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The Exeter Advocate, 1895-8-9, Page 2OWN' THEW' THE RYE. BY RETeleN S. MATT -MRS, MeanieSETal you? Who has made you 4uffer like this? Who has dared?" "It is not hie fault," I say, slowly; "it was all a mietake, George; all my own doing and vezeity." 41 don't believe it," he oriesovith flash - leg eyes. "You make love to any one? you let your heave go before it ever was asked for? Never 1 I have knowa you long enough, and well cinough; and you could not have coxed for this man without his having given you good reason" " There was no reason," I say. "Re told me he was in love with mum one else. Could anything be plainar?" "Did he tell you that at first—at the very beginnipg?" "Not quite, ' I say, in a troubled voice; not guess, Yon had; and never did a man chafe more th ander e knowledge than I. You would neither &Tay Inv oerroborate anything, and. sometimes I felt cortein you were beginning to care Mr me, sometimes, I believed, you were hankering after that man at Silverbridge; andt last—" " You told stories," I say, laughing gently; "you. told me you were in love witu somebody," "So I was. "And that you would show her to me." "So I will." "And your belnivior was inexousable." I know it; hue why, anti little minx, did you, rout me so utterly thet meriting in the gardth°. en? I was tenyou tiny love story full sail; on the pointc.of asking you If you would, try and. love rne, when out you tumbled a letter front your previous lover, with whom you told me, with in- imitable sang-frold, you oorresponded, And I had fondly imagined (after gettbag over the first unpleasant hook a your having a lover at all) that you oared noth- ing about him, flouted his attentions, and "hut he did not know, he could In - that should—" A burning, shameful veould none of them ! In self-defense I in- vented a Action; end even then, so stub - blush covers nay cheeks, and dries up the, born you were, madam,' could not gather fault prinking tears. "By Ileaven! he shall answer for it h: front your face any more than that you says George,between his teeth; and iwere disturbed, though whether on his ao- n his count or mine, I could not for the life of blue eyes is a fixed resolve that makes xne tremble. "I'll find him out, whoever nee I caught you by a promise, ohild, and made up my mind that b.ere, where or wherever he may be, and--" "My poor fellow,"I say, with a faint We first met, I would ask you a plain question, receive a plain answer." sraile," are you the one to seek redress for my imaginary wrongs? You are not naJ" It is a plain answer," I say, raefully; "for your sake I wish it were a prettier brother." "For onoe I wish I lam, "he says, quiet- ly; "I should then have the right to pun. "Little sweetheart," he says, devouring ish the scoundrel, who has dared to trifle 1 ray face with his eyes, "do you remember with you. Nell, won't you tell me about how I told you years andyears ago to pray it We are not lovers now, you know—we that you might never grow up good -look - are friends; and, dettayou need never fear ing? Weil, I am glad you did not, for I could not hear to loee a single one, not zny pestering you with unwelcome words the very smallest, of your oharras—your and attentions," "1 eould trust you," I say, very gently, lovely hair, your sweet eyes, and. sweeter for the tender pity of his voice almost lips. Nell, what do you suppose am I breaks ray heart; "but I cannot tell you, made of?" "Flesh:and blood. I suppose," I answer, George. 1 have never spoken to auy one living of it save ,you, and more than giving him a soft pinch. "We lime told. you I shall never tell." ll, then, I can't stand. this; do you We have risen, and are now standing by know that we have been here more than ten minutes, and that I have not had a the brook that leaps, and chatters, and single kiss; do you think I am so pa - froths, and fusses as it goes,pausin,g not a moment to look at the old, old sight of a tient?" "Not to -day, Paul," I say, trembing; miserable nia,n and girl who have wrecked tlaeir lives for love. "some day perhaps, or toanorrovv, butnot to -day; I cannot because of—of him, you "Do not suppose that I do not °ate," I say, passionately; "do not suppose that dO not knoev, eo g the world to you now, Nell. " Yes, yes," he says; "but you must not George Tempest," then I say, turning r. • the least afraid! Will you wait, Paul? "He must not be away too loisg, says Paul, significantly, or he won't find his daughter Nell wait .n for him ,when he gets back. For your sake, though, what would I not do for your sweet sake? I will not speak to him about our marriage be - ore he goes." "Our marriage!" how sweet the words sound! As I muse on their goodness, like a chime of jangled silver bells sweep S.ilvia's words across my memory, "You will never be Paul Vasher's wife, never!" Ah 1 but I am Paul Nagler's love, and that is what