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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1892-8-18, Page 3If I Were Fair. If wore fair little hands end. ileroler Xeet ; JX to my (emote the color rent and sweet ,Camts at a word and fadea at a frown ; 4 It I had clinging curls of burnisled brown; .1t Ihad drearily eyes aglow with smiles, ..And graceful limbs, and pretty girlie') wiles— If 1 were fair, Levee would not turn aside, .:Life's path, so zBanow, would. be broad. and. wide, If I were fair If I were fair .Perhaps like other maidens t might hold A, true heart's store of tried and tested gold. ..f.novo waits on Bettuty, though sweet Love alone, seetns to nie, for aught might well atone. But Beauty's charm is strong, and Loire obeys The mystic witchery of her shy ways. .If I were fair my years would seem so few ; • reife would unfold sweet pictures to my ViOW, if I wore fair! If I wore fair 1 .Perhaps the baby, with a scream of joy, To Mese my nock would throw away its toy, .And Mae its dimples in me shining bean .Bewildend by the maze of glory there But now -01 shadow of a young girl's face; ethecolond lips that Pain's cold. ringer trace, You will not blame the child whine wee hands Mose, Not on the blighted bud, but on the rose So rich and fain If I were fair! -OS just a little fair, with some soft touch About my face to glorify it much 11 no one shunne1 my presence or my kise, My heart would almost break beneath its bliss. "Tis said eaoh pilgrim shall attain his goal, And perfect light shall flood each blinded soul, When day's flush merges into sunset's bars, . And night is here. And then beyond the stars I shall be fair! Three Bad Little Dueks. (Belle Hunt, in Omaha World -Herald.) need mother hen hatched three little ducks, And she loved them with all her here -Though she thought their web toes were funny tor °Make, And resolved she would pull them awn ut Puffy cried "cheep 1" and Fluffy cried "Peep 1" And the powder -bill cried "cloak! cluck!" ' Till the kind mother hen let the little toes be, • As nature had made the first duck. eOne day mother hen took a stroll to the pool, With .Powdenbill, Fluffy and Putt. 'When in the three hopped and went swimming about, Contented and happy enough. ., Quack quack " : cried the Brother, " You'll drown, my dear chicks!" But her answer was three merry clucks. And they eaucily said. " niother hen, seratch your head; We're not chickens, but three little ducks." HE WAS PREPARED. -- so Emergency Could Arise Which Could Catch This Young Mau Unaware. "Must you go, Sylvanus ?" "Lucinda, I must 1" Again and again the young husband otrained her to his heaving breast and sought to soothe the agitation tin, shook her frame. " My word is pledged, dearest." "How came you to give them such a pro- mise ?" she asked, wildly. "At the opening of the season." he re- plied, " I agreed to go NM. rever I was sent. I never expected to be see+ to that place," he added, bitterly, "and made the promise without due reflection, but 1 am bound by it. I can't crawl out of it now, Lucinda." "But if—if anything should happen to you, Sylvanus, what would become of me ?" " I am insured in three secret societies, dearest, for a large sum of money. My affairs are in good shape. I don't owe a 4ent to any son of a gun on earth. This house will he yours, and if the worst comes to the wont, you know, you can go back to es your folks." "And maybe nothing will happen. Do you feel that hard substance inside my vest ? Well, that's steel. I've got a whole coat of mail under these clothes. This cap has a steel lining. I can pull down a steel visor that will cover all of my face, except -the chin. That's got to be free, of course. And—" " 0, Sylvanus, don't go 1" With the utmost tenderness he released 'himself from her clinging embrace, kissed deer once, twice, thrice, tore madly out of the house, and with a look of iron firm- ness en his pale face he climbed aboard an •express train a few minutes later and was .gone. He was on his way to Louisville to um- ,pire a game of beseball.—Chicago Tribune. Cumulative Praise. In the month of March, 1815, the Paris Moneteur announced the unexpected return of the Emperor Napoleon from Elba. The first announcement of the Itironiteur was far from polite, but as the little Corsican ap- proached Paris a gradual change took place in its tone e " The cannibal has left his den." "The Corsican wolf has landed in the Bay of San Juan." "The tiger has arrived at Gay." " The wretch spent the night at Gres noble." "The tyrant has arrived at Lyons." "The usurper has been seen within fifty -railes of Paris." "Bonaparte is advancing with great rapidity, but he will not put his foot inside glee walls of Parte." "To -morrow Napoleon will be at our •gates." "The Emperor has arrived at Fontein- gates." " His Imperial Majesty, Napoleon, entered Paris yesterday surrounded by his •loyal subjects. —Texas Siftings. British Immigrants in Brazil. The British Consul at Santos, Brazil, has • submitted a report concerning the British • immigrants