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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Fordwich Record, 1901-09-19, Page 7g.CiAtit(*Af4lielD-34)1W+E.+Aket+41)li 0-**YtEGMe.:491Rie-34)1431("YiSIVIM f The_........a. I Or t Z The Wooing 4 I Red Witch i 2f Constantin. t 40/4*.lf:•+-VIEleXiVitisiVA****•-iiife5iC343431E4e3f44€4.44+0****. )1% CHAPTER VI. Midnight had struck when a young man crossed the hall of Araglin, and looked Somewhat vaguely round him. It was late to arrive anywhere, and ci course there was no one to wel- come him, or put him au fait with his surroundings. lie wandered ra- ther aimlessly through the salon on his left, and, avoiding the ball-room which was unmistakable because of the fiddling, went for a quiet little nook of a place that appeared to hint to be empty of everything hu- man. and a prey only to flowers and a dripping fountain. It was badly lit, and he was quite into it before he discovered that humanity after all had a place there-a humanity re- mote from himself. A slender form clothed in lace was bending .over a cactus. The amor- ous plant had seized her dainty robe and was holding it fast in spite of all the owner'S efforts to release it. O'Grady wont forward, and addres- sed himself to her. "Perhaps I can, set you free," he said. "Let me at least try. A cac- tus is such a hurtful thing, and you are wounding your fingers.!" "If you think you can," she said; she lifted her head and looked at tin, "I have been very awkward. She paused, and O'Grady, stooping over her ' strove with the prickly plant for mastery. Eventually he gained. She stood released, and gave him as his reward a lovely smile. It parted her lips and shone In her lustrous eyes. "I am indeed indebted to you," the said courteously. She regarded aim very thoughtfully for a few mo- &eats. "I do not think I saw you be- fore this evening," she remarked at last in a gentle, gracious tone. O'Grady smiled. It was surely a singular speech for a girl to make to an utter stranger, but as said by her It plelsed him, and besides she struck him as being altogether unlike the ordinary run of people. -That is true." he told her. I ar- rived quite late. I meant to be here yesterday if possible-that, is at my cousin Featherston's place-but I found it impossible to get here until to-night; an hour ago, in fact. The last train. brought me so you can Imagine what little time I had to hurry into my clothes and get here. To tell you the truth," here he laughed involuntarily, and lowered his voice to a confidential tone, "knowing nothing of my hcietess, I had no great desire to get here at all, but Featherston. was imperative; and now that I am here," with a lingering glance at her, "I am more thee glad I came." His companion blushed vividly, and an expression he failed to under- stand widened her eyes. Was it sur- prise, perplexity? And if so, why? "Your cousin lives at the Grange, I think," she said at last. "Yes. You know him perhaps? I have been in Egypt for the past year or - more, and on my return to Eng- land was quite glad to receive an in- vitation from him to my native shore. It seemed to me- sick of arid plains-an excellent thing to Come down here and thoroughly vegetate for a bit. I am Irish of course, my name is guarantee for that, but I had not seen the dis- tressful country for many a year. It has left itself open to comment, be- yond doubt-to abuse, perhaps; but," With an irrepressible glance at her, "It certainly has its compensa- tions." Again that curious look flitted across her face. ` Truly It is an unhappy land," she said. Her tone was colder this time-, and she regarded him with what might be almost termed dis- ,trost. 'This distressed him, though ho Istirdly then auderstood .why, or what it was that had befallen him; he only felt that he could not remove In s eyes from the face before him. Its calmness, its polity, the extreme beauty of its gentleness, touched his very soul. And there was a sadness about -it too, that enhanced rather than detracted from its charm. Ho was astonished at his admiration, but not displeased; yet it did occur to him as strange that he. should have travelled over half the known globe, only to return to his starting point to find the one woman at whose feet he would choose to lay his heart. All this was vague to him as yet; but still he knew-vaguely, too, in- deed-that his fate was sitting -there near him, grave, and a little cold, perhaps, but only as he would have her. Who was she-this calm, still girl? "You are not dancing," she said presently; "you say you came late, and perhaps--" -So absurdly late, that it is of no use, I imagine, to think of