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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1909-8-12, Page 2NOTA:.:!;; AND COMMENTS it has become the fashion among British .jingoes and scaremongers i l thei. to denounce v plant y Enghsl passion for sport, . The English man's home is supposed to be open to the Gorman invader because the latter has been drilling, toiling, ciplining himself and learning to ehcot, fly and what not, while the Briton has been playing ping-pong and composing Limericks, Unfer- tunately for the British jingoes, stern, scientific and methodical Germany has of late awakened to the necessity of sport for the main- tenance of physical tied mental health, and: many of her best edu- cators and statesmen have been preachingthe gospel of less mid- night oil and snore outdoor exer- oise. The kaiser, it is reported, has directed the inclusion of foot- ball in the military exercises, and this will seem a surprising fact to many, It is not, however, an iso - kited phenomenon. Sport and ex- ercise have been advocated vigor- ously by the thoughtful friends of the German school child. Tho over- work, the nervousness, the increase of suicide and of melancholia and other diseases tending to self-de- atruetion, which have marked the wonderful progress of education, eneral and technical, in Germany, have v beengravelyis discussed. .be remedies proposed are various, but among them is the cultivation of tealthy, clean sport among all classes. and all ages. A recent magazine article gave facts showing that the upper ele- ments of Germany have been free - imitating England in this direc- tion and learning to play the fav- orite British ,games. The estab- lshment of athletic grounds and re- oreation centres in all great cities has been urged at meetings of edu- cators and in the popular press. Perhaps the English scaremongers, who see nothing but decay and blue ruin staring them in the national face—invasion, destruction, slav- ery—will cheer up when they hear that even the kaiser is a convert to sport. Football, without abuses, Is certainly good for body and tem- per, but golf, tennis, cricket, hunt- ing, walking are also good forms of sport and recreation. Ant. Ger- many, we may be sure, with her ha- bitual thoroughness, will take to them all, or to such of them as she has neglected. SENTENCE SERMONS. The noblest work often lies near- est. Only a putty life is afraid of be- ing worn out. The battle without goes as goes the battle within. Duty has a stern face only when viewed askance. Gifts to God can never make up for thefts from men. He who honestly seeks to save an- other finds himself. has message never a messy a who does not know how to Iisten. The wastes of love bring greater riches than the wisdom of greed. Lying lips are none the better for working in a prayer meeting. A man's soul is to be measured by his sense of the souls of others. You will not be able to rest in heaven if you practice resting here, No duties are better done than those we do without thinking of duty. Where every one has an axe to grind there will be little hewing to the line. You cannot become one of the tools of the infinite if you flee from the anvil. No advantage is smaller than that gained by taking advantage of a friend. The man who always does what he wants is rarely wanted for what he does. The best evidence of loyalty to truth is liberality enough to give all truth a chance. It's no use talking about the peace of Clod if your life is a pro- voent.imi to your neighbors. The man who is only marking time is nmolt likely to be singing about marching to Zion, One trouble with the habitually crooked manis that he never knows which way he is turning. Some are interested deeply in cross bearing,but only as long es some on elseis doing it. Some folks think they are rest- ing in theirfaith because they al- ways fall asleep in church. It is not strange . that men lase the faculty of reverence when they etc all their worshiping before a dnirror. He—"They tell me you're great tt g-ueesing a nguono rums,'" She— Well, rather good, He— Her e s dine for you: If I were to ask you to marry me, what would you Stay?" She'»',r,sk and find out." ++1-4+++++h++4+++4 h 4, Theu dr eu 4. Richard Mrd Nartlaed. k+++4444-4 ++++++++-+++++# Edward Lavendale looked up from the drawings on his desk, intrioate, rather meaningless drawings to the uninitiated eye, and fixed his in- ward gaze upon some wonderful building, solid in stone, its deli- cate lines eoneeating its massive strength, storey and wing and gal- lery, complete from turret to