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HomeMy WebLinkAboutLucknow Sentinel, 1905-09-14, Page 3steady in his habits is a man who makes costly mistakes, he said. In this way the railway companies are doing more effec­ tive temperance work than some of our temperance societies or churches. When you ask your friends to tea be sure that you have GOOD TEA. A cup of good tea is delightful ' TEA. It’s the choice of the careful, that’s why YOU should use it. LOVE AND A TITLE “I didn’t expect this pleasure, Lady Ferndale 1 ” “What pleasure?” asks Jeanne, inno­ cently. “Of—of seeing you,” he says. “ I had no idea that Mr. Vane was—in fact, it’s all a mystery to me! How can he be Lord Ferndale—has anybody died? Has he come into the title? I didn’t know he was connected with the Femdales, even!” Jeanne hangs her head and turns color. In his eagerness, Clarence has bent down to hear the explanation, and it is at this moment that Vane looks around the epergne and sees them. “He—he always was the Marquis of Femdale,” says Jeanne. “Good heavens!” exclaims Clarence, looking back, mentally, “ he was! And we all patted him on the back and pat- • ■ ronized him! And that old fellow, Lambton, came the grand ? Well, if a fellow goes in for that sort of thing, he must take the consequences—that is, I mean, of course, who was to know?” Jeanne says nothing, but her long lashes droop over her eyes. “Who was to know—except, of course, yourself Lady Femdale. By kept it well!” Then he stops short, as Jove, you a sudden thought takes possession of him, body and soul, and makes his heart beat. She knew it, and that was the reason why she refused him. It is a welcome, a delicious thought! If tue great Marquis of Ferndale had not been his rival, he might have won her. After all, she may have cared for him— Clarence! Such things have been. It makes his heart beat madly drains a glass of chablis, sends his en­ tree—for which he has been waiting ten minutes—away untouched, and is only brought to coinposure by meeting V ane’s dark eyes fixed on him. “Lord Ferndale must be a wonderfully clever fellow!” he says, with sudden moodiness. “Yes,” says Jeanne, and at the cold­ ness of the assent Clarence’s face clears again. He glances around at her with greater courage; yes, she is as beautiful, she is more beautiful than ever; and, ■what is more surprising, she is just as girlish; just, in fact, the Jeanne who set his heart beating nine months ago, and whose refusal of his love has only in­ creased it tenfold. And Jeanne ? Well, Jeanne had grown more chari­ table and less critical. Clarence has improved in appearance, in manners, in the quantity and quality of his brains, and she is not sorry to see him. You cannot feel unamiable with a good-looking young fellow who waits on you with hand and eye, discusses your taste in the matter of the menu as anx- iously as if life and death depended on •it,, nearly breaks his neck in getting a flower from the epergne, because you happen to say that it has a pretty bud, and evidently is doing, in all and every • possible way, his best to be agreeable. Jeanne has been living a life of soli­ tude for the last three months, with new friends, and a husband only in name ; here is an old friend, and I say it is not to be wondered at that she should un­ bend and be agreeable. But is there no other reason than that of natural amiability for the gentle smile with which she enraptures poor Clarence? I wonder why she looks as­ kance at the fair face opposite, which is so close to Vane’s handsome head that no one can hear what the soft, red lips are saying. And what are they saying? Do you think my Lady Lucelle is making love to Vane? Nothing of the sort; she is not so foolishly inexperienced as to commit such a blunder. She knows Vane bet­ ter, alas, than Jeanne does. - She does better than make love to him —she amuses him. Not a word of his marriage, not a word of that bitter, cruel, scornful letter, not a word con­ cerning Jeanne or herself does those soft, red, mobile lips utter. No; at the slightest word on any of these subjects, Vane, she knows, would turn to stone or become like a hedge­ hog, all points. She amuses him, and when Lady Lucelle lavs herself out to amuse, no man, scarcely a woman, can resist lier. At first he is—well, sulky! meets her little, witty, pointed remarks with dry and caustic monosyllables; but she is not daunted. From subject she flits easily, gracefully, adorning with her i bright, delicate wit all she touches, un­ til at last Vane’s lips curve, and a slight smile lights up his grave face. “You still retain your wonderful spir­ its, Lady Lucelle,” he says, as if it were wrong for him. . Lady Lucelle shrugs her shoulders. They are so white and soft, and exquis- itelv molded as one of Boucher s Ven­ uses. “ Thanks,” she “ It is because he said, I have buried myself in desert solitudes “How I envy you!” she says—and she sighs lightly. “I once asked Lord Fred­ erick, the great wit, whom he should consider the happy man. What do you think he said? The man who at five- and-thirty has lost his memory and sav­ ed his digestion.” “At any rate, my digestion is all right,” says Vane, laughing. “And having lost your memory you are the happy man,” she says. And she looked up at him with a sweep of the dark lids that give depth meaning to the dark blue eyes. Vane seeks safety in silence. If to be envied is to be happy, Vane ought to be in the highest state of felicity, for men are envying him the lovely girl who sits opposite him with the Ferndale dia­ monds in her hair. Slowly but surely the elaborately planned dinner works through its courses fantastic fabrics of sweetstuffs take the place of more solid food; pomegranates and melons lie demurely on fig leaves from Alexandria, two scent fountains throw up miniature jets of perfumed water, conversation grows general, and the countess rises as Sparks, the butler, comes toward Charlie bearing a bottle of yellow seal. Jeanne gathers up her cremel-w’orked robe. Clarence is attention to the last; gives her hbr fan, and, with a humble look, holds out the flower he has rav­ ished from the epergne. “Won’t you take this?” he says. Jeanne takes it with a smile, Clarence goes back to the table drains a goodly glass of the yellow seal, with a heart fluttering like—like a man in love. While dinner has been in progress, the servants have thrown wide the doors of the conservatory adjoining the great drawing-room, and the mimic forest of ferns and flowers is lit up with daint­ ily shaped grotesque lanterns. Jeanne, Jeanne like, makes straight for this, and seats herself in a low chair beside a marble faun, that leers down at her as he throws a spray of water from his scooped hands. This meting with Lady Lucelle and Lord Lane is so unexpected that she scarcely yet realizes it. Lady Lucelle’s prophecy had come true; they had met again, and with every appearance of good will. With an inward mortification, Jeanne reflected upon the consummate pres­ ence of mind with which the fashionable beauty had set aside the fact of their having seen each other previously, orthe exquisite well bred air of composed plea­ sure with which she had smiled; and, as Jeanne reflected, she sighed. Three months ago she expressed a wish to enter the great world. How could she have guessed that is was so false and treacherous? Scarcely have these thoughts flitted through her mind than a soft voice says in her ear: “Well, Lady iJeanne,” and looking up, Jeanne sees the blue eyes bent on her with smiling audacity, Jeanne looks up with a sudden flash of color, but there is nothing more than the usually delicate tint on Lady Lucelle’s fair skin, not a trace of confusion or em­ barrassment. Rather one would say an air of delicate enjoyment, as if the situ­ ation amused her. She even laughs softly as she watches Jeanne’s expressionable face. “Lady Ferndale,” drawing a chair close to Jeanne’s, and leaning forward with the most graceful ease—just as she did, Jeanne remembers, on that afternoon in the little drawing room at the Gate House, “I wouldn’t, give a penny for your thoughts, for I know them already.’ Jeanne raises her eyebrows but does not speak. “Yes,” says Lady Lucelle, fanning her­ self. slowly, and smiling into Jeanne’s steadfast eyes, “you’ve been thinking ever since we were -introduced,” and she laughs softly—“what a bold, wicked crea­ ture I am.” “Wicked?” says Jeanne, as if she. wouldn’t deny the bold. Lady Lucelle looks at her with more softness in her sharp eyes than her ad­ mirers would deem her capable of. “Oh,” she thinks, “then he hasn’t told her about the letter?” “Dreadfully bold and awfully deceit­ ful; now, confess.’” Jeanne smiled rather coldly. “Confess, you meant to cut me when­ ever you saw me—that you would have done it to-day if you could. My dear, I saw it in your fa.ee when you heard my voice. Jeanne—may I call you Jeanne —don’t say no, or look cold. We two can’t possibly quarrel. we’re too great a contrast. Fair women and dark never do quarrel. Let us be friends.” Jeanne smiles. ”Do you think my friendship so desir­ able, then. Lady Lucelle?” “Desirable! I couldn’t get on without it!” says Lady Lucele, with the most frank and charming smile. “My dear i Jeanne, we shall meet nine months out of every twelve; we move in the same set, know the same people. I detest—I | cannot endure- situations in which the J awkWard.gjid embarrassing predominate. I never had a quarrel or a coolness in my life.” ‘Never?” says Jeanne. ‘Never!” says Lady Lucelle. “I see what you mean, my dear Jeanne, but you are wrong. One