partners. lInlesa, indeed-of course, I know no one. 1,did not even present myself to Lady-:-Varlet/-a' rudeness, certain- ly, but one I dare say she will con- done, when she knows at what an unearthly hour I put in an appear- ance-that is, indeed, if she hears of me at all." At this she started, and looked to- wards him as if to speak, when some one passing by her, laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. It was a large, distinguished-looking woman, at the gene-sous side of forty. "You here, Yolanda?" exclaimed she, smiling. "You are a wraith-a veritable spirit. I was positive I saw you in the supper room a mo- ment since, and yet now-,-" "Perhaps you did; to-night I am ubiquitous." The new-coiner laugh- ed and went on. but O'Grady hardly poticed her departure. Yolande! How the name suited her! Surely it was made for the pale, statuesque creature beside hint; could any other so well befit the clear, soft eyes, the open brow, the pure, sweet lips? Yolande! No Ugh-born chatelaine of olden days could have showed a haughtier pro- file, a serener smile, a glance more kind, or more replete with gentle dignity, When bar friend had gone by she turned to hint. "You were saying--" she began, and then hesitated as if in doubt as how to proceed. "I was saying how I had omitted to present myself to my hostess." replied he, gayly: "An omission I have no doubt she will appreciate. Poor woman, I expect it was a kind- ness to relieve her of so much of her duty." "You think," said she, looking downwards at the fan she was idly swaying to and fro "that Lady Var- ley is one who would willingly evade a duty?", "I am not thinking of her at all," declared he, laughing. "Why should I? - Strangers we are,- strangers we shall probably remain. She knows as little of me as I do of her." "As little, indeed," said she slow- ly. "But let me tell you—" "Alt! if you are a friend of hers," exclaimed he, rising too, and speak- ing with a sudden accession of ear- neatness, "tell her from me, that though I have not had the pleasure of being made known to her, that when I had only been half an hour in her house, I knew a greater happi- ness titan I had ever more exper- ienced." "Sir," said she very gently, "I am Lady Varley!" CHAPTER VII. It was about this time that the greatest difficulty of his life was ex- perienced by Mr. Stronge. This was to keep away from the Cottage, as Miss IfcGillicuddy's very unpreten- tious residence was called. There was something in it-literally in it.- that attracted him to all extraordin- ary degree. 'His own place, Inchirone, was situ- ated about five mica from it; yet there was scarcely a morning that Mr. Stronge did not discover some special business that led him past the modest gate behind which dwelt Con- stantia. To-day-having absented himself, with a' courage that was Spartan, from The Cottage for nine days-he felt he might call there without be- ing regarded with coldness, or snub- bed as a too persistent visitor. It was a fine May afternoon, and as he walked up the steps and knocked at the hall-door, the extreme beauty of the hour, the season entered into him. Thp door was opened pre- sently by the demure Minnie, who wore, besides a jubilant air-that sat very much at home upon her pretty face-a new and remarkably smart cap. It was trimmed with cherry colored ribbons, and was of a most abnornally small size. • "Miss McGillicuddy is not in sir," she said in answer to hes question. "She is off to Dubiing, but Miss Con- - and Miss Norah's at home.- Come in, sir; they an' the young gintlemen is in the garden up to some game or another. They'll be real plazed to see ye, for there hasn't been a soWl near the place all the mornine " Stronge went into the shabby little drawing-room to wait for Constan- tia, feeling almost as glad as Minnie herself that Miss McGillicuddy was in Dublin. That meant absence from The Cottage for a day, or two at all events, perhaps for a week. Would it be possible for hint to call at her house during her abience, with, say, an ostensible message for the boys? To be able to call upon her (she had been "her" for a long time_ now). even for e, moment or two, every day for a eistek: to be able to see her once in every-twenty-four hours. It seemed - too good to be true. He was so wrapped up in his blissful dreaming, that it was with a quick start he turned from the oped..Win- dow near which he-was standing, and which -straw only a foot'- froth the' ground outside, as the door.