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The Brussels Post, 1896-9-25, Page 2FATE'S INSTRUMENTS r ' CJdAPTga xvl.-m(Gpntilw •) ' "Put why iii'the world did she send It back to Gerald?" '"Ob, cant you see? Why, you sald you were Gerald; at least,it came to that." "And alio meant to send it to met" "Yes, but I had told lam' my Mr. Neston was Lord Tottlebere's eon; so I suppose the letter has gone to Gerald. It must bane, if you haven't got it." "But was, should she send it to either of us?" with "Oh, because I said i soot It w i Mr, Newton's approval." "Teat wasn't true." "Of course not, But le sounded bet- ter." "Ah, it's dangerous work." 'I should never have done it, if I bad foreseen this." George knew that this represented Neaera's extreme achievement in peni- tence, and did not press the question. "What a wretch the woman is i" Neaera continued. "Oh, what is to be done? Gerald is sure to ask for an explanation. "Quite possible, I should think." "Well, then, I am lost" ; "You'd better tell him all about it." 1 "I can't; indeed I can't. You won't Mill you? Oh, you will stand by me?" "I don't know what B1rs. Bort Las said, and so--" Ile was interrupted by a knock at the door. George rays and opened it. ";What is it, Timms?" "Mr. Gerald, six, wants to see you on important business." "Is he in his room?" "Yes, sir. I told him you were en- gaged "You didn't tell him ])Mrs. Witt was here ?" "No, sir." "Say 1'11 be with him in a few min- utes." George shut the door, and said, "Ger- ald's here, and wants to see me." "Gerald! Then he got the letter !" "What do you propose to do, Mrs. Witt ?" "Sow can I tell 1 I don't know what she said. She only told me she bad sent back the money, and told him yvhy " "If she told him why—" "I'm ruined," said Neaera, wringing her hands. George stood with his back to the fireplace, and regarded her critically. After a moment's pause, he said, with a smile, I knew it all—and you were not ruined." Ah, you are so good!" "Nonsense," said Gerge, with a broad- er smile. Neaera looked up at him, and smil- ed too. "Mightn't you risk it? Of course, truth is dangerous, but he's very fond of you." "Won't you help me?" A. heavy step and the sound of im- patient pushing of furniture were heard from the next room. "Gerald is getting tired of waiting," said George. "Won't you do anything?" asked Neaera again, barely repressing a sob. "Supposing I were willing to lie, where is a possible Ike? How caul ex- plain it?" Timms knocked and entered. Gerald begged for a moment's interview, on pressing business. In a moment," said George. Then turning to Neaera, he added brusquely, "Come, you must decide, Mrs. Witt." Neaera was no longer in a condi- tion ondition to decide anything. Tears were her ready refuge in time of trouble, and she was picturesquely weeping—for she possessed that rare gift—in the old leather arm -chair. Will you leave it to me?" asked George. "I'll do the best I cam" Neaera sobbed forth the opinion that George was her only friend. "1 shall tell him everything," said George. "Do you authorise me• to do that ?" "Oh, how miserable I am I—oh, yes, yes." "Then stop crying, and try to look nice., "Why?" "Because I shall bring him in." "Oh I" cried Neaera in dismay. But when George went out, she made her hair a little rougher—for so paradoxi- cally do ladies set about the task of ordering their appearance—and anoint- ed her eyes with the contents of a mysterious phial, produced from a re- condite pocket. Then she sat up straight, and strained her ears to catch any sound from the next room, where her fate was being decided. She could distinguish which of the two men was speaking, but not the words. First Gerald, then George, then Gerald again. Next, for full five minutes, George talk- ed in low but seemingly emphatic tones. Then came a sudden shout from Ger- ald. Here I" he cried. "In your room!" They had risen, and were moving about eleaera's heart beat, though she sat still as a statue. The door was flung open, and she rose to meet Ger- ald, as he entered with a rush. George followed, with a look of mingled anger and perplexity on his face. Gerald flung a piece of paper at Neaera; it Was Mrs. Bort's letter, and, as it fell at her feet, she sank back again in her chair, with a bitter cry, Tha worst bad happened. "Thank God for an honest woman I" cried Gerald. Gerald!" she murmured, stretching out her hands to him. Ah, you can an that to him!" he answered, pointing to George. "I—I loved you," she said, "13e'11 believe you, perhaps -or