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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1904-6-23, Page 6. Neekl-atetwtc-teFax4e.Kimmemeww The Ticket -of - Leave Man tieteleteiSKIMMesietenleiaatereei "Sam Pettit, my boy, yoU're ia luck," seri old man 'with white hair, close roped, bent over a grimy news - Willer; a elay pipe with bowl turned .doavn hung put of his month, and a tug of fiat beer stood at his elbow. BSTIIER WRITE.—Wanted, More Mation as to the whereabouts of •Esther White, daughter of Geotery Tarrant White, and his wife, Glady• s White, formerly Renshaw. A • lieeree reward will be paide—llell and Bull, Solicitors, Old Jewry, B.C. • "And to think that Geoffry Tar- ratt White and me should come out O2 our tieketeoe-leave on the same day just a month ago, anthree days after he should die in my aems. What was it lie said? 'Pettit, my boy. I'm a-goine Promise me,' he Rays, 'that you'll go to my daughter Esther an' ask her to forgive me.' Ler', fancy asking to be forgiven by -our own kid. 'She was a little mite of five when I was took,' he says, so she must be about twenty • now. Well, dooty is dooty, an' a. promise is a promise, an' I've got Esther White's address, an.' Bell and Bull are going to give ,me a, liberal reward for it Ile finished tho beer • with much gusto, aud after carefully brushing a battered silk hat he left his lodg- ings with a jaunty air born of new- ly -found freedom. He made his way to Old Jewry and soon found the offices of Messrs. Bell and Bull, where he demanded to see one of the partners. "What name, sir?" demanded the clerk, eyeing him suspiciously. For a znoment he hesitated; then a strange inspiration seized him. "White -0 eary Tarrant 'White." The. mention of the mime was suffi- cient, The clerk disa.ppeared ith alacrity, and soon returned to weer Sam Pettit into the presence et Mr. "Good morning, sir, good morn- ing." chirped Mr. Pettit, affably, "rake a seat, please," seil Mr. Bell, shortly. "You have come about—" "This advertisement, sir, ter the whereabouts of Esther White, mY daughter, sir; an' if a man don't 'crow the whereabouts of i is own daughter and ain't concerned ni the hapriness of his child "Yon will understand, Mr. White, that the advertisement refers exclu- sively to your daughter, and my client has not the slightest wish to have anything to do with you." "That's all very well, an' very high an' raighty, but I've got to know what the advertisement means and whether any harm is intended to my girl, an' until I do know 1 keeps her whereabouts to myself." "Nothing but good is intended for your daughter, I can assure you. Of the misery you have caused other people by your past life I will say nothing. Your 01V11 conscience, I hope, will be sufficient. But I trust .that the future of your daughter will In some way recompense her for the hard life which, I fear, has been her lot/' "Recompense her—how?" "When James Renshaw, your late wife's father, died, some three months ago, all his estate passed to Paul Renshaw, a distant relative, now in his thirtieth year. On. his death -bed James Renshaw made Paul promise that he would find Esther White and make ample provision for her future." "Aur that's what the advertise- ment means. My daughter is to be took from me, an' I can starve in the glitter. Look what she says in her last letter to me, written a week afore I came out." Sam Pettit took a, crumpled letter from his pocket and straightened it out. " 'Dear Father'—there, do you hear that? 'Dear Father,—I understand that you are shortly to be released. I promised mother before she died that I would have a. home reaay for you to come to. I have kept my word. I enclose the money for your fare, and hope you will lose no time an coming here.—E.W.' Therewhat dc; you think of that'?" "Poor girl; poor girl!" "An' do you thitik I'm going to give up a comfortable home an be turned out like a clog? No fear; I keep her address to myself.'e "And have you seen her since you came out?" "Well—er—you see—coning to Lone don with a little money—er—tvell— you know." "And you have no money left ? Well, Mr, White, I will do this. Give lne the address and I will hand you ten pounds. That will enable you to go to your daughter, 1 ha-ve no VASIL to keep you from her; I only wish to Impress upon you that her future will be one of comparative affluence, which: you must not reckon upon sharing." "Oh! I know an old ticket-o'leave man can only count upon being kick- ed from pillar to post. I'll