to that country who met with such utter failure and suffered such a run of pitiable misfortunes a short time ago. Many .of the immigrants died of fever, and all who managed to live became utterly destitute and were returned to England by the charity of the English people. The Brazilian . agents in Europe, according to the Consul's report, had been instructed to take agri- cultural laborers from the Late, races only, but as they received a commission for each recruit they registered, everyone was offered. The bulk of the British immigrants were mill hands and from manufacturing towns. They would have failed as agricul- turists anywhere. They were deceived and , deceived themselves about the country, the work and the money; their habits were un- euited to the tropics, and they could not speak the language. It Was a case of general 411mm/donee. The Way to Reach Him. "Sir," exclaimed the cellar sternly, pointing to an article in the laver; "1 am trying to find the man who wrote that in- famons falsehood about mei" , " Try putting an 'ad.' in our wantooluinn," auggested the busy editor, without looking stip. °Merit Hotel in the World. The oldest hotel in Switzekland, and •probably in the world, is the Hotel of the Three Kings at Basle. Among its guests' in 1026 were the Emperor Conrad II., his son, Hetary III., and B,udolph, the last King of Burgundy. A professional thief is tender arrest in ..Drooklyet for robbing the poor -boxes in, St. .Xavier'e Church. AIM YOU PURBIIIVING er So, Head Thie and Be PrOud 01 Your, sell. The human akin is perforated by at least 1,000 holes in the space of eaoh equareinch. For the melte of argument, say there are ex- actly 1,000 of these little drain ditches to each square inch ot Blain surface. Now esti- mate the skin surface of the average -sized man at 16 square feet, and we find that lie has 2,304,000 pores, IS MAN TO BLAME FOR WOMAN'S IDIOM DRESS? The present etrikes u$ as being is favorable opportunity to remark that the pereon who invented the present fashion of ladies' street clreeses might have been more profitably employed, and the ladiee who obey the mandate are by no means wise. We are minted to melee this remark by the perusal of an article in the Arena in which it is several times suggested that men, and particularly men connnected with the preen are really to blame for making the women wear unhealthy and inconvenient garments. We have yet to meet the Irian who admires the dragging of a costly skirt along the dirty pavements, nor have we heard any man say that the sight of a woman parading the street holding up is fist -full of calico as she walks is charming to the eye. Indeed, it is past the average man's comprehension that ladies 'Mould have their dresses made so long that the holding -up fashion is mammary. A. man who couldn't walk without holding up his trousers would be leughed off the street. Men neither throw away their suspenders nor put frille to their pantaloons. See what women of sense think of these long dresses. Miss Frances E. YiTillard said recently : " She heti allowed herself to become is mere lay figure upon which any hump or hoop or farthingale could be fastened that fashionmongers chose ; and oftimes her head is a mere rotary ball upon which milliners may let perch whatever they please—be it bird of paradise or beast or creeping thing. She has bedraggled her senseless long skirts in whatever combina- tion of filth the street presented, submitting to a motion the most awkward and degrad- ing known to the entire animal kingdom ; for nature has endowed all others that carry trains and trails with the power of lifting them without turning in their tracks; but the fashionable woman pays lowliest obeisance to what follows in her own wake, and, as ahs does so, cuts the most groteaque figure outside of a jumping -jack. In view of the mania for long Blurts, and the settled distemper of bodices abbreviated at the wrong terminus' it strikes me as desirable that the councilshould utter a deliverance in favor of a sensible, modest, tasteful, busi- ness costume for busy women." Here is another description of the incon- veniences of the long street gown, by Mrs. Ellen B. Dietrick ; " lt is on the street that woman s present condition is most miserable. The street gown not being well adapted to pockets, the average woman generally has one hann useless for emergencies, on account of its burdens; and when an umbrella must be held in the other, and the mud -bespattered robe first slops miserably wet about its owner's heels, or twists fotteringly about as the wind rises, again, either brushes off filthy curbstones or is gathered too high in its owner's frantic efforts to preserve its original nicety, is it not a spectacle for the goddess of common sense to weep over? But with men wielding that terrible weapon, the press,„ and occupying that powerful stronghold, the pulpit, it is swimming against the current, with fearful odds against them, for women to undertake anything the masculine half of humanity chooses to call • unwomanly,' actuated by pure nonsense and utter inconsistency though it be." Just one more, by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, who says: "When I see women stay indoors the entire forenoon because their morning dresses trail the ground, and indoors all the after- noon because there comes up a shower, and the walking -dress would soak and dra.bble ; or when I see the workingwoman 'standing at the counter, or at the teacher's desk, from day to dark, in the drenched boots and damp stockings which her muddy skirts, flapping from side to side, have compelled her to endure; when I see her, a few weeks thereafter, going to Dr. Clarke for treat- ment, as a consequence; when I find, after the most patient experiment, that, in spite of stout rubbers, water -proof gaiters, and dress skirt three or four inches from the ground, an out-of-door ' girl is compelled to a general change of clothing each indi- vidual time that she returns from her daily walks in the summer rain ; when I see a woman climbing upstairs with her baby in one arm, and its bowl of bread and milk in the other, and see her tripping on her dress at every stair (if, indeed, baby, bowl, bread, milk and mother do not go down in universal chaos, it is onlyfrom the efforts of long skill and experience on the part of the mother in performing that acrobatic feat) ; when physicians tell me what fearful jars and strains these sudden jerks of the body from stumbling on the dress -hem impose upon a woman's intricate organism, and how much less mjurious to her a direct fall would be than this start and rebound of nerve and muscle, and how the strongest man would suffer from such accidents; and when they further assure me of the amount of calculable injury wrought upon our sex by the weight of skirting brought upon the hips, and by thus making the seat of all the vital energies the pivot of motion and centre of endurance; when I see women's skirts, the shortest of them, lying (when they sit down) inches deep along the foul floors, which man, in delicate appreciation of our concessions to his fancy in such respects, has inundated with tobacco juice, and from which she sweeps up and carries to her home the germs of stealthy pestilences ; when I see a ruddy, romping aehoolegirl, in her first long dress, beginning to avoid coasting on her double -runner, or afraid of the stone walls in the blueberry fields, or standing aloof from the game of ball, or turning sadly away from the ladder which her brother is climbing to the cherry tree, or begging for him to usenet her over the gunwale of a boat; when I read of the sink- ing of steamers at sea, with 'nearly all the women and children on board,' and the accompanying comments,' Every effort was made to aesiet the women up the masts and out of danger till help arrived, but they could not clonb, and we wore forced to leave them to their fate ; ' or when I hear the wail with which a million lips take up the light word e of the loafer on the Portland Wharf, when the survivors of the Atkin. tic' filed past him, Not is woman among them all 1 My God l'—when I consider these things, I feel that I have ceased to deal with blunders in dress and have entered the • category of crams.37 A "Gallic Iiihernteism." The following notice was found posted at the gate of a rural cemetery—not in Ireland, but near Dieppe, in Franca: "Owing to the crowded condition of this cemetery only those living in the cemmatio will hereafter beburied in ite"—Youth's Vont, nattiest. The cloven toot is often eovered with patent leather CIIKKLESS WIVES. & Yankee Judge fears Soneethenn Tent on the Snleieete That growing Warm of women who bane no me for children may guel something interesting in some reerrerts of Judge Gert' nor, of the Wayne chnuie court, in is divorce case that canes before hint a few days ago. The husbands of Snell women may find cause for gratification in the same aomment of his honor. 'The judge paid : " Preenoally, the object of marriage is children. New, a woman is not obliged to have chil- dren, but if she deo pot desire a family oho cannot compel a Ingsband who does to live with her. She cannot say, 41 will have no children," and compel her partner to carry out the legal obligations which the law imposes on him by reason of the marital contract. Such a position, taken by the wife, hen been held a good and sufficient cause for divorce. It is a rule recognized by many of the law writers, and while it seldom arises, it is no less the law, and, to my mind, founded upon good reason." A True Chrtstian Endeavor Story. " Mother, you will not fail me, will you'!" asked Lizzie Brennox, as she tied on her new bonnet and stoon before the looking glees arranging her veil. "You know I must go early to the Christian Endeavor to- night in order to relieve Nora Horton, who has been at the literary stand ever since 10 o'clock this morning. There will be an awful crowd, but if you push right through, just as if you knew what you wanted, you will get it all right. Those with badgesare generally let in