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The Exeter Times, 1888-7-26, Page 6LIKE AND AUTHOR:Or UNLIKE. Bv 11. E. BRADDONI " Lein Atneeey's aeonem," Wrx,LAR.D's W RD," BTC., Em at a pee() that wee &Imola/ a Vote. Isfe Wanted to be fee° to face with his fan wife—to surprise her by the BOdderilless of hisoom to stand before her without a moments' warning strong in lab knowledge of her guilt Tbat WAS the one paesionate foraying of his minds the otle hope for whiole he ex, isted at that moment After that, there would be soother meeting, between bun and $t. •Austell, a meeting whieh must end in lolood. Yes, straight before him in the neer CHAPTER KaaVIL—Aat INainisiten " Whate your bet, Mr. Belfield, if its not dieteeme be saw baavitable bloodshed. Igo an impertinent question r aelted the man modern vengeance beaten out inch by both Liman. this as good leaf under the iold-beater's gr. ia.16.e1a sat brooding during the rest " it was, wouldn't mind it from you, haraMer ; no thirty day soenda in the law oit the journey to Ring's CrOanx and hie Jones" answered Valentine. "I've laid courts with all its pettiness of foul deteila thoughta gran' darker with the darkening two to ope that Ravioli fetehed over two and lying and counter lying of hireling ; might Yes, S. Austell had haunted hie hundred." wife's footsteps all through the season that "1 think you're pretty safe, Six. 1reMem- waS past. He had heard of them riding in ber the horse. He was one of Captain Pea - the Row, it was St. Aastell who had tthosen Helen's borse at Tattersall's, ana, who bad been officiously obliging in attending the sale and getting the animal for a price that seemed SMIOSt ridiculously at variance with its quality. Rd could recall the whole transaction : how in St Austell's presence one evening, after %little dinner in Ars. Beddeleyeroonni, Helen had entreated him to buy her a horse, -urging that it was odious to ride hired aminuals, smelling of the livery stables, and suggestive of a riding master in botcher boots; how he had declared he couldn't :afford to buy; and how St. Austell had told bliu that it would. be a more economical *rearmament than hiring, and had suggested that a good horse might be got for a very rade money now that the huuting was all over. "What do you call a little mousy?" Valentine had asked, annoyed. at his wife's pm:Oaten:le, and at St. Austell's inter• :store:me. at Well, I suppose you might pick up a good Park hack for ninety or a hundred." "Nearly twice as much as Iahould like to segive," answered Valentine, curtly. a' How much would you give it there were sem opportunity? I am at Tattersall's nearly every day, and I would be on the look out • If I knew what you wanted." "I don't want anything. There eve plenty of horses in Devonshire that my wife and I aan ride when we're there." "Bat Devonshire isn't the Park, Val," /pleaded Helen. "1 want a horse for the Park,• awfully," whereupon Mr. Belaeld shrugged his shoulders, and said he would give fifty or sixty guinees for a hack, rather hau be bothered; and with this ungracious permission hie wife was fain to be content. Three days after this conversation, Valen- tine found Lord St. Austell's groom waiting in front of Wilkie Mansions with a thor- oughbred bay horse, which he was gently of an hour while the fly was being got ready. deeding up and down the road. He stood in the bar, drinking his brandy "His Lardship's compliments, and this b and. soda, and. talking to the landlady, a •be horse he has bought for you, sir," said large and blooming matron of theDevonshire the man, Ravioli, grandson te Masa' j dumpling order of beauty, whom he had . ! known from his childhood. Valentine looked the animal over :mita "1 never thought to have the pleasure of not for lam the modern husband's mode of retribetion, but ewift sharp yengeance, such as one reads of in old Italian chronic:lee, pingey's lot, and they were all goo tine, Vengeance as epode' and sudden, if not as VII turn up tbe catalogue in a minute. April secret, as those dealiegs between man and 7th, 10th, 14th, yes, here they are, henters, man which made the glory of Venice in the park haoltrit, team a coach horses." good old days of the Caunal of Ten, when de ran hie finger down the pages of a °eta- every seducer went with his life in his hand, logue, his practised eye following the figures Ana knew not whether the sun that rose with amazing rapidity. Thetprnes realized upon bis guilty pleasure might not set upon by the horses were watten in the margin hie untimely grave in the Canal yonder, and beside the lot eumbers, and the names of the when every false wife had a daily expects, purohasers on the other tilde of the page, • tion of poison in the domestic wine oup, or ‘4 Ravioli, five years' old, thorough -bred, a dagger under the matrimonial pillow. has been hunted with the PYtobleY, carries Valentine Belfield had no uncertainty of a lady," he read, "Your money's safe, Ur- mind as to his manner of dealing with St. Belfield. 