may get weary of one’s best friends, but quarrel with them! Life is too short for anything so foolish. Why. my dear, there’s scarcely a woman and and and i enough to humor them. And some of them have better cause than you. You’ve got your plumcake, you know, where some of them have lost theirs—through me, or so they think. Come, what harm have I done you?” “I don’t know,” says Jeanne, and in­ deed, she does not. “There!” exclaimed Lady Lucelle. with soft triumph. “I thought so! Why, if you consider it, it is I who ought to dislike you, but I don’t; honestly. I would if I could, but I can’t. I don’t think anyone could. Oh, I am not flat­ tering. You are too clever to be won by such poor chaff as that, especially when it comes from a woman’s hand. And, besides, you are too happy to re­ member old scores. Lady Jeanne, hon­ estly, I liked you that first time—which we will never speak of any more—that first time I saw you; I wa3 a little jeal­ ous, perhaps, for you were most exas- peratingly pretty in that white dress; but I liked you, and I do want you to like me. Let us swear a friendship, as the man says in the play.” Jeanne smiles. What can she sav— what would anyone say in answer to the appeal, made in the sweetest and most liquid of tones, and with a frankness which seems truth itself? Lady Lucelle takes the smile as an assent. “That’s all right,” she says, with ja little fluttering sigh of satisfaction, “and I am quite happy. Candidly, my dear,) I couldn’t have afforded to quarrel with so great a person as the Marchioness of Ferndale! Why, a cut direct from you would have socially ruined me! See now how wholy I trust you! Is thefe -anyone of them who would he so honest? They all profess to iove you, but they don’t. They all envy you, and most of them hate you. There isn’t one of them.” and she looked toward the room full of women with a placid smile, “but would have gone on their knees to get what you got without the asking. My dear Jeanne, it must be nice to be a marchion­ ess, only to feel that every unmarried —and most of the married—women one meets would be glad to stab one in the back if stabbing were the fashion.” Jeanne listens with an uneasy smile. From any other lips such plain truths would sound coarse and startling, but spoken in Lady Lucelle’s soft, lingering tones, they do not strike home with less poignancy. ‘Not one!” she continues. “Look over your fan at that tall girl in the blue j satin. She is one of the Peerland girls— there are five of them, and unmarried. This is Augusta. Poor Augusta! She tracked Lord Ferndale for two seasons, from London to Paris, from Paris to Scotland, up hill down dale. She must love you! so must her mother, the old lady in the turban, with the mustache. Augusta is now stalking poor Nugent. Gets up in the morning and holds his gun, which she can’t bear the sight of, and pats his horse, of which she is mor­ ally afraid. You will see when he comes in how she will draw up the blue satin from that chair beside her and smile at him. Poor Augusta!” Jeanne cannot help smiling in spite of herself. “Poor Lord Nugent!” she says. “Just so,” assents Lady Lucelle, with a little shrug of the shoulders. “But he is used -to it ,and can take care of himself —some of them can’t, and fall easy vic­ tims. Tea!” she breaks off, as a foot­ man approaches. “Thanks. What a farce it is! This is a remnant of the old, pat­ riarchal days, when women were kept in servitude. I wonder when the men will learn horn much we hate the society of each other, and let us share the port and rare wines and best stories which they reserve till we’ve left the dining-room! My dear, there is nothing so deceitful as a man Did you ever notice -how grave and sedate they come in, just as if they had been learning the shorter catechism, instead of chuckling over doubtful bon- mots and scandal. All the life goes out of them as they enter the drawing-room, where we sit like tame cats in a cage, lapping our tea or lounging at the piano| By the way, does Lord Ferndale sing now ?” The question is not an abrupt one—| for Lady Lucelle never asked an abrupt question in her life—but it is so unex-j pec ted that Jeanne winces. Vane has not sung since the wedding day. “I think not,” she says, trying to speak carelesssy. “Really!” says Lady Lucelle, glancing? through her half-closed eyelids at Je-an-> ne’s averted face. ‘That strikes me as? a dreadful waste of fine ma-| terial. I have often thought it! was a great shame a marquis should? have such a voice and such a talent for. painting; it is rather unfair to men who have neither title nor thing else. I’m afraid he doesn’t much, does he?” I lightly. not 5 for the last twelve months? We poor wo­ men have only -oiir books and our wits, K y^aN-£prd Ferndale', ahdl they stand us m pdo¥ ‘Sfe^d* sometimes. What itf that' galantine? Do you remember it? You used to be an epuicure once. Do you re­ member 'flying into a passion at .the I hotel in jEngadinej because the cauli- 1 flowers weren”t cooked.” t Vane smiles. ( “Can’t say T-do,” he says, .