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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1895-11-22, Page 2lirovswor 22, 1890 H3 VICAR'S GOVERNESS. ClIfaBTER. IV. "All dela his All thoughbs, all aae)ona, all, g Whatever stun tphle mortal framer IA11 are but m maters 0 Love, And feed his peered flame." e -Celery. 'All round the drawing -room windows at Scrope a wide belong bad been buil UP, ever which the creepers climb and trail,, Stone steps lead to It from tbe scented garden beneath, and up these runs Clarissa gayly, when Thursday morning bad dawned, and deepened, and given Place to noon. Witin the drawing -room, before a low liable, sits Mime Scrope, tatting Indus- triously, Tatting is Miss Serene's torte. She never does anything else. Multitudinous antimacassars, of all shapes, patterns and dimensions, grow -beneath her untiring touch with the most alarming rapidity. When finish- ed, nobody knows what becomes of them, as they instantly disappear from view and are never heard of: afterward. (They are as good as a ghost in Pulling - barn, and obstinately refuse to be lai It was charitably, if weakly, suggested, at one time, by a member of the strong- er sex, that probably she sent them, out in bales as coverings for the be- nighted heathen ; but when it was ex- plained to this misguided being that tatted antimacassars, as a rule, run to holes, and can be seen through, even the desisted from further attempts to solve the mystery. Miss Peyton, throwing up one of the ,windowsashes, steps boldly into the drawing -room and confronts this em- inent tatter. "Good -morning," she says, sweetly, advancing with smiling lips. Miss Scrope, who had not heard bar enter, turns slowly round: to say she • started would be a gross calumny. Miss Sorope never starts. She merely raises her head with a sudden accession of dignity. Her dignity, as a rule, is not fascinating, and might go by an- other name. Good afternoon, Clarissa." she says austerely, I am sorry you should have been foroed to make an entrance likea burglar. Has the hall door been removed? It used to stand in front of the house." "I think it is there still," Miss Pey- ton ventures, meekly. "But "—prettily —" coming m through the window en- abled me to see you at least one -mo- ment sooner. Shall I Diose it again?" "1 beg you will not distress yourself about it," says Miss Scrope, rising to ring the bell. " When. Collins comes in he will see to it." It is a wild day, though warm and sweet, and the wind outside is tearing madly over the lawn and shrubberies into the wood. beyond. But in the meantime you will per- haps erhaps catch cold, or rheumatism, or something," says Clarissa, hesitating. ' Rheumatism ! pugh 1 nonsense 1' says. Miss Scrope, disdainfully. "I simply don't believe in rheumatism. It is nothing but nerves. I don't have those ridiculous pains and aches people hug nowadays, and I don't believe they ,have either ; it employs their idle time trying to invent them." Is Jim in?" asks Clarissa, present- ly,,having seated herself in a horribly comfortless but probablyartistic chair. "James is in," says ➢tiss Scrope, se- verely. "Do you mean my brother? It is really almost impossible to under- stand young pellets of the present age." Don't you like the name Jim?" asks Clarissa, innocently, leaning alightly forward, and taking up the edge of .Miss Scrope's last antimacassar to ex- amine it with tender interest. "I think it such a clear little name, and so happily wanting in formality. I have never called him anything else since I can remember, so it comes most natural to me." I think it a most unmaidenly way of addressing any gentleman whose priest christened him James," says Miss Scrope, unflinchingly. "What would you think of him were he to call you by some hideous pet name, or, more properly speaking,nickname?" I shouldn't mind it in the least ; indeed, I think I should rather like it,' returns Clarissa, mildly. " I believe that to be bighly prob- able," retorts Miss Jemima, with con- siderable scorn. Clarissa laughs,—not an irritating laugh, by any means, but a little soft, low, girlish laugh, very good to bear. If you scold me any more I than ery," she says, lightly. I always give way to tears wben driven into a cor- ner. It saves time and trouble. Be- sides," returning with some slight per- versity to the charge, " shall I tell you a secret? Your brother likes that lit- tle name. Hedoes, indeed. He has told me so a thousand times in the days .gone hy. Very frivolous of him, isn't it ? But—ah l here he is," es the door opens and Sir James comes in, "You are a little late, are you not 1" leaning back in her chair with a certain amount of languid, but pleasing, grace, and bolding out to bim a slender, ungloved hand, on which some rings sparkle bril- liantly. Have I kept you waiting?" asks he, eagerly, foolishly glad because of her last words, that seem to imply so much and really mean so little. Has shebeen anxious for his coming? Have the minutes appeared tedious because of his absence? "I hurried all 1 knew," he says; "but stewards will be stewards." 