'Two hundred and seventy-eight Austell, They two would have to stand guineas. Lord St, Austell bought him." face to face upon SOM8 quiet, easily accessible "That's your ticket," answered Valentine spot in France or Belgium, where a brace "1ligbtiy thought I was pretty safe. Good- oi pistols would settle all scores. How he night, a thousand thanks.' was to deal with his wife was a more com- He had just time to catch an afternoon plex question, but for the moment hia aciaire train for the West of England, a 'bran was only to confront her and to vering the which left Waterloo late in the afternoon, acknowledgment of ' her guilt from thoae and which was due at Chadfordroad Sta. false lips. tion a little before midnight. It wee: a slow The house was dark for the most part, as train, and one by which he would only have he had expected to find it, but there were travelled in an emergency. • lights in the library windows, and in the He had telegraphed no announcement of windows ef his wife's rooms above the library. She was not at rest then, late asit his coming, either to his mother or hia wife. It was a pare of me plan to take Helen by was. Her guilty conscience woula not let surprise, and he was willing to hazard the her rest, perhaps. He knocked at the glees door in the lobby diffioulty of getting' into a house in which all the servants might have gone to bed be next the library, a door which stood open all day in fine weather, and by which his fore he could arrive. The chances were that Adrian would be in the library, where brother went in and out of the garden twenty it was his usual habit to sit reading long times a day, loving the old world garden after midnight. almost as he loved his booka. He heard Chadfordormed Station was nearly the library door open, and Adrian's footsteps five approaching, and then the shutter was taken miles from the Abbey, and Mr. Belfield was no humour for a long walk. The Station down and the door opened cautiously a little in Hotel, a decent inn, which could provide a "Who is there ?" .one-horse fly upon occasions, and which called itself a posting -house, was open, so " Valentine." he went in, ordered a brandy and soda, and "Valentine 1" cried Adrian, throwing a trap to take him to the Abbey. open the door, and holding out both his' The ostler and the flyman were lazy and hands to his brother, "this is indeed a sour - slow, and Mr. Belfield had to wait a quarter Prise. Why didn't you telegraph I Helen went to bed nearly three hours ago," "Her candles are still burning, anyhow," answered Valentine gloomily. "1 take it I shall find her awake, late as it is. Good night. We'll reaerve all our talk till the morning." "Won't you come into the library for ten minutes or so? All the servants are in bed, no doubt, but I might get you something, perhaps—wine, or brandy and water." "Not a thing. Good night." His strange manner mystified Adrian, and impressed him with a foreboding of trouble. Never had he seen so dreadful an expression in hia • brother's froe—the con- tracted brows, the rigid, bloodless lips, the fixed look of the haggard eyes, staring forward, as if intent upon some hideous vision. Adrian watched him aa he went up the little private staircase which led onlyto that one suite of rooms in the library wing. Watched, and felt inclined to follow him and yet held back, not liking to pry into his brother's secrets. Whet could that trouble be whicli had wrought 'such an evil influence upon Valentine. Moiaey troubles, perhaps—turf losses. Adrian had heard enough while he was in London to know that his brother was the associate of racing men, and it was easy enough to guess that he had involved himself in turf transactions. Yet there was that in his face which in- dicated stronger passions than money troubles should cause in any reasonable be- ing. But then, Valentine was apt to give way to unreasonable wrath against anything that came between him and his wishes. "It is nothing of any moment, perhaps," thought Adrain, " He will be in better temper to -morrow morning." He told himself this ; yet so intense was his sympathy with his brother, that he went back to the library treubled and agitated, with his heart beating violently. He tried to go ou with the book he had been reading when Valentine knocked at the door, but his thoughts were with his brother sal his brother's wife in the room above him. He found himself listening for their footsteps, for the sound of their voices, which reached him now and then, faintly audible in the stillness of the night. The oseement was open in the mullioned window yonder, and there may have been an open window in the room above, (TO 33E CONTINUED) sway. , "Is he sound ?'' he asked. "Yes, sir. His Lordship's vet. looked at him before the sale." "Well, he is very handsome; and if his manners are as good as his looks, his Lord- ship has made a good purchase." Valentine met St. Austell at his club next de.y, and gave him a cheque for fifty-seven guineas, at which sum the horse had been knocked down to him