cellar, perfect in design and execution, an imagined masterpiece seen in a day- dream by a gifted architect, He camp back to the realities with some slight feeling of annoyanee at the interruption, as his elerk enter - «1 and placed a pard on the desk before him: "Mr. Ashton Lane," Edward knew the name as that of a man who was a somewhat trouble- some admirer, and at one time an unsuccessful suitor, of the woman he was himself to marry ---Joyce Maitland; but he had never met him, and wondered now what he 'could wish to see' him about. The caller entered the room smil- ing and suave, a big, well-built man —a man with a strong personality. He bowed pleasantly to Edward, who acknowledged his salutation and waited for him to state his er- rand. "It is rather a strange business whieh has brought me here, Mr. Lavendale," he began, placing his hat down and accepting the chair which Edward offered him, "And what is its nature, Mr. Lane'!" Edward wondered at the gravity of the other's tone—won- dered exceedingly. "It relates to the murder of Rich- ard Maitian'," Lavendale started, and a sharp exclamation of surprise broke from bis lips. A month ago Joyce Maitland's father hadbeenkilled under most mysterious circumstances—murder- ed, He had retired to his study one night after dinner, and had been found there the next morning stab- bed to the heart by an unknown assassin, who, it was supposed, bad made his entrance into the room and his exit therefrom through a large French window opening upon the garden. The tragic affair had, of course, been investigated by both official detectives and private inquiry agents, the latter employed by Mrs. Maitland, but no light whatever bad been thrown upon the murder, so far at any rate. Mr. Maitland had been a singu- lar, self -immersed man, of cold, iso- lated disposition—a man who had no love to give, a frigid man, hold- ing himself aloof from wife and child, whose natural affection he had frozen and repelled. Therefore his death, apart from the attend- ant horrors of its nature, had left no great gap in the lives of either. "Will you tell me what it is you bave discovered?" Edward asked the question in lev- el tones which betrayed little emo- tion. Mr. Lane's eyelids flickered over his bold oyes for a moment. "I am afraid that my discovery will be an unpleasant one for you to hear, Mr. Lavendale," he re- sponded, gravely. "In the first place, perhaps I should ask you whether you are aware that be- tween Mr. Maitland tl andour own father there was a deep, though un guessed at, enmity?" Edward sat back in his chair, a frown of surprise and annoyance settling upon his forehead, ponder- ing over this curious and some- what sinister linking together of the two men's names. "I know that my father and the dead man both objected to a mar- riage between Miss Maitland and myself," he said, coldly; "but as to any enmity between them, I was not even aware that they had ever met. My father, as perhaps you have heard, has of late years been,a recluse, seeing no one, shutting himself away from the world." "Yet what I tell you is the truth," returned Mr. Lane. "They met many years ago, these two men, when both were young. One wronged the other—yes, your fa- ther suffered greatly at the hands of Richard lieeitland, suffered in the first instance by the less of a woman whom he loved—a woman whose heart Maitland won away from him, then tossed aside, a toy whose value passed with its pos- session. And then a second time he. robbed him, when by strange chance both men met abroad, at one of those mining townships which seem to spring up in a single night, places set down in the midst of a plain, in the wastes of the world. Quite how he robbed him I could not say. In some way he cheated loungers about the station at Rev - him out of a claire, a rich yielding exsdale, and by the ticket eoliec- elaim, worth a small fortune; and tor, who saw him pass through the a. third time also he robbed him— platform barrier. Such outside and the last time, Your father had in- independent evitlence es this, to - vested a large sum of money in a gather with this letter, must surely eompany promoted by Richard establish your father's guilt." Maitland, although Mr. Lavendale Lavendale raised his burning, was unaware that the other had haggard eyes, anything to do with it. The con ",Suppose this is true," he mut- patty collapsed: You know this, of tared, "nothing could be done to course?" my father." Edward nodded, "Yes," he re- "They will not hang your father, plied, "I know it ism well ; for the ' eIr, Lavendale. lint a criminal lu- loss