HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1909-11-4, Page 7aek to Lj1 uitl Louc
OR, WAITING THROUGH WEARY
YEARS,
CZAPTI+;11 IV,
• The next morning the artist cause
early,. and seated himself upon a
rode on the opposite side of the
road, and just upon the banks of
the river.
He took out his drawing hneteri-
els, arranged theta, and began to
sketch the hut and the overhang-
ing cliff,
Marie had no chance of 'seeing
him, She was busy washing out
linen in the shod at the back of the
hut, and hanging it to dry an the
bushes at the base of the moun-
tain.
But the old woman saw him, and
went out to "tackle" him.
She stopped before him, and
leaned heavily .upon her stick, for
she was very infirm with age, and
even that short walk hadtired her.
The artist arose, with the court-
esy that a gentleman shows even to
the humblest of womankind, and lif-
ted his hat,
"1 don't want none of that non-
sense; but, first of all, I want to
know your name;" she said, plant-
ing -her cane more firmly into the
:ground, and leaning more heavily
upon it.
Talbot, madam, at your ser-
vice," answered the artist, prompt-
ly, and bowing again.
"None of your . soft-soap, now 1
I'd like to know what you came
here a-dra-wing a plater off from my
own house and home, without leave
or license !"
"1 obtained permission :from the
oung lady, madam."
"A. child as knows no •better'n to
re everything away, even down to
e very picter of her ownhouse
d home, 'which her soft-hearted-
ess will be the ruin on her yet 1
But what 1 mean to say is as you've
got me to deal with now—a 'oman
with a head onto her shoulders, and
if it so be you want to draw a pic-
tes of ray house, you'll have to pay
lore for it."
"Willingly, madam. How much?
inquired Mr. Talbot, taking out
his pocket -book.
"I don't think as a dollar would
be too much for the .privilege, do
,you b" inquired the old woman,
much softened by the sight of the
pocket -book.
The artist quietly put a five dol-
Iar note in her hand, saying:
"I. do not think that this will be
too much."
"Five! you're a real nice young
man, and not a bit of the fellow as
I took you for; and if you've a
mind to come in and rest any time,
,and get a plate of berries, or a
drink of water, you shall have it
free and welcome!" said the de-
lighted old woman, grinning and
nodding as she turned and hobbled
toward the house.
"I haint got no grown-up gals, so
it don't matter if he do come," re-
marked the old creature, who still
looked on her grand -daughter, Ma-
,tie, as a child.
Fortunately for Marie's peace of
mind, she neither saw nor 'heard
anything of this transaction.
Washing in the shed, or hanging
out her elothes'on the evergreens
et the foot of the mountain behind
the house, she had no opportunity
of seeing or hearing anything that
went on in front of it.
And, besides, she groped that her
granny had forgotten her threat
against the artist's pockets, and
she feared even to speak to her
•about it, lest she should recall into
her mind.
The day passed', ,Marie finished
her washing and ironing, and pack-
ed her clothes into tliebasket, to
take them back to the village hotel.
The artist had not yet availed
himself of the granny's invitation to
enter the house, He had eaten the
luncheon he had brought withhim,
seated on the rock, and had quench-
ed his thirst from rho spring that
sparkled near at hand; and then he
had resumed his pencil, and work-
edsteadily on his sketch, until the
setting sun warded him to pack up
and return to the hotel.
Ile had been watching out at in-
tervals, all day, with the hope of
catching a • glimpse or, perhaps,
even having a word with Marie;
but he had not succeeded; and now
he thought he could not return to
the village without seeing or speak-
ing to her.
And he was just about to enter
thelittle garden when he saw her
come out of the door with her hat
on her head, and the heavy basket
on her arm.
Hestepped aside to let her pass
through the gate, and then he iet-
ly took the basket from her sand
saying:.
,.
"I anoin . back to t i l
g g l e village,
and will onrry this for you."
She flushed crimson, falteringly
thanked hire, and allowed him' to
carry it, wbile she walked by his
side.