at Tattersall's. At such a price, the animal, if sound, was an unquestionable bargain. Valentine bad aridden him round the Row,, and had found his paces admirable, although he was obvi- ously over -weighted by anything above twelve stone. For a light weight like Helen the horse was perfection, • "The yard must have been asleep when you brought him," said Valentine. "Oh, I knew how to bide my time and watch my opportunity," answered St. Aus- tell, lightly.. "1 am very glad you're satis- ed with my choice." "Mors than satisfied, my dear fellow." So the :natter had ended. Mr. Belfield, lull ofhis own schemes, pleasures, and ex- soitements, had thoughtara more of the horse, except to remember that he had made a a sacrifice to his wife in buying hirn, and that she ought to be very grateful. . To -night, looking back at the past in the new light of awakened doubts, he shrewdly ,suspected that St. Austell had fooled him, .and that, under the pretence of getting a bargain at Tattersall's, he had presented the woman he admired with a horse that •had cost three times as much as her hus- band was willing to pay. And she had known the secret of the transaction, no doubt, and • they had laughed together at the husbande meanness, and at the ease with which he • had been hoodwinked. Valentine Belfield almost choked with rage at the idea of his own blindness. "To think that I should be deceived by any woman•—above all by my wife- --the wife I won as easily as a pair of • gloves—and by heaven, I thought she was AS much my own as my gloves or my hat -- -as faithful to rae as my favourite dog." Yet remembering how easily she had been won, how quickly :she had wavered in her •adelity to Adrian, he could scarcely wonder that she had faltered in her truth to him. • St. Austell was fascinating, a man of em- inently seductive manners, deeply read in that modern literature which women appro. • oiate, distinctly a man to please women-- • while he, Valentine, was a sportsman, oar- -ing very little for women's society, • and • making no sacrifices to please them, despis- ing them rather as.a lower order of beluga whose nature it was to be suppliants and adorems a the master epirit, man. Re had never thought of his wife's love for hiin as a measurable quantity, which he might ex- haust. "She has been a fool, and she has been a .coquette," he said to himself, as the train steamed past the shabby streets and guilt windows of northetn London, "bub I don't ;believe she has been anything worse. It will be my business to drive her with a • tighter rein in future. You have been • allowed to go too,free, my pet. It must be moth instead of snaffle, hencefotward." Re had business in London which must needs be dew before he could look after his • wife. Postcard's defeat meant loges which amounted almost to finencial ruin. Money would have to be raised, end at a sacrifice. He could not bring himself to appeal to his sr:other for help in a turf diffiettity ; firstly because she had beet very generous to hien already,and secondly because there were ‘Other diffioultio, other debta imminent, for which he would be obliged to ask her aSSiSt. gat100. lander theft oirownetancee he went to a Jew money -Wilder, and involved himself • deeply in order to raise money against set- tling day. hem the money -lender's dace tie Went to Tattersall's where he was almoat as well-known as Lord St, Austell. He saw one of the chief clerks a man eilth whom he faed beat CU amu1Lat tetMa ever sbace he had been a frequenter of the &moils auction !yard. "here Was a horse sold here lad April," he said, "a thoreuglalred bay, grandeon �f INIMarona / want very inuat to know at 'what figure that hotese was knoeked down. rete got is bet Opeta it." wetting upon you to -night, Mr. Belfield, she said. "But I always wait up for this train and send the girls to bed. • And yet rns always the first up of a morning. I've been expecting yon down at the Abbey, too, for I saw Dim Belfield driving with ber ladyship the other day, as pretty as ever, but looking rather pale and out of sorts, I thought. "Yes, she ia not over well. She is down here for her health. " To be sure, sir. The London season does take a deal out of a lady," replied the .inkeeper's wife, shaking her head, and with an air of knowing town dissipations by heart. "There's been one of your friends stopping at Chadford for the last few days, Mr. Belfisld ; but he hasn't brought any horses this time, and not even so much as a body servant. He came into the place as quiet as any commercial." "Indeed 1 Who's that ?" "Lord St. Austell. My master saw him yesterday evening sauntering by the river, just outside the Lamb gardens, and he heard afterwards that his lordship had been atop. ping at the Lamb for the last three days, which, considering that thereenosport except salmon fishing at this time of year, and that ths cooking at the Lamb is about as bad as it can be, puzzled me stud my husband as to what attraction a gentleman like Lord St. Austell could find here." "Oh, there