CHAPTER XX.—Continued.
I looked up speechless. Robinson
"Locke met my startled glance with
■cool contempt.
“That you saved my life?” repeated
Helena, in wonder.
“Have I robbed my gallant country
man of your gratitude, Mi^s Brett?”
he demanded carelessly.
“Then it was you who rushed down
the stairway?” I stammered, my face
hot with shame.
“Yes, sir,” he said, sternly, “it was
I. It is not a pleasant duty to expose
the cowardice oL an acquaintance,
Miss Brett. I court! have forgiven him
his terror. But that he should mas
querade as a hero while I was vainly
attempting to pursue the blackguard
who tried to murder you—that is a
little too much.”
I confronted him, my hands clench
ed in my rage. But I did not speak.
A defense was impossible. I stared at
him in silence.
“I am afraid," he sneered, “that you
are rather fond of wearing the lion's
skin. I believe I had an appointment
with you this morning at ten o’clock.”
“With me!” I cried, hotly. “No!”
“Then you did not receive the note
placed on your pillow last night? Ah,
so you did receive it, after all, Sir
Mortimer—I beg your pardon, Mr.
Haddon.”
I turned from him; I looked at
Helena. Our eyes met. I did not say
one word; I did not beseech even by
a look. I had asked her to trust me,
but I had not looked for a situation
like this. Her eyes fell before mine
and they had told me nothing.
“I shall leave you to your interview
w-ith Mr. Locke,” she said quietly.
CHAPTER XXI.
I Am Trusted Until Midnight.
“Now, Haddon, what is the game?”
Locke had seated himself. He had
selected with care a cigar from his
case (which he did not offer to me),
and was regarding me with the brutal
amusement of one who has come
across a snake sunning in the white
road, and who heads off its desperate
attempt to escape with a walking
stick.
I was silent. I refused to be cate
chised like a schoolboy. Had I met
Locke, his mind still unprejudiced
against me, I should gladly ha*e told
him everything, even at the risk of
making myself ridiculous in his eyes.
But his mind was so evidently made
up regarding me, his interference had
been so fatally ill-timed, that I could
not bring myself to the humiliating
position of one who beseeches—of one
who explains, only to be doubted after
all.
The episode in the porter’s lodge
was even new far from clear. I have
already said that I knew that Helena’s
escape was not due to any heroism of
mine.
Dr. Starva had concealed himself be
hind the glass partition of the porter's
lodge in the landing. Unobserved, I
had stood flat against the wall, watch
ing him.
I had seen Helena coming up the
stairs; I had seen Dr. Starva level his
revolver at her; I had heard the crash
of glass and the report of a revolver.
I had supposed that Starva had fired
and missed.
Now it appeared that Locke's shot
had shattered the glass of the lodge,
while Starva had not fired at all. But
why Locke should have been in the
ftalrway—why he should have been
concealed there—was not so clear.
Certainly 1 had no intention of humil
iating myself further by asking for an
explanation.
“Come; I’m waiting,’’ he cried
sharply.
“You are waiting—for what?” I de
manded with an assurance I did not
feel. I was playing for time. Should
1, or should I not, try to make all
clear to Locke? That was the ques
tion I was asking myself over and
over.
“You remember I warned you. 1
told you you were a pawn In the
clever hands of Countess Sarahoff. I
prefer to think that you are her tool
rather than her accomplice. But if
you have been fool enough to allow
yourself to be caught In the net of her
intrigue, if you have made your inter
ests at one with hers, you must expect
to pay the piper as well as she.”
“1 see. Yon are Nemesis dogging
me to justice?”
I had decided. No matter what hap
pened I would Keep my own counsel
for the present. I was not to be bul
lied into a confession.
“So you admit that the law has its
terrors for you,” cried Locke quickly.
“And are you Justice or the Law in
disguise? By heaven, you are assum
ing a rather high-handed manner.
V hat the devil is your right to play
the part of inquisitor?”
“Gently gently. I said nothing about
my right.”
“Then I might ask what is your
game?”
“I make no pretense to any right.
I happen to hold the cards. That’s
all.”
“By that you mean, I suppose, that
you have put two and two together
and made the sum of five. Well, per
haps I say your arithmetic is at fault,
and perhaps I don’t choose to enter
into an argument to enlighten you.”