"You take too muels tror:blo for
me, ear," `sloe murmured at last,
"Awlaole, is would do ariytlsing in
rh0"
world to help or please you
ho earnestly replied.
She "seised her radiant light bi
eyes to his face b innocent won-
der.
"For I love you, Marie," he ad-
ded, with a, tone and look that
filled her soul with terror and de-
light. She dropped her eyes and
trembled, while be -went • on mina
mining words of love to her willin
ear, -until they drew near the vil-
lage.
Then she awakened from her hap-
py dream to think of his interests.
."You must not take that into the
village with me, sir, please," she
said in a low, timid voice.
"And why not?"
"Oh, because it is not, indeed,
fitting for a gentleman to carry a
clothes -basket through the public
streets,, you know."
Mr. Talbot knew that perfectly
well:
"Andwith a pretty country girl
walking by his side," he mentally
added.
"Please, put it clown, sir. I can
carry it very well the .rest of the
way," she pleaded, stopping short
and timidly raising her eys to his
face.
He set the basket on the ground,
and looking tenderly upon ,her
slight form, he murmured:
"My darling, how gladly I wont
carry this for you as far as it has
to go. But ah l my child,. if I wer
to do so, I should injure yon."
Marie was too ignorant to under-
stand how it could possible hurt
her. But she knew that the action
would not be "fitting" to him, so
she could only smile in her ignorant
trust and take up her burden,
"Will you be home all day to-
morrow 7" he asked.
"Yes, sir," she timidly replied.
"Mrs. Thompson asked me to
come into the cottage to rest and
take some fruit. Wouldyou like
to have me cosine`?"
"Oh, yes, sir," she answered in
a low voice, and then flushed rosy
red, and dropped her eyes as if she
suddenly felt that she had said
something wrong.
"Thanks, little one 1 Thanks,
darling! I win. come!" lie whisp-
ered, taking her hand, and looking
first into her beautiful face, and
then up and down the road.
No ono was in sight. He drew her
hasily to his .bosom; pressed pas-
sionate kisses on her lips, and then
suddenly left her side.
She remained standing where he'
had loft her delighted, frightened
and utterly bewildered'. for a min-
ute, and then she. slowly raised her
burden and went on.
In a dream she delivered the clean
linen to its owner. In a dream she
received the next day's washing,
and left the house. Ina dream she
returned home.
Even if we did not know it it
would be early. te forsee the end of
her dreamt
CHAPTER V.
z1'
uo
g'
Then he would raise her basket
and ovary it for her to the cottage
gate, whore, with impassioned
words and caresses, he would leave
her,
She world •let herselfin at the
door, and go quietly up to the loft
whero she slept, and creep to her
little pallet, all without clisturbfng
the old woman, who slept in Com-
foctabie bed in the room, below.
And this went on from d
and from night to night, whenever
a heavy rain did not prevent 11.
And did the grandmother suspect
nothing of all this?
a
ay to day,
'
No, nothing, She looked upon
Marie as too young a child to be in
any danger of attracting any gentle-
man's attention, and also as a childuit
gam able to take care of, herself
in ordinary intercourse with, tho
world,
And so, when Maisie had gone
every afternoon to take. the clean
clothes home to their owners, tillsold woman would sit .and knit on
in peace of mind until near sunset,
when she would drink the tea and
eat the food that Marie had left by
the fire to keep warm for her sup-
per,
And then, leaving the door un-
fastened for Marieto enter, she
would go to bed to sleep, secure in
the belief that the girl would be in
by dark.
Mr: Talbot soon saw the pecu-
liar hallucination of the dame in
still considering her grand -daugh-
ter a child, and he lminorecl it by
always, in her presence, treating
Mario asa very,little girl indeed.
He longed to paint Marie's por-
trait; and so he said to the chane,
Ione day, after he had comforted
her soul with a glass of rich old
port wine at lnnciieou.
M ; 'I would like to paint your little
grand -daughter's picture.,
Hell, young man, you can do
it, said the grandma; "that id,
ii,
you know, on the same—"
"Yes, yes I know ; I under-
., hastily interrupted the art -
wig.,
for fear she should go on and
humiliate Marie before his fate, by
C charging money for her sittings,
which he knew she was about to do.
