CHAPTER 1.
Lady Hilda Dunhaven wai sixteen
fear old when her father, the old earl,
luddenly died at a solitary place at Nor
folk known a Hurst Sea. Until his fif
tieth year the Earl of Dunhaven bad
spent his life in riotous living, then, more
for the purpose of baring a son to succeed
him in bis title, he married the nineteen-year-old
daughter of Joseph Bowden, who
had amassed a large fortune on the Stock
Exchange. But, instead of a son, a daugh
ter, Hilda, was born to him, and his dis
appointment was so great that be fairly
bated the infant and watched the little
Hilda growing into womanhood with su
preme indifference, if not neglect. His
wife died a few years after giving birth
to her child, and then the old earl let the
magnificent home of his forefathers, Ha
vendsle Park, and retired to Hurst Sea,
where, shutting himself out from the
world, he devoted the remainder of his
days to money grubbing, continually add
ing to his fortuue.
Under such circumstances Lady Hilda
grew up, never seeing any one but the
:wo servanis, Stephen Homes and his wife
Joan, and a faded spinster of fifty, Miss
Darwin, to whom was intrusted the en
tire charge and education of the young
girl.
And now the old earl was dead, found
tiff and cold in his bed. "He (Hid of
heart disease Miss Darwin informed the
now orpuaiied daughter. "Doctor Hud
son says that be has consulted biui sev
eral times about it. Everything has been
done for him i'ou would like to see him.
of course'"
"I do not know; 1 should be frightened.
1, think, Miss Darwin," she answered.
"Just as you like, my dear. You know,
ef course, what a great differein-e this
will make in your life. I have sent for
Lady Darel and Mr. Leonard Lord Dun
haven he will be now."
Lady Hilda looked at her with wonder
ing eyes.
L.aay narei: n no is sne.' v no is
Lord Dunliaven? I do not understand in
the least."
"Heaven forbid," sighed Miss Darwin,
"that I should any one evil word of the
poor dead carl, but he might have trusted
you a little more, his own child. He for
bade me ever to talk to you about family
affairs."
"He did not love me." said the girl,
sadly.
"No, he did not: he wanted a son. Mr.
Leonard Darel is the late earl's next of
kin and heir. He succeeds to the title and
estates. He will be the thirteenth Ear! of
Dnnhaven. Haveudale Park, Fair Oaks
and this house will go to him. He takes
your father's place. Lady Darel is the
young earl's mother," she added; "and 1
have heard that she is considered one of
the proudest women in England. Ah, my
dear, you have been of more consequence
to the world than the world has been to
you. Your life will all be changed now."
"Why?" asked Lady Hilda, suddenly.
"You will have your mother's fortune.
She had a very large one, and it is sure
to be yours now," ho it Miss Darwin. ;
"Lady Darel will, of course, take you
nnder her charge; she will bring you ont;:
you will take your proier place in the
world now."
Neither Lady Hilda nor Miss Darwin
thought of going to rest. At statyi in
tervals .loan brought them strong tea, and
there was a great deal said about "keep
ing up," and not breaking down. They
sat and watched through the long, silent
night.
It was strange on the next day to find
' the gloomy house even more gloomy, with
the darkened windows and closed doors,
with the awful presence of the King of
Terrors. Lady Hilda c..ld fain have
gone to the .-ea, would fain have listened
to what the waves had to say about her
new life, but Miss Darwin assured her it
must not be done; that if Lady Darel '
should come and find her out she would
be seriously displeased, and Lady Hilda
was compelled to yield.
Another long, silent day passed, and on
the morning of the next day tbey came.
Lady Hilda was alone in her room. She
heard Ihe sounds that announced the ar
rival, she heard the subdued voices, the
hushed footsteps, and she waited in a
fever of suspense. It seemed to her
hours before Miss Darwin came to her.
Then tlut self-atlsiiod lad,'- looked as if
she had been roused from her calm.
"Come quickly. Lady , iliida," she said.
"Lady Darel has asked to see you, a;id
we must not keep her waiting."
"What is sht like?" asked the young
girl, eagerly.
"Like no one 1 have ever seen. She is
magnificent, but proud as a queen proud
er than the bieen of Sileba herself, and
so beautifuliy dressed."