take the money; and here's the address.," He wrote the address on a sheet of paper and pocketed the money. "Af., ter carefully polishing his hat on a greasy sleeve, he bade Mr, Bell good morning and averted. Once (Mt - side the door, however, he turned' round with a chuckle, and placing his thumb to his nose he spread the ftngers out, 'Spoofed; sold; done brown. Sam 'Pettit, you're in hack; end now for Mancheeter an' my dear daughter Bather." Gay Street, Maneheater, somewhat belied its name. It was a dreary - looking elm() enough, and the horime it contained Were often-deeerier still, but it Was cheap, and at •ell mate Un the caSe of No, 11, it was clean. Esther 'White bent oVer her sewing but every now and then elle raised her head and listened eXpeetantiy. A cheerful lire was burning in the grate and the table was prepared for a Medi - At that instant a body lurche against the front door, and th knocker fell with a single Ulna!, With a look of apprehension Upon, her face Esther rose and. opened the door. A. smell of etalo whiskey en- tered the house, followed almost, lax - Mediately by Sam Pettit. "Well, Esther, nay gal, here I am at last. Got tired, o' waitire for me, did yer?" "I certainly expected you many weeks ago. I asked you to come here as soon as—" • "Say it, my gal, say it. As soma as I came out of quod. Well, here I am, so come an' give us a kiss." Instinetively she drew back. "Whatl afraid of yer old dad; asot Used to him yet—eh? Well, let it pass an' bring on some grub, en' then l've got nova to tell yer," Shoplaced food before him and sat almost in silence while he ate. She was keeping her .proniise to her dead mother, but she could not repel a reeling of aversion as she contemplat- ed the man before her. yer seem to have grown pretty, well -set-up sort of girl, r tiler, and you'refairly corafortabl here. A credit to yer mother an me. Did yer mother ever • mentio James.11enshaw?" "James Renshaw was my mother's brother, and lived at Dennystown Cross in Surrey, I understand he died some months ago." "And Paul Renshaw?" "1 do not know him." "Well, you jolly •soon will, be- cause I expect him here any day, anT hour, any raiuntes" 'Here! Why? "Because, your mother's brother. did the right thing at the Met min- ute, and told Paul Renshaw, his heir, to provide for us handsomely— for as, do yer 'ear, for 1110 and you." "How do you know this?" "Seen it in the paper; see 'ere, there 'tis—Bell and Bull. I've in- terviewed 'em, an' they paid me ten pounds on account, an' now go an' have a doss; I'm tired. They may be here to -morrow, an if 'they want to take you away from me, eh.? Esther ,my gal, I'm an old man, "Do not fear, I shall Iceop my promise to ray mother." "Good gal, good gal; always obey your mother.' And Sam. Pettit retired to a com- fortable bed, chuckling to himself. To 'Esther White the next two days passed almost like a nightmare. In her occupation as milliner she had to absent herself from the house for several hours every day, and Sara Pettit filled in his time by get- ting as intoxicated as his means would permit. On the third day, however, when Esther arrived home she found her supposed father in conversation with a stranger. "Ere she is; this ismy gal, my dear daughter Esther. Esther, my dear, this is Mr. Paul Renshaw, him as advertised for us." "Pardon me, my ledvertisement was for Miss White and made no refer- ence to you. I am sorry, Miss White, that I have been. so long in tracing you, but we could not find any clue to your whereabouts." "Why should you wish to, Mr. Ren- shaw? My father has told me some rambling story. but I cannot under- stand it." "I can soon explain. it. When your uncle, James Renshaw, was dying, he asked, me to seek you out and provide for your future, Now that I have found you I ask you to make arrangements to come to Dennystown. Cross ana take up your abode there." "And what of me—tyliat of me ?" demanded Sam Pettit. "I have nothing whatever to do with you, sir; my interest is entirely concerned with Miss White. "An' what of her promise to her mother to provide me with a horae, eli?" "1 a.m sorry, Mr. Renshaw, but I cannot do as you ask. As nay fath- er says, I promised mother to look after him, and I must do it." And nothing Paul Renshaw could say would move her from her resolu- tion. She would gladly have given up her hard struggle for existence and accepted his proffered friendship, but the memory. of her promise made this impossible. Finding that words would not prevail, he