"May I begin to -morrow 1" he in-
quired.
"Oh yes, young man, you may be-
gin any time, so as you do the right
thing by me."
"Yes, sees; I will certainly do
right. I will come to-ntorrow,
then.,,
``Ob, stop, now! Don't you be
in such a. hurry 1 Hear what I've.
got to say first! I want to. have
a right understanding on two
things."
"I assure you, Mrs. Thompson, I
will agree to anything you propose,
only, pray, let us say no more of
that just now," exclaimed the art-
ist.
"Well, then, I s'pose as how you
wouldn't think ten dollars too much
to pay mefor letting you take my
grand -darter's picter 1persisted
tho old woman.
"Nor; nor ten times ten," impa-
tiently answered the artist.
"Oh, granny 1 granny! how could
you do it r cried the deeply -mord-
fied girl, ns soon as she recovered
the breath of whichthe old wo-
•man's mercenary words had, for
the minute, dispossessed her.
"Hush up, Marie! you're a
child!" snapped the dame.
Marie put her hands nip to her
face and wept.
The artist attenay ted to laugh off
her distress as the irritability of a
child, and soon lie arose and went
out to his sketching.
That evening, when they met in
the forest glade, Mario again wept
with mortification.
"To think, she said, "that gran-
ny could do such a thing! But she
is old and childish, sir—indeed, she
is very old and very childish, or
she never could have done it!".
"My sweetest girl!" said the
lover, caressing her, "she did quite
right. In the city where 1live, sit-
ters, or models for artists, fre.
quently get a high price, and make
a comfortable living."
"But not I, oh, not 11. I could
not do such a thing, especially to
you 1 to you!" she robbed.
"You are a Tittle goose! But
what then 1 Will you not sit for
Every morning the artist wcut
and sat upon the rock opposite the
Anvil Cliff to sketch, ostensibly to
rest and take his lunch, but really
to see Marie, and feast his eyes
upon her rare beauty.
He always took with him some
luxury from the hotel, to makeTrinh.
self welcome to the old mistress of
the hut. Sometimes it •world be a
bottle of wine, or cordial, or some
other dainty or dainties titan the
granny's soul loved.
"If that young man was to stay
here, and come every day, I do
thunk I should dive twenty y ;ars,
longer, I cio feel so much better for
the good wittals. he fetches," she
saidto her grand-dalighter,"
Marie would smile in silence, feel-
ing delighted thab her lover should
so benefit her old grandma,
Every evening he would take
leave, and walk on toward the vd: '
lege, as far as that forest glade
whore he first spoke to Marie,
There he would sit and wait for her,
until she came along, bearing the
basket with the clay's washing to
take home to its owner at the ho -
Then he would rise and take the,
heavy burden from her arm, and
bear ib for her until they draw
near tate village, when the would
take it back and carry it on to the
He would wait where she had loft
him until she came ' back, when
again he would relieve her of her
new burden, and walk by her :side
until they reached the lonely forest
glade, where they would sit down
upon the reek to rest and talIc,
There; every evening, they met
and lingered, loth to part, heedless
et passing tirno, until some chance,
like the distantsound :of an early
market -wagon, would rouse them to
a consoieusness of the hour,
me?" -
"Oh, yes, yes! I would sit for
you all day, and every day, if you
wished me to do it 1 But not for
money; Oh, no; not for money! '
"My sweetest girl! yon will sit
for mo. I shall take so umeh hap-
piness piness in gazing on this ]heavenly
face while I try to transfer its
beauty to the canvas. Your grand
mother must take what she claims,
not so tnuoh for your sittings' as for
my use of her cottage as a studio.
There! be consoled! Think how
happy 1 shall be while painting your
picture.
And so he soothed her wounded
spirit.
(To be continued.)
