AW HALF §IST~I>
AAA By ELTOIN HARRIS AAA
CHAPTER 111.—(Continued.)
"He Is considered very handsome,"
Joyce called mischievously after Reg
gie's retreating figure; but whether
he heard her was doubtful, and her
own frank, plain face looked very
grave, as she picked up her wools.
' Madame is a clever woman,” she ar
gued to herself. “Henri Is under her
thumb—that Is, ho always seems to
lie afraid of her; and Mollie Is Inex
perienced and Impetuous. It Is little
more than a fortnight since she re
turned. Can Itejglo mind already—
Reggie, who does not care for girls?"
Hut personal experience, in connec
tion with the naval lieutenant to
whom she was engaged, called loudly
that a fortnight might make or mar a
iifo, and she could not disguise from
herself that Reggie had shown more
Interest In beautiful Mollie I/Estrange
than he had ever exhibited for any
woman—save his mother and herself
— before.
A fresh, matter-of-fact girl, of three
and-twenty, Joyce, though fond of
Mollie, was Inclined to look upon her
as a child, and did not give her credit
for half the sense and observation she
poss* BSfd.
For Mollie had learned a great deal
in that past fortninght, though Reg
gie had not always been her teacher.
She knew that the good oountiy people
round, who Lad been her parents’
friends, while wishful to be pleasant
to herself, looked askance at Madame
liubols, whose gieat object in life was
to get into the charmed circle of their
acquaintance. With this end she
would drag the reluctant girl to any
social gathering where she might meet
them, and endeavor to force herself
upon them until poor Mollie was bit
terly ashamed of her; while her
Rmotherod exultation when Mrs. An
^ etrutlier did violence to her feelings
by a stiff call showed Mollie more than
words would have done how the resi
dents of Chulfont House were regard
ed in Reverton.
Kate was a great trial to her sister;
she was delicate, nervous and excit
able to a degree; and, as her aunt
never checked her, she was almost un
bearable. All Moilir-’g efforts at friend
ship she regarded with suspicion, as
made to the helrees of Chalfont, and
she Hew into a rage if her sister tried
to reason with her, or attempted to
take the part of the unfortunate dally
governess who for a couple of hours
each morning endeavored to teach
her. Mollie was very forbearing with
her, trying never to forget that she
was the baby whom she had seen in
her mother's arms. But she was firm
also, declining to be driven about, or
stand any rudeness; and Kate, finding
her tempers disregarded, her imperi
ous nirH laughed at, began to treat her
sister with sullen respect.
Mollle was thinking of Kate after
lteggie had left her at the gate, and
she walked briskly up the graveled
path, swinging her empty basket. She
had promised some flowers for the
church on Sunday, and wanted them
also for wreaths for her parents'
graves. Should she take them boldly
from Chaifont, and incur her sister’s
wrath, or should she order them else
where? It seemed a shame that her
mother’s wreath should not be from
the place she loved so well; and yet
she could not hear that anything for
her should be wrangled over.
There used to be a great clump of
narcls*d growing almost wild in a
shady corner beside some laurels at
the far aide of the house. If Mr. Har
lowe’s vandal hand hail spared them,
she might surely have some from
there; and, Intent on flnding out, she
never paused until she suddenly fonnd
herself nearly opposite the window of
that fatal study where her stepfather
had met bis death by an unknown
band nearly twelve months previously.
Since her return she had carefully
avoided this spot; It had a nameless
terror, yet fnselnatlou for her Mrs
llariowe’s name was rarely mentioned
In the house; no servuut wouti go past
the study door alone after dark. It
was not only madam*'* hard and mean
rule that caused rarely a week to puis
without sum* of them leaving they
frightened each other; tales of thing<
seen and heard were rife among them,
and It must be owned that Multi* w.u
not proof against the general whisper
Ing, the unspoken fear, that seemed to
bang over the place, especially after
dark.
