A A A A A ^ xV xV xV xV xV xV xV xV xV »♦< xj» ^tx »4« #♦» ^*x #4» »*X /*X #*X #4% 4' ^4* />X 44% *4* #4* #4* 4»JC *4* /lOJx^Jx #Jx %» ^ I Mildred J+ I <£& Ure'Oanion 1 X*/ tat* *:•* i,\i jji BY THE DUCHESS. iU 4x ►I;. .;!*..'!'. ;!i -\*'.:!'. ;k jk .'k .'k .‘k jk ;k ^ ;k .'k ;k .'k :k ?k :k ?k .»k A ;k A ^ '♦' *4* *X* *4* *4* <*» /4X #X* /*X X4X ^X /*» •*' ^4X /*X 0*K W CHALTER XIX.— (Continued.) “You should not hit a man when he ii down,” he said, reproachfully. “I don’t think you will be long j down,’’ returned Blount with an en- I couraging nod that somehow made j Denzil’y heart beat higti, though he did j not dare to take the words in their j under meaning. “And now I must he off. No, thank you, my dear—I can j not stay to dinner; I have so many j tilings to attend to before seven. But i tell Sir George 1 will look him up 1 again in the morning. And give my love to the girls; and tell Mildred that I know, and she knows, there is hut one man in the world can ever make her happy.” He looked kindly at Denzil as he spoke, but the latter would not accept the insinuation conveyed in his words. Mrs. Younge, however, noticed both the glance and the significant tone, and a light broke in upon her. When Lady Caroline had followed Dick Blount out of the room she went over and knelt down by her son. “Denzil," she said, lovingly, “I know it all now. But am I never to speak of it?” And ho answered as he kissed hef: ”I)o not let us ever mention it again —there’s a darling mother.” But all that night Mrs. Younge gazed at the girl and wondered, pon dering many things and blaming, wom an-like, yet feeling in her heart the while that the choice her son had made was indeed a perfect one. After tills Denzil made rapid strides toward recovery, growing stronger, gayer and more like the Denzil they had known in the first days of their acquaintance than he had been for some time before his illness. He could now walk from room to room and take long drives, though Stubber still in sisted on some hours in the day being spent on the sofa. Miss Trevanion Denzil saw daily, though seldom alone —and who shall say how much this conducted toward the renewing of liis strength? It wanted but a fortnight of Charlie’s wedding day, and Denzil, who was feel ing a little tired, and was anxious to attain perfect health before the event came off—having promised to attend in the character of “best man”—was lying on the lounge in the library when Mildred came in. “I did not know you were in from your drive,” she said. There was less constraint between them now than there had ever been. “Did you enjoy it?” “Very much indeed.” “So you ought,” she said. “Could there be a more beautiful day?” She threw up the low window as she spoke and leaned out. “The air reminds me of summer, and the flowers are becom ing quite plentiful, instead of being sought longingly one by one.” “Yes,” returned Denzil, vaguely, thinking all the time what an exquisite picture she made, framed in by tho window and its wreaths of hanging Ivy. tsy tne bye, am you like tne bunch I gathered for you this morning? See —there they are over there.” “Were they for me?” asked Denzil, looking pleased. “I did not flatter my self that they were.” “Well, yes, I think they were chiefly meant for you,” returned Mildred, carelessly. “Invalids are supposed to get every choice thing going—are they not?—though indeed you can scarcely come under that head now.” She threw down the window again, and came back toward the center of the room. "Mildred,” said Denzil suddenly—he had risen on her first entering, and stood leaning against the chimney piece—“there is something connected with my illness, a dream it must have been, that, whenever I see you, preys upon my mind. May I tell it to you? The vivid impression it made might perhaps leave me if I did.” “Of course you may,” answered Mil dred, growing a shade paler. “Come over here then and sit down, I can not speak to you so far away.” She approached the hearth rug and stood there. “I will warm my hands while you tell me,” she said, determined that, should it prove to be what she half dreaded to hear, he should not see her face during the recital. “Well, then,” he began, "I thought that, ns I lay in bed one evening, the door opened, and you came into the room, and, walking softly over to my bedside, stood there very sorrowfully looking down upon me. We were alone, I think”—passing his hand in a puzzled manner over his forehead, as though endeavoring vainly to recollect something—“at least I can remember no one else but us two, and it seemed to me that presently you began to cry and stooped over me, whispering some thing, I forget what, and I took your hands like this”—suiting the action ‘.o the word—“and then some figures came toward us, but I waved them back, holding you tightly all the time; and”—here he paused, his eyes fixed earnestly upon the opposite wall, as though there he saw reacting all that i was struggling for clearness in his brain—“and I asked you to do some thing for me then—something that would aid my recovery more than all the doctor’s stuff—and you-” “No, no, I did not!” cried Mildred, vehemently, unable