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.'