hel you in your lies. I've done with you." Xie pissed his hand over his brow, and went on. "I was easy to hood- wink, wasn't I? Only a little wheed- ling and fondling—only a kiss or two was a woman now, and must know and a lie or two1 I believed it all. and so forth.' And Laura beard it r witht shock—nay, with a And you," he adds, turning on George, all no apparon shot ay, v "you spared her, you pitcd her, you calmness approaching levity ; and when sacrificed yourself. A fine sacrifice 1" she was told that all communications George put his hands in his pockets, and shrugged his shoulders. I shouldn't go on before Mrs, 1Vitt," he remarked. "Not go on 1 No, no. She's so pure, so innocent, isn't she/ Worth any sacrifice?" "What do you mean, Gerald?" said "Hold your *Mittel" sold George, lay Mg a band on his ehanldee, Neaera sat still, gazing at her lover with n e ✓ over helover only is little shudder "You uped me nicely between your" Gerald continued, me and all tile world. No truth in it alit A mielakel all a mistake! He found out --,his mistake I" His voice rose almost to a shriek, and ended in a bitter laugh. "Yea needia't 1pe it brute," said George, eoldly. Gerald looked at him, then ee Neaeraand , George wee close by him now, red another seeming to watch every motionof bis lips, Neaera rose from her ohair, and flung hereelf at ,tae feat of the angry man. Ah, Gerald, my love, have pity I' she wailed. "Pity I" • he echoed, drawing back,, so that she fell on her face before him. 'Pity! I might pity a thief, I might pity a liar, I have no pityy, for a The sentence want unfinished, for, with a sudden motion, George closed on him, and flung him through the open door out of the room. "Finish Tour blaokguardism out- side!" he said, as he shut the door and turned the key, CHAPTER XVII. Ira brevis furor, says the moralist; and the adjective is the only, part of the saw that is open to exception. Ger- ald Neston's wrath burnt fiercely, but it burnt steadily also, and reflection brought with it nothing but a stronger conviction of his wrongs. To George, the interpretation his cousin put on his action in shielding Neaera seemed to argue that uncommon degree of wrung -headedness that is hardly dis- tinguishable from immorality. Yet, in the recesses of George's heart lurked the knowledge that Men. Witt, plain. old, unattractive,might have reaped scant mercy at his hands; and Gerald, if he did not believe all he had brutally hinted, believed quite enough of it to make him regard George as a traitor and Neaera as an intriguer. What sane man could have aoted as George had acted, unless under a woman's fascina- tion'? Jealousy did the rest, for Nea-, era herself had sapped the strength of her lover's trust in her, and be doubted not that she who had deluded him in everything else had not hesitated to prntise on him the last deceit. She and George were confederates. Need any ask how they became so, or what the terms of the alliance were? It was hardly wonderful that this theory, strange as it seemed, should find a place an Gerald's disorderedmind, or that, having done so, it should vent itself in intemperate works and reck- less sneers. It was, however, mora re- markable that the opinion gained some general favor. It pleased the cynical, for it explained away what seemed like a generous action; it pleased the gos- sfpa, for it introduced into the Nesgton affair the topic most congenial to gossips; it pleased the "undo' guid," for it pointed the moral of the ubiquity of stn ; it pleased men as a sex, be- cause it made George's conduct natural and explicable; it pleased women as a sex, because it ratified the opinion they had always held of beautiful myster- ious widows in general, and of Nea- era Witt in particular. And amid this chorus, the voics of the charitable, ad- mitting indiscretion, but asserting gen- erosity, was lost and hushed, and George's little band of friends and be liveis were dubbed blind partisans and, by consequence, almost accomplices. Fortunately for George, among his friends were men who cared little for public reprobation, Mr. Blodwell did his work, ate his dinner, said what he thought,d esteemed the opinion of society mgcch at the value the Duke of Wellington set upon the views of the French nation, As for Lord Maple- durham and Sidmouth Vane, unpopul- larity was the breath of their nostrils; and Vane did not hesitate to pur- chase the pleasure of being a minority by a sacrifice of consistency; he aban- doned the theory which he had been among the first to