Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutLucknow Sentinel, 1905-09-21, Page 7"*'W iff 1 r*Yn Do Not Confound Ceylon Tea with those of any other brand, as imitations abound. Sold only in Sealed Lead Packets. 40, 50, 60c per lb. By all Grocers. Highest Award St. Louis, 1904. Black, Mixed or Green Tea. “What—the hook?” she asks, inno­ cently. “No, your arm,” explains Hal. he adds, “that’t out of they never do.” “That’s all right,” she I’ll go for my book; I grass.” Hal runs back, and, search, finds the volume; it is Tenny­ son’s poems in Italian. “Here it is,” he says, handing it to her; “is there anything else?” “No, thank you,” she says, “and now I will go and not disturb your fishing any longer.” “I shan’t fish any more,” says Hal, decidedly. “I’ve got quite enough.” “Yes,” she says; “and the sun is sink­ ing, too. Are you going to Forbach?” “Yes,” says Hal, longing to ask where she is going, but not daring to. “Yes, I’m staying at Forbach.” “Ah, yes, you are traveling—you are a tourist?” she says, curiously. “For goodness sake don’t call that!” says Hal, laughing. “But,” the question— says, “and now left it on the after a little tionality, is united in its vigorous at­ tacks on the viands. Bel has also procured a bottle of Bass -—which, by the way, goes down on the bill as “Pa Laie, two shillings and six pence”! A waiter brings him some j soup, exchanges it for some apparently i raw salmon soused in vinegar, which Hal imediatelv and emphatically declines,and | ' is about to bring him the next dish,"when he turns aside to usher in a new and. a | late arrival. He is a short, thin individ­ ual, whose face is so covered with a net­ work of wrinkles that he may be ninety, but whose upright bearing and light step would lead one as readily to believe that he was fifty. His hair, which was iron gray, is cut short to his head, his mus­ tache is thick, and white as snow, and ! his breast is covered by orders and de- ; corations; j Every one looks up and stares, as ev- ! erybody invariably does at a new arriv- j al, and the waiter, with much fussy em- ! pressement, makes room to place a chair 1 next to Bell, and requests to know, in * an audible voice if “his Excellency, Count Mikoff, will partake of any soup ?” ; His excellency, with a comprehensive , bow to the company, seats himself, wipes j his moustache with a napkin, displaying I a hand almost white, and then falls to at 1 he soup. “If his excel enev is a Russian he ought to enjoy that soup,” whispers Hal; “for there’s plenty of grease in it.” Bell looks a timid prayer for silence, and the dinner proceeds. “Bell’s right. Princesses and that kind of thing, grow like blackberries in this country,” thinks Hal. “A princess and i a count in one day is not bad.” (Ta oe continued.) TITHING WITHOUT !FEARS. Mothers who have suffered the misery of restless nights at teething times, and watched their babies in the unhelped agony of that period, will welcome the safe and certain relief that Baby’s Own Tablets bring. Mrs. W. G. Mundle, Yorkton, N. W. T., says: “When my little one was cutting her teeth she suf­ fered a great deal. Her gums were ! swollen and inflamed, and she was cross I and restless. I got a box of Baby’s j Own Tablets, and after starting their use she began to improve at once, and j her teeth came through almost pain- i lessly. The Tablets are truly baby’s | friend.” This medicine is guaranteed to | contain no poisonous opiate or harmful j drug. It cures all the minor ailments of i little ones, and may safely be given to i a new born child. Full directions with [ every box. Sold by all medicine dealers i or sent by mail at 25 cents a box by J writing The Dr. Williams Medicine Co., 1 Brockville, Ont. ___________________________________ Madame Tussaud’s. Were you ever in the same room with one—ever speak to one?” “No, Hal,” says Bell, blandly. “I don’t remember that I have.” “Hem!” comments Hal. “Supposing 1 one meets a princess—and—and gets into , confab with her, is it the right sort of thing to call her ‘your highness’? ” “Certainly—I should say so,” says Bell, but with undisguised uncertainty. “I’m I not quite sure; oh, yes, but not too fre­ quently. What makes you ask, Hal?” “Merely the thirst which consumes me for every kind of information,” says Hal, grimly. Bell smiles and goes back to