you are not, never will be, Silvia. Your wild words are very far away, very puerile and empty to me, as I stand vvith my lover's arms around me; harm can be worked between two lovers apart and misunderstanding each other, but what between two who are together in the first flush of aoknowedged love and with- out a shadow between them" As we stand cloae together in the gloam- ing, talking our half -earnest, half -jesting nonsense, out of the gray shadow a anants figure emerges, and comes slowly toward us—George Tempest! ale is looking down "Do you see that little devil, madam ;" ,thBater;e0bigerenilsaaylruguaplluds rttyuptVer Se' asks My father. "Do you know that be has bean dodging rae,me, for the last two "Da you know that 1 felt tied some - hours? (Ten minutes, he memos.) I'll times to see you looking sad? I thought break every bone in Ins skin when I ()Molt yoU were fretting after Lubin; and 1 said him! and nob ono of these boobies She to myself: 'Now she will know a little of points to us all standing about) eau put what I am enduring.' " out a hand to stop hint! stand at the Yes, he loves differently from George, foot et the staircase, and hold on to him not half so well; anei I worship the very wben he mines past. Do you hear?" ground Paul walks en, and I esteem and And off he dashed through the kitchen, like George as a brother. and round the water butt this time. Poor It grows late time has passed vvith such mother, she is in a quandary! She is as hurrying swiftnesa; through the dark utterly incapable of delivering the least stems of the trees before us shows the pet° deserving of her children up to the slough - blue -green a the evening sky, (sold ' and a ter, ae she is of disobeying her lord. So pure, and beautiful exceedingly.. N atur' she meekly takes up her position vshere is robing herself in her 000l twilight gar - she was bid, and when Larry mines pelt- ment of silver gray, shrouding the trees ing in at the door, and hits her a smart and fields Potty, as though preparing them _ blow with his head "below the belt," she for sleep, the sun has gone down; leaving ''' puts out no debaining hand, but subsides reel,. of amber and crimson chain's behind into a comfmaable heat on the met, while him; the leaves rustle gently in the the governor, entering in hot pursuit, autumn wind that wanders over the face catches his foot in her petticoats,and turns of the land. an energetic somersault over hor prostrate "I insist go home now," I say, springing form 1 Tableaa vivant! Larry has es - up. "But, Paul, Paul —papal" oaped by some upper window and got "What of hine?" asks my lover, pinch - away. In the midst of the wrathful clam- ing my cheek. or beloev, comes a shrill tinkle from our "He is furious at the notion of any of rusty front -door bell, and. straightway his daughters thinking of such a thing as papa retires to the library, and is plainly being monied. "' audible to something more then the ear "And. he married biinself, arid had of faith, taking it out of the furniture, twelve children," says Paul," which points "It is only Tempest," says Bashan, who the moral. Well, I am. going to call on has followed me, peeping round the big him toanorrow, and I shall telt him that leaves of the magnolia -tree that clothe the you and I—" mashie of our house with glossy green in • "Him! there should be only one man in "Do not," I say, with much concern. winter, and creamy, fainting flower-oups, "He would, first of all, kick you, or try to," I acid, mentally measuring Paul's in summer. "Only George! It could not well be stalwart proportions, then he woul oc me up, and, as he is going away in a fort- night for sante months, it would be a seri- ous business, for no ono would dare to let me out." "Poor little woman!" he says; "they shall not treat her like that while I am neari" "If you would not mind waiting," I thee, recollecting myself, "Go down - say, wistfully; "if you would not say any - stairs, there's a good Bashan, and make thing till he comes back (it would not be as much noise as you can sons to drown very deceitful, would it?), we could have the row the governor is making!" each a glorious time while he is awayl I Ienter the room with some haste to find ha e been looking forsvard to such a drill George standing with his back to nee, one too," I add, thoughtfully ; "but now I stooping over somethiug that instinot tells shall be able to get into heaps of rats - chief." tells 3110 is a little ugly, disreputable photograph that the sun and a Silverbridge "And do you think I am going to wait photographer worked between them to ray for you all that time, child?" he asks eternal discredit. Ho has on a "are you not afraid that nay patience will coat, just as I3ashan said; and there is travelling - wear out, and that I shall fall in love with about him that brushed -up, stiff, touch - somebody else?" me -not air that Englishmen mostly put "No 1" I answer, &molly, "I am not in • on when they go abroad, and take off when they stay at home. He turns at the sound of my steps, and conies toward me. "May I have this, Nell?" 