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About The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 13, 1898)
IV 7 1 1 J?S' j''"rj"- - CHAPTER XIII. (Continued.) She lifted her eyes and looked at him exquisite eyes, wet now with blinding tan, under their thick, shining lashes. "Heaven forgive you, Dulcie! You might hare rested content with the first part of your work. You need not hare come here to wreck the last hope of peace that was left to me," the young fellow groaned, smiting his hands together with a fore that made her start. "How eould I tell." she cried, "that I . should meet yon here? Don't you know that I would have died yes, died!" with rising sob, "before I would have seen you again if I could hare helped it?" "Didn't Esther tell you?" "She told me she was engaged to be married; that was all. And when I came here she showed me your likeness, and I . never knew till then"--stopping an in stant to catoj her breath "that it was Br that It wa you she was going to man?', and now let me go!" for he stood between her and the door drawing her self op, and trying to look unconcerned . and majestic. "Dulcie!" and be held out his hands to her with a sudden tenderness and pas sion. But she pushed them from her, and ran out of the room and upstairs, not pausing to look behind her. Was she afraid that his eyes would have drawn her back and into those yearning arms if he did ? As she got to the top of the stairs, Mrs. Hardinge opened her room door and look ed out. "Oh, it's you, fs it?" dryly. "I thought we had thieves In the bouse when first I beard the voices! Late, ura't it, for a tete-a-tete?" "I went down for my purse," Dulcie aid. "Year "And I haTe got It all right! Good night." "Good-night or good-morning, I sup pose it is by this time." ft,...- CHAPTER XIV. The next morning Dulcie was up be timsn and dressed in one of her smart est gowns, with her shining hair coiled daintily. She was good to see as she came into the breakfast room. Mrs. Har ding? was not down, only Mr. Hardinge . and Hugh Fleming; so Dulcie presided at table., Percy Stanhope was nowhere to v seen, and she dared not trust her tongue to ask for him. When Mrs. Hardinge did come dow -She cm in the very best of humors. "Where ia Percy?" she asked at once. "Off for a waUs an hour ago," her bus 1and told her. "Oh!" with a chill smile. "We used to bear that 'early to bed was early to rise;' but K seems he can rise early even if he it np half the night before." Dulcie felt her cheeks crimson. ' "I'll pay you off for that, my lady," she aaid to herself, with a little frown of dis gost, After an early luncheon Mrs. Hardinge -ordered the pony carriage, and drove to meet the afternoon train for the city. Very thankful Dulcie was to see her go. JVrcy Stanhope bad not come back, and be bad ceased to expect him. The house was Terr quiet and very stuffy. She bad promised to meet Julian Carre that At teruoon in Elton lane, but she had two hours clear before her ere that. What should she do with herself all that time? The question was answered for ber, for while she stood at the drawing room window, yawning and looking out weari-j ly, the Harvey carriage dashed up, and Esther herself got out, looking as cool and pale aa if there were neither sun nor dust in the world. Dulcie daubed the window open, and ran down to the gate to meet ber. "I am so glad you have come" hold ing both bands out, and lifting ber month . to be kissed. "And I am so glad to be here." "Now tell me everything," Dulcie rn , listed, when Esther bad taken her things off, and was resting cozily on the sofa. "I don't know that there is much to telL They were all very kind to me, and tie boose ia something splendid the kind of bona ooe rends about, yon know. The pictures are lovely. And then the plate, . and the old china, and the gorgeous little knkk-knacks. I never knew there were neb exquisite things in the world." "Ah!" Dulcie sighed. "And you might , have been mistress of it If I had only the chance now!" Dalcie. sitting upright on her low chair, nook ber curly bead solemnly. , "Words fail me, my dear Etty. But let a be brief, and not harrow your feelings by no necessary delay. The dresses have , Esther burst out laughing, Dulcie join tag ka; then a deep flush stole from chin "Wbt