(though he j does, and remembers many other things | , thatoccurred in the Engadine besides in this room—excepting someof ^the very • i ' the badly cooked vegetables); “my mem- old ones—that doesn’t dislike me, and «y. ia ^bad,” . would quarrel with me, if I, were silly other! any- paint! Jeanne smiles. As a fact, Vane has] done little else but paint; but she is; spared a reply for the countess, who has made several attempts to get to her, reaches her at last, and Lady Lucelle is induced to go to the piar.o. “Oh, yes, I’ll sing if you want me,”’ she says; “that is, until Lord Ferndale j comes into the room. He once told me that 1 sang without any heart, and I avowed never to open my lips in his hearing again.” A small circle encloses Jeanne; plans, are being made for the morrow. There is some talk of meeting the shooting a party at luncheon; would Lady Fern- rj dale like that ,and how would Lady Ferndale like to go? Would she like to f' go in the saddle, or drive. 'j One and all consult her choice on ev­ ery point, each hanging 6n her decision { as if she were an empress. Jeanne smil- || ingly refers it to the majority—anything will please her and the matter is still under discussion when the gentlemen, looking as Lady Lucelle prognosticated, very grave and sedate, come clustering in. Charlie and Clarence made straight for the little group, others spread about in search of comfortable seats; Vane, af­ ter glancing in the direction of the con­ servatory, goes across to an old friend, and takes his, cup of tea standing by his chair. “Luncheon is the word,” says Charlie. “Right, Go as you like. Just so. I’ll ask Vane to run through the stables and find a horse for you. if he can’t we can send for your own.” Clarence is standing near. “Mustapha used to carry a lady, Chal- lie,” he says, with suppressed eagerness, “I’ll answer for her quietness. Will you try her, Lady Ferndale? My sister used to ride her. You will be quite safe at anything. Jeanne looks up. ‘I shall deprive you,” she says. “He can ride anything,” says Charlie. “Take him at his word, Lady Jeanne.” And so it is arranged, by tacit con­ sent that Jeanne is to ride Clarence’s owr horse. Meanwhile Lady Lucelle finishes her K • song, notwithstanding Vane’s presence. If it be true that she sings without heart, she sings with plenty of art. Like everything else she does, she plays and sings artistically, and with that charm which grace along can yield. • Vane looks up from his cup to give the general murmur ef thanks and meets her eyes fixed on hiz*. “Do you remember that song, says. Vane tries to look as if he did not. “Will you come and sing for us?” He smiles and shakes his head. “You refuse?” says Lady Lucelle. “I must go and ask Lady Ferndale to in­ tercede, then,” and she looks around. But Jeanne is not in the same place. -At the end of the conservatory, leading to the terrace, there is the glimmer of an embroidered dress, and a tall figure remarkably like Clarence’s. “Rather than you should think that trouble necessary,” says Vane, and he comes to the piano as he speaks, but reluctantly. “What will you sing,” asks Lady Lu­ celle, with downcast eyes, and a thrill of triumph in her heart. He has not sung for three months and he is singing for her. “Anything there is,” says Vane, not conceitedly, but indifferently. She turns over the music, and comes upon the Neapolitan song which Jeanne had heard at the Gate House some months ago. “Shall I play for you? I remember ev­ ery note,” she adds, in a low voice, and her fingers touch the keys pensively for a moment. A murmur runs around the room. The fame of Vane’s voice is widespread. Men stick their hands in their pockets, and throw back their heads as is their wont when they want to listen; women cease chattering, and glide nearer the piano. There is a profound silence, broken only by the distant murmur of the two per­ sons at the end of the conservatory, who were not listening—Jeanne and Clarence. (To be continued.) SAFETY FOR LITTLE ONES. Every mother who has tried Baby’s Own Tablets becomes enthusiastic about them—tells every other mother how how over baby’s health to use these Tab­ lets. I' son, Ont., says: constipation and teething troubles and I gave him Baby’s Own Tablets, which gave speedy relief. I consider the tab­ lets an excellent medicine for children.” These tablets cure constipation, teething troubles, diarrhoea, simple fevers, de­ stroy worms, break up colds and pro­ mote natural, healthy sleep. And you have a guarantee that there is not a particle of opiate