longer to restrain her tear of his next words, and trying passionately to withdraw her hands. “Yes, you did!” exclaimed Denzil, excitedly; “I know it now. It was not fancy—how could I ever think it was? — It was reality. Oh, Mildrtd, you kissed me.” “How dare you?" cried Miss Trevan ion, bursting into tears. “You know I did not; it is untrue—a fevered dream —anything but the truth.” “Do you say that?” he said, releas ing her, "Of course, then, it was mere imagination. Forgive me; I should not have said it, but the remembrance of it haunts me night and day. Thi9 room, too, fosters all memories. Here for the first time I told you how I loved you; and here, too, you refused me, letting me see how wild and unfounded had been my hope that you also loved me in return. Do you remember?” “Y'es, yes, I remember," Mildred answered, faintly, turning Ler face away. “Over there”—pointing to a distant couch—“we met again, after weeks of separation and oblivion—since you say that past thought of mine was but a dream—and I felt when you entered the room how undying a thing is love. Y'ou see this place is fraught with pain to me, and yet I like it. 1 like to sit here and think, and picture to mysetf those old scenes again, only giving them a kindlier ending." “Do you still care to recall them?" she asked in a low, broken vedee. “I shall always care to recall any thing connected with you,” he answer ed, simply; then—“Did I ever thank you, Mildred, for coming to my assist ance on that last hunting day? I think not. I have no recollection of ail that occurred, hut they told me how good to me you were.” “It was the very commonest human ity.” she said. “Of course that was all. Y’ou would have done the same for anyone. I know that. Still I am grateful to you.” Then suddenly, “Why did you break off with Lyndon?” “Y'ou have asked me that question before,” she said. "I know I have, and I know also how rude a question it Is to ask; and still I cannot help wishing to learn the an swer. Will you tell me?” She hesitated and then said, slowly: “He discovered, or fancied, that I did not care sufficiently for him; and ne was too honorable to marry a wom an who did not accept him willingly of her own accord.” “When did he make that discovery?” “We ended our engagement the even ing of your accident,” she answered, evasively, and with evident reluctance. “Mildred, if 1 thought," ho began, passionately, trying to read her face, “if I dared to believe what your words appear to imply 1 might be mad enough again to say to you words that have ever fallen coldly on your ear. 1 would again confess how fondly I love you—how faithfully during all these wretched months I have citing to the sweet memories of you that ever linger in my heart.” She shrunk away a little and covered her face with her hands. “Do you still turn from me, Mildred? Am I distressing you? Darling, I will say no more. It is indeed for the last time in all my life that I have now spoken. Forgive me. Mildred; I am less than a man to pain you in this way; but, oh, my dearest, do not shrink from me, whatever you do; do not let me think I have taught you to hate me by my persistence. See, I am going, and for the future do not be afraid that I shall ever again allude to this subject." He drew near her and gently kissed her hair. “Good-by," he said, once more, and then, slowly al most feebly, walked down the room toward the door. Miss Trevanion stood gazing after him, her blue eyes large and bright with fear; she had an intense longing to say she knew not what. Oh, for words to express all that was in her heart! Her hands were closely clasped to gether; her lips, pale and still, refused to move. It was the last time—he had said so; if she let him go now it was a parting that must be forever; and yet she could not speak. Her love, her life was going, and she could not utter the word that would recall him. Al ready he had turned the handle of the door; the last moment had indeed come —would he not turn? “Denzil!” she cried, desperately, breaking down by one passionate effort the barrier that had stood so long be tween them, and held out her Lauds to him. “My love!" he said, turning. And then in another moment she was in his arms and all the world was forgotten. (The End.) A Uood Cook. To be a good cook means the know ledge of all fruits, herbs, balms and spices, and of all that is healing and sweet in the fields and groves, and savory in meats. It means careful ness. inventiveness, watchfulness, wil lingness and readiness of appliance. It means the economy of our great grandmothers and the science of mod ern chemists. It means much tast ing and no wasting. It means English thoroughness, French art, and Ara bian hospitality. It means, in fine, that you are to be perfectly and al ways ladies (loafgivers), and are to see that everybody has something nice to eat.