an edge of satire in his voice. "I got to
the truth those Lyndon have been gel
ting hold of hiin. Of course, at the time
of my accident at Burnside, a good many
stories got about, and no doubt Remy V:
mien hinted to Misa Lyndon, If he did net
tell her straight ont. the ratine of your
sudden departure. She Lady Laaeellea
Ilervey. you know, ha been bavin that
niece, F.rmyn, to atay with her, at Ox
ford, and, between tbem, they had poi
soned hi mind pretty well agalnat yon be
fore ever this last affair began! Well, I
wish him joy of Miss Krmyn Lyndon. If
she thinks she will have Gray Aahtead.
though, ake ia mistaken. Tonr grandfath
er declare nothing ahall induce nlm -"
"Ob, Victor," I aald, hurriedly, "Ray
v en ham moat have Gray Aahtead! What
honk! yoa and I do with it? We don't
want it"
Ha laughed -eewfc a glad, toirtc laaaa
-4hat H waa Maettowa, -VH&Umll,
"1 dare ny Mr. Ca'ewe will rth-nt in
time."
"But I want to know what has happen-t-d
to all the people? To Muduleua, Sau
auo and Remy DumieuV"
"Calhoun thinks they will hang San
zio. Madulcmi will be let off easy we
shall manage that. I don't know what tn
do altotit Remy; I think I should leave
him to take his chance if it were not f ir
two facts: Firstly, he bears your name;
secondly, you would have to give evidence
against him."
CHAPTER XXIV.
We had just finished dinner when the
butler gave notice that Calhoun wished
to see Mr. Burnside.
"Show him in here," s:iid my grand
father, and in a few minute the man.
with his quaint, impassive face, entered
the room.
I felt full of sympathy for him. His
manner was as quiet and respectful a
ever, but he had deep lines under his eyes,
and his mouth had acquired a dejected
droop. Any one who knew him well could
tell in an instant how keenly he felt hi
master's death.
"Good evening, miss. Glad to see yon
so much better." he said, deferentially.
"I ought to offer you my best wishes,
miss I supHise yon know "
"No," interrupted Mr. Carewe, "Miss
Damien does not know."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Ijord Egerton's will," said my grand
father. "I supM)se you ought to know,
Olga. You are a great heiress. Lord Eg
erton's will left two hundred a year to
Calhoun, w ho well deserves it. He willed
that Valleyford should be pulled down,
and the estate, together with the ma'e
rials the house was built with, to be sold.
The proceeds, and a thousand pounds be
sides, to go to an asylum for the blind.
After that, with the. exception of legacies
to your Aunt Rosalie, Rayvenham and
myself, the whole of his money is left to
von, including the treasure, should it be
found."
"And as Miss Damien found it, she well
deserves it," put in Calhoun.
"There is a proviso," went on my grand
father, "that, shonld you ever meet Mada
lena Carleton, and should she be in want,
that you should provide for her."
"That brings me, sir," said Calhoun,
"to what I came here to tell you, only
seeing Miss Damien put it out of my mind.
I've had a blow to-day, sir."
"A blow?"
"Yes, sir; Sauzio ia dead!"
"Dead?"
"Yes, sir; end Mrs. Remy Damien, s!:e
hasn't si)ke one word yet, since she re
covered consciousness. Seems as if she
might go off any day, now, and no justice
done at all."
"Well, he's gone to a surer justice than
oi.: vs." said my grandfather, after a
lengthy pause. "What did he die of?"
"Apoplexy. He looked like that. They
found him dead on bis bed, with his baini
clinched."
"Victor," I whispered, "is that money of
Paul's really mine?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Then pay Remy'g debt, stop the proe
cution, and send him out of the country."
It seemed hs if nine years were bridge j
over, and I sat once more, a small, shy
girl, beside a big young man. full of deep
thoughts and unused to children. The
same feeling of a gush of rapturous life
came over me as I stepped for the second
time on Devonshire ground, this time with
the knowledge that it was to be my home
for always.