)74
PAT'S RETORT COURTIiOUS
Quite recently a warship found it
necessary to call for a Sew hours
ata military port on the coast' of
Ireland. Tommy' Atkins, meeting
a full 'bearded Irish tar in the
street a ample, of hours later said:
"Pat, when '.are you going to
place your whiskers on the Reserve
List 1"
"When you place your tongue on
tho Civil List, was the Irish
lnr's reply,
On the Farm
4.0-40.01-04-0-0-04-04-0+0+0
•9.04.0-0-o{-u4-a¢0+ri
DEMAND FOR TURKEYS.
According to reports from Great
Britain and to the opinions express-
ed
ed by traders in the United Iiing-
dom who are well informed regard-
ing the progress of the+ poultry and
game trade, there its every indica-
tion that the supplies of Brtiisi,-
reared turkeys this season will fall
short of the demand. The weather
conditions in the British Isies have
been against the production of ter-
Iceys, whe rages
and similarile game
gareouse, by noprtridmean
plentiful:
In a short time there is likely to
be a strong demand for Canadian
turkeys, and is is to be hoped that
our sources of supply in this coun-
try will be equal to,theopportun-
ity. 1t is advocated that twelve
birds should be packed to the case,
not frozen too hard, and with posi-
tions alternately reversed,
As to whether the turkeys should
be shipped feather or dressed, this
is of course, a matter for arrange-
ment between the importer and ex-
porter, much variance of opinion
(laving arisen in the • past as to
what really constitutes a dressed
turkey, the idea most favored in
this district being that the bird
should be plucked clean lip to the
collar of the neck, leaving the head
and wings untouched.
It may be interesting to Cana -di-
al] farmers to note that not only
is the demand for dressed poeltry,
except Water fowl, likely to be very
heavy this season; but there is a
universal shortage of, eggs. In
Great Britain the iruportation of
eggs has declined within a few,
months fully 7 per cent., while the
prices have materially advanced. It
is to be hoped that increasing num-
hers cl Canadian farmers will give
more attention to poultry -raising
during 1910.
A GOOD MILE. TANK.
A writer tells how to make a tank
:n which to cool milk. These are his
directions`: Where milk is keptin
shot gun cans it can be kept cool
by having the water ren through
h. from well to stock tank. Make
wooden boxes two cans wide and
high enough to shut slat lids over
cans, long enough tohold all cans
necessary.- Make -galvanized iron
tank to fit inside box. Divide
tauk lengthwise by two sticks to
!make individual stalls for eacu
can. Divide into sections by three
slats up and down right distance
to keep half empty can from tip-
ping over. Hinge slat door over
each can and fasten with button.
Have outlet a little below top of
cans and large enough to let out
quite a bit of water at once when
full cans are put in, otherwise the
secured cans will be flooded. If in
a milk house this will serve well
for milk tank,
SOME GOOD ADVICE.
Nine eases out of ten where a
farmer kicks about too low a test
he will 'become reconciled if you
can show him that he is getting all
he is entitled to. If he is inclined
to doubt your word call in a state
inspector and have him make a test.
1f .his readings are like yours (they
should be) the farmer ---that is the
average farmer—will be satisfied
and you will have no more trouble
with him. It is poor policy to re-
sent a patron's' inquiry about bis
test by becoming angry. Explain
to him as much as possible, and
show hini the best. He needs to be
shown,
HARD -MOUTH HORSES,
An exchange is responsible ,for
the following: Here is something
of practical value to any one driv-
ing a horse that pulls on the bit
Fasten a small ring to each side
of the bridle and as near the brow-
band as possible. Pass lines
through,bit ring and snap thein in-
to rings at browband. This, with
a: common jointed bit, will enable
a child to bold a "puller" or hard -
mouthed horse with ease under al-
most all circumstances. It can be
used on a fast horse, in double
team or on both, as desired. It is
cheap and easily applied, and it
won't make the mouth sore- 11 is
better than any patent bit.
LIVE STOCK NOTES.
It is a surprise to see how many
farmers neglect to keep salt in
their horses' marsgcrs, It is very
inexpensive and very beneficial. A
lump or chunk should be kept in
every manger.
Never overload a young horse.