1 have been quite happy with Miss Scrope; you need not look so penitent," says Clarissa. " And who am I, that I sbould competewith a steward? We ]cavo been having quite a good time, and an excellent argument. Come bare, and tell your slater that you think Jim the prettiest name in the world." Did anyone throw a doubt on the subject 2 Lives there a soul so dead to euphony as not to recognize the mu- sic in those three letters(—Jim! Why, it is poetry itself,' says Sir James, who is not so absent that lie cannot scent battle on the breeze. As he speaks he smiles; and when James Scrope smiles heis almost handsome. ' Some day you will regret encourag- ing that child in her folly," remarks Miss Scrope severely. At which the ohild makes a saucy little grimace un- seen, and rises to her feet. " What a solemn warning 1 says Serape, wi h a. Shrug. I bone," turn - hng to Claria, " you have taken it to ssart, and that it will keep you out of imaginary mischief. It ought, you know. It would be a shabby thing to bring down public censure on the bead of one who has so nobly espoused your cause." My conductfrom this day forth shall be above suspicion," says Clarissa. "Good -by, ;)Iiss, Serene," stooping to press her fresh warm lips to the with- iered cross old'cheek beneath her. 1 sill going to tread old ground with— James,": ,- -Slee fpdoes bite Won hall and Cord* rider, t#irote% two modern mom, an. Pet a portiere, into another and larger hall beyond. lie!), standing before a heavy oaken door, he turns tae baudle of at, and, as it swings back slowly and sleepily, they ass into another t room, so unexpeetedly end Pc etrengely different from any they have yet en- tered, as almost to make one start, 1t is a huge old-fashioned apartment, atone -floored and oak -paneled, that once in olden days, must have been a re- rectory. Chairs, carved in oak, and built like bishops' thrones, hoe the Walls, looking as though no man for many a hundred years bas drawn them from their present position. Massive cabinets and cupboards, cunningly de- vised by drafty Rands in by -gone dayys, look out from dusky corners, the Muc- ous faces carved upon them wreathed in their eternal ghastly smiles. From narrow, painted windows great gleams of sunset from the gay work} without pour in, only to look sadly Out of place in the solemn gloomy room. But one small door divides it from the hells out- side ; ut-side; yet centuries seen to roll between it' and them.' In one corner a door lies half open, and behind it a narrow flight of stare runs upward to a turret chamber above, —a tiny stairway, heavily balustraded and uncarpeted, that creates in one a mad desire to ascend and learn the se- crete that may lie at its top. Miss Peyton, scarce noticing the monkish refectory, runs to tbe stairs and mounts them eagerly, Sir James following her in a more leisurely fash- ion. Now for my own room," she says, with some degree of quiokness in her tone. She reaches tbe turret chamber as she speaks, and looks around bar. It is quite a circle, and apparently of the same date as the one they have just quitted. Even the furniture. though of lighter make and size, is of a similar age and pattern. Ugly little chairs and unpleasantly solid tables are dotted here and there, a perfect wealth of Old -World work cut into them. Everything is carved, and to an un- sympathetic observer it might occur that the carver must have been a per- son subject to fiendish visions and un- holy nightmares. But no doubt the beauty of his designs lies in their ugli- ness, and his heads are a marvel of art, and his winged creatures priceless! The bigh chimney -piece is en rapport with all 1 he rest, and scowls unceas- ingly; and the very windows—long and deep—have little faces carved on either side of them, of the most diabolical. Miss Peyton is plainly entranced with the whole scene, and for a full minute saws nothing. I feel as though I were a child again," she says presently, as though half regretful "Everything comes back to me with suob a strange yet tender vividness. This, I remember, was my favorite table, this my favorite chair. And that little winged mon- ster over there, he used to whisper in my ears more thrilling tales than either Grimm or Andersen. Have you never moved anything in all these years?" Never. It Is your own room by adoption, and no one shall meddle with it. When I went abroad I locked it, and carried the key of it with me wherever I went ; I hardly know why