first, and for that reaeon think you had better come a little late—say about 8 o'clock. Ask for the literary table, and there you will find me. Do you hear what I am saying, mother 1" Lizzie picked up some books and started for the door. "Law, yes, child 1 You need not fear but I will final you and he there to come home with you as planned." "1 would not think of allowing you to go alone, mother; but it is not dark at 8, and you are not afraid, are you?" asked Lizzie. " No, no. How you do bother your head. I am old enough to take care of my- self, Lord knows 79, and it is only five blocks away. I'll be there, never fear, for I am determined to see what the Christian people have been doing these last ten years to benefit the nation." Eight o'clock came, and Mrs. Brennox, remembering Lizzie's instructions, pushed right through the crowd, "just as if she knew what she wanted." A man did pull at her dress and say: "Hey, madam, where is your ticket?" but she heeded him not and continued elbowing her way until she found herself in a bril- liantly lighted room, crowded so with people that not a seat could be found. Other ladies were standing and Mrs. Brennox did not seem to mind doing the same. She leened againat the railing that ran back of some seats, and there stood for three hours, her eyes riveted on the scenes displayed in the opposite side of the room. "So this is Christian Endeavor," she thought. I imagined it would be more like an old-time prayer meeting. I feel as if I was dead and was in the sky looking down on is lifetime of people. I wonder where the Christianity comes in? If this is a ser- mon I got in too late to get the text. Per- haps that is why I don't understand it better." The scenes changed one after another, but she lost not one word said, nor missed a movement made. "1 have learned one thing, anyway," she continued. "I'll be more considerate to the unfortunate and judge less harshly my own people from this night out. It is a new way to preach, but now I understand perfectly just how they are teaching the vices and virtues of people with whom we are to live. Duplicity and cunning are obliged to show their faces to us here. I don't much like to see those girls jump about like that without any clothes on. Yet I suppose times have changed much since I went out, and if the Christian Endeavor take this way of teach- ing us the right and wrong of life, it must be all proper, but it does seem a queer way to give us a lesson. I suppose those girls are all Sunday school teachers. No doubt but I am Puritanical. It is the finest thing I ever saw, but so unexpected. To assure herself that she was not dream- ing, she touched the young man standing next her and asked if they were really and truly in Madison Garden. " Yes, madam," he replied. Then she thought she would see the affair through, dresses or no dresses on the Sunday school teachers. When the ship went down in the last scene, and she saw the water smooth() itself over the wrecked ship, and afterwards the angels, with their bright wings, hovered near, searching for their dear ones, she broke down and cried with all her heart. "That was the finest sermon I ever heard in my life, and I don't feel one bit tire,d ; but where is Lizzie? Young man, can you tell me where the literary table is ?—the table where they are selling the Christian Endeavor books ?" The ticket man replied than she must go next door for those. "Next door 1 you say, than what is this ?" "This is the Garden Theatre, Madam." "Mother 1 mother 1 where have you been ?" cried Lizzie, clasping her about the neck and kissing her frantically. "1 went home from the meeting and learned you had started about 8. Oh, dear 1 I have gone like mad three times aroundthis square and—" " Sh 1 daughter," said the mother, "1 have been to the theatre for the first time in my life. I stood up three hours, per- fectly enraptured with what I thought the sayings and doings as well as preach- ings and teachings of God's choicest people." "Mother, you've seen Sinbad,'" was all Lizzie said, but one could hear the con- tinued happy laughter of the two as they wended their way homewarch—a IL W., in New York News. If it would be any satisfaction to Hamil- tonians who have been sweltering under 95 degree shadows to know that there are people worse off than they, the satisfaction in not hard to be found. There are various localities in Asia for which travellers claim the distinction of being the hottest in the world. Officers of the old Indian flotilla tell with straight faces that they have known the thermometer to register 200 degrees in the sun at Bushire on the Persian gulf. Though the testimony is given in good faith, its correctness seem incredible because water under such is son would real within 12 degrees of the boiling point. Aden, on the isthmus of the same name on the south coast of Arabia'is Had to suffer frequently with a heat of 112 degrees in the shade. The average tempera- ture of Sukkur the year round is 9 degreee in the ehade. The temperature of certain