'he ask, hold- ing up the poor little picture. "It is mother'e," I say gently. "but I dare say she would let you have it. It u as .only yesterday papa said that if be found any more of his daughter's lik.onesses lit- tering up the mantle -piece, he would put them all in the lire." He does not join in my uneasy laugh; and we stand side by side looking out at the gay dahlia -bods whose gorgeous colors will ore long be nipped and dulled by the chill nig.ht frosts. I have looked at him once and turned my eyes away. In all my misery Lutrtrell did I ever look for one single hour like that? You will guese why I am here, Nell," he says. "I have conie to say good -by to you for a time." And it was only yester- day that I was selfishly wishing that he would take himself and his disappoint- ments away out of sight; well, to -day I have my evish. "You will come back soon?" I ask, wistfully. "You will not stay away long?" "I shall come back," he says, quietly. "There is my father to be considered, you know. Promise me one thing," he says, turning his haggard face away," that you will be married before I cense back." "Married" I repeat. 0 George! and it was only yesterday that I told you— I have not thought about such a thing." • "But Vasher will!' How came you to suppose he did not love you?" "It was all a mistake!" "When I met you last night," he says, slowly, "I was picturing youyvith a heart as wild and unsatisfied as nay own; I was thinking that I would bear twice my own burden if I could but lift some of the trouble from your weak shoulders, and all at once something stood in my path; I looked up and saw your face, Nell, pas- sionate, tender, transfigured, with a looa upon it that had never through all these years grown under word. of mine, and, al- most before I looked at the man by your side, I knew Noll, I knew— When I come back I shall find it easier, please God. Good -by, dear." He holds out his band, and I put mine in his without a word, without a tear, and so we look at each other's pallid faces for a moment, then— "God bless you!" he says. "God bless you!" I echo, and he is gone. When the door has closed, I sit down on the floor, and, heedless of the fact that tears are a thrice -forbidden luxury in the house of Adair,cry long and bitterly,with no sneaking reservations as to tho quan- tity, quality, or the state of my appear- ance after it. Bitter and sweet, sweet and bitter, how have you not been mingled in my cup yesterday and to -day! and. there should be only swoote in those my early, freshest days of happy, assured love. All alefig the garden and orchard I go vvith hurrying steps. The convolvull, hanging their marble vases over the hedge, blow out their faintly -scented welcome to me as I pass; the pale bramble -blossom hanging, on the bow vsbispers, "Be is waiting! he is waiting!" the brook, as it hastens along, /nutters, "time le short, do not linger!" and very soon I have reached the trysting place, where he stands impatient, we. eh in hand, "How late you are," he says; then holding me away from him to look into my face, "Why, little one, you have been crying !" "Yes," I say rubbing any cheek against his hand and fooling that now I ani here It does not much matter whether I begin to cry again or laugh by his side, all is well vvith me. "Who has been vexing you?" he aSke, With au unainiablo frown. No one! It is about George.'' "George," he repeats, and •his arias slacken their hold upon me; "why this is the second time within the last twenty- four hours that you have been crying wiser Teen/cal You muet have liked him very Much !" "I did like him," I ansvrer, stoutly, "I do! He is be truest. noblest, Most ,urtsel- fish lover a girl ever had, only"—(I lift my eyes tO Paul's jealous face)—"I like you Rat!" "Do you, indeed?" ' he asks with a queer upostsed tWist of his brows. "And you have no slush word in your voettbulary as love?" "Pethaps." "At stray rate you are quite Sure that Tod do like me?" " "Quite sure, Mr, Paul Vashete Oita eurel" rn0 OONTINUI4Da much more!' I say. "He looks so queer," says Basilan, stretching his neck again. "He has on a long gray overcoat and a boxer, and his face is as long as nay arm." "Does he look as though he were going away?" I ask, anxiously. "Does he look as though he had mate to say good -by?" fret about me. tia 7UU1U If 1 mud wily, bear crimson ; 'Lubin, you know. poor little darling. it for you!" , 'What of him?" asks Paul, in surprise; "surely you are not bothering your head Be breaks off, tries to speak again—Tails; f abont him? Poor devil! he must heart then, without a word or sign, ones quick- , up at losing a little pet like you; but it is ly away, and I stand still tooling after not your fault, you can't