would I not give," poor Dulcie tboofbt, "to be able to blush like that at the mcatlon of my wedding dress,"' Tbo drosses wore in Mrs. Hardinge' s private altting room; it waa quite crowd oil wit tbo long pocking cases in which tbaaw preciosa garments bad come from (earn. Tfcey wore handsome dresses-, and It ia prosomed they were fasbiona ;, tA or Mm Harding would not have .1om tfcam Ost, la particular, took Laths fancy. It was black velvet, ; VtCk a tow, Jqoare bodice, trimmed with . old la, felling downward from it. - AJs rtw eaame only to tae elbows, and UJ kaoe rcSaa, soft and ehmdy. But the " frct2a aVaaal Dwudo lifted It out al ' I rt PMWlTy, aad ayeead It over the WO. It wee vatiM, af ooiao white, ttzXr-rmM, Tt tea aera the -r- r f fMsf asfcaad with trail i--t ' iy, fate fwa de , -j I ooe wooJd e- , JAZt fed at a swaga .tor i .. it'i' ; vim MA ' A S T .rrWLri. m"-:3 -..w - - - - he as she had never realized it yet that the day was actually close at hand now, on which she would take the vows of a wife upon her, and begin, with Percy, the new life that their love was to make so happy on to the very close. The color came and went in hel cheeks, her lips trembled. It was not so much the beauty of the dress, as the beauty of the life that would begin for ber the day she should wear it, that made the girl's heart beat, and ber veins throb, and that rush, as of keen pain that waa almost intolerable, sweep over her. Dulcie guessed ft all, and turned away to pick out fresh treasures from the cases. Her heart ached, oh, so horribly! She could have sat down in the midst of all this bridal finery, and cried some of the bitterest tears of ber life. But that would never do. Instead of that she smil ed and talked, and bustled about like a gay little curious fairy. At that moment a servant knocked at the door. "Mr. Stanhope's compliments, Miss Es ther, aud could you come down stairs to see him, please?" "Don't touch the dress," Esther called out at the door as she swept down stairs to see him. She waa not many minutes away, and when she came back she horrified Dul cie by insisting on putting on the dross. "Oh, Etty darling, don't do it," Dulcie cried, starting np from her knees, where she had been smoothing out the plait ing on the shining skirt. "It's so awfully unlucky! Do listen to reason. No one erer did such a thing" solemnly "that did not come to grief." But Esther could not be turned from her purpose. Laughing, and blushing, and trembling a little In ber shy, nervous haste, she put the dress on, and Dulcie, with something like a throb of dismay at her heart, helped her to do it She tied back the long train, and buttoned np the tight sleeves, which looked, when tbey were closed, aa if tbey bad grown on to the round, plump arms. Then she went down, because Etty would have ber go, and saw the look of rapturous admiration that came like a flood of sunshine into Percy Stanhope's blue eyes at sight of this white vision that lingered in the shade of the doorway for a second, as if afraid to enter and face his gaze. Poor Dulcie! There are auch things as looks that hurt worse than blows, just as there are words that cot keener than knife blades! For an instant, spirit and flesh failed her. A shade of the agony rhe was enduring fell over her face. Percy Stanhope, looking past his intended, saw this mute reproach in her eyes and on her lips, and understood it But it was only for an instant. One cannot cry out when one's hurt to this world of grown-up men and women. The next moment she was smiling and shaking hands with him, in the most nonchalant manner possible. "Do you know, Mr. Stanhope, that I am very angry with you both; you for asking, and Etty for granting, such an unreasonable request Have you never beard that it's unlucky to try on a bride's dress before the wedding day?" "I never have heard it, Miss Levesque, but if I had, I should not have heeded. I should still have braved the ill-luck, and felt myself well rewarded." There was no mistaking the tenderness in his voice as he said it DuJcie was far too keen to mistake It. This "white love" of his, as he often called her, was so beautiful that bis heart thrilled at sight of ber; so beautiful that he longed for the hour to come that should niake her his own, so that she might win