"I have never seen any one beautifully
dressed in all my life," said the young girl
with a sigh.
Then holding Miss Darwin's hand
tightly clasped in her own, she went to
the large, bare, ill-furnished room called
i by courtesy the drawing room. At first
ber eyes were dazzled. She saw a tall,
handsome woman of queenly presence and
fair, blonde beauty, superbly dressed, her
white hands shining with jewels, a lady
who looked up in haughty surprise tin she
entered, but neither moved nor addressed
her.
There were a few moments of awkward
lienor, then Miss Darwin said:
"lour ladyship expressed a desire to
Her iMiy Hilda she is here."
Then the arched eyebrows were raised,
and the proud eyes rested on the girl in
ilrut wonder.
"Iady Hilda." the repeated. In a tone
ef eurprise, "I beg pardon I had no idea,"
and the proud glance fell with significant
meaning on the shabby dress and the worn
bora. "Lady Hilda," she repeated, "pray
exeaae me, I was so entirely unprepared
lor-for this kind of thing."
8ho waited a few momenta before giving
ber band to the trembling girl, then bend
ing ber bead, ahe touched tbe pale face
with bar lip.
"Yew are aurprlaed to find me so badly
Ire surd a ad without an manners." aaid
Lady Hilda, calmly. "It ia not my fa nit;
I am aart'a daaghter. It ia true, btrx I
tare HfM tbe Usher girla."
Tea ma frarly," said her ladyship;
"Sat hi Mt taod mimh t moat art
CM fettiag f mm Aecaat drsaisa tt j
once. What could the earl have been
thinking about?"
Her face Mushed suddenly as they heard
the sound of footsteps.
"That is my son," she said. "Lord Dun-
haven."
The door opened, and a young man en
tered the room.
CHAPTER II
Half an hour had elapsed since Lady
Hilda first stood trembling before the
proudest woman in England. In a few
hurried words she had introduced the new
Lord Dunhaven to the late earl's daugh
ter. He had looked at her with eyes so
utterly indifferent that he had hardly seen
her; he did not give two thoughts to her
a school girl, who had just lost her
father a tall, slender, unformed girl. He
noted the coarse, ill-fitting dress and the
worn shoes; he noted the general want of
elegance, and no interest awoke in his
heart for her he merelv bowed.
He was the first young gentleman Lady
Hilda had seen his was almost the first
young face on which her eyes had rested
and it delighted her. The only emotion
that passed through his mind was one of
wonder that such a girl should be Lady
Hilda Dunhaven.
Lady Hilda stole away to the only spot
on earth where she felt at home. The
face of the restless sea was to her as the
face of an old and dear friend. Tbe waves
sang strange rhymes to her.
"You are a great heiress; your father is
dead; your life is all changed; the great
lady treats you with contempt. Y'ou have
seen a nice face a face you like," they
repeated over and over again without in
termission; yet it comforted her. She
could think more clearly by the sound of
the heaving, restless sea. She sat there
until the confusion become more clear,
until she was mistress of her own
thoughts, then she went home.
But as she was hurrying over the sand's
she met the yourig earl fat e to face, and
stood still with a sudden frightened cry.
But for the cry in all probability he
would not have noticed her; as it was, he
stood still and looked at her.
"You will not tell that you have met
me?" she said. "I thought no one would
know."
He laughed carelessly.
"1 might be more interested in the mat
ter if I knew who you were," he said.
Then she raised her fair young face,
and he looked at it with smiling indiffer
ence. "Do you not know me?" she asked, and
the thought crossed her mind that she had
only seen him once. Yet she would have
know n him anywhere and in any place.
"No, I do not indeed," he replied.
"Ought 1 to know you?"
"1 am Lady Hilda Dunhaven." she an
swered, and in one moment his manner
completely changed; tbe smiling indiffer
ence became constraint, lie raised his
hat and bowed deferentially to her.
I beg your pardon," he said, and the
very tone of his voice had changed; "but
why are you out here, and alone?"
'You will not tell?" she replied, hur
riedly. "Lady Darel would be cross. I
should not like her to know."
I will not tell, as you ask me not," was
the grave reply; "but I should very much
like to know what brought you here, if
you will trust me."
"I have been to the sea," she replied.