help it. I have him, with aching, burning, eyes, and the hes,viest heart woman ever had. a notion"—he goes on, smoothing my eheek with his hand—"that this admirer George is quite out of sight now, and yours is a great, awkward, country - with weary steps I go to the stile that of looking fellow, who does not know what divides the meadow from the field of rye ' to do with his arms and les ; in. short, and lean over it,thinking duly of that day just what 1 first called him to you, a two months ago, when I made nirweeath and. sent George away oross, and ran Lubh12'. against Paul Vasher in the midst of the "Perhaps you will see him some day," I answer, smiling a little to myself at ripe grain. hat Paul's eotion of George; it must be a "History repeats itself," I say, sonrce of small seamier, then, that I fell in aloud, as I watch those cunning workmen love with himself. "Paul," I say, gently, —the ants, scurrying about at the base of "do you know why I have been frettmg to - the primitive stone stile; "but only to a day? Do you know why I have been cry - certain point, and there it always fails. Now there is no Paul to come'Well," over the inso bitterly?" field to -day; he is prouably shooting with 'Well," he says, looking down on zne of pride and amuse - the rest at Luttrell. I shall never''have a with a whimsical air men% "I thought that you might have chance of seeing him here either, for after to -day I will not come this way." been thinking a little bit about me, per - 1 lift my eyes, and see Paul Vasher ' liana?" "No, no," I answer smiling rather sad - catalog across the field of rye to meet ly, "it was not of you I was thinking just , zne. I do not speak or stir; the hour has and walking heavily, with unstrung limbs then, but of Mr. Tempest, hw who ad ane - come, and must be met; and somehow, and bent head; he does not see us until he IY m left e when you came; he was so pethaps, it is because my 'mart is m filled ahnost brushes our garrnents,then he lifts wretched, and it seemed so soon, so lade - with George's misery as to leave no room , cene bis eyes, and, oh heavens! I could ay sommtly soon, you to make love to e. for pity of my own, I feel a kind of in -1 aloud at the dull misery of their regard— diffexence. , "And you care so much as that?" he the set, fixed stupor ot his face, with not a asks, with a sudden jealousy in his voice "I have come to claim the fulfilraent of ' glint of hope or petite) or every -day in - that startles me; "you could be sorry for your promise," he says; then, as I lift my difference in it—and my face is radiant him; could think of him at such a time as this? Heaven knows I had no other with my new-found joy. eyes to his, he catches and holds them fast to his; and lo! my listlessness falls At first, although we are in his path, be woman in my thoughts when I told you from me like a garment, and a living, does not seem to see les, and is about to that I loved you." writhing pain stirs and leaps in my dull "Yes, I can," I answer steadily; "and I pass on when some gleam of consciousness heart, and I know that my old. glamour comes across his face,hie ordinary bearing should not be worthy of your love if I way,and that in all my past, peesent, and comes back to hitn, his eyes brighten. Is upon me, that all the world had faded could fling away all memory of his great misery in one moment to lose myself in "George," I say, stretching out my future, naught has place save the dark be - happiness with another lover the next." hand involuntarily: "George!' loved face that is looking so intently into He takes it as gently as if it were a "Did you ever care for that man?" he mine. asks, mildly, but he does not loose me out "You. never broke yo r word. yet," he of his earns. "Did you ever have the says, and his hands tighten their hold. upon smallest fancy for him?" mine. "You will keep you): premise, and, by some subtle intmtion, he knows: " 1" 1 , gravel • "if 1 had I Nell?" I feel it in the sudden shock that passes should be with him, not you, at the pros - With. his eyes upon mine, with the re- from his hand to mine. ent moment, should. I not?" sistless power he ever wielded over TOO "Yon have not introduced. me to your Be looks deeply into my eyes, and what competing me, I open my lips to speak ' friend," he says. the truth as before my God; then I tear flower. "Is that you, Nell?" he asks, in his natural voice: and then. he looks at Paul, he reads there must satisfy him, for he • murmurs fond, mad love -words over my Sttun.blingly I go through the form of my hands out of Ills, my eyes 11001 JUS. drooped head, call s me his queen, Ins heart s "1 eannot," 1007, with a bitter cry, "oh, I cannot!" delight, his idol. , "Is it Paul," be asks, folding his arms "Papa may come this way, I say, nerv- ously ,"be does not often, but he might; about me, and pressing my head down e let us go and sib down in my parlor." against