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The East Huron Gazette, 1892-06-09, Page 64 Average" People. 1 wintry afternoon, that he came back to the The genius soars far to the fountain world once more. The amazed effort That feeds the snow-cap in the sky ; to realize where he was, or what But though our wings break in the flying, had happened to him, was of course a fail- ure. It was some dim but wondering re- assurance to him presently to see nis wife by the bedside, signing to him to be still, and gazing in his face with the unselfish de- votion of a loving heart. Then a doctor came, examined his pulse and temperature, and silently disappeared again ; and as, opening his eyes after a few minutes, he found himself alone and the room was dark- ening, there was nothing for it but to go to. sleep, with some vague hope that when he awoke agein he might be able to understand something. When he opened his eyes next the room was very silent, and a shaded light stood on a table in a distant corner. Not being able to call, he tried to think. The effort prov- ed in vain, for he could get no farther than an overshadowing fear that something very dreadful—the very worst, perhaps had hap- pened, and that he was only going to realise it now. It was painfully perplexing. Could a room like this belong to a prison hospital? Hardly—and he recollected having seen his wife. Convicts are not usually allowed to be nursed by their wives. Perhaps he had got off, by some trick of Clove his solicitor, and they had taken him away from the scene of his disgrace. Perhaps—worst of all, and the fear of it made him wish he had died rather—his trial had yet to come off. Presentlyh wife came in and kissed him. See had not for many years been wont to venture on that act of affection. Then some one came to the other side of the bed and also kissed him -this was his daughter Agnes. In the sudden fullness of heart brought on by this demonstration of pure and ill -merited affection, tears welled from the breken man's eyes, and he struggled to say : " Mary—Agnes—I don't ...care now what I have lost—or what has happened— if you stay with me !" " Dear, dear, we will always stay with you. You have lost nothing; you have been wandering in your illness." " Am I—at home?" " No, dear ; you soon shall be, when you get strong. Now sleep again ; we will stay with you." " Yes, yes, stay ; but I cannot sleep now. • Tell me everything." " No, Matthew. To -morrow you will be stronger. You must not talk or think to- night." " Very well !" he said with a sigh ; " but I can't help trying to think,' He dreaded to put that question which was uppermost in his anxious thoughts— whether he was still awaiting his trial. Try- ing to think, however, was of no avail, and at length he slept. Exhausted nature had much lost ground to make up before the balance was even again, and he did not wake until ten next morning. A bright gleam of sunshine rested an the side of the window, and was the first thing he saw. In a while the doctor came, look- ing cheerful, and pronounced him to have safely landed on that happy shore where the patient has only to get well as fast as he can. Matthew Bulbous took all the nour- ishment they gave him, and enjoyed it ; and then he learned, to his great wonder, where 1 e was, and the nature of the acci- dent that had befallen him. Simultaneous- ly with the warning shout from the door of the police station—which was the last thing he remembered—a run- away horse and trap dashed round the corner and struck him senseless. _ Searching his pockets, the police found his card, and recollecting that some person of the same name lived a short way up the Croydon Road, they made inquiries. This was how it came to pass that Matthew Bulbous was nursed through his illness in his son's house; though it puzzled him greatly to imagine why James Bulbous should be keeping the house on, his wife and child being dead, and he himself having gone abroad o d after the wife's death. - When the doctor went away, Matthew began to question his wife. All about the accident she knew and_told him ; but when he tried to approach the dread subject of the baby, cautiously feeling his way, as fear- ing what might have to be told him, Mrs. Bulbous grew puzzled and distressed, for she apprehended that he was againrelaps ing into that delirium which had been so terrible to witness. Dear Matthew," she suddenly said, " would you like to speak to Jem ?" " Ay," he answered drawing a deep °breath. " Is he here ? Very well ; send him to me." The interview would have to come sooner or later, and he might as well get it over. Matthew B+oulbous was not now his old self—of rock -like strength and inflexibility of character, but a broken down man—broken down first by misfortune and next by sickness. His sou might be as stern as he liked with him ; he was at his mercy -now. James Bulbous, however, did not look stern when he came to the bedside and took his