suggest, as 80013 as the suggestion passed by general as eeptance into vulgarity. The three man gave George Neston a dinner, drank Neaera's health, and allowed themselves an attitude of al- most contemptuous protest against the verdict of society—a verdict forcibly ex- pressed by the Bull's-eye, when it de- clared with not unnatural warmth that it had had enough of this "sordid affair." But then the Bull's-eye had hardly shown its wonted perspicacity, and Mr. Espion declared that he had not been treated in a respectful way. There was no traversing the fact; George's party fell back on a denial of the obligation. Mankind is so constructed that the approbation of man does not satisfy man, nor that of woman woman. If all the clubs had been ringing with his praises, George Neston would still have turned his first and most eager glance to Bars. Pocklington's. As it was, he thought- of little else than what view of his conduct would gain the victory there. Alas 1 ha knew only too soon. Twice he called; twice was entrance refused him. Then Dame a. note from Mrs. Pocklington—on un- answerable note; for the lady asserted nothing and denied nothing; she en- trenched herself behind common opin- ino. She, as George knew, was a tol- erably independent person so far as her own fame, was concerned' but where ber daughter Ives interested it was an- other thing; Laura's suitor must not be, under a cloud; Laura's future must not be jeopardied; Laura's affections must be reposed only where absolute security could be guaranteed. Mr. Poeklington agreed with his wife to the full. Hence there must be an end of everything—so far as the Pockling- ton household was concerned, an end of George Neston. And poor George read the decree, and groomed in his heart. Nevertheless, strange events were happening behind that door, so firmly, so impenetrably closed to George's eager feet—events to Mrs, Pocklington inconceivable, even while they actually happened, to her hus- band, alarming, reprehensible, ex- traordinary, puzzling, amusing, almost, I in a way, delightful. In fine Laura re- belled. And the declaration of inde- pendence was promulgated on this Mrs, Pocklington had conveyed to her daughter,. with all delicacy requisite and imaginable, the new phase of the affair. It shocked and distressed her to allude to such things; but Laura Neaera between herself and George must cease, she shook her pretty bead and re- tired to her bedroom, neither accept- ing nor protesting against the de- cision. The next morning after breakfast she appeared, equipped for a walk, holding a letter in her hand, Mrs. Pockling- ton bad ordered her household and had T EL4 f .B317i38 8 F ?O3.3. &vv., 2; IMO gen. "to pest t note to Ni', Neston." Iifrs, PuckilnKgtop never made mix- take§ ha the etiquette of names, and assumed a like oorreotness in others, She imagined her dauglitor referred to Gerald. 'Why need you write ea him$" she asked, looking' up, "He's nothing more than an acquaintance, "Mamma 1 He's an intimate friend." "Gerald Neston an intimate friend! mean Idi'. George Neston," said Laura, iu a calm voice, but with a slight blush, "George 1" exclaimed, Mrs, Pockling ton" "What in the world doYoeo I Whant write to George Nestono salt all that is necessary." I thought I should like to say some- thuig too," Aly dear, certainly not. If you had been—if there had been anything actu- ally arranged, perhapprss a line from you would have been right; though; under rho circnmstanoes, I doubt it, As it is for you to write would simply he to give him a chance of reopening tee acquaintance, Laura did' not sit down, but stood by the door, prodding the carpet with the point of her parasol. 'Is the acquaint- ance closed?' she asked, after a pause, You remember, surely what 1 said Yesterday'? I hope it's not necessary to repeat it0, mamma' I remember it." Laura paused, gave the carpet another prob, and went on, "I'm just writing to say I don't believe a word of it,' Jack's Darling" fell from Mrs. Pock- liegton's paralysed grasp. 