his breast; "toll me, sweetheart, "Tell me her name," I ask, in a whis- We cross the bare brown fields, and reach my little greenchamber, where a big log per; tell me quick." of wood affotcle us a seal, and sit down "Nell; do you understand now?" side by side. As he lifts my arms and lays them about his neck, as he bends his dark head and "And now," he says, " I am going to show you any little girl;" and out of his seeks my lips with all the unstated hunger breast -pocket he brings a velvet case, of the first kiss, I turn my head gnickly touches a spring, the lid flies back, and away and hide it on his breast. Shall I there,looking out at us from under a veil receive the kisses of this new lover while of hair and a wreath of poppies, is—met the words uttered by the old one have "lieu- did you get it?" I ask, staring. /scarcely ceased to echo in my ears? hard. at it. (Surely, surely, I never was so "What is this?" asks Paul, holding me away from him to look keenly into my pretty as thatl)" "I asked an artist, who was at the Lut- face ; "after all, do you not love me,child2 trells' ball to study your fa,ce, and paint I should. have waited for an answer to my you with loose hair, and here it is." question. Do you love me, my sweetheart, (So it was my face that I left Paul to aly flower?" he asks, looking into my muse over that day on the terrace.) Lace with a passivn of tenderness. "I have kissed this painted thing very "Love you?" I answer, with a long, long sigh. "What; is love? But let me go 13ftenl" says, drawing me gently to his now, Paul; let me go!" "Lob you go?" be says, smoohing my hair back from my face,"now that I have just gob nay little witch? No! I will keep you safe enough, love, never fear!" "But you do not know," I say,anxious- ly; "you do nob understand; ISIS so quick, Fes seon." "Soon ! and you. have kept me at arm's- length for more than a month! Ahl 11 you btAd known the restraint I had to put -upon myself over and over again. I almost broke down." "Did you love me all that tinae?" I ask, softly; are you sure you did?" "Loved you!" he says; "1 think I have loved you ever since the Silvorbridg 4 days; I know I have loved you °vet since the day I met you in yonder field: 110V0V was so sorry to say good -by to any one as when I said it to yoti under the porch at the Manor House; and all the While I wee getting through that confounded business In town, was fidgeting to get book to Silverbridge, and, if it had not been for the absurdity of the thing, I should have tome back just to get an homes glirnpse a you. Then was obliged to go to the Ltittrolls, never dreaming they were rola- awls of yours, andthere I found you; and, aWeet, I had not known you it eveok before / Mee rny head 'completely. Living ae quietly ail you did, I never supposed Mt it reotnent that you could haVe loaer; but "May early the day, from one or tWo chance remarks of yours, I gathered that breast; "now the real lips are my own, do you deny them to me, Noll? I could take a hundred if I would, but I am too proud to do that; have you not one to give me, love?" For a moment I tremble and hesitate; it is so soon, so terribiy soon, if that other only knewl then, for my duty is to this, rny loed, I lift my lips to his, and as he folds me in kis arms, he kisses me as I kiss him for the first time, Across that perfect Use, than whieh the earth COD give me no =eh other, why does a picture rig(' up before me,of a man and woman stand- ing in the moonlight, wishing male other it passionate, last good -by? "If you were tot eo strong," I say, strok- ing Ins hand with my slim, fingers, "I :would keep you in such order, banish you to such it distance; you would sue so Meekly for ever such it little favor!" "If you were like that, "he says, kissing me passionately on cheek and brow, and eyes end lips (Veedly, one salute loads to it great many morel) you wouid never have Me at your feet. It Is the soft, adorable, bewiteliteg little creatures like you who get into a man's heart arid stop there, thoagh, IfeaVett knows, you kept inc at a distance Tong enough!" "I suffered for it, enough I" / say, sigh - leg, "Ohl / Obeli always consider you treated me Very badly! It is a wonder My hair is not gray With all the raisery1have hat*, "My sweetheart I" he says. assaase,,,,astaageseesasseempasaesasseatesaaasa WINDSOR IN WINTER, SOMETHING OF THE FAVORITE HOME OF HER MAJ ES TY. Pow Our Q1-11511006 ILetAldeno• hi Masted and Lighted—roue methods end Material, sett How 'rbey Are 'employee—coat by the '1'rain Load. For lighting the castle four methods are &Imitable, all of which are more or less in operation, viz: Gas oil, candles and the electric light, whifit for warming and cook-, Ing, wood, coal and gas are used. Daring the residence of the court some hundreds of persons are in the castle, besides the royal fatality and the visitors, consequently the adequate provieion of