“We shall see,” said Locke quietly.
“Now, Haddon, don’t think that I am
simply amusing myself. I am only
too willing to give you every benefit of
the doubt. You are an American; you
have been at the same university as
myself; you have suffered from an
unpleasant notoriety the past week or
two. I went to your hotel at Lucerne
and offered you my friendship—”
“And you come as a friend now?
Scarcely, you will admit that.”
“I offered you my friendship. I
showed my sincerity by taking you
more or less into my confidence. I
gave you a chance to confide in me in
return. I had seen you fascinated by
a woman whom I knew to be a dan
gerous companion. When I warned
you, you were clever enough to affect
a disingenious innocence.”
“What shrewd observers you news
paper men are!”
“That very evening.” continued
Locke, frowning, “you dine with her
and her accomplice—not openly in the
restaurant, but in her own sitting
room. Late that evening, in company
of Dr. Starva, you take the boat for
Vitznau. You install yourself with
him in the suite of Sir Mortimer Brett.
You assume his character; more than
that, you don his very cloak and hat.
As Sir Mortimer, then, you have access
to his rooms.”
“Let me compliment you on the ad
mirable manner in which you . have
played the spy. You traced me, then,
from the hotel to the boat, and thence
to the hotel?”
“Not at all. I preferred to keep an
eye on the big fish in the puddle. It
was Madame de Varnier, alias the
Countess Sarahoff, whom I was watch
ing. I knew that the moth would fol
low the flame. When I had assured
“And does It not seem to you strange
that the partner of Madame de Var
nier’s Intrigues should distrust her to
the extent of spying cn her move
ments?”
Locke pulled at his cigar thought
fully. I awaited his answer not with
out interest.
“It did indeed raise the faint hope
in my breast,” he returned cynically,
"that my friend Haddon perhaps was
not so guilty as the circumstances had
proved him to be. But. when I remem
ber that Captain Forbes was insisting
■on his right to see Sir Mortimer, I
could understand that my quondam
friend Haddon was anxious for his
own neck. I- guessed that he was lis
tening to* the futile attempts of the
adventurers to deny Captain Forbes
admission to the bedchamber of the
psuedo Sir Mortimer.”
“You have an answer for every
question.”
“I can put two and two together
and make four,” returned .Locke com
placently.
“But if one of those numbers is x,
the unknown quantity? The addition
is then not quite so simple.”
^“And the American tourist, Mr. Had
don, is the great unknown quantity, i
suppose.”
He looked at me with cool, level
eyes. A big man. in body, brain and
heart. Locke had both the virtues of
bigness and its faults. To crush ob
stacles—that was his method. Finesse
he despised. He went to the end in
view in a direct line, ruthlessly throw
ing aside any obstruction, physical or
moral, that hindered.
Such a man arrives invariably. He
is not to be denied. But he blunders
often. He arouses in some natures an
instinctive antagonism—a latent ob
stinacy—that arrays itself against him
quietly but determinedly. He makes
an enemy when he might have made
a friend.
For example, Locke has made up his
"What the Devil Is Your Right to Play the Part of Inquisitor?”
myself that our beautiful adventuress
had retired to her room across the
corridor from Sir Mortimer’s suite, I
had nothing to do but await the ar
rival of the poor little moth, en
sconced in a comfortable chair with
my cigarette. Allow me to return the
compliment and congratulate you on
your perfect success in masquerading
as the sick Sir Mortimer. It was a de
lightful little bit of comedy.”
Had Locke taken the boat in the
company of. Dr. Starva and myself he
would doubtless have observed the
episode of the brandy, and drawn his
conclusions. His attitude toward me
would then have been very different.
He would have seen for himself that
the comedy I enacted was for the
benefit of Dr. Starva. If I ignored
Locke’s suspicions of me even now, if
I gave to him my confidence at this
late date, would he believe that? Im
possible!
I raged at the network of chance
that enmeshed me, but I did not at
tempt to extricate myself. I had lain
passive too long. I was trusting
blindly to fortune. More than ever I
was determined to wait my own time
before I made my position clear. If
I carried my plans to a successful
conclusion, the result would justify
my actions; if I failed. I should at
least have held to my purpose.