Whenever I feel very unhapnv I go
there. Some people have living friends
the only friend I have is the sea."
hy are you frieudless?" he asked.
"To answer that question wouid be to
tell you the story of my life," ahe re
plied, "and that would not interest you.
Another few minutes on the yellow
sands, a silent walk across the green
sward, and they stood by the little side
door from which Lady Hilda generally
went. I hen he raise.! his hat and stom
liefore mr with careless grace and negli
gence. Had she been a young queen h
1 1 ... i . . I. . .
room hoi nave ireareu ner wit ji greater
respect, or more distantly. She looked ii
n:s haiift:-:iu. nv;,;:g that he v,ould
speak to her again -that he would talk to
her. Almost inclined to cry out to him
that she had never seen any young man
like himself that she was more lonely
than any other creature living; yet, child
as she was. pride stopped the words on
her lips. He bowed to her.
let me advise you, he said, "not to do
this hind of thing again. It is very ro
mantic, but very unsafe."
She looked at him with gleaming eyes.
Should you know me now, she asked.
it you met me again
"No," he answered. "It is dark; I can
not see your face. .ow good-niglit, uiy
little kinswoman. .
"Slay one moirent." he said. "Yon an
Lord Diinhavi :i now. in my father's place,
are you not ,'
"Yes," he answered
of impatience.
with a slight ting
"It seems strange," she said. "He lies
dead and no one seems to care for him
inn have his title; all that belonged to
him goes to others. Yet no one seems to
give one thought of regret. Is it so al
ways? Does no one ever love or sorrow
for the dead?"
"You ask me such strange questions,"
tie replied. "As a rule, men die as thev
have lived. If they have won love, or
oeservp it, it follows them in dpath."
CHAPTER III.
Then came the day when the earl, in
accordance with his own wish, expressed
long before he died, was buried in the
churchyard of Hurst Sen. Few attended
the funeral, the rector, the doctor, the
yonngearl, the family solicitor, Mr. Pres
ton; they all returned to the gloomy house
when it was over,
"Of course, reading the will is but a
farce," said the young ear! to his lady
mother; "let us get it over quickly: this
place gives me the horrors."
"Of course he has left yon money; he
knew you had none," said f.adv Darel.
"I know for r er..lu thnt he hr.d'rhe free
control of bla late wife's large fortune.
Some one was telling me the other day
that it waa worth at least two hundred
thousand pounds now."
They watt interrupted by a summons
to fha library, where Mr. Preston awaited
than with the late earl's will in his band.
They war all atartlrd when tbe door
opened tod Lady Hilda entered: they had I
expected to ee S child, for Stlch he Hit
in the opinion of each one, but the slender
girl, clsd in a diip mourning dns, had
lost something of her girlish look. Her
young f'a:c siione out, white and fright
ened; the s.id, sweet eyes were tilled with
fear, and Hot even the faiutesl rose color
made its way into those pale lips.
Mr. Preston placed a chair for her, and
then proceeded to unfasten the will. He
was a lawyer, not given to sentiment;
but something like pity stirred within bim
as he looked lit the dexolate girl -the sad
young face, 'he heavy, weary eyes.
Then he began to read. The late earl
had iu some respects dune his duty. He
had left handsome legacies to Joan and
Stephen Homes, his faithful followers;
he had left twenty pounds to Lady Darel,
that she might buy a mourning ring. To
his daughter, Hilda Dunhmen there was
uo pretense of calling her beloved to her
he left the whole of her mother's fortune,
on one condition that nit bin twelve
mouths afier his death she married his
heir, iA-onard, Earl Dunhaven. If she
refused to marry him within this stated
time the motley was to be divided between
different charitable institutions, aud she
was to have one hundred a year for life;
if she consented to the marriage and Ix.rd
Dunhaven refused his consent, the money
was to lie by at interest and descend to
his children. In no case and under no
circumstances was the money to belong to
the young earl.
The lawyer read out, in his grave, deep
voice, the words traced by the dead earl's
hand.