all these proces- ses is of a. somewhat gigantic nature, keeping many servants constantly em- ployed. For the general lighting and heating gas arid cosil are adopted, but this isnot so in the Queen's own rooms, nor in many other of the royal apartments. In No matter e fires for her own rooms tEe Queen strictly banishes coal. She has a confirmed preference for wood only, Spe- cial supplies of wood have to be obtained for this purpose from the thickly timbered hills a feev utiles np the river, above Wind- sor, where a number of workmen are re- gularly employed on this task. The tim- ber, when felled and roughly trimmed on the spot, is brought down to a wharf on the river side, where 15 18 dressed and cut up into blocks of fixed sizes. It is then stacked to get seasoned, and as required supplies are brought down to the castle for consumptiott in the Queen's rooms, Gas and oil are excluded from her Ma- jesty's apartments. Her light is provided by means of wax candles, all of one epeeist' pattern, their daily removal being the duty of a special official. In sorne of the other apartments gas is utilized, and in other parts oil lamps are burned, gas sup- plying the quarters of the staff generally. Moreover, although the Queen bars all but candles for her own private use, she has permitted the introduction of an electric light plant. This is placed underneath the north terrace, and is in charge of special engineer, under the general supervision of a prominent electrician. This plant bas never been largely used, but the light has been led into and applied to the main cor- ridors, to one or two of the royal apart ments and M the library. A year or so ago the original plant was replaced by newer and more powerful machinery, which would probably suffice to light the whole of the castle if the Queen so willed, but this has not yet occurred, nor is she likely to sanction it. Electric bells and telephones abound throughout the castle, but electric light is allowed very limited play. The coal required for Windsor Castle chiefly comes frorn certain collieries in North Wales, brought in train loads of perhaps 500 tons at a time. From the sta- tion it is carried to the costle, in various parts of whit& are deep and spacious cel- lars, into which it is tipped. Thence it is conveyed as required to the different rooms and offices, numbering some hundreds. Lifts are almost unknown in the castle, consequently the coal has to be hoisted from the cavernous cellars and carried hither and thither. by coal porters. The replenishing of the fires is carried out upon a most careful and efficaet plan, footmen and other higher servants receiving the coal from the porters and passing it on to the royal apartments at intervals through- out the day. Each official connected with heating and lighting the castle haft his allotted duties end recognized position, and thus the real - deuce of the highest lady in the land is lighted and warmed in efficient manner by many and various processes.—London News. introduction between the man I love and the man who loves ino; then, o no know how it comes to pass, we go on,and George passes on his way alone. It is Paul who speaks first. "And that is the man who loved you, Nell?" he says, slowly, "whom I have sneered at, pitied!—I1 Heavens, that I should dare! Sweethearb, are you sure that you love me—not him? He ie noble, unselfish, grand, as I never was, never could be. It is not too late now; do you repent ot the bad bargaba you. have made?" "I love yolk" I answer, clasping any arms, of my OWIlfree-will about his nook; "I love you, my darling; what is any man ba the world to me but a shadow save you?" "What is any woznan on earth, what was one ever," he wits, peering into my face through the closing darkness, "com- pared with what you are to me, my love, my idol, my wife?" CHAPTER XVI. "Nell! Nell!" cries the Bull of Bash - an, rushing headlong into my room, "come down quick! The governor is chas- ing Levy!" Anything more exciting than a race be- tween papa and one of his offspring could not well be imagined. So I fly downstairs in Bashan's wake, as eager for the fray as himself. It appears that five minutes ago the governor 'discovered Larry --- aged eloven—seated in the kiteheu, on a three- legged stool, eating bread-and-choese; and, of eourse, made a dash at him as a terrier does at a neighbor's oat. But Larry, 'in- stead of dutifully yielding himself up to condign punishment, showed a most un- expected spiria dropped his eatables and bolted out of the back -kitchen door, and into 9paved Walk that tuns parallel with the kitchen -Window, and about as bad a place OS Ile could well get into, for the only outlet from it Is by an entrance to the house higher up, or a return to the same thtottgh the kitchen -door. The goa- ernor is well aware of this facie, and, in- stead of giving a straight chase after the culprit, gravitates between