myself," He glanced at her curiously, but her face is averted, and she is plain- ly thinking less of him than of the many odd trifles scattered around. " When I returned, dust reigned, and spiders; but it has been made spick and span to -day for its mistress. Does it still please you? or will you care to alter anything?" No, nothing. I shall pay a compli- pliment to my childish taste by letting everything stay just as it is. I must have been rather a nice child, Jim, don't you think 1 if one passes over the torn frocks and the shrewish tongue." • I don't think I ever saw a tear in your frocks," says - Sir James, simply, and if your tongue was shrewish I never found it out: ' Miss Peyton gives way to mirth. She sits down on a wretchedly uncom- fortable, if delightfully mediaeval chair, and laughs a good deal. " Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us To see ourselves as others see us I" she quotes, gayly. " Those lines, meant by, poor Burns as a censure on frail humanity, rather fall short at this mo- ment. Were I to see myself as you see me, Jim, I should be a dreadfully conceited person, and utterly unbear- able. What a good friend you make!" A bad one, you mean. A real friend, according to my lights, is a fellow who says unpleasant things all round and expects you to respect his candor. By and by, when I tell you a few home truths, perhaps you will not like me as you do now." ' Yes, I shall always like you," says Clarissa. `Long ago, when you used to scold me, I never bore malice. I suppose you are one of those rare peo- ple who can say the ungracious thing in such a manner that it doesn't grate. But then 7011 are old, you know, Jim, very old,—though, in appearance; won- derfully young for your years. I do hope papa, at your age, will look as fresh. She bas risen, and bas slipped her hand through his arm, and is smiling up at him gayly and with a sweetness irresistible. Sir James looks as pleased as though he had received a florid com- pliment. What a baby you are!" he says, after a pause looking down at her ad- miringly. 'fudging by his tone, babies, in his eyes, must possess very superior attractions. There are a good many babies in the world, dont you think?" he goes on, presently. " You are one, and Geoffrey Branscambe is another. I don't suppose he will ever quite grow up" " And Horace," said Clarissa, idly, " is he another?" But Sir James, though unconsciously, resents the question, ' Oh, no I" he says hastily. " He does not come within the category at all. Why," with a faint smile,, " he is even older than I am 1 There is no tender, baby -nonsense about him." " No, he de so clever --so far above us all, where intellect is concerned," sbe says, absently. A slight smile plays. about her lips, and a light, that was not there a moment since, comes to life within her eyes. With an effort she arouses herself from what were plainly happy day -dreams, and comes back to the present, which, just now, is happy top.- ' think nature meant me to be a nun " she says, smiling. " This place subdues and touches me so. The som- ber ilights and shadows are so impress- ive it were indeed mina (in real- ity), T should live a,great part of my time, in it. Here I should write my pleasantest letters, 'and read my ohoice est hooks, take my afternoon tea,'and make welcome my dearest friends,—you among them, In fact, if it were prac- ticable," nodding her' pretty head em-. phatically, "'I should. steal this room. 7:here is hardly anything I would not do to make it my own, Sorope regards bar earnestly, with oartain aanount et calm ini1uiry.,Ins sh a coquette, or serol t biniitln 1 l - indeed, the loos be tee index o& th naiad, one ,must amnia her free of al unworthy thought or frivolous desig. HeA•s is ' A countenance ho which do meet Sweet iecordsl rem laps as swat." Her eyes are still siniling' a ab him her whole expression is fu11 0t a fent' friendliness' end in hie. heart, a this Moment, a s not m t e p a i n h n, ars. a to t hoe, or gladness, oaf es air, but yeti a faint w�lddmingli gd'ofpall�three. As for 0lariesa, she ebands, a little apart, unconscious of all that is passing in his heart and gazes lovingly upon the objeete that surround ber, as one will gaze now .aand then on thins that have been fendly remembered- terough the haze o many yenta, She Is happy wrapped' in memories of 4 past all sun- shine and no shade, and ignorant of the meaning he Would gladly attach to her last words, While 1 stay here I sin,--tbat a I covet; 'pie says, at length, surpriseby hie silence, "`and it grows ate, Come, walk with me a little way late, the park; 1 have not yet seen the old path we used to pall the 'short cut' to Gaw ran, long ago." So, down the dark stairs he follows her, aorose the stone flooring, and into the