-of the drawing-room was flung violently open. Ho glanced towards it expec- tantly, and thee something-some one-dashed past him, cleared the window sill, and was gone like a flash of lightning round the corner. It was a little flying figure with silken hair streaming wildly in the Wind. It was Norah; her eyes bias-- ing with excitement, and evidently in mad fear to judge by the rapidity with which she ran. She had liter- ally flown past him! "Ohl Mr. Strange," she had gasped, and that Was all. In another instant She was out of sight. Again the door was thrown wide, and in rushed the rest of the McGil- licuddys en manse. First the colle- gian, then Constantin, then the two younger boys. They all made for the window; they all went through it; all save Constantia. She paused with one foot on the sill to cry aloud to him in a breath- less way. "Come on. Come on. She'll be round the corner, and, it she once gets to' the wood we'll never catch her. There never was- a hare like Norah." Dawn broke upon Stronge. A hare? Hare and hounds, of course! All this extraordinary excitement then, was about nothing greater than a game-a simple game-an old game, He remembered it well. The very sound of it brought back his youth- ful hours. It was absurd; but as this picture grew before his mental eye, his heart began to beat vigor- ously. Could he fall in and hunt the flying Norah? Should he-he, with his years, his size? It would be un- dignified, of course, and yet— In another instant he had sprung after her through tho low window, and was running as if for Ills very life. "Follow me; I know a short cut. We'll catch them up this way," pant- ed Constantia:' He followed wildly in Constantia's footsteps and found himself presently in the orchard, toiling at breakneck speed up a stiff little hill, which, though short was steep. Mr. Stronge went bravely up it, though panting and puffing in a rather alarming degree; but Constantia took it like a young deer. At the top of it they overtook the others, still in full cry, and rushed with them through a wooden gateway into a small wood beyond, made sweet with shadows and cool winds, and in all ways desirable as a retreat from the burning rsys of the young spring sun. But if Mr. Stronge imagined he was to to allowed to breathe here he was much mistaken. At this in- stant a wild shout arose from the leading McGillicuddy boy. He pointed frantically with his hand, and there, far away, at the very end of the long field that stretches to their left, a fragile little creature in a short white frock and with golden floating tresses can be seen, still in good wind apparently, and making for a. gap that will give her a chAnce of doubling on her pursuers. A stiff embankment bounded this field, with a heavy fall on the other side of it-a treacherous fall, as it was impossible to judge it front the wooded side. To the McGillicuddys it was evidently an old friend, as they all made for it in a body, clear- ing it like so many birds, and were scouring away down the field before you could say "Jack Robinson." Not so Mr. Stronge! Essaying to emulate them he found his wings were clipped by time, and, missing-- 111s mark, caught his foot in a mall- cioup bit of bindweed, and rolled. comfortably on Isis face and hands. Not hurt, however! He-was up again in art instant, satisfied him- self that Constantia had not been a. witness of his downfall, and was pre- sently tearing along again at a rip- ping pace. He scouted, the notion that he was considerably out of breath, and, indeed, put on such a fresh and gallant spurt that in a minute he had caught up Jimmy and actually passed him-passed a lad of twelve! "Io triumphe! Viva! Hur- rah! • Tallyho!" he shouted to him- self in his glee, and was so far car- ried on by his delicious enthusiasm that presently he passed the other boy, and came up with George and Constantia, who had circumvented the wretched little hare, and now were pursuing with hands outstretch- ed to grasp, so near was their prey. They were on the outskirts .of a rabbit warren by this time and it was easy to see that Norah's race was run. George made a plunge for ward and caught her by the arm, in doing so he got his foot into a bur- row, and over he and she went. Con- stantia tripped, -too, and so did Stronge, in his eagerness to seize the luckless quarry. The two small boys in the -rear followed suit, catching their feet in a hole likewise; and ins deed over they all went. ,They were on their feet again in an instant, the captured Norah in their midst. "Ha! ha! ha!" roared Mr. Stronge still full of the glad excitement that had held him all through this me- morable pursuit. "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Constantie in concert, George joining in. The' two younger boys fairly chuckled in their Joy; and even the poor hare, dead beat as she was, gave way to wild merriment in gasps and sighs. "It was mean!" panted she at last pointing the finger of scorn at Mr. Stronge.