—Ruskin. EXPERIMENTS WITH FOXES. Maine Man Rear* Animal* In Order to Study Yarletle*. After eight years of experimenting and study in rearing young foxes, Dr. Samuel Watson of- Lincoln, Me., is of the opinion that the silver gray vari ety is the fox of the future, md that the common red breed Is running out, to be replaced by the worthless cross fores and the almost priceless gray ones. It has been his custom to catch f. male foxes in traps in March and to ke?p them in easy confinement until they give birth to pups. As a rule a mother fox will produce seven young at a litter, of which two or three will J3 silver grays. Until the eyes of the ins are opened and they are able to m about the pen the mother treats all f her offspring alike,giving them food -i.id protecting them from danger with a strict impartiality. After that the motherly instinct centers on the red pups and the grays have a hard strug gle to live. The mother will not only deny food them, but also take pains to bite them without any apparent provocation. In course of a few weeks the grays become emaciated and weak from lack of nourishment and care and lie down to die from starvation. In some cases the mother gets so dis gusted with the young grays .that she kills npou them and bites them to death by nipping them in the neck back of the ears. In the time he has been studying the habits of these ani mals Dr. Watson has kept more than 300 young foxes in custody, and though nearly 70 gray pups were born into the world in good healtli he lias suc ceeded in raising only six to maturity. While the experiments of Dr. Watson have not been conducted over a period long enough to arrive at accurate con clusions, it is his belief that the pro portion of gray pups in an average lit ter is slowly growing. In every in stance under his supervision the gray pups are larger and more vigorous than the reds at the time of birth, and continue to hold the lead until their parents begin their peculiar method of weeding out undesirable progeny.— Chicago Journal. V^AS CUT OUT FOR A CRITIC. Handy Man to Have About a Newspaper Office in an Emergency. The musical critic was unable to at tend the pianoforte recital, but the handy man on the paper allow-ed that he could do the thing easy enough, says the Boston Transcript. And this is how he did it: "Herr Diapson's recital last evening at Acoustic hall was the most recherche event of the musical season. Herr Diapson is a master in cantilever, and both in his automobilia and in his tour de force he wrought wonders of tonic stimulation. He was especially potent In his dolce far niente passages, and in his diminuendo cres cendo appoggiatura he displayed a technological skill that was simply wonderful. There was also a marvel ous musieianly abandon in the mute bars, the instrument in these parts of the score being forcefully impressive in silent fortissimo. But it was per haps in andante capriscioso that he excelled himself. Here he discovered a coloratura, a bravura and an ensemble that fairly electrified his audience. Herr Diapson, it is true, occasionally erred in an overponderosity of utabaga and again in a too lambent lustsplel; but these lapses were hardly notice able in bis rendering of cantabilious intermezzo. The recital, upon the whole, wras a marvelous exhibition of poca hontas instrumentation and in candescent cavatina.” Slug four, who takes lessons, said there was some thing wrong about it, although he couldn’t say exactly what, and the managing editor, upon looking the critique over, was free to admit that it was all Greek to him; still he said that it seemed to read all right, so far as he could discover to the contrary, and it was quite in the line of the regular critic’s composition—more luminous, indeed, and he didn’t see why it shouldn’t be printed. It was lucky, he said, that they had so able an all around writer on the staff. This Princess Binds Books. Princess Victoria of England, the un married daughter of Edward VII., has the most curious hobby of any in a family that has several unusual fads. She is deeply interested in book bind ing. \ few months ago several book covers sent to an exhibition in the name of “Miss Matthews” were favor ably noticed by the judges and received several prizes. Nobody knew who the exhibitor was until the prizes W’ere awarded. Then it wa3 discovered that it was the Princess Victoria. The princess takes her hobbies very seri ously. Following the leal of her moth er, Queen Alexandra, who is deeply in terested in medicine and hospital work, Princess Victoria began to study nursing some years ago. She took an examination In theoretical work and when she passed announced her in tention of becoming a hospital nurse. It was current gossip in Ixrndon at the time that the Prince and Princess of Wales had great difficulty in convinc ing her that it wouldn’t be wise for her to do so, and that Victoria sub mitted only after many tears. The Wor d’a Lon|«gt Mila. The Swedish mile is the longest mile in the world. A traveler in Swe den when told that he is only about a mile from a desired point would better hire a horse, for the distance he will have to walk if he chose in his ignor ance to adopt that mode of travel is exactly 11,700 yards. Thieve* Mol* the Watch I>oi?. A florist of Newark, N. J., kept what he believed to be a valuable watch dog chained in his greenhouse in Eliz abeth avenue as a protection against thieves. One rooming