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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1890-6-19, Page 6eslaaYi`IIYC where He Bound. Refuge. Re acts called a great exhorter, And hila richest deacon's daughter Looked up to hilt with revorenge too groat for words to tel,. Bub he greatly feared to court her, Thougi Ms tender glances taught her. De /eyed the very mudtrackswhere her footsy- geotsies felt, But her father "kinder sorter" Thought, , a preacher hadn't onghter Disturb the sweet sereneness of a happy Pitts- l.urg home; Solhe took her 'cross the water, And within a year he bought her The dearest thing in husbands to be found iu i;.mderu Boma.;, Though the preacher tried to hate her, Well he knew that soon or later Her LW() would come betweenbim and his duty to Lis church, For he board her tearful matey Say she'd learned that Prince Toniator Bullied three wives in Paris and had left them in the lurch, And az, now her doleful pater Did wtfli him desire to mate her, Ile ('acamo a missionary and of heathen went in search Till ori reselling the equator— 'Twas tt.rd lac);—au alligator Felt ;;mty for his suffering and snatched him off Lia perch, Not 'Uncommon. Just a selfish Maiden, Just a niggard old, Just a little wedding, Just a pot of gold. Just a funeral sermon, Niggard passed away, Just a buxom widow, Lich and rather gay. Just a dashing fellow, Trim from head to feet, Looking for a fortune, Something of a beat, Just another wedding, Just a honeymoon, Jost a foolish woman, Learning something soon. Just a squandered fortune, Just a grim divorce, Just a gray-haired woman, Just the usual course. ,ADOPTED BY THE DEAN : A TALE OF TWO COUNTRIES. Fsestawe's sitting -room was the most oozy of retre,ata ; the by -window facing south was :Wiled with ferns and broad-leaved plants, the firs seemed to throw out more heat than ordinary fires, miniature easy• chairs stood exactly where they were wanted, and books and pictures filled every available elate on the walla. Frances her- self was lying on a couch drawn close to the fire, looking very white and exhausted. She did not get up when Esperance came in. " I abali not treat yon as a visitor," she said in French, looking up with her peculiarly winning smile. N" This is quite an nnceremonions visit, I consider. Kathie dear, bring Esperance the little Spanish chair, will you ? " Then after the double kiss—a little con- sideration of her nationality which was greatly appreciated—Esperanoe found her- eeif comfortably installed beside Frances. 'Is your head no better ? " she asked, half timidly, for Frances realty looked very ill. " Well, it is bad jest now, but you will talk and make me forget it." The womanly instinct was strong in Esperance, and in a second her dainty little gloves were off, and she was stroking Frances's burning forehead with that soothing, hail -mesmeric touch in her cool finger tips which seems the only remedy for neuralgia. " Where did yon learn this delicious spell ? " asked Frances, " it makes the pain almost a luxury." Esperance laughed a little. " I don't think there is anything to learn. I did it once or twice to Sown Angelique when she was ill, and she used to like it." " Who is Sower Angelique ? " " One of the sisters in the convent at home ; she used to teach me, and I loved her dearly. I think you must be a little like her, for I always think of her when I see you." "Tell me about her—what was she like?" " She was dark and pale, and her eyes were brown and always shining. No, she cannot really have been like you, but she had a look on her fade as if she were always thinking of holy things. It mast be in that you remind me of her." Frances colored a little. " Andi were tbe other sisters Iike her ? " " No, Saar Therese was very cross, at least I thought so then. She always talked of discipline—discipline. while Sour Angelique never talked at all like that, but only loved. It seems so long since I had those afternoons at the convent school. Sometimes I feel as if it had been another Esperance of whom I had read—not myself at all." " You have had snob changes." " Ah, yes, and things that used to seem troubles in the old times look so little now. I would bear them so well if only they would come again instead—" " Instead of present troubles ? " asked Frances, gently. Bat Eeperance's hand Ceased to caress her forehead, and she was not surprised at a Gudden half -passionate outburst. " I do so hate England 1 If only—if only I were at home again! " " Poor little one," said Frances, drawing her nearer, "it must be very lonely and sad for you, but you know it mast be best, or yon would not be here." " I don't believe it—I can't," sobbed Esperance ; " if you knew how naughty I am growing you would not say so. I am miserable ; and it makes me more wicked every day—and—no ones cares." Frances' heart sank. It was hard to contradict even the last statement, knowing what she did of Mrs. Mortlake and the Collinsons. Happily she remembered Gaspard. " Your