HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1890-7-3, Page 2The Sweet Girl Graduate.
She has wrestled with the sages of the dim his•
torte ages, she has .studied declamation
from Demosthenes to Berke;
l h,0 has sounded 8o11opo0.1auor lied been under
Dente's power, and eau giggle in all lan-
guages from English down to'lark.
Wean can argue in the isms, knows the ory of
schisms, and will go way back to Adam to
elucidate her views ;.
ghe$cau bring up illustrations she's obtained
from divert nations ou the somewhat
strained relations of the Christians and
the Jews.
From old Socrates to Spencer she has read and
read and hence her intellectual adorn-
ments are a wonder to bo seen ;
In the angles she's e. terror and in art she makes
no error, and she knows the mental value
of the haekueyed Boston beau.
he oan show that old man Pliny was in some
respects a ninny ; she has sneered at Archi-
medes and brought Tacitusto task ;
tihe'a revised the laws of Solon, knows the value
of a colon and eau oalonlate the contents
of the Dutchman's famous cask,
he has studied up on diction, has explored
the realms of fiction, knows the views of
Hobbes and Bacon and of Paley and their
crows;
She can quote from Pepys' diary and knows
Pope (so email and wiry) and has fathomed
Billy Shakepeare and read Burton on the
blues,
There is not a branch of knowledge that this
girl so fresh from oollege has not made
herself familiar with, from Plato do WE to
Pic;
But it isn't for her learning that she fills us oxen
with yearning—it's because she is a woma n,
and that's just the reason why.
—Tom Masson,
ADOPTED BY THE DEAN
A STORY OF W TWO,
CHAPTER XXI.
Rilohester again with its quiet, undis•
turbed streets and its busy tongues; the
cathedral with its daily services and its
thin congregations ; the deanery, with all
its luxurious discomfort, and the weary,
distasteful life once more. Strive as
Esperanoe would to be thankful and con-
tented, it was of no nse—eaoh day
eeemed more burdensome, eaoh petty trial
more unbearable. It was an intolerable
effort to be even ordinarily polite to every
one, and when Bella was provoking she was
sorely tempted to box her ears.
Cornelia told her openly that her visit to
Gaspard had upset her, that she was
ungrateful for the kindness shown her, and
that ehe ought to be ashamed of herself.
Mrs. Mortlake put everything down to the
long holiday at Bournemouth, and was
alwaye on the lookout for fresh employment
for her. Bella'e nurse, a kind-hearted,
sena, ble person, suggested that mademoiselle
felt the spring weather, and should take a
tonic).
April passed into May, and the alter.
nations of oold east wind and hot sunshine
did not improve matters. Esperance grew
more and more languid and depressed ; she
could not sleep, she could not eat, she oonld
not even think clearly. The one idea
impressed on her mind was that -Gaspard
was alone and starving, and this thought
never left her; by day, she dwelt on it with
bitter teare—in her brief intervals of rest.
lesssleep it haunted her dreams.
Things went on in this way for about a
mouth. Cornelia was beginning to feel
alarmed, and to watoh her with real though
oaref ally disguised anxiety.
One day when the lessons had gone worse
then usual, and Esperance felt that she
really deserved a scolding, she was sur.
priee i by the sudden question, " You do
not feel well, Esperanoe, I am sure. What
is the matter with you ? "
" " do not know," ehe
lang'lidly.
' u at you must know what you feel like ;
come, tell me e,t once."
" 1 don't feel anything particular."
" iVonld you like to see a doctor ? "
" Oh, no, thank you ; I have nothing to
say."
ornelia was not at all satisfied with the
spiritless tone of her answer. She had lost
all her brightness and energy, and whereas
she bad before been eager and responsive,
she was now silent and apathetia.
" You need not prepare your lessons for
to-morroR; we will read together instead,"
said Cornelia, after a minute's thought,
watohing to see what effect this would have.
There was some slight shade of relief in
Esperance'a " Thank you," but it seemed
as if nothing could make very much differ-
ence to her now.
Just then the gong sounded for luncheon,
and the two went down•stairs together,
Cornelia feeling uneasy and puzzled. In
the dining -room they found the dean and
their cousin, George Palgrave, who had just
arrived on a visit. Esperance looked at
him rather =lonely, remembering with a
pang the scene of their last meeting. He
was not the least changed in appearance,
but he seemed lees awkward, a fact which
she naughtily explained as owing to her
inoreased acquaintance with Englishmen.
He won her heart, however, by inquiring
after Gaspard, for though the queetion was
hard to answer, and brought the ready
tears to her eyes, it showed that he was not
forgotten.