'Laura, how dare you? It is enough for you that I have decided what is to be done." "You see, mamma, when everybody is turning against him, I want to show him' he has one friend, at least, who doesn't believe these hateful stories." I wonder you haven't more self-re- spect. Considering what is said about Mat and Neaera Witt—" "Oh, bother Mrs. Witt 1" sa'd Laura, actually smiling. Really, mamma, it's nonsense ; he doesn't care that for Nee - era Witt 1" And she tried to snap her fingers; but, happily for Mrs. Poak- linton's nerves, tura attempt was a failure. I shall not argue with you, Laura. You will obey me, and there is an end of it" "You told me I was a woman yes- terday. If I am, I ought to be al- lowed to judge for myself. Anyhow. you ought to hear what I have to say." "Give me that letter, Laura." "I'm very sorry, mamma; but—" "Give it to me," "Very well; I shall have to write another." "Do you mean to defy me, Laura?" Laura made no answer. Mrs. Pocklington opened and read the letter. Dear Mr. Neston," (it ran)— "I want you to know that I do not believe a single word of what they are saying. I am very sorry for poor Mrs. Witt, and I think you have acted splen- didly. Isn't it charming weather? Riding in the park Ln the morning is a positive delight. 'With kindest regards, "Yours very sincerely, "Laura F. Pocklington." Mrs. Pocklington gasped. The note was little better than an assignation I I shall show this to your father," she said, and swept out of the room. Laura sat down and wrote an exact) copy of the offending document, ad- dressed it, stamped it, and put it in her pocket. Then, with ostentatious calm- ness, she took up "Jack's Darling," and appeared to beoome immersed in it. Mrs. Poeklington found it hard to make her husband appreciate the situa- tion; indeed, she had scarcely risen to it herself. Everybody talks of here- dity in these days; the Pocklington, both people of resolute will, had aorkt the opportunity oe studying its ep their own daughter. The result was fierce anger in Mrs. Pocklington, ming- led anger and admiration in her hus- band, perplexity in both. Laura's posi- tion was supple and well defined. By coercion and imprisonment she might, she admitted, be prevented sending her letter and receiving a reply, but by no other means. Appeals to duty were met, by appeals to justice; she parried entreaty by counter -entreaty, re- proofs by protestations of respect, orders by silence. What was to be done? Laura was too old, the world was too old, for violent remedies. Intercept- ing correspohdence meant exposure to the household. The revolt was ap- palling, absurd, unnatural; but it was also, as Mr. Pocklington admitted, "in- fernally awkward." Laura realised that its awkwardness was her strength, and, having,in vain invited actual phy- sical restraint, in its absence walked out and posted her letter. Then 'Mrs. Pocklington acted. At a day's notice she broke up her estab- lishment for the season, and carried her daughter off with her. She gave no address save to her husband. Laura was not allowed to know whither she was being taken. She was, as she bitterly said, spirited away" by the continental mail, and all the communi- cations cut. Only, just as the brogu- ham was starting, when the last box was on, and Mr. Pocklington, having spoken his final word of exhortation, was waving good-bye from the steps, Laura jumped out, crossed the road, and dropped a note into a pillar -box. It is only," she remarked, resum- ing her seat, "to tell Mr. Neston that I can't give him any address at present. What, asked Mrs. Pocklington of her troubled mind, were you to do with' a girl like that? (To Be Continued.) "You don't know?" bs asked, with a now sat down to a oomforta`ble hour American sunned beef last year went sneer, "What dome maxi ask for wing with a novel before luncheon. Dis Miter abroad ca the amount of nt gv ?dWill give 1 hat Bus given?' soman vi "as am going out, mamma," Laura be- pounds, vaincd at de,72O,U33. SNAKES THAT EAT EGGS. After Swallowing the Bags the Jimmies Pierce the Shell, Extract the Bleat andMeet, the itehlse. There are several species of egg -eating snakes in Africa. Several specimens have recently been added to the Lon- don Zoological Garden whore they have attracted much attention. They are fed on the eggs of birds, as well as those of the domestic ben. Those in the Zoo are not large enough to man- age a large egg, but the egg of a bantam is swallowed with ease. The snake does not have as much dif- ficulty in swallowing an egg numb larger than his body as would be ex- pected. The jaws of the reptile are not attached together and the under jaw has an opening in the middle which works something like a hinge. By means of this arrangement the mouth can easily be made of enormous size. Atter being swallbwed the egg is not allowed to proceed as far, as the stom- ach of the snake. A few inches back from the bead of the reptile is a row of spikes projecting downward from the spinal column. These pierce the egg shell and the muscles of