his letter, but Hal has not finished yet. , “I say, Bell,” he says, “ain’t it a rather rum thing for a princess to be trotting abbut alone? I fancied that they were generally attended by a companion—a what do you call it, sort of attache?” “Not always,” says Bell. “Oh, no, espe­ cially on the continent. The higher or­ ders of nobility are more numerous with foreigners than with us,” “That means that princes and duke3 grow on every bush, like blackberries, in Germany,” says Hal. “Well, a princess is a princess anywhere, isn’t she, Bell?” “Certainly, my dear Hal,” assents Bell, sedately, “but t fail to gather the rele­ vancy of your questions.” “Merely a wild kind of cackle on my part,” says Hal. “Perhaps I’m going in for etiquette, now I’m going to visit at a real castle, and live with a real live mar­ quis. Have you been up to the castle J yet?” Bell blushes. “Yes. I took an opportunity of walk­ ing UP yesterday afternoon. It is a won­ derful place, Hal. truly grand and won­ derful, and, of course, I saw it at a dis­ advantage, as the whole place was in a I state of confusion with Vane’s—I mean the marquis’—-expected arrival. By the | way, a very amiable and good-natured 1 gentleman, a major domo, who seemed to i have the general direction of the whole, ! on being informed by me that you were ’ a brother of the marchioness, declared j his intention of coming down to the hotel ! and inquiring if he could be of any ser- i vice.” | “Did he, by Jove?” says Hal. “Then j I’ll take care to give instructions that 1 I’m out whenever a big man with a bald head and shaggy eyebrows puts in an ap- [ pearance.” 5 “Mv dear Hal-----’’ / “Oh, thank you, Bell. I don’t want to be killed by another interview with a German who doesn’t understand my lan­ guage, and thinks I understand his. No, you shall receive the major domo. Haven’t I avoided the castle for that very reason, although I’m dying to see what sort of a place it is? No castle that was ever built is good enough for me, until there are some people in it who can speak my native tongue. Making great preparations, are they. Bell? It doesn’t seem real, does it? Fancy Jeanne having half a dozen castles to choose from! George!, most people are content with one. I begin to believe that when that long-nosed woman at Baden—I for­ get her name—said to me: ‘Your sister’s a lucky, very lucky, woman, Mr. Baar- trarm,” she about spoke the truth.” - Bell sighed, and nibbled the tip of the penholder. “When did you hear last, Hal, from Jea—from the marchioness?” “Oh, when?” replies Hal, half out of the window again. “Why, a week or two ago. wasn’t it?” “She was quite well, I think you said— ond—happy?” inquires Bell, softly, and blushing timidly, “Quite well, and happy, I suppose,” i says Iial, absently; "why shouldn’t she be? She never was one of your melan­ choly mopes, at the worst of times, and she’s got no reason to be now, by George!” “No—no,” says Bell, ' thoughtfully; “Jeanne, she’s happy! s you say, how could she be otherwise?” And, with a sigh: “So good, so unselfish, so thought­ ful of others—how could she be other­ wise, eh, Hal?” “Just so—you’re right, Bell!” he says, coming into tlie room, and beginning to stride up and down, as is his wont when I excited and energetic, which he is once I in every quarter of the hour. “Gad! ; there aren’t a ‘gooder’ girl going than Jeanne. Thoughtful! why, Bell,' if we would have allowed it, she would have lavished every blessed penny of her in­ come, enormous as it is, is/ on us! . Look at the money she gives me — more than I want, more than J I’d take, only that I mean to use it properly, and do something in the future to make her feel it hasn’e been thrown away. Bell !” he goes on, stopping short, with his eyes flashing, “there isn’t another girl like Jeanne in the whole world ! and—and 1 wish this fortnight were here,, and she was with us now.” Bell looked up with a moist look in his ; WAYS OF MEW<» j YORK BURGLARS. baffled the early navigators still brood over the surface of the deep; the sunken reefs, the shifting sand bar, the varia­ ble current and many another natural cause of marine disasters still beset the path of the navigator. Therefore, it is to the triumphs of invention and the perfecting of human control and man­ agement that we must look for an ex­ planation of the