is always sport for a true sportsman," answered Valentine, lightly. " Well, as you say, sir, itmay be the sal- mon, and that would account for his not bringing any. horses." " Ah, there's the fly; goodnight, Mrs. Crump," and Valentine jumped into the lumbering old landau, and was jolted along the road to Chadford. He looked up at the Lamb as he passed. Yes, there were lights in the windows of the sitting room faxing the bridge, the rooms that St. Austell and Beeohing had occupied three years ago. Hia wife's lover was there. Her lover! He had no doubt as to their guilty love, now. That revelation about the horse was damning proof of St. Austell's perfidy, even if it left Helen's con- duct still doubtful. To Valentine it seemed that they were leagued against him, and that they had laughed at hia blindness, at him, the man who prided himself upon bis knowledge of home flesh, and who had been fooled and duped so easily. Nor ivas this all. He looked back and remembered many incidents, looks, worde, arrivals and de- pagtures, meetings that had seemed acci- dental, circumstances of all kinds, trilling enough in themselves, yet Sipa and tokens of seoret guilt. He had been so certain of his wife's allegiance, so scsoure, as to have been the very last to observe those indications which had been obvious to all the rest of the world. "11 I had known that all women were.— But no; there is one good woman in the world, my mother ; and I have grown up in the belief that all well-bred women were like her. I thought that it was in the nature of a well-born girl to be chaste and true. I ought to lhave known differttly. God knows I have heard :Modes 0 6-- but I thought that there e of demarcation, a gulf betwsab5iheep and the goats." He ground his teeth in an agony or rage, not more infuriated at the idee of his wife' fasehood than at the thought of hi own blind confidence, The hard worked old horse waif rattling along the read at a good pace, eager to get his busineaa done and. go back to his stable, but to Valentine's lin, patience it :seined as if he were crawling. Atlaet the tly stopped short., and the driver got down to open the gates leading into the avenue. The gates were rarely locked at night The lodge windows were dark. 13efore they were half way clown the avenue, Valentine called to the man to etop, and got out white he was pulling up hiahorae. I'll Walk the nett of the way," he said, givingthe inan a shilling Out of the loose di iver n his pocket. " Goodnight," " Goodnight, air, and thanked," mid the herse-of-all-work turned and cantered gaily homeward, while the driver thought Whet M is pleasant man r. Ballad wae, and Whitt a cheery' acmes and mmumt he had. Mr. &Meld was walking down the avents ISEOUSEECOLD. What For? Does atlY one g,lettarealiee hew largely the teaoher holdtee life of his pupila in his hnkattaren nd ?Thday h h atafo rseis ix hu 0 occupied nopuiteonf tinhe twenty f himself into the young humans entrusted to his oare ? His work is not Simply that of conducting recitations, correcting errors, etal inverting knowleage of the branthee prescribed by the common. :whoa Jaws; le is the work of forming human a *Is ; of moulding lives, The true teaoher oan never rest satis0ed with good recite - tions simply; he feels that unless he can implant in hp pupils an interest in their work which shall outlive school life he falls greatly short of axe mark of his Iiigh °ail- ing. No does his duty. end here ; for, should he fail to instill into their young aotas some knowledge of the subtle laws and obligations which should control them, unless he teach them to work with a firm, deffiaite purpose for some settled object, of whets avail is all the knowledge for whioh they delve? His iufluence will be felt. He can not esompe it if he would. For good or ill his seal is on the lives before him for ever and ever. His province than is more extended than pareuts sometimes think it, Getting an education is getting made consequently the master workman musebe most deeply alive to the import- ance of putting into his wonderful strum tare thoee true principles, good resolves and lofty ideals, so necessary to the for, =Mon of a rounded, complete life. So, when we talk about getting made, how natural and fitting, the query "for what ?" After you have got your pupil made tiff the grammar may be pardoned), what is the good of him? "Cti Bono" is the creed of an intensely praotioa age, condensed and reduced to a catechism of one question. It is forceful and full ef pith. It restrains from undue and improb • able flights of fancy. It irritates while it convinces the good sense of the interrogated. A. sewing machine is constructed to per- form certain. work; and. faithfully does it multiply its stitches until appointed tasks are performed ; a boat is to carry burdens, and it is done; a printing press fulfils its mission, and conveys to na- tions and to individuals tacts and infor- mation concerning other nations and. indivi- duals. One can justify the making of any of