the throat contract, toning both white and yolk out and into the snake's throat from whore it goes to the stomach, The shell, after lacing reduced to it com- pact moss, ie ejected from the mouth, THE FARM, GRAIN WHILE AT PASTURE, "Notwithstanding the low prime of horses, and for that matter of all kinds 4f stook at the roseut Limo, if they are to be kept et aU, it is far better to keep them in good condition than to allow them et any time to become run down and very thin," says the Horse Brooder. "Xtis sometimes stated that it is oheaper to keep horses fat than it is to keep them poor, and there is some reason oh a claim, the it horse has sominetstihing in rtfserveas for any unusual drain, welch the poor one. does not Have, but weather it is actual- le cheaper keeping horses in good con- dition or not it is certainly more pro- fitable in several ways to do so, parti- cularly if they are raised for the mar- ket, as almost any horse looks and sells much better if In quite good flesh than if thin. "Along with the general low prices horsemen have one eensolation,in that oats and most other kinds of grain now cost less than for many years. For the past twelve mouths, so very low have been the prices of oats, it has been the general impression they could be purchased cheaper than they could pos- sibly be raised on our average eastern farms, and but for the value of the straw, considerable of which is used in every stable, this is probably the case. With farm pvoduotions it is often the ease that extremely low prices in any given commodity are followed by a very decided advance, with more or less ten deny to go to the other extreme. This, however, is not yet the case with grain, as the prices for a year to come bid fair to be, if anything, even a trifle lower than those of the past year. "10 and near our large cities a ton of first quality of hay now costs just :about the same as that weight of the best white oats, hence. us far as nutri- tion is concerned, the oats ars certain- ly lower in price and much more econo- mical to feed, to at least a reasonable extent, than the hay, though neither can entirely take the place of the other. On most of our stock farms it is cus- tomary during the winter to give ex. Gra feed and attention to such brood mares and young stock as are then thin, but with the present prices of grain, if the pastures are so situated that grain can be conveniently fed during the summer, every animal can be brought up to and kept in first-class condition at a comparatively small ex- pense while runntug out to pasture. llorses for all purposes are then much more salable, and when in shape to sell to the best'aavantage, are necessarily in good condition to put to work or to keep for breeding or_ any other pur- poses, while there is indefinitely more satisfaction to the owner to see his stock all looking sleek and fat than if they are run down and thin. There are good judges who con- sider themselves capable of recogniz- ing the good points in a horse, regard- less of condition, still, there is no one to whom a horse that is very poor ac- tually looks well, no matter how hand- some or well proportioned the animal may have been when in good condition, and there is no one who would for a moment think of pitying so high a price for any animal when thin. Horses dif- fer from other kinds of stock, in that there is no particular season when one can count with any degree or certainty on finding a good market, the time to sell a horse being, as a rule, any time when a purchaser is at hand, and as there is no telling when this may be, it is far better to have all that are for sale kept constantly in good sale condition. "As regards the expense, a peck of oats a day would be a very liberal feed for even mature horses that were out to pasture, and there are plenty of our trotting -bred stock that if given all the oats they would eat would not con- sume any more than that quantity ; still, the extra. expense of this would be only aboat $il a month, and but very few mouths of snap feeding would be required to materially improve the condition of any animal in fairly good health, whileit ought to take but a short time to get even the poorest, with any such teed, in good condittion. Late in the season, when the pastures are dried up and the flies so trouble- some that the horses are found to be losing Mesh, a certain amount of green fodder corn, or sometbing of the sort, raised for that particular purpose, can also be very advantageously fad. Still, for all seasons of the