thieves not only carried off valuable plants, but also stole the watchdog, chain, collar and all. PRODUCER AND USER.] THEY ARE INTERDEPENDENT 1 UPON EACH OTHER. How the Piartlral Operation of the 1 rotectlve Principle Meet* the Ite- ! tiulrement of Legislation for the Great est tioiul of the Greatest Number. .1 D. Wilson of Randolph, Mo., re cently addressed the following to the editor of the American Economist: Conceding that the tariff on wool makes the grower money, who pays it in tiie end, the man who wears the wool_ or who? Seems to me that legis lation should be for the greatest good to the greatest number. In other words, don't more people wear wool than grow it?” Answer: Questions of this sort .he Free Traders have been asking for many, many years, always answering them to their own complete satisfac tion. In their way of looking at it protection benefits the few at the ex pense of the many. Our western friend has got it all figured out in the same way. Pity it is tliut his talents should be wasted away out in ”D3’’kest Miz zoitry!" He should have been a col lege professoi. lint we shall take him as he is and endeavor to solve his conundrum. Conceding, as he says—and this is an Important concession that the tariff on wool makes money for the wool grower, who pays it? Principally the foreign wool grower, who is compelled to accept a lower price for his product in order to sell it in the United States after ttie duty has been added. Possib ly tlie man who wears clothing made of wool pays some of the tariff, but not much. Closing is little or no higher in price than it was in days of non protected wool under the Wilson tariff law. If a suit of clothes could be bought a trifle cheaper, then the wage earner and the farmer were none the better off on that account, because neither the wage earner nor the farm er had nearly so much money to buy clothes with as they have now. If you could buy an overcoat for a dollar and didn't have the dollar to pay for it, you woudn't be anything like so well off as though overcoats were selling at $10 apiece and you had $15 in your pocket with which to buy. But the pivotal thought—the great Free Trade conception—of our Mis souri friend is to be found in his con cluding proposition that “Legislation should he for the great est good of the greatest number, in other words, don't more people wear wool than grow it?” Most assuredly legislation should he for the greatest good of the greatest number. Most assuredly more wear wool than grow it. Right here is the strength of protec tion and weakness of Free Trade. Not only does protection call for legisla tion that involves the greatest good to the greatest number; it legislates for the greatest good of the whole number. There is today in this coun try no individual—not one—who is not in some way distinctly the gainer by the policy of protection. Even the importer or the American agent for foreign merchandise is the beneficiary of a state of prosperity which has. in creased the demand and likewise the purchasing power of the most liberal body of purchasers and consumers the world has ever known. The use in the United States of foreign made articles of art, luxury and fashion was never so great as now, while the production and consumption of domestic articles of all sorts (that is to say, the gross volume of internal trade) and the sales to for eigners of articles of domestic produc tion are so much greater than ever be fore that for the first time in its his tory the United States has become the leading nation of the world alike in domestic and foreign trade, and, in stead of being in debt to the money centers of Europe, is now a creditor nation. The economic policy that has brought all this to pass may surely be considered as productive of the greatest good to the greatest number. But our Missouri friend needs some light on the question, "Don't more peo ple wear wool than grow it?” As we have said, this question must be an swered in the affirmative. So do more people eat wheat and corn and beef and mutton and pork than raise those articles. A thousand times more peo ple use nails than those who make nails. So with every article of use and consumption. The users and con sumers outnumber the producers many times over. Protection takes account of this condition and by diversifying production alike in the factory and on the farm calls into being a tremendous army whose needs and requirements are mutual and interdependent. It in sures to the American farmer a profit auie mantel ior 111s wool uy insuring a steady demand on the part of per sons who wear but do not grow wool, and by taking care that the cheaper wools of foreign countries shall not come in and break down the price of home grown wools. Otherwise the American wool grower would have to go out of business, as so many thous ands did when wool was deprived of protection in the Free Trade tariff law of 1894-1897. Is it not a wise tariff pol icy that diversifies industry in agricul ture and enables the farmer to profit ably produce articles wfhich he could not otherwise produce except at a loss, and that by creating aud furnishing employment