localities of the great American desert is said to be higher than is ever known in Sabena. For downright long spells of weather when temperature wanders between 112 and 120 &green travelers recobemend the fleintle, in India. Sweet fern placed in is room in liberal quantities will drive &Way /lean eelleinite YOnlit ItICALT111. The Season:When Errors lu Drente and Diet 0611010 Sidemen. This is is precarioue period of the year for many people, especially e,hildren, and there are many conunon more in drink end diet that it would be well to avoid if good health is to ins enjoyed. Just now there is a gpod deal of =miner complaint in the oity, and it is of a nature to cause much eufferingamong those affficted. Physicians eay much of it is due to ignorance on the part of those afflicted, or in the case of children, to their parents' lack of knowledgeor careleeeness, A few hints gleaned from the most reliable sources may be useful to our readers. Avoid a heating diet. Eat sparingly of meats and oily substances and reduce your consumption of starchy food. There is no need, with the thermometer in the nineties, of a great supply of fuel for the Benton. It becomes not only wasteful but irritating, and irritation is to be avoided. The whitest bread is the least adapted to this weather orto the support of the body. You need the phosphates which are caeefully bolted out of the white flour. Be careful how you indulge in green foods. Unripe fruit ought to be absolutely forbidden to the little ones. Green vege- tables, properly cooked, are well suited to the season. Salads are cooling and grateful to the digestive organs. Ripe fruit is always suitable to the healthy stomach, if used fresh and in moderation; and no matter what food is eaten moderation ought to govern. Don't swill ice-cold drinks. If ice -water is taken it should be in small quantities and with great care. Better not to take it at all. Hot drinks are less objectionable, although not so tempting. Lemons afford a very convenient form of summer drink within the reach of all. If you relish milk it will prove both food and drink, but take it slowly if you would not disturb your etomach ; don't pour it down. Life is short, of course, but you can afford to take your time to eat and drink. Let your children have plenty of rest. Get them to bed early and, if possible, let them sleep a while in the daytime. If they have early supper let them eat some simple food—a biscuit or two or is little bread and milk—before retiring for the night They will rest the better for it. Don't spare the waterworks by neglecting your regular bathe. Keep the family clean. The excretory organs are always bard - worked; in this weather the skin has its full share of the scavenging to do. See that ib is kept clean. Observe regular hours for eating and aleeping. See that the functional activities of the body are maintained. Don't make a whiskey keg of your stomach ; it will rebel if you try to. Don't drink any kind of malted liquor to excess ; even if it is your custom to drink beer it is not necessary that you should overtax your stomach at this season. And avoid stale beer and the villainous compounds which are known by a dictionary of ferny names. The grapier your summer food and drink the better. If you have been discreet you will not be likely to get the "Canadian cholera," but if you do, don't drug yourself at the advice of every ignorant and enterprising quack. The remedies for diarrhoeal troubles are legion, each guaranteed (?) to cure, but people continue to trust in their virtues until they are beyond the help of the skilled physician. The disease is not one to be trifled with. A simple remedy may prove useful in many cases, but it must be intelln gently administered, even when adapted to the case ; and in medicine each subject must be individualized before the treatment is likely to prove successful. What is suit- able for one patient suffering from a certain disease may ,lee quite injurious to Another. Drugs are dangerous in unskilled hands, and a few hours of a violent attack may place the sufferer beyond help. It is well, therefore, that it should not be allowed to run on for any length of time before the family physician is called in. On Servants! The " Jenness Miller Monthly" gives this on servants : A servant hates to be always watched. "1 left her," said one girl, because she was always prying around, and coming out in the kitchen very softly, like a cat, to see if I was working all the time," That isn't necessary, and it is sure to create ill -feeling. Shortcomings can be discovered without constant espial, and it lowers it woman in her servant's eyes when she shows a suspicious disposition. The great master at Rugby made his boys great by putting them on their honor. If a servant has any sense of honor, trust to it. If she hasn't, discharge her after is fair trial, and get one who has. It does people good to be trusted, unless they are utterly, destitute of moral fibre; it does them good to be com- mended, to be advised, to be approached