year, the writer would regard oats, at the present prises, as the most advantageousfeed, particalarly for cur light harness horses. Turning out to grass is regarded by many OS a panucea Lor a great var- iety, of ailments. it is true that grass is a very natural feed, and that Where. sufficiently luxuriant, young stock in particular apparently thrive better on it than on almost any other feed, while if the shoes are taken off with the rest and the run under the most natural condition, nature is ofteu given a chaneo to materiai.ly remedy the effect of bad shoeing. Under such conditions nature does also cure many an injury, still, there are plenty of horses,' and particularly those that have long been kept up and quite heavily grained, that would nearly or quite starve if obliged to pick up their own living in a very large proportion of the poorest pastures. Years ago it was the boast of al- most every farmer that his colts had never eaten a spoonful of grain, and in far too many (mess they eertainiy looked it. Now it is almost the excep- tion that horses of any age or breed are kept for any considerable length of time safely on hay, and in many htstanoes grain given while at pasture proves guile as advantageous and in some eases is Seareely less needful than with the hay when in the stable." DAIRYNOTES. OT.ES. There is money in the milk -pail' if it is kept clean, The separator ought to be in use in every dairy. 11 will pay. Goad batter is a choice article of diet. Poor butter is an abomination. At present prices for grain, the cow ought to have grain rations right along, It is not only cruel, but unbusiness- like to deprive cows of plenty of good water in sunnier, i, The question of shade in the pasture is an important one, too important to I stopped be neglected. Have you11 g eeltin butter at the country store? You must, if 1'(u are to make a success of the dairy, t Somaof the batlerilne wanfaot ee era are getting tired and eulttingg the' busfneas, Tbo cow may get her rights yet, eere is a good deal said aboatvvseh- ing the udder pf the sow, but net enough Bald about wasbing the Mande of tee milker, Cure the spirits, the legs and the vole,e of the bey who drives the cows, That is a place where you can afford to cavo a slow boy, A dog well trained to drive oows and onethat the cows know, is a val.. uablo aid on the Rami. A dog that is not thus trained is eisnally a nuisance about the herd. TUE ZANZIBAR 'TROUBLE. ENGLAND'S CHOICE, FOR SIMIAN WILL SATISFY THE PEOPLE, meets of the Vlasic nu'les in Relitir el Rescued Slaves,.Chttin Can i In the Streets-141iwo Ladles Thinl. Wearing Cleves Ms a Mon uncomfortable Bahl*. The English Government $as succeed- ed in placing its choice for Sultan on the throne of Zanzibar with no more trouble Bien was to be expected. Seyyid Khalid, after twenty-four hours of dis- puted reign, has taken refuge with the German Consul, to be delivered over to thebbnglisb when the German re- presentatiives receive the necessary in- structions from the home Government. The palace and the parts of the city lying about it were ruined by the Eng- lish bombardment, and 800 natives are said to have been killed. Life in Zan- zibar will probably go on with as muob tranquillity as during the reign of Sey- yid Khalid bin Thwain. The feeling of the Arabs against too British was not powerful enough to cause a vary trou- blesome uprising. Seyyid Khalid is not regarded as nearly so fine a speoimen of an Arab as his predecessor was, and the news from Zanzibar indicates that the population is ALRIIIADY QUITE SATISFIED with Hamoud bin Mohammed bin Sey- yidd, whom the English Government has placed on the throne. The English influence in the town is felt in other ways than commeroi- ally. Several English missions have long been established in Zanzibar, and they have in particular, directed them- selves to the care of the slaves rescued from the traders. The English mis- sionaries who came out to Zanzibar are usually lay brothers of the Established Church of England who have risen from rather humble positions in life. Their salaries are from 51,000 to $1,800 , a year, and after five or six years of work. they return to their own country and take back most of this with them, if, indeed, they aver allowed it to leave England; There are also a number of women in the missions who teach the slave girls. But the natives and slaves are not very sensitive to the influences of Christianity, and their evident con- tentment with their lot is one of the difficulties against