of this money, the heist part me i' ,ia;lee, 1c'l lie rein :el ynu, of his fortune, has helped to rub try i:> very deferent from being at, Jy, halting at every few words, "AI• father of hit reason, for even mow, at this very hour, he lives in a a • I h n ed p tom-froop world of his own." Ashton Lane shook his head slow' - i J "You think i.t was t hi 'shattered yourtether's teas= 1" he said. "I fear that.it was a shock far more serious," Suddenly Edward put ep his hand, A curious dignity had come into his young fact, hardening its lines. "Let me hear what it really is yon have Como to relate," he said, rn a'firm, insistent voice., Mr. Lane smoothed his hands to- gether for a element. "Put plainly, he responded at last, "the discovery which I have made is this. You will naturally feel indignant,' you will naturally refuse to believe that anything so unlikely could, have happened. Yet tee truth remains that Mr 'Mait- land was killed by your own fa- ther. Yes—his was the hand to slay an old enemy." Edward sprang to his feet with pallid face and staring eyes, His hands were tighly clenched, and for a moment he looked as if he must fling himself upon the other, Forc- ing the lie down his throat. Then, with a self-mastery ivhioh he had acquired at younger age than most men, he sat down ones more. "I think you can hardly know what you are saying," he replied, quietly. But Ashton Lane smiled confidently, "I have prod of what I have told you—every proof." He also spoke in calm tones. "I can give you your father's exact movements upon that particular night, since ascertained. He took train from Paddington to Riversdale—a place, as you know, about ;two miles from Mr, Mait- land's house—and walked from the station, reaching bis destination at about half -past nine. Further cal- culations convince me that he en- tered Mr. Maitland's study ten min- utes later, and, as you know, medi- cal evidence names ten o'clock as being the hour when the fatal blow was struck. Your father returned home at about six the following morning, bearing signs of having tramped many miles, and with a stoned upon his head, the result probably of a fall, Instinct alone nmst have guided his footsteps, for iu a few hours he, had been bereft of reason, and has remained in that state ever since. That is my story." "A most probable ane. Your proofs, sir; your proofs." Edward Lavendale felt that he was rapidly losing his temper. The cool effrontery with which the man had brought his amazing charge against his father—his father, up- on whom already a deep affliction lay—stirred hie blend. "My proof is here." Mr. Ash- ton Lane took from an inside pock- et, a long envelope, from which he drew a folded sheet of paper. "This is an original letter," he added, "I trust to your honor, Mr. Laven- dale." The latter bowed his head. He glanced at the paper, and felt a coldness steal through his heart, a sudden chill run like ice through bis veins as he read the lint writ- ten there—lines in murdered Rich- ard Maitland's hand—a letter that was not to be dismissed as a for- gery—a glance showed him that. The letter was addressed to Ash- ton Lane, who had been a friend of the dead man's --one whom Mait- land would have appreciated as a son-in-law in preference to the man whom Joyce had chosen. In this letter Maitland wrote that he was in danger of his life, which had been threatened by Robert Laven- dale a man who had been former- ly a friend of his, and one whom he admitted be had grievously wronged—and went on to state that, in the event of his sudden death under suspicious circumstances, he klesired that Ashton Lane should investigate it with the object of discovering whether Robert Laven- dale had had anything to do with it. Edward placed the letter down at last, dazed by those written words which formed so terrible an indict- ment against his father—his father charged by a dead man. Then he stirred uneasily in his chair, and glanced sharply into Ashton Lane's big, confident features, "This letter means little," he said desperately, "Mr.. Maitland merely records a suspicion that my father night have sought to injure him. A suspicion is no proof." Mr. Lane shrugged his shoulders. "In the face of the crime which im- mediately followed I think you must }allow that suspicion becomes al- most proof positive," he said. "Besides," he added, "I have made inquiries of my own in the neigh- borhood, with the result that your father has been identified by bis photograph, of which I have pos- sessed myself, by two or three horse with e pleasant keeper -eon- anion Ts 1' o 1 will nothing . f the a t pY g shame of it, the stigma, t aty will For ever elieg toyouname, if this is mads pubiie,, ddI+ldw sqSuuare inenly the fateard, looked Lane "What is your purpose in coming to me?" he demanded. "You tell me that nil this is true. If you are in a position to prove it, why do Yoe not carry your information tee theroper quarters?" "I have my reasons, of course; no sensible man acts witheut,them, T am prepared to keep silence with regard to my knowledge of your father's guilt—conditionally," Edward nodded grimly, "I thought we should come to that," he said.Pray tell ane what those conditions are., "They are soon told. Under' the circumstances you will, of course, give up all thought of snaking Miss Maitland your wife. You must leave the way clear fox me. That is all," Edward whitened to the lips. Darkness had ooine suddenly upon all his life, and every star was blotted out. A veil reated,pver the rosy face of Hope—she was shroud- ed like one who mourns; weeping and alone. Yet what could he do'1 He must resign Joyce, There was no other way. * #- a, * * "But surely you will give me some reason? Edward, you stay that there must be an end to our en- gagement. But can one put an end to love? Not that is the hard thing —the impossible thing." Joyee Maitland spoke in falter- ing tones. Her lovely faee was very pleading,her eyes were filled with tears. dward looked at her with wistful pity. "Joyce!" His voice shook as he pronounced her name. He paused a moment, then added, slowly, "Dear, it is not because I -love you less, don't think that, for it isn't true, and yet, perhaps it would be letter if you did believe it, for, oh, my sweet, we shall never' be any- thing at all to each other. You must be free to choose someone else," ways heliad been callous and hear- lesbut lhoped x Wightitmove hi m yet, "I went to the back of the horse, for I thought he might not see me. ul s G i an x i£ L went to the front, and came upoti an open, liatghted windhoaow, "Peering into this room I saw two mon there, talking in raised voices; then ane of thou). lifted .his arm, I taught a Yash of steel, hgrouneard a, low groan, and the elder man—llfaitlend---fell heavily to the d, "Without thought al the cense quences--for I am no coward, though an old man --I made my way into the room, bent on eapturiug this oold-blooded assassin. Fie looked up at -ray approach with a face of fear, and before I could call out es move was upon me, with a tiger -spring, He dealt me a ter- rible blow upon the head; ant that is all I remember: I suppose he must have carried me from the house, leaving me in a lane to die, or believing I was already dead. "Yes, it all Gomes back to me now. I fancy T must have lain there unconscious for some hours, and then,'somehow, have found my way home. My mind was a com- plete blank, the result of that blow, and only gradually has the mem, ory of things returned to me—ob- scured shapes slowly assuming tang- ible forms," Edward looked at him with flush- ed, excited face, and eyes that had lost their despair. "Oh, fathert how I have wronged you 1 But this man who attacked you this man.who murdered Rich- ard Maitland—what was he like?" "A tall, big inan—a fair man, with piercing blue eyes. I can see his face distinctly before me. I shall never forget it. The relent- less, savage gleam in the cold, sparkling eyes, the heavy features working in such savage fury," "Ashton Lane! Edward mut- tered the name, then he started up. Action must be taken and Joyce protected; whether she heel grown to care for this man or not — pro- tooted from one who had killed her father. "Edward !" She turned to him, * a * at her eyes still with an appealing Joyce Maitland paced restlessly light in them. "We cannot part up and down her sitting -room. Her like this, You love me, you say—" face was pale and her eyes hope - she checked herself and drew away less. She felt that if she paused in from him, seeing nothing for a ewe that nervous walk she must lose meat, her vision blurred by tears, 'self-control altogether. She had "I should be proud," she mutter agreed to a sacrifice -a sacrifice ed; "I ought to play a part,- call that she wag being forced into fel - upon my pride, and tell you that filling with tyrannous haste, for to- 1 feel indifferent, that it does net day she was to be married—married matter. But it woudn't be the at a registry office—and even now truth; for, Edward, it does matter she was waiting for the bridegroom, to me, it matters very much. Is waiting with mcich the same feel- there some secret trouble that is log as the condemned