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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Times, 1915-10-7, Page 6GOLDEN KEY r ;The A dvOriiures of Led aid." ey the .Aetthor of "What He Gr e+^t Her."' CHAPTER XVI. I "Ridiculously easy! Told me overt'„ Ernestine Wendermott travelled! thing I asked and a lot more. If 1 back to London in much discomfort could Have got it all down in his own being the eleventh occupant of a, third. language it would have been positive - class carriage in a particularly un -1 ly thrilling. punctual and dilatory train. Arrived The sub -editor scribbled in silence at Waterloo, she shook out her skirts for a moment or two.:. He liad reach - with a little gesture of relief and ell an important point in his own ,started oft' .to walk to the Strand. work. His pen went slower, hesitated Half -way across the bridge die came for a moment, and then dashed o face to face with a tall, good-looking with renewed vigor. young man who was hurrying in the ""Read ;the first few sentences of opposite direction; He stopped short what you've got, he remarked. as he recognized her, dropped his 1 Ernestine obeyed. To ell appear - eyeglass, and uttered'a little exelama- s rice the man was engrossed in his tion of pleasure. I own work, but when she paused . he "Ernestine, by all that's delightful! nodded his head appreciatively. 1 anin to-day!"It 11 do! he said. "Don't try to i i luck She smiled slightly and gave 'him polish it. Give it down, and see that the proofs are submitted to me. her hand, but it was evident that this : ]Where's the sketch ?" meeting was not wholly agreeable to ! She held it out to him. For a mo - her. ment from his I don't see where the luck comes • work, land. took thee looked y opportunity to in," she answered. ``I have no time light a fresh cigarette. Then he nod- to waste talking to you now. I am , ded, hastily scrawled some dimen- „ y sions on the margin of the little draw Yo t will allow me,"he said hope,- ing and settled down again to work. fully, "to walk a little way with you? "It'll do," he said,., "Give it to I am not able to prevent it—if you Smith. Come back at eight to: look think it worth while," she answered. at our proofs after I've one with He looked down—he was by her thein. Good interview! Good sketch! side now ---in good-humored protest. , You'll do, 1\Xiss Wendermott;" Come Ernestine, he said, you ! She went out laughing softly. This musts t bear malice against Inc. Per-.. was quite the longest conversation haps I was a little hasty when I spoke' she had ever had with the chief. She so strongly about your work. I don't made her way to the side of the first like your doing it and never shall like: disengaged typist, and sitting in an it, lent I've said all I want to. You' easy chair gave down her copy, here wont let it divide us altogether, will ' and there adding a little, but leaving you." 1 it main] in the rough. She knew �s "For the present," she answered,' whose hand, with a few vigorous it occupies the whole of ray, time,: touches, would bring the whole thing and the whole of my thtiughts. . into the form which the readers. of "To the utter exclusio_., I suppose, , the Hour delighted in and she was he remarked, "of me?" quite content to have it so. The work She laughed gaily. was interesting, and more than an "My dear Cecil! when have I ever -Hour had passed before she rose and led you to suppose for a moment that put on her gloves. I have ever wasted any time thinking 1 "I am coming back at eight," she of you? said, "but the proofs are to go in to He was determined not to be annoy- Mr. Darrel! Nothing come in for me, ed, and he ignored both the speech and I suppose?" the laugh. The girl shook her head, so Ernest- y I inquire how you are get -ins walked out into the street. Then ting on?" she remembered Cecil Davenant and « "1 am getting on," she answered, his strange manner—the story which very well indeed. The editor is be- he was even now waiting to tell her. ginning to say very nice things to She looked at her watch and after a me, and already the men treat me moment's hesitation called a handsoni. just as though I were a comrade! It 81 Cupola Street,she told him. isso nice of them!" "This ispa little etravagant," she "Is it?"he muttered doubtfully. said to herself as the man wheeled "I have just finished," she con his horse round, "but to -day I think tinued, "the most important piece of work they have trusted me with yet, and I have been awfully lucky. I have been to interview a millionaire!" "A man!" "Ernestine," he said gravely, "1 ain She nodded. "Of course!" going to speak to you about your fa - "It isn't fit work for you," he ex- they!" claimed hastily. She looked up at him in swift sur - "Y ou will forgive me if I consider prise. myself the best judge of that," she "Is it necessary?" answered coldly. "I am a journalist, "I think so," he answered. "You and so long as it is honest work my won't like what I am going to tell sex doesn't count. If every one whom you! You'll think you've been badly I have to see is as courteous to me as treated. So you have! I pledged niy Mr. Trent hasbeen, I shall consider word, in a weak hour, with the others. myself very lucky