these. Bat who can ever think with toler- ation of the construction of an infernal machine? Who be moved with admiration at sight of a great hulk of a steamer with no engine within to impart life and. illation to its ponderous wheels? How abhorrent tee one, how worse than useless the oths. . Now, when a teacher is making his pupil, why not confront him witn this massive question, "What for?" What is lae to be good for? If we may believe all we read of Socrates, he was wont to buttonhole the young Athenians and ply them with all manner of odd questions, making their answers bases for others still more mem- peoted, until, having given them sufficient food for refteetion, he would abruptly leave them feeling quite silly end confused. But he had. in view a true philosophy. Bet- ter for them to know where they stood, or, if on unstable foundations, to have them pulled from under and their feet set per- force on ground which they could maintain. Granted, teacher, that the boy under your care must live, from an inherent, felt, though indescribable necessity —it becomes your dutyto lead him to live for some special object. You will—if you are a true teacher—study carefully his oast of character and the bent of his na- tural inclinations, weighing also his peculier Mei, tastes ahd a,bilities. You should help to deoide for what calling he is best fitted and proceed to educate him towards that point. Doctor, lawyer, editor perhaps, mat- ters little what, i if be only excel n his line. Bat—this decided and worked for—is that alt? The farmer's wheat grows, for by the laws of its nature it must grow ; but it feeds many mouths. Tile river flows to the sea—it cannot help itaebut in its course it moistens many a Rad and cools the heated air, affords a home for numerous finny fain- ilies ; and withal, pleasee ear and eye by its musical murmur and graceful curves. So he must live by the means he emp oys; but for the nourishing, helping, pleasing of what? Of whom? Is anything, anybody, to be better for him? To help in solving these practical clams - dons, it will be well to remember that the weakere dependent on the stronger; that each generation is made largely by that whioh precedes Lt; that the millions of human creatures on this globe are netlike the smooth pebbles on the beaoh—eaoh se- parate and self-sufficient ; but Iike the iyy growing iabout the church door yonder, inse- parably ntertwined by tendrils of feeling, each branch depending on the other for sup. port, and all alike helpless if left quite to themselves. And, filially, that :according to all theories worth advancing, there is a Great Power who placed tis here, endowed us with certain powers for the development and use of which we are responsible. Then put the question to yourself in this way: When 1 have taught my boy to live for something, shall I teach him anything more? and what? Shall somebody be the better because of hiin? Will he further the advance of vice or virtue? Will he fill brains with potent ideas and hearts with generous impulses? or will he skive—as do so many—on the price of work which may be traced to drinking saloons and gambling hells for the tools which fashioned it 2 • George Washington lived, and his life meant to the world a great deal more than mere existence. So lived Abraham Lin, coln—not, we reluctantly admit—quite per. feat (so few are save you and me and our particular friends 1) but a wonderful bene- factor to oppressed and burdened humanity ; a man to thank God for.. Guttenberg did good. So did inventors of steam engines and the various machines so universally used and prized, So does the maker of a fine thought, the singer of a good hong, the pain- ter of is beautiful picture. So do all who were two years and fiee months without contribute in any way to the advancement any communication whatever with the mit. of m.ankoed, whether in the lino of me- chanics . or art; of social enlargement elide world. AS now, all kinds of rumors were circulated in Europe, and all were false. or relimous fredora. Shall any come to t Sir Samuel is therefore unable to see why say of youpeople that happy met gloomy vietve slamild predominate reispecting and wonted are Walking in Liget, strona la f works because he Stanleye situation. He will have much to faith, and full o suffer, as all those have who venture upon lives? That children are growing up to the unknown, but he has good °floors who be companions of "good then and the uat" can be truated with good men, and, above because he twee ? That in youtig men's all, a good :supply of eanratinition. He is hearts are springing Pure feelings and noble inipulses bemuse of hirn / Then thank Hem - well expetienoed in African travel and thorottglay ceptable �f extricating himself 'ten that you have been enabled to faccomp- hish that Which shall ever be to you well rom any difficulty. Probably some recent hostility in his rear has rendered it impom sPrinfa of Joy ePringing up in your inner able to send meesengera from hie Main °612"1"811688) oven