“Having seen Dr. Starva and your
self safely landed in Sir Mortimer’s
rooms,” continued Locke, “I am free
to join my acquaintance, Captain
Forbes, in the garden, meanwhile
keeping an inquisitive eye cocked to
ward the shutters of Sir Mortimer’s
salon. And Captain Forbe s, as well ■
as myself, has his own interests in
the missing Sir Mortimer. Presently
he sees the light shining through
those shutters. He is overjoyed to
observe that Sir Mortimer is returned,
and more than overjoyed that he can
at last rid himself of the burden of
his dispatches. You know how he did
that, even better than myself.*”
“And you are waiting for me to en
lighten you?”
“All in good time, my dear Mr. Had
don. But I have not yet shown you
all my hand. Were I tc call your
game now, you might think I had a
couple of aces at the most. I am go
ing to show you that I have a' royal
flush.”
"It is hard to beat a royal flush, I
admit,” I said lightly.
“I await developments, ’hen, in the
garden. My vigilance is soon reward
ed. Shuttera are thrown stealthily
back; my classmate Haddon tiptoes
onto the balcony; he listens outside
the shutters of the salon.”
mind that an American, a man of his
own university, could not in the nature
of things be a coward. Very well, he
offers him his friendship in blind
faith. But presently this man inter
feres with his plans—goes his way
without consulting the newly acquired
friend. When, therefore, circumstances
place this acquaintance in an ugly
light he is quite as ready to believe
the bad as he had been ready to be
lieve the good.
In a word, Locke imagined that he
had done more than hjs duty In offer
ing his friendship and confidence.
When he made up his mind that this
friendship and confidence was not re
turned, his friendship turned to in
tense dislike. There was no middle
course for him.' He enjoyed a fight
quite as much as a love feast, perhaps
better.
“To resume my narrative,’’ drawled
Locke, “you disappear within the
chamber. My friend Forbes is having
his little interview with you. But
presently I see you again at the win
dow, packet in hand. You lean far
out; you toss the packet into the ba
sin of an empty fountain. The shut
ters are closed. Your work is finished
for the night. And so is mine—that
is, after I have rescued from the
empty fountain the packet.
“Which you promptly returned to
Captain Forbes, no doubt.”
“Who has a greater right to It?”
returned Locke coolly.
But he had not returned it to
Forbes; I was sure of that. Locke
was a newspaper man trained in the
school of modern journalism. He had
determined on a grand coup for his
paper. If the sealed dispatch prom:
ised to be of assistance to’ “him he
would break the seal.
That would not suit me at all. My
task was £o hush up the scandal of
Sir Mortimer Brett and his mistress.
Locke was determined to give it the
fullest publicity. Our ends were utter;
ly at variance. Every sentence of his
recital made me see that more clearly.
I saw, too, that the object of his
story was to overwhelm me with the
certainty that I must make a full con
cession to him or slider those conse
quences. My one hope was to avert
those consequences until my inter
view with Madame de Varnier. I
hoped everything from that.
For the present I need fear nothing
from Forbes. Helena had given me
her word that she would trust me until
midnight. But the silence of Helena
' and Forbes was useless unless Locke
also was silent. I awaited the rest of
his narrative with anxious concern.
“The next morning I bestir myself
early, you may be sure of that Cap
tain Forbes’ rest had been equally
perturbed. Together we discover the
startling fact that, early as we had
aroused ourselves, our patient with
his nurse and physician had been even
more energetic. But my discovery is
of a nature more dramatic than that of
the king's messenger. He imagines
that it is Sir Mortimer who has fled.
I am forced to the reluctant conclu
sion that it is Mr. Ernest Haddon,
American tourist, masquerading as
the diplomatist. Sir Mortimer Brett.
Is it necessary that I enter into ex
planations for this discovery, or shall
we take the fact for granted?”
“Take it for granted by all means,
since you have already taken so much
for granted.”
“I shall not bore you much longer.
Captain Forbes and myself join
forces. I needed but one argument to
persuade him to do that. I knew
where Madame de Varnier and her fel
low conspirators were bound; Captain
Forbes did not.”