Cornelia watched Esperanoe carefully,
noticed her reply to George Palgrave's
questions, the sudden blush whioh rose to
her cheek quickly succeeded by deadly
paleness, the almost impatient gesture with
whioh she rejected the diebes handed to
her, and her languid attempts to eat a few
mouthfuls of what was before her. All
brought to her mind that sharp, despairing
sentence, whioh had so startled her,
" Should I take Dare of myeelf, when he is
starving ? " It meet then be this trouble
whioh was weighing down Esperanoe ; she
should know as soon as possible that help
was at hand.
Several lettere had passed between Mr.
Seymour and the dean, and Cornelia knew
that Mr. Seymour intended to have a per-
sonal interview with Gaspard, and that if
pleased with him, it was highly probable
that he would give him employment.
Matters were arranged even more quickly
than she had expected ; that very afternoon
the dean received letters both from the
coffee -planter and from Gaspard.
" Mr. Seymour really takes him ?" asked
Cornelia, anxiously.
"Yee; he seems mnoh pleased with him ;
you Den read his letter, and the young men
himself writes very properly. I am glad
something is settled ; it hes been a most
tronbleeome correspondence."
" Yon will tell Esperanoe will you not,
tether 2 "
" Oh, well, yes, if yon think beet ; but
send her here quickly, for I am very busy,
and have been sadly hindered this morning
by George."
Nk" She obeli Dome at once. Yon remem•
her, father, she has no idea of thia ; it will
be a great surprise to her."
" Yes, yes, I tioderetand, my dear ; only
let ne waste no more time."
Cornelia hastened away in search of
Soperanoe, not feeling quite satisfied. Alter
ell, would thie help which she had taken so
rituoh Paine to seoure be very acceptable to
ber little cousin ? She wished Ceylon were
not ao far off, or that she had persuaded
her father to try for some Englieh appoint.
Slant for Gaspard ; and then Wiehed
heartily that she had more taot and ann.
Pithy, or oonld fancy in the least what her
answered,
feelings would be on hearing that her im•
aginary brother was to be ehipped off to the
other side of the world,
Poor Cornelia 1 in spite of all her wishes,
her voioe was as gold and peremptory as
ever when at last the found Esperanoe.
My father wants to epeak to you in the
library ; no, pray don't fidget about your
hair, it is quite tidy, and he is in a hurry,"
Esperanoe went without a word. A few
months ago she would have been excited by
euoh an unusual regneat, now she only
raised her eyebrows slightly. Cornelia
would almost have been thankful for one of
those objeotionable Fronoh exuletives, this
silence seamed so unnatural, and with many
misgivings, she watched her as she went
slowly down the dark staircase, her hand
passing landguidly over the balustrade rail.
The dean was pacing up and down the
library when Esperanoe entered.
" Cornelia said yon wished to speak to
me, uncle," she said, approaching him.
" Yes, my dear, just for a few minutes
upon a little matter of business ; take this
chair. Cornelia told me that your brother
could meet with no employment, and that
he was in fact in very poor oiroamstances,
and I have been trying for some weeks to
find some suitable sitnatiou for him."
" Dear uncle, how very good you are,"
Dried Esperanoe, springing rip with all her
old energy, " and you have really found
something for him."
" Yes ; Mr. Seymour, a friend of mine,
has offered him a situation on his estate in
Ceylon, and your brother seems very much
pleased with it."
Esperanoe tried to believe that she did
not hear rightly ; it had never entered her
head to think of work for Gaspard out of
England ; she turned giddy at the thought,
and sinking back into the chair from whioh
ehe had startled in such an ecstasy of hope,
asked faintly, '" Ceylon, did you say,
uncle ? "
" Yes, Ceylon, my dear, on a coffee
plantation ; very interesting work, no
doubt, and a moat fortunate opening for
your brother. I am very happy to have
been the means of introducing him to Mr.
Seymour, I am sure."
" You are very kind," said poor Eaper•
ance, feeling rather as if she were thanking
her executioner, and trying hard to grasp
this new idea, though well aware that the
realization would bring pain.
" Don't mention it, my dear," said the
dean, absently. " Three o'clock, is it ?
Dear me, there was something at three,
surely 2 Ah ! that tiresome missionary
meeting I I must go at onoe. The arch-
deacon might have taken the chair, instead,
I am sore—what's in a name ? " Then
half rousing himself," Here are the letters;
yon may read them, Esperance ; by the
bye there was one inclosed to you trona
your brother," and the dean hastily
delivered the whole packet of letters to his
niece and harried off muttering grumblings
about a " dull deputation," and " mission-
ary twaddle."
Esperanoe took the letters eagerly and
began to read Mr. Seymour's m :rveling at
her own composure. He spoke very kindly
of Gaspard, and agreed to take him to
Ceylon with him, offering him a salary of
L100 a year to begin with, and a prospect
of speedy advancement. Then came Gas-
pard's letter of thanks to the dean, written
in English, and this failed to awaken Esper-
ance's feelings, for she could not realize
that it was his writing at all. Lastly,
there was the little inclosed envelope
directed to herself, whioh she opened
eagerly, and read through fast -falling tears.