- The child was so thin that her finger was like a claw, but there was ,a world of meaning in it; andl when one is physically exhausted, ac- tion costs less than speech. "Horri- bly mean! To press a stranger into the hunt! Oh!" Words failed her. - -"A stranger, Miss Norah!, Am.I' always to 'be that?" demanded Stronge reproachfully. Morals grinned, and slipped her arm within his. Constantin., who had been laughing all the time, now drew her breath sharply, and laid her hand upon her heart. • "This running is a terrible thing," said she, "when One is growing old. Such a pain as I have here! It is a lessen to me; ii shall run no more. They -all gave way to mirth again at this, being still unsatisfied with laughter; and Constantia still with her hand upon her heart, looked at Stronge. "Did you ever have a pain here?" said she. - His face changed a little as a touch of • his every-day experience came back to him through the glam- our of this one sweet hour of holiday 'making. In his heart-a pain? "An eternal one," he said quickly, giving himself no time for thought. Indeed, he spoke in a moment of im- pulse-an impulse that fired his eyes and made him younger, so long as it lasted, than even the chance race had made him. Constantia must have seen some- thing in his glance, though it was very gentle, if extremely earnest, to disconcert her, because she colored deeply and let her eyes fall upon the sward at her feet.- "I say!" said Norah presently in a healthy tone, "let us all come home I'm starving." "Yes," seconded Jimmy, "let's try to squeeze a cup of tea and some hot cake out of Mulcahy." They were terrible children! Norah grew a little red, and Mr. Stronge saw it and hesitated about accompanying them. Jimmy, who had long yellow hair and blue -eyes, and who was, by a freak of Nature, a regular Norseman, though nothing but Irish blood ran in his veins, no- ticed the pause he made and instant- ly grew clamourous for his society. "Oh, yes, please do come," said Constantin When, with a little smile that covered the secret fear in her heart that Mulcahy might not have the kettle boiling, and that Minnie in all probability was off to the next bawn where her sweetheart lived. She was lost in a labyrinth of mis- erable doubts, when a word or two falling from the lips of Norah brought her back with a jerk to the present. "Aunt Bridget is gone to Dublin. Didn't you hear. Didn't Minnie tell you? Nhen the cat's away you know, the mice may play. We are going to play-we are going to give a party." She broke into gay lau thought. laughter very extravagance of the George laughed too. "Norah's molehills," he said. "Donna Dundas is coming to after- noon tea on Thursday, and that's her party." "Yes, it is Donna," said Norah, hooking herself on to Mr. Stronge's arm and smiling up at. him. "We're a little troubled, of course, because we don't quite know what to give her, or what she would like, she has lived so long abroad." "Garlic," said George. "Nonsense!" interrupted Constan- tia, who was now very red. She did not mean to invite Air. Strong° to meet Donna; and it seemed so dread- fully inhospitable to be discussing the little insignificant affair with him, when he Was not to be one of the party. Altogether, this after- noon in perspective has proved a source of much annoyance. Donna for one thing had invited herself, partly with a mischievous longing to do what Miss McGillicud- dy would certainly never have per- mitted had she been at heme, partly for other reasons. To entertain her properly was causing Constantia many troubled moments; the reseal, ces of The Cottage being limited. It seemed quite a tremendous undertaking for Constantin, this sim- ple cup of tea, so unaccustomed was sho to receive any guest within the walls Of The Cottage. She would have liked to ask a good many peo- ple, of course: Mr. Stronge, for ex-- ample, ands-and Standish Feather- stoil, but her courage failed her. And besides, if her aunt should hear of it? Here George broke into the conver- sation with a.genial air. "You'll come, won't you?" he said. Constantia grew pale. Dot she smiled bravely. "Yes, I hope you will come, Mr. Stronge," she said. "Four o'clock; and—" She stopped because she did.'t know what else it was she- could Stronge looked at her,. and read her correctly. He saw all the nor-, vows shyness that was consuming her; he saw, too, the little thorough- bred air with which she had bidden him to ner house-surely against her well! He was on the point of de- clining her invitation, when a