Hh# was half Inclined to turn hack
now. even though the sun was shining
and a whole colony of rooks cwwing
noisily In the tall trees further on
ft und this very path the assassin miiai
hare stolen that bitter March night
after Ike had done the de#«l leaving *ke
1 Wlkk
the window I*s open |*y Voices
fytl upon her ear* So one ever vn
t«r*d that fO’tm hut Matin.'1 ■»
tti ' igh it waa unlocked Who could It
be?
Taking an Iwpetuo a step forward
her eyes felt sa madam*1 herself it and
tag erect with #'.# hand m the table
her face haggard and whne he* this
lips drawn away from Mr i|r«s| white
•estb. War dark »»>* gl**a»lag unler
their heavy brows with a strange wild
gleam; while her voice,harsh and high,
came clearly towards Mollle.
‘‘Are there no other apartments In
the house but that you must come hero
—here—here?” she screamed. "Why do
you torture me liko this? Have I not
enough to bear for you? Ah, me! How
many mothers would have done as
much?"
"Calm yourself, mother,” cried a
thin, reedy voice. "I had merely a
fancy to view tho chamber where my
so tender-hearted relative shuffled off
this mortal coll last Easter Sunday.
Where is the harm?”
“No, no, my beloved!" she answered,
In a gasping voice, evidently struggling
hard to recover her self-command;
“hut coming In suddenly and seeing a
man—so near the time-” And she
clasped her hands as a visible tremor
shook her from head to foot.
“Every one was out; I wanted amus
ing,” he said. "How dusty the place
is. Why not use the room?”
"Impossible!" panted she. “How can
you expect It, Henri—you, who saw
-1 have It cleaned sometimes, but
no one will do It alone, nor will they
come near it until after Sunday.”
“My uncle seems as much loved In
deart as in life.” And there was a fine
sneer in the young man’s voice. “Now,
why did you send for me In such a
hurry, mother? 1 was having a good
time in Paris—music, pretty girls! —
and then you insist that I must return
to this dull hole. 'Tis absolutely
cruel!”
“You have no thought for your own
Interests. You are Incorrigible!” she
cried angrily. ”1 told you the reason
plainly enough; and you spend so
much money, the sooner you fall In
with my Intentions the better for you;
then your future Is assured."
“So you have dragged me away from
a thousand engagements and pleasures
Just for this!” Mollle heard him ex
plain grumbllngly. "What Is she?”
“Oh, Henri, my adored!” eried Ma
dame Dubois, her voice vibrating with
intense feeling, her eyes fixed with
deep, passionate love on the other un
seen occupant of the room; "I feel that
at this time I must have you with me—
that I must see you—to feel that my
sacrifices have not been In vain that
through them you are prosperous. Is
It nothing to you to be with you*
mother?”
What rpply the son made Mollle did
not hear, for, recovering frem her as
tonishment, slie stole quietly away,
thankful that madume’s keen glance
had not fallen upon her. That Mon
sieur Henri Dubois had arrived before
he was expected—that he had coino,
not because he loved his home and
wished to make her acquaintance, as
madatne had repeatedly declared, but
because she had sent him an impera
tive summons—was clear; but why
had she done so? Nor could Mollle,
having seen the mother's hard face,
softened aud beautiful with feeling,
doubt that this Invisible son, with tho
thin, sneering voice, was tho passion
of her life, the being for whom she
would go through fire and water.
CHAPTER IV.
It was with conflicting feelings that
Mollie brushed out her sunny hair be
fore luncheon, staring absently the
while into the glass with a perplexed
frown.
They were strange people, those Du
bois, and she uneasily felt that she
could not fathom them.
Henri's cynical tone she considered
unfeeling, for l.conard Barlowe had
been his uncle after all; while madams
never showed the least respect for her
dead brother, though any allusion to
him would visibly upset her self-con
trol. And Mollie shrewdly guessed that
the extravagant affection she heaped on
Kate was but on the surface.
Evidently mudame had sent for her
son. and there was a "she” in the case
—did they mean Kate?
Already Mollie had not a very high
Idea of their probity, and wondered
how much power they had over the
child a fortune.
But she did not think of herself at
the moment, except to be glad that she
was no relation of theirs. And then
h« r thoughts drifted off to Reggie, and
there was a smile on her face as she
flung open the door, nearly running
over Kate, who was advancing conse
quentially down the corridor, a huge
box of distinctly Pariatau bonbon* la
her arms.