for a vast aggregate of busy and well paid wage earners in sures to the farmer a near by, close-to horae demand at profitable prices for his products? OUTLOOK FOR FLAX AND LINEN Last year there were 2,300,000 acres given over to the raising of flax in the three states of North and South Dako ta and Minnesota; and it is reported that this year’s sowing will show an increase of 200,000 acres over the fig ures for last year. The flax industry is one more to he added to the list of in dustries which owe their establishment in this country directly to our protec tective tariff policy. It. along with tho silk industry, the tin plate industry, the steel industry, and a host of others in their turn, has been belittled and sneered at by the free traders and tho protection given to it has been opposed with violence. It is in a fair way now, however, toward attaining such pro portions that these followers of Cob den will he obliged, in order to retain any reputation, even a somewhat shaky one, for truthfulness, to drop their cry of “bogus industry,” so far as flax-raising is concerned; and the time is not very far distant when the I'nited States will he able to entirely supply its people with linen of home manufacture, as well as with native woolens and cottons and silks. HIS ATTITUDE. rreHldent McKinley Not In Sympathy with Frce-Trailn Innovation*. There is good reason to believe that the well-informed Washington corre spondent of the Philadelphia Press speaks with knowledge and authority when he asserts that President McKin ley is opposed alike to tariff revision and to the Kasson plan of reducing tariff rates by special trade treaties. The president, it is said, deprecates the opening up of the tariff question as disturbing and injurious to business interests, and the Itaboock folly of slaughtering the minor concerns by re moving all protective duties from for eign products competing with the pro ducts of the steel trust will receive no encouragement from the administra tion. With equal positiveness it is affirmed that President McKinley lias not only exerted no pressure for the ratifi cation of the French reciprocity treaty, but, on the contrary, has been in full sympathy with the protectionist op position to that ill-advised and mis chievous instrument. According to the Press correspondent the president did not examine the French treaty be fore submitting it to the senate for ap p-oval, and hence was not aware that Commissioner Kasson had agreed upon a draft distinctly designed to benefit certain industries by withdrawing , needed protection from other indus tries. With equal reason It may he taken for granted that the president had not investigated the scope and operation of the proposed Argentina treaty, which provided for a reduction of 20 per cent from the duties on wool pro vided for in the Dingley tariff law. Undoubtedly the president is in favor of reciprocal trade arrangements that shall enlarge the foreign demand for American products, but it is real and not bogus reciprocity that he fa vors—the reciprocity authorized by the Republican national platform of 1900, in "what we do not ourselves pro duce.” Those who imagine that Presi dent McKinley is today anything less than the sound and consistent protec tionist that he always was are nursing a vain delusion. The president is a friend of American labor and industry. Make no mistake about that! They Never Reflect. Philadelphia Record managers and other free traders, whose main politi cal policy is, “Anything to deprive American wage earners of em ployment and wages and enrich foreign monopoly by giving them our home market while we pay the taxes,” are still battling for a return to the robber Wilson tariff which swindled, accord ing to Samuel Gompers. two and one half millions breadwinners out of their Jobs. Do these enemies of the com mon people ever reflect that the Ruler of nations Is also the God of the poor, and that His Justice is merely delayed? HE WILL NOT SUCCEED. Kerlpronlty the Wrong Way. Let us have no tampering In the way of reciprocating treaties that do recip rocating the wrong way. To be sure such treaties carefully constructed as ! sist American industries but they do ; so, as the patterns rejected show, at the expense of certain other American industries. This, then, is not reciproc ity, but simply nothing more or less than the English tariff idea of fair trade.