revul- sion of feeling set in. What! was he always to be regarded by her as a stranger-as one apart? No, he would break down the'-barrier! "Thank you; I shall be very glad indeed," he said. To be Continued. LIGHTHOUSE IN A DESERT. Located On the Site of a Well in Arizona. •' There is one lighthouse at least in existence which is not marked upon mariners' charts. It stands far out in the lonely desert of Arizona, and, like the friendly beacon-towers which dot our coasts, it has been erected for life saving purposes. It marks the site of a well-the only spot where water is to be found for fifty five miles to the eastward, and at least thirty miles in any other direction. This well, a vegetable oasis in the desert, is a godsend to' the weary traveller. The water, sweet and cool, is raised from a depth of 200 feet by means -of a large bucket. The revolving drum above it is worked by an old blind mule, which knows to an inch the number of rounds it must make before the clanking buc- ket rises to tho point where it tips the water over in a trough. There is a little station at the spot, and cattle are always to be seen stand- ing around the water tanks. The old Ehreniferg road, once the great highway through Arizona, passes close by, and at this point, also, roads branch oiT leading to important mines out west. Many a wayfarer, however, unacquainted with the locality, -has actually per- ished of thirst almost within 'sight of the -well. • About two years ago a couple of minces expired by the roadside a comparativelk short distance away, and quite recently a prospeetor'S body Was found within rifle-shbt of the little station.. A few days later a German lad came staggering up to the tanks al-tartly after nightfall, in sthe last stages of exhaustion from *ant of water. He had, in fact, lain down to die, when he saw a light glimmer- ing in the distance, and managed to reach the station with a final effort. That gave an idea to Joseph Drew the keeper of the well, and, in mercy to humanity, he determined to estab- lish this unique lighthouse. He erected a tall cotton-wood pole, to the top .of which a lantern Is hoisted every night. The light can.be seen for many miles across the level plain a beacon of hope to the parched and weary traveller. se- HE WAS TOO SENSITIVE, John Jones, who is remarkable for his long ears, has had a falling out with Miss Esmeralda. Smith, towards whom he had been suspected of en- tertaining matrimonial intentions. Somebody asked him the other day .why he and Miss SmAll. were not out ',driving as much as usual, to which he replied that, he did not propose to pay trap-hire for any woman who called him a donkey. I can't - believe that Miss Smith would call any gentleman a don- key, was the, reply. Well, she didn't exactly say I was a donkey right out, but she might just as well have said so. She hint- ed that much. What did she say? We were out driving, and it looked very much like rain, and I said I thought a shower was coming on, as I felt a rain-drop on my ear; and what do you suppose she said ? I have no idea. Well, she said, that rain you felt on your ear may be two or three miles off. 4 Newgate Prison, which will short- ly be removed, was first built in the 12th century, -but was destroyed in the great fire of 1666, .and again in the Gordon riots of 1780. HOUSEHOLD." 1-0_1001-theaf0-10500.21-01ErEfafelaIDIRSSIZA WIFE'S DINNERS. Ah, well I know my wife approves me- -.That does not need to be confebsed. She does not tell me that she loves me, • But makes the dinners I like best. SOME GOOD RECIPES. Sweet Cucumber Pickles,-Pick your cucumbers before they are too ripe, or before the seeds harden, let them stand in a basket or box for a few days to cure, then in the after- noon or evening pare, cut open and scrape seeds all out. Put into a ves- sel, add enough salt to make a weak brine, and pour over them boil- ing hot water. Turn a plate over them, weight down and let them stand till morning. In the morning make your pickle, using 1 /It sugar to 1 qt good vinegar and all kinds of apices you like. Have just enough of this pickle to cover your cucum- bers, and set it on the fire to heat. Drain cucumbers from brine, and boil them in clear water until easily pierced with a fork. Pick them out of the water, put them in the pickle, simmer two or three ,hours, and they are done. This erecipe is good for any kind of fruit. . Grape Catsup.--Cook 5 qts grapes antil soft, then put through a sieve, and add to them 2 qts sugar, 1 qt. vinegar, 8 tablespoonfuls each of e, cinnamon and cloves, ,1 ta- blespoon salt, and 2 teaspoons red pepper (black will do). Boil until quite thick, bottle, and seal. Lemon Ice Cream.