like human beings and not like machines. Pleased With Their Native City. Mrs. Waring, wife of Mr. Newman War- ing, the well known printer of Ottawa, Kansas, and her sister, Mrs. Hill, old Hamiltonians, are the guests of Mr. Andrew Leitch, Oxford street. In revisiting their old home after an absence of twenty three years these ladies are astonished at the changes and improvements which have taken place during that time. They have always believed that Hamilton was a pretty place, but after once again viewing its avenues, its parks, residences, its mountain railway, its street car and steamboat lines, conclude that there is no more beautiful or go-ahead place anywhere than Hamilton, their old hoine. Spinning is Now the Fad. Spinning is the latest fashionable occupa- tion. A number of women are learning the art, and the antique spinning wheel is no longer it mere ornament. A square of linen "which I wove myself " and decorated with embroidery is considered a proper thing to have about or to use as a gift. -But mademoiselle particularly likes to be seen at her spinning wheel. It is a graceful, wonianly pose. One never thinks of a man weaving it web of that sort, and one which shows off a pretty figure and well -moulded hands and arms to great advantage. One View of U. Some children were lately overheard discussing the Sunday service in the fash- ionable church at which the family wor- shipped. ' Well, now," said the 7 -year-old boy, "1 should like to know what the sermon is for, anyway ?" "Why, Harry, don't you know ?" an- swered his 5 -year-old Mater., " It's to give the singers a rest, of course,"—Hebrew Standard. Uolv to Dodge Drowning. Rocheeter Herald : Don't rook the boat. Don't bathe when overheated. Don't get drunk. If these three rides were observed, .the number of drownings would be reduced aloe* 95 per oent. "Ob, mamma 1 I thall get a divorce So tehall." 44 My dear child, what hae hap - period. 2" "e is letting his whiskers grew and they doe% match Ficlo's a bit 1" The beet way to attraot attention is to behave better than any other man in town. THAT PAUPER. T.••••••••••••••••.4. /Mill Marsden' fl TrOteiSe, Which Was raitilluily Kept. 0 LD ABNER MARSDEN moved uneasily in his big arm -chair. chair. "Seems to zee Luce is a mighty long time getting that water," he muttered, as he rose and hobbled to the end of the pot- tage porch. He put aside the vines that nereenecl the view and looked down towards the lower end of the garden where a cool spring gurgled up, from the earth. " Well, if she ain't talkin agitt with that pauper, Aug Howland," growled the old man. " Luce I Say, Loom I Went you 1" he called. "I'll be there iu a minute, father," called back a comely girl of 18, who stood near the spring chatting with a plainly dressed youth of about the same age. She reached for the pail of water which Angus Howland still held in his hand, and said, with a smile : "1 must go, Aug; father wants me." "It eeema to me, Luce," sedd Angus, ae he gave her the pail, "that your father always wants you when he sees me around. He hates me for some reason,but if it's all right with you I can stand it." Lucia looked troubled as sne said, "Good- bye, Aug," and turned towards the house. Olci Marsden was an extremely illiterate man, but in business ventures he had always been successful, and now, though a confirmed invalid, his head wasfull of schemes and devices, and he used to sit for hours at a time planning measures Isy which his hoard of wealth might be increased. Lucia took after her mother, who had been "a power- ful good woman," so people said. "Luce," said the old man, as she ap- peared at door, "1 want this to be the last of your talking with that good-for- nothing lout, Ang Howland. The idea of a likely girl like you talking friendly with such trash 1 I won't have it, and if he don't steer clear I'll give him something to remember me by," and the old man shook his big oak cane vigorously. "1 do not see why you should dislike him so," said Lucia. • He has had a hard time getting along, but that isn't his fault." "His father was cut out to die in the poorhouse," yelled the old man, "and why didn't he die there ?" "k's.,B,ecause," Lucia, anewered, " Ang worked hard and took care of the old fol Her father scowled. "Old Howland was intended for the poorhouse and no good comes of fightin' Providence. He died with- out a cent and so will the young feller. But that ain't the point; there are plenty of fellers 'round here that has money, but there ain't many sech gals as you be, I reckon. Why, Luce, you have the choice of the town, and it's your solemn duty not to be rash." The miserly features of the old man relaxed somewhat as he admired his daughter's comely looks. He experienced a kind of fatlaerly affection for her and was even willing to spend money freely that she might make a good appearance. Whenever he eaw her dressed in some new article of apparel he would mutter to himself : "It's all right ; it will all come back ; I know a good investment, for I have made a good