the jol of knowing a body. Meanwhile he is doubtlese steadily ii°°4 wok done' Both You and hs may journeying his Way, With evearyhm delays, " I live," alla "hada' rise t'a meet the through binge and enormoue grate, over searching words "what for 2" Future gen coattail will never read in theee word moo:Maine ma hi dews foreste, to emerge at some future time upon Albert Nyanza, Yollt epitaph nor hl—'1 Re lived ; but What rpelliestrevtehein dabletrha htee6nvded forerirtEtnoffeathhe. e Eltit). Was the nee of him?" Thinks Stanley ie all Right. Writing concerning the various reports afloat about the expedition of Henry M. Stan- ley, the London correspondent of the New York Sun notes that the famous expinrer, Si - Samuel Baker, says that it would be a new feature in Central African travelling if Stan- ley's party of nearly 403 men could progress at a fixed rate per diens over untrodden ground, and arrive at Albert Nyanza at any approxi- mate period. The greater tbe number of hia patty the greater would be the difficulty of Itis advance, as it would be impossible to ob- tain necessary supplies and carriers. The transport troubles would be excessive owing tothe swampy valleys, every depression be- ing a deep morass. When Baker himself dim covered the AlbertNyanza in 1864 his party consisted of only. 13 men and with that small number they were delving for three mcnths, and incapable of moving from one localit ,as carriers had disappeared. On his second expedition Sir Samuel was in com- mand of the Khedive of Egypt's forces, They powder and OW tableSp001114 of butter. Mix with half a pint of sweet milk, earring as little ae posaible, This will =tau quite a. soft dough, whiath must be flatted one with the spoon on a weleamttered pie-tia, and baked twenty minute' lu art oven about right for biscuit, It is better to sift the powder in the flour before the batter is tnlibed In. Ceraullg split the cake while hot, and All with sttaWberries previonaly alightly mashed aod eweeteeed to taste. Thoroughly Wall one-half pint °ream at leaet twenty-four hours old. Whip till stiff, add two tablespooes powdered sugar and servo with the °eke. alms CORSON'S STRAWBERRY QATEE,—For two medium-sized caktai use one pound which is one quart of AM', half a pound of good butter, about one pint of milk, two tea- apoontula of baking powder, an even tea- spoonful of malt. Sift the flour, salt and baking powder together twice, thee add half of the butter chopping it into the flour with a knife. Mix with milk, divide Into two °alma 4bUd put on two pie plates and bake in a hot oven alieut twenty minutes. If the The ChhleSe Boys Rather bright is the average Chinese boy, an active little follow, his almehapeci eyett shining like a jet ef beads with no clothe,: to speak of in Summer, mid in Winter dres- sed like a small edition of his father. As a boy he is celled a " wa-wa," a very sug- gestive name, and hia first Chinese worde are " " and " ma " just as though he spoke &Vial, The first great event ef his life, and is first trial, is when the barber is milled lit to shave his head. He generally proves on that occastou a true with vigorous Imago. After thie shafting, his head forseveral years seems to send forth whst may be called " queue sports " he every direction, and from every part of the skull where the hair ought to be. Sometimes se noftily as five or ate each braided and tied with a red cord, are found upon the boy. The great day of his useful life, the day of "troueers with pegkets 'em"in b when all these smaller quenea are allayed off and the single queue—the qsaeue of manhood—is started, Chinese boya have s, great many amase- cakes. are mimed to burn at first, cover manta open to thefts. They play marbles as theni with a buttered paper until nearly we do only the marble is rolled with the done and then remove it to allow them to foot instead cif thefingers. They play games brown. Partly cool the shortoakesafter they like battledore and shuttlecock only the are done, tear them apart with a fork and sole of the foot takes the ldace of the bat. spread on the reserved butter while they are tledere, It is wonderful what skill tthey as- quireinthegoane ,and the length of time they will keep the little tuft of feather e tn the ear never allowing it once to toucsh the ground. Kite flying is universal in China, though that is rather a man's amusement there. powdered sugar, Ktep the shortcake in a But the mange of toys for children ha cool place, and when serving pour some very almost endless in ha variety, and while colcl cream over each slice, or whip the they are rustler and far oheapez than the cream which will make it go feather and to many, tastes better. warm enough to melt the butter, apply it se lightly that the shortcake is not made heaver, Hall three pinta or two quarte of berries and place upon the caked, laying the sections one above another, and covering each with elaborate olookwore contrivanoes with us, they serve their purposes equally well. But hey life in Chine is