indeed." To -day I'm going to break it. I think "As who?" he cried. it best." She looked up at him in surprise. "Well?" They were at the corner of he Strand "You've been deceived! You were but as though in utter forgetfulness told always that your father had died of their whereabouts, he had suddenly in prison. He didn't." stopped short and gripped her tight- "What!" ly by the arm. She shook herself free Her sharp cry rang out strangely with a little gesture of annoyance. into the little room. Already he could "Whatever is the matter with you, see signs of the coming storm, and Cecil? Don't gape at me like that, the task which lay before him seemed and come along at once, unless you 1 more hateful than ever. want to be left behind. Yes, we are "Listen," he said. "I must tell you very short-handed and the chief let me ! some things which you know in order go down to see Mr. Trent. He didn't to explain others which you do not expect for a moment that I should . know. Your father was a younger get him to talk to me, but I did, and son of extravagant parents, virtually he let me sketch the house. I am aw- • penniless and without the least caps - fully pleased with myself I can tell city for earning money. I don't blame him—who could? I couldn't The young man walked by her side ; earn money myself. If I hadn't got for a moment in silence. She looked it I daresay that I should go to the up at him casually as they crossed the bad as he did." street, and something in his face sur- ! The girl's lips tightened, and she erased her. I drew a little breath through her teeth. "Why, Cecil, what on earth is the Davenant hesitated. natter with you?" she exclaimed. 1 "You know all about that company He looked down at her with a new affair. Of course they made your eriousness. i father the butt of the whole this "I was thinking," he said, "how odd- ` although he. was little more than a !y things turn out. So you have been' tool. He was sent to prison for down to interview Mr. Scarlett Trent' seven years. You were only a child for a newspaper, and he was civil to ' then and your mother was dead Well you,., they looked at it—it was. how they put it to your father." "He consented?"" "Yes, he consented! He saw the wisdom of it for your sake, for the sake of the family, even for his own sake. The Earl settled an income upon Lim and he left England secretly oil the morning of his release, We had the news of his death only a wee] or two ago." She stood up, her eyes blazing, her hands clenched together. "1 thank God," she said, "that I have found •the courage to break away from those people and take a little of .ray life into my own hands. You can `tell thein this if you will, Cecil --my Iuncle Lord Davenant, your smother, and whoever had a say in this miser- able affair. Tell them from ane that I know the truth and that they are a pack of cowardly, unnatural old wo- n mete Tell thein that so long as I live I will never willingly speak to one of them again," "1 was afraid you'd take it like that,"he said dolefully. "Take it like that!" she repeated in fierce scorn. '"Row else could a wo- man hear sueh news ? How else do you suppose she could feel to be told that she had been hoodwinked, and kept from her duty and a man's heart very likely broken, to save the respectability of a worn-out old. family. Oh, how could they have dar- ed to do it? How could they have dared to do it?" "It was a beastly mistake," he ad- mitted. A whirlwind of scorn . seemed to sweep over her. She could keep still no longer. She walked up and down the little room. Her hands were' clenched,' her eyes flashing: "To- tell me that lie was dead—to let him live out the rest of his poor life in exile . ane! alone! Did they think that I didn't care, Cecil?" she exclaimed, suddenly turning and fac- ing him. "1 have always `loved my father! You may think that I was too young to remember him -I wasn't, I loved him always. When I grew up and they told me of his dis- grace I was bitterly sorry, for I lov- ed his memory—but it made no differ- ence. And all the time it was a weak, silly lie! They let him come out, poor father, without a friend to speak to him, and they hustled him out of the country. And I, whose place was there with him, never knew." "You were only a child, Ernestine. It was twelve years ago." "Child! I may have been only a child, but I should have been old enough to know where my place was. Thank God I have done with these people and their disgusting shibbo- leth of respectability." " "You are a little violent," he re- marked. "Pshaw!" She flashed a look of scorn upon him. "You don't under- stand! How should you, you are of their kidney -you're only half' a man. Thank Gocl my another was of the people! I'd have died to have gone smirking through life with a brick for a heart and milk and water in my veins! Of all the stupid pieces of brutality I ever heard of, this is the most callous and the most heart- breaking." "It was a great mistake," he said, "but I believe they did it for the: best." She sat down with a little gesture of despair. "I really think you'd better go t away, Cecil," she said. "You exas- perate me too horribly. I shall strike you or throw something at you soon. Did it for