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The Herald, 1906-08-31, Page 7How Delicious" SuoS 1s the opinion of all vvl-io have once tasted Packed only in sealed lead packets to preserve its many excellent qualities. 40 and 50c per I1,. At all Grocers. Highest Award St. Louis, 1904 "She is a deuce weel-eddicated bei rn," after your drive. Here, Jessie, set a chair for the leddy by me, and bring cups and places. Where'll the ither leddy sit? Kenneth, mak' room 'twixt you and Mona." "Thank you, Mr. Craig," said Lady Finistoun, in her soft, sweet tones; "a cup of tea will be most refreshing after our long drive; for I stupidly lost my way, and my groom is a Londoner. I trusted for guidance to Miss Morton, who thought she knew the way, but—" "I did know the way," interrupted that lady, who was drawing off her gloves in preparation for an attack on tyle good things before her. • "You know when we came to where the road branch- ed off in the hollow you would keep to the left, though I said it must be to the right, No, thanks, no preserves; I hate sweets. I will take some cream scones and one lump of sugar, please." "I was so pleased to find Mona was here," resumed Lady Finistoun, as soon as her wants had been attended to. "I knew you lived here, Mr .Craig, for I have often heard Mona speak of Uncle Sandy"—a fascinating smile and upward glance—"but she is such a bad corres- pondent, she never let me know she was here, and if St. John Lisle had not come over to dine, we should not have found you out for ages. You take good care of her, Mr. Craig. I never saw her look so well—not even when you came out, Mona." "There is a remarkable fine air here; it's better than what you have over in Strathnarlie," he returned. "You see, we. are sheltered free the north, an' we get mair sun forbye the porridge. I have just insisted on. her takin" porridge to her breakfast." "Porridge is exceedingly indigestible, and bad. for the complexion," said Miss Morton, between the znouthfuls of cream scones. "Just"You're wren!" cried Uncle Sandy. look at the men at the men and women are reared on porridge! There's no their equals to be found on earth!" "My dear sir, I don't imagine you have seen much of earth beyond your native land." "You're wrong there again, mem. I've just come back from over a year's wan- dering wi' my niece about the continent of Europe; and there's little I saw there that I'd care to tak' awe'," "Ah, I see you are one of the large class who think their geese swans" "I'm much obleeged for your high opeenion, mem; but I am no such a file said Uncle Sandy, when Mona lighted his candle and carried it for him to his room -a little attention he always looked for —"and you are viselike to find so bon- nie, weel-behaved a girlie to mak' freends wi—nane of your upsetting taupies wi' neither brains in their heids nor hearts in their bodies. She can bide as long as yoit Iike, and sing for nig every evening. Mak' them gang to bed, dearie; it's lang burning the lights." "My dear Mary, you are a complete success!" cried Mona, when she returned to the drawing -room, and found her and Kenenth standing very close together in the window. "1 de not know when my poor uncle seemed. so Happy and content She will out me out, Kenneth." "Ah! that she never will! Nor would she wish it. It was a lucky hour for us when I met you, Cousin Mona." "I am glad you think so, Kenneth. Now we are not to sit up burning lights," continued. Mona, laughing. `There's splendid moonlight, which costs nothing," returned Kenneth. "Let usblow out the candles and have a little talk before we go to bed; we have scarce had a word together yet." The well -assorted trio sat for some time talking softly in the silvery rad- iance of the moon, the delicious perfume of the pine trees breathing on the .cool night breeze—and then crept quietly to their respective chambers. Lisle proved a true prophet. The day but one after his visit, Uncle Sandy and his guests had asembled in the library to their five o'clock tea. This was a serious meal. with bannocks and scones, cookies; bread. and butter, preserves; and toast. It served to support nature till eight o'clock supper, after which came prayers and bed. Mr. Craig had just "asked a blessing, when the sound of an ap- proaching carriage interrupted his attack on the toast and newly -made straw- berry jam. "It is anither visitor," he said. "Why, one might as weel be in Edinburgh' or London." "We had not many visitors in Lon- don," observed Mona. - As she spoke, Jessie, the youthful housemaid, came hastily into the room. "There is a leddy speerin' for you, Miss Craig!" she exclaimed, "a brew leddy, in a chaise wi 'twa pownies." "It must be Lady Finistoun," said Mona, rising. "I may bring her in, uncle?" "Eh? Surely. Ask her to tak' a ct of tea." Mona hastened to the door, befor ',kith, in a light basket -carriage draw by two wicked -looking dun ponies, sa Lady Finistoun, and beside her an elder ly lady made up in the most youthfu style. "Ah! my