or poisonous soothing stuff in them. Sold by all medicine deal­ ers or sent by mail at 25 cents a box by writing The Dr. Williams’ Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. Send for our little book on the care of infants and young children—free to all mothers. ---------------- -------------------------- CURRENT GUARDS THE GOLD. safe and how effective they are, much it relieves the anxiety Mrs. 8. W. Crawford, Thomp- . : “My oaby was ill with ’ Electric Appliances on Safes in New Federal Building. Chicago’s new Federal Building is re­ markable for the attention paid to the minutest details in its construction. Its heating and ventilating system is one of the most complete in the country and electric equipment of the sub-treasury vaults is particularly interesting. There are three of these vaults, one above the other, and reaching from the basement to the second floor. One of these is for gold, one for silver and one for surplus, which cannot be stored in the other two. Each is fitted with every safety appliance known to the art. On each is a burglar alarm, and the doors are fitted with four time locks, besides a combination lock. Within the main door, says the Western Electrician, is a grating having two loeks, the keys of which are carried by two separate em­ ployees, one man never being allowed to enter the vaults alone. Outside of the mam door of each vault is a solid con­ crete and steel platform which is raised and lowered by an electric motor. The door of any vault cannot be opened or closed when this platform is in its nor­ mal position. To open the door the platform must first be lowered a dis­ tance of four feet, when the door may be swung back. The platform is then raised again, fitting so nicely against the sill and around the bottom of the door that its presence is scarcely notice­ able. To close the vault door the plat­ form must again be lowered. The motor ’controller which accomplishes this is located a short distance from the vault door, but it is such an innocent looking affair that its purpose would not be (guessed by one not familiar with the arrangement, the motor and gearing be- png concealed from view. The walls of the vaults are of solid (concrete, two to four feet in thickness, ’intersected in every direction by geams of steel. Current Comment While Russia is down waiting to be de­ clared out, Japan is hardly winded, and shows an astonishing power of endurance and reserve force for a country of such area and population. This wonderful re­ sourcefulness and elasticity is largely a growth of recent years, and testifies to the progress made by the little island people in the ways of modern civilization. A statistician has devoted some care to a comparison between the Japan of to­ day and the United States at the close of the Civil War, and offers these figures for consideration: United States Japan, about 1860. 1904. Population ... 20,000,000 46,000,000 Debt after war$2,680,647,869 $750,000,000 Imports......... 353,616.119 160,000,000 Exports .... 333,576.057 145,000,000 Bank capital . *421,880,095 263,000,000 Bank deposits. *406,507,066 356,000,000 Public revenue 56,064,608 115,000,000 *Not including savings banks. Commenting on this statement the New York Journal of Commerce says: “The United States in 1865 not only had a debt nearly four times that of Japan at the present, time, but had only half the population to sustain it. The net burden of the individual Japanese to­ day, therefore, on account of the public debt is only about one-eighth the burden which fell upon the citizen of the North at the close of the war. Ability to carry this burden must be gauged, so far as public statistics afford a guide, by the volume of foreign trade and banking op­ erations. These show that while the foreign trade of Japan is at. present only about half what that of the United States was in 1860, her banking capital and bank deposits do not fall far be­ hind.” Japan’s wise course in protecting her gold reserve by floating foreign loans and creating funds in London and New York is in striking contrast, with that of the United States in suspending specie payments, paper money going down to 40 cents on the dollar almost at one rush. The authority already quoted says: Not only in regard to maintaining gold payments, but in prompt resort to taxa­ tion, Japanese statesmen have shown themselves more enlightened than those of America forty-five years ago. The fig­ ures presented above, showing an annual public revenue in Japan equal to twice that of the United States in 1860, shows how resolutely and fearlessly the policy has been pursued of raising war funds by taxation instead of relying exclusively upon loans. Such a policy is worth many times the funds which it actually brings to the Treasury, because of the