many—yes, a good many." A few evenings after the event above mentioned. Lucia was walking in the gar- den, when she heard. some one tap lightly on the gate, and in the moonlight saw Angus Howland. " He wants to see me," she thought, and she hurried through the lilacs to the garden path. "Father will miss me if I am gone long," said Lucia, on approaching, " but we can visit for a li"Luce," e , , , said Anglin "1 have come to say good-bye. Your father says for me to keep away from you because 1 ani poor and he dosen't want you to marry a, pauper. Well, I am going away for five years, and when I come back I'll be rich—rich enough to suit your father ?" he exclaimed ex- citedly, striking tee fence a heavy blow With his fist. "1 don't care much about your being so rich," said Lucia. "1'!! like you just as well if you are poor, but don't stay away so long," and she looked beseechingly into his face. "You may have bad hick, you know, and not earn very much money after all, but 111 think just as much of you. Are you going far'i" she asked, looking down en the ground. "To California," said Angus, "and I know just what I shall do when I get there, too. Father often told me of a valley in California. where all sorts of fruit will grow almost Without cultivation. Father wandered down there when he was out among the mines, and, being used to a fruits country, he knew just what it wonderful place it was. He'd have gone there himself if his sickness hadn't come on, but he told me about it time and again and he gave me his little map, and Howland took an old torn paper from his pocket sad carefully opening it pointed out to Lucia by the bright moonlight which broke through the trees the Eldorado of his hopes and ambition. "That valley is mine,' said he, "and I am going there and plant trees." " Luce 1" cried old Marsden from the house, "whore be you ?" " Here I am, father," Lucia replied. " Well, it seems to me that you are a mighty long time gone," cried the old man, 'but come to the house, for young Hinton is here and wante to see you. Lucia saw the troubled look that came into Howland's face and hastily murmured : "Father wants me to marry him, but I won't; I'll marry you. Be sure and write often and don't stay so long," she pleaded, as she raised her face for a', fare- Well Thkeinm. ext morning old Marsden said to his daughter with an inquisitive look: "Young Hinton didn't stay long last night, did. he ? " No," answered Lucia, ' not very long."' "Did he ask you to have hint ?" added the old man. "Yes, father, he did," answered Lucia, "but I told him I couldn't." "Told hina you couldn't 1" screamed the old man. "Why could't ye 2" - " Because I don't love him," Raid the daughter, looking her father steadily in the eye. " Love him, Luce 1 I tell ye people don't marry for love. They marry to Make a good thing. Whole they get the worst of it it's like any other bad bargain ; but young Vinton has zcocvy and, Luce, you'd better change your mind and send him word that you like him well enough. I'll give you a good start, and you'll find out that you hems is pretty good old ded after all." Lucia. kissed her father, but replied: "Not him. I can uever marry hint." The yeah; crept slowly by and brought their usual rouurl of bright and clously days. Lucia hart gronn teller and more beautiful. Her ether was still es grasping as ever. "1 agree with you, Luce," he used to say, " there's no special hurry; but you deep them almost too quick ectinelaines, it aeons to me." One day he hobbled bath the room where Leda sat at Work and said in a severe, low Lone: "I hear that yon get letters from that Ang Howland, jsie true ?" "1 have received letteee from blaze Luoia replied, " and he ie doing very well, I understand." "1 don't pare how he is doing. That feller% die poor," growled the old ;Marie He went outeide ansi eat down on the menden bench. Pll see Cicely," said he, with a crafty look on his face. Cicely was the gitt who sorted and deelt out the mail at the, village post -office. Not long after this Lucite ceased receiving lettere with, a California postmark. Time passed and it was now nearly tory veers since Lucia and .Augus had stood at the garden gate and said good-bye. OM Marsden had fallen into is state of despond- ency so utterly abject that Lucia was some- times on the point of yielding to hie wishes, but she thought " wait a while longer; something leas happened or he'd never have broken his word." One day her father called her to him. He was unable to get about this house now, but lay propped up in hie chair all day with his eyes closed, a very unhappy old man. Lucia," he said, I'll make short work of it. The last investment I made I staked all and I lost. It was the first time, Luce, and youripoor father has mede many a bar- gain n his day, but this time has outdone them all. In a month from now we won't have a houee to cover our heads. I hoped this sickness might hurry me off, but I see it's going to give me time and I'll have to go to the poor -house, Luce, unless," and the old man looked at