— Racine (Wls.i Journal. What Hors He Watt? Babcock, of Wisconsin, continues to remark that the Republicans of the j West are in favor of a reduction of i duties on articles which can be pro j duced here more cheaply than else where, and his listeners continue to wonder whether he wants the Rpuhli can party to be a party of tarifT re form. Syracuse Poet-Standard. THE DRAWING OF LOTS. Depar. onaut't 1*1 an for Allotting Lind to Nattier* Gen^rallf Approved. Thousands of communications con cerning the opening of the Kiowa and other lands in Oklahoma pour in upon the acting secretary of the interior, the assistant attorney general for the De partment of the Interior and the com missioner of the general land office, lays the Washington Star. The letters indicate that, as a rule, interested per sons approve of the plan tentatively agreed upon by the Department of the Interior, and which will be presented to the President as a suggestion, for his guidance, that the lands be select ed by settlers by drawing or casting Of lots. A minister of the gospel is among those who advocate a drawing. He prefers it to a horse race, especially where the race has no better umpire than the discarded idea that “might makes right.” It has interested the officials to note howr this minister an ticipates and answers a criticism which might be made in some quarters to the effect that a drawing would be a sort of lottery and objectionable to those who do not believe in anything which savors of chance. After point ing out that by this plan the unsuccess ful applicant pays nothing and the suc cessful applicant only gets an oppor tunity to earn the land by fully com plying with the law in the matter of payment, residence, cultivation and im provement, the minister summons the Bible to his support and shows that the casting or drawing of lots was resorted to in distributing the land of Canaan, in determining whether Mathias or Joseph, called Barsabus, should become an apostle. Willis Van Devanter, as sistant attorney general for the Inte rior Department, points out that in other instances the drawing of lots as a means of decision or selection is giv en high recognition. Two candidates receiving an equal number of votes at an election are often required to cast lots for the office. A tie vote was re cently decided in this manner in Massachusetts. By the constitutions of Arkansas, Colorado, Missouri and Ohio the judges of the Supreme Court first elected were required to cast lots to determine which should be chief jus tice and to determine each judge’s term of office. Upon the admission of a new State a drawing is had in the United States Senate to determine to which class each of the new senators shall be assigned. TRAVEL BY RAIL IN RUSSIA. From Irkutsk to Moscow Runs Famous Train Do t.uxs. A train de luxe starts from Irkutsk for Moscow, every Friday afternoon. The train, without a change of cars, runs a distance considerably greater than from Boston to San Francisco. The Paris Exposition has made famous this Siberian train de luxe, with its moving panorama, its terminal sta tions at St. Petersburg and Pekin, and its dinnners at seven francs per head. The newspaper correspondent, too, has done his share to advertise it, until the woi%d has an idea that it Is a veritable Waldorf-Astoria on wheels. We read of library cars, and both cars, gymna sium cars, where one can make a cen tury run on a stationary bicycle, ele gant dinners, barber shops, pianos, and other luxuries too numerous to mention. As a matter of fact, the train as it started from Irkutsk on the 29th day of June, 1900, was a rather shabby vestibuled train of three sleep ers, a diner and a baggage car. It was luxurious, indeed, compared with the fourth-class emigrant train on which we had been journeying, but it is still many degrees behind the best Amer ican trains. It should be remarked, however, that the best cars had been sent to Paris for the exposition. One curiosity on this particular train de luxe was that the first and second class cars were precisely alike in every particular, while the difference of price was nearly forty roubles in favor of the second-class. One would think that the second-class cars would he overcrowded and the first-class would be empty. Such was not the case, for I found every cabin in the first-class taken, and was able to get a large four berth stateroom in one of the second class cars for little more than I would pay for two berths in the first-class car. The fares in Siberia are remark ably cheap. For the whole stateroom I paid less than $120 from Irkutsk to Moscow, a distance of 350 miles; this included four fares and the supplemen tary price of the train de luxe.—Har per's Weekly. _ Browing NnUence. "The tipping habit is a nuisance," said a young Philadelphia man who makes $40 a week and spends $50. "Aft er breakfast 1 want a glass of beer and it is necessary for me to toss the bar tender a dime and tell him to keep the other nickel. I get shaved and hand a quarter to the barber, who retains the change. While the shaving is going on an attendant has been polishing my boots, and though his charge is only a nickel I have to give him a dime to keep him in good humor. At luncheon the waiter must have a half-dollar, and If in the evening I sit in a cafe, a dime or two must be handed out with every round of drinks. BUmarck'* I'hlloiuiphy of I,lr«. With dutiful trust in God, dig in the ^purs and let life, like a wild horse, take you flying over hedge and ditch, resolved to break your neck, and yet fearless, inasmuch as you must some time part from all that is dear to you on earth—though not forever. If grief is near, well, let him come on, but until he arrives do not merely look bright and blessed, but be it, too; and when sorrow comes upon you bear it with •ignity—that is to say, with submis sion and hope.—From the "Love Let 1 \ere of Prince Bl§marck.”