all but absolute security of steamship travel to-day. The secret of this security is to be found both in the structure of the ship itself and in the marvelously ingenious devices which science and invention have placed at the service of the navigator to guide him in the more perilous phases of his duty. Without enumerating those ele­ ments of water-tight subdivision, vast size and better control in the ship it­ self, or the wonderfully sensitive and refined apparatus at the command, of the modern navigator, we need but re­ fer to two of the very latest safeguards, in the form of wireless telegraphy and submarine signaling, to show that the present immunity from accidents is traceable to clearly recognized human causes^ The last-named invention is a close rival to the wireless telegraph in the great increase that it has made in the safety of travel on the sea. Testimony to its efficiency was recently given by an officer of the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse, upon which the new equipment is carried. We have so frequently de­ scribed the device in the columns of the Scientific American that it is sufficient to say that at the lighthouse or light­ ship there is a bell upon which signals are sounded and that upon the ship is carried a receiving device in the form of an iron tank attached to the inside of the plating below the water line, from which wires are to be led to tele­ phones in the chartroom or on the bridge. One receiver is placed on each side of the ship, with separate wires from each, and by the use of the tele­ phones the officer is able to hear a bell that is being struck at a point many miles distant from the ship and deter­ mine its direction. The officer of the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse states that on the last trip over, when the ship was four miles distant from the mouth of the River Weser, he plainly made out the signals conveyed from the lightship there. Furthermore, as the vessel neared Nantucket, and when she was about four miles distant from the lightship, he heard through the telephone the signal “66.” This con­ sists of six strokes of the bell, a pause, and then six more strokes of the bell, which is the Nantucket lightship code signal. At about the same distance from, the Fire Island light and from the San­ dy Hook lightship the respective signals were distinctly audible. The value of this device in preventing collisions be­ tween approaching ships is evident, for it has this advantage over the foghorn, that the direction of the approaching vessel, whether from port or starboard, is determined at once by the fact that the sounds are audible to the port or starboard telephone.—Scientific Ameri­ can. ----- —===== IS WAR NECESSARY ? French Writer Says Peace is a School of Cowardice. We all like frankness and admire a man who has courage to match his con­ victions. Such a man is Ferdinand Brunetierre, the French editor, who in the Revue Des Deux Mondes defends war. His views are digested in the Chicago Record-Herald as follows: “Brunetiere, in the first place favors wax for the virtues of devotion and courage it fosters. To preach peace, he says, is to ignore the invigorating and ennobling effects of warfare. Nations, like individuals, must keep strong, brave and resolute, and peace is a school of cowardice when carried to an ex­ treme. No doubt unimportant disputse ought to be arbitrated, for, after all, war means slaughter and misery and waste but it is well for nations to fight occasionally for honor and vital issues generally.” Of course such a position from a man so eminent has aroused a storm of protest, and his critics point out that to carry the argument to its limit, Mr. Brunetiere should also include dueling as a defense of private honor and free fights as a defence of private rights. Perhaps the French editor might reply that to let the bars down to that ex­ tent wax furnishes just enough scope for the exercise of man’s ferocious ten­ dencies to keep his virtue in running The vitaldefect with the view he ex­ presses is in the narrow and brutal sense in which it appears he uses the word courage. Have women, who never go to war no courage ? Every one knows they have courage equal to men withi the limits of their peculiar spheres of duty. It is evidenc­ ed not alone in those acts