accepted the situation. "Well if you are aeterminea to 'keep your promise—and believe me I' honor you for it—you must bring your father down with you. I shall have a cottage vacant in a few weeks, and meanwhile you will ,lee my guests at Dennystown Manor." And to Sam Pettit's delight it was arranged that, they should go to Den- nystown Cross 011 the following Sat - Paul Renshaw did nothing by lialves,'an.d when Sam,,Pettit brought Esther to the inanor at the time apppinted the ex -convict presented the appearance of an exceedingly well-dressed and highly respectable old gentleman. Sam, Pettit had .not been at Denny- stown Manor twenty-four hours be- fore he became firmly convinced tbat Paul Renshaw was rapidly losing his heart to Esther 'White. "An' you must egg 'em on, 'Sam, my boy, an' if Esther once marries Renshaw, you've made a nice, downy bedfor life." And in two or three clays it be- canae very evident to everybody that Sant Petit had ,anade no mistake in his surmise. Patel Renshaw was very much in love with his pretty guest, ancl Esther seemed in no way averse) to his attentions., It sonaetimes happened that Stun was too unwell to appear at ainnee, and upon, such occasions he would betake himself to e cosy Spot in the garden and indulge in an open-air cure, with a bottle bulging hie pock- et. There it Was that one day he awoke froi a aornewhat heavy siottat with the soutid of voices in his ears, and he realized that Petal a11d Fiether Were standing on the other side of the hedge. "Lister to me, Esther. There is no affection bettveee you mad yew father and I do not see liceW there pessibly Can be. He is drunk from, meriting till night, and there is nettling to love in hina, It would, d be far better for him tO go away., e and so lotag as he etaered • wetter woulct allow hole two handred a year." "No, Paul; :r cannot do it, De- praved and degraded though he may be, he is my father, and 1 promised 131)r"Auni°dtiel'eelt—yo'n. cannot prrimiSe rue. All, my love is to go for •naught. Let him stay here mad live M the cottage, but give me the one wish of Zny life. You say that you love me, and—" "Yes, Paul, I do love you, but while my father is alive I cannot marry you; it would simply drag you down and embitter our lives. It would be far better If I went away A • "A nice, ilootiful 'daughter, an' ao mistake. Refusiug ten thousand a year because I'm alive," murmured Sam Pettit, as the voices died away in the distance. "I'll teach her to- night." • On the following day Paul Ren- a sha,w went up to Loudon on busi- s- ness, and Pettit found his opportun- e ity. ' "Look 'ere, ray gal, you ain't play - n ing me fair, an', understand me, I ain't going ter 'eve it." "Wnat do you n1ean?'1 ask -ed Es- . th`e`jel''That do I mean? Why, this : heard Paul Renshaw offer to make you his wife, an' you was fool enough to blight my prospects by refusing him, an' I won't 'ave it. Do you hear? After yer promise to yer mother, too. Disgraceful, I call it. An' wantin' to pay me two hundred a year to clear out— not much. I'm going to stay 'ere, an' you've got to marry Paul Ren- shaw!" Esther faced him, quiet, but deter- mined. "Listen to me, please, before you presume to dictate and bully. Until the last few weeks I have known practically nothing about yeti. Dur- ing the time you were away my mother seldom mentioned your name, bnt when she did it was only to recall your good qualities. When She died and I prepared a home for you I hoped to meet a father whom I could respect, if not love. I had been taught to look upon you as one who was more sinned against than sinner. Of my dlernpointment I shall- say nothing, bia I want you to understand distinctly that I am not going to drag Paul Renshaw's name in the mire by presenting him with you for a relation." That same evening Esther found her supposed father in the library. His coat was lying on the floor, and he lay back in his shirt-deeves sleeping heavily. Full of disgust she picked the coat up with the inten- tion of rousing him, and as she did so sonte papers fell out of the pock- et. She glanced at them carelessly, but one document arrested her attention. It was a ticket -of -leave made out in the name of Samuel Pettit. Like a -flash the suspicion darted through her brain. Was this man her father ? Stepping behind the chair she bent towards him. "Samuel Pettit!" " With a hoarse cry the man sprang from his chair and glared about him." -Yes—yes., Who called me?" "I aid." "You—you? What ao you mean?" 1 "I mean that you are an imposter; you are not my father, but Satnuel iPeeatvteit., and here is your ticket -of - "You are making a 'mistake. I—" "Oh, it is useless to deny it: I lowaseeteeeeweeeeseses About the ....House SOMT1 GOOD RECIPES. Strawberry Shrub.