* t shall not give you one itecau«e
you would not take me to get moss,”
she said, with solemn spllefulneaa. as
she displayed them
"You should have gone with |d*a*
ure had you asked nicely,** returned
Mollie, unruffled "Hut I will not tshs
you anywhere when you are unpleas
sal.**
And before the trade aistiru of the
boo** could Ini anything bill f
enough for her p-tor little luaie* t»
utter, the elder girt hsd passed her.
and de». ending the stair*, entered th*
dining room where Madame IHia'Ii
s i her sun n*r» »l«n > »s by tt.e Are
There they stood, the-e aliens an I
1 *t rang ere, giving themselves all the
airs of proprietor<dt«p Hi the house
tktl ought to have been quite ae ns h
her * as Kate's giending t-us, fight
under the painting of her father In full
uniform that hung over the m&niel
| piece. It would have been removed
long ago but that it had cost pome
; numireds of pounds, and, Mr. Barlowe
! seve'.ly thought, added distinction to
the room.
A hot wave of Indignation and
wounded pride swept over Mollie.
What business had these people at
Chalfont using everything as their
own, while she herself was but a guest;
and It was a very frigid and haughty
how that she gave In the direction of
Monsieur Henri Dubois when his moth
er introduced him.
"What am I to call you?" exclaimed
madarne playfully. "Is it to be cous
ins?”
"Certainly not, madarne,” she broke
in quickly, with a polite smile. "I am
a L’Estrange, and the only relation I
have In my father’s house is my half
sister Kate." And her tone clearly
Implied that no other would be al
lowed.
The elder woman’s face darkened
visibly; but before she could speak
Henri said, with a graceful, sweeping
bow:
"Mademoiselle Is cruel; but I trust
In time to win and deserve hor friend
ship ”
With some murmured rords of ab
sent. Mollie sank into her ►•at, ami dur
ing luncheon took as complete a sur
vey of the young roan ns the fact that
he was covertly tr Ing to do the same
thing of her would allow. Small,slight,
dapper, with sharp, well-cut features, a
sallow complexion, and quick, black
eyes, he was indeed a contrast to the
young officer who already held a largo
place In her heart.
A thorough Frenchman was Henri
Dubois, both In thought and appear
ance, though his English was very
good; and as he sat at the foot of the
table caressing his small, black mus
tache and endeavoring to make himself
agreeable, Mollie privately came to the
conclusion that she disliked and dis
trusted him only a little loss than she
did his mother, and that might oBly ho
because she did not know him so
well. Indeed his high voice and cynical
air contrasted badly with Reggie An
struther's hearty tones and easy, well
bred manner, though It was plain that
his mother thought him perfect, and
rarely took her eyes from his face.
"Where have you been this morning,
Mollie?" she demanded at length, when
there came a break In the conversa
tion,
“She has been for a country walk
with Mr. Anstruther. I saw her," broke
In Kate’s little vohe. maliciously
“And she would not take me.”
Did a swift glance of meaning pass
between mother and son? Mollie could
not be quite sure, for this unprovoked
attack was disconcerting enough to
make her blush furiously. It was very
annoying, ami madame’s eyes were
turned upon her crimson visage with
unmerciful scrutiny.
"Kate knows why I would not take
her," she said, breaking the pause with
a somewhat haughty ring in her young
voice.
"But this Mr. Anstruther-” began
madarne coldly.
"I met him when I was going to
gather moss, and he accompanied me”
—rather defiantly.
Madame's lips went Into the thin
lino that gave such a very unpleasant
expression to her face, and Mollie con
tinued her luncheon with but a hazy
notion of what was on her plate, and
a vague, uncomfortable presentiment
that picking moss In the bright sun
shine with Reggio for a companion
would not he allowed to occur again.
Two or three times already, when her
opinion had not agreed with madame’s,
she had been obliged to yield, and as
the scene of the fragrant earthly moss,
the flickering light through the bud
ding branches In the shady lane, and
Reggie’s laughing brown face rose be
fore hor, so also did a feeling of her
own helplessness In Madame Dubois’
strong, shapely hands.