proof it affords of the energy and good faith of the Government. * * * The returns of commerce, banking operations and clearings in Japan indicate that industry has been very little deranged by the war, and that the country is more than able for many months to come to maintain in the field of finance the wonderful pres­ tige which she has won upon the field of battle and upon the sea. Japan has a large reserve for her loans ■ready for use, if necessary, to prolong the war. She has a patriotic and united people ready to pay and to fight for their country. And a nation that acts as one man is a nation not easily beaten. Japan is not winded yet. i Mr. Bryce, in opening the Manor Park Free Library, which is part of Mr. Car­ negie’s gift to East Ham, England, said: : There was no better way of providing for pleasure in this life than by cultivat­ ing the taste and habit of reading books. The.......................................................taste and habit of reading books was one of the purest pleasures—it was one of the most enduring pleasures, it was a pleasure which lasted through life, a pleasure which none of the vicis­ situdes of life could destroy and a plea*- <' ure which afforded a solace and a refuge among those vexations and regrets which life brought to them all. The young man who spends his win­ ter evenings kicking his heels at street corners or playing pool or in some other useless way, would find it much to his advantage were he to cultivate a taste for such pleasures as are to be derived from reading books. A man can have no better companion than a good book. i That Sir William Wallace still lives in the hearts of the Scottish people is attested by the fact that fully 1,500 peo­ ple asembled at Robroyston, near Glas­ gow, on Saturday, the 5th instant, to commemorate his betrayal, which occur­ red exactly six centuries ago. The gath- 1 ering was held under the auspices of the Scottish Patriotic Association, and stir­ ring speeches were delivered. Resolutions were adopted expressing satisfaction at the action taken by the Convention of Royal Burghs in pressing upon the atten­ tion of the educational authorities the necessity of having Scottish history taught adequately in the schools, and de­ ploring the apathy of most Scottish members of Parliament in regard to the national rights and honor of Scotland. Wireless telegraphy has already be­ come a commercial enterprise. Accord­ ing to a Parliamentary report reprinted^ by the Telegraph Age, 111 messages were received by the British Post Office in January, February and March of this year for transmission by wireless tele­ graphy to ships at sea. In the same months the post office received from ships 1,655 messages. The total receipts from this branch of the empire’s tele­ graph business were £74. Labouchere says we eat too much; fasting, he believes to be the remedy for most human ills. But we are not all Tanners or Sacchos, and starvation and heavy manual labor do not agree well. Good crops in the Northwest and good crops in Ontario. The farmer is in i luck. the oldest —South African I 4 A Great African Republic Coming?. Already the colored man is a formid­ able force in the game of party politics’ in one—and colony. The native vote in this colony*! has become so large, and the natives' are pressing their numeral advantage so strongly, that the whites have already raised the question of a suffrage limi­ tation to save themselves frqm political annihilation. But it is clear enough that this expedient will not save them. The population of Cape Colony, including the territories is, in round numbers, 1,200,- 000, and the white population 377,000. Day by day the power of the native grows. The gate of the political arena stands wide open to him, and he is nob slow to enter. The negroes everywhere are a remarkably fecund race, and they, are increasing relatively, much faster i than the whites. Africa is first of all’ the black man’s country, and all that climatic conditions and the congenial environment of a native habitat can ■ do to help him in his struggle upward! are there present. To all other influences now tending to the development of the negro to a high-i er social and political rank must be add- ’ ed the force of education. For in South . Africa, as in this country, the negroes “take” to education with remarkable readiness and success. According to the Cape government educational report published three months ago, the actual number of children receiving edu­ cation in the public schools of the col­ ony at the end of last year was 91,313 colored and 60,849 white. The natives are awakening from the slumber of cen­ turies and there is no more remarkable feature of this awakening than their al- , most insatiable thirst for knowledge. Cape Colony and the territories are lit­ erally covered with native schools, the territories alone having several hundreds. These schools are manned very largely by native teachers who have passed one or other of the Cape University qus4ify- ing examinations, and who display no lack of intelligence in their work. All this means, in brief, and in plaia language, that South Africa is surely destined at not distant day to come un­ der native rule, to be governed by ne­ groes for negroes. Attempts at disen­ franchisement and limitations of the suf­ frage will only hasten the day of negro supremacy.