father's hand. " I am glad to see you better, father." " Well Jem ? " The son regarded him a moment attentive- ly, still holding the weak hand. "Jem !" said Matthew Bulbous, gather- ing all his strength, " if you will listen to me—patiently and. forgivingly—while I con- fess how 1 have wronged and injured you" "Father, yon need not go into all that," said his son quietly. "I must, Jem—I must! I have been a fool. I have ruined myself, and disgraced you all by my folly. Oh Jem, Jem!" he ex- claimed with all his soul, "I wish it were all undone, and that I had the chance again of taking another course. I Won't say I could approve your marriage to that—to your wife; but it doesn't become any one to be hard on what he thinks another's folly; and I might, when she was dead, have had more Christian feelings. It was all done for sake of—Tem!" he exclaimed, gaining sudden strength from the thought of Lord Polonius, "upon my soul! I would rather see you married this day to an -even worse case than to that old villain's daughter." This burst of feeling did him good. The son waited for him to cool before he spoke again. - "Did you ever see my wife, father?" "See her? Why, of;couxse--W ell, no; I `can't say -I -did;. J.en+; but -let her be. - Joe told me all about her. Never mind, now. Tell' me'wliat has- happened—about the— _the baby,'._' he s:iid,.shutting.his eyes. "You_ will never forgive me that, Jem. Oh ! I have been so unnatural! \If I could only get your full forgiveness, Jem--and have satis- faction out of that wily old thief—I think I could die in peace." "I have something to tell you about him presently, father. But about my wife and And though our souls faint in the trying, Our flight cannot fol'ow so high ; And the s not from the mountain To arse �erlthe gre ound bird's low cry. The world has a gay guerdon ready To hall the fleet foot in the race ;. But on the`dull highway of duty, Aloof from the pomp and the beauty, The stir and the chance of the chase, Are toilers, with step true and steady, Pursuing -their wearisome pace. False prowess and noisy insistence May capture the garrulous throng But the " average" father and brother, The home -keeping sister and mother. Grown gentle and patient and strong, ,3hall learn in the fast -nearing distance Wherein life's awards have been wrong, Then here's to the " average -people," The makers of home and its rest; To them the world turns for a blessing «When life its hard burdens is pressing. For stay -at home hearts are the best. Birds build if they will in the steeple, But safer the eaves for a nest. HARPER'S BATAn A BOYCOTTED BABY. CHAPTER V.—JE11'S WIFE AGAIN—HER LAST APPEARANCE. The agony of thin suspense was wearing him out, and Matthew Bulbous felt, next morning, as if another twenty-four hours of it would drive him mad—unless, in self-pres- ervation, he rushed off to the nearest police station and gave himself up in anticipation of the action of the law. The house was intolerable, and he could not bear the disgrace of being arrested in the presence of all his clerks.. So he made away from London by way of Victoria Sta- tion, unconsciously leaving the train when it stopped at Penge ; and giving up his tic- ket at the gate, crossed the wooden bridge over the line, which he remembered cross- ing on the day of the funeral of his own son's wife—Christmas Day. It seemed so long ago now. Matthew Bulbous walked slowly down, the street of Penge, heedless of pelting sleet and of the fact that he was without an umbrella. His head was bent in ab- straction ; but his feet unconciously, were bringing him step by step to- wards the house in Croydon Road where, with most unchristian feeling, he had seen the hearse waiting for the dead woman. If it had to be done over again, he knew now how he would do it. Condone that marriage he could not, nor forgive his son for the act of defiance. But he recognised the hand of good -fortune which had first put an end to the matrimonial scheme between Lord Polonius and himself. Had he only recog- nised it at the time, he would never have suffered himself to fall into the Earl's hands again. He would have left things as they were. The baby would probably have died in any cane, and he should be free of this terrible burden which crushed him now. Then he went on to speculate as to what ewes probably at that very moment going on at the inquest. From this he proceeded further to speculate on the sentence he should be likely to receive—the ruin and shame he realized sufficiently well. It would be imprisonment with hard labour ; for a year, or two years ; or perhaps penal servitude for a longer term. And then? It was the coming to life again, rather than the imprisonment, which he dreaded most ; and it is very likely that it would have been a -relief to him to be assured, as he walked drenched and insensible to wet and cold down the dull suburban street, that he should be shut away from the world for ten or twenty years. What