brother cares," she said. " Gaspard 1" with a fresh rush of tears ; " yes, he does, but he is away, f may not see him again for years. Ah, it is cruel 1 heartless 1 Why need theyehave separated ns 1 How can I be grateful 1" and she sobbed over this grievance more than over her home yearnings. Then as Frances' words recurred to her, she returned to her tone of expostulation, " How can it be all for the beat ? It is what all the sermons say, and the hymns- it is what papa himself told me bat I can- not believe it. When one sees and feels that things are doing one harm, how is one to believe that they ' work together for good ?' " " But, dear Esperance, I don't want to remind you of Seem Therese ; but surely troubles are sent as disoipline 1 My aches and pains, for instance, to teaoh me patience, and year loneliness to teach you, perhaps, to love: " To love! no, it is knocking all the love out of me • Iloved before when I was happy, but thls is malting me cold, hard, toy, just as they are." Frances had wished to steer clear of the deanery, and was notleased at the allusion, nor in truth was Esperance her- self for the was too well.bred�not to feel that mention of her cousins' failings on ht g to be strictly guarded against. She gave a little, impatient sigh, "I am getting rude and altogether bad, and ea (Cornelia is always saying, I have no solf.00ntrol. Oh, dear! if one could only understand things, and learn the lessons they teach quiokly,, and eee the reasons, and be happy t" " You make me think of one of Keble'e hymns ; if you will put up with the English I will say you the lines." And clearly and softly, so that oven that much -abased Jan. gunge sounded sweetly in Eeperance's etre, Frances repeated "' Till Death the weary spirit free, Thy God Bath said, "' 'Tis good for thee To wall; by faith and not by sight "i; Take it on trust a little while ; Soon shalt thou read tho mystery right in the full sunshine of Hie sinilo, '' Esperance mused in silence for a few minutes, then said " Yes, that is very beentitul, and it is just what I wanted. It seems almost like talking with papa. T emember he used to say, if we could believe that it would make all life happy, and I will indeed try. And yet I have tried, and always failed. It is easy to think so now when I am happy, but by and by—." " By and by," repeated Prances, " you will learn to ' take it on truet,' and though the troubles will be troubles still, you will try to learn the lessons they are meant to teach. It all sounds trite and easy e,•uugh, I know, but, of course, all disoip ue is grievous, and you meat not expeoa ao be quite free from failuroe." But why did you say that I must learn to love ?" asked Eeperanca, with a little reluctance, " Why, is not that the beginning of everything ? Your father must have thought of the lova as well as of the faith when he spoke of all life being happy." " il esux qui aisnent Dieu," repeated Esperance, ' ender her breath ; and there- with came before her that vividly remem- bered scene, when, walking together on the moss -grown terrace of the chateau, her father had prepared her for coming troubles. And now all his pain was over, and he had "read the mystery right." She dwelt for a minute or two on the happiness of the last thought before turning to her own difficulties. She was to learn to love, Frances had said. Did she really love her uncle, or Cornelia, or Ohriste,bel, or Bella ? and was not her love for Bertha still very feeble ? The questions were more easily than satisfactorily answered, and with a great sigh she hurried baok to make the most of the present. " I had forgotten your head ; let me stroke it again," Frances, fully understanding, allowed her to do so for a few minutes, then drew her down to be fondled in her turn, saying, half playfully, •at the same time, "And never say again to me that ' no one cares,' or I shall take it as a personal insult." What a luxury that little bit of demon- stration was ! After all, Esperanoe had a good deal of what Cornelia called the " spoiled baby " in her, and it was the hunger for the tender caressing love she had been used to, which had been gnawing at her heart for the last six months. Atter a time, eager footsteps were heard outside, and with a hurried knook little Kathie buret into the room. " Oh, Aunt Fanny 1 mamma sent me to ask if Esperance will not stay with us to eee the fire -works ; papa eye we shall have them to -night because it is so Clear. And you will stay, won't you? " turning eagerly to Espsranoe. " It will be euoh fun, and we may help to let them off, and you can, too, you know." Esperance looked bewildered, till Frances explained. ' It has been a long -talked -of treat for the children, and my brother-in-law has laid. in a store of fire -works. You will stay, will you not ? It will be delightful to keep you for the night." " To stay here for the night 1 " and Esperance started to her fent in such an ecstasy that Frances hardly knew whether she felt inclined to