-Make the juice of 1 doe lemons quite thick with white sugar, stir into this syrup, a little at a time, 3 qta rich cream. and freeze. Orange ice cream is made in the same manner, using less sugar. Plain Ice Cream-For the best ice cream, only fresh sweet cream must be used. However, many prefer a mixture of cream and milk. A good formula for plain ice .cream is as fol- lows: 't'o 3 pts rich cream take 1 qt new milk, 1 pt powdered sugar, the whites of two eggs beaten to a stiff froth, and flavoring to taste. Let stand in the freezer until thor- oughly chilled and then freeze. Sherbet.-Steep 1 ripe pineapple in 2 qts water for two hours, strain, and add the juice of four lemons and 2 cups sugar. Whip the whites of 5 eggs until stiff and dry, add to them 8 tablespoons sugar, place all together in s freezer and freeze. The addition of 1 pt rich cream is quite an improvement, though not at all necessary. Pineapple Ice Cream-Slice 2 large ripe pineapples, cover with sugar, and let stand three hours. Cut or chop up the pineapple in the syrup thus formed and strain through a hair sieve. Beat the mixture gradu- ally, into 8 pts rich cream, then freeze as quickly as possible. When half frozen, stir in 1 pt whipped cream and some bits of pineapple. Tomato Preserve-To every lib tomatoes use 1 cup water and # lb sugar. Cook the thin yellow rind and pulp and 1 oz crushed ginger in every 2 cups water for half an hour,' and then strain. Add the tomatoes and sugar, and conk until scalded through. but not broken. Skim the tomatoes out, and put into jars. Boil the syrup until thick, and fill jars to overflowing. Seal while hot. Canned Apples.-Some of the sur- plus apples may be canned as fol- lows: Make a syrup, taking 1 lb su- gar and 1 pt water. Pare and quar- ter 1 lb apples, dropping them into cold water to keep them white, then drain the apples, drop into the boil- ing syrup, and cook quickly until the pieces may be pierced with a straw. Do not stir,. but take the syrup in a spoon and baste the ap- ples carefully without breaking them. Put in cans boiling hot, and fasten Immediately. A rose. geranium leaf boiled with the syrup makes a nice addition. SUGGESTIONS. They say a woman-just married, an experienced.. one wouldn't have prOpounded such a silly question- asked her husband who he supposed invented angel cake. He expressed the opinion. that it was a "fallen an- gel," which sums up the average man opinions of this species of cake . To remove the astringency of wild plums scald them in water to which a pinch of saleratus has been added. Let stand till cold, then pour the water off. It is announced in an exchange that a very fair substitute for maple syrup can be made by melting the Paned white sugar-granulated is probably meant-with a small quan- tity of the best brown sugar. The proportions vary with the kind of brown sugar used, but usually it re- quires from three to. four times as much of the granulated sugar as of the brown sugar. If "just right" it is said to be difficult to detect the difference. In fact, there seems to be so many things that if "just right" are "just sts good" as the genuine that we are flitting to be a nation of shams: eating we know not what. Don't, don't, don't turn kerosene into the stove in .order to light a fire. Weep an oyster can full of the kerosene and when you want quick kindlings, dip a corncob or two in it. An exchange says: To- tighten the rubber on a wringer, retnove the rub- ber and wrap the bar with fine twine. Then slip on the rublaer, which will take some time, but when on once it will be as tight as ever, and save paying for a new wringer. Smearing the new with white lead very thickly will answer the same purpose, but it must be thoroughly dry before using the wringer again. THE 13ED11. A correspondent makes' a strong plea for simplicity in bedrooms. "Our sleeping rooms," he says' "ought really to be as clean, plain and bare as the deck of a man-of- war when cleared for action A perfectly made and furnished stooping room would be neither poverty- stricken in fact or in appearance, but it would be extremely simple," In addition, we 11 elf told that every well planned dwelling should have at least one bedroom where a sick mem- ber of the family, whether Jim had grippe, consumption or smallpox, could have the same safeguards he would have in the best hospital, and at the name time leave the rest of the family as secure from contagion as if he were out of the house. Such a room should be in a corner with windows on two sides, and one side the south. There should be a toilet room, not necessarily a bath, for a sick person rarely takes