“And Mrs. and Miss Brett—did you
reveal your suspicions to them?”
“So far,” Locke looked at me sig
nificantly, “I have revealed them to no
one. We arrive at Alterhoffen, then,
the four of us. Captain Forbes insists
on storming the chateau. With what
result you know better than I. As for
myself, I prefer to keep my counsel,
and, first of all, to give my friend
Haddon a friendly hint. I bribe one of
the servants at the castle to convey a
note to him requesting the honor of
an interview at ten this morning. My
friend Haddon denies me the honor of
an interview. Then if the mountain
wrill not come to Mohammed, Moham
med must go to the mountain.
“I am directed to the castle by the
stairway that leads to the village
street. I have not descended a dozen
steps of the gloomy stairway when I
hear some one coming up th^m in fu
rious haste. Naturally, I pause; and
quite as naturally 1 taite tne precau
tion of placing my hand on the revol
ver in my hip pocket, which I carry
with me, remembering the fate of my
acquaintance. Captain Forbes.
“To my surprise the person in this
extraordinary haste conceals himself
in the little glass-covered room at the
angle of the stairs. I descend the
steps cautiously and curiously. There
are other surprises in store for me.
First of all I see a second figure staod
ing flat against the wall. As my eyes
become accustomed to the darkness
I am startled to discover that the man
concealed in the lodge has a revolver
in his hand. For the moment I think
he is lying in wait for myself. But
almost immediately I hear steps from
below. There is a click as the trigger
is cocked. I am averse to bloodshed
—even the killing of a would-be mur
derer. I fire, not at him, but to shat
ter the pane of glass and divert his
aim.
“Now for my last, surprise. The as
sassin, rather tardily I must say, ha3
been grappled with by the man who
had concealed himself against the
wall and was apparently awaiting de
velopments. But the would-be' assas
sin has succeeded in freeing himself
from this very faint-hearted assailant.
I pursue the assassin; he eludes cap
ture; I return ruefully to the hotel to
find—my friend Haddon receiving the
warm thanks of the heroine for saving
her life.”
“A great deal of this is ancient his
tory,” I said, my voice trembling with
shame and rage, “such of it as is not
fiction. You return, then, to unmask
the would-be hero. And now, what?”
“And now,” said Locke in a deep
voice,-his face thrust close to mine,
“I want to know this: Why were you
hiding in that stairway? Why did you
stand there passively while the man
was committing the act of murder be
fore your eyes? Why did you pretend
to struggle with the assassin, pretend
to struggle, I say?”
“Even a coward will fight,; I suppose,
when he is cornered.” I said bitterlv.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
I _'
To An Audience of One
And He Was the Janitor of the Opera
House.
“I never see it snow but I am re
minded of one night in Colorado,'’ said
Jess B. Fulton, of the Fulton Stock
company, a few days ago, as he watch
ed the white falling llakes. “We were
playing in Colorado one night stands,
and we struck a small town in the
mining country. It snowed all day,
and at night you could not see a foot
ahead for the blinding storm. Some
how the members of the company
reached the theater and then waited
for the audience to come. In abont an
hour a man entered and took a seat
near the door. A consultation was
held back of the scenes, and I was se
.... , « -W". . if, -'J . ' -
lecuid to go out and explain the situa
tion to the audience. I stepped in
front of the curtain and, clearing my
throat, said:
“Sir, I am glad to see that the storm
did not keep you away. We have de
cided to leave to you the question of
whether we will have the show or not
You are the only man here, and to
morrow night we must make the next
stand. We will give the play Just ,as
billed, if you ask it, but if you" have
no obj—'*
“Say, pardner," interrupted the man,
'1 wish you would cut out that flow
of gab and let me shut up this here
house. Don’t you suppose the janitor
wants to go home some time? When
there ain’t nobody cornin’ let me lock
up, will you?”—Kansas City Star.
DINNER FOR FOUR
DAInYy REPAST THAT CAN BE
SERVED FOR A DOLLAR.
(Carcfiil Planning and Proper Prepa
'‘•rations .All That Is Needed for'
This Correct and Sat
, isfylng Meal.