Ms VERY Dina oNE,—I hove been offered a
very good post on a coffee plantation in
Ceylon, by a friend of Dean Collinson. I
thought long before accepting it, for I can-
not endure the thought of leaving you alone
in England ; but at last I have made up my
mind to do it. It seems wrong to refuse
such an offer, and you see, mon tour, the
sooner I begin to earn something, the sooner
your exile will end. Perhaps in three or
four years you will be able to join me in
Ceylon, and we shall be independent once
more. This is worth all sacrifice and all
present pain to my mind. Am I wrong in
thinking that you will agree with me ?
How I wish we could have talked it over
together ! These letters are terribly unsat-
isfactory things. The whole affair is anch
a mixture of pain and relief that I hardly
know how to support it. I shall, indeed,
only be too thankful to be at work again,
but the separation from you, oherie, will be
well-nigh unbearable—."
Unbearable 1 Yes, indeed 1 Esperance
could read no further, and throwing aside
the letter, she buried her face in her hands,
sobbing unrestrainedly. To be away from
Gaspard—thousands of miles away—with a
vague hope held oat to her of seeing him
again in three or four years ! How was it
to be endured 2 Was life worth having
when it was so full of pain ? •
In the midst of this outbreak, Cornelia
opened the door, full of anxiety to know
how Esperanoe liked the new idea. She
made a gesture of annoyance when ehe saw
her leaning on the dean's writing -table, her
face hidden, and the open letter pushed
aside. Why must French people always be
having " scenes? " Tears were so con-
temptible and weak in Cornelia's opinion,
she could not sympathize with sorrow that
found euoh an outlet.
" Wby are yon crying in this way ? " she
asked, coldly. " Come, pray control your-
self ; you are getting quite hysterical."
Eeperanoe raised her head, and made an
effort to check her sobs. If Cornelia would
only have taken her in her arms, would
have given her but one caress, or said one
kind word, the relief would have been
unspeakable ; as it was, her coldness only
added to pain already almost intolerable.
It had the effect she desired, however, of
fording Esperance to control herselt,
though, whether the unnatural calmness to
whioh she schooled herself was really good
for her, is donbtfni.
" How is it that your are so inconsist-
ent 2 " asked Cornelia. " A month ago
you wereor ying became your brother had
no work, end now that he has met with a
good appointment yon are crying again."
" The separation 1 " said poor Esperance,
afraid of breaking down again it she said
too much.
" Nonsense 1 why you are separated now
practically ; it is only a question of thous-
ands of miles instead of hundreds. Besides,
how selfish to think of that, when it is for
his good."
It was very true, no doubt, bat Esper-
ance was too sore -hearted to find mnoh
comfort in this ; moreover, all Cornelia
said, though intended to be salutary, made
the wound deeper, and the idea of being
left behind in England more terrible. To
be left alone 1—alone 1—so utterly alone 1
She oonld not even ory now ; her tears
seemed to be scorched up, her ayes felt hot
and dry, and even Cornelia could not have
desired anything more controlled than the
voioe whioh asked, in an odd, nnnatnral
tone—" When does Mr. Seymour go ?"
" At the end of Jane, I believe ; that will
be just a month from now. Your brother
had better ace about his outfit at once."
" What kind of outfit do they require 2 "
asked Esperanoe, wondering how it was to
be obtained, and turning almost willingly
to this practical difficulty, in the hope, of
stifling the pain,"
" Ihave not the least idea, but prbisifibiy
and Cornelia glanced at the oloaely written
sheet whioh lay before her.
Esperance took it up and read to the end,
and there, sure enough, was the formidable
list of necessaries suggested by the ooffeo-
planter, but. whioh Gaspard looked upon as
eo impossible to obtain that he mentioned
them 'half laugLingly.. Shewas greatly
perplexed.
'" Well?" asked Cornelia.
"Zea, he speaks of it," she replied
slowly. " But I do not .much understand
such things ; I am still only very young "
The combination of adverbs offended
Cornelia's ear, but she was touched by the
pathos of the confession. There was some.
thing weary in the tone, at if it were sad
still to have so much of life to look forward
to, and it etrnok her that there was some-
thing strange and wrong in such a remark
being made by a girl of soaroely seventeen,
who should have been rejoicing in the hope
of Doming life, and proud of her age,
" I would not worry over the outfit if I
were you," she said, more kindly, " No
doubt your brother will manage it himself.
Yon have . a headache, I am sure, after
all this crying ; suppose you go out for a
walk—you will •
have time before afternoon
service."
Esperanoe was grateful for the kindness
of this speeoh, and wearily assenting, fol
Gaspard'e letter and carried it up to
t'e'
'1 fol of n„ d'
hermind still l es.
room,
of procuring his outfit. Whether it was
from the relief of thinking of anything
except her grief, or from the anxiety to
being something for Gaspard while it was
still possible, this idea quite absorbed her:
The nineteen shillings in her purse were
not consolatory—how little they would
procure for him 1 She racked her brains
for some means of making money, but for
some time it was quite in vain. At ltagth
an idea struck her—her face lighted up
with eager hope, and hastily putting on her
walking things, she followed Cornelia's
advice and went out-of-doors.