this Stgircase and the hack -kitchen, Larry outside, he 10, pars/tier and pursued plainly visible to each °thee through the windoWS, "What is the utatter?" asks mother, owning intand gleaming with ashazement from papa's infuriated colanteoance to that of he' naibetable sonawhe is just peePs Ing in with a leidierous ,of fear' ttliri bravo on hie Small face. STAGE C EA T HS. *Wand Authority iaacteres Thes: Oats rageousia Violeta Nature. A. French dramatic mitic, With mine show of Inedleal knowledge, represents thaVhearly all actors and actresses out- rageously violate nature in their butte,. tions of death. He cites iit coeraboration ot hie charge, the customary theattrieal death of Camille, in the younger DuMa'S f refolotiliinoh eentirtio itletk bbs a aplayuoofrt, iT tiitaleo, in e affected with pulmonary consumption, and an incidental attack of hemorrhage caf the lungs extinguishes her life. There is abaolutely nothing dramatic to be made out of thie mode of dyiug; if fidelity to Seat he obeyed. The gushing of a stream of blood from the mouth woulcl be realistic, but the imitation of such. a phenomenon is never made by actors, male or female, nor any discreet manager tolerate suck a piece ef stage business. Again, the over- whelming suffoeatimt which produces the rapid death in Canaille's case is never acoomlenti -1 by convulsions, such as her dying repreteatatives on the stage alnaost always assursta. In natural death from this Cause the sufferer simply collapses from failure of the vital powers. Theatrical poisoning scenes are also Us- ually untrue to nature. It is popularly believed thet when a fatal dose of laudan- um or morphine is swallowed the victim inn t ediately sinks into a death -like sleep, as is commonly seen on the stage, where- as the first effeet of this poison taken in like quantity is iuvariably to exeite and einh•en. Nor is the mode of dying after the hack- neyed cardiac stage -stab in conformity with the laws of nature. The actor sim- ply falls at fall length, or in a heap, whereas the every -day member of society gives a spring when the heart is struck before entering eternity by this unhappy gate. Even the modern Othello has not inherited enough of Shakespeare's won- derful fidelity to truth to die naturally after a stab through theheart.—Cineinnati Enquirer. Sweating Walters. Waiters in the foreign restaurants of London have distinct grievances that should be remedied, if the statements of a German waiter in a contemporary are to be believed. He makes complaint of the annoyance and anxiety suffered by him- self, in common with other members of his class, owing to a system of sweating of the not obnoxious kind 'which, he asserts, is practiced in restaurants that are kept and =minty frequented by foreigners. The prordetors of these establishments not only pay their waiters nothing, but exact front them a premium of sometimes as much as half a sovereign for the privilege of attending to the wants of customers and performing other duties for twelve or sixteen hours a day. In those restaurants largely patronized by Englishmen and Americans it seems that these men are, able to earn a more or less meager income, even though their masters impose a fur- ther tax upon. them. by charging for at- tenclance in the bill, but where the cus- tomers bail from countries in which tip- ping does not obtain they find the struggle for existence both bitter and disappoint- ing, New Light on Courtship and Marriage. An Englieh writer has recently been giving sorne what he calls "new light oa love, courtship and marriage" that is worth considering. Anybody, he says, who has not yet fallen in love can readily raise the vision of the subsequent deer one by looking at binaself in the glass. If be be stout, the girl will probably be thin; if he have a snub nose, his love will center about the Boman one; if he be dark, 10 to 1 a blonde ultimately captures him. Thus nature corrects defects and strives to realize her ideal. The saute holds good M a measure of the mental qualities. A fool should make it his business to fall in love with a clever woman, and, conversely, a wise man should marry a fool if he has any respect for nature. Note, further,that girls with Roman noses are, as a rule,good house managers; but against this amiable quality must be set the fact that your Roman nose is essentially managing in every direction and is not content with domestic duties alone. Your Rona= nose, in fact, requires a complete surrender and is rarely happy till she gets it. Noses, he thinks, are a leading index to character, Avoid &sharp nose. If, besides being sharp, it is tinted w 'eh varying shades of red or blue, or is blue pointed, there as an asperity of temper, which it would not be well for you to encounter. Let your converse with "blue points" be confined to the oyster bar, then. Avoid the blue -nosed maiden as you would the blue -nosed ourang-outang—both