(To be Continued.)
Ttipnyen Sqm*«*r.*d by A nutria.
The taxpayers of Galicia have many
grievances against the Austrian gov
ernment, says Michael Henry Dzle
wicki in the Chicago Record. The
chief complaint is that the assessors
of taxes will not admit the declaration
of Income drawn up by the taxpayer
as what he really gets, but substitute
a sum which they *ay he ought to get.
This la flagrantly unfair and contrary
to law, and makes the taxpayer liable
to rates for what doe* not exist. When
I challenged as to tilts arbitrary pro
ceeding the assessors answered that
they had merely raised Him taxes, and
maintained that in order to raise an
action against them the complainant
would require to prove a false state
ment. This deprives the taxpayer of
any legal remedy, except going before
the commission of complaints; hut,
as the commission is sup|Mised to deal
with 13,000 appeals within a ft w weeks
It can lw readily seen that it cannot
possibly go Into the details of any
ense.
Story rim,
Th* "second story flea" has teen
discovered SI At. Joseph Heretofore
the Michigan fleas have teen nil
ground floor Acts and there It no rue-•
ord until this summer of fleas wh|e*i
' Inhabited people on the e <111 I stork**
of h *!*•-* S\ illUtu G llabe. k - n of
Hen ton Harbor, has bee a Hites by
one of the i<*i-ouJ story Hens, and he
shows tke bits in grove It. It puts kin
to vwnstdernkie t mu Ms tu do ibis, but
be In wilting l« go to that trouble
when bs t It doubling t#>pl* The
•ItoHikkun ekkk fmaslos him la kut d<e
tHe fleas get t»* lb* •*> a I story? lit
th- > Jwmg, walk apntsira, lass the els
vatur, or at* thgy vnrrled ug en pm
pie » elvihiug *
WHEN THE CIRCUIT RIDER CAME
In the backwoods of Ohio. In the days of
long ago.
When religion was religion, not a dressy
fashion show.
When the spirit of the Master fell as
flumes of living fire.
And the people did the singing, not a
trained artistic eholr.
There was scarcely seen a ripple In life's
gently flowing tide.
No events to draw the people from their
dally loll aside.
Naught to set the pious spirit of the pion
eers aflame
Save upon file rare occasions when the
circuit rider came.
He was usually mounted on the sorriest
of nags,
All his outfit for the Journsy parked In
leather saddle bags.
And he’d travel with the Hilda or the
hymn hook In his hand
Heading sacred word or singing of the
happy Promised Hand,
How the tolling wives would glory In the
dinners they would spread.
And how many a hapless chicken or a
turkey lost Its head
By the gleaming chopper wielded by the
hand of sturdy dame,
For it wasn't very often that the circuit
rider came.
AR tXe settlement around us would La i
tinging with the news
That there'll he a meetln’ Sunday, and
we'd "taller" up our shoes.
And we'd brush our homespun dress suits,
pride of every country youth.
And we'd grease our hair w ith marrow till
It shone like golden truth.
And the frocks of linsey-woolsey would
be donned by all the girls.
And with heated old lire pokers they
would make their corkscrew curls;
They were scarcely queens of fashion,
but were lovely just the same.
And they always looked their sweetest
when Ihe circuit rider came.
As a preacher, holy Moses! bow he'd
swing the living word.
How he'd draw the pious "bretherln' "
yet closer to the Lord,
And he'd raise the hair of sinners Bitting
on the backmost seat
With his fiery, lurid pictures of the ever
lasting heal!
We have sat In grand cathedrals, tri
umphs of the builder's skill,
And In great palatial churches iieath the
organ’s mellow thrill.
Hut they never roused within us such a
reverential flMiic
As would burn In that old schoolhouse
when the circuit rider came.
—James llarton Adam* In Denver Post.
A TAlf Of MISS MARGARET j
"The young forget their fancies, the
old forget their '•ares.
When pretty Mistress Marget comes
smiling down the stairs.”