He should never know that there
is a load that he'can not pull. Over-
loading at first is almost sure to
snake Mins a balker, Never toad at
first heavier than thehorse that
is . hitched with the telt cart pull
alone, and. this horse should el -
ways be a'reliable puller.
If hens are properly eared for,
they will lay eggs occasionally dur-
ing the winter, but when they are
forced by unnatural food and con
rlitions to lay cptitinually, it is at
the expeA a Of thole health and health
tality, and dhey Will hob lay at
every morning through the fall and winter ?
BOVRIL iS ALL BEEF
It contains all the nutriment of the hoof in a oonoentrated
and tasty forth.
it will ranew your blood ' and live
and musole. you strength of nevus
1t will tone up the whole system,
Bovril elves
Health and Strength
many eggs the following spring and
summer as will the hens that have
bad their natural rest and race -
tion,
Do not eompcl animals to pass
the winter in uncomfortable stalls.
Remember that the horse should
not stanch with his forefeet on a
lower plane than the hind ones;
the neglect of the stall is a common
cause of lameness and deformities,
especially in the young, growing
animal. Now is a gond time to fix
the stalls in good shape for winter.
It is none less important that the
eow stalls receive attention, also,
the slope should be just enough to
secure good drainage, the .most
common defectis in having the stall
too low behind,
1'ERSoiUL Peil!1AGR.APIKS:
A. Pew Stories A.li;out Weil -known
People,
A good story is being toll of the
days when the Earl of Crewe was
Viceroy of Ireland. He had a con
siderable sense of the importance
of the Viceroyalty; anal when out
walking one morning with a lady
he passed first through a small
gate, "The Prince of s't'ales always
opens a door for me," said his
companion reprovingly. "That
may be," returned Lord Crewe;
"but I represent the Queen,"
Professor John Muirhead, of Bir-
mingham 'University, was once ex-
amining some ehildreu in moral
teaching, and he asked them to
write an essay on the three stages
of Ste. One bright child sent in
the following: "There are three
stages in life. The first is when
we are very young, and think o
the wicked things which we shat
be able to do when we are older
and this is the age of innocence
The second is when we are older
and are able to do the wicked
things which we thought abou
when we were young; and this is
the prime of life. The third is
when we are clotty and repent the
wicked things which we diel when
We were younger; and this is the
dotage,"
Madame Melba, the prima. don-
na, has recently confessed that, as
a child, she never possessed any
dolls. "I nev r had a wish for dulls,"
she has said, `nor the time to play
with them. My favorite toys were
me tiny harp and violin, and in
their company I spent thousands
of blissful hours as 0.little girl. I
was only four years old when my
father began to teach ane music,
and at eight I could play almost
any piece at sight. At twelve I
was leading soprano in a church at
Albany, and a little Inter I became
organist and choirmaster."
over twenty minutes that I was
found and released,"
GLORIOUS PIG STICKING.
An East Indian Sport Foil of
'I'tu'ills and Danger.
Of all sports the most exciting,
the most wildly exhilarating, says
a writer in Bally's ltlagasine, is
surely pig sticking. While waiting:
for the beaters to come up when
driving for cheer or bison or tiger,
the pulses gallop, time flies and ex-
citement 'quivers in every nerve
and muscle, but it is nothing to the
tension itttendent on the wait at
the edge of the jungle for the break
of the grey boar as he comes out.
usually in a reluctant, surly man-
ner, and proceeds to cross the open
towards the next bit of cover.
Then the gathering up of your
reins .and the fresh grasp of your
spear as you look with straining
eyes—now in the direction of the
captain of the hunt for the signal
to go, now to the animal itself, in-
wardly praying that he nsay not
tnru back into cover. And then
when the word "Ride 1" is gi ren—
the mad rush, the utter inability
to see anything to stop you, the
empowering anxiety to beat every
one, be it your greatest friend or
greatest enemy, and get first
spear,
Your heart is in your head. There
is nothing in the world to you but
jou lanky grey monster striding
away in front and your frantic de-
sire to run him through. Hours are
lived in moments. Your horse and
you are one animal, with but cue
unfulfilled wish in the world, a
wish you are both doing your very
utmost to gratify.
f In not other sport perhaps is
1 there so much real danger, yet, g
; strange to say, accidents are really .G
very few. I have ridden in cold 1 11
blood—very carefully—over ground
that I and my comrades hase rid- h
t
den over helter skelter after a pig
rreviously, and to say that I hareJ`
been astouished is but to describe! a
nay feelings in the very feeblest a
way. How the horses kept their
footing it is impossible to say, All
I know is that they did.