him forever from this other love, that only lived in his heart to tear it and wound it with vain passion. "Well," Dulcie laughed, "I have warned you both, but, since you will not be-d my warning, I shall waste no more of my val uable time upon you." CIIAPTEB XV. A lurid sunset over Briertou Wood. The birds were twittering restlessly. There was the low, complaining "sough" of the trees to be beard over the fret and dash of the river. The little stream was brim med to the top of its banks, and swept by in no gentle mood, to make Its leap over the face of the old weir. The light was low and brooding, with more of a sullen glare than brightness in It. All the fresh ness bad died out of the air. Dulcie Levesque, standing upright as a dart on the plank bridge, which waa lit tle more than a foot wide, acrosa the wat er, noted these signs of a coming storm with keen Impatience. She was not afraid of the storm itself, but of the remarks it would occasion if she were out in it Opposite to ber stood Percy Stanhope. She had come to the wood that afternoon to meet Julian Carre, and, to her deep chagrin, she had come face to face with her old lover instead. And he waa in no very pleasant mood, either. He was In clined to take upon himself n lecture and dictate to Dulcie. He had seen her that past day with her head on Julian Carre's shoulder, and be was wroth indeed with her for it. "It was not pnident," h il. "It was not even lady-like." "What right have yon to talk to me like that?" Dulcie cried out at last, roused to Indignation by bis reproaches. "What ia it to you what I do, or with whom I walk? I consider yon are very Imperti nent." , "Yon do well to call me that," waa his bitter retort. "Do you think you ore noth ing to me? Do yon think that aa long as I live I bail erer forgot what you once were to me?" -I think yea had better." "It's of no tase, Dvlcie; I can't stand this ay loafer. I will not try to giro yoo Um leokosl m at him, aai afcraak a r wader the tare flew ate eyee. fj fifed t acaw bar baad away ud KS mrr t bias, tat aM 4 v ,7.ut waa Mw wawtna sul ti fc rral em mod la tsra ilfM-ned litf. .i'-r luiil slit ui-fieu it more. "I ilou't unnt to fr'g!:en you. Dulcie," Percy Suiihojie tent n. in that lovr, di'gged lone so unlike his natural voice. "I don't want to distress you in sny way. I't us look st things fairly and calmly. This marriage can't go on, that is cer tain. You must s-e thut yourself." She gaxXd and shivered, drawing away as far from him as the narrow plauk would let hi-r. "It is hard on us all, hesven knows. I would as txn die almost, as gire such pain to Etty:" and his voice quivered with a sudden inflection of tenderness that seemed the keenest moekerv In Dulcie's ' ears; "but she would never forgive me 1 If I married her with this love for jou burning my heart out" "Oh, Percy," the girl cried out. "why are you so cruel to me? Yon are talking like a madman: I believe you are mad. It's rather late in the day, I think, to be gin to talk ubout this marriage pot going on." "Better late than -ever" gruffly. "Better never than so late in this case!" she cried, vehemently. "You love her. Do you think I am blind? Why, I knew that you loved ber the first hour I saw you both together. You were happy enough then. You never gave a thought to me. You will be happy enough when lam away." She had moved away from him to the edge of the frail, swaying plank. The river flowed rapidly past, so rapidly that her eyes ached as she watcbed it, and a faint, sickly feeling stole around her heart and made ber bead swim. The sky had turned from a dark blue to a dark cobalt The birds had ceased to twitter, and, save for that turbid, swirling water, the place was Intensely still. Her eyes were dark aud misty; her cheeks and even ber lips were pale. "I am going to be married to Julian Carre." Her voice did not sound like ber own as she said it No blush came into her face, no smile into her eyes. She looked and spoke like a woman half dazed. The harsh laugh that answered her made her heart throb. "I wish bim joy of his wife, then." There came a low growl of thunder, and a patter of big rain drops. Dulcie started, and turned as if to step off the bridge, but be put out his band, and would not let her stir. "Oh, if I were only at home," she