Nobody who once looked upon Mis
tress Marget—pretty Mistress Marget
almost everybody called her—could
help loving her. I, Thomas Dawtry,
a plain and simple squire of the realm,
loved her better than all the world.
But pretty Mistress Marget was not
for me, or so, at least, her father had
Informed me. As for me, I had long
since decided to abide by this decision
only so long as circumstances com
pelled me. Whenever fate offered me
the shadow of an opportunity 1 meant
to steal Mistress Margst and run away
with her. Mistress Marget, as I had
every reason- save spoken words—to
believe, would ba by no means unwil
ling.
The opportunity came when my
sweet lady’s father was called away
to tight for tils king and country, King
Charles and Bonnie England. I, who
longed to fight for king aud country
also, dared the laughter and the Jeers
of my comrades to stay behind a little
and sttal my lovely lady, if it so
pleased fate. And no sooner had her
father ridden away, at the head of his
men. then I made for the hall and
sought out old Simeon, the gardener.
.Sir Reginald had never forbidden my
visits—he was too wise a man to tempt
fate in such a manner; he had merely
taken care that I had no chance of
solitary speech with my dear lady. I
knew now that the 1-ad.y Eleanor
niewett, who filled, as best she might,
tlie place of the dead lady of the man
or to her daughter. Mistress Marget,
favored not my suit, so I sought not
to have speech with her or with my
lady. Old Simeon I had been friends
with ever since, as a child, I had
played in the gardens with sweet Mis
tress Marget. I knew he was my
friend and would help me. J knew also
that he might spook with his lady
when 1 might not unwatched and un
guarded. To old Simeon I told my
story, nnd trusted him for his aid.
And there wag the chink of gold
between us when we parted, albeit my
lack of gold was the reason why Sir
Reginald had said me nay, upon my
asking for his daughter's hand. And
for gold—next to hts love for pretty
Mistress Marget—obi Simeon would do
more than most of us would do for the
sake of life.
That evening I happened to he
walking in the lane Just us old Simeon
also came out to take the air And a
note passed between i s. Old Simeon |
also instructed me as to where I could 1
find certain Implements and tools x
ladder nnd a stout stave among them ,
- which I might need later on, par- (
chance. And I gave to Simeon the
package of a certain drug, which my |
friend, the rhlruget n, had gtv«n me
Mlstrass Maiget was to s.« that this j
drug was dropped Into tha flagon ot
, #la sent up for th* taidy Eleanor's i
s ipper Then, later, *h»> was to lean
out of her easement and signal to me
• ailing outside ip tha tan* And lat
er still I'ttew liibney, who loved us
both and sympathised • th ns rather
than with Sir Reginald was to make
pretty Mistress vi.tr* i mr wife
And so it git happened, without l«t
or hindrance, save wh«tt mv body ist
vant's horse was Mired |n the slough
heck uf the Its* It# «h iwld have
• ailed In the tan# prop#?, bot h#
*tioughi he he ltd r,i|# r* end soon hr
•f h .. sea hoof* cumin# sad. knowing '
that he must no* he too ,1 iter* k#
leaped his own steel «#»«* the h->>*
and tots the atatigfc, We had to wstt <
soiihj minutes for him, when we
would fain have hurried onward. But
this was after 1 had placed the ladder
underneath my lady’s window, mount
ed It, piled off the guarding Imrs with
the stout stave which old Simeon had
furnished me, and received my darling
In my arms. My heart heat so in go
ing down tlie ladder that 1 feared she
would hear It and think me timid.
Yet had i courage to claim a kiss as
we neared the bottom, insisting that
she pay it me before I set her down;
and 1 do not think she noticed the
iapid heating of my heart after that,
even had she notlcod It before. Her
own heart beat rapidly then, as the
bright color coming and going In the
face which looked so fair and sweet
in the moonlight testified clearly.
At the foot of the ladder I set her
down, and hand in hand we raced
across the greensward, over the foot
bridge old Simeon had managed to
leave open and unguarded for us, and
out Into the lane. There, lifting her
dear form In my arms, 1 swung her up
before me, and away we galloped,
after the short Interval of waiting for
my servant, of which 1 have spoken..