hall outside, that seems so brilliant by contrast, and so like another world, ail is so changed, so different, Behind, lie silence, unbroken, perfect, a sad and dreamy light, Old-Wrld grandeur; here, all is restless life, full of uncertain sounds, and distant footsteps, and voices Lomb but positive, ' Is it not like a dream ?" says Clar- issa, stopping to point backward to the turret they have just quitted. "The past is always full of dreams," replica he, thoughtfully. a' e 1 oheelr with a swift involuntary gesture. moment later as the figure comae )1 ser, so near that the faro is diseorn ice, sbe pales again, and grows white a ori early snow-dro .. , Dari n -morning pRutb,' says Dontl :n;l:013:04 ombe, with a smile, aPl. bO,01 the foot that morning hQ !lasts to noon many hours agorae. returns his oalutation genu , e her lta$ lie•for au Instant 8n This ie a summer's day, with a 'von - s von - Pence," says Dorian, genially, pro- ceeding to make himself comfortable 0n the top of the low wall near which eh is standing. He is plainly making u his mind to a long and exhaustive 000 versatlan, " Talk of India!" he Pave dieParagingly ; '" this beats it to fits I' Muth acquiesces amiably, (To be Continued,) THE SQUARES OF LONDON. Piet' are Mostly Lald Ott(. In .elle Dutch Fashion. Sonia of the London squares are quaint and charming, being mostly laid out in the Dutch fashion, Golden Square, near Regent street, Red Lion, and Queen squares, in Bloomsbury, are capital specimens. no first, though so close to Regent street, might be a dozen miles away ; there is a welcome un- kemptnees; the grass is rank and wild; there are old .trees ranged around its border in a systematical way. The houses round are picturesque, because each is distinct. It is given over to commission agents, merchants and trade generally, yet within but a few years it was a place of genteel residence, like a usual square, and we find the late Cardinal- Wiseman living in a sub- stantial mansion here. Dickens, it will be remembered, placed Ralph, Nickleby's house here, which is described on the occasion of the„party to Sir Frederick and Sir Mulberry as having almost palatial apartments and the richest furniture. As we wander round we. are struck with the melancholy tone of the enclosure, yet everything seems brisk enough; but it belongs to. the old 3 an y a CHAPTER V. "A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye 1 ( Fair as a star, when only rine Is shining in the sky" Wordsworth. The, baby morn has flung' aside its robes, and grown to perfect strength. The day is well advanced, Already it is making rapid strides toward rest and evening ; yetstill no cooling breeze bas come to refresh the heart of man. Below, in the quiet fields, the cattle are standing, knee-deep in water, be- neath the spreading branches of the kindly alder. They have no energy to eat, but munch, sleedily„ theif all -satis- fying cud, and, with gentle'expres- sianless eyes, look out afar for evening and the milkmaid. Tis raging noon; and, vertical, the sun Darts on the head direct his forceful rays. O'er heaven and earth, far as the rang- ing eye Can sweep, a dazzling deluge reigns ; and all, From pole to pole, is undistinguished' blaze, Nature Nature pants! The very streams look languid from af ar, Or, through th' unsheltered glade,im- patient, seem To hurl into the covert of the grove" A tender stillness reigns over every- thing. The very birds are mute. Even the busy mill -wheel has ceased to move. Bright flashes of light, that come and go ere one can catch them, dart across the gray walls of the old mill,—that holds its gaunt and stately head erect, as though defying age,—and,slanting,to tbe right, fall on the cottage, quaint and ivy -clad, that seems to nestle at its. feet. The roses that climb its walls are drooping; the casements all stand wide. No faintest breath of air comes to flutter Ruth's white gown, as she leans against the rustic gate. All miller's daughters should be pretty. It is a duty imposed upon them by tradition. Romance, of the most floral description, at once attaches itself to a miller's daughter. I am not at all sure it does not even cast a halo round the miller hinimelf. Ruth An- nereley at least acknowledges this fact, and does her duty nobly; she gives the lie to no old legends or treasured nurs- ery superstitions; she is as pretty as heart can desire,— "Fresh as the month, and as the morn- ing fair." She is small, piquante, timid, with huge. almond -shaped eyes and light - brown hair, - a rounded, supple figure, and hands delicately white. Perhaps tbere is a lack of force in her face, an indefinable want, that hardly detracts from her beauty, yet sets one wondering, vaguely, where it lies, and what it can be. The mouth, mo- bile and slightly