connected with the care of children which have caused so many women to face fire, shipwreck, tornadoes and wild beasts, but in the care and defence of the weak and helpless generally. Who can number the host of women who have laid down their lives in the care of the sick? Has man developed no courage ex­ cept what war brought out? The thought is absurd. Not a day passes that some men, a fireman, a police of­ ficer, a coast guard, a sailor, or some voluntary hero does not give up his life in trying to save others. That training has been man’s from time immemorial, and the training men have had from occasional wars is insig- nificent compared with the everyday training of everyday men. To make men warlike there is no doubt war is necessary, and that it tends to make them overbearing and truculent is highly probable. But that it cultivates the careful and conservative kinds of courage, better than they are cultivated in peace there is no ground to believe. Neither is there reason for saying that peace makes cowards except as it makes men who abhor bloodshed and repudiate wholly the barbarous notion that differences of opinion as to men’s rights may be arbitrated by wholesale slaughter,—Detroit Times. —---------—<J> * Wigg—When your friend the priae fighter retired from the ring, why did ha choose the coal business? Wagg—Well, you know lie always trained as a weight. ; ▼ V ; ( When folks are far away The burglars make hay. This ominous bit of parody is espec­ ially appropriate for New Yorkers at this time of the year when so many citi­ zens have locked up their houses or apartments to spend a while in the country. It is in the vacation months that the burglar seeks the city. The country then has become too dangerous The nights are so short that he can hardly get to work on a job in the hours when folks sleeps soundest before the light begins to break. In warm weather too, people leave their windows open; and should he have to use a bit of dy­ namite in overcoming a particularly stubborn lock, the explosion, breaking the deep stillness of the country, would be sure of arousing the neighborhood for miles around. In the city, however, the thief can Work more safely. He can hide from the early approach of day in the deep shadows of tall walls, and he can drown the click of his “jack” or the report of his safe-cracking blast in the roar of passing trains or cars. In certain parts of the city just now the unusual activity of thieves has caus­ ed a veritable panic. In East New York, for example, there have been so many burglars and sneak thieves abroad that men and women sit up nights with all manner of firearms handy to repel at­ tacks. Five thefts in the region bound­ ed by Bradford and Fulton streets, Ar­ lington and Miller avenues, were re­ ported recently in a single night. In the eastern section of Harlem 30 burg­ laries have occurred in the last 10 days. In spite of strongest safes, more cun­ ning electric alarm systems and more complete methods of identifying crimin­ als, the burglar seems to be feared nowadays much more than he used to be. An evidence of this is the tremen­ dous growth of the burglar insurance business in this country in recent times. A little more than 10 years ago practi­ cally all effort to insure people against theft proved futile. Companies were organized for this purpose, but after many vicissitudes they ended in failure. Sinlce that nearly a dozen corpora­ tions have come into existence, and so large is the business they do that in the last year they paid over $384,147 in burglary losses. In the same time they collected $1,386,610 in premiums. This increasing dread of the burglar is due to the fact that he never was more formidable or more active than at the present time. In these days of greater wealth those temptations which are so alluring to the thief have been multiplied. Consequently there are more diamond robberies, and crimes of a sim­ ilar character now than in the past. The discovery of more effective tools and more powerful explosives has also aid­ ed the robber, and although be does not attempt as often as he did to blow up the big city banks, because of their alarm systems and special patrols, his ravages in country districts have grown to an alarming extent. At the present time four out of five bank burglaries are committed