thought, "if I were only safe at home!" "Percy," she said, trying to steady her voice, "I don't think you ni-an to be cruel to me, but yon are. Can't you (we that we s re going to have an awful storm? I shall 1 drenched through before I reach home as it is. Don't keep me here any longer." "Cruel to you, my darling! Have I been cruel to you? Then be sure I never meant it I would shed my heart's blood for you, Dulcie." His hand came down heavily on her shoulder, and he drew her to him with a kind of soli. "Why, the trial to forget yon, to love Etty only and forget you, has almost kill ed me. Do you think I could be cruel to your He drew ber face to his breast end stroked her cheek with fond, trembling fingers. "What fools we have been!" be burst out presently. "What awful fools we have both been, Dulcie! What ever pos sessed us to think we could live without each other?" "If It be a sin," she said to herself, aa she lay in the close clasp of his arms, "I cannot help it I have no strength in me to give him up." For a brief space there waa silence be tween them; such silence a has been well called "golden." Again and again her soft lils pressed little furtive kisses on the breast of his coat, she thinking he did not know. Again and again ber eyee looked up Into his, only to droop again under the weight of their happy tears, j "I loved him first" she thought. "1 must love him best Etty would not ask me to give him up if she knew." "Dulcie." he said, presently, "we must not keep this to ourselves an hour longer. Who shall tell Esther, you or IT "Oh, I could not! I dare not! Oh, Percy, must she know?" When they had left the wood and come out upon the common, they found the sky one blaze of shifting clouds, which glowed and deeMned about the setting' sun. Tears came into Dulcie's eyes. Something in that changing sky, In the sweetness of the freshened earth, touch ed her. "How beautiful the world is!" she cried, softly. "How beautiful my love Is!" Percy Stanhope cried, looking at her. She smiled, yet a sudden swift pang made ber heart ache.' She could not for get how lately he had called another wom an "his love," while she had been forgot ten. When they were near4to The Elmo be left ber. He was going back to the city by the evening train. "1 will write and tell Etty everything. Trust me; I will be as gentle as can be; but sbe will understand, and forgive us both, when I tell ber all." Dulcie's lips quivered and she clasped her hands about his arm in sudden in tolerable remorse and pain. "Ob, my poor Etty! Dare we ever hope to be bappy again after hurting her so cruelly? Could nothing save ber from such pain as this will be to her'" "Nothing," be said, almost angrily, "but your death or mine. The day I saw yon In that fellow's arms, I knew I could not live without you. I knew I never could marry Esther." His f."-e had a curious gray pallor upon It; bis blue eyes had a cold gleam In them; bis Hps were set and stern. The beauty of his face, which Dulcie thought the bon niest ou earth, waa dimmed just then, as lie held his little sweetheart's hands In his, aud answered her with such blunt directness. When be had gone, sbe walked quickly down the lane, aid in at the gale of The Elms. Mrs. Hardinge was looking out of the drawing room window. Sbe felt curi ous to know when Dulcie came in, and If any one came up the lane with her. No one did come with her, so far as sbe could tell, and that pacified ber a little. Still It was with something very like a sneer that sbe turned to Esther. "Here la Dulcie at last, looking not very much nnlike a little tramp in wet, draggled clothes. I wonder bow that girl can go about In all weathers, aa she has taken to doing lately." (To be eoatbMiod.) Vaacy work la tba play. boa woman' Beware of Um cftllat who prate a, lw4J(aarBMsMfTwaaJairaV Tfce Old Plow. By the fence in the orchard the old plow stands, Slowly rusting and rotting away, While the days go by with their dropping sands. And the world grows dull and gray. It did Ita work In the long ago As it tumbled the stony soil. And the harvest waved with a golden glow. With a crown for the brow of toil. It seemed to shout like a warrior bold As It entered the stubborn field. And the wind-swept clouds above it rolled And the sun smote its shining shield. But