dear Mona! So you are a home. I am so glad." She gave the rein to a smart diminutive groom, and step- ped out quickly, embracing Mona with effusion. Lady Finistoun continued, " was so delighetd to hear you were within reach. I have brought Miss Mor ton with me. You know Miss Morton? No! Oh, well, you ought; everyone knows her." "Then I must be no one," said Mona, laughing. "I am very glad to see you, Evelyn. You must come in; we are at tea; my uncle begs;vou will join us." Descending the steps, she courteously invited Miss Morton to alight. `Certainly, with pleasure," said that lady, with much decision, and, followed by both new arrivals, Mona led the way to the library. Miss Morton was very tall, and rather bony; her long neck was surmounted by a small tread and a face short and broad for its size, rather of the pug order, with small, keen, light -brown eyes. Her com- plexion seemed to have suffered a good . deal from exposure to weatli!er, and was "onsiderab[y and undoubtedly powdered. She wore a very anasouline-looking over- coat of light tweed with a round cape, a small deer -stalker. cap, and a white gauze . veil tied round it, which at present was 'turned back with a curious effect. Lady Finis- toun wore a heather -colored costume, ex- quisitely. draped and fitting admirably --trimming, buttons, gloves, hat with a pheasant's wing, all matching to perfec- tionand admirably becoming to the pretty brunette fact and dainty figure of the wearer. • 'Uncle, let me introduce Lady Finis- toun and Miss Morton to you," said Mona.' "I am sure I am verra. pleased to see ony friends o' my niece," said Uncle Sandy, rising after two distinct efforts, and tousling on the visitors. Like most Seate linen, he was much mollified by the elg a£ a pretty face. "Ye'lI sit doon an talc' a cup of tea or a; glass of wine Kenneth and Mary blushed shnulan'e- ously, "I • see. No, certainly not," returned Miss Morton, with a harsh laugh. "Now, Mr. Macalister, the room is rather warm; haven't you a slrriibber•y or a garden, or something to show me? ,don't- care to sit here any longer." Kenneth rose reluctantly. , "Ob, yes; I can take you for a stroll" "1: am going to look at the grounds," said the resolute spinster to her chaper- one, "with Mr. Maealister." "My niece will—" began Uncle San but Miss Morton promptly interrupt him. . "Oh, no, thank you; I don't want a young ladies; a highlander is enough f me"; and she walked off, followed som what sheepishly by Kenneth. "Milly Morton professes not to li women," explained Lady Finistou laughing. "Main's the pity," said Uncle Sandy, dryly, "for I'm thinking few men would like her!" "I assure you they do. She is very popular, and has bade endless offers—to be sure, she has a Food fortune?' "Weet, weel1 siiier is nae everything In a wife. Noo, if you'll tak''nae mair tea, I'll go round the grounds with you my- self.' "Thank you," and Lady'Fiaistoun sat- isfied her host's �ieart with''exclamations of admiration and delicately administer- ed flattery. "Well, my dear sir, I must tear myself away. The shades of evening will be round us before we reach the Lodge, and I have not settled about Mona's visit." "I just leave it to herself." "What do you say, Mona?" turning to her. "I think, dear, you had better not trouble about it. I do not care about going to you when you have a party; and I do not like to leave my uncle, so I shall wait till you and, Lord Finistoun are alone, then I will spend a day with you, if you will have ine." "This is sheer nonsense. Finistoun charged me to secure you. Bertie is com- ing, too, and Lord. Arthur Winton, and St. John Lisle. They will all be so pleas- ed to see you." "It sounds very ungracious, but I really have not the -least wish to see them." "Yes; it is most ungracious; is it not, g orses, r some suob, thing, in Texas. So, after all, he might have ruined you as well as himself if you had married him:" Mona was silent, Some voice in her heart told her that had. she been his wife, the . tender consideration he had always shown for her would have kept hirci straight. But she answered the sug- gestion by the old counter question, "Ain I my brother's keeper?" "It grieves lee to hear such an amount of him," she said, after a few moment's dy,.1 silence. "He was kind and generous, ane ed deserved a better woman than I am." "Olr, you were always good! X am nY sure we were all fond of you. My moth- er er tool: your refusal to marry Mr. vv ar- e- ing dreadfully to heart; but Sir Robert would not let her write to you. }ie was eke awfully angry. Then you know what n, FIRE WA-teKING. A Strenuous norm of Worship and Devil Driving in India, A large trench is dug in front of the shrine -about thirty or forty feet long and ten feet broad and two or three. feet deep, Dar- ing the morning this is felted with logs of wood and fagots, which aro set on fire by the evening become a mass of glowing, red - bot embers. After dark the people assurable with torches and tom-toms and music, alai then thirty of