are capable of infinite mischief. He also cautions us against red hair and bushy eyebrows. In selecting &husband "choose a sensible man, one of solid, mature judg- ment." Excellent advice, only a bit too g-eneral, as is Lis infallible recipe for win- ning his love. To do so a vroznan must possess womanly graces, the power of setting out her qualities so se to inspire the tender passion and gift of fascination. That is the whole secret. Stub Mndti er Thougait, A woman talks at her best when she doesn't know what !she is talking about. Domestie felicity is of as many types as religion is. We unconsciously judge all men by our - Selves. While it man is thinking how a thing ought to be doe, a woman will dolt. Cupid always goes about with his bOve and arrows loaded, A wise man discovers by patient study what it fool stuinbIewupon. omen admire handsome men, and love homely ones, No woman should ever worry over the loss of a man who hadn't the courage to Salt for her, The Old Czar and the New. Almost the last thought of the late Czar was for the theatre employes, who, in a way, would be among the chief losers by his death. Opening his eyes with an effort, he signed to tbe Czarovvitz to approach. "Do not let the theatres suffer on account of the long mourning. E do not wish so many people should be reduced to misery on account of my death." The new Em- peror did not forget his father's dying words, for one of his first acts was to give 500,000 roubles toward the support of the actors and actresses during the time that they were to be out of employment. The new Czar has received his late fath- er's Ministers with cordial warmth, and when M. De Giers, the Minister for For- eign Affairs, requested permission to re- tire from his post on account 01 111 health, Nicolas II. expressed a hope that they might work together for many years to come. But M. De Giers replied, "See, your Majesty, my feet can no longer carry me." "It is not your feet, but your head of which I have need," responded the Czar. conto i ante, "Leave the house." For an instant he confronted the girl in; allente. "Very *ell," he answered, With an et fort. He vette true to hie wet& Although a letiegler and a social outcast, . he l'I ett not only the mam, but the kitten. ar,. tubs iti the kitchen and the traaft piano. Music and the Moneymakers. The belief that bees can hear, and that they find music itt sounds which to human beings are hideous, is at least as old as Virgil, and probably a good deal older. Has not Virgil described—and have we not all heard in our childhood—bow any- one can persuade bees to swarm by bang- ing a gong itt an intelligent and insinuat- ing manner? Beekeepers, it is true, have of late years abandoned the practice, but the belief in its efficacy still prevails to a considerable extent. At last, however, Sir John Lubbock comes to knock the lusion on the head. Ile made some experi- ments with honey and a musical box,wisla- ing to know whether the tinkling tunes would have the same effect upon bees as the sound of the dinner bell has upon a hungry terrier. He found that the bees, however huugry, never rose to associating. She idea of the music with the idea of meals, and he draws the inference that they cannot hear. The argument certain- ly soultds conclusive, but Sir John could hardly have surprised no more if he had told us that bees could not sting. Stone That is klexible. It maybe safely said that no specimen in it geological collection is more curious than the bar of flexible sandstone, which e,an be bent with less pressure than that required to bend a piece of wet leather of the same size. In an article upon the sub- ject in the Mineral Collector we are told that "when a thin slice of the stone 15 looked at under it lens by transmitted light the fragments are seen to be locked together like the parts of a sectional toy, fixed, but only loosely. The simplest way of explaining how tint; stone was formed is to say that grains of sand were once cemented firmly together by another material. which has betel partly dissolved, leaving eotintless natural ball-and-socket joints of jagged shape behind.." church Bata It is a queer fact that in the basement of a certain Lewiston church live bats that never go out, but exist upon the mice they can cattail there, The janitor says that a dozen of them will watch for it mouse, and when he appears swoop down upon him, end after a lively battle he is conquered. If any of the bats are overcome in the fray they are eaten, too. The basement wes en- tirely freed from them once. The furnace tender would leave the wiedow open till midnight, and then close it while the bats Were outside, a,nd they had to find another abode. Darod Not race the 'lama Voices et the head of the stairs—GeOrge, baire you been drinking? George—Xotm. Voice --Say chrysantheinum, George (silent for a naorneatteartia deanksh, tot dear?—Syracuse Poets