the best! What a miser- able whine! Poor dear old dad, to think that they should have done this thing." She buried her face in her handker- chief and sobbed for the second time since her childhood. Davenant was wise enough to attempt no sort of consolation. He leaned a little for- ward and hid his own face with the palm of his hand. When at last she looked up her face had cleared and her tone was less bitter. It would have gone hard with the Earl of East- chester, however, if he had called to see his niece just then. "Well, she said, "I want to know now why, after keeping silent all this time, you thought it best to tell me the truth this afternoon?" "Because," he answered, "you told. me that you had just been to see Scar- lett Trent!" "And what on earth had that to'do with it?" "Because Searlett Trent was with your father when he died. They were on an excursion somewhere up in the bush—the very excursion that laid the foundation of Trent's fortune." " o. on," she "Tell me all that I have earned it." CHAPTER XVII. you." , It 1 when the seven years were up, your ell, I don't see anything odd : relations and mine too, Ernestine, about that," she exclaimed impatient- ! concocted what I have always con- ly. "Don't be so enigmatical. If you've sidered an ill -begotten and miserably anything to say, say it! Don't look at selfish plot. Your father, unfortun- me�like an owl!" ; ately, yielded to them, for your sake. I have a good deal to say to you," t You were told that he had died in he answered gravely. "How long shall ; prison, He did not. He lived through you be at the office?" his seven years there, and when he "About an hour—perhaps longer." came out he did so in another name "I will wait for you!" and went abroad on the morning of "I'd rather you didn't. I don't want the day of his liberation." SPARTAN MOTHER WOULD GIVE them to think that I go trailing about "Good Heavens!" she cried. "And with an escort." now!" ALL HER SONS TO THE EMPIRE "Then may I come down to your "He is dead,,. Davenant answered flat? I have something' really im- hastily, "but only just lately. Wait a portant to say to you, Ernestine. It minute. You are going to be furious - does not concern myself at all. It is . ly angry. I know it, and I don't wholly about you. It is something blame you. Only listen for a moment which you ought to know." 'The scheme was .hatched up between "You are trading upon my curios- my father and your two uncles. I have ity, for the sake of a tea," she ! always hated it and always protested laughed. "Very well, about five ; against it. Remember that and be o'clock." 1 fair to me. This is how they reason -1 He bowed and walked back west- ed. Your father's health, they said,' wards with a graver look than usual was ruined, and if he lives the seven 1 upon his boyish face, for he had a task' years what is there left for him when before him which was very little to he comes out? He was a man, as you! his liking. Ernestine swung open the know, of aristocratic and fastidious; entrance door to the Hour, and pass- tastes. He would have the hest of ed down the rows of desks until she everything—society, clubs, sport. 1: reached the door at the further end Now all these were barred against marked "Sub -Editor." She knocked him. If he had reappeared he could I r. and was admitted at once. not have shown his face in Pall Mall, A thin, dark young man, wearing a or on the racecourse, and every mo- pinteiiez and smoking a cigarette, merit of his life would be full of hu - looked up from his writing as she en- miliations and bitterness. Virtually tered. He waved her to a seat, but then for such a man as lie was, life in 1 Engand was over. Then there was I you. You were a pretty child, and the; Earl had no children. If your father was dead the story would be forgot- ten, you would marry brilliantly, and ,. an ugly page e in the family B" y p g y history. would be blotted out. Thatwas how Gcried. that you know! this is wonderful!" (To be continued.) Not until about six 'Months after his marriage does a man begin to realize that courtship may be a pre- face to hardship. hat's hi Raffles and Flulfles. Many of the velour coats for cliil- dren of 10 or 12 years of age are. made with considerable fullness, the skirt portion being cut circular, with a straight thread in front and the back seam cut on a true bias. For juvenile wear, the broad belt remains good style. .A. stunning coat of two -toned plush m brown has its skirt part extremely full, the sleeves are set in' at the arm nye, and a standing collar of fitch comes up straight and snug about the throat like a bandage. Another eget is beaver trimmed upon a foundation of Jot re blue broadcloth, The belt is novel, as it is very wide under the arms, and narrows front and back. Flat, smoked pearl buttons are used. Wide -wale corduroy, trimmed with black skunk; is employed extensively. It wears well. and looks well, and what mare can mortal woman ask? Velvet will predominate this winter and faille will be strong. Short hooped petticoats are attach- ed to some of the abbreviated dancing frocks that have come from Bulloz. They produce a flaring silhouette that is very clancy and quaint. Tulle continues the best material