—Ome pint of strawberry juice, juice of one lemon, one cupful sugar. Set on ice until wanted; then turn into thin glasses, having them half full; 1111 one quarter more with seltzer water; then place whipped 'cream on top. Strawberry Dumplings.—Take the same recipe as for 'short cake, but roll into a sheet aboat a eixteenth of an inch thick; cut into rounds; put five large berries in center; fold the kr:OLIO over and wet with white of egg; then roll between palms of hands until the opening is effaced; set ia greased tin; brush with milk and bake in Epic% oven for fifteen minutes. Serve with strawberry sauce. Stepanof was forced to appeal fo Buckwheat Cakes are greatly All saucepans and kettles should proved by the addition of Indian in Protection to the committee of thre section. One of them begged. the peo be turned upside down when not meal. The followitig i$ an excellent utlsee.ovLerettitheecsIgaoticeopfaintspzsteifettoa rule: , One and one-half cups acl- whnat, •11, cup Indian meal, 1 cup mit ear. sweet milk, 1 cup water, 2 heaping When the hands have become soft teakkions baking powder, 1 seltspoon and shrunken by using. soda and hot salt. These cakes may be stirred up and fried at once upon a hot griddle. No yeast is Deeded, Totlfee.-Place three OtnaCCO 01 ter in a brass preserving pan and as 50011 as it Is melted add one poinfd of brown sugar, Stir this gently over a moderate fire for a quarter of an how, Or 411t11 a bit of it, cirOpped Into cold water, is brittle. Directly the toffee is boiled to this point it meet be poured oft, or it will be spoilt, It is art improverneet to add a little greted lemon rind wheat the toffee is half done, - rxm.ranair, If the hands are rubbed on a stieli et celery after peeling °Molts the smell will be entirely removed. Tubs will not warp ox crack open if the precaution is taken to put a Pail of Water into eaeli directly aetee use. Half au hour once a, Wok should be lsiPaennclts iiitlremtaoulehuartimtlgatitivelill-actuilsedif tho ap- pearance. Save all the egg. shells, and when broken up finely they, will be formal useful for removing stains, etc., from enemelled saucepans. 7.1 REAL RUSSIA OF TONDAY THE TALE QF A WITS B1,0 OD r HAN*D$, How the 1VIernbers of the Congress of Technical Instruetion Punished Him. Tho Friends of Russian l'ereedone of which Hon. Dudley Foulke is Pr0Si- dent, send out the following authente. catecl storiee of the real Russia of to-day:— An exciting inciclent.happened at the Congress of Team ica 1 lest euction lately held in St. Petersburg, Two of its mem.bers were Messrs. eltepan.of and Pronine, whose tirmavory part ie. the Kisbinea massacre bad been brought out et the trial. At a meet- ing of one of the sections of the Con- gress, Stepanof rose tie speak. 'rho President refused to give •him the floor, saying, "A man with blood on his hands has no right to soak in this inee ling..' Great excitemen t fol- lowed. Pronirte slipped out, but water, rub them with. common salt, and it will help to make -ill: em smooth again. Chloride of slioula be used Nut Pates—Mix to a smooth paste with sweet milk, 2 cups peanuts gut !abmt the House all the summer, teed through a nut grinder, 1 tablespoon :in the out -buildings also. It will butter, 1 beaten egg, * teaspoon each ;drive rats from the celar at any time of salt and mushroom catsup. rill of the year. pate shapes (previously baked empty) I Buttermilk is excellent for cleaning with the mixture and brown in a sponges. Steep the sponge in milk quick oven. Serve at once. for some hours, then squeeze -it out, and wash it in cold. tv,ater. Lemon nanana Cream—Whip half a ,pint of doable cream "until stiff, and then stir juice is also good. .For biliousness the first thing to do is to get rid of tho excess of waste material in the blood. For this purpose nothing is better than a Seid- litz powder taken before breaVast. During hot weather • dishelothes and kitchen cloths are apt to turn sour and smell disagreeably-. A few drops of ammorda in the rinsing water will a,et like magic in sweeteeing them. When choosing a carpet for a small room always select a small pattern, or Wain colors. See that the wall paoer tones with the carpet, and the room will seem bigger than it really