"Tell my daughter for me that there has
beeu uo pretense of love between us; I
wanted a sou she came iu his stead. The
only way, it appears to me. in which I can
set matters right, is by ordaining the mar
riage of the man who inherits my title
with my daughter, who should, in strict
justice, inherit her mothers money. I
have no money of my own to leave, but
by my own efforts I have almost doubled
the fortune my wife left to me. By these
means the money and the title will go to
gether. Tell my daughter from me that
she mast no' refuse: that if she refuses,
I shall not rest even in my grave "
A sudden cry interrupted him. The g;rl
had sprung from her seat, ami stood be
fore them with uplifted hands.
Not rest in his grave.'" she cried. "h,
what shall I do? Would he come back to
me all white and cold as I saw him?"
Her whole figure trembled with fear;
her white face quivered. Mr. Preston has
tened to her and took the trembling bands
in his.
My dear young lady," he said, "pray
calm yourself; those are but idle words.
Every man rests iu his grave, because it
is the will of heaven that he should do so.
"ou must have been terribly frightened."
He saw that she was beside herself with
ea r.
"I am frightened," she snid. "U'her
v r I go, by day or by nigh;, in darkness
or light, I see that face before me. white
and cold."
Then Lady Darel rose from her seat.
aud going to the terriiied girl, sat down
by her side.
Hilda." she said, "this is either cow
ardice or love of sensation. Both are
quite unworthy of a Dunhaven: let us
have no niore of it. You have interrupt
ed the reading of the w ill."
Her proud manner quieted the young
girl and subdued the rising hysteria. Th
lawyer continued :
I wish my daughter to rnarrv Iord
Dunhaven on her seventeenth birthday;
until then I wish her to reside with Lady
I'.ir-i. iurmg uie year oi ner residence
Lady Darel is to receive the sum of three
thousand pounds for the expenses she
must incur. I leave five hundred pounds
for my daughter s trosseau. and repeat
again my urgent command that in this
matter she obeys me."
That is all. said Mr. Preston, as he
folded ep the papers, while the three most
concerned looked bewildered at each oth
er. "The most charitable thing we can say
is that the late earl was mad," said Lord
Duuhaven.
CHAPTKIt IV.
The picture of the gloomy house, the
bare, ribbed sand, the dull, gray sea, went
with Lady Hilda from the old life to the
new; went with her to the end of her
days. She stood on (he morning of her
departure from Hur.-t Sea, bidding fare
well to the sea, her only living friend.
The journey from Hurst Sea to Inidoti
was Lady II. Ida's first experience in life.
This was the world then-Hashing bright,
gay of music and perfume, full of color
and warmth, full of laughter and song
this was the world she had dreamed of iu
her gray, silent home.
Then they reached Ixmdon, and it was
well for Lady Hand's peace of mind that
surprise and astonishment had made the
young girl speechless. The vast size of
the great city, Ihe crowds of people, Ihe
endless line of lights, all hew iMep-d her
and struck her dumb. Iidy Darel began
to congratulate herself on having taught
her charge something of g.,od manners at
last. She had seen London, yet had no
questions to ask.
-n-tVr - !c r.i.I Lai- Hildr h-gui to
grow accustomed to h r new life. Lady
Dar J vo'j'd in ve every ;nng en regie for
her. She purchased a very pretty aud ex
tensive wardrobe for her: she hired a
fashionable lady's maid, thinking little
and caring less for the torture this must
inflict on her protege; she purchased a
horse and insisted that she should lake
riding lessons.
She worked as few girls work. In after
life she called this her transition year.
She passeil from a lonely, miserable child
hood into a gay and brilliant girlhood. She
was industry itself; she rose and worked
until it was late. She studied music and
drawing, she took lessons in dancing.
Even Lady Darel, so difficult to please,
was compelled to praise her, and say that
she was doing well.
One by one the months passed, and the
great hojie of her life had not come to her
no one loved her. She was urged al
ways by Lady Darel to remain in the
drawing room when visitors came, so she
made many friends, but they were simply
acquaintances of the hour. She liked some
of them, and disliked others; but no one
had said yet, "I love you, Hilda." Yet
day by day, this longing for love increas
ed. Between herself and Lady Darel
there came an armed peaceas for ex
pecting love from that proud and stately
lady, she never ventured lo think of if.
The only person she had seen yet whom
she filt i:ici',i,l to loro v.i.s the insn
whom ber father's will compelled her to
marry. She bad never seen him since
they parted on the sands at Hurst Hea.