No country walk was to be hers, however.
She bent her steps toward the town, and
walking hurriedly through the more fre-
quented parts, reaohed a quite side street,
and entered a hair•dreaser's shop. Her
heart was beating quickly, and her voioe
was a little tremulous as ehe made known
her wishes to the master of the shop, a
round-faced, gray -headed, cheery old mile;
who would not have betrayed his profession
but for the extreme accuracy of his parting,
and the elegant curve of the hair plastere d
down on his temples.
" For cutting only, miss ? will yon please
to walk upstairs? '
Esperance obeyed, following her conduo-
tor to the shabby little room above,
ostentatiously advertised as a " Hair Cut-
ting and Shampooing Saloon." There she
took off her hat, loosened her hair, and
with heightened color drew it out to its-ftill
length, and glanced at her reflection in the
gilt -framed mirror.
" Just tipped, I suppose, miss ? " said
the hair•dresses, arranging hie implements
and surveying Esperanoe s beautiful hair
with professional admiration.
" No, I want it cut off," she said, half
carelessly taking the chair he had placed
for her, and tossing her hair over its back.
"Cut off, miss 1" exclaimed the astonished
hair -dresser.
" Yee, please," said Esperanoe, quietly.
" But, mise, you will excuse me, but it
is such a pity. I have not seen ouch hair
for many a day—so long, so thick, in such
capital condition 1 Many ladies, mise,
would give any money to have such a head
of hair ; they would indeed, miss."
" Would they ? " asked Esperanoe, smil-
ing. " Then that is jest what I want. In
fact, Mr. Jenkinson, I may as well tell you
Vast I want to sell my hair. How much
would you give for it 2 "
" Indeed, mise, I hardly k o..
ought to say ; but it seems a thousand
pities to out off such beautiful hair as that."
" Never mind," said Eeperanoe, flushing
crimson. " I want money ; what will you
let me have for it ? "
The man examined it more critically, felt
its weight, and again admired it. It was,
indeed, very beautiful—long and thick, yet
at the same time both fine and glossy, the
color of the darkest shade of brown, while
a soft waviness, ending in tendril -like ring-
lets, added not a little to its valve. He
thought for some minutes, then said, " I
would give five guineas for it, miss. If it
were light-colored it would be worth twice
that, light hair being fashionable. If you
Dare to part with it for five guineas, though,
I will take it."
Esperance did not heatitate a moment.
" Thank you,' she said, eagerly, " we
will settle it then." And without A shadow
of regret she submitted to the hair -dresser's
scissors, and thought of all that the five
guineas would buy.
In ten minutes all was done, and Eaper•
once, feeling :rather cold and shorn, was
walking back to the cathedral, contemplat-
ing the little pile of coins in her hand with
great satisfaction. The service over, she
returned to the deanery, and found after-
noon tea going on in the drawing -room.
Mrs. Mortlake had nee returned from the
missionary meeting ; George Palgrave and
Bertha were talking together by the
window, Cornelia was pouring out tea—an
unuenal thing—holding the tea -pet nngrace.
fully high, so that the tea frothed into the
oups.
" A very dull affair, indeed," Mrs. Mort.
lake was saying. " My father actually
went to sleep in his chair, while a young
converted Keifer was speaking through an
interpreter—eaoh a creature—you should
have Been—Why, Esperanoe l" breaking
off suddenly, " what in the world have you
done to yourself ? Are you trying to imitate
our Keifer friend 7"
Esperance laughed and colored, and there
was a general exolamation.
" I have had my hair out, that is all,"
she said, quietly.
" Cut 1 Why, it is cropped all round your
head 1 What is the meaning of this extra-
ordinary freak ? "
" I thought I could do very well without
my hair, and I wanted it for something
else."
" Absurd! What have you done with it ?"
" I have sold it," said Esperanoe, blush-
ing, and wishing Mrs. Mortlake world not
be a0 inquisitive.
" Sold it 1 " Even Bertha joined in the
exolamation.
Mrs. Mortlake, however, was more than
surprised ; an angry flush rose to her
cheek as ehe continued.
" You sold it in Rilohester ? How oonld
you. think of doing such an imprudent
thing. It will be all over the place now,
and every one will be gossiping about yon,,'
" I do not mind that," said Esperance.
" Of course not," said Cornelia, doming
to the rescue. " That ia the most sensible
thing that has been said yet. I'm sore I
don't know why you make such a fuss,
Christabel. "
" It's a disgrace to the hoose 1 " said
Mre. Mortlake angrily. " A moat unlady-
like thing 1 and in a small pleoe like this,
where every one mast know 1 Why, all
Rilohester will talk 1
" Well, Esperanoe, the family seem to
disagree about the matter," said Cornelia,
calmly. " For my part I have never
respected yon so mnoh before.