laugh or cry at the eight. ' Then you will stay ? " questioned Kathie, eagerly. " Yes, indeed—that is, if there is really nothing to hinder it," said Esperance. " My cousin—." " Suppose you go down -stairs and settle it," said Frances. " Kathie, take Esper- ance to the drawing -room, and mind you don't let her run away." The two hastened away, hand in hand, while Frances was left to muse over the conversation, marveling at Eeperance's utter want of reserve, and wondering if she had given good counsel. In a few minutes she heard the deanery carriage drive off ; then after a pause, in which she grew a little impatient, steps were heard approaching and Lady Worth- ington opened the door. Her face was a mixture of triumph and amusement. " She stays ? " asked Frances. "Yes, she stays," replied her sister, laughing. " But if only you had been down -stairs to have seen it all! Mrs. Mort- lake was all anxiety to put a stop to it, but was quite non-plussed ; I only hope she is not offended with ne." " But why did she object ? " " Oh, she invented all sorts of excuses, from the cathedral service upward, and really, when it came to the dean not liking her to be absent I was afraid we should have to give it up, though a more lame excuse I can't imagine. However, then Henry came in and took just the right line, laughed at me for not even knowing whether Esperance world like to stay, and sent Kathie up here with a message." " Poor Esperance, I pity her coming down to such a conclave." " 011, she was quite self-possessed, and, I fancy, very mnoh enjoyed being quit of Mrs. Mortlake. It was great fan to see them together, though I am afraid they might have been more plain-spoken if they had been alone. As it was, Eaperanoe deferred to her cousin just enough, but made it very evident that she would like to stay, putting in half a dozen pretty little speeches about giving trouble and want of preparation, Vile Mrs. Mortlake was stumbling over one. Henry was enchanted with her, and I have left him doing pater familial, with Eaperanoe in one hand, Kathie in the otherand boys everywhere, going to see the exhibition of rabbits." " Poor child, she will enjoy it. Oh, Katharine, she does want spoiling a little. She must have a dreadful time of it at the. deanery." " I am glad yon have Dome to my way of thinking," said Lady Worthington, with a smile. " No, not altogether. I have tried my line, but it brought ` to light so much unhappiness, that I am sire we must give her all the love we can, to counteract the deanery influence." " I quite agree with you. Well, I mast not waste any more time in gossiping ; there will bo just time to go down to the village and ask the school children to come pevening show. n � this to eee the ", I am glad they are coming , but what will Mika sayto hia beloved lawn being trampled on ?" " My dear, what is the nee of having a garden if you can't do what you like with it ? I have conquered my ooaohrnan, and I don't mean to be a slave to my gardener. I givegeneral invitation shall a ne lin it tiotthe whole village." Itseemed that the whole village aooepted invitation, nvitation, for by seven o'olook the lawn was crowded with expectant watchers, Mr. Miles himself being one of the number, good-naturedly willing to make the beat of. We invasion of his territory, and seoretly enjoying the little excitement as mnoh as anybody. On the terrace Sir Henry clad arranged his apparatus, about which Harry and Fred hovered important) while Kathie, ball afraid of suoh nnku importantly, things, kept fast hold of Beperauoe'sohand, and wmhen ysterious the firstwhiz rocket and was upwalerdt rusoff h with a tairl dragged her away. Y There was eomething weird and wonder- ful about the whole scene, and the awed silence, or murmurs of admiration of the rustic spectators, were equally impressive. Iloperenoe, though she had seen far grander displays at Paris, had never enjoyed any so mnoh, and she was as eager as the boys were to try her hand at letting off squibs or crackers, white Kathie soon lost her fear and pleaded for a '1 Catherine wheel," " to do all herself." Then after a shower of brilliant, many•oolored snakes, and an elaborate device, the assembly broke up, the villagers going home with lusty cheers, in which Harry and Fred could not resist joining, in spite of their mother's laughing remonstrance. Afterward, there was; a rush to "Aunt Fanny's" room, and a rapturous account of all that had been done, Frances listening with the greatest interest, and quite enter- ing into it all, though Esperance was sure— by the sharp oontraotion of her forehead, every now and then—that she was in great pain. In a few minutes, however, Lady Worth- ington came in and put an end to the chatter with—" Now, children, go to bed ; I am aura you are all tired." " Not a bit, mamma," . said the boys. Bat they were obedient enough, in spite of their uproarious wildness, and went off at once. After they were gone, Lady Worthington, Frances, and Eaperanoe sat