We had spent a very brief honeymoop
in the hike district; we meant to have a
long holiday later in the year, and revisit
Florence and Rome the places where we
first began to know each other. Just now.
nothing seemed to suit us so well as this
idea of coming home to Burnside with th
springtime in our hearts and all around us.
Remy Damien had gone to New Zealand,
with the promise of a yearly allowance so
long as he stayed there; as for his poor
wife, she was failing day by day. I had
visited her and done all I could for her
and now she was at Ventnor. in the Isl
of Wight, though we knew that nothing
could arrest the rapid decline of her whole
system. Her lungs had always been deli
cate, and a residence in Valleyford during
the winter, when the dtrnp river mists
had often hung round the old house thick
and clammy and vaixirous, had developed
the seeds of consumption to an extent
which must soon prove fatal.
Rayvenham had returned to Oxford at
once on my engagement to Victor, but he
came back for my wedding.
Easter fell early that year, and we were
married in Easter week.
(The end.)
.lust Strong Knoagh.
The man for the ocasiou Is not al
ways so promptly at hand as he mociiis
to have been lu this tstory, given by tha
St. Louis Republic:
Not long since Saudow was golt'jf
from KanRji City to Omaha, and had
occiig'on to go Into the day coach. There
he was nccostd by n tnll gentleman
with long fide-whisker. "
"Excuse me, sir," he unit), "but ar
you not Mr. Sandow?"
"Yes," an id the strong man.
"You cau lift three ton in namens?"
"Yes, sir. that Ui my record," the Her
cules returned.
"You enn hold two hundredweight at
arms' length?"
"Yes."
"And put up three hundred pounda
with one am?"
"Yea."
alx hundred with two?"
, "Yes."
"Well, then, would you kindly raise
this car window for me?"
Not by the Air Line,
The common English delusion that
Scotchmen have no senae of humor la
due to the Inability of the Eugllah to
understand the Scotch humor, which
ha a much finer point than tbelra.
Here la an Incident which la uaed to
illuatrate the aupoaed denalty of un
derstanding of the Scothm&n; it really
Illustrates the fact that bia humor la
keener than the other man' a.
MacTaviah, coming to London, met a
cockney on the road. "Hoo faur ta't u
London r aaked MacTa?lah.
"Ten mllea, aa the crow 11 lea," an
swered the cockney.
"Hoota. toots, mon." aald MacTarlab;
"I'm bo fans to floe; I'm gann to
waalk. Do bob? bUm ta't aa the
UNDERSTOOD BUSINESS BETTER
THROUGH the business women
other women are coming to un
derstand more about the value of
money. It has always Ix-en one of the
most cherished masculine theories thnt
women are eutirely incapable of un
derstanding anything about linance. A
father, who had hundreds of thousands
of dollar to leave to his daughters,
would let them grow up in such abso
lute Ignorance of such matter that
when they came into possession of their
fortunes they did not know where
abouts on a check to sign their names.
A mtu harassed with business losses
will let his w ife go on igtiorautly spend
ing money and making bills he cnuuot
pay. The result bus becu that women
have been the victims of all sorts of dis
honest men, who have robbed them of
their money because they had not been
taught to take care of It. The business
woman knows iH-tter, and It Is largely
through her influence that It has come
to be looked upon as silly, not Interest
ing, for a woman not to understand the
rudiments at least of financial transac
tions. In New York oue of the fads of
the winter among fashionable women
Is to belong to bookkeeping classes.
New Orleans Picayune.
Iecrrattons of Tlne Pnp-r.
In a certain elegant Iwink that caters
to women there is a cozy corner that,
while Intended for work as well as
play, is very effectively furnished In
brilliant green. There Is a broad lattice
over the doorway and a curving arch
all of tisane paper. A ml there are rugs,
pillows and vases entirely of the fra-
COZV COJtXEK.
pile yet firm material. The lattice is
made over strips of thin pastelxiard.