Esi?e ranee looked no gratefully. The
Mr. Seymour will have told him all about unexpected kindness was welcome enough,
that ; does he not tell you in his atter 2" and the was still more thankful when Por -
nelia gpietly turned the conversation away
from the snbjeot altogether, and succeeded
in engrossing Mrs. Mortlake's attention.
As eoou ae possible ehe slipped out of the
room, and went to the nursery to disopes
ways and means with 13ella's nurse, end
was soon so deeply engaged in the neosesery
calculations for a set of shirts that she for-
got the grievances of the lost hair.
" A spirited little oreeturo," said George
Palgrave to Bertha ; " but what induced
her to do euoh a thing ?"
"' Probably to help her brother ;' he is
going out to Ceylon, yon knoit."
" Will no one else help her ? It really is
a bard ease ; I shall report it to grannie."
" Well, that is not a bad idea, for she is a
favorite with grannie ; but I doubt if she
will thank you for begging for her --she is
very proud."
She most not know of our inter-
vention," said George. " What do you say
to a walk to the Priory this evening?"
" It would be too late after dinner ;
besides, we should have to take .Esperanoe
as a third party ; you forget propriety and
gossip."
Hang propriety 1 you and I ought to
be exempted from each a tiresome thing ;
tomorrow morning, then, by broad day-
light," and he looked up, persuasively.
Bertha colored.
" Very well, on condition that you do the
begging," she seid. George willingly agreed,
and the result was so enooessfal that
Esperance found a five pound note added
to her earnings, and given in euoh a kind
and delicate way that even her sensitive
nature oonld not shrink from the help.
CHAPTER XXII. .
" Poor Esperanoe 1 So your protege is
disposed of, Katharine," said Frances
Neville, handing an open letter to her sister.
Lady Worthington read it in much
surprise.
" Who would have thought of Dean
Collinson Doming to the rescue! My opinion
of him is raised. But they might have
managed to keep him in England. This
poor child 1 what a heartbroken letter
it
I suppose it is really a good thing,"
said Frances, sighing. " Bat it does seem
hard to send him to the ends of the earth
like that."
" if Henry could only have found some-
thing for him ; but he is so very just, he
would not hear of giving Gaspard de
Mabillon the chance of a eitnetion till
Julius Wright was settled. There was that
capital secretaryship the other day, but he
got that for Mr. Frankland, youknow."
" They have been waiting a long time,"
said Franoee. " I suppose it is all right."
" Of course ; but still---," and Lady
Worthington sighed impatiently. She
would have liked to kelp all the world, in
her own way.
Just then Sir Henry came in, not too
busy too listen to his wife's story.
" I am sorry we are forestalled," he
said, kindly. " But it is a capital appoint-
ment for him, and Mr. Seymour is a very
pleasant sort of man ; I met him at the
deanery once, not so very long ago."
" Ali, yes," said Lady Worthington. " I
remember now, it was at that dull dinner
whioh they gave for some colonial bishop,
while Mrs. Mortlake was at Bournemouth.
Mr. Seymour was the little, dark, talkative
man who tried so hard to put a little life
into ns all."
Sir Henry smiled et this desoription.
" He is a kind-hearted men, I should
think, and will be a good friend to young
De Mabillon."
" Bat I do wish we could have helped
him, Henry ; we have done scarcely any-
thing, and now that he is going oat of
England there will not be a chance."
" I will call on Mr. Seymour, and see if
cannot be of some use," said Sir Henry.
ops I might take his passage for him,
it will be a heavier expense then he can
bear, I should think."
(To be Continued)
The Girls' Brigade.
The Girls' Brigade in Scotland ie fast
becoming as popular and beneficial an in-
stitution as the widespread and famous
Boys' Brigade. The girls belonging to
these brigades are usually from 12 to 18
years of age, and are wage-earners in print-
ing offices, factories, shops, eto. They wear
red aprons with red and white borders and
red and white shoulder sashes over their
dark dresses, and the girl officers have
scarlet and silver stripes denoting the rank
of the corporals and sergeants. Their drill
consists of calisthenics to music, without
apparatus, but with precision and grape,
exercises in whioh rings, flags and ropes
are used, and marches, including several
intricate figures—wheeling turning and a
maze. There is also singing, and some.
times a May.pole dance, with a little
address from the superior officers, who are
usually ladies of leisure with philanthropi.
cal purposes. The work was inaugurated
by two or three young ladies in Edinburgh,
who formed the first brigade, and there are
companies now in all parte of Scotland. In
addition to the drill there are classes for
singing, sewing and Bible teaching, and
kindly talks on temperance, thrift and
purity, somewhat of the same nature as
our working girl's clubs in Amerioa.—New
York Sun.