over the fire, talking, till Frances, thinking that three was no oompany, wished them good -night, and left her sister to win Esperanoe's love in a tete-a-tete. And very well she succeeded. Any experience of real motherly tenderness was entirely new to the poor child, and she was soon clinging to Lady Worthington with all the ardor of newly awakened love, and talking almost more feely than she had done with Frances. They did not touch on Esperance's present life at al), but Lady Worthington, with the greatest tact, spoke of her mother, recalling two or three inci- dents in her life, whioh her little daughter listened to eagerly, and then going on to tell of her brief visit to the Chateau de Mabiilon, when Gaspard was a baby, making Esperance smile by her descript- ions, though it is true the tears were not far off, and came down in showers when the conversation turned to the troubles in the siege. Yet it was a comfort to her to talk, particularly to one who had known her father in however a slight degree ; and when Lady Worthington learned that she had never spoken to her cousins, or to any one except Claude Magnay, on the subject, she knew that it would be a real kindness not to shun the topic, feeling sure that it must be bad for one so unreserved by nature, to be shut into herself by the neje- taken kindness of others. So Eaperanoe unburdened her heart, and was warmed and cheered, and finally tucked np in bed by the motherly Lady Worthington, who had found a protege quite after her own heart. (To be Continued). Why Woman is Man's Best Friend. First and foremost, woman is man's best friend : Because she ie hia mother. Second, because she is his wife. Because she is patient with him in ill- ness, endures his fretfulness and" mothers" him. Because she will stick to him through good and evil report and always believe in him, if she loves him. Because without her he world be rude, rough and ungodly. Beoanse she teaches him the value of gentle words, of kindly thought and of consideration. Because she can with him endure pain quietly and meet joy gladly. Because, on her breast, he can shed tears of repentance, and he is never reminded of them afterward. Beoanse when he is behaving like.a fret- ful boy—and we all do, you know, at times —with no reason in the world for it, woman's soft word, touch or glance will make him ashamed of himself, as he ought to be. Became without her as an incentive he would grow lazy ; there would be no good work done ; there would be no noble books written ; there would be no beautiful pic- tures painted ; there wonld be no divine strains of melody. Because she has made for ns a beautiful world, in whioh we should be proud to live and contented to die. Because—and this is the beet reason of all—when the world had reached an unen- viable state of wickedness, the blessed task of bringing it a Saviour for all mankind was given to a woman, whioh was God's way of setting His seal of approval on her who is mother, wife, daughter and sweet. heart, and, therefore, man's beet friend.— Ladies' Home Journal. 1 The Sailor Prince. Lieut. Prince George of Wales hoisted his pennant on the Thrush May 3rd, and will proceed with that weasel to the North American and West India stations. The Thrush will probably visit. Qnebeo and Montreal, where Hie Royal Highness will be made much of. Then, of course, she will see a good deal of Halifax and epend some time on the coasts of Newfoundland and New Brunswick, and during the win- ter, unless the Prince wants to experience a winter in the north, she will accompany the Admiral on his cruise around the West Indies. This, and perhaps a visit to the United Statee, will fill np the time until Prince George receives promotion to Dom. mender's rank. Prince George of Wales is to act as chaplain as well as captain. He has taken in a stook of sermons among the other stores. —Fly screens are selling. —The girl in white is shoat. —It's fashionable to carry a raised par - awl on the shady side. -The fork is more bon -ton than the knife to sloop up peas with. A STEP Ted TAn. She could figure to a fraction the exact aisthetie action of each prismatic shading down to infinite detail Her taste was undisputed and 'twee everywhere reputed that In color, combinations she was never known to fail. d11o'dexpend upon a ribbon all the energy of Gibbon, and to her a simple threading would transform the face of day. In the art of woman's dressing she was groat be- yond expressing; but she bought her hub a necktie and he fainted dead away. there Canada Enumerator—Areany mortgages on your property ? House. holder—No, but my younger daughter is Soon to be married, and if she brings her husband home to live as the other four girls did, I reckon I'll have to ahove the old hotne up for its whole value. —It is loo cream saloon etiquette to keep on the kid g1ow6 NATU1,iE'S RAiLEST Qffi11T. Tho wonderful Shoshone Fulls Inthe Rings Desert, A letter from Shoshone, Idaho, to the Chicago Herald thus describes a