wretch awaits blighting your life, Edward, some . the coming of the executioner. terrible grief? Won't you tell it Suddenly the door opened, but me? I who have shared in your she dare not look round, lest he joy, let me share now in your ser- should read the horror and revul- row. Or perhaps you think a girl sion in her eyes. She stood there wouldn't understand, but, oh, dear immovable until she felt a pair of love, you don't know me if you 'hands placed upon her shoulders, think that. I would go with you to and at the torch she quive): cl, not the end of the earth, content to eith horror, but with joy—magical dwell in a desert, for love would joy. be with us, love that gives joy to "Joyce!" She turned round to'. lift." find that it *as Edward Lavendale, "Joyce, Joyce, pity me; do not "Joyce, you love me still ? Tell me tempt me. Be cold to me, be hard, you love me still!" a woman of iee, chill me with a She could not speak for a mo - frown, sting me with reproaches, went, her lips trembled. for I am weak, yes, very weak, and "I am going to marry Ashton your words melt all resolve within Lane," she said at last. me; they leave me at your mercy." He shook his head. "Ashton Suddenly Joyce put out her hands Lana has fled the country. There —cold hands. isa warrant out for his arrest, but "Edward," she spoke, in trembs he was warned, and had a goad ling tones, "it must be as you -wish. .start. I do not think he will ever i ' You. have some reason which c s h id- be found, and so your father's den from me, yet a reason --that murder must go unavenged," must be all -sufficient." "What hail he to do with that?" He took her hands. Her voice had a sharp, excited ring. "Good-bye." His voice was life- ".It was year pier father'Edward less. Her lips trembled, but she —yes, his was the hand which struck could make no answer. She seem- down mine. It was to save you all ed to have lost all power of speech, knowledge of this that I have con She bent her head in silence. He seated to marry Ashton Lane. gave one look at her, a long, fare-. Surely you did not believe that I well look, then he made his way could care for him?" to the door without pausing, with- "I was in despair, Joyce, not out daring to pause, and passed knowing what to think until my fa- fromthe room. * * * ther regained his sanity, and was * able to clear up everything that Edward Lavendale was true to happened upon the night when your his resolve, and kept away from father was stabbed. He witnessed Joyce Matiland. But he could not the deed --saw that it was Ashton kill love. He longed for her every Lane who killed him. The latter, hour of .every day he lived. And from your own words, made out the shock was great When he read, tc you that unless you married him three months later, of her engage- he would bring this charge against '-rent to Ashton Lane. So soon. any father, just as previously he "Frailty, thy name is woman." had forced: me to give you up by Ho murmured the bitter words using the same argument." aloud and "passed into his father's "But why did he kill my father ? room. The one comfort of his life What was his motive?" in these dark days was the fact that "The man has had . an infamous the cloud which bad rested upon bis career in the, past, and your father father's brain seemed to be lifting, must have discovered it, so that his and there were intervals now when friendship for Ashton Lane had un - his words were quite lucid, his mind dergone a change. Hot words quite clear. Edward found him in passed between them—ending in that eondition to -day, and some your fathers death, irresistible impulse bade hint quos- A shiver passed through the girl's tion his father concerning the slim body; events of that fatetui night.' "Oh, mine have been such amp - "Father," he said, in low, ear- ty days, Edward, since you left me rest tones, "strive to remember —such dreadful days." what happened upon that night Ile held her close in his arms, when you went to Riversdale; strive close to his beating heart. with all your will" "We have all the future before' Mr. Lavendale pressed his hands lis," he whispered, "andit is shin- against bis brows, the wandering ing with hope."