now It stands by the fenre'alone. With ita share all brown with rust And its oaken frame with weeds o'er grown And smoldering away to dust And as at the dear old plow I gsze I think of the loved ones dead. And the fragrant flowers of the vanished days And the joys that so swiftly spec And soon I know with the flowing tide That furrows the silvered brow, I, too, will le tenderly laid aside To molder like an outworn plow. The Leicester Pheep. The first Illustration Is a portrait of a pair of yearling ewes, recently ex- BKOtlHU LEICESTKB KWES. hlblted In England. They are not so elegantly formed as the Border Leices ter strain, of what may be called the same breed, and of which a picture Is given of a trio which gained the first at a recent Highland show; but they are unexcelled aa a mutton sheep, and a producer of a heavy and valuable fleece. The picture speak for them selves. It only need be said that both these strain of this remarkable breed are to be found bred to perfection by several of our Cauadian breeders, whose skill baa kept up the style and material value of the race. It Is one of the curious examples of the dlfferencea which will gradually grow out of the personality of breeders, each of whom bits a different deal that these two strains should have acquired from the 1? -Z.4X .sV- BORDKR I.KK ESTKH EWKS. starting point a distinct type, which was certainly as distinct from each of these as each is from the olber; and which may still remain In the memory of an expert who may not bare only In mind what be saw a good many years ago. It la thus that races change under the Influence of skillful culture, or may deteriorate under continued neglect Montreal Herald. Melon Vine In Rows. Most people are so used to planting melons In bill that they deem this tbo only way. But very successful melon (rowers think that making a very slight ridge and planting the s.-ed In a row pretty close together Is a better way. So soon aa the vines begin to run their tendril clasp others, and this keeps them from being blown about by winds. By making the ridges eight or more feet apart the cultivator can b kept running through them until the vines spread out and occupy the whole of tho vacaut space, which tbey will surely do before the summer Is ended. If the vines appear to be too close together In the row the poorest niny be cut out without leaving a vacancy, as would be the case If tbey were planted In bill. Fcarcitr of Cattle. Cattle are becoming scarce In the West, amy the Eastern markets will be affected If the conditions existing In the cattle region. Farmers who raise more calve, and of good quality, will get good price for them by the time tbey are matured. There I no better way to dispose of the surplus foods titan to bare soffldent stock to cn ume Jt and the manure will also be aa Important Item on the farm. Jndajlaa a Cow. It may truly b said that to know a caw well b must be aiamlned Intor Mlljr, so a to Jodjt and acor bar kasurt. I nnca. Ilrar and stomach, whit I not poaafbU, bat dairjrma art a a Eararaw aauiaa ar a row Id thut respect If she has a deep Uxly, Indicating the posscsslou of large digestive organs. Long experience has taught progressive dairymen that a cow having a wedge-snaped form, the rear being wide, the odder large and extending well both front and back, with the teats set regularly and well apart. Is usually one that will not dis appoint ber owner, but as the Individ uality of the anlmnl Is also a factor In the breed, the disosltlon, freedom from disease and quality of the prod uct must he considered, especially aa no two cows are alike, and the quantity and quality of the milk and butter niny vary with the same Individual dally. The calf should also conform to the shape of the cow, and even the embryo udder will give some Indication of It future. An experienced breeder give this rule for Judging of a cow or calf by its appearance: With the eye meas ure the distance from the tall about half-way down the rump, as It drops straight down, to tbe rear line of the thigh, and the greater tbe distance be tween those points, and the more curv ing the thigh, the better tbe row. The hips must curve away from the tall as the Indication of a good milker. Falsing a Spring's Level. It Is often the case that a spring