wonderful oataraot in the heart of the crater of an extinct volcano : The traveller has reached the 'grandest bit of scenery in the New World. Ho stands in the centre of a monster crater-- perhaps rater-perhaps the giant crater from which poured the fiercest torrent of all the torrents of molten lava that ewept over the country. The effects of that tremendous effort are eeen upon the rooks, many of which are still red from the furnace heat to which they were once subjeoted. Boulders of lava, twisted and knotted by flame, hang from the perpendionlar walls and seem to thunder down upon the 1,100 feet of porous fragments which form the incline from the trail to the bottom of the basin. In other places in the towering walls which surround this blighted hole the flames of that prehistoric upheaval made caverna and chasms -actually ate their way into the rooks in their wild fury to join in the devilish orgy outside. Look- ing from the summit of the trail into the great basin 1,000 feat below -a basin of a circumference of at least 10,000 feet and walled in by perpendicular volcanic pall. sades 1,100 feet high—the spectacle is one of awful sublimity. The visitor instinc- tively feels as though he had entered the theatre of the devil. Above the great hole is the blue sky, with a hawk soaring lazily. Bloving slug- gishly through a narrow channel in the bottom of the basin is the Snake River, whose waters are as green as the brightest emerald. These are the only colors. All else is dead and in disorder. Here is where you might expect to see the evil one sitting astride a fire -seamed rook at midnight contemplating the ruin below by the light of the moon in its het quarter. A flash of blood -red lightning and a roar of thun- der are all that are necessary to complete the picture of the infernal regions. The grass is yellow and stunted. The few blasted trees and bushes growing upon the ledges look like those pictured in the haunts of sprites and gnomes. All are white as the shrouds of the dead. The only noise heard in this cradle of chaos is a continuous and sullen roar, whioh oomos from the bottom of the pit. Man can never know how infinitesimal he really is until he pinks hia way over the fire -swept flooring of the baein in an effort to find the source of the ceaseless roar. Around him is stretched an amphitheatre of walls so groat in their dimensione and so regular in their formation as toinstantly give birth to visions of a multitude of in- sensate beings watching from their circling seats the turmoil below. Trading the sluggish stream until it begins to boil in its race over rooks and through caverns, tbe stranger finally creeps to the edge of a mighty cataract, which tumbles in one broad, sheer fall a distance of 210 feet. A cloud of spray hangs over the boiling waters below, and through the white pulsating veil a rainbow spanning the yeasty mael- strom blazes with vivid brightness. Here is the jewel in this great ring of death. Niagara cannot be compared with it in beauty or in the grandeur of its en- vironments. The volume of water pour- ing over the cataract is not so great as that at Niagara, but the fall is greater and far more varied. From tip to tip the foaming, roaring crescent at Shoshone. a quarter of a mile. Before the tumbling waters reach the brink they plunge over rapids, over cataracts and through lava bowldera which have been gnawed into caverns. Beginning at one end of the crescent, where the water falls in a broad, thin, silvery spray, the torrent growa in volume until the main,0oataraot;;lis reached. Here the water is of such a solid green that it carries its color half way down its tremendous fall. Nearer the other end of the crescent the cataract tumbles over domes, minarets and pulpits of volcanic rock and joins in the mighty roar below. In the oppressive sublimity of all these surroundings—the towering walls of the crater, the thundering of the twin cat- aract of the new world, the wailing of a hungry coyote at the red sun sinking be- hind the purple, white -wooded mountains in the distance, and the knowledge of the barren waste stretching all about the great basin—the visitor loses all sense of fear and sits like one suddenly bereft of the power of articulation. Pretty Cambric Dresses. Pretty and inexpensive dresses are made of cambric with deep flounces, the edges of the flounces finished with narrow embroid- ery. All around flounces of embroidery are also ased, and in this way it is not unusual for almost all of the visible portion of the dress to be of this sort. There is, of course, an underskirt and bodice lining of heavier cotton or linen, but the dressy is all of em- broidery so far as seen. Brocades and figured goods of all sorts are popular, brit one may wear either plain or figured fabrics and be equally fashionable and well dressed. The new Japanese silks are meet- ing with exceptional favor on account of their exquisite draping qualities their dur- ability and fine finish. They have a surface