He had written to Lady Darel, telling- ber
that he bad gone to Join some frienda on
a cruta to Norway, that he did not etpert
to return until the year waa ended, then
he should dedda whether be woald to to
Australia or raaaln In Englaad. Of oe
he
w:
elite
!1
sere-be v oi,; I uner
V; Di.nh,.eu.
i
Dai el
barge, v1j.i
tutVirg of this t' t:
:,.!,. , red .' ly .'.
why she did not see the lari. See
the qiii-stion at l.mt. and L.i.ly Dri
not sorry mat st;e ii:n so.
"Where is Lord DarihsrnV
she k:i 1
"Why does he not ouie to ce you
"My son has gone with -tin
N..rav." was the brief rt;y
fru lids to
and eVt n
that set her heart quite at ri st.
She knew nothing of a lover's love, this
neglected girl: she wove no romance about
the handsome earl; she did not fancy her
self in k,ve with him: but he had been kind
to her. and she loaned to see him again.
He had made the only gleam of brightness
iu her life, aud she longed for home.
She uas simple and innocent as a child.
Siie never forgot that she was to marry
him. but of married life she knew nothing.
Talk to her of love, she understood; she
was keenly alive, keenly sensitive; talk
to her of marriage, her ideas were all j
vague and unformed. Lady Darel was I
true to her trust, as in her proud way she j
would be true to anything. She never!
tried to influence the girl: she never men-1
tioned ihe marriage to her: iu her own)
mind she had n it decided whether she had 1
wished for it or not. She went to the
young girl's room one morning.
"Hilda, when are you seventeen?"
"(in the second of June. Lady Darel,
was the answer.
"My son conies home on the Udth of
May; then, I suppose, we shall have this
business settled. Have you thought of
it, Hilda?"
The fair, girlish face drooped, while hot
blushes came over it.
"I have thought of it. but it seems to
me like a dark dream from which I dread
waking," she replied, and Lady Darel
"aid no more; "dark dreams" were not iu
her line.
(To be continued.)
A Child's Uyinii.
At the time of the terrible accident
a year or two ago at 1 lie coal mines
iiciir Scranton. Ph.. several men were
buried for three davs, and nil efforts
to rescue t hetn proved unsuccessful.
A spectator wrote: "The majority of
the miners were Hermans. They were
ill a state of Intense excitement, on used
by sympahty for the wives ntul chil
dren of the buried men mid despair at
their own baulked efforts. A great
mob of ignoraut men nud women as
sembled at the month of the mine on
tile evening of the third day in a con
dition of high nervous tension which
tit ti.il ilicm for any mad act. A sullen
murmur arose lliat It was folly to di;;
farther, that tbe nieii were dead: ami
tins WiiS ioi:ov.eil by cries oi luge ni
the rich mine ow ners, w ho were in no
v;ty responsible for tin- accident. .V
hasty word or gesture might have pro
duced nu outbreak of fury. Standing
near whs u little German girl, perhaps'
eleven years old. Her pale
frightened glances from si.
facH and i
to side!
i bowed that she fully undcrstoiHl tile
t'l us
hidii
Ls.
youn,
danger of the moment. Suddenly,;1 '
with a great effort, she began to sing i "Th-at's tbe last of that. Mr. Smith; I
in a hoarse whisper, which could not W''U Klmply wont to su w a Ilttleln there
lie heard. Then she gained courage, j now. I declare you' hare mngnltioetit
and lur sweet childish voice rang out enamel, Mr. Smith; it actually turned
in Luther's grand old hymn, familiar the eUre of one of my largest saws,
to every (Jernmti from his cradle, .
Mighty Fortress Is Onr (Jod. There
was a silence like death. Then una
voice joined tlie girls, awl present v
-
another and another, until the whole ' which have been designed, especially
great multitude were singing. A great, In the biM ten years. Such as tbe au
qniet seemed to fall upon their hearts. tomiUic hammer, the electric wheel,
Tbey resumed their work with fresh the double elge saw and (lie three
zeal, and la-fore morning the Joyful pronged excavator. I've put soiiiethlnaf
cry came up from the pit that the men j In now that will kill tbe nerve. Yes,
were found alive. Never was a word ! there ia apt to ! more or lesa Irritation
more
hymn.'
iu season than that child's
Tough Scorpion.