forty !people prepare to walk lengthwise over the embers, . They are work- ed up to a great state of excitement by the I. tom-toms and shouts of the crowd, and that the whole thirty or forty walk barefooted, Quite slowly, and deliberately, in single file, headed by one of the "pujais." This custom of fire walicing is quite com- mon in Malabar, Itooriche, three miles from Telichery, in the direction of the French. settlement of Mahe, is a locality reputed fpr Sire walking. here a famous 'pujori" by the name ,of Oochatta dwells. He actually sits on a heap of fire at an annual fes- tival, but Is said to be protected by the barb of the areca nut, -which is known to be a bad conductor of heat. At the village of Putinam, thirty-two miles from Teliioli- ery, in the Kaval Taluq, North Malabar, a weird ceremony is performed annually, at midnight, in connection with the worship of the village deity, when the "pujari," who goes by the name of Chamandy, throws him- self incessantly on a heap of fire, about six feet high and fifteen feet broad, until he Is able to knock every fagot down and level the whole heap with the ground. One end of a rope Is fastened to his arms, while the other end is seized by two Mayali low caste men, who ,pull the 'pujarl" away each time he rushes on the hoop of fire. Two women at the same time, with brooms bring tho. fagots together as they aro knocked down by the "pujarl" and endeavor to restore the heap af fire as it is being dismantled by him. The wood is the "puum," a hard jungle wood of the Malabar forests. When the whole heap is levelled with the ground the "pujari" brings the eeremony to a close. Khaza Prabhu, a pepper merchant of Tel- lichery who died a few years ago, and whoao memory is still .green, had a great name hero for curing people h uo we. •. ..4s<.',.+.'2 of the devil, and was al great fire eater. to boot. He believed he was often sum- moned to the Sri Laltshmi Narasimha temple by the diety of this stirine to -cure people troubled with the devil. here he was wont toincarcerate therpeople ofaTei ichery,evils that and was everyroubl- loose stone one notices in the temple precincts represents one such devil driven out of the human body and imprisoned by him. These stones are granite slabs, are generally three to five feet long and rest against a wall or tree. eralthe deities, templesutof the number musteare neversev ex- ceed threotandyauhalf miles from Tellichery, oeach. At Audaloor ne na e, coo llage mmitteditatrocioousatha sins ssaatan bthe other deities pulled out his tongue, and An- deities,ram and drove out a the othertwo deitiesrrior fromthe temple, allowing only any number less than forty to dwell in any ono shrine. From this date Angarakaran, the warrior, carries a long sword, while 13appuran bears a sword and a shield as well, and they are the prin- ciple deities worshipped cluring the cere- mony of fire walking. Some of the minor dnane and are tichathan,i buttal sucharenot propitiated excepting Vassurymara, the small- ocx god; Chamandy, who puts devils into human bodies, and Illi and Makal—the mo- ther and her two children of the junglos— who smite •people with jungle fever.—From the Madras Diocesan Magazine. The Mysteries of Sleep. It is related. of a Chinese merchant .who was convicted of wife -murder and sentenced to die by being deprived of sleep, that he was elated between guards deanged hourly ror the purpose of pre - Mr. Craig ?" "Eh, I am no judge. Mona knows her own mind." "Well, Mona, you cannot refuse come to me next Thursday, the twenty- first. It is my boy's birthday. He will be a whole year old. You must come!" "No, I cannot refuse. On that day I will dine with you. I want to see the dear baby again." "Thank you, dear Mona! He has grown such a darling! Is there any use in try- ing to persuade you to join us, Mr. Craig?" she added, insinuatingly. "Not the least. I should 'me lie com- pany for a set o' gay Gallants! I am a thoughtful mon and puir frail body." "1 think it would do you good to come to us. However, 1 shall hope Finistoun may succeed in persuading •you. Now, where has Miss Morton wandered to with that good-looking •Ri1,hlander? It will be dark before we can get home," "I think they went round by the big oak," said Mona. "I will go and look for them." When found, Miss Morton proposed— as it was only three miles to the Lodge over the hill—to walk back under Ken- neth's escort, a suggestion which evi- dently alarmed hire. This Lady Finistoun decidedly nega- tived. "Don't talk such nonsense, `my dear. Mr. Macalister would not get back till idnight, and 'you ,would be too late for inner. Three miles over a hill -top are qual to six on a flat road. Come, let us e going." "You are a little tyrant," said Miss orton. "Will you walk with nee to the gate, one, while they are bringing round the nies? I am sure Mr. Macalister will me so far with Miss Morton." "With pleasure!" cried Mona: m d e b M ip 1 body. I have the mast intelligent men M f all t' o Imes on my side" ' e "Miss Morton has an intellectual love t co leo n of argument," said Lady Finistoun, t soothingly, and is generally in oppose tion to the fo"man she considers most Having bid a cordial farewell to Uncle u worthy of her steel, But I am anxious Sandy, and a' civil good-bye to Mary, Lady Finistoun slipped her aria through to see your "harming gardens if there t time after tea, Sir St. John �Lisle tells s me it is a gem of a place" "Weel, I hope you will come as often as you like to look at it," returned Unele I Sandy. "It is admirably situated, A family - place, I suppose?" asked Miss Morton, passing up her cup. "Naw!" exclaimed Thiele Sandoy. "I bought it with niy ain hard-earned money," "Oh, you lucky man! Of all powers, the one I envy most is the power of making money." "You have quite enough, dear," said Lady Finistoun. "Now, my dear Mr. Craig, I want you to spare my cousin to me for a few days. It is so long since we were together, and as we have rather a pleasant party, and the change—" "She's no your cousin," said Uncle Sandy, hastily; "she has no kin except me. Her grandmother's kin fell from her when she most needed them." "But she is indeed my cousin; and through her I claim you, too, my dear Mr. Craig, as a Kinsman, if you will Per- mit the claim," "It would be hard to say ye nay," he returned, a smile puckering Op his self- satisfied face. "Mona may please her- self." "Do you always wear the kilt?" said Miss Morton, abruptly, to Kenneth, "Mostly, when I'm among the heath- er." "It's very becoming," said she, with an admiring glance. "I do not wonder at Highland gentlemen wearing it, but you are all very conceited." "1 ani sorry you think so:" "Don't you admit it?" "I am not sure." "Ah! that is the cautious Scot all over, Tell me, aro you his nephew?" nodding in the direction of Mr. Craig, "And Miss Craig's brother?" "No; my name is Kenneth Maeallster," Mona's, and they walked slowly down the approach, "I have been Hying to ask you a undred questions, dear!" she 1 exclaimer. "What a droll, in - tensely Scotch Scotchman your uncle is! Quite a character. 1 am sure he is very rich. }las he adopted you ? Is he going' to leave you all •his money ? Is `young Locliinvar' a lover, or a rival near the throne ? Tell me everything." Mona laughed, and gave Lady Finis- toun a slight sketch of the situation, in which that interesting young peer- ess was immensely interested. "The `brew Hielandman' is no doubt nn excellent person," she said;. "but I should like to see you sole heir to your uncle's wealth. I suppose he is very rich ?" "Not acording to your standard, 1 imagine," returned Mona, "though I be- lieve he could make Kenneth independ- ent, and me, too; for I have Nita that woman wants but little here below to make her happy. Money can not buy what is most essential." "Oh, of course not! Still one wants a few necessaries. I often wonder how poor Geraldine will get on. She will not hear of the horrors which wait:on pov- erty." "May I," began Mona, with 'a slight hesitation, !`may 1 send my love to your mother ? I am so fond of her. Ane! you know she has a right to be angry with ins. I diel not behave well to—" "To poor Leslie Waring!" put in Lady Finistoun, as she hesitated. "No, you did not! Now, I dare say you are sorry for le ?" "I am very sorry I pained loin; but 1 am very glad I did not marry hirci, It would have been ,bad for both of tis." "Perhaps so. At any rate he is gone to the bad, so some one was telling me. Ile lost heaps of money on horses aiid at MonteCarlo; and he got into an aw- "Ah1 Highland to the backbone. Then fully fast set;; then he disappeated. They isr'this young lady your sister? say he •"Ess last aeon plowing or break - heaps of things she always has to do, so I suppose she gradually forgot" . Mona was silent. While Lady- Mary Everard forgot, she might have starved 'though she acknowledged that she had no claim on Sir Robert Everard and his wife, Thank Gnd! there were true souls to be fouud with hearts and memories. "You know, Mona, you are really lucky," Lady Finistoun was saying, when Mona listened again. "As soon as you threw away one fortune, you picked up another, 1 can see that the dear uncle is very fond of you, so—but," interrupt- ing herself, "I hear the carriage. Yes! and I protest Milly Morton has entrap- ped the handsome highlander to come so far with her. She is an awful flirt— can't live without it, in fact! She snakes such a fool of herself sometimes," Then came leave-taking, and the visit- ors drove off as the soft gloom of an autumnal night began to deepen in the east. "Do you mind walking back by your- self?" asked Kenneth. "1 am going up the hill a bit to speak a word to Allan, the shepherd." "Oh, no. I ani only a few steps from our own road, and there is nothing to fear among these delightful hills." "That's true. I'll be back before sup- per," and Kenneth went swiftly on, with a free, swinging step. The sound of the footfall had hardly died. away when another caught Mona's ear and seemed