would not ten or twenty years wipe out ? He might reappear in the world, at the end of that period, for- gotten, and therefore less ashamed. But to come back soon—while the thing was still fresh in all men's minds—would, he knew, be the worst part of his punishment—a calamity that would be killing to a man of his unresting energy, who could not still sit and corrode in inactive obscurity. At the bottom of the main street of Penge village there is a police station, at a corner where Croyden Road crosses at right angles. Matthew Bulbous stepped quickly off the pavement in front of the sta- tion, stooping his head against the driving and blinding sleet in order to cross to the other side. He had gone but three paces when a shout from the door of the police station paralysed him, and heavy feet leaped down the stone steps and follow- ed him. As the policeman's grasp was on his shoulder he turned his white face to his captor -was struck in the head and chest - with tremendous force, and flung bank sense- less on the pavement. For weeks after this occurrence, Mat- thews Bulbous was knockedout of the world more completely than he had been gloom- ily anticipating just before it happened, and by a much more summary process. The world he was shot into proved to be a strange and bewildering one, and held mas-" terful grip of his raving fancies. It was a kind of world manifest - enough, from his hallucinations, to those about him ; but much of it was wholly incomprehensible, and almost all of it very dreadful. How many times he was pilloried in the dock for that crime of folly, it would be im- possible to say. The wretched man was being forever put on his trial, with not a word of defence to utter. Mr. Clove sat by, silent and powerless ; the loathsome Griffon, smelling of gin, with vile moisture glisten- ing on the bristles round her mouth, sup- ported him on one side ; the doctor on the other ; and now and again he caught sight of the distressful, pitying faces of his wife and daughter, and tried to avoid them. But when he beheld - Lord Polonius on the bench beside the judge, his rage was fear- ful; they had to hold him down on the bed; until, behind the justice -seat, appeared the face against which he had no power to hold up his head -nand then he always collapsed, moaping and burying himself in the pil- lows. How vividly he remembered her warning on Christmas eve: " According as youare kind and just to it, I will be merciful to you !" He had murdered it, he and those two vile confederates on each side of him ; and•seeing the dead mother be- e— hind, the_ udge,- - with her white ' face and. dark eyes fixed upon hi he knew that he had no mercy tohopefor. When the - dreadful_ trial was -over, and sentence passed, the worst punishment came because, instead of the merciful seclusion of the prison, he was condemned to undergo Iris degradation before all the world. His wife and daughter beheld him, linked to his detested fellow -malefactors tha Griffon and the doctor ; all the clerks from his office came.daily during luncheon hour to stare at him; businesa friends stood afar off, con- templating his coindition with pity ; ragged at -en jeered and hooted him and Lord sus drove round dailyin a slashing ,ahem in: order-- to turnhis head away with abhorrence. _ - sw Bulbous possessed an iron eon could not -,,have survived : all t. uld have killed an `ordin eeer'ly twl'Ight, one baby"-- " Jens, Jem, Jem—spare ' me ! If you knew how I have suffered—how your wife has haunted ene"-- -. - " But you never seen her, father ; how could she haunt yon ?" " It wasn't - the real one ; but all the same, Jem, she has haunted me—about that baby.” The perspiration was on his face ; there was rears there: " Poor father !" said James Bulbous, "you have been under a terrible delusion. Before I tell you what has happened,will you prem- ise to nurse no ill -feeling against others on account of it ?—to let bygones be bygones?" Matthew reflected. This was a serious proposition. But he was in a weak state of mind and body propitious to virtuous im- pulses, and after a while he answered : " Very well, Jem ; I promise—always ex- cepting Lord Polonius 1" " We will leave out his lordship, then," said the young man, smiling. " And now, father, I will tell you how it was. James Bulbous related the story of his wife and child. Matthew was simply stupe- fied. The whole thing had been a malicious scheme of Joseph Bulbous, intended to punish his masterful brother, and humble his pride by administering to him the big- gest fright it was possible to give - him. Joseph knew his man to the bone, as no other living person knew him, and the auto- cratic and self -sufficing brother had played into his hands with stupendous blindness. It was difficult to realize it. " Joseph deceiv ed you, father. He de ceived me also. Why father," said th young man grave ly, " if you had only mad inquiry of me even once—if you had only a lowed me to speak