tub baths. There should. be a portable wardrobe and a commode; glass en- closed shelves for medicine. It should have two doors, one into the hall' and the other into the toilet room, and these doors should be double; that is, ono on each side of the partition. This excludes sound and ensures quiet. The floor ehould be of hard w oo', varnished, the walls plastered and painted and made to bear washing with hot water and soap. No Wall paper, no pictures, no mouldings, no eaneling, the woodwork of the plain- est and simplest. Double windows are wanted for winter and outside blinds for summer, and an open grate or fireplace for heat and ventilation. USEFUL ACCESSORIES. The wise woman is she who -knows how to produce the greatest possible results with the least expenditure of strength. 'this is a very important knowledge. We wish to tell you about a little help which is a great time-saver. It is a medium-sized,pa- per pad with a lead pencil attached. hung over the kitchen table-or near by. It will be found ono of the greatest conveniences. If you jot down articles needed upon this pad they aro not apt t0 be forgotten. And it will save you many a trip upstairs and down in the cellar, etc., and the time earned, or minute sav- ed, is time earned for rest or self- improvement. As a general rule every other room in the home is better tarnished with conveniences than is the one in which the busy wife spends so great a por- tion of her time, namely, tile kitchen. Have a chair, my sister woman, to sit in near your table when you wash dishes and knead your bread and peel potatoes, etc. It will save your back and feet more than you dream of. Keep plenty of nice tea towels; it's an economy. And for health and hy- giene's sake have plenty of dish cloths. Cheesecicith makes nice ones. And I wash mine out in a warm suds of pearline every day; it cuts the grease and cleans so quickly. It is beet to keep several sets of tea towels, two for glassware, two for china, and three or more for earthen- ware. Your dishes will look so much nicer and take on a high polish. Have stove holders about the stove. Such little accessories help to keep you in better health and give you more time. 4 CLOUDLAND COURTSHIPS. -4 WHERE BABOONS ABE WILY. A species of baboon inhabiting the Cape Colony has become a pest to the farmers by destroying their Iambs. ,The baboons haunt a clump of caeteS scattered through the fields, and exhibit much cunning in keeping out of the reach' of their human enemies. It is asserted the!. they have taken note of the fact that women do not carry firearms, and therefore need not be feared. But when a man appears the ba- boons instantly take to their heels. On this account the farmers have lately devised the plan of dressing in women's apparel when they set out to shoot baboons. BUT WORTH 1T. Mr. Shortcashf shall feel greatly honored if you will accompany iffit to the theatre this evening. bliss Beauty-With pleasure. What is Its bill for to-night.? Shortta,.11-About-ten-dol- lars. Proposed and Accepted on a Trip to the Sky. Although we aro told that "mar- , riages are made in Heaven," it is not often the case that a' courtship is carried on in the clouds: Such a wooing, however, took place some years ago, the. hero of the episode being a Belgian aeronaut who was accustomed to take his sweetheart with him whilst enjoying balloon' trips. In the intervals of attending to the apparatus. ho found time for plenty of billing and cooing, and it is to be hoped that the courtship conducted in cloudlaod has .been fol- lowed by a happy married existence upon terra firma, Another balloonisit actually is 'pro- posed to the girl of his heart whilst escorting the lady on a trip to the sky, 'Unceinventional . as the sur- roundings certainly were, the inaiden saw no reason to object to the scene of the proposal, and she • ac- cordingly accepted her aeronaut ad- mirer without a moment's hesita- tion. Probably this is the first pro- posal of marriage that has been made at a height of 6,000 feet above the earth. Less sensational, but still "high" enough in all conscience, was the scene of a courtship which took place some few years ago at the summit of the mountain known as "Grande Saleve," near Geneva. At an hotel situated on the mountain- top a young English tourist met a charming American girl, and the two soon conceived for each other a strong affection. The ..ordinary forms of courtship were gone through, and marriage followed in due course. Seeing that the moons tain in question is several thous- ands of feet in, height the romance in certainly entitled to find a place to , the brief-list - of cloudland court- ships.