An English army ofllcer. whose regi
ment was stationed at Alahabad, was
one morning putting on his boot when
suddenly be felt a sharp prick. Ho
knew at once what the trouble was.
Within a few days several scorpions
had Im-cd seen about tbe barracks.
Without question one of then) had
taken up lis quarters in his lsiot and
had now slung him.
"Well," be muttered, "the harm Is
done, ami I may as well kill the crea
ture. It will get away If I take the
Idiot off."
So he began slumping violently with
a view lo crushing tin; life out of the
scorpion. Every stamp gave him ex
quisite torture, but lie kept bravely at
It till lie felt sere tie- i !lfi- r::-.i.;t isj
d-ad. Then lie pulled off the Isiot ami
was both relieved and vexed. It waa
lucky he had not shouted for assist
ance. Tin scorpion was a blacking
brush, which hi wrvant bad cureless
!y l'-ft in the Isittom of t!i- l.oi.
Consolation.
Many are the lab s of miserly men
aud tbe witticisms which their failing
drew forth. Every one knows (he
Hlory of the wealthy man who desired
his son to bury with blm a large por
tion of Ids fortune. The son was more
astute than his fattier, for lie drew a
check for the remit red amount mid
placed it 111 the coflln with the remark
that "ihe governor was always a rare-
fed man and never carried
money
alxuit."
Another tale la this: The departing
Croesus wiih a clergyman, .who had
paid more attention to the laying up of
treasure on earth than in heaven. In
his last days he wan carefully tended
by a faithful Imdy aervnnt.
"Ah, Tom," he said to bin servant,
"so I must ko and leave all my gold
and silver behind me."
"Ay, sir," replied Tom, "there's no
help for thnt. But. then, you don't
mind; if you take it, it would only
melt"
A Ilrlatfct Dog.
Hlgson I once possessed a splendid
Aoft who could always dlntlnulsh be
twten a vutfaboud and a resectable
person.
Jlgson Well, what's become of blm T
Hlgson Oh, I waa obliged to give
him away. He bit me. Tld-riila.
Our Idea of a tnouxtitfnl far-aeem
man la on who fat tin towala ready
btfora b a'apa Isto a tab.
DENTISTRY IS NOW PAINLESS.
I
:o tho Prnctltlonrr II-llrve, hat
l ot at ih'nk cthr
'It
Should any siligle man tie twaied up
on as taking the tiioM pride In the evo
lution of bis culling it would nndouU
idly be the dentist. He Imn more new
toe-Its than lie know what io do with.
He fd.-hs like a furnace for the umtiber
if teeth that might have le-n ka'.ed iu
tin- Inst -i'! yeans If people had known
what is uniwi sally d'fTiwa-d to-day.
lie lf vote all of his nmr? time ; u
laiiiitf an to the prulnildp means that
the earlier Saxons ustii to extract their
molar, coming generally to the rather
painful conclusion that they niunt have
knocked them out. But hla pet theory
Is thnt physical mfferir.g lias practical
ly U-u eliminated from modern den
tistry. In the office of a downtown dentist
the following dialogue is'tween bis pa
tient and liimwlf took place- a few
days ago:
"Xif, sir. we've got It down now so
that tin re's practically no such thin
as pain iu dentistry."
"Ii: ice 1."
' "Yes. sir; if you'll Jwt la-rM your
head over the edge of the cliair so lial
I can get a little more leverage on that
tooth. Rattier trying jsdtlon, lint it's
remnrkjible how bunt you, did It?
Mayl I got my excavator up a littl
loo far."
"That waa awful, doi-tor! It fell an
though my betid was grdug to burst
right ofs'ii."
"Yes:, you see tbe nerve distance la
ho Nho;i bilvvccu lln' tooth and ihe
braii: "
"Doctor! I can't hland It! I believe
I'll conic another day."
"Hurt you a gxwl d'-al, did It? Well,
you see, that was Iveiiuse I broke a
little piece of the tooth off. lilH as I
I wafi
wiving, the way people used to
suffer when tbey were imving thlr
tenth fixed was terrible.