in the finest twill, so fine, indeed, that it is not perceptible at a little distance This weave gives the pliability and graceful draping qualities which are justnow among the important characteristics of drees materials. Her Daughter's Literature. Mrs. Jaysmith—What are you reading Lon ? . Mies Jayemith—Pope's poems, ma. Mrs. Jayemith—Are they the poems of the present Pope ur the last ? Tho Ladder Would Be Expensive. " Let me see! Was it not Emerson who said : ' Hitch your waggon to a star'?" " Yes ; I believe so." " What a beautiful thought 1" "'Yes ; and how much cheaper it would be than keeping a horse." Ilomb Proof. Czar of Russia (just out of bed) --What has become of my undershirt ? Valet -Please, Your Majesty, the black- smith's putting fresh rivets in it. "011,dear 1" cried Miss Passes. "Here they'vgone and oat the day down to eight hours. Why, I'll be a hundred be- fore I'm forty." Tile United States census is now being aken. By the census of 1880, ten years ago, the states and territories were credited with a population of 60,155,783, exclusive of Alaska and the Indians; including those the figures were 50,497,057. The rate of increase determined from former decennial. counts warrants the estimate of a popula- tion of 65,000,000 at the present time. There are persons now in hell who Might— ht en wi v have been in hen 't nba the trouble. "--William b'Brien's New Novel, Dem and Wyoming are now anxious to enter into the einterhood o! Staten. Uncle Sam's family ie growing quite large. HOW TO P.tWi. A TRUNK. Some Advice ou a Very Important Matter of Nowadays. Our grandmothers would have opened. thole eyes at the thought of a processional truth packer. And yet,the fancied and real wants of modern lite are such that the packing of one's wardrobe for safe trans- portation is nowadaye one of the fine ,arts. Every young girl should take special pains and learn this art, not only for her own comfort, but because she can often thereby help ha friends and be the " good Samaritan" for many a weary invalid, writes Mrs, E. A. Matthews to the Youth's Companion. It is work that is specially adapted for womanly fingere, for the men seem to think that nothicg is needed but physical force, and their notion of packing is to roll up every article, and squeeze the bundles into corners, ani. put the heaviest articles on top. Before starting upon a task that will require a long tieno, and will demand much thought and planning, the packer should go from room to room, from closet to closet, from bureau to bureau, and seleot exactly what she intends to take with her. This is the only manner by whioh every- thing will be secured, and nothing mislaid or left behind. It is a good plan to do your packing in a lower room, es it is much easier to bring things down than to carry them up, and then it is not so hard to lift the trunk when filled, nor so difficult to got it out of the house. Nearly all staircases bear honora- ble soars than have been won inabattle be- tween trunk and porter. When everything has been collected, and the time of the journey draws nigh, the trunk should be brought down, its interior dusted and all its broken straps, corners, look, etc., carefully mended. The heavy articles, shoes, books, underwear, in abort, everything which will bear pressure, mast be placed in the bottom. Over thee° fold a layer of newspapers or a soft old sheet. In folding dresses, if the truuk is too short to admit of the ekirt lyingfulllength, be sure and fold it carefully over a little at the top. All strings attached to steels, in gowns, should bo untied. Tissue paper should be placed between the folds of good dreeees, and also, over peesomenterie or jet trimming. Thia lessens the danger of creasing, and keeps dust and lint from set- tling there. Dress waists should be laid smoothly in long shirt boxes. All the collars, lace, rnohinge, ribbons and handkerchiefs should be placed in pasteboard boxes, and packed with clothing on eaoh side so es to keep them steady. Hats and bonnets are the most difficult to manage, unless there are special com- partments for them, and of these there are never enough. They should be wrapped, each alone, in tissue paper, and then covered with stiff brown paper, which should be pinned firmly around them. They should then be placed it. boxes just large enough to hold them and packed in the middle of the trunk, where they can be held steady by the clothing around them.Do not plane your jewelry and money in your trunk. A far better plan is to make a stout bag of chamois skin, place your valuables in it, and fasten it securely inside your dress waist or any other portion of your attire most convenient. Above all, do not place your valuables in a handbag, so that you will lay it down on the car seat or hotel table, and leave it there to bo lost forever. All garments that are liable to crushing should be placed at the very top of the uppermost compartment, and if they are carefully laid, they will be subjected to but little