A dinner for four is a modest
enough undertaking for the little bride
who knows a thing or two about cook
ing, but a; dinner for four, to cost not
over $1, is a rather more difficult prop
osition. It is perfectly possible, how
ever to accomplish this task if the
cook is willing to plan carefully.
To start with, a simple outline of
the menu could be something like
this: Savory tomato soup, followed
by broiled lamb chops, with mashed
potatoes and string beans, an aspar
agus salad for a third course, and the
dessert of strawberries.
In making the tomato soup for the
first course, it is possible to utilize
small portions of cooked vegetables,
which may be on hand. If there are
a few boiled potatoes, a half cupful
of string beans, and another portion
of peas or other vegetable, they will
make a good beginning. Add to them
two raw onions finely chopped, and a
handful of mince parsley, together
with a couple of ounces of butter, and
a seasoning of salt and pepper. After
these ingredients have simmered for
a few minutes, add a can of tomatoes.
Season with a teaspoonful of allspice
and a tablespoonful of sugar. Cook
this slowly for a half hour and then
strain through a fine sieve. Thicken
the soup with a teaspoonful of corn
starch, mixed with the same amount
of melted butter. Serve the soup gar
nished with Bmall strips of fried
bread.
For the meat course have the lamb
chops broiled to a perfect brown and
serve them on a pretty platter, or bet
ter still, a chop plate, with the pota
toes arranged in the center. Stand the
chops up around the mound of pota
toes.
The string beans should be broiled
till tender and drained. Cook for two
or three minutes in a little butter and
cream and serve very hot.
The asparagus for the salad should
be cooked in salted water and then
cut into pieces an inch long. Chill for
several hours on the ice and serve
with a dressing made of ^he grated
yolks of two hard boiled eggs, beaten
up with three talespoonfuls of oil,
the same amount of vinegar, a salt
spoonful of salt and the same quan
tity of French mustard.
Thre strawmerries for dessert may
be served with sugar and cream, or
may be cooked in little tarts and
served with a spoonful of whipped
cream on each.
Maple Transparency.
Place an Iron frying pan on the
stove and into it put one-half cup but
ter, one-half cup sugar, and one cup
maple molasses. While this is melt
ing break in four fresh eggs, not beat
en, and stir sufficiently to prevent the
eggs from cpoking in a mass. Cook
and stir until the mixture is dry
nearly in the frying pan and is trans
parent in color. Then remove from
the fire and let stand while you line
a deep pudding dish with a rich pie
crust. Add one cupful of juicy fruit
to the transparent mixture, pour into
the pudding dish, and bake. Tart
fruit is best, such as cherries or rasp
berries, but any leftover will do so
long as it is juicy, because if it is not
tart enough a tablespoonful of vine
gar may be added.
Chicken Croquettes.
One cup of cold chicken chopped
fine, the same quantity of fine bread
crumbs; one-half can of mushrooms,
cut in small pieces; a small piece of
onion grated; a little parsley chopped
fine, one-half teaspoon of salt, one
fourth teaspoon of white pepper;
make a cream sauce of three-fourths
of a cup of milk, one tablespoon of
bqtter,. and one of flour; when cold
blend ysith the above ingredients, mold
in a small wine glass, and egg and
crumb them, instead of cooking them
in lard. Butter a pan thickly and
bake in good oven. Insert a sprig of
parsley in each and if desired serve
with a rich cream sauce.
Keep Screens From Binding.
When you put on your screens, if
you find that they bind, don’t fuss and
waste your strength trying to force
them into place, but scrape the paint
oft the grooved edges, using a piece of
broken glass or sandpaper, then
grease the runs (grooved edges) with
lard. If your screen door binds on
the bottom plug with soft wood the
lower hinge holes in door frame, then
with opposite end of door, when
closed, resting on a match, attach
lower hinge in new place. To put
screws into hard wood first make small
hole with nail or drill, then coat screw
with wet soap before inserting.
Shortcake With Ice Cream.
Bake a large sponge cake in a round
tin. aijd while warm cut off the top
and take out most of the inside
crumb; when perfectly cold fill this
center with a plain white ice cream,
replace the cover and put powdered
sugar and berries over the top and a
ring of berries around the edge; in
cutting slice through.—Harper’s Ba
zaar.
Pineapple and Celery Salad.