-----Norman Notwood, in Les­ lie’s, Weekly. According to computations made by Mr. Arthur Harris in an inquiry into national finances the annual expendi­ ture of the principal powers is, in round numbers, as follows: Russia.................... United Kingdom .. France........... .. . United —.. German Empire Austria-Hungary Italy................ The public debts of the principal na­ tions are given as follows: France ............. Russia............. Great Britain .. Austria-Hungary Italy.................. Spain................... Argentina .. .. Portugal............ Turkey ............ German Empire The proportion which the public debt bears to the estimated national capital, a knowledge of which is necessary to an understanding of what the figures indi­ cate, is said to be: Spain and Portugal .. Russia....................... Austria-Hungary .. France '.......... Holland and Belgium German Empire .. . United States........... United Kingdom .... Norway and Sweden States .. £291,000,000 179,750,000 142,609,000 129,500,000 115,132,000 111,203,000 69,861,000 A tfiat fuse is pl t Signs of Evil Omen. (New York Express.) If a dish towel falls from the hand to the floor you are sure to have company at dinner that night. This applies to the cook, the mistress of the house and the hubby who helps his wife wash the dishes. When you wihd the cuckoo clock be sure to pull the chain to the right first. Don’t wind your watch at bed­ time, as 999 men in 1.000 have a habit of doing; wind it when you rise in the morning and start out fresh with it. When keys rust in your pocket it is a sign of low vitality, or salt atmos­ phere or perspiration. Don’t turn up your toes; it is a sign you are dead. The Ad. and the Collector. j Some time ago a man who contem­ plates writing a comprehensive History of Advertisements began to collect speci­ mens from all parts of the world. He originally intended to make a complete Collection, but he has abandoned, the idea for the simple reason that, unlike pos­ tage stamps, the number of advertise­ ments is infinite and their variety past classification. He expresses surprise at the magnitude and cosmopolitan charac­ ter of advertising. But why should he be surprised? It is a big world; human desires are immeasurable, and the ad­ vertisement is the most useful medium for making known and therefore satisfy­ ing these desires. £1,172,360,000 656,574,000 638,919,000 590,944,000 510,501,000 387,000,000 183,575,000 177,192,000 170,000,090 143,799,000 29 per cent. 27 per cent. 17 per cent. 12.8 p. cent. 6 per cent. 6 per cent. 6 per cent, p. cent. 2 per cent. The great railway companies are among the greatest factors that tend to temperance on this continent. At a ban­ quet in Buffalo the other evening Mr. C. J. Phillips, Superintendent of the Buffalo division of the Lackawanna, said the time was when a railroad company paid little attention to the lives of its employ­ ees, especially when (they were off duty. “But time and experience,” he said, “has demonstrated the necessity of corpora­ tions talcing cognizance of employees, not only when they are on duty, but off duty as well. The habits of a man when he is off duty determine largely his effi­ ciency when he is on duty. The engineer, the flagman, the telegraph operator, the dispatcher, who takes his regular rest, never drinks or eats to excess, comes on duty with a clear brain, seldom ever makes a mistake in the discharge of his duty.” The man who is irregular er un- Recklessness on Railroads. (Indianapolis News.) train conics plungi-jg along and find* the draw is open; “the air brake.? re- to work,” and a slaughter follows. It x ain that culpability here is deep. It Is simply criminal recklessness that will per- ' mit a railroad to be so run that it is pos­ sible under any circumstances for a train to approach a drawbridge without coming first to a full stop—and this not merely in the volition of the engineman In the Strict­ ness of company orders, but as a matter of mechanical impossibility. It is criminalj recklessness for any road to have atraek running over a drawbridge that dees not have with it an automatic device that.'wou prevent the train from running farther un it first had stopped in full view