parted, betrays it most. Her lashes, covering her brown eyes, are very long, and lie a good deal' on her cheeks. Her manner, without a sus- picion of gaucherie, is nervous, almost appealing; and her smile, because so rare, is very charming, and apt to lin- ger in the memory. She is an only ohild, and ell through her young life has been petted and:car- essed rather more than is good for any one. Her father had married, game - what late in life, a woman in every way his superior, and, she dying two years after her marriage, he bad, fallen back for consolation upon the little one left to his sole care. To him, she was a pride, a delight, a creature precious be- yond words, on whom the sun must shine gently and the rain fall not at all. A shy .child from the first, Ruth had declined acquaintance with the villagers, who would, one and all, have been glad to smear the motherless girl. Perhaps the little drop of gentle blood inherit- ed from her mother had thriven in her veins, and thus rendered her distant and somewhat repellent in her manner to those in her own rank of life. She had been sent early to a private school, had been carefully, educated' far above her position, and had come home again to her father, with all the pretty airs and unconscious softness of manner that, as a rule, belong to good birth. She is warm-hearted, passionate, im- pulsive, and singularly reserved,—so much so that Lew guess at the terrible power to love, or hate, or suffer, m sil- ence that lies within her. She is a special favorite with bliss Peyton and the vicarage people (Mr. and Mrs. Red- mondand their five children), with -those at Hythe, and, indeed, with most of the county people, Miss Scrope excepted, who gives it freely as her opinion that she will come to no good with her books and liar high society and general fiddle -(addling. Nobody knows what this last, means, and every- one is afraid to ask. Just now, with her pretty head baro, and her hand shading her eyes, she is gazing down tbe dusty road, Her whole attitude denotes expectancy. Every feature (she is off her guard) ex- presses intense and hopeful longing— ' Fiery Titan, who ---with his peceant heat Ilas dried up the lusty liquor. new Upon the herbs in the green) mead," has plainly fallen in love with her to- day, as he has, clothed her in all his glory, and seems reluctant to pass her on his homeward journey. The heat' has made her pale and lan- geld; but just at this moment a faint delicate color springs into herface' and as the figure of a young man, tali and Mead -shouldered, turns' the corner of the road, she raises her hand to her e p world. . The square itself is very attractive and original, with a sort of Dutch or. foreign air; we note the fine trees which shelter it all around in symetri- eal lines, and the Roman warrior sort of statue in the centre, arrayed in full armor, and representing George II, The grass and walks are laid out with a cer- tain free and easy carelessness that is very acceptable and contrasts with the trim, shaven, soulless treatment of mod- ern squares. Altogether a visit to Golden square will interest. Berkeley square every one knows. Yet it bas an extraordinary sympathe- tic attraction from its grass and fine shading old trees. No one,we may be sure, had noted that these leafy patriarchs seem to range in two rows down the middle, like an avenue. The fact is it was the demesne of the lawn in front of the old Berkeley house, which stood at the back of Devonshire house. The mansions round are very fine, and the iron work, railings, etc„ are all admired and to be admired. There are some queer things to be told about squares; for instance, that there was a Gen. Strode. who had a mania for setting up statues in squares at his own expense. \Ve have seen equestrian statues in Leicester square propped up with a broomstick, with portions broken away. ANOTHER FLYING MACHINE. !las Mule Several Allegrd Successful Flights In. Midair. ,.� llfr. Percy S. Pilcher, lecturer on marine engineering at Glasgow Uni- versity, basing his inventions upon that of Herr Lilienthal, has produced two winged creations, and by their aid has taken sundry flights in midair, says the London Bleak and White. At times he has risen to an altitude of twenty feet, occasionally hovered kite -like for a space and then descended on the spot he left, while upon other trials he has hastened before the breeze for con- siderable distance ere regaining his feet. Mr. Pitcher's machines are light structures of wood and steel support- ing a spread of wing .and braced with piano wire. The wings them- selves, which are made of nainsoon—a sort of muslin originally manufactured in India—have an area of 150 square feet ; and each machine possesses a ver- tical and horizontal rudder of circular