for dancing gowns and designers have found that it is particularly beauti- ful when draped over metallic tissues. The new evening frocks are elaborate- ly trimmed with paillettes, and un- usual laces and embroideries. A. petticoat, which is gorgeous enough to be a frock itself, is made up of peaehblow silk, veiled in spang- led tulle. The effect of iridescent fish scale spangles, rosy -hued silk and white tulle is flowerlike and beauti- ful. Another fancy petticoat is made of jetted net over black pussy willow taffeta. The flounce is outlined in close quilling. A charming costume in Nile green taffeta has the base of the skirt caught up with ovals of pink roses and leaves, giving a scalloped effect to the hem. The short -waisted bodice is decorated with rosebuds—white straps of crystal beads go over the shoulder and end in tassels at front and back. There are very short sleeves of Nile green tulle and a large butterfly bow' with sash ends of tulle extends from the centre -back closing. An afternoon dress of black cru ,a has a princess effect, obtained by straight folds hanging from the bust nearly to he hem of the skirt, the fullness being held by a dull gilt girdle. A cuirass of taffeta is shrouded in crepe and headed by bands of dull gilt. Festooned crepe gives extra full- ness to the skirt. . A simple semi -mourning dress on, princess lines is of black crepe de chine with collar and cuffs of white organdie embroidered in black. A dress of striped poplin, brown and black, has an overdress effect shorter at the back than at the front. The sleeves and vestee are of crepe de chine. A model in white striped taffeta, brown and black, is cut with a very deep yoke empiecement front and back, but shortened very materially on the hips. A full, circular skirt joins the yoke and follows its -line with two rows of piping on the hem to accentuate the fullness and short- ness of the skirt. The chiffon drop sleeves have oversleeves of the silk. There are two styles of fur coats this year, the coat that fits and the coat that doesn't. Both ripple in godet folds below the waist. As for furs, two kinds are in vogue, caracul and Hudson seal, but this is only the first style feature of a fur coat, for they are to be trimmed with a contrasting fur this winter. The collar, which is a big, soft, high chok- er, into which one can sink the chin; the cuffs, which are wide bands about the long sleeves, and the bottom edge of the fur coat are made of a ' con- trasting fur. This contrasting fur on a Hudson seal 'coat is generally beaver, otter or nutria. An attractive boudoir in very pale his pen never stopped for a second. "Back, Miss Wendermott! Very *hat hat did you. get?" "Interview and sketch of the house," she 'responded briskly. "Interview by Jove! That' • „ s good!Nee he very difficult? seeehe se x:5.1. -lc -r -i e1414.,.3,-. 'v zEl to , J�se� l . la tielila, . .bore are Mr, :¢i, Ilainvtin ,?,.i.a:cr, Quebec, and two of his Pone, tilr('C cif uito;u ere with the colot's, ',Chci+e are four other sons and qts,,: of (i,c::c,> ha e.°'d -:'ti, The mother wr,ics that she wi41'tes : aft aide six were a,.�Ic, Cor. ,gel a..:d right for king, and country. it means irrepooa t..,`ha qY uah an. v- u ie0 Foods for Growing Poultry. • One of the most important things demanding the special attention of the poultry raiser at this season of the year is the matter 'of developing the young stock and of securing rapid, healthy growth. There are several items of care and management Which affect the growth of the young chicks but none is more important than in- telligent feeding, and while this is true, it is well to remember that food alone will not accomplish the desired result. Our remarks at this time will be confined to the question of feeding, but we cannot refrain from calling attention to the fact that feed ing is not the sole factor, as many people suppose, and who consequent ly do not get results because of lac] of attention to other details. The list of poultry foods is long and is very generally known. Briefly, it consists of all kinds of grain, whole and ground, including small grains, such as buckwheat, millet, kaffir corn, etc. In addition to thevarious grains, there is green food, such as grass, clover, alfalfa and all kinds of growing vegetation and all root vegetables. Animal foods form an- other important group, and under this head may be included all fors___ of insect life which is usaily acces- sible to fowls that have free range and the meat foods in the form of fresh meat scraps, which many poul- try raisers can procure at a reason- able cost. because readers of poultry literature have no doubt found certain combin- ations described and recommended as being the most satisfactory and pro- ductive of greatest results. They are therefore Confused in Their Ideas and do not know what course to fol- low. For the benefit of all such breeders and those who have not yet learned the facts, we wish to state that there is no one formula which can be said to be positively the best under anv and all conditinne has been said thus far applies to the food question in general, regardless of whether -he object be to obtain in young stock or for any other special c purpose. Feeding