The strips are cut an Inch wide and the
crinkled paper glued on. lirass nail
heads clamp the slats in place. When
hung it Is firm and lasting, and look
precisely like the green arbor of child
hood recollections. The rug is made the
same, with the paper doubled twice
over the pasteboard. The vases are of
wood covered with paper, and the pil
lows are of two thlcknees of tough
Chinese rice Itfiper, which Is uutear
able. The corner Is mightily admired,
and has the great merit of not being
too exjiensive to throw away after one
Is tired of it. Chicago Chronicle.
Latest In )re FIpc'm.
The first of these three new sleeves
has a very high cuff, slushed with chif
fon plaiting let in the slashes. Above
this there Is a small, plaited puff of
Bilk, and over this au epaulet of cloth
of the same material as the dress,
whatever It may be. The second is
what Is called a coat sleeve, ricrfectly
plain, the only trimming being a broad
binding on each seam; the binding
broadens out and Is cut into epaulets
slashed to form a sort of rever at the
k boulder. This la very popular upon
tailor-made dresses. The third Is n soft
tlk sleeve; this Is suitable for India or
any other light summer silk. The
sleeve Is In small gathers nil the way
up to the shoulders, where It has one
big puff, below which a lace ruffle falls.
A pretty appenrnuce Is given by pulling
a strip of silk out through the sh-eve In
acMMtaa sLaiTas.
such a way aa to form ttttle puffe. A
raff of doable obdffoa eomplotaa the
wrtat
KaatesoaMat Ktlaaetia.
When a man ha ncatrod Am aawwer
wbJca la conreasioaafxjr aaypoaed to
hart raad lata the latapuiat creature
to tbo wottJ kit in aa-y mw be to
secure the reaJ'.ty of that MiHoltion
by asking the consent of uhs futurj
bride's parents or guardian.
It Is correct to sec the parents, not
write to tJifin, tuiJess the Hitter imrxe
Is the only on- immwIMc to take. When
j consent is given the engagement is
looked uiMin as a settled thing, and tins
next thing 1 to make It known.
This should !h done In the very first
Instance by the bridegroom expectant,
who announce It to his family. They
shmikl without delay cull upon his
fiancee, expressing tlielr lcflarp at the
news, and a-s-surlng her of .1 welcome,
among tliwn.
These calls should lv re limed, or the
letters answered, with promptitude;
and now the general pubi'c Is informed
of the event. This may lie done by
writing to distant frletvls and telling
others by word of mouth. It Is usual
to send a notice of the engagement to
certain paper, where it hi likely to lie
widely Keen.
The bridegroom's first care should be
to provide the engagement ring, the
outward sign and symlsd of the prom
ise exchanged. It Is usual to let the
bride's taste select it, and he may
either as-eitain her preferences Is-fofe
buying It. or end a tray from the jew
elers for her to select from.
Friends and acquaintances, on bear
ing of the engagniieut, should at once
send their coiigratulat-ioais and gMl
wishes. Thl-s may either be doth; by
calling In jstsoii to deliver them, or by
writing. Calls of congratulation should
lie returned ami letters answered. A
few words of cordial thank are all
that is required.
Durln an engagement some of tlie
stricter rules of cJmcronage are re
laxed. Engaged yxojle are allowed to
ride, cycle and walk together unattend
ed, though not. of course, so publiely as
U(M.t!KKiiate a chaperon n well.
Tnkiritt Care of the Teeth.
If your dentist Is honest nnd most
of them are he will tell you that If
people would only exercise ordinary
care they would materially reduce his
Income and that of others In the same
profession. The dentist should Is- vis
ited alsjut once every three months. In
this way the teeth can tc kept In good
condition, ls-cnus the dentist Is able
to detect the first sign of trouble and
may take measures to prevent its go
ing too far.