Extremely Ingenious.
The Russian policeman when he arrests
a prisoner invariably kicks him. The
Nihilists therefore carry packages of dyne.
mite in their coat tail pockets, and line the
more remote regions of their trousers with
iron. The result is that when a policeman
kicks a Nihilist the dynamite explodes, and
as its force is always exerted in a down.
ward direction the Nihilist himself is an.
hurt, although the policeman's leg is blown
off.—Paris Edition Herald.
Beyond Redemption.
" Mamma, said a little Boston boy,
" Willie Jones is a very bad boy, isn't he?"
" Why, Willie ? "
" He uses bad language."
"Why, I am surprised. What did he
say."
'" Pants."
Foreman—Smith is a good workman, brit
he's in love and takes so mnoh time to wait
on his girl that he can't tend to business.
Manager—Well, hire a good looking dude
to get hie girl away from him and he'll be
all right.
" What canoes pimples ?" repeated a
Boston girl in town to one of our peach-
complexioned girle. " Your ignorance sur-
prises me. They are paused by the clogging
of the sebaceous glands with sebum,"
The total amount depoaited in the Do-
minion Post Office Savings' banks during
May was $504,164, and the withdrawals
4706,084. •
Bridge work, as it 10 called, ie a new dental
process of inserting artifioial teeth on what
might be called a band plate, consisting of
a narrow band of gold to which are fastened
the enbatitntea for the missing teeth. The
plate ie permanently anchored to remaining
teeth or roots and cannot be removed.
One of the new Stara in Wall street is
Camille Weidenteldt, who has just paid
423,000 for a seat on the atook exchange. Not
long ago he was a junior clerk in a broker's
once. Now be is worth half a million.
NOT TIBC THING sOR CANADA.
Commenting upon the 13111 before Con
grecs, intended to prevent aliens from
acquiring and holding large traots of land
in the United States, a Canadian paper
said the other day that 13ritieh investors
might soon regret that they had nedleoted
Canada. Sorely oar contemporary does
not want to see the land of thie cal vary
owned by absentees, who will be enabled,
SS population and demand for land in.
crews, Io take large sums 38 rental or
selling price from Canadians who desire to
cultivate the lands. The experience of
early settlers in Western Ontario with the
Canada Company should not so Boon be
forgotten. Why not let the land value
all go to the "Grown," that ie,
to the publio treasury, to be used
for the good of the whole people,
instead of steering it away to British non -
producers ? A letter in Bradstreet's from
New Zealand shows how that colony has
been injured by the system which our 000 -
temporary appears to favor for Canada
when it invitee the British speculator to
look this way. After deecribing the condi-
tion of general trade, the writer in Brad.
street's says : " The.gold mining prospects
are better than they have been for some
time, and excellent yields of the preoioue
metals have been obtained from some of
the mines during the last few weeks.
Other indications of an improved state of
affairs in New Zealand are not wanting,
bat it is becoming more and more apparent
that no great and permanent improvement
throughout the country can take plane
until the land question is settled
on some equitable baste. A few words
on this important subject cannot fail
to be of interest. The total acreage of New
Zealand is 66,000,000 acres, of whioh 25,-
000,000 acres are suitable for agrioultural
purposes, and about 28,000,000 acres are
suitable for sheep and cattle rune, most of
the remainder being waste lands. Up to
Deoember, 1888, 19,244,344 sores had been
dealt with by the crown, but last year the
authorities received £344,000 for other
freehold and leasehold lands, and it is
sufficiently accurate to say in round
numbers that about 20,000,00U acres have
been disposed of by the colony. Now 17,-
987,507 aoree of that land is owned by
1,615 families, and the greater portion of it
is used for the grazing of sheep, the valve
of their wool last year being about £4,000,-
000. But 1,140 of the owners are
permanent absentees from the colony,
drawing large incomes from it,
one owner deriving en annual revenue of
£85,000 from it, whioh he spends abroad.
An immense drain thus yearly takes place,
but that is not the worst feature. Only
9,172 families are living on their own free-
holds, from 1 to 10 acres for each family,
and 7,507 families are living on their free.
holds of from 10 to 50 sores eaoh. These
16,679 families, the bulk and flower of the
agricultural population of the colony, thus
occupy an acreage of about 400,000 acres in
round numbers, while 1,615 families,
largely absentees, hold about 18,000,000
acres. The absentees escape moat of the
taxation, as well as the labor and expense
of developing the colony, whose eyes they
have pinked out by securing at mere nomi.
nal prices the bulk of its best land. When
the small holders, whose properties are on
the margins of the large estates, went
to buy more land, they are asked almost
prohibitive prices, and thus the develop-
ment of the country is retarded, In this
colony there are '360 private owners, banks
and companies, which own between them
7,348,713 acres of unimproved land, valued
by Government valuers at £15,153,630.