in towns of less than 1,000 inhabitants. In the last eight years 776 banks situated in such communities were attacked, with a loss ,of $1,250,- 000. Safes once regarded as burglar proof have been shown to be little stronger than soap boxes in the hands of expert thieves and cosequently many companies will not insure country banks at all. Impressed with facts like these the government officials at Washington de­ cided to instal an electric burglar al­ arm system in the treasury department in addition to the old-time “strong vaults.” As Mr. Taylor, the assistant secretary of the treasury, said at the time: “We have come to the conclusion that the strongest vault built can be opened or cut by an expert safecracker. With the improved safecracker appliances abroad they can cut through five inches of chrome steel as easily as you or I go through a piece of chees with a case knife.” The modern burglar is also more wan­ tonly destructive than his predecessors. His us of “dope,” or itroglycerine often causes a greater damage to a building than the loss made by the theft itself. Even when he fails of getting loot he leaves a scene of wreckage behind. Of the $1,250,000 in losses occurred by baks, of which mention has already been made, more than $300,000 repre­ sented destruction of property. In rob­ beries of dwelling houses and apart­ ment houses the damage averages about one-temth of the total loss. It may be seen, therefore, that if thieves are able to break into armor- clad depositories -with such ease, they are far more ccitoin of success in rob­ bing private apartments. There are var­ ious sorts of criminals engaged in this kind of robbery. In winter months the sneak thief and house* burglar are those chiefly employed in this vocation, and in summer their ranks are swollen by 1 the “hobo” burglars, who return from looting country banks and post-offices. —New York Tribune. -------------------- --------------------------------- SAFETY OF OCEAN TRAVEL. With Modem Devices Steamships Are Safer Than Railway Travel. In the presence of the fearful loss of life in accidents on oui' railroads it is with relief that we contemplate the ever- increasing safety of travel by sea. Year after year passes by without any of the important passenger steamers that cross the Atlantic Ocean, or other oceans on which passenger travel is heavy, meeting with an accident that causes risk of life or limb to the passengers. This fact is the more remarkable when we remember that ocean travel has in­ creased by leaps and bounds during the past decade; that not only are there more steamers following the lanes of travel, but that they are running at much higher speed. The mail steamers come and go with a regularity ap­ proaching that of the best railroad schedule, and it takes the very fiercest of Atlantic midwinter gales to interfere seriously with this punctuality. In seek­ ing for the causes of this remarkable immunity from accidents, we have to look not at the natural, but at the hu­ man elements of the situation. Seas are as broad and tempestuous as ever; fogs as impenetrable as those that know. Of course I won’t call. Good evening,” and he is about to turn away, when he feels a soft, warm hand on his arm. “What is the matter? Have I offend­ ed you, sir?” “Offended !” echoes Hal, taken aback. “No, how should you ?” “Then why wil you not call ?” she asks innocently. “Because,” says Hal, then he stops short; “because 1 didn’t know that you were a princess. Your people, you see— I mean your people wouldn’t thank me for being so free-and-easy. I’m—well—I expect they wouldn’t consider me good enough. I’m not a prince.” “No ?” she says, with a little puzzled smile. Will you tell me your name ?” “My name is Bertram,” says Hal, “Harry Bertram. I’m called Hal.” “Hal,” she repeats, and the name for the first time sounds in the boy’s ears like a note of music. “Hal Bertram. It is a pretty name. And why will you not call, Mr. Bertram ?” “Oh !” says Hal, “don’t call me Mr. Bertram.” “No ? Hal Bertram, then,’ she says, evidently anxious to please him, “why will you not call ?” “Well,” he says, “well, yes, then, I will call, your highness !” / She smiles and holds out her hand. “Good-by, Hal Bertram,” she says, and Hal, uncovering, takes her hand, and shakes it, boy fashion. The next moment she has