that day you saw me at my chambers—if you had not implicitly put yourself in Joseph's hands as you did—all this could not have happened." " Then, your wife—your child "--Mat- thew commenced, fearfully. They were both alive and well. Joseph, after leaving England —provided with the money intended forJames Bulbous's contin- ental Grip—addressed_a letter to his nephew recounting the whole plot. At the same time he despatched the telegram to his brother as a parting shot. The unfortunate child' belonged to some one else- for it was a plot j between Joseph and the woman Griffon, which paid the latter sufficiently well. The infant would have died in any case, in the course of nature—or business. " So Joe is gone, then ?" said Matthew re- gretfully. "I gave him four hundred pounds for you. " He is half -away to New Zealand now.— I know, father," the young man added, penitently, " I ought not to have been so stiff-necked. I ought to have written to you and explained. But my pride prompted me to work and be independent. I am sorrier now than I can tell you." There was no deception here ; his son's face was too honest. The Griffon and all the rest of that horror passed away like a night- mare—hideous, and as yet hardly compre- hensible -and the relief was indeed deep beyond fathoming. What a terribly realistic actor Joseph had been through all the horrible business 1 And what a terribly retic fool Matthew had been himself ! But Joseph knew him to the bone. and the conviction of _this fact covered Matthew with humiliation, which it is to be hoped did him good. The fear of. ruin and disgrace was gone now ; and what remained ? The wife and baby ! These dread images were still in his mind, and he had been doing his best for the last few minutes to think of them with grateful resignation But for all he could do, while thanking Heaven with one half of his heart that they were alive, the other half sank with _the thought of them living and his wife and daughter in the same house with them. It was more than melancholy. The woman might retorm ; he was doubtful, very doubtful as to this—but the taint would cling to her for life—and he recoiled from the thought of her coming in con:act with his own wife and daughter, whose value to 'nim now was beyond all riches. And then the baby !—such things, as though in mockery of human vanity and pride, were terribly tenacious of life, and, as Mrs. Grif- fon had pointed out, endowed with marvel- lous powers of endurance and survival. Thelon did not understand the grief which he saw deepening in his father's face. Present- ly he fancied he discovered its cause, and aughed quietly. "Don't laugh at me, Jem ; I'll bear it as best I can ; but for the Lord's sake don't laugh at me !" There was a soft rustle at the door, and James Bulbous made a sign to some person there. - "Father, my wife and baby," he said gently. Matthew shivered, and turned his pale face round to see. "What is this ?" be cried, starting up. " My wife and child, father. Gertrude has been nursing you, as well as mother and Agnes." As he spoke, he quietly slipped from the room and left them together. That pretty blushing face — how well Mat- thew Bulbous knew it !=the face that had been with him on Christmas eve, and had -been haunting him since! Richly- in`Zieed did the pleasant look - of Jem's wife this morning—and of her bright=eyed baby -re- pay him for what he had suffered. He drew them both to his breast and held them there, tenderly, thanking God for a mercy he had ,done so'little to deserve. ` - - That was,: profoundly happy hour that followed, with Jem's wi fe sitting on the bed- side and Jem's baby climbipg over hint.- No person interrupted them ; they were left quite alone, and it is hardly too much to say that under this new influence Matthew Bul- bous ulbous unconsciously floated into a life he had never known before. - He was soon back at Blackheath with his family. The last stimulus to his recovery came from the information that Lord Polonius had gone into the City with his money and had there come to ignominious grief, finishing his financial career in the Bankruptcy Court. Matthew Bulbous was profoundly pleased ; but still, he could not help a feeling of pity for Lady Jessalinda. Herfather had been a blight upon her. Should it ever come in Matthew's way to do the poor lady a friendly turn in the way of business, he will probably be tempted to do it, provided it is absolutely certain that Lord Polonius reaps no benefit thereby. Matthew read with deep and peculiar interest the report of the trial of Mrs Grif- fon and her accomplice the -doctor, and the painful revelations which were made. It still made him turn cold to imagine what might have been. He has abandoned the idea of entering Parliament, and is taking steps to sell Kirby - St. George. To the general world he isstill the same man he always has been ; but his eyes have been opened to -one or two impor- tant facts. He knows the value