pressure. If you are going to a plane remote from drug stores, or where the services of a phy. eioian will be hard to secure, it is best to provide yourself with a few simple reme- dies, lest you may suffer under some emergency. A bottle of Jamaica ginger, Pond's eatraot of hamamelis, some camphor, some prepared mustard plasters and a few soft oloths for impromptu bandages would be useful companions when away from home. Some of your favorite toilet soap will take the place of the bad -smelling stuff so often found in the hotel toilet rooms. The bottles should be plainly labelled, firmly corked, wrapped first in cotton batting, and then in paper and placed in boxes. Ink and shoe polish should never be packed in a trunk. It is better to buy such things when you arrive at your jour- ney's end. If you are packing for children, be aura to remember their little playthings. Make a place for dollie and her wardrobe, pack a small box with odds and ends of silk and cardboard, embroidery needles, transfer pictures, scrap book and other things, so small in your estimation, so necessary to their happiness. When the little creatures are taken away from their familiar surroundings, and deprived of the toys and games they love, it is no wonder that they got into mischief and are a nuisance to all about. In short, it is in packing a trunk, as in everything else. It requires thoughtfulness, good judgment, unselfishness, and a sincere desire to oblige others to make your work a success. How is Your Nose ? If your nose le not well your whole body is sick. A man doesn't appreciate his noses Neither does a woman. If a man has an eruption or an abrasion on his nose, I don't oare how indifferent he may be, he can't keep his hand away from it, and he thinks, very properly, that every one he meets sees that hie nose is not what it ought to bo. Yon can't hide year nose. It is like a city set on a hill. More appropriately, it is like a rod sohool house on a hill. All great mon have been sensitive of their noses. The surgeon leas the highest respect for the nose. How seldom he touches it with his lance 1 A woman will go to the opera with a bunion, with a pain in her side, with the neuralgia, with almost any ailment, but if there be an eruption on her nose she won't budge from her room. Slap a man's face or hit him on the back, and ho may not resent either. Tweak hie nose, and if there is any manhood in him he will fight. 1 have adopted a new rule. 1 ask a patient when he calls how his nose ie. It that organ is intact I have no trouble in treating him.—Interview in Chicago Tribune. No Trouble at!All, Bilkins— Jimmy Geater, the dumb man who lives in the next block, is going to be married. Strong—A dumb man, you say? He must have had some trouble in proposing, eh 2 Biikins—Oh, no; he didn't have any trouble; he is to marry a widow. KIMamSE, the New York murderer, has now nothing between him and death but a technicality. The only point to be decided is as to whether he may be legally electro- cuted by the Warden of Auburn jail. Tho German Empress Frederick loves little children. She can often be seen to atop and pat the little ones she meets in berdailywake and never faile to speak kindly to them. THE HAIR. Some good Advice as to Its Care and; Treatment., " Don't wash your hair." This is advice. given by a woman who Naso been at the head of a leading hairdressing establish- ment for the last 12 years. She says fur- ther : " 1 believe the averageyoung woman drowns the life of her hair by fre- quent washing in hot and cold water. We eend out about 20 young women who dress hair by the season, contracting for the entire family. They plan to give each head a combing twice a week, and, by apeoial arrangement, maks house -to house visits daily. Not a drop of water is put on the hair and every head as kept in a clean and healthy condition. We pin our faith to a good brush and prefer a short -bristled, narrow brush, backed with olive or plain wood. We use the brush not only on the hair but on the scalp as well. A maid has to be taught how to dress and Dare for the hair by object lessons. This instruotion is part of my duty. In teaching one novice I operate on the other; the first thing to do when the hair is unpinned is to loasen it by lightly tossing it about. The operations, need not tangle, and ae the treeees are. being aired they fall into natural lengths. Instead of beginning at the scalp the first combing should siert at the end of the hair. In other words, comb upward to avoid tangling, breaking and tearing the hair out. This raising of the hair will re move the duet. After this the scalp ehould be brushed thoroughly. By this'I mean that a full hour should be spent, first brush- ing the hair and then the hood."