flitted up the winding path and is out of sight. Hal looked up the winding path, and then at the stream, and lastly toward the vilage, with a puzzled and slightly dazed look on his handsome, boyish face. Then he lights his pipe, puts up his rod, and saunters though the valley, up the clean little street, which is nearly deserted, save by the little cart drawn by its two dogs; by the stableman at Der Krone Hotel, who apparently do all their work while leaning against the posts outside the gate, and by the little hump-backed fruit-seller, who sits under the huge yel­ low umbrella, looking like a china image in her green dress and snowy white cap. Hal, pulling at his pipe, goes up the hot, white street, nods to the stable- keepers as they bestow an elaborate bow upon him, stops to stare at and pat the two panting dogs in the milkcart, buys three ripe figs off the old woman, and then clatters through the paved hall of the Krone, and, clattering up the broad stairs, saunters into one of the old rooms on the first floor of that most respect­ able hotel. Sitting by a table at the open window is the Reverend Peter Bell, writing a let­ ter with one hand, and beating off the gnats with the other. Perspiration is upon his forehead, for the gnats are nu­ merous and the battle has waged long; his sleek hair is twisted by the heat, and his long coat of Oxford mixture is dusty; but he looks up with the old good-tem­ pered smile, and greets the youth with the old : “Well, Hal ?” “Well,” says Hal, dropping into the chair nearest the window, and pulling the curtains into something like a screen. “By George ! it’s like an oven in here, and”—looking at the reverend tutor with merciless candor—“you look half-baked, sir !” “It is hot, Hal,” admits Bell, “remark­ ably so. It is true this room faces the south-----” “And it is evidently the favorite and fashionable resort of every fly in For­ bach,’ says Hal, striking out wildly at a cloud of those insects. “What are you doing, sir—besides melting, I mean ?” “I’m writing to your excellent aunt, my boy!” says the Reverend Peter. “I promised her that I would let her know ■ whe—— I “Whether I get into any mischief or i not; thank you, sir. I’ve been pretty i good up to now—eh ?” ! “Y—es,” says Bell, with a little dry ; cough of hesitation. ! “Oh, come sir,” says Hal, lazily expost- ' ulating; “I regard myself as a pattern J of propriety.”| “Well—well !” says Bell, leaning for- ! ward and mopping his forehead; “but 1 : wish you would address yourself with acquiring the language-----” ’ “All right, sir,’ says Hal; “I shall pick I it up in time. To tell you the truth i that’s the only thing that will give a for- ■ eigner the proper German acent. I’ve got some fish. I wonder whether they would let us have them for dinner ?” “I dare say,” says Bell,peering into the basket, through his spectacles. “Dear me ! they look very like English trout. I think I should like to try and catch some myself, eh, Hal ?” He laughs, knowing well that “Old Bell” could no more throw a fly than shot a pheasant.” “All right,’ ’he says, “we’ll .have a try to-morrow. Then he leans his elbows on the open windowsill, and looks down into the street with more of thoughtfulness on his face than it usually wears. Bell, meanwhile, returns to his letter, the completion of which is not greatly facilitated by the low and incessant whistling which Hal carries on. Suddenly the whistling ceases, and without looking arouitd, he says: “Did you ever see a princess, Bell?” “Did I ever—no; oh, yes, once, in Ken­ sington Gardens,” says Bell, mopping his forehead and smiling meditatively, “I forget which princess it was, but she was very fair and stout, and looked in a pleasing manner-----” “Oh,” puts in Hal, “I don’t mean that sort of thing. Anybody can see a princess in a carriage or at the theatre—or at 1 .1 me that!” says Hal, laughing. “It makes me feel like the idiots who go about with a knapsack and dressed like mountebanks! No, I’m staying at For- bach till some friends arrive. They are coming to that castle—Schloss, they call it—on the hill there.” “The Konig’s Schloss?” she says, nod­ ding. “Yes, I know it. It belongs to a great English milord, doesn’t it? What is his name?” “The Marquis of Ferndale,” said Hal. “ Yes, that is it. Your English are so difficult to remember, dale, that is pretty.” “Yes,” says Hal, carelessly; name is Vane, though; at least, what we all call him. He married my sister.” “Your sister,” she says, thoughtfully. “Is she like you?” naively. “Like me—Jeanne?” says Hal, indif­ ferently. “I’m sure I don’t know. No, I should say not. Jeanne is very pretty.” The girl looks at him with a little names Fern- “his that’s grave smile playing about her mobile' lips. "She is pretty—and not like you,” she says. ‘LA’ that rightc a beautiful place. Villa Verona?” “No,“ says Hal. he hesitates. “That is where staying,” she says, tie white house—o' Schloss!