Those properties are freehold, the estates
averaging 20,300 acres. Seventy- six persons
own between them land valued in Govern-
ment returns at £8,498,541. How these
lands are to be unlocked is at present a
mystery, but it is felt that such large
holdings of absentees will have to be dealt
with before New Zealand can progress as
ehe should, considering the climate, re.
sources and the people."
Fruit as Medicine.
It is very seldom that frnit is taken as a
preventive or onre for illness or disease, yet
the value of many varieties in cases of
slight ailments, and in some instances of
serious indisposition, ia indispntable, and
advantage might well be taken of this fact
by those engaged in the fruit trade to im-
press it upon the public more strongly. Of
the various fruits—Englieh and foreign—
grapes stand first from a medicinal point of
view. They are both purifying and nutri.
tioae, Peaches also are most hygienic,
especially if taken at breakfast time, whilst
nothing is more palatable and wholesome
than this fruit. An orange eaten before
breakfast will, to a great extent, prevent or
cure dyspepsia, and the juice as well as that
of lemons to extremely nsefal in cases of
'fever. Stewed apples might with advan•
tage replace many salts, powders or pills
given to patients by physicians. A
taste for tomatoes, although not natural,
ie easily acquired, and indulgence in this,
to many unpleasant, fruit, has a good effect
in liver and gastrin complaints. Currants,
raspberries, strawberries, figs, and many
other kinds of frnit are equally purifying
to the system, if taken regularly and
frequently but not spasmodically. We
might continue to cite examples tote con-
siderable length, but the precedingewill be
enffioient to indicate the valve of this class
of produce as health producers and sup.
porters. Besides the almost universal nee
of the orange as a dessert,the sweet variety
abounding as it does in critic acid, pos-
sesses in a high degree anti-soorbntio
properties. The enormous consumption of
this fruit among all classes must have a
very beneficial effect on the health of the
population. The late influenza epidemio
undoubtedly gave a temporary spurt to the
orange retail trade. As is well known, the
medical profession strongly recommended
the fruit as a means of alleviating, if not
actually staving off that distressing con.
plaint. This fact was endorsed by the
analyst of thie publication, and then made
the moat of by the metropolitan retailers,
who, especially in the poorer districts, ex.
hibited large placorde Reith the quoted
medical opinion respecting the anti•in•
flaenza virtues of the orange. The bitter
orange is a .valuable stomachic, and the
astringent properties contained in the rind
make this frnit an excellent tonic. Orange
wine is made in great quantities from the
Bigarade.—Fruit Trade Journal.
That's What She Ie.
The sweet girl graduate is the personbe.
cation of pulchritude, the sublimation of
symmetry, the idealiitation of intelligence,
the embodiment of enthusiasm and the
typification of tenderness.
Master Eddie Leo, of Cedar Rapids, Ia
11 years old, is about to take the concert
stege. His voice differs from that of young
Kavanagh, in that it ie a boy's voioe, while
Itavanagh's is a full-grown soprano.
Many a man has made his fortune by
keeping his month abut, but the rule won't
apply to the 42,000 tenor.
A writer says : " There are some things
a woman doesn't know." There may be,
but no man oan tell her what they are.
The Anchor line steamer Devonla, whioh
sailed from Glasgow for New York June
19th, has returned to the f3lyde. Etor high
proeenre pletbit became disabled.
♦ BU1DE BOB STANL1A1r,
Sketch of Dorothy Tennant—Bow the
Famous tl.rrteau Explorer W000. A.,
London Celebrity—lilies Tennant as am
A%tlst--Grand Wedding in prospect.
A Ball, robust, handsome woman, ratbe'
inclined to embonpoint, with fair hair, deet
blue eyes, a straight, well-developed neee, a.
lovely oomplexiou, white teeth, fall !mouth.small, dimply bands and pretty ;feet, about
describe the young lady who will beonme.
Mrs. Henry M. Stanley nest month. Blies
Dorothy Tennant is nearly 34 years of age,
and first came into prominent literary
notice by her clever illustrations of Mrs.
W. K Clifford's popular book, "Anyhow
Stories," whioh appeared some years ago,
and still enjoys an enormous sale. From
a eooiety point of view, few young ladiee
in London are better known than Mr.
Stanley's betrothed. Not a festival of
the year, from a flower -show or
a " first night " at the opera to
garden party at. Marlborough
house, but Miss Dorothy Tennent's name
appears in the list of guests. She has
acquired a distinct tame in Louden for the
quiet elegance of her gowns and the num-
ber and variety of her parasols, which ie
apparently a hobby with her, and she never
appears in the park, either riding or driv-
ing, without a cavalcade of admirers en
suite, whioh has not been lessened by the
announcement of her engagement to the
famous explorer. A clever article, generally
illustrated, in one of the magazines, or a
striking picture in one of the galleries,
keeps her always in .front in literary and
art circles ; in fact, as the Princess of
Wales remarked, when congratulating Mr..