Fashion
IidYits
Q4*+ t• A .1„141„1„1«l, 1•,1,, ,4„4”
FADS AND PANOIES,
¶L'he, prevailing hat is the largo
black velvet.
The days of the bleak said white
hat are numbered,
The' wired net bow as a hat trim-
ming is revived again,
Lyux is scarce and is generally
iaplaaecl by lslaalt fox,
The n•aw greens are fire inose vivid
thirt,fashion has ever known,
Shephern.. d's cheek continues in all
its vogue for lifttle girls' frocks,
Short wraps are still in the style,
but exit a great many v.f them are
see
Newest skirt; aro somewhat wid-
er, but the salve straight silhon
Otte continues.
Blues inclined to peacock are
taking the place of the gray and
Copenhagen blocs.
Plain taffeta blouses are !made
effective by the addition ; of small
black buttons.
The pronouncrd feature of the au-
tumn is the separate coat worn
with the princess gown,
Stripes pries ail in the latest
French flannels, and some of them
are highly effective.
Black still indicates b'hat ib
meausto rule in tailor as well as in
afternoon gowns.
Fur is to be generously used oe
many of the afternoon ea well as
the tailor tirades.
Among the eulors that will .be
much worn are 'the bluee, pink,
brown, and a great deal of green.
Jetembroideries are used as a
'slimming on pale voluted satin as
well as on all black foundations.
Olive green is a new shade bid-
ding for favor. and leaf green, .a
delicate grayish green, is chosen
second.
The newest outing hat of the year
is made of soft brown leather,
trimmed with a wing and a leather
strap. and buckle.
Even in children's clothes the
ever present note of black is found,
either as piping, revers, or trim-
ming of some slight kind.
Skirts, while eut on broader
lines, still retain more or less the
sheath effect. The silhouette is
almost exactly'the same as it Vas
last winter.
Many of the most elaborate
wraps are assuming draped tunic
lines, .and have taken on the knot
tiargs and fussiness at the battens.
which •distinguished tunic original
models during the summer.
Perhaps the newedt note iu even-
ng gowns is the appearance of the
ir'dhe. It is h'glt and gives a eon -
rase which is artistically neees-
ary to the fullness appearing .at
re top of the skirt.
The swathed turban effect, which
ad !been promised a vogue, will, it
ow appears, be little in evidence,
$ they suit only a limited type anel
re lacking both in ,smartness and
picturesqueness.
Women everywhere rejoice over
the definite reinsratenient of the
cloth gown, since silks, satins,and
velvets vannas he nsade to show the
chic effect of a well made and.
smartly designed Bluth dress.
Many of the new cuirass gowns
are designed to hook under the left
arm. This leaves an uisbroken tine
at the front and back and it helps
to carry out the idea of armor
plate, which former] the original
cuirass.
HEALTH HINTS.
Here is the latest story concern-
ing Mr. Rildyard Kipling. Rec-
ently he teas a ;nest at, a literary
dinner at which one of the guests
started a discussion concerning the
spelling and pronunciation of the
English language. "Have you ever
noticed, Mr. Kipling,” he said,
"that in the entire L'eglish langu-
age there are only two words be-
ginning with 'se' that are pee-
nounoed as though beginning with.
'eh' 1 Those two etre suniach and.
sugar. Having made an exhaustive
study of the subject, you may take
it from me that this is so.” Bored
though he was, Kipliug's politeness
did not desert him. Assuming an
expression of interest, although his
eyes twinkled behind his glasses, lie
quietly asked, "Aro you sure 1"
Cheer tip! All the good people
don't die young; lots of theta live
to a ripe old -age and die poor..