—Neto York Tinges. The World's W. C. T. II. Exhibit. (Contributed.) Very little has yet been published in thia oountry concerning one very remarkable feature of the Paris Universal Exposition, viz., the international exhibit of the World's W. C. T. U. oonduoted by Mrs. Josephine R. Nichols. The printed report of this exhibit is just out, and shows a marvelous work accomplished. In a land where it was the greatest innovation for a woman alone and independent of mesca- line management to arrange for such a display, where public sentiment is entirely opposed to the total abstinence principles advocated, where even water could soaroely be had,- no provision having been made for supplying it to visitors on the gronnde—in this great centre of wine and beer drinking, thronged by sightseers of all nations, a World's W. Ci. T. U. Pavilion was set up where millions of pages of temperance literature, in nine different languages, were distributed to curious visitors, where white ribbon doc- trines were explained and a living interest in the temperanoe movement aroused among people of all nationalities. In this pavilion a temperance cafe furnished alt sorts of temperance drinks to the visitors. Here were entertained in temperance fashion the United States Marine Corps of. young men, and numerous notables from, various countries. Representatives of the educational interests of Russia, Scotland, England, Denmark, Switzerland, Holland and many other nations came to learn what they could in regard to the temperance inetraction of ohildren. Newspaper men of various nationalities name to take notes of this novel specimen of woman's progress.. Many pastors from the city and provinces came for material for temperance sermons. During much of the time on week days, an.�„ average of a thousand persons a day passed through the building, carious to learn what this display meant. When the crowds swarmed about on Sundays the closed doors and curtained windows were a silent witness for Sabbath observance. The eucoess of the exhibit was farther emphasized by the Government award of the highest prize, a gold medal. The chief points upon which the award was based were the general work of the society, its publics- tion association, ite hygienic teachings from a scientific standpoint and the feature of, the temperance cafe. The World's W. C. T. U. exhibit was a practical demonstra- tion that the world's union is not a myth. The National W. C. T. U. of America helped royally with money and encourage- ment. The British Woman's Temperance Aesooiation sent a young English worker to assist Mrs. Niohols and also bore a share in meeting the expenses for building and literature ; Mrs. de Broen, President of the Paris W. C. T. U,, helped secure the space for the exhibition : ban- ners were sent by unions in Nor- way, Australia, New Zealand, the Hawaiian islands, South Africa, Sweden, Japan and other countries, as well as by many state unions. Several national peacs. societies also gave their support to the un- dertaking. The total expenditures for the exhibit were $2,429.30, the total expendi- tures by the superintendent $1,155.20. It is impossible to estimate the far-reaohing results of the work, Letters are constantly being received telling of the interest it has: awakened. hire. Nichols was invited to take the a;hibit both to the national exposi- tion at Dunedin, New Zealand, and to the great exposition of Japan. opened in January. Without a doubt a World'a W.C.T.U. exhibit will be a feature of the great world's fair. Australia's Grand Old Man. For unflagging industry and versatile mental activity the septuagenarian Promie i of New South Wales, Sir Henry Parkes runs our own g. o. m. pretty close. Not content with running the government of the parent Australian colony and engineer- ing the federation of the colonies, the old Birmingham ex-ohartiet makes long coun- try tours, publishes plenty of poetry, and spends three hours every day writing up his reminiscences. Bat all this does not satisfy his devouring avidity for work. Sir Henry has just commenced a series of con- tributions to the Sydney Morning Herald under the well-ohcsen title of Wise Words' of William Ewart Gladstone." These papers are composed of crisp, paragraphia tid-bits from the vast array of Gladstone'a writings and speeches. Sir Henry, as everybody knows, is one of the most ardent of Giadatonians, and it is gratifying to eee his admiration of the Liberal leader taking thin eminently practical and highly neefu shape. When the papers are eventually collected and published in book form, as they doubtless will be one day, they will form a companion volume, but of more wholesome and sunshiny character, to the " Wit and Wisdom of Lord BeaconsfieldJ` London Star. His Preference. Visitor -So you are going to school now, Tommy ? Tommy—Yea, ma'am. Visitor -And what part of your studies 'do you like best? Tommy -Recuse. The strike of the coal handlers on the Montreal wharves still oontinnea, and opal vessels are discharging very slowly. There is a matrimonial boom in St. John, N.B. About a dozen weddings were reported yesterday. It is a careful wife who puts four big ' err dish and berries on top of her husbanded s seven at the bottom of her own,