-—just by the church.” “I know,” says Hal. "Perhaps I might —I mean—that is-----” “Yes?” “I thought,” says Hal, fumbling with his basket, with a very red face, “that I might, that you wouldn’t mind if I called to ask if that beastly hook hadn’t hurt your arm much.” “Will you?” she says, not eagerly, but with a frank smile of pleasure. “ That is very kind! I shall be very glad! It is very quiet and dull—is quiet the right word? You see I do not speak English very well.” “Why!” exclaims Hal, enthusiastical­ ly, “y°u speak it perfectly! Your gram­ mar is first-rate, and—and—in fact, you couldn’t speak it better if you tried.” “Now you are complimentary,” she says, “and that is not like your country­ men—they always speak the truth.” “Do they?” says Hal, ironically. “Not always, by George!” There is a minute’s silence after this subtle burst of satire. She breaks it. “Are you staying all alone?” “No,” says Hal, “Ih with me.” She stares at. him, opening her dark eyes to their widest. “Your coach-and-four ?” she asks. “No—no!” says hal, laughing, “ my tu­ tor, Peter Bell, a clergyman who looks after me,” he adds, with a smile, “ and sees I don’t get into mischief and fall into the water. Though, by the way, I had to pull him out of the lake! He is at the hotel; it is too hot for him, and he stayed behind, reading the paper.” “And are you going to be a clergy­ man?” she asks, thoughtfully. “Not I,” said Hal, decidedly; “I’m go­ ing to be a barrister, or going into the army—I don’t quite know which. But it’s holiday time just now.” “I see,” she says, musing. “Well, I hope you will be happy.” He doesn’t bow, as he doesn’t lift his hat; but, ion, he says: “Thanks—the same to And it is much to his instead of smiling in reply, as an English girl would do, she looks dreamily before her, and sighs. Suddenly—too suddenly for Hal—she stops short at a little path. “I go along here,” she Bays. “We must say good-bye.” “Good—good-bye,” says Hal, and he raises his hat. She makes him a little bow, grave and demure, and is about to pass on, when Hal suddenly bethinks him. “Oh!” he says. “Wait—I mean, do you mind telling me your name?—so that I can inquire, you know.” “My name?” she says. “Yes. My name is Verona—the Princess Verona.” and she smiles. Hal stands turned into stone. A true Englishman, he respects rank. This simple, frank girl, wr.ose arm he has been cutting about with his penknife, is a princess! What right has he to be walking f.o far with so great a lady? He lifts his hat. “Tdge-d evening,” he says. “I didn’t ‘And she’s the marchioness—is Yes, the Konig’s Schloss is Do you know “Is that-----” li re­ the and am I| ’ve got my coach [ !I i ought to do— in blunt fash- I “So do I, Hal,”he says, ‘T—I am an old friend, and,of course, if;’s only nat- ural that I sho uld wish to see her, and rejoice in her h piness, isn ’t it ?—only natural.” “Just so,” sa;Hal. “Hrillo ! there’3 that old cracke d bell for t he table d’- hoto. What a I ssing one 1cloesn’t have to put on swaiIon’-tails. 1’1!1 just wash my hands and b<2 d ainute. Keep a place for me Dll', and,say, I wish you’d ask them they’ve 5pot a bottle of Bass—that ;low wine,with ten stomachaches t<) a bottle, d oesn’t agree with me !” And he clatters out of the room. Bell puts up his writing case—“A pre­ sent from the parishioners to the Rever­ end Peter Bell, Curate of Newton. Regis,” inscribed in gilt letters on the outside thereof—and, sighing softly, slowly des­ cends to the Speise Saab or dining-room. Hal runs up to his room, his service­ able boots still clattering on the polish­ ed floors; but instead of making straight for the washing-stand, with the ridicu­ lous pie dish and milk jug, which German hotel-keepers provide