for growth requires differ- ent rations than would be the case if the object was to fatten fowls or to encourage egg production. The mis- take which most people make is to assume that flesh -producing foods, or rather fattening foods, are more de- sirable for growth than any others. They overlook the fact that growth means the development of bone and • Bowel Regulators. There are also various meat meals, beef scraps and concentrated meat foods on the market that are of value if procured and fed in a fresh condi- tion. Oil meal, linseed meal, cotton- seed meal, etc., are valuable only as occasional additions to the rations, and they serve principally as bowel regulators: Condiments and similar prepared foods are not necessary muscle quite as much as it does addi- tional flesh and especially fat. Young chicks intended for broilers or fries may be confined „and pushed to the limit with corn and other fattening rations, but much handling fits them only for table poultry, and they are ruined for ober purposes. The young stock should be given as much range as possible, and the poultry raiser should start his plans with that! thought in mind. A plentiful supply of green food should be within reach, and if it is not growing in the runs or yards, it should be supplied from the list of articles previously men- tioned. Good General Formula. Readers who prefer to have a regu- lar formula and who do not wish to be bothered with trying to rovid and frequently are harmful in their changing variety will find the follow - effects. Skimmed milk, buttermilk, ing a most excellent combination: and other milk products are of value. ' Cracked wheat, 26 parts; pinhead The beginner in poultry raising is oatmeal, 15 parts; millet seed, 10 bewildered when he starts to investi- parts; granulated charcoal, 5 parts; gate the feeding question and is con- chick size grit, 10 parts; buckwheat, fronted with the long list of . avail- 5 parts; rape seed, 5 parts; broken able foodstuffs. He is apt to become rice, 5 parts; cracked peas, 5 parts, discouraged if he gains the impres- and ground beef scraps or other 'meat sio- that he m ust have everything in the list, which is, of course, impos- sible and undesirable. Each section of the country has its own local con- ditions, and no natter where the poultry raiser is located, he can find sufficient variety in the foods at hand to serve his needs. He should not be misled into thinking that then is a set formula comprising a few special feeds, which is better than any other combination that can be secured. We make that statement meal, 5 parts. Some of the above articles are not easily obtainable in all localities, and the mixture should be made with the ingredients at hand and considering cost. A dry mask consisting of ground wheat, corn and oats may be kept in hoppers where the chick can go to it at will. A little i e granulated charcoal and cottonseed! meal make a desirable addition to the! dry mash; the former sweetens the crop and aids digestion and the lat- ter is a good regulator. blue crepe de chine has wide, deep armholes, edged with fringe. The fichu shawl collar is also edged with fringe, which follows down one side of the front opening. On the upper front, over the shoulders, and across the back there is a decorative design in rope silk embroidery of the same color. WILL TJSE PRUNING (KNIFE. British Government Will Cut Down Expenses. That the British Government actu- ally means business in its inaugura- tion of a national campaign of thift is proven by the fact that, when, in the House. of Lords, a resolution was moved in favor ofeconomy in public expenditure --the mover, Lord Mid- dleton, sharply criticising many im- portant items -the Government, 'in- stead of resenting the action, actually accepted the resolution and made the vote in its favor unanimous. Lord Lansdowne, a. prominent member of the Government, while deelaring that the first rush of preparation for war meant extravagance and loss, yet ad- mitted frankly that there were ways in which present . expenditures could be curtailed, and promised that the re- solution in favor of economy should bear early fruit in the way • of real economies. It is pointed out by the Economist, one of the greatest au- thorities on financial questions in the world, that the expenditure of the Government has immensely increased on many new services, while old ser- ,viees, on which economies might be expected, call -for just as much money as ever. The wisdom of much of the new expenditure is sharply questioned and the use of the pruning knife to bring the whole tree of public expen- diture down to the requirements fixed by present conditions is strongly re- commended. sr. MOLASSES AS MUNITIONS. Large Quantities Wanted for, Making Explosives. There has been an unprecedented demand in the United States recently for blackstrap molasses. It is. needed in making alcohol and is part of a for- mula for the nanufactere of powder. A Cincinnati dealer in sweets placed an order for ten tanks of 8,000 gal- lons each, or a total of 80,000 gallons of this blackstrap grade of Cuban molasses that is to be used by a large powder concern in the making of ex- plosives for war purposes. The price of blackstrap molasses has doubled since the orders began pouring in from the powder mills. This is the third large order: that has been placed by the dealer within a few days. As to where the powder is to be used he does not know, only that he also has received other orders for future delivery, and the sales are be- ing made to several powder manufac- turers not only near Cincinnati, but in other parts of the "country. One baby out of five dies before it is a year old, Over one-half of all the women in England ,between the ages of fifteen and forty-five are unmarried, SOLDIERS AND SWEETHEARTS MANY MARIIAGES HASTENED BY CALL TO THE FRONT, British People Determined to See the War Through to the Bitter End. The other day I took up II. G. Well's very clever story, "Anne Ver.