not all made up of play. His preparation for manhood is made much the same ag with us, and when he reaches a suitable age he is either :taut to school or put to work, Schools are found in all the cities and villages, not eupported by a tax, but by subscription or tuition fees, and all Chinese parents who oan 'amiably afford send their sons te school. The sons of the poorest parents—poor with poverty of which we know nothing—may aspire to the highest offices in the state, excepting only the imperial throne, This is not a mere theory. All the offices in the gift of the Emperor are filled with the eons of the common people. The pathway to these mamma is education. Hence every nerve is strain- ed, every sacrifice is made to keep the boy at school. MISS BARNARD'S STRAWBERRY' Oile•balf cup of sugar, one cup of butter, one pint of milk, one teaspoonful of soda, one and =alai* pints of flour, two teaspoon- fuls of cream -tartar, a little salt. Bake and split, insert berries previously mashed and sugared, and put a few large berriee on top. Eat while warm. STRAWBERRY SHORTCATCH.—One pint of flour, one teaspoonful of oreanntantar, one• half as much soda, a pinch of salt two tablespoonfuls of sugar, four tablespoonfuls of butter and one cup of sweet milk, Sift the cream-tartar'soda, sugar and salt with the flour, rub in the butter then mix with the milk. Split the cake and spread with one quart of 'berries well sweetened. • WHIPPED CREAM FOR BERRIES.---Tak8 cream which is not too thick as if it is too rich it will easily turn to butter. • Have it be cold and then beat with an egg beatte unless you have a whip churn which teaket the oream a different consietency. Lent should:treble in quantity by whipping, Cream and Ines. Ice cream is no longer a luxury for the few, but is extensively made in private families and eaten as is desert in place of puddings and pies. A freezer is not expen- sive and ice is easily obtained. Half an hour is found to be time enough for freezing, for which directions come with every freezer. Be sure and US8 the reauired amount of salt. To freeze a cream, adjust the parts of the freezer properly, pour the mixture into the can and give the handle a turn or tveo to see that it works right, before pitokin.g. The ice may be broken small by placing= a can- vas bag and pounding with a wooden mallet. There should be three times at much ice ae salt. Do not pour off the water which forms in the freezing process unless it is likely to overflow into the men. The rules for creams are as many and varied as cake recipes. The plainer kinds, made like custards, may be cooked in quantity sufficient for two freezings, one-half being kept in the refrig- erator until needed for freezing. The custards to be frozen must be made aweeter than if eaten without freezing. The best ice cream I have ever tasted was made at a farm house. Everything was at hand for making it of the beat quality, and there was no 'scrimping in the materials. The maker understood freezing and made • light work of it. She served a different kind of cream every day or two, using dif- • ferent flavors and fruits, to give variety, VANILLA ICE Crotem.--Put one pint of milk into a pail set in a kettle of hot water or use a double boiler. Beat two eggs, a small half cup of flour, one cup of sugar, and when the milk is boiling hot add to the mixture. Boil about fifteen minutes, stirring often. Take from the stove; add one quart of cream, another cup of sugar, and one and one-half tablespoonfuls of vanilla. Stir well, and set away to cool; then freeze. Peeler SgERBET.—Make a rich lemonade with twice the quantity of sugar ordinarily used. Pour a spoonful of boiling water over a little of the thin yellow rind, and when it is cool add to the lemonade. Strain it into the freezer. It will take a little longer to freeze than an ordinary cream, CHOCOLATE CREPE -3300A two eggs very light, and add two cups of sugar. Heat one pint of milk to the boiling point and pour over the eggs and sugar slowly beat- ing it at the same time. Rub five table- spoonfuls ol chocolate into euffieient milk to • dissolve and add to the mixture. Beat it thoroughly and set the dish back upen the stove or in the double boiler to cook till it thickens. Then cool it and add a title van- illa flavoring. When tbe custard is cold beat in one quart of cream and freeze. Fnoznet PUBDING.—One quart of milk, one pint of cream, six whole eggs, the yolks of three eggs, one and one-half cope of sugar, two ounces each of preserved ginger green- gages and pineapple cut fine. Boil the milk and cream and pour it on the beaten eggs and sugar; cook slightly and when cool add the fruit and freeze the same as ice-cream. A Man must get iip earlv in the forenoon htt order to get the degree of A. M. StraWberries and Short Oahe, PI 1' th1 A talnAbL aHkJ ORT ARE.—q.0 MIS putt. Ox sifted dont rub' one thaepoonful of biking -gg11•41100.--6. 