for ablutionary purposes, he seats himself on the bed, and slowly rubs his head, as is his way when he wants to tliinK., “A princess!” he says; “Princess of what, and what ’is her father the King of ? George, she’s too good—too—too jolly to be a princess ! Shall I call to­ morrow ? Perhaps, when they hear I’ve run a fishing hook in her arm, they’ll seize me and order me off for instant execution !” and he laughs. Then he takes out the fishing-hook, and looks at it curiously. “It’s what old Bell would call an ad­ venture,” he says, smiling. “Why should not I call ? Of course it’s the proper thing to do. Yes, I will !” Then, with much and eloquent abuse of the pie dish, he performs his limited toilet and goes down. Bell has saved a seat for him—a wise precaution, for the long, narrow table is lined on both sides by a company that, however mixed as regards status and na­ SOME HOLSTEIN TESTS. Twelve additional official tests are reported by G. W. Clemons, Secretary of the Holstein-Friesian Association of Canada. All of these were made under the direction and supervision of Prof. Dean, of the Ontario Agricultural Col­ lege, and may be relied upon as strictly authentic. The most noteworthy rec­ ord is that of Sara Jewel Ilengerveld, a four-year-old cow owned by W. W. > Brown, Lyn, Ontario. The following is the list: (1) Sara Jewel Hengerveld (4407), at 4y 2m 25d: milk, 533.1 lbs; fat 19.79 ibs; butter, 23.09 lbs; owner, W. W. Brown, Lyn, Ont. (2) Speckle (3844) at 3v 8m 26d; milk, 375.2 lbs; fat. 11.49 lbs; butter, 13.40 lbs; second week, milk, .389 lbs; fat, 11.84 lbs; butter, 13.81 lbs; owner, W. W. Brown, Lyn, Ont. (3) Betty Waldorf (4023) at 3y 30d; milk, 380.8 lbs; fat, 11.21 lbs; butter, I 13.08 lbs; owner, W. W. Brown, Lyn, Ont. (4) Dora Pietertje Clothilde (4029) at 2v Um 20d; milk, S73..5 lbs; fat, 11.08 lbs; butter, 12.93 lbs; owner, S. Macklin, s Streetsville. Ont. j (;5) Beryl Wayne’s Granddaughter i (4412) at 2v 14d; milk, 281.3 lbs.; fat, I 10.16 lbs.; butter, 11.85 Ibs; owner, W. 1 W. Brown. ! (0) Daisy Akkrum DeKoi (3652) at ! 3y Um 23d; milk, 267.1 ibs; fat, 10.06 ; lbs.; butter 11.73 lbs.; owner, W. W. I Brown. ’ (7) Acme Molley, .(4677) at 2y 3m ; 10d; milk, 337.2 lbs; fat, 9.14 lbs; but- ‘ ter, 10.66 lbs; owner, J. W. Cohoe, New ■ Durham, Ont. : (8) Bewunde Aggie Pearl. 2nd (5795) . at lv Um lid; milk. 209.8 lbs; fat, 8.6 s lbs;" butter, 10.03 lbs; owner, George i Rice, TiIlsenburg. Ont. f (9) Johanna Wayne Do Koi (4S25), at i 2v 10m 24d; milk,-253.6 lbs; fat, 8.44 l lbs; butter. 9.84 lbs; owner, W. W. Brown. (10) Inka DeKoi Waldorf (4411) at 2y 5m 12d; milk, 248,1 lbs; fat, 8.34 fbs.; butter, 9.73 -lbs.; owner, W. W. Brown. (ID Homestead Mercena (4678( at 2y 2m 6d; milk, 298.2 lbs; fat, 8.19 lbs; ■ butter, 9 55 lbs; owner J. W. Cohoe, i (12) DeKoi Jewel (4679) at 2y lm | 5d; milk, 303 lbs; fat. 8.13 lbs; butter, I 9.49 lbs; owner, J. W. Cohoe. ' ------------------------------------ ! ERRORS OF DOCTORS. Ailment Variously Diagnosed and Dif- : ferent Treatment Prescribed. j George W. Hennessey, a life saver, ex- : amin-ed by a physician of the United States Marine Hospital in New York and pronounced “physically fit,” dropped dead a moment later. John R. Millspaugh, serving a short sentence in the Detroit House of Cor­ rection for a minor offence, boasted that he could deceive the physician attached to that institution. He was taken ill and the doctors believed he was feigning illness—until lie died. Then they found they had deceived themselves. These two men died on the same day. Years ago a clever woman reporter visited the offices of a number of physi­ cians, gave them an identical statement, and., each named a separate complaint j and prescribed a different course of treatment. From time to time the news columns of the daily press tell how some unfor­ tunate has died of injuries and disease after having been taken in an ambulance to a hospital where his or her ailment was diagnosed as “intoxication.” Yet against any record of blunders, it may be worth while to offset the action of Dr. Michael K. Warner, of Baltimore, who destroyed his accounts before he died in order that his patients should not be pressed for payment by his admin­ istrators. There was the spirit that ex­ alts the medical profession above any mere science.—New York World. ■'4