Is so situated that (he water Just fails to run from It into tbe bouse or stable. If gj-i me source oi ine ffi pring Is evidently considerably higher than the spring Itself, get a section of Iron water pipe, sucb a are laid In cities, and put It over the mouth of the spring's Inlet y as snown in tne iiiuav ' tratlon. filling In 'all tbe spring about It with stone and ce ment giving the water an outlet only by raising In the pipe. It can then be carried Into tbe building as desired. The hydraulic ram also furnishes an other method of raising water from a spring on a lower level. These rams are now made to work extremely well, and are, moreover, very reasonable lit price. Considering, that nature can thus be harnessed and made to work for us without compensation. It Is strange that a greater number of fanners do not take advantage of the hydraulic ram. As It can work night as well as day, one has only to supply a tank of sufficient size to thus utilize a spring from which little water flows per minute. New York Tribune. Creameries that Par. A creamery built with a great splurge and at a great expense and declining rapidly Into bankruptcy Is one of tho things which give agriculture In gen eral aud tbe dairy business In particu lar a backset Do not build a creamery on a grand scale, but rather follow the more practical lln -s laid down by your neighboring localities where the dairy cow Is a continual source of profit to the patrons of tbe creamery. If the plant Is built at the right time and upon the proper basis, It makes a cash market for tbe dairy products, relieve the fanner of tbe labor of butter mak ing and very often is great educator In the way of showing the best methods of feeding and of handling the cream and milk. Creamery Journal. Getting Kid of Anta. C. II. Fernold. of the Maaaaebusetta experiment station, recommences the following, which is a good and sure method: Make boles with a crowbar or convenient stick from 6 Inches to 1 foot deep and about 15 inches apart, over the hill or portion of the lawn Infested by tbe ants, and Into each hole pour two or three teaspoonful of Msulphide of carbon, stamping the dirt luto tbe hole as soon as tbe liquid Is poured into It The bisulphide- of carbon at once vaporizes, aud, permeat ing the ground, destroys the ants, but does not injure tbe grass. One should remember while using this substance that It is highly Inflammable and should not bring near It s. flame or even a lighted cigar. Prop Door for the Rarn. The accompanying illustration show a very bandy drop door for basement barns. It Is hinged to the barn sill at tbe top. Another pair of hinges are fitted about tbe middle. By turning tbe button a parallel to the board of tbe door, the lower half of tbe door can be raised by means of the cord b, which runs over the pulley c. If It Is desirable to open all the door, turn tbe button a Into the position shown In the thc drop oooa. cut Then by pulling on the cord b, tbe whole door la raised. Orang Judd Farmer. Hints for th Uennsry. Active ben are the best layer. Clean bouse and run are tn Dt medicine. A nest egg will oully stop bar arratcblng tbe neat; If not, use snar log. A spoonful of oil or tnrpentlns la a good remedy for tapeworm la poultry. If fowl lear part of tatr braakfaat la the dlah, remor It A baa caa b fad afctaat aaylhtas that a cow win aat, aai aaaf Ciaa 0 : , a BSs SILL - "T" ' taL 1 -If 7 V I'd Z" A It AAA aciMo.C olOrty. Hattler and tireaser A flout on a I'laafe for Nevrral Hours. "I have beard of ninny m n being placed In odd predlcauieui," remarked Capt Jenkins, "but one of the most peculiar situations that tver befel an I:.Jividual was assuredly that of an Ignorant Mexican a good many yeara n:.M near Iudlauola, Texas, at the time i!i; town was so nearly destroyed by a tropical hurricane or cyclone. I have heard the story many times, although It happened so long ago. It wm during the extreme htslght of tbe cyclone. Houses in Indlanola were going to pieces like so much pnper, boats were being wrecked, and It looked decidedly bad for the individuals who were lo cated In exposed portion of the coast It was about this time that a little Mexican settlement on one of the coast Ulands adjacent to Indlanolo began to go to piece, tbe water having risen over the