Cut onerhalf cup of celery and one
tablespoon of pepper in small pieces
and mix with one cup of shredded
pineapple! Add one tablespoon of nuts,
mix with mayonnaise, and when very
cold serve on curly lettuce leaves or
in apple, shaddock or orange cups.—
Good Housekeeping.
To Keep Meat* Fresh.
A barrel filled altout half full of
fresh charcoal, with wooden slats
nailed across the top in which sev
eral meat hooks are driven, is most
useful for keeping meats fresh in
summer. It should l»e covered with a
piece of wire netting fastened to a
wooden hoop. . '
* ■ —-----!
Gleaning Tips.
After washing they are beaten upon
a table or broad prepared beforehand
by being thickly covered with flannel.
The method of beating is, first up,
then down, continuously until all the
fibers are aloe and Huffy.
Mr. William A. Radford will answer
questions and glfe advice FREE OF
COST on all subjects pertaining to the
subject of building for the readers of this
paper. On account of his wide expe
rience as Editor, Author and Manufac
turer, he Is. without doubt, the -highest
authority on all these subjects. Address
all Inquiries to William A. Radford, No.
194 Fifth Ave., Chicago, 111., and only
enclose two-cent stamp for reply,
A very roomy cottage and one well
adapted to a growing family is given
in this plan. There are six rooms
and a bathroom on the ground floor
and a chance to make two splendid
bedrooms in the two principal
gables. It is not a very expensive
house to build, although it is 34 feet
wide and 60 feet long. Under favor
able circumstances it should be built
complete for about $1,600, and it con
tains as much room as an ordinary
eight room two-story house with a
a greater opportunity for closets and
storage room.
One fault with modern houses is
the lack of storage. It is a great con
venience to have plenty of room and
to have places to put things so you
can find them without digging them
out from under a whole lot of other
things. People who live in cities ex
pect to be crowded, because there is
not room enough to go around, but
in the smaller places every one should
be accommodated with all the room
they need and a little to spare.
I like to see a house big enough
tc supply a separate bedroom for each
person in the house. It is a great
deal more healthful and a good deal
more satisfactory. Every person is
more or less selfish, and each one
likes to have his or her own way,
and the only solution is to have plenty
of room so every one can be accom
modated.
There are different ways of doing
this. One is to build a big house and
spend a lot of money, the other is to
build a smaller house that is better
planned. Give less room to halls and
parlors and more room for the com
fort and convenience for the regular
inhabitants, less show and more util
ity. There is a certain amount of
run a pipe to it from a filter connected
with the bottom of the cistern. Then
all you need is pipes to carry the wa
ter and an air pump to force air into
the .boiler shell to force the water
into the bathroom and up to the
kitchen sink. In rural communities
old boiler shells may be bought for
very little money. Shells that are
no longer safe for steam pressure may
be used for water tanks with great
satisfaction.
The waste water from the bathroom
and from the kitchen is easily taken
care of by a cesspool which need not
cost to exceed $10. This arrange
ment does away with carrying water
either in or out, a saving in labor
which is sufficient to pay the entire
cost in one year, and the machinery
is there for use as long as you
want it
It is not necessary to have a very
large tank, but of course the larger
it is the less attention it requires..
A tank holding six or eight barrels
would probably hold water enough to
last a week and by carefully filtering
the water the tank will not need
cleaning out more than once a year.
Place the top of the tank as low as
the bottom of the cistern, so it may
be filled by gravity. Put the air
pump in the kitchen so the pressure
may be increased easily without run
ning down cellar to do it, and have
all the connections air tight. Of
course any boiler shell that is steam
tight is also water tight and air tight.
You need a little fall to carry the
waste water away to the cesspool, but
of course all houses are built • on '
ground that is high enough to pro
vide drainage. An arrangement of
this kind when properly put in is just
as serviceable as water supply and
sewer drainage in cities. Such cdn
vehiences cost no more in the first
place than city water and sewer con
nections, and the home outfit is
cheaper to run afterwards. City water
costs an average householder from
eight to ten dollars per year, and the
city man is just as liable for repairs
satisfaction in showing off your habi
tation to friends and strangers, but
there is very little real solid comfort
in it. Most of them praise you to
your face and criticise you afterwards.