to gain upon her. In spite of her assertion that "there was nothing to fear," she felt an odd uneasi- ness that, though not absolutely fear, was unpleasant; nor was she surprised when a voice behind her said, "Good ev- ening, Miss Craig! I did not hope to see you so far afield." Then she was obliged to pause and turn and greet Lisle, who soon overtook her. He carried a gun on his shoulder, and was followed by a gil- oorim! And now came Lisle to stir up the less worthy side of her nature—for Mona was by no means an angel all round. She had de- bated with herself how sho should treat him; not with resentment—that, she told herself, she had no right to feel; not with cold avoidance, which was her natural inclination, and which he would interpet an expression of displeasure; but with friendly, good humored indif- ference. If , as he seemed disposed to do, he again tried to amuse a passing hour by making love to her, she would ac- cept it in a spirt of fun which should show out at intervals. Ile should never flatter himself again that he made any serious impression on her. "Can I not take the message for you," she said, looking up, with a demure smile, "It is a steep road to climb af- ter your day's tramp over the moor." ('2o be continued.! -6 6 MOTHER'S ANXIETY. The summer months are an anxious line (for mothers because they (are the most dangerous months of the year for young children, Stomach and bowel troubles come quickly during the hot weather and almost before the mother realizes that there is danger the little one may be be- yond aid. Baby's Own Tablets will prevent sunnner complaints if given occasionally, because they keep the stomach and bowels free from of- fending matter. And the Tablets will cure these troubles if they come suddenly. You may save your child's life by keeping a box of Baby's Own Tablets on hand to give promptly. Mrs. Frank Moore, of Northfield, N. S., says: "I do not know any medicine that earl equal Baby's Own Tablets .for curing stom- ach and bowel troubles. I always keep them on hand in case of emergency." Sold by all medicine dealers or by mail at 25 cents a box from The Dd. Williams Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. Plays Whist at too, Mrs. Lucy Ripley, of West Wrentham, Mass., is visiting her nephew, Edwin Cook, of Social street, Woonsocket. Mrs. Ripley is a remarkable woman. She is 100 years old, having attained that age 13.1. June 8, and still retains all her facul- M.rs. Ripley went to Woonsocket last Saturday, making the trip alone on the electric cars from West Wrentham, Last Saturday night in a party of four she played whist without the aid of glasses, and in other ways impressed those pre- • sent. She refused to talk about herself, saying that a woman es young as she feels has no right to be distinguished above others.—Providence Tribune. Out of Harmony. She :Why did Professor Sehineker stop playing at Mrs, Lard's inusicale? }le --He said he had to because the conversation was not pitched in the sank key as the music. venting him front sleeping. After the commencement of the eighth day his suf- fering was so intense that he implored the authorities to strangle, guillotine, burn him, drown hire, garrote, shoot, quarter, blow up with gun -powder, or put him to death in any conceivable way. Natural sleep has been defined as mental rest produced by an appetite resulting from fatigue. But the idea that mental rest means meatal inaction is hardly tenable, inasmuch es it quite frequently happens that the solution 'of unsolved problems is the first ening to appear in the coesciouaness on awaken- ing, and thus the mind must have been operative while asleep. It is commonly supposed that the greatest depth of sleep occurs about the end of the first hour. This, however, is not invariably the rule, according to my own observations in the Cook County (Chicago) Insane Asylum, made some years ago, when I spent two successive nights in hourly testing the depth of sleep by light, sound, and touch. A ma- jority of the ten cases I had under ob- servation showed the greatest depth to be at about 3 a.m. More recently Drs. Sante de Sanctis and N. Neyros, at the University of Rome, tested the depth of sleep in four normal persons by pres- sure upon the temple. One of these showed the greatest depth of sleep in the second and fifth hours, while the oth- ers showed the greatest depth between the first and second hours. Talking in sleep is more common than is generally supposed. Armstrong and Child ofund in twee hundred stu- dents, between the ages o ftwenty and thirty years, that forty-one per cent. of the women talked in their sleep, and most of them could answer questions.-, °Harper's Weekly. What School and Tenement Nurses Cost. (City Record.) The Department of Health spent Met? In 1905 for nurses employed in the nubile schools and in tenement house work for the care of tuberculosis and other contagions dis- eases. An allowance of 855,000 has been made for the same purpose for the present year.