is. Turpentke mixed with linseed oil in the proportion of two parts of oil to one of turpentine makes- a most excellent for furniture. Apply very little of this to the surface, and two lemons; let it boil for ten min- polish with plenty of clean cloths, utes, then pour it over about 1 lb. - To clean the coffee pot fill it with water, put in a eitacli of borax and a of s.kinned ancl quartered bananas. Leave M a warm place for tee. min- ['Piece of hard soap, and set an the utes; then lift out the bananas and !stove, leaving it boil for hail an hour. et will be as bright as new place them in a glass. dish. boil up' the syrup until very thick and . pour it over the beetanes, Serve with whipped cream, Macaroni Cheese.—Make half a pint of good white sauce with half an into it half an ounce of gelatine die - solved in half a gill of warm water, a, little lemon juice, and 'rt.. of skin- ned bananas rubbed through a hair sieve with 2 ozs. of caster sugar. Put the mixture into a mould, and leave it in a cold place until wt. To rnake parsley and butter sauce. Get a nice bunch of parsley; wash it thoroughly, squeeze very dizain cloth, and chop finely. Dissolve half an ounce of flour, pepPer and salt. Stir both together; take the pan ofl the fire, and add slowly half a pint of cold water. Stir till. all boils and leaves the sides of the pan; add the chopped parsley, beat all together., and. serve. . Compote of Bananas.—Make a syrup with 1 lb. of loaf 'sugar, half a pint of water, and the strained juice of and should be submitted to this treatment frequently. - For a sha.mpoo mixture. Dissolve two tablespoonfuls of pure soft soap (bought of a chemist) in half a pint ounce of butter, half an ounce of flour of hot water. When cold, Add the and half a pint of milk, into this stir juiee of ono lumen and a few drops of essence of lavender. Keep this • three tablespoonfuls of grated Panne - tightly corked for use. san cheese, cay•ene and salt. Boil three ounces of macaroni in salted To wash windows easily .add a few water with an onion; when it is ten- dr ops of kerosene or paraffin to some der drain and stir into the sauce. clean hot water (as hot as can be used). The keroeene evaporates, car - Place ell in a greased pie -dish or scale rying the moisttire with it, and the op shells, cover with grated cheese and brown in the oven. Banana; Trifle—Lay ozs. of mac- aroons and 2 ozs. of rataflas in a eep glass dish; cut a sponge cake nto slices and spread these witli hen- na pule; place them on the niacar- ons and soak with a little sherry ncl brandy; pour over the whole a Int of Cream. to taste, flavor with vanilla and a teaspoonful of brandy, then whip it, till stiff; pile on the top of the trifle, and decorate with cry- stallized fruits and blanched and shredded almonds. a have felt all along that you could o be no relation of mine, and here I a have proof." Sam Pettit in his fuddled state felt that the game was up. "And—and what are you going to clo?" "Hand you over to the police if you are not away from here in. half an hour.' The mention of police was quite enough for Sam and he gave in at once. "I'll go; I've played the game an' lost. I—I can take my few clothes, I suppose?" She nodded, and he left the room, leaving her gazing into space, a prey to conflicting emotions. For some hours she sat almost without mov- ing; then came a con»n.otion. in the hall and the old butler burst into the room. "Oli, miss, master has boon robb- ed. The safe in his room is broken. open and the jewel -case has gone." With a cry of horror she sprang to her feet with the name of Sam Pettit on her lips. Then she re- membered that no one knew of the imposture. "My—father--where is he?" "He left for London two hours ago, miss; said he was going to join master. Crooks drove him to the station, miss." "Send for the police and have a conveyance round. I can catch the 10.30. I must see Mr. Renshaw to- night." All was bustle and commotion, the servants ran hither and thither, and in a few minutes Esther was on her way to the station. The sole idea in her mind was to find Sam Pettit and make 'him return the jewels. Where to look for him slie did not know, but she felt that once in Lon- don fortune would help her. She did not seek Paul Renshaw. In the fee° of this disaster she could not ntect him. She took lodgings at a quiet hotel, and on the follow- ing day the commenced lier search. Frer two days her efforts were un- availing, but on the third day, when, weary and heart -sick, she