Why, I lc-
member even w hen I was a lioy
"IM-toT, Hint was ferirftil! I'm
O!
Ah!"
"Yew, I exjM-ted you'd feel that. Tin
Jierve is a little xposxi right there.
But do you know people usiil to mifTcr
for weeks with toothache rather than
go to a dentlt, and you couldn't blaiiu;
tbi'in. Why, sixty years ago If you
had a tsrJi like that"
"I hoe you have no one dowiiKtalrs
who will 1h dis-turlx'fl by my groans."
"do right aU'fld. srir, the ofliee below
Is empty. You are standing it mag
nificently. 1 randy got a man who
dix'Hii't -ojnplaln when I use the au!o
iikatie hammer on Win. although renlly
It Icii't half so lis id as the elec'rie
wh-l
"Hy dnrgc. ibx-tor, I'll faint if that
'1'"'" ' '
gone through with again.
but as I was saying, surgery Is nothing
to it. The progress that baa N-en made
In dentistry Is almost beyond belief.
l ny. iook at tne new mm rumcnta
look
the-re for a little while, rix or seven
hour, but when one thinks of the palti
that our ancestors uj.el to hove in get.
ting their teeth fixed, it'a enough to
make us truly tlinnkful thnt we live In
this age."
But by this time tbe patient was
hurrying toward the nearest drug store j
for aoiue opium pill. j
The My til of tbe Phoenix. i
The phoenix of tin' ntic'ciiM was a j
nible blnl, with jro!b-:i feathers about i
ita tus k, while its b-siy was of a rich !
purple hue. it tall whit- mi.ed with j
red, yes like dia-noiiil-i and its he.i.I !
Burmoitiited by a magnificent crest. The i
phoenix lived usually from ,Vit lo (K)0 J
years. As Ihe end approached ;t built j
for it-lf a fun. i;i! pile of wood audi
aroma t ! wplcei, w!.j. b jt fanned itit.j i
a blaze with Its wi:i,gs ami thus con-j
bujiiwI itM-'f. I-'roiu the ashes a worm '
wa prt.iliicisl, out of w iri-li another;
phisi'Jilx wa formed, tb" lirst c-ire off
which wa-s to solomji!,-' lis pa rent's j
olsjequlesi. A Ixill of myrrli, fninkln-
renne mid oilier fragrant things wa j
Tonned (ppi the hap" of an i-gg. This
ball was taki ii o-i Hie shoulders of thu
phoenix and inrried to Heliopoi's, in
Iiwer Egypt, w txfe was a magnifi
cent ti inple dcdh-aled Io the sun. Here
the ball was burnt upon 111- altar, ami
then the ncw-liorn phoenix was ready
for aiiottier life of five or nix ccuturhtf,
A Celebrated (slant.
- ('orneliiui MagratJi. the ce.lebni.b-d
IrUh giant, wa lsrn hi 1737 and at Jie
njre of 1H measured (i feel. He was an
orphaJi, brouht up by the phllonophot
licrkeley, bWliop of Cloyne, who waj
iwtjMctel of dabliJtn In the black art,
ami a rVli-uliw story obtained cie
b-iK-e that tbe great height of Ma(rrnth
Vila the ruH of a court- of exjieri
nenlaJ fei-dltiK and the imbibing of
iiagtr jxrtioim. TbJn Ktmnga laJ Imd
loubtkwH no tK'tter foundation lu fact
fliAA that the jfood bishop opined that
food Uvkn aiul tonWn are tti bcl
Hmjm of biiUdtnK up the enUtutkin
f overgrown youth. Re that an 1
nay, Marat.h ateallly IncreaweO in
tifftb arid strength, k1 at the ae of
10 rrmaaured 7 feet 8 tiwhe. Tbe kej.
rtn rf the "rat IrWih gVint" k pre
(erred kn tle munetim of Trinity Col.
e, DubJAn.
revolution of Kngllah Children.
A modern father baa evolved tlie fob
owing excellent dfljiltlon of modern
Iblidran: "UatU 8 tbejr are a piaaanira;
(ram 8 to 14 tbay uw latcrcattakf ; and
Iran 14 upward thay an dlaairanalili
icq OAta tsar aa wttfe a oUlm upoa qm,"
-London Truth.
!