+ onica." It is a story, as its readers know, of the revolting daughter, writes T. P. O'Connor. All the unrest which finds its vent in the militant suffragist movement, in the works of the feminists with their defiance of the conventions of religion and of so- ciety for centuries; all these things find their symbol and their expression in this daring and brilliant 'stony: Though I was deeply interested;' I found it hard several times not to throw the book down. This world of soft emotions, of the eternal feminine, somehow or other, seemed to me re- mote and unreal at a time when every clay I was reading of the bodies of young, and often beautiful, human be- ings being torn to bleeding and tor- tured rags. Blind men whom I have seen at the Dunstan House—which was organized by C. Arthur Pearson, the journalist, who is himself blind, and lent by Otto Kahn—meet you in the street; hien stumping on one leg pass you; At Hospital Windows or on hospital verandas you see pale - faced men with head still bandaged; everywhere, even in the busy streets of London, you come across these re- minders of the horrors and sufferings of war. What time is there amid such mementoes to think of the soft alliances of life? And yet at no time is one more re- minded of the eternal feminine and the irresistible mating of human be- ings than at this very moment, Na- ture's instinctive tendency' to the pre- servation of the race asserts itself fiercely during the war, which will kill off so many of the bravest and the best, Everywhere the young officer or the young soldier is to be seen with his • sweetheart. Pathetic figures hey frequently make, for the girls often seem as if they ought still to be in short frocks, with baby faces, and curling, fair hair, and peach blossom cheeks. They seem to be school girls who ought not yet to know anything beyond speculation and dreams of the mysteries of life. But they and their sweethearts snuggle up to each other in train, in street car, in parks, in theatres, in the street, and they ars off to the church or the Registry Ola Tice the moment it is announced that the man has to go to the war. People respect this perennial spring of hu- man hope and destinies. Clinging Like Love Birds. The other day, travelling back from Harrowgate, a soldier and hit- sweetheart—she looked little morlf than a child—were separated in the crowded carriage. A man immediate- ly got up and surrendered his seat, and he two were once more at each other's side, clinging to each other like love birds. It was all very human and very sad and very touching, all the more touch - ng to me at the minute because my travelling companion was an old Scotch gentleman who was rushing back from Harrowgate to his daugh- er. Taking out the London Times, lie pointed out to me the name of her husband, his son-in-law, in the list of the killed. I tried him on the ques- tion I have put to so many bereaved parents since this war began, as a test of the spirit of the nation: "Do you feel as strongly as ever," I asked, "that we must go on with this war until we have won?" "Marc than ever," was the 'reply. Then, without any manifestation of the pain in his heart, he went on to talk of other things. I have ' never received any other answer, even from those whose only child's death in the war had taken all the light out of their lives and left them in ever -enduring darkness. GERMAN CUPID. t Surplus Royalties, Wedded in Balkans, ° Help Fatherland. It has been pointed out that how- ever unsatisfactory German diplomacy may be, as marriage brokers and king purveyors the Germans are unmatch- ed. It is especially in the Balkans that this Teutonic marriage broking is seen at its best. The royal families of all the Balkan States, except. Ser- bia and Montenegro, are German by origin or marriage. The King of Ru- mania is a Hohenzollern of the minor branch, the Queen of Greece is a sis- ter of the Kaiser himself, the King of Bulgaria comes from the house of Saxe-Cobourg and Gotha, and the Queen is a Princess of Reuss. The cornering of the marriage mar- ket is explained by the large number of princes whom Germany always his•;,,: to dispose of, and the fact has not ^ .. been without its influence on the pal. icy of the States concerned, as the. obstinacy of the late (King of Rumania and the self-assertion of the present King of Greece have shown. ' Some maChlne-glt$ have a firing - power of over a thonsand shots a , minute.'