I have found this out, that it is very
difficult to please everybody, and I
would rather please my own family
than to waste a lot of time in a use
less attempt to please others. I would
rather build a cottage like this for
$1,600 and have a bedroom each for
the boys and girls than to put up an
elaborate house costing twice the
money with the expectation of making
a good deal more show.
I like this cottage house for this
reason; it gives a grand opportunity
to establish a home for the family that
will foster contentment and happi
ness. It costs more theoretically to
heat a cottage house than a regular
two-story structure, but practically
you get more comfort for the same
1 1.00It PLAN
amount of coal in a well built cottage
house than you do in anything else.
Of course cottage houses are always
built in small towns or in rural com
munities where coal is cheaper, be
cause storage is not so much of an ob
ject and because it costs less to haul
it and to handle it. One great ad
vantage of living in a small town is
the cheapness of fuel and provisions.
What we eat constitutes a large part
of our living, then if we have money
enough left to buy coal and wood we
ought to be happy. Most of us get
more than we deserve, but we don’t
realize it at the time.
There is a good comfortable bath
room in this house and that is a thing
to be recommended even in cottages.
With a bathroom on the first floor and
an attic like this over the Icltchen the
water Bupply is easily managed. Teu
just build a cistern at the back of the
bouse and put an old boiler shell in
the cellar for a reservoir tank and
as the man who 1ms his own water
and sewer system, and city plumber’s
charges are enough to scare a person
to death.
Two Famous Bells.
Two monster church bells, the
“Bummerin” in Vienna and the “Sav
oyarde” in Paris, have been the sub
ject of much discussion recently.
“They are both silent bells,’’ says a
writer in a Hamburg paper, “but for
different reasons.” The Vienna' bell,’
cast in 1711'from captured Turkish
guns, hangs in the tower of St. Steph- ‘
an’s, and for many years its deep *
tones boomed from the belfry, call
ing people to prayer and to assem'
blages of joy and of sorrow. But' the
nerves of old St. Stephan’s could not
stand the heavy thundering, and the
“Bummerin” was silenced. Now
there is an agitation to build a suit
able tower for the bell. The French
silent bell was a gift from the peo
ple of Savoy for the Church of the
Sacred Heart at Montmartre. Before
the monster could be placed in a bel
fry It was discovered that In casting
or transporting the bell had sustained
a fracture, and that vandals had'
bored holes in the outer part and had
filled them with lead, thus ruining the
great bell’s voice. Nothing remains but.
to recast the bell. This will take
some time' aid when it has been ac
complished the firmament In religious
France may have cleared to such an
extent that the bell may be christened 1
as Schiller’s bell—“Concordia.” *' " "
The Spanish of It,, . .
In 1876 the late John Hay, who died
as secretary of state, and- Alvey A.
Adee, who is now second assistants -
secretary of state, were serving, to
gether in the legation at Madrid. ,
They were intensely interested ill1
the outcome of the Republican nation:
al convention, and spent days wonder-' • '*
ing who would be nominated’. > ’One f< '
morning they found this item in a*.-"'
Madrid newspaper: ■ “Rutebart lit. ’■
Noyes, of America, has been elected '
president of the republic of • the '•
North.” • -• 'i
That was as near as the Spanish
editor could get to the bulletin: '
“Rutherford B. Hayes has been ' hom
in'* ted for president by the Republl- ‘ ■
can national convention,” and it todk
Adee and Hay a week to figure it out. '
—Saturday Evening Post.
\ Kept the Pledge.
“Yes, it is a common thing for art
ists to fool themselves about their
work,” said Robert Hyde. “They are >
like the man who took the pledge, t?- ••• . •
“A minister saw this man’s daugh- >/'
ter hastening homeward with a pail of „
fresh, foaming beer. He halted her’ • , •
and said: . i. >• v*.<!.
“‘My dear child, where are you-tek- - '
ing.that beer?’ ..... , *
“ ‘Home to father, sir.’
“‘But surely your father doesn’t
drink beer,’ said the minister, ‘new
that he has signed the pledge?’
“‘Oh, no, sir,’ said the glrL ‘He
don’t drink It. He only soaks bis
bread In It’ ”