—London Tit -Bits, eyes 'becoming more steady. "I meant to appeal to Richard Maitland," he murmured, in tones that were almost indistinct. "I had threatened him once, but those were empty words', and now I would try milder words, begging him to give up this money which it seemed to melte had stolen, the money lost in his company." I e spoke slow - DODGING WORIt., "It's too hot to do housework " sighed the wifie, , 'I know it is." "Lot's go and spend a. few 'dee* with the Browse et their summbx pottage,. Thpy'11 bo tinkled to death to have us,' 11IrI?:74UD410 U1Y11 IN 11A.etS. To boo v 3 -- Sn t- Bound is l ad .fo be lilizzartl.11onnd is Worse. When the story of lieutenant Sbaekleton s dash for the South Pole comms to he told in full, it will probably be found that the worst time the explorers experienced was when they were obliged to lace themselves up in their' steeping-, bags during the three days' blizzard of January, 7th, Still and lath, They were then high up err the inland lee at an elevation exceed- ing Sten thousand feet above sea level, the temperature was 72 de- grees below freezing, and the wind blew et seventy miles an hour. What the combination of these three conditions means, is only ful- ly understandable by those who have experienced them, or some- thing like them. Cold alone men can stand. Indeed, there are plan- ! ty lan-!ty of instances of lower tempera, tires having been borne than that encountered upon this particular occasion, Add to intense cold other disadvaatages—such as the rarefoo- tion of the air incidental to high altitudes, and a most distressing condition is created; but it is still bearable. But when, in addition, the wind blows with greater than hurricane force, then all progress is at an end for . the time being. To attempt to face such a wind under such circumstances means certain and speedy death. Small wonder that the explorers were frost-bitten even in their fur sleep- ing -bags, The extraordinary thing is that they should ever have emerg- ed from them alive. For nothing like it has ever be- fore been survived by mortal man. Perhaps the nearest approach to it was when Captain Scott was bliz- sard-bound on the inland ice -cap of Antarctica during the last British South Polar expedition. But then the temperature did- not fall be. low fifty degrees of frost, and the wind blew at forty miles an hour en an average. Even under these circumstances they gave themselves up for lost. What, then, must have been the feelings of Slaaokleton and his Com panious, with the temperature 22 degrees lower and the wind thirty miles an hour faster? SHELTERS FOR AI tsneS. 'Erection of Garages for Dirgible Balloons Being Conshlereil. The English Government le now taking up the question of the pro- vision of shelter where airships can Le kept in safety when they -.de- scend. Mr, McKenna, in reply to Mr. Arthur Fell in the House of Com- mons recently stated that plant and estimates bad been considered for the erection of garages for dir- igible balloons, and the question of obtaining suitable siteswas un- der review. He added twat it was not proposed at present- to. erect Admiralty: shelters. Mr. Haldane also announced that particulars are now ready for ob- taining tenders for the erection of a shed to house a .large dirigible balloon, and it is hoped shortly to place the order. Germany has already paid great attention to this matter, and has at present either completed or is completing a line of airship shel- ters that extends from Friedrieh- shafen on the North Sea. These shelters are indispensable fax making experiments with air- ships. It is next to impossible to hold down a large vessel in the open. if a storm rises aftershe descends. The accident to Count Zeppelin's airship and our own Neill Seeun- dus, and the total loss of the French La Petrie proved this conclusive- ly. CATS CATCH FISH. i'elines 'Would Make Fishermen Take Notice. At the Union street secondbridge a t North Adams, in the Berkshire Hills, Massachusetts, nearly every night about 7 o'clock two young cats give an exhibition of catching fish, which would cause the most ardent fishermen to sit up and take notice. I'oi the last two weeks a crowd of people has watched the oats. In just the position they would take to catch a bird they crouch upon the edge of the stream and as a fish comes in sight with one jump either one or both land upon it, not in the least minding the clucking that they often receive, and with feet and mouth break the neck of the fish back of its head. Hauling their prey to the bank they soon disappear, proudly carrying it away for a splendid feed, for eats like fish even better than meat. Many persons have seen them catch a fish six or eight inches long, and one nigh last week Officer Nicholas Walsh while on the Union street beat caw the two cats work- ing together catch a fish nearly a foot long. Both cats seem to en- joy the sport. THE BAD BOY'S RETORT, "Does your ,father' know you smoke, little boy?" asked the in- quifive strap er. tr Peel na " ep tl' the bad boy. "He doesn to k up his cigars." ' DANDELION 4.5 A BARONET' , 4lovot Leaves When Bain is U. ing—Pno;r Atesn's Weather Glai .. The dandelion is a dandy baro meter, ane of the commonest and ' most reliable. It is when the blooms have seeded and are in the fluffy, feathery eondition that the weather prophet faculties comp to the foree. In fine weather the ball expands to the full, but when rain approaches it shuts like an embroi- ls.. If the weather 18 inclined to be showery it keeps shut all the time, only opening when the danger from the wet is past. 