Stanley, "You marry not only a very
pretty and very charming girl, but a woman
brimful of genius."
The story of Stanley's wooing is graft-,
ally being disclosed. He first met Mies.
Tennant when last in England and for a
while was received with the same coolness
whioh has usually characterized the lady's
reception of - attentions from gentlemen.
But the indomitable courage, energy and
wonderful powers of description possessed.
by the explorer gradually won the heart of
one who possessed similar traits in ea
marked a degree and when Stanley man-
aged to pluck up sufficient courage she
fainted with mingled delight and excite-
ment. She promised to wait until he re-
turned from hie next African trip, and.
insisted that their engagement should be
kept secret.
The letters which have passed between
" Stanley Africanus " and his fiancee, if
they ever see the light of publication—
love-letters of eminent persona are now
included in the printer's prey—will be
truly carious stories, for no doubt the
explorer told more to his lady love than
he will ever confess elsewhere of the awful
tribulations of hie march through the Afri-
can swamps and forests. His brother
explorers were aware of their commander's
love story, and many a tree in the strange
lands visited lute "Dolly" deeply out into
the bark. The natives need to think it the
sign of the white chief's fetish and often
prostrated themselves before it. In one of
of his letters Stanley wrote euoh a harrow-
ing account of the sufferings of hie band
and gave such a vivid picture of the death
of a gigantic negro swallowed by a huge
serpent that Miss Tennant swooned alter
reading it. -
Stanley has brought a most extraordi-
nary collection of curios home for Miea
Tennant, many of them being now on ex-
hibition at the African society's show. He
declares that he will never permit his wife
to share the dangers of exploration, and
that if he goes again to Africa she mast re-
main at home or in Egypt until he returnee
H is not anxious to have his wedding
celebrated in Westminster Abbey, bat
would like a quiet ceremony in the little
village church near the chanty seat of the
Tennant family. This wish, however, is
not likely to be fulfilled, as the Prinoeas of
Wales and other exalted ladies have inti-
mated a desire to be present.
Stanley and Miss Tennant appear to-
gether everywhere, and of course are always
asked to meet each other at dinners and re-
ceptions. The explorer is almost worked to
death, despite the fact that he hae three
secretaries laboring day and night answer-
ing letters from all parte of the world.
Samples of every conceivable article of
apparel and color are sent to him with the
notification that they have been named
" Stanley," and even Stanley pies, Stanley
sausages and Stanley toothpaste are
among the presents poured in upon hire
from anxious advertisers.
The Noble Art of Self -Defence.
" Do you think it would be wrong for me
to learn the noble art of self-defence 7" a
religiously inclined youth inquired of his
pastor.
"Certainly not," answered the minister
" I learned it in youth myself, and I have
found it of great value during my, lite."
"Indeed, sir 1 Did yon learn the old
Englieh system or Sallivan's system ?"
" Neither. I learned Solomon's system.
" Solomon's system?"
" Yes ; Yon will find it laid down in the
first verse of the fifteenth chapter of Pro-
verbs : ' A soft answer tnrneth away
wrath.' It is the beet system of self-
defence of which I know."—Home Com-
panion.
If Be Spent Less.
It the American workingman would
spend less money for ram, less money for
clothes, lees money for food, less money for
rent of hooses, less money for street oar
rides, less money for newspapers, lesa
money for shaves, less money for .hair
trimming, less money for—but phew, ire
no use ! We wore trying to prove that if
he economized on six dollars a week for the
year round that he would leave enough
cash to his widow to bury him decently
without going into the grave on the instal-
ment plan. But we can't do it.—Harris-
burg Patriot.
Not That Rind of a Critter.
Silversmith (to rural old lady ordering a
tea aervioe)—Would yon like to have it with
reponsee decoration ?
Old Lady—No, I reckon not. If there's
got to be any critters on it, I don't want
oats. I'd rather have canary birds and
butterflies; —Jewellers' Weekly.
The coming European rifle is said to be by
Col. Milanovitoh of the Servian army.
Col. Br4 "fprd, the new London Chief of
Police, h . ordered that members of the
force eh: , .ot hold meetings to agitate
theirgr°:v:Y , s.
The ease against Harry Phillips, of Mon -
treed, charged with abdnoting a Crown
witness, collapsed yesterday, and Phillips
was discharged. '
—Reporter—" Anything new, in the wee&
end ?" New—" Oh, yes, twins 1"
—Philadelphia's population is placed at
1,040,449: increase in ten years, 193,379.
—The population of Bbaton is estimated
at 417,720, a gain of nearly 55,000 during
the decade.
It has been lately shown that if two
coins be planed on opposite Bides of a plate
of glass and eleotritled for two minntee
they Will leave a perfect image of theni-'
selves upon the glue.
;O