shape, the one cutting the other at right angles. The former, which is rigid, serves to keep the machine's head to the wind, while the latter arrests an inclination to pitob sideways—a com- mon vice in all like inventions. The great difficulty, with winged aer- onauts is the uncertain quality of the wind, for a steady, unvarying breeze is never to be calculated upon. Indeed, the sudden, unexpected side puff often brought disaster in its train to Mr. Pilcher, until he bit upon a means of circumventingit. He now draws his wing tips in with a bend, which renders a flying machine safer and more stable. HAS SAVED EIGHTY-THREE LIVES.. Wonderful Record In Deat11. ()heating Slade by a Sea Captain. Which boy has saved the greatest number of human lives from drowning? was asked a London paper by a corres- pondent, and this was the answer; Captain Hans Doxrud, commander of the Red Star steamship Switzerland,. trading between Philadelphia and Ant- werp, is believed to hold the world's record in this respect, as, while quite young, he had saved the lives of eighty- three persons,. rescued from nine sinking ships. Among the boys who late! re- ceived rewards frothe Royal m Hu- mane Society for saving life was W. E. Irving, aged 13 years, who, at a great risk, saved the life of a little fellow at Aldermoor, near Coventry, on April 11. This is the second life saved by Irving, who was the recipient of a silver medal in Doceniber last. d.nother boy, Alfred Goodwin, 13, saved a boy of 11 in the Acton waters, near iVormwoodScrubbs; and Fred 13. Cooper, a little fellow of 11. years of age, who has only the use of One hand, succeeded, on Feb. 28 last, in rescuing another boy who had fallen through the ice in the recreation ground whish runs by the side of the Trent. A. few years ago the Royal Humane So- ciety awarded a silver medal to. ii"rank .Lines, 8 years of age, who saved the life of a boy 10 years of age who fell through the ice in the Broadwater, Brocket Park, Hatfield. A farmer of Albany, Ore., is exhibit- ing a bunch of 42 stals of wheat, With 924 meshes and wheat 8,500 grains, which grew from a single kernel. An- other farmer, in Cedar Rapids, Neb„ has a cucumber five feet long,, andstill growing. 4I4 li'ilNr "" Wbat would oy de, P3133, 11 „I should .attempt to ive you 000111848?; 1 should certainly pe my 1008 againpt sir,,, "Tell me, guide, why 30 few pegp10 ascBene0ausd et bna: 00' tua0lige s [fieoverent nicuuta3n, fallen off at, „ binrlet Hardupton (mathitoting) I ugP are all out ey place with Ino, wisp 1 dould only get the shine off mY coat and put 111 PII my shoes, Teacher, Tammy, bow ie the world divided? Tommy Paw Says it is d1- vided between tbo corporations and the polltdoians," On chill days the maiden grieves SnIonnB)1 dressed in garments 00"i s e ca t display her silk waist p sleeve And heavy jaol4eba, too, an'"d Now thatnothing We areto monceal arried, Peneleachope, have cfrom other, w--"'' ' 'm , , !bow much dhdhoyou give Ithe preacher20George1" "1t may be weaknoas," said the dy- ing editor, "hut I can't bel but feel grateful :net o this town," " bat for 1" For, life enough to leave it." He (waxing eerolus)—" Do you believe in the truth of the daring Man Pro- po t s ^ God disposes?'" She (archly)— I depends upon whom man proposes to."' Tommy.._'"Paw, why is it the good die young?" Mr. Figgs—" They don't die young because they are ggood, but they stay good because they die young. "0h, boy, I'll give you a dollar to catch my canary bird." " He's just naught, ma'am." Where—where is the p�irecious Pet 1"' 'Black cat up the road has of cot You say he contributes to the maga; cines E "Yes, the literary girl. replied his rival. " Anything worth using?" "Yes." "WbatS,'" "Post age stamps.' Mabel—"Yes. be's a nice youngman but hasn't his nose met with an accident of some sort? 1 can't get over it." Amy—"No wonder 1 It has no bridge." "I reckon," said Mr. Corntossel,'that these politicians says a good many things they're sorry fur." " Yes," re pmorelied herthea husthey bandcrier, ' anbe.' " ,, a good many "It's a cold day when I get left," said the pawn -broker, as he hung up the $60 overcoat on which he bad advanced $4. "Ti's the other way with me," aptly re- marked the overcoat. "Do you think," be asked, " that your. father would consider my suit favor- ably ?" ' Really, Herbert," the mer- °bant's daughter replied, " I couldn't say. Did you buy it at his store?" Oh, legislators, while you strive To remedy our ills, IL you would keep us all alive, Pass some, ten dollar bills I A—" When I see you I always think' of the proverb: To whom God gives an office, to him he gives understanding." D—" But I have no office!" A—"Well don't you see how that fits?" "As you have good references I'll of- fer to you the post of