Half an hour later we stood before
Parson Dabney in the gray old vicar
age, and a few moments afterward I
had the right to call pretty Mistress
Marget my wife. Then, a hurried kiss,
a tear or two on Mistress Marget’s
part, and we were on our way back
to the hall, where Mistress Marget was
to live on, the same as ever in all
things save that slender gold band on
her finger, until my return from the
wars. And then—ah! sad for a man
to leave his wife on the wedding eve
—my body servant had summoned my
varlets and they waited for me out
side in the lane. I could but kiss my
darling once more, ah me! hut so ten
derly and lovingly, see her safely up
the ladder, withdraw it from beneath
her window, wave her a last tender
farewell—and now, beshrew me! but
mine own eyes were wet— and take
my departure. But before I crossed
the foot-bridge once more I threw the
stout stave that had served our turn
so well far from me Into the thick of
the hedge, and I once more clinked
gold with old Simeon In order that
he might be properly forgetful of nil
that had happened that night. Then
the soft darkness of the lane, with the
moon well under a kindly cloud, a
sharp command to the waiting varlets.
a tearing gallop until morning, and
we were well up with Sir Reginald
and his men. and nothing but wars
and fighting before us for many long
months.
But my heart was brave and light
some within me, even though I had
left my dear wife of an hour behind
mo. For it is easier, perhaps, to leave
one’s wife than one's sweetheart, espe
cially when the sweetheart's father
favors a richer man, and I knew, also,
that 1 was a brave and skillful fight
er, and I hoped that before Sir Regi
nald or 1 saw pretty Mistress Marget
again his heart would have warmed
toward me un Ibis account. For Sir
Reginald loves a brave man and a
good fighter always. And in the end
It all turned out even us 1 had hoped.
— Chicago Tribune.
On th* Writing «*f I'nninlf.
IkuKi'lriult, quite nt the beginning
of his career (and he wrote plays al
most ua a laxly l. used to get JC:ioO
for u live-act comedy, lie stated the
fact on oath In a court of justlc*,
and the sum was considered no im
mense ih.it the counsel who was exam
ining him exclaimed:
“l)o you mean tu tell me. sir, that
If I were to write a comedy fur the
llaymarket theater the manager
would give me £306 for |t*‘*
“I think It must Improbable,** re
plied Ikiucf icault from “IViwonal
lierolleetlona, ' hy Sutherland Ed
wards.
t «peels tr..«s» I hum »•*«•»
Exports trow the * atii i Slat** dur
ing the past As al year iu< reaaed tu
• 1*1» section of the globe. N»«t lu
European exports, the Isrgeut laertuss
was la rtputu to other ports of North
Amsibm
lw Went tu# 1'ieMkSk
There Is a i word (a th# t‘Masse
language that convey# aa tut mallow
«f What w« t im public wyiilui, pit
14 there a synonym fw ysiiMisn.
AMONOJHE BANKS.
rhrfe Chlra^o Concerns Consol Idatk—
New York tiets New One.
The directors of the Continental Na
tional bank of Chicago have voted
unanimously in favor of increasing the
capital stock of $1,000,000, making It
$3,000,000, Three of Chicago’* oldest
and largest banking Institutions are to
be consolidated. The Corn Exchange
National, the American National and
the Northwestern National are to pool
Issues and reorganize under the char
ter of the Corn Exchange, retaining Its
title. President Ernest A. Hamill, of
the Corn Exchange bank, wil' be pres
ident of the consolidated corporation.
The new Corn Exchange National hank
will have a capital stock of $2,000,000.
a surplus of $1,000,000 and undivided
profits of ir.00,000. The Federal Na
tional hank of New York city Is the
proposed title of an Institution for
which the application has been approv
ed by Acting Comptroller Kane. The
proposed capital is $500,000, and the
responsible applicant who has con
ducted the correspondence is Joseph T.
Hall, the real estate man at 35 Nas
sau street. The other four incorpora
tors required by law are Walter D.