was wending her way to the hotel, she met him face to face. "Samuel Pettit, -at last!" "Esther!" Like a hutted hare he looked up and down the street, es if oontem- plating flight, but tbe sight of a constable ie the vicinity made him change his tactiee. "`Yes, Sam Pcittit, I have found You at last. No, 'delft think to escape, or I, will give yell in charge." "Then—then—you don't mean harm to me?" "I want the jeavele eeni stole from care what becomes of you; but the jewels I must have." "Ala! if I could only get rid of them. Come with me; they ;are close at hand. I have not had a mom- ent's peace since I took them." Without fearing danger sho joyfully consented, and Sam Pettit led the way down a series of mean streets. Then stopping before a dismal -look- ing house he opened the door and bade her enter. He led her to a meanly -furnished roora an the first floor. Once inside he banged the door and turned the key in the lock. "And now, my gal, did you think riu could get the better of Sam Pettit? You little innocent. I'ne on my •way to the Continent to -night, but before I go I newt silence you for a few hours." He threw himself upon her and seized her wrists. She fought with superhuman eneegy-, but was no She was rapidly lolitnehe fosrtrelinigtrith, and with a loel scream she fel to the Roar. At that moment, the front (Icor was burst in with a crash and sever- al men. clashed up the stairs. In an instant the second door was forced, and Paul Renshaw, with two detec- tives, entered tho room. "Es they ! Esther I My a arlin g I " She fell into her lover's arms in a doad faint. Pettit, we have got you again," said one of the detectives. "'Sam. Pettit! I don't understand," said Paul; "this man is Gefry Tar- rant White," "Not much. Geoffry White died some months ago; this man is Sam • ziv'errites•tttistt,i L"' rewsiitglinedtilehitilnasneldfeutflo° an liJs itl fate, nd in a few ruoments Esther recov- e""dtr..11./t111( IT0I1V011 we were in time, darling. It is fortunate that we were ehadowirg this man, and tree- ed"Thiriet tojeeh-leslsdetile" here,' Mr. Ren- e ;thaw," said one of the men. , "I care nothing for those; my jewel is hero, Nay, doit't speak just yet, clarlieg; have hoard all. Your father is; dead, and there is now no bar to our marriage. Henceforth I shall deVote my life to make your days a dream of happiness, lea.ving the law to deal with this ticket -o'-. tfr, Itenshaw; after that I don't leeVe Mae- —tendon Tit -Bite, glass is cleansed with half the usual trouble and loogs brighter. When cleaning a room in the ordin- ary. way don't forget that the pic- tures need dusting at the back and edges. Dusty rims round ornaments proclaim a careless housekeeper.. The best plan is to have the first duster slightly damp, and finish off with a dry one. Wring out the -dueler in a bucket of warm. water veanstantly, CLEANING FE.A.THERS. Owing to the frequency with which it is turned over to the professional cleaner, a white' or pale -tinted plume becomes something of a luxury. If the feminine contingent only rea- lized how easily these pretty orna.- ments can be cleaned at horne, guite a little saving toward the end of the year would result. Nothing more difficult to obtain than soap and clean' water is neces- sary to clean an ostrich tip in a thor- oughly scientific fashion. If the work is carefully done, the plume will stand an infinite number of "shampooings" without showing tbe least signs of wear, Here is the simple process: Melte 8, lather with warm water and a good white soap. Fill a bowl with this and dip the plume into it. When it is thoroughly statuvated draw 'the tip through' the fingers. Repeat a number of times if the feather is 'Mich soiled. Now rinse thoroughly in clear wa- ter, making sure...that no 'vestige of soap remains. Put on a white ap- ron or co.-er the •knees with a 015,0 towel end gently pat the.plume with the hands entil dry. Curl with a blunt knife. Or steam the plume over the hot water kettle and clry out in the beat of the stove, when it will of its own accord attain a certain 'degree of fluf- finess. • , COULD BE SEEN. The scarcity of servant girls led Airs. Vaughan to &gage a farmer's daughter from a rUral diatrict of Ire- land. Her want of familiarity with town. ways and language has led to many ,amusing scenes. One afternoon a lady called at the Vaughan residence, and rang the bell, Kathleen answered the call. "Can Mrs. Vaughan be seen?" the visitor asked. "Cali she be seen'?" sniggered Kath- leen. "Shure, and 01 think slie can; she's six feet hoigh, and four feet tvoidel CEM She be seen? 8orrali a' bit of anything ilSe cam ye see whin she's abolit." NO DIFFICULTY. "Ali mel'' eacl aimed II ex dtippe , "It's hard to be eeor." • Noesense ! " replied Sin s.1 ck. " fitid it the easiest thing in the world ee pie to refrain from violence. The audience let Steeanof depart un- harmed, but they formed two rowe, leaving a narrow path. through which they made hien pass, amid shouts of "Murderer! Coward!. 