J
i Vhnrni and lis Effects.
j Even at this late day there may 1m
! Occasionally found an Individual who
I Joubts the value of bli-yi le exercise. Of
! course, Hin b people re scarce and
'growing fewer every day. One of
them was airing bis views in a New
York clubhouse, claiming that tbe
world would yet Ik- sorry for allowing
(lie w heel to take Jiossessloii of It (o
such an extent. Included In bis tiradn
was a general statement regarding tbo
expense incident to keeping a bicycle.
A wheelman listened to the bill of par
ticular!) and then declared that the
$HW) be paid for bis wheel was mote
than unveil in one season's riding. Tills
statement was so sweeping as to call
forth contemptuous miorts from the
previous: speaker ami even caused
doubtful tieadhaklngH among other
wheelmen present. Tbe young man
who made tbe statement stuck to It.
however, and It was Anally agreed to
leave the matter to a committee select
ed from members who would lie sure
lo thoroughly examine the subject. The
committee devoted one or two after
noons to the work and then brought In
the following surprising report:
Ilxpense for six months
Post of wheel fHX) HO
lien! bioio 5 INI
Most approved bell
1 Is)
1 .VI
.VI
10 IHI
0 KI
4 ,V"
;i i ni
7 (HI
It i)
1 (HI
4 (Ml
KM
111)
,T (H)
.1 (SI
2 7.')
flood cyi lometer
i !r ''"l-s
Ulcyclc nut ,
liieycle Iiead wear
Itieycle shoes
I'ieycle stockings ,
l'wo swf liters
J'w o pairs gloves ,
Three punctures repaired..
line new lire
pumping of tires
j-'oot pump
''becking bicycle
liieycle overhauled
Oils and fittings
Total
Saved in six mouths
I'.ailroad fares $!" ')
I 'iff eretiee in clothing 3o 'H
i'ar fare saved !' 10
Theater tickets saved ,'i'J (10
("lowers saved lo 1KI
I'andy saved 17 .V
Less outlay for cigars INI -bl
Less strong drink 2 (HI
Difference in laundry I! .VI
t'arriage hire saved 10 (Si
Total
In favor of bicycle
Tills finding surprise!
who claimed that tbe
money savor. As for
?liS2 lo
V2S !.-
; even the man
wheel was a
the party who
had lx-en declaiming against the popu
lar pastime, he Is believed to have been
forever fdlenccd so far as that subject
is concerned.
Hike for Picnic ltnr.
If you enjoy summer picnics you can
make a very nice "carrier" for the fam
ily lunch basket by fastening two
wheels together with dliigonala. These
CVIUUKK.
need be no more substantial than wil
low strips, or I hey ca" lie metal bars.
It Is Is-! to have a mechanic fasten
these logcilier the first time and lit
v I'h adjustable fastenings ho the car
rler can be taken off. The basket U
suspended from a cross piece of lt
own.
Ilnut'n for Wheelmen.
I on't scorch.
Don't ride until depressed.
Don't think you own the stp-ets.
Don't drink Immediately after meals.
Don't drink alcoholic lM-verages dur
ing long rides.
Don't forget to give a new cycllsi
plenty of nsiin.
Don't ring your Is-ll except to glvt
notice of your approach.
Don't coast down hills having crosi
Htreets along the way.
Don't ride at the expense of nerve,
muscles and Internal organs.
Don't nt tempt to accomplish feats foi
which the isxly Is not prepared.
Don't attempt to ride rapidly by fln
electric car xtamlliiK to unload passen
gcl-H.
Don't forget In turning content to thi
left always keep to the outside of lh
Htreet.
Don't let your pride force you to keef
up with tlie balance when you fee)
tired.
Don't expect edt-KlrlHnH to get out ol
your way. Make It your business u
find a way around them.
Don't forget tlie wh-l Is master and
not the slave when the hand of th
rider Is unsteady and the slghi
dimmed.
Don't fall to remember In tinning
corners to the right to keep as far hi
s,sslble without trespassing on tbe lefi
side of the road.
Don't overlook ihe important cour
teay when maetlng other cycllata, pa
destrlans and vehicle keep to tht
right. In overtaking and passing then
kaep to tha left
"if -A'V h-&ii
A HA.VPV "