'The ordinary clow'- and all its varieties including the trefoil and the shamrock, are also barometers, When rain is coming the leaves shut together like the shells of an oyster and do not open again until fine weather is assured, For a day or two before rain comes their stems swell to an appreciable ex- tent and stiffen so that the leaves are borne more uprightly than, usu- al, This stem swelling when rain is expected is a feature of many flowering grasses; The fingers of which the leaves of the barse chestnut are made up keep flat and fanlike so long as fine weather is likely to continue. et the coming of rain, however, they droop as if to off'eiselee,ss resistance ti the weather. The spark et pimper- nel is nioknamed the "or man's weather glass" or. wind pe and opens its flowers only in fie wea ther. As soon as rain is in the. i ar it shuts up and remains closed "thee, til the shower ')r storm is over. common garden convolvulus crumbles up its delicate blossoms within the space of half an hour if raindrops are on the way, and it keeps them thus until the bad wea- ther has passed. SOD ROUSES. Feature of Prairie Life Which Does' ._;,, Not Mean Poverty. If you read that a family lives in a sod house you may conclude that poverty compels it; but this is not true on the Canadian prairies, where sod houses are the advance agent of prosperity. The homesteader who obtains a slice of that rich wheat land doesn't ;sail to build a regular house be- fore starting to grab riches from the soil. Even if he were minded to build he would have diffieulty in doing it, for there is •no lumber handy. So it is better to wait un- til the locomotive catches up. If you start out from any of the towns which are springing up al- most overnight in the fertile stretches of Saskatchewan or Al- berta you will strike first well or- dered -farms and substantial houses, but if you get away ten miles or more the sod houses will begin to appear. It is not unusual to see signs luxury about these sod houses. Th are comfortable abiding places, co in summer and warm in winter OBEYED ORDERS. Squire Roberts had had a fries, to visit him on business, and wa very much annoyed when his wife cameto ask him what he wanted for dinner. "Go mercy ; let us alone 1" impati- ently said the squire. Business detained hisfriend till dinner -time, and the squire urged him to remaise To the surprise of both, they itit a large bowl of sa Mir wife y, began'i ,� q V ue . r "My dear," said the squirt, "where are the meats?" "You didn't order any," coolly answered the housewife. "I asked what you would have, and you said `Lettuce alone!' Here it is ." The friend burst into a laugh, and the 'squire, after Iooking lurid for a moment, joined him. "Wife, I give it up. Here is the money you wanted for that carpet which I denied you. Now let us have some peace and some dinner.". The good woman pocketed the money, rang the bell, and a sumptu- ous repast was brought in. A BAB,RACK-ROOM STORY. Some time ago a certain regie meet had an officer with a craze tor gymnastics, who taught his brother subalterns to walk round the bil- liard -table on their hands. Ono evening while thus engaged the door opened, and the colonel, a martinet, appeared. Gazing attentively ae the company for a few seconds, he shook his izead gravely, and, to the surprise 'of all present, departed without uttering a word. On the following morning the gymnastic officer approached the colonel, ex- pecting a verbal castigation. "With regard to last night--" he began, "Huth, my dear fellow 1'' the. colonel i,iterrupted, "I would net let anybody know for the \vorld 1 The fact is, I was dining out with an old brother officer, and, 'pen my word, I had no idea the wine could have such an effect upon me, but 'when I glanced in to see how things were going an it seemed to me that. I saw you all upside down 1" +.ASY TtJ HIM. Teacher—"Give me a thane: With the word `ransom' in it," Torninie--"Johnnie ran the Maras thou rate and ran some."