which the Eng- lish missionaries have to struggle. It is said that few of them show any results of the teaching they receive at the missions, and after a short time they return to their old religion and habits. The Arabs are forbidden by the Koran to drink wine, but they find in Zanzi- bar a substitute which proves just as effective when they have made up their minds to enjoy themselves. This is made from the fermented juice of the cocoanut, and it is said to equal any beverage as the promoter of a prompt and SUBSTANTIAL "JAG." The condition of slavery is said to rest very lightly on the captured Af- ricans and their descendants, and none of them is ever known to complain of its results, unless it be the chain gang, which does the work of cleaning the city and patrolling the beaohes. 'These are made up of rebellious slaves, and aro a familiar sight in the streets. Of- ten nine or ten of these slaves will be seen chained together in charge of a keeper. Abe Sultana ofBin Thwain had come almost as much under European in- fluence as he bad, and was interasted in anything that pertained to the hab- its of the women of other nation. She always wore her native costume, but the clothes of women from other lands afforded her the liveliest entertain- ment. Once an American called on her at the palace wearing gloves. This was a peculiarity which the Sultana could not understand. Women who wore gloves when the weather was warm seemed to her to indulge in abarbar- ous practice. Despite their retirement the women of Zanzibar visit one an- other in their houses, and this call is always preceded by an announcement of the visitor's intention. A messenger comes in the afternoon to announce that his mistress will be there that night. No social intercourse of any kind ever takes place in Zanzibar in the daytime. CURIOUS TIME MARKERS. new the South Pacific Islanders Tell the '11,11e 111 1i11y. Neither clock nor timepiece is to be found in Liberia, The reckoning of time is made entirely by the movement and position of the son, avliich rises at 0 a.m. and sets at 0 p.m., almost to the minute all the year round, and at noon is ver- tically overhead. The islanders of the South Pacific have no clocks, but make an ingenious and reliable time marker of their own. They take the kernels from the nuts of the candle tree and wash and string thein on the rib of e palm leaf. Tlie first or top kernel is then lighted. All of the kernels are of the same size and substance, and each will buten a certain number of minutos and then set fire to the one next be- low. The natives tie pieces of black cloth at regular intervals along the string to mark the divisions of time. Among the natives of Singer, in the Malay Archipelago, another peculiar de- vice is used. Two bottles aro placed neck and neck, and sand is pat in one of them, which pours itsoif into the other every half hour, when the bottles are reversed, There is 0 line near by, also, on which are hung twelve rods, marked with notches from one to twelve, AN EYE TO BUSINESS. I thought, Alice, that you were en- gaged to harry Smith, and now I hear you are going to marry his father, Tina's right, Maude. The old gen- Oman said he could support only one of us, and I decided to be that one, and took the widower, TEM =ME 7DORVOft, Mame persoes, Who are unable t4' drin'k .eofMee media' by the ordinary bob. ing process) find no. beds effects from Lila uise o1 4oftes mach' by pereola'tioul tli'at is, lay enclosing^ the. eoffoe 10 a• bag of some kind or in, a wire Maims strainer anal pouring the boiling water neon it, This method of eoffee-mak ing should always be, used in, house-' howe bers• brakfa differentldsher flours,the memand wheree01111'st oneat pot is m, Ila a• to beingof more wllolesadeonie Chedditioncoffee is• greatly superior to, any, possible by the other method. Every person should ooeupy a' single bed. A (Motor recently' said, "No mat- ter in whet else you economise, - there is a criminal folly in, economizing in beds. Every person needli hie own bed more than he needs his awn chair or own plane at the table," For dysentry aphysician, recommends, one drachm of powdered cinnamon, mixed with a few drops of water made - into a ball. Take it morning and'. evening, washing down with a mouth- ful of water, A bran -bag is one of the most'trate— fut of all toilet accessories. It is. sore• cleansing to the skin, and much. more. refreshing. It is made by filling a Muslin bag with two quarts of bran; one ounce of orris root, one ounce al- mond meal, and one