top of the sand dunes and the wave smashing tbe loosely construct ed buildings of the setUejuenl Into kin dling wood. Jose Barettl, one of thc Inhabitant of the settlement was separated from the remainder of bis family, and. cling ing to a long plank, waa driven Into the Inner bay over the ruins of the settle ment When the day broke he was out of sight of land. The waves had calmed down and tbe storm was gone. A ho cast his eyes about In the early dawn, to his horror he found the other end of tbe plank occupied by an Immense rat tlesnake. As soon am the snake ob served the Mexican be legan to writhe and coil In an odd sort of manner and apparently to make attempt to reach the poor fellow, whose lwiir was then standing on end In a manner wonder ful to behold. The hours went by. Tbe snake kept up his antiot, but for some reason did not get any nearer the Mex ican. The unfortunate follow was afraid to leave tbe plunk, knowing that ha would drown, and at tbe same Uine be was In horrible fear of meeting death In a more terrific manner from snake bite. He lay on the end of tho plank, with bis eyes fixed on the rat tler. In fact, rticy both eyed W'li oth er, and this they kept up until midday, when a fishing smack came sailing along on the lookout for castaways. The Mexican wag seen from the Imat and In a short time waa hauled on board more dead than alive. He point ed weakly at his blsHlug companion. Tbe sailors on the smack killed the rat tlesnake und found that It had jammed I u tail through a atna.ll knothole In the plank. Tho Imanersion of the buttons of the rattle In the salt water had caused thorn to aweJI and he was uu alde to remove his tall from the hole. To this fortunate circumstance tho Mexican owed his life. The fact that tbo coast btlands contain many rattlers accounts for tbe presence of the snake on the plank." New Orleans Times Democrat Dietetics. We used to have old-fushioSed things, like hominy and greens. We used to have Just common soup, made out of pork and beans; But now It's bouillon, consomaie and tilings made from a book, And pot au feu and Julienne since my daughter's learned to cook. We used to have a piece of beef just or dinary meat And pickled pigs' feet spare ribs, too, and other things to eat; While now It's fillet with ragout, and leg o' mutton braised. And macaroni au gratin, and sheep's head Hollandaised; Escallops a la Versailles a Is this and a la that And sweetbread a la Dieppolse, it's enough to kill a cat! But while I suffer deeply, I invariably look Aa hi I were delighted, 'cause my daugh ter's learned to couk. We have a lot of salad things, with dress ing mayonnaise; In place of oysters, blue points, fricasseed a dozen ways; An orange roly poly, float and peach me ringue, alas Enough to wreck a stomach that is mads of plated brass! The good old things have passed away, in silent sad retreat; We've lota of highfalutin' things, but nothing much to cat. And while I never say a word, and always pleasant look, I have had sore dyspepsia since. my daugh ter's learned to cook." Southwestern Medical Itecord. Britain's AstaMo Empire. A fact which wo perhaps too often forget Is Unit numerically the British empire Is au Asiatic empire. Of the JWO.000,000 Pjl In the whole empire India contributes 2iK),(XX),(KiO, Nor does the Anglo-Saxon race figure as largely as we are apt to fancy In colonial popu lation. Canada and Australia are. In deed, white man's lands, but In South Africa tbe white man is Jp -a tl'ntlimt minority, while In West Africa and East Africa there are teeming popula tions of blacks whose miruliers1 can only be roughly guessed In millions. If these be deducted It will be found that outside tbe United Kingdom there are only some 10,000,000 persons of Euro pean race In the British empire, so that putting the United Kingdom at 40,000,. OIK) persons we have altogether In Um empire a population of some 330,000,. 000 Asiatic and Africans. London Graphic. He'd Been Tried. WKb hi feet on tbe window sill and a general air of the man who know how It la and la willing to tell, Kawson observed: "It'a really pathetic tba absolute eon fldenc a woman ha la tbe man aba lore." "Y," raapoadad hongmA, wlta a Igb, "aba think b caa do rrery-Uafr"-Dtrott Nawa. Ia ala tla, aaity arary boy aaa au. fM toSX . .