When a tooth begins to decay It not
only affects Itself, but the teeth that
are next to it. ami It also affects the
breath In the most unpleasant maimer.
It also causes indigestion. The best
way to prevent this decay Is to si-e that
no food Is allowed to lodge between the
teeth. You should not only brush your
teeth thrice a day, but after every meal.
Brush them from the gums to the
crown of the tooth; in this way the par
ticles of food that are hslgcd Is-tween
the teeth will be dislodgi-d. If the teeth
are only brushed lengthwise, as Is gen
erally the case, the f'Ksl, Instead of be
ing brushed out, will lie more firmly
lodged than ever. You should keep a
skein of dental silk always U-slde you
to puss between the teeth and clean
them effectively from anything that
ha got between them which the tooth
brush canot reach. Great care must lie
taken of the gums, as if these become
spongy they are apt to recede from the
teeth and leave the roots exposed, and
decay sets In very rapidly In conse
uuence. If the gunm are kept In proicr
order the t-eth will remain healthy and
in good condition.
Gros grain silk is revived again
dressy gowns by matronly women.
Irish lace Is very ispular for yoken
ami eiaulette effiMis on foulard gowns,
and Is used in edging ami Insertion as
well.
Serpent skin Is n new trimming for
tailor made gowns, and It Is employed
for witlre revers and tiny bauds on the
(Mb revers.
'. Fancy little Isdero Jackets are made
of ecru linen, with a sailor collar across
the liaek, nnd .elalKiratcly umbroidcred
with gold thread.
Huffs of chiffon lace and ribtsm are
very fanhloiKi.ble In Paris, and they are
made high at the back, with long ends
Ui front and a deep floiuxw of chiffon
around the shoulders.
Women who have to make a special
point of combining use and beauty In
their gowns, and who for one reason or
another do not care for coats, are pleaa
ed with the new open-front Jaeketa
which are made of light-weight fab
rics, with meagre lining. The frock ia
made from Yale blue cauvaa doth ore
black taffeta silk. The waist la without
fitted lining, the silk being cut In the
same .pattern aa the ouUMe canvas
cloth. The blouse la bekl In placv at
the licit with a drawing string. Over
the hip la a smart frill, which cornea off
with Ukt bait; for the blouse oataoaa
iBakat the aklrt
for
SENATOR MORGAN AS A LAWYER.
An latcrr.liiiK Story t One of Ills
Legal Hattlcs aa Told by Himself.
Senator Morgan, 'of Alabama, b. widen
being one of the veterans of the Up
per House, is a very able lawyer. Many
grod stories are told of his legal acu
men and one of the best is narrated by
hiiiitelf.
Twenty years or more ago Morgan
was retained by three sisters. Their
mother had died, and no will could lie
found, although It was believed that
she had made one. In fact, the three
sisters claimed to have seen their
mother draw up her last testament.
The woue ti were placed on the stand,
but tneir testimony was conflicting, and
they did not agree on some of the main
jednts. The opposing counsel. Judge
I'.oyi.s, was quick to take advantage
of tiiis Important fact. In miuimin;
up. he said dramatically: "We fortuu
nti iy put these ladles on the stand, and
no two of Them agreed us to how that
v ill was written. They had It on all
forte of paper, and written with all
hinds of Ink ami pencil."
When It came Morgan's turn to reply,
he stepped to the front with a Rible in
his hand, and said: "I hold lu my hand
a book that I was taught to believe and
levereuce at my mother's knee. Gen
tlemen of the jury, I know that every
one of you learned to look upon Ihl sa-
cred volume with respect when a moth
er's 'holy love guided your youthful
footsteps. In this book I studied the
life. of the Master, and let me tell you
why I believe that the four gowpel
Irnvt- recorded the truth. It Is because
they differ In (ionic of their minor de-j
talis. If Matthew, Mark, Luke and
John got together to frame a fictitious
history, they would have been careful
to fix the details so as to exclude all
discrepancies.