small °aka of cos- tile soap out in small pieces. An authority" on physical training. for women gives the following direr- Lions for securing the best results, which naturally must be modified by individual oharacteristies and circum- stances. "Sleep nine hours out of the twenty-four, bathe in cold water, ex- ercise five minutes daily with light dumb bells, drink a cup of hot liquid before breakfast, spend half an hour every day in outdoor exercise, make th'e best of bad argains and always keep your temperb." A writer on obesity says: "The safese way to reduce obesity as to begin by eating and drinking less, and to take as much exercise as possible, increasing it gradually day by day. Butter, fat, oil, sauces, haricot beans, peas, vermi- celli, rice, tapioca, macaroni, all fatten, Bread should be eaten in moderation, and' stale or toasted. All sweets are forbidden. Plainly roasted or boiled meats taken in moderation, with plain boiled green vegetables, may be eat- en, also fruit—apples and oranges es- pecially. Gooseberries and currants are good when in seasou, and for drink take lemonade unsweetened, weak tea, and black coffee. Sleeping in a narrow, hard bed is now considered conducive to a good figure; throw away your soft mattresses and even your pillows, and you are promis- ed freedom from round shoulders and double chins. Macy women are giving the experiment a trial. A recent writer, in giving advice to amateur nurses, says: Don't act on your own judgment when that judgment is in defiance of the doctor's orders. A good nurse should listen most attentively to all that the doctor has to say, write down his instruotions if likely to forget them and obey them implicitly. She should keep a piece of paper and pencil in the room, and write down bow long the patient slept, temperature, if food was taken, much or little coughing, etc. Vague answers, such as 'pretty welt' or 'a little' do not convey much to the doctor when lie inquires bow the pa- tient has slept, or how much food he has taken. "The light In a sick room sbould be tempered to suit the weakened condi- tion of the patient's eyes. No nurse who has the slightest regard for the pa- tient's comfort or well-being will per- mit an unsightly array of medicine bottles, glasses and spoons to be oncon- stant exhibition before him. It is an excellent plan to have a small medicine closet fastened to the wall and have its content's exhibited only when neces- sary. Don't sleep Ln the sick room if you can avoid it. If, however, you have to do so, and you nat1lrally wish to know if thepatieut needs you, tie a piece of tape to the wrist and pili the other end to "the patient's bed, near his hand. where he can reach it easily. A slight pult will then awaken you. This pian is excellent, as in illaess the voice is weakened, and if the patient spoke or called you might not hear." RULE HELPS IN NURSING. Vaseline should be rubbed thorough- ly over bones and in creases when a patient has a long illness. Especially good in typhoid and malarial cases. The muscles are strengthened and friction prevented. It is well, also, to rub the parts over first with alcohol and tannin, or plain alcohol. One-half pint boiling water put on one-half teaspoonfulfut borax, one-half teaspoonful of saleratus and one tea- spoonful of glycerine makes a good wash for the teeth in typhoid fever. m. -- •o The iso paper basins in a sic k l o y are very light and can be thrown away if desired, and can be easily bought in any of the targe cities, also, paper sputa cups, which can be readily destroyed after the doctor bas examined the sputa. For bed sores, two ounces of Balsam Peru, six ounces vasellne, applied on cloth to sore. It a patient is seriously prostrated, do not let him help bimet'li. Elevate the foot of the bed six inches to aid the tired heart. RETURNED TO FIRST PRINCIPLES. A French writer hos bad a vision of the city of the future, °yelopolis by Hama. The city was full of wheels—bicycles, trycieles, monocycles, petroleum cars, autoears, and there is no telling what j else. But one day the inhabitants had a sensation. All the newspapers is- sued special bulletins. A man had been seen walking—yes, walkingon Itis own • les. The Cyclopolitans could hardly be- lieve their eyes, but so it was; and the wonderful stranger, we are assured, in walking,assed a w ge Bich soon became les- sons fashionable- sport. 131331 ORUELTX, I told her 1 would lay,the world at her feet. Whet did she say? She said 111 was that atbleLio I ought to be traveling with a show,