her pitifully, "union you save your old dad." "I'll work for you!" cried Lucia. "Von shall never go to the poorhouse." And she was more tender in the care of her father after that. One day as she stood near her favorite bed of flowers, sadly thinking how soon she would have to leave them, a voice broke the eilence of her meditations. "1 beg your pardon, but your flowers look very pretty and I had to stop to admire them," and looking up Lucia saw is tall, well-dressed gentleman standing at the garden gate. "I raise a great many flowers myself," era the gentleman, "and I always take an in- terest in them, but I live in a flower country, where they, grow much more luxuriantly than here. Lucia gave a startled look—but no; how foolish; it couldn't be he. Angus Howland could never have developed into such a handsome man, " I declare, Luce, you don't know me," said the gentleman, with a smile. "05, Ang I know you now, for you. speak with your old voice, but have been away a long time." "You. stopped writing, and I read in a California paper that you were married," said Angus, "but recently I learned that it was is false report, and I am here once more to ask you to be mine." "Father, this gentleman wishes to see you," said Lucia as she ushered Howland into her father's room. The old MEM opened leis eyes and murmured: " Well, have a. chair. "1 understand that you have suffered it misfortune," said the gentleman kindly. "The old man groaned. "I'll have to die in the poorhouse; there's no help for it." "It may not be so bad as that," said the gentleman. The old man turned on him fiercely. "What do you want with me, I'd like to know? Ain't it bad enough to be ruined, but a. lot of vultures have got to come and hover around, me before I'm dead ?" "1 have been investigating the matter," a id the gentleman, and] am sure that it is not so bad as you think, and here is evidence that you will not be turned out of your home at any rate," and he opened before the old man's eyes the cancelled mortgage. " The place is yours," said the gentleman, "and all your other pro- perty is safe, for I have been making in- vestigations." "Who are you," cried old man Marsden, "that comes at such a time and saves me from the poorhouse?" "It is not so bad as that," said the gen- tleman, sniffing, but by name is Angus Howland." The remaining few months of the old man's life worked a great change in his character. One day when the Autumn leaves were turning he called his children to him. " Goocleby, ' said he "1 am going. You are a good boy, Ang, and will make her happy," and he closed his eyes forever. —Chicago News. The Sultan's Harem. It is the ambition of every Turkish official to get his daughter into the Sultan's harem each occupant of which receives the title of Princess together with is large dower, a staff of ten servants, a carriage and fon; and last, but not least, the possibility of gaining influence over the Sultan and so raising her family in rank and power. The maintenance of the Sultan's harem, costs Turkey 30,000,000 gold roubles yearly (n3,000,000). It is a perfect nest of intrigue and scan- dal, of envy, hatred, malice and all un- charitableness. When one of the ladies leaves the harem to marry, and about 100 of them leave every year, she receives a dower ot £7,500. The vacant places, however, are quickly tilled up, so that the number of odalisques never falls below 300. The Fashionable Sleeve. The most fashionable sleeve of the hour is formed of two full puffs the first one (missing midway between the shoulder and elbow, the second finiehing at the elbow itself. Herefrom depends a deep flounce of old lace, shirred finely and forming an ex- aggerated "sabot." Some dresses have is globe or empire puff sleeve and a tight- fitting under " manehe." With this the lace flounce depends from the puff. Velvet sleeves, plain, beaded, glace or shaded, are also among tbe fads of the hour. They seem a trifle inappropriate with gowns of muslin, silk crepon and the like, but that does not in the leeet hinder them front being worn. an You Help Them Out? In the Indian camp on the Grande Ronde River, Wash., are seventeen marriageable Indian girls, some of whom want white men for husbands and shun the idee of marrying one of their own race. The father of one o these girls offers an inducement of 200 head of good horses to some young white man who will marry hie daughter. The old In- dian status that not any hoodlum of a white fellow will do, but he must be a. young man of good character and addrene and able to provide his vvife a good home. A Woman to be Reverenced. A Bath lady who has brought utha family of 17 children, 10 of whom are living, has decided to adopt a poor little orphan, who is having a rather bard time of it in the world. Kissam (to hie father-in-law, after the elopement and forgiveness)—I must thank you, Mr. Scadds, for facilitating my suit with your daughter. Scadds--Faeilitating it? Why, sir, I opposed it with all iny might. Kissain—Yee ; that's what made Blanche determine to marry me.