cashier in our house, provided you can deposit 1,200 marks as security." And what secur- ity can you give me that my 1,200 marks will . be secure ?" Strawber—"Dr. Probe has been treat - Ing my rheumatism for the past six months." Singerly—" Are you any bet- ter 0" Strawber—" I should say so. When he come with his bill yesterday I Was able to run like a. deer." " Never marry a girl with the idea you are going to reform her, my boy," said Uncle Allen Sparks. If sbe chews gum and giggles when she is a young woman, she will giggle and chew gum when she is married.' Snaggs—" Do you know, Bilkins, I think I'm a gifted orator," Bilkins— ' What makes youthink so?" "I've spoken twice, now, and when I sat down on both occasions the audiences were much pleased and applauded loudly." "Years. ago," said Mr. Barnes Termer, the eminent tragedian, "I started out to be the architect of my own fortunes, but in tbe school of experience I have learned that a successful architect ought to be able to draw good houses." The black -bearded pirate, with a knife between his teeth, boarded the passen- ger ship. Throw up your hands!" he shouted. The passenger banging over the rail smiled feebly. I think I did, not less than an hour ago," be said gasp- ingly. Are all these young men anxious to become surgeons ?" asked the visitor. " They are," replied the lecturer upon surgery. " But bow can so many ex- pect to make a living ?" Easily, sir; easily;" answered the lecturer. Think of the effect of the present bicycle craze." In reply to the ory for assistance, the professor said: "If I could help you I couldn't help helping you. It is because I cannot help you that I cannot help re- fusing to help you." And the mendi- cant dartedaround the corner, with terror in his eye and cries of "Help 1" in bis mouth. ROW TO RUN A FURNACE FI?E. Sane Pointers About: IUuullIng Your Far nage Ecauont I zany, '- The furnace fire should be shaken downand raked perfectly clear in the morning. A few shovelfuls of coal should be put on, and all the draughts opened. The ashes should then be taken up. As soon as the coal begine. to burn well and the fire looks clear at the bottom put in enough coal to come almost to the top of the firepot. Keep the draughts open until the gas has burned off ; then close them, and later, if the fire be too hot, open the checks. Except in extremely cold weather this is all the attention that ought to be necessary through the day, The fire mast be raked down and fresh coal or cinders put on in the evening, but a small amount of: coal` will answer for the night, unless the draughts have been open the greater part of the day. On an extremely cold day it may be necessary to - have the draughts open; a part of the time and have some coal put on at noon. All the clinkers should he removed when the fire is raked down in the morning. Tho water -pan should' be replenished at least once a day. Some cardless people leave the ashes for a day at time at the bottom of the furnace, where they absorb the heat, robbing the house of its share. If the furnace firs be allowed to burn to a white heat it Neill be ruined for that day, unless more coal be put on a little later, The told air bexes must admit enough air to drive the hot air through the house, but not more than can be heated. Heating stoves and open grates are to be managed as far as possible the same 08 a furnace. With the stove there is no trouble, there being plenty of cheeks and draughts. The open grate ie bot s0 well provided, 'B iIK OF 1J'� 1N QQBSt VERY 1 PROMISING PROPERTIES BEING DEVELOPED. Interesting .Inrornuitlen About the 8014 llins�--dllvrr, Nlekel and Irnr $Apes^^ Tho Molt 5an(Ii1e48Flonr MII3 e1P lke 451411 neral—The bnln0ering Ifatl }'lobhl 1udustrles!tire R141p1oyneulto!!+rite $uniberlor !'!seals 5udilnen,. A New Yorkgentleman, Mr,. More fob, who pass d thr Bb Montreal the other day, gives some very intere3ting information regarding the gold mines of the Lake of the Woods district and other resources of that country betWeen Sudbury and the eastern portion of Manitoba. "'rhe tangle of forest," he says is made up of pine, cedar, spruce, birch, hemlock, tamarao, poplar, and a dozen other kinds of useful timber, while the rooks through which the iron steed thunders in deafening baste contain riches of gold, silver, nickel end iron -- all welting the band of industry to turn theme to account," Being asked as to Heewatin, the tourist replied: " The Lake of the Woods Milling Com- pany's flour mill at that point is one of the most complete on the conti- nent, having a capacity of 2,000 barrels daily, The lumbering industry gives employment to seven large saw mills with a combined output of 100,000,000 board measure per year. A fleet of twenty-three steamers ply regularly 00 the Lake