The life of a famous artiste is
not always a beth cif reset,, and Mis-
cha Ehnen, the famous violinist,
once had a somewhat nasty practi-
cal joke played upon him by some
Musical students, They because.
jealous of his superior talent, and
determined to take a mean revenge.
tt clic of his concerts he retired
to a small ancon at the back of the
building in order to run through
an especially diilicult passage in a
piece hewas to play during the ev-
ening. While ha was eng:'ig.ed in
doing this, the key was turned in
the door, making him a prisoner.
"I tried in vain to esenpr," says
Mischa El man. "and presently
heard voices calling 'Mischa:: Mis-
ehal' But it was not until the an-
dicnce and orchestra bad waited
k
AN ADEPT IN CRIME,
host Notorious of Spanish Bandits
in the 'foils.
Jose Tisaira, the boldest and most
dangerous of Spanish bandits, has
been ealnturecl at Algeciras.
The history of this criminal is
remarkable. Twenty years.ago he
killed a priest at Palau and burned
the corpse. For this he was con-
demned to death, but was pardon-
ed while on his way to execution.
He was transported to the prison
at Ceuta, but soon effected his es-
cape.
Then fur some time he lived
among the Moors, .but so numero s
were bis depredations that he was
forted to flee. Shortly after he fell
tut* the hands of the Spanish au-
thorities, but succeeded in escap-
g a second time, though in so do-
ing e was severely wounded,
His next step was to ingratiate
himself with the Moorish bandit Va-
liente, but his desperate robberies
encs erimes eclipsed those of that
blood -thirsty ruffian. Valiente be-
came jealous of Tisaira, and sent
grim to Tangier where the engaged
himself to au agriculturist in a large
way. Soon the bandit had plunder-
ed his employer to such an extent.
that the latter denounced him to
the authorities, and he had to take
refuge in flight.
Tisaii'a's next scene of operations
was Guadajalara, where he met a
former dissolute companion. The
tw-o quarreled, and Tisaira killed
his old friend with a couple of re-
volver shots. The police arrested
him. and were conveying hint; to
Madrid by train when lie jumped
from the carriage, and badly in-
jured himself in the fall. 13'e man-
aged, however,. to break his chains,
and drag himself to Gerona. After
his recovery ho began a series of
robberies—in one ease raiding a
tae office and getting away with
:C3,000—but he again fell :into the
hands of the police: He was taken
to Ceuta, but last Silly he made his
fourth escape;
We worry too much about the ax-
peeted that never happens
A bag of hot salt relieres nen•
ralgia.
It rests you, in sewing, to change
your position frequently,
For cold in the head. nothing iss
better than powdered borax, sniff-
ed up the nostrils.
Cure for Croup --One teaspoonful
of vaseline given internally about
twice a iciay.
That a teaspoonful of ground
mustard is a cupful of warm wa-
ter is a prompt and reliable eme-
tic and should be resorted to is
ease of poisoning.
To prevent accidents with bol
tles containing poison hay a dozen
tiny bells and .every time a bottle
of poison is brought into the house
tie a bell to the neck of bottle. 1?vern
lis the dark the bell will tinkle its
earning,
I'or Sleeplessneces,--To those tube
suffer frim sl;eeplossness. Repeat
the arab two verses of psalm 127:
Except the Lord build the hotm'se,
they labor in vain that build it ; ex-
cept the Lord keep the city, the
watclhinau waketh but in vain. :lb
is vain, for you to rise up early, to,,
sit up late, to eat the bread of sots
rows; for so he giveth his beloved
sleep. Repeat slowly and thought-
fully.
Mustard Plaster. Tr'ihn the crust
from a thin slice of light breach,
thexl:spriukle it prickly with gronutt
mustard, Spread a thin cloth over
the mustard and dampen with vise-
gar or water. Your plaster is alt
ready, with nothing to clean up':afr
ter making ib, and lunch heater than
the old !sticky batter plaster, AA
piece of bread well dampened is
batter as aoultice 'than eithae•
flaxseed or slsppory elm, and will
neither dry out nor sone so (Wok.
iy