"No.v; In Matthew, we read that
Ct.riht when on trial wn clothed with
a Bcarb't robe. In Mark, Luke and
John it Is recorded that be wore .1 pur
ple robe. In Matthew, Mark and Luke
we rend that one Simon of Cyrcne bore
the cfss to the place of crucifixion.
In John It Is written that Jesus bore
the etv.-ss himself. All differ as to iho
words written hIkvo flie cross. Mat
thew his it. 'TUiiis Is Jesus'; Mark, 'The
King of the Jews'; Luke, Tbls ls the
King of the Jews'; John, 'Jesus of Naz
areth, the King of the Jews.
"I say to you that These very dlffer
cueea stamp the gospels with divine
truth. Now, If these young ladles had
gotten together In colbHiion to teil a .
stor, of the writing of a will that never
existed, they would have agreed on all
the details. This would have Is-en
ihelr first thought. Their recollections
dlfer because the not of whlcii they
have testified occurred when their con Is
were troubled nt the death bed of their
beloved mother. A with the goselrJ
the discrepancies of their evidence .ire ,
il 11'I.iiiiiuiij lu llie llinu oi oui itjcjr
utter."
Senator Morgan won his can'.
Marriage in Ilurmah.
Marriage Is not a religious ceremony
among the Burmese, says a writer In
Blackwood. There is a ceremony, of
course, nut the only necessary ana
binding part of It Is that the couple
should, In the presence of witnesses
called together for the purpose, eat out
of the same bowl. A girl docs not
change her name. Family names are
unknown; there Is no Miss or Mrs. Ev
ery woman, married or single, has the
prefix Ma or MI. which are the same
word. Even as babies they carry this
prefix, and marriage does not alter It
marriage dis-s not alter her status In
any way. She keeps her own projier-
ty, ami any property she may acquire
subsequently Is also her own. Prop
erty acquired Jointly with her bus-
band Is held jointly. If you ask who
Is the owner of a garden, you may be
told It belongs to Mating Had Ma Nl,
the former Itelng the man's name nnd
the second that of his wife, and both
names are used frequently in business
and hgnl proceedings. But a man and
bis wife are not always In the same
business. They may have totally dif
ferent pursuits. One may be a culti
vator, the other a silk dealer; the man
may le a pleader lu court, the wife
may own brick-kilns outside the town
'I
rtT
Decline of the Folding lied.
The folding bed, once an ImmeuHebj
popular Institution. Is loslna its crrh. "
Not one Is called for now where two or
three years ago a dozen were ordered.
Two big factories we know of which a
very few years ago had difficulty In
keeping up with orders for folding ls-ds
even by working night ami day are
now making other lines of furniture,
nnd the folding bed production in nil
factories Is steadily declining.
The accidents which frequently oc
curred with the folding bed doubtless
had some bad Influence on Its popular
ity, but this was not the only disadvan
tage the innltum lu pnrvo furniture
hail to contend against. The licds were
heavy, clumsy affairs, even under the
most favorable conditions. Many are
bard to handle w ithout a derrick or a
yoke of oxeu, and they are also hard
to keep clean. Then also there Is an
increased call for lied of brass and
Iron. Such i'ds are practically the
only kind sold In England, and they
have steadily Increased In popularity
In this country during the last five .
years.
An Audience of One.
First thesplnn At our Inst stand the
theater (pk fire in the middle of the ,
third act.
Second thesplau Was there a panic
in the andlence?
First theapian-Oh, no. The uaber
woke htm no and ti.M hi,., u .
.... ,,,, ,i illuv
to go home. Yale Record.
Boy's ContrarintM
Er boy baa seen contrariness,
, Hit's cla' beyond control;
He wants de biggee' dumb-beH aa'
' De analles' hod o coaL ,
-Washlagtoa Star.
. -
it , .1 V , '
I.'
4-' . '
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