of the Woods and Rainy River, besides numerous Paunches and other pleasure.craf11, all owned in and operated from Rat Portage, Ten f ing companies employing a fleet of 150 boats, ship their catch: the value of whdch it is estimated will approxi- mate $4,000,000 this season, from this port. These, with several minor indus- tries, support apopulation of 5,500. which is rapidly increasing. mining has been carried on in a desul- toryApart and from these industries gold SLIP -SHOD WAY for several years, partly owing to diffi- oulties in obtaining Government recog- nition of their claims consequent upon a terittorial boundary dispute between Manitoba and Ontario. It was not, in. fact, until 1892, that any substantial progress was made. In that ,year Mr. John 0, Caldwell, of Winnipeg, purchased the property known as the Sultana, eight miles southeast of Rat Pertage. Here he built a ten - stamp mill which he has worked con- tinuously ever since, producing gold betake with satisfactory regularity every week, the average output being $1200 per week. This gentleman's dogged perseverance has had its ine- vitable result. Other owners, encour- aged by his success and convinced in the stability .of the veins when they saw his main shaft sunk over 200 feet and the oro body increasing, in width and richness at every point, have roused themselves to action and are now busily engaged in developing their locations." "What are the names of tbese mines 3" asked the correspondent. The Re- gina Mine, owned by a London (Eng.) company, of which Major-General Wilkinson, C.B., is the president, com- menced. operations last autumn. Their development work exposed a magnifi- cent lode of riobly mineralized quartz, and on the 7th of last month their ten -stamp mill was started with a good prospect of satisfactory returns. A clean up of 30 hours run bas pro- duced a $350 brink of gold. General Wilkinson bas donated the first re- gular ingot produced towards found- ing a hospital at Rat Portage. The Dominion Gold alining and Reduction Company of London, Eng., recently or- ganized the reduction works at Rat Portage and under the new manage- ment the works give promise of be- ing an invaluable assistance to mine owners and proprietors, as the com- pany are putting in a battery of forty stamps with a complete and modern plant suitable to the treatment of the various classes of ores found in the vicinity. The establishment of these works will enable prospectors to test their properties at A SMALL OUTLAY and those who cannot afford to build and operate a mill may have the out- put of their minestested at a reason- able Dost per ton." Has not this corporation purchased several mines? " Yes, they have bought out the Black Tack, Gold Bill, Sultana and some other partly developed properties. They are operating all of these, the work being only limited by the number of miners available, and report favorably of each and all. At the Gold Hill they have a ten -stamp mill in opera- tion since Sept, 28, which they propose augmenting to 30, and possibly to 50 stamps in the near future. Here an extraordinary rich strike is reported. In one of the three shafts wbioh are being sunk free gold .is showing in every piece of quartz blown out, and it is estimated that the orein sight on the surface and in the shafts will produce several hundred thousand dol- lars. The Messrs. Wright, of Ottawa, possess in the Gold Mountain a very promising property. The ore body, 60 feet in width, is exposed on a side hill, so that the work for some timewill'. partake more of the nature of quarry- ing than mining." New discoveries are reported almost daily and many of the specimeu5 broughb in are of surpassing richness. Placer diggings bave been found on the Manitou and it is said that four. adventurous Swedes working there are making $10per day each with sluice and rooker. Speaking bf the great dem at Rat Portage, it . was explained that the Keewatin Company had here placed for Industrie) purposes a massive barrier of ggranite masonry stretching from bank to bank, stemmingthe surface drainage of 3,000 square miles and hold - big in eheok a motive power equal to 30,000 horse- power. The work has cost its promoters $250,000 and is now so far completed that they are ,pre- paired to furnish power to almost any class of manufacturers who choose to avail themselves of the advantages of fared. In Russian Poland all trains must stop at every station until the police, (or gendarmerie) captain of the plane gives permission for its departure. An air line train while going nearly 50 miles an hour struck a little girl near Northford, Conn., recently. When the train pulled back the on ineer found that the girl, wheat he had seen thrown in the air, was able bo walk around, apparently Uninjured,