'Illoody-handal", etc., which -followed him CLE'AR TO THE DOOR. In consequence this Congress( with." thirteen mections and 2,7100 inembera) Was immediately dissolved by the St. Petersburg authorities. At the University of MOscow, a meeting of 750 students latelypassed resolutions protesting against the war, and against the arbitary acts of the Russian Government at home. rrnte were only about forty dissenti- e, Prof. Iastiopolsker of the Technolo- gical Institute ar Kharkof lias been dismissed froni his professorship and arrested as a, criminal for having lec- tured to his students on the eggres- sive character of Russia's policy In the far east. The professor is Much ' beloved by his students, 400 of whom held a meeting and passed a unanim- ous resolution of protest. The Tecb.- nological Institute has been closed mut fifteen students arrested. Since the breaking out of the war, collisions have grown more frequent Iii Russian prisons between the politi- cal prisoners and the prison authori- ties. A. correspondent of La Tribune Russe, writing from Kovno, says that in order 'to exasperate the male pris- oners, the women aro made the ob- jects of special persecution. MISS VERA SPL'RANSKY, a political prisoner, had been syste- matically annoyed by one of the un- der -inspectors. She was recently take en ill, and sent for the prison mat- ron. The under -inspector came in- stead. Miss Sporansky, .complained- ' to the head jailer of his entrusion. The next morning the sante under -inspec- tor came into her cell unexpectedly while she was dressing, and she threw water over him. For tbis she was imprisoned five days and nights in a dark cellar, at a season when the itt thermometer was twenty-five degrees below zero. The political prisoners protested by a "hunger strikena" ro- fus:ng all food. One of them, Garn- itsky, was found on the third day unconscious on the floor. The ordin- ary prisoners found out what was going on among the "politicals," and joined in demanding that Miss Sper- ansky should be restored to her cell. As they got, no answer, they raised a riot, broke the widow s and their chairs, .and filled tho prison with shouts of "Down with injustice!" The soldiers were sent for, tho rioters were put in the prison cellar, and Miss .Speransky was taken from'. it and placed in the infirmary. She is seriously ill.. Garnitsky, who was found unconscious on tbe floor, was punished for lia.ving "protested most energetically." • , DOUBTFUL COMPLIMENT. First Artist—"I received a magnifi- emit tribute to my skill the other day at tbe, exhibition." , Second Artist—"Indeed, what was it'?" First Artist—."You know the pie-. turn, 'A. Storm at Sea"? Well, a man and his wife were viewing it, and I overheard the fellow say, !Come away' 31137 dear; that, picture makes me sick., a Slic—"Wbat if I have loved an- other, dear? Don't you know it has only prepared me fer the greater, higher love I have for you?" "That's all right, but how do I know that the love you now have for me isn't preparing you for a greater, higher love for someone else?" "Did you see Mrs. Jinkles's new vase, nand?" said Mamie. "Yera Isn't it perfectly horrid?" ,a don't know yet. I have not found out whether it is modern and perfectly horrid, or antique and perfectly lova- IY " Famous 'Violinist (after his great moio)—"Ilo you play any instrument Fraule:n?'' Dliss Etbel---`'NO: mY mother alaraye said that her children should not be a nuisance to anyone if ahe could help it." am going to marry your daugh- ter, sir," said the positive young man. "Wo11, you don't need to come to me for sympathy," replied the free ther; "I have trouble enough of toy, own." Huggard at a distance when 'wn. /no i'lVfarnme, told me I mttet ItefP Uri eaid Niles 'Coy. "Ae di you?" asked tilts Mequeery. 1. succeeded tzi heaping hire at a die' tame from the other glile." Mother—That note paper te certain - )y very quaint, but are you I a faqiioriable? Datightets 1th, It non), heit's alutost irejA4selble to write On le,