16. Extra Polite, The moat extreme urbanity of the bowing and mailing white merchant pales into mere courtesy when compared to the suavity, the delicate subtlety, of the " colored " keeper of a little crossroads store or a shop in some of the " darky towns" of the South or West. • When Mr. Pompey LyourgusWintergreen sees Mrs. Jenny Jackson entering his -shop he meets her at the door with a oourtly New and graceful wave of the hand and says': "How, do, Mb' Jackeon? Come in, Mis' Jackson, come right in. An' how's all de folks wid yo', Mis' Jackson ?" "'Bout de same as day gineally am, Mistah Wintergreen. Mk' Wintergreen an' de ohillun well? " • " Yes'm'g day is, Mis' Jackson deyer reely quitefusb-rate. I heerd yo' baby bio, sick. "Yes, it was sm Hat was powlul bad off fo' mos' a week, but hit's 'about well now, Mistah Wintergreen." " Dat's right, Mis' Jackson; clat's right. Sickness in de family am a great tribillation, 'deed it am. Anything I kin serve you to, Mis' Jackson 2" "Gob any right good mack'rel, alistab Wintergreen ?" " Mb' Jai:keen ? 'Deed I'se got some ob de finest mackfrel yo' eber see. Now dar's a mack'rel dat am a mack'rel." "Hit do look nice, I must say dat, Mistah Wintertergreen." " Nice, Mis' Jackson ? tDat am a feeble word to sprees w't dat mackfrel am, 'deed ib am, Mis' Jackson." "I'll take one ob ern sah." "Couldn't use two of: 'era, Mia' Jackson Distill keep, ye' know," 'No, Mistala Wintergreen I don° as I could. We aia't right found ob mack'rel nohow. Reckoned git a little fo' a change," "Yes 'm; hit's all right, I ain't pane hab no trouble sellin' inack'rel like dese, Now, wet else, Mils' Jackson ?" ,‘ How's sugar." lVfistaW intergreen ?" "It am vein up right 'long, Mis' Jack- son." "Dat so, Mistah Wintergreen? Den I better hab a pound." " Bettol sa.y a pound an' a half." "No; our folks likes merlseses fo' sweet- nba' bout well as angel." "Dat so ta ell, that am lucky, deed ill am so, Mis' Jackson. Now wet else, Mis' Jackson ?" "I'll look at some calico, if you please, 1VIistali Wintergreen." "Yes 'm, yes 'm, 'avid the greatest pleas- ure in life, Mis' Jeskson. lee glad I'se got somethira a lady ob erca taste cayn't help likin,' I said to myself wen I bought dat °milker, I said, Now dat'll suit MiSs jinny Jackson; 'deed I said dat very word. Now ain't dat nice calico, ma'am I" "It really am, Mistah Wintergreen." "1 knowed 7er say doe, Mis' Jackson." "Yo' doo't reckon dot green figgiar '11 fade Mistah Wintergreen?" " What I Calker like dat fade, Mis' Jack - on? Yo's jokin', fo' sure. Date de very bes' Merrymack calikert Mis' Iackson." "Hb do look like a right good pietse, but de figgahes am a little large." "Ho, no, Mis' Jackson; now dare whar I knows 'bout de fashions 'n ve'at yo does. Big figgalts b all de go now." "Dat so ?" "Hit reely am, Mb' Jackson. How many rads shall 1 out off, ma'am ?" " ten, sah." "Bettor say leven, Mists Jaokscsn." " No ; ten'll do. I ain't ovine trim hit much." I " Hain't? Well, now, calker like difall make up right stylish Mhout muoh flubdeb bay in de way ob ruftlor an' skit." "Dat ans reap so." "Wet e1e, Mis' Jackson 2" " Nothin moa arth," " No 2 I'S0 sorry ; 'deed I am," " Gool day, Mistah Wintergreen." "Good day, Mita Jackiton ; good day ma'am." The German Emperor's Polioy, The report that after a definite settle. went of the relations between Russia and Germany Emperor William II. will devote himself to trying to secure a mutual redum tion of the military establishment of Europe is news too good to be believed, It would be accounted a bit of strategy worthy of a vet- eran, and a victory of peace not less renown- ed than war's, if the young toonatch pur- posely sounded his military note at the start in order under cover of it to take up the pre- fect now attributed to him. But his known aptitudes and aspirations as a eoldier forbid any such assumption ill advance of facts to inipport it. The constaht /viatica on the Erenth frontier, the heal passport troubles, and the otnission of references to Preece in all the Emperore utteranees also show that the peaceful anticipations expreased with re- gard to the great empire on one side of Gen many do not ineausle the great republic on the other side. For this additional re:menthe rumours of a partial cliciarmament policy must be discredited for the present at least, In one mine° Etaperor William may have a peace purpose in vie*, dam the pledge of Russia agamet alliance with Vrarice by Mak- ing ootteeeskine to her in Buigaria Weald doubtlesie be is severe blow to any war party ittVrance. Thought is the wind, knowledge the Sail, and mankind the vessel. The explorer Of the Fayum, Mr. Petrie, has discoverea " a splendid fragment of the Second Itor,le of the Iliad, written on papy. run in the finest Geoelt hand, befoke the rounded Uncial or cursive etoripts eagle into use. This precious document was found rolled up under the head ofe, mummy Which was buried simply in the send, with° ot the protection of a tomb. It measure,: al:regent- ly from 3t to 4 feet in length. The date of the menuescript o about the second or third. ceetury. It will be edited by Prof, Seyce,"