Johnson, broker; Charles A. O’Dono
huo, merchant; Percy B. O'Sullivan,
and Jiu-von C. Moore, It Is announced
that the United States treasury's third
call for $5,000,000 from government de
positories will be the last. The remain
ing $10,000,000 needed for the retire
ment of the $25,000,000 old 2 per cent
bonds, it is stated, will he made up
from the growing treasury surplus.
The three calls have been prorated
among the banks all over the coun
try having government deposits, and
the eight depositaries In Philadelphia,
after responding to the last call, which
was payable July 16. contributed
something like $750,000 in nil.
BEAUTIFUL FEET RARE.
••re»eut-l>i»jr Footwear IliUorti the Ex
tremities Abominably.
A man who denies that he is pre
judiced, but claims that he Is a good
judge of feminine beauty, declares
that there Is scarcely a beautiful foot
to he found among the women of to
day. The high heels, the exaggerated
curve at the hall of the foot, the still
heel stays and the pointed toes, he de
clares, have distorted the foot in a
painful and ugly manner. The ankles
are misshapen. In some rases the
bones are enlarged until they bulge
out so that every bone is perceptible.
The weight of the body thrown upon
the toes has caused them to spread
out. Crowded into pointed toes, they
stick up in clusters of knotty corns.
The foot should be as shapely as the
hand. Footwear should fit as a glove
11 ts the hand. The perfect foot is
slender, with an arched instep and toes
that lie smoothly and easily. The first
step toward acquiring a pretty foot is
to wear shoes that fit It comfortably.
The next is to take exercises that will
render the toes strong and supple. Be
gin by spreading out the toes to the
utmost extent; then hold four toes still
and attempt to move the remaining
one. Every toe should be straighter
and shorter than the next one and the
arch should he shapely and pliant. Tho
feminine foot of today renders a grace
ful carriage an Impossibility. And nil
because Dame Fashion has decreed
that a short, high-heeled, polnted-too
shoe Is the correct thing in dressy
footgear, forgetting that there never
was a human foot built that way.
Ihira Electricity Kill Tr«u?
New Haven (Conn.) Special to Phil
adelphia Inquirer: Indignant citizens
who desire to save the noble elms that
are the pride of New Haven have
threatened to bring suit against the
trolley car companies of the city for
alleged damages to the trees. The as
sertion is made that the trolley wires
charged with electricity are in some
streets held In place by connecting
wires fastened to the trees, and that
charges of electric fluid are sent into
the trees, which are thus killed. The
trolley companies have sought to stave
off damage suits by an offer to test
the scientific correctness of these as
sertions. Permission has been obtained
from the department of public works
and police supervision ussured for the
Interesting experiment within the
week of charging the big tree in front
of City Hall with the full voltage of
the trolley system. If the tree dies
a score of suits will be filed by prop
erty owners, who have been compelled
to cut down trees, some of them 150
years old,since the trolley ran through
the uveuues.
Hoy * Spartan Courage.
Altoona (Pa i correspondence Phila
delphia Record: Fifteen-year-old Wil
liam Van Allman, while picking ber
ries west of the city, was nipped by a
rattlesnake, which he failed to observe
under a buuh. The fangs of tho rep
tile caught one of the boy's fingers
a«nr the end. First killing the snake,
the lad drew Ms |*>rketknlfe, and, with
Spartan courage, rut off the Injured
finger st the second Joint. He bound
the wound with k.W handkert htef sud
hastened to Altoona, where the Injury
was dressed. The physician* say he is
In no danger.
virthauUm of Ike Cart*
l**ople marvel st the met haul<tn of
the human body, with It* RJ bones
end erterle*. Hut mm |s simple
In this respect compared with the carp
Till remarkable fi»H mows no fewer
(ban fish bone* and Mile Im every
lime It breathes. It hae 4,1)0 wins,
to any nothing of Its H muscles
NatMutw ISfliM IttHn Ivans.
Suwon M#wc* t»»t*, the American »*.
truwomsr baa h*4 «a honorary «4-g eo
> uferrvHi him by one of the |«a |\g
Austrian uatversitiea.