ot his do- mestic ties now, and the pleasure of coming home in the evening. After dinner, instead of shutting himself up in his study, as he used to do, he now sits by the drawing -room fire with pretty Mrs. Jem (and the baby) always near to frim. Agnes is to be married to the curate very soon. Jem, who his been called to the bar, works as hard as though his living depended on its and his fathor has privately assured the young roan's mother that one day Jem will be Lord Chancellor of England. "Gertrude," said Matthew one night to. his pretty daughter-in-law as thefact struck him for theifirst time, for whom are you in away at once, or. let chicken hens raise the mourning?" first pullets -•s ``moat unsatisfactory Tree ind innocent surprise— ceedin sed. She looked up with inn urp g' . nothavingthe least knowledge of the fraud that had been played on Mr. Bulbous—and replied : "For a little sister ot mine, who died at Christmas." " Ah -o€ course, my dear," he said with a slight start. " Now I remember. That illness has played the mischief with my memory." [THE END.] A Hatching Chest for Girls. In Germany they have a pretty fashion when the stork comes down the chimney and brings a -girl baby to make the house g.ad, to begin on her first birthday to form her trousseau. Her godmothergives the big, handsomely carved hatching chest, and in this goes gradually the bed linen, the napery, and the silver that, as an industri- ous fraulein, she is to carry into her new home. The American mother is beginning to seethe value of this custom, and the hatching chest now makes its appearance and is carefully filled. Grandmamma, wisely enough begins a set of tablespoons, and when the little girl is twelve years old, she will have a dozen of them, each bearing her initials. From an adoring aunt will have come the teaspoons, from an uncle the forks, and from mamma the handsomo nap- ery. Now, these things cost a lot of money, but as they are given so gradually on birth- days, not one feels that they are any great expense. After the twelth year come the bed linen and some heavier pieces of silver or fine ones of china. Suppose she should never marry ? Oh, hut she will keep a home for herself, and in it she will want to have her own belong- ings, or, if she should sink into the position left vacant by mamma, and the contents of the hatching chest should never be used, don't you think it will be a pleasure to her togive them to one for whose future there has not been so much care taken ? American women are not, as a general thing, accumu- lative. Something is bought to -day, dis- carded to -morrow, and forgotten at the end of the year. She who keeps things always has a stock from which she can be generous, and it is pleasant, even after death, to live in thesrnemory of one's friends, even if the thought comes with the fragrant tea out of the fat, silver teapot which has been yours, or the delicate -handled, old-fashioned spoons from which the preserves are eaten, and to which you devoted so much thought in designing. Don't you remember Mary Washington leaving to her son George her best feather bed? That showed a thought for the future, and a looking after Ms com- fort that are much to be commended. How- ever, without thinking of what one will do about willing things, start a hatching chest for your small girl; and conclude that she will use its contents in her own household. Small Sweet Courtesies. Life is so complex, its machinery so intri- cate, that it is impossible that the wheels should always move smoothly and without friction. There is a continual straining of every nerve to gain and keep a place in this overcrowded, busy world. What wonder if in the hurry and pushing the rights of others were trampled or completely ignored/ when every individual is in such haste that time fails for the " small, sweet courtesies of life !" But it is the little offices of friendship— the encouraging smile, the appreciative word, the thought for our preferences, the avoidance of our prejudices—which make life easier, and which lessen in a marvelous degree all its worries and perplexities. For nothing prevents friction so perfectly as the exercise of what we sometimes disdainfully call the minor virtues. As though one should be endowed with truth, and yet lack- ing prudence and delicate Insight and cir- curnspection, wound with sharp needle pricks the sensitive hearer. We do not care to be constantlyreminded of our fail. ings. A gentlewoman never fails in the small, sweet courtesies. _ Instinctively she respects the feelings of others, and, having the golden rule by heart, it is from her heart that all lovely, los e -compelling graces flow. "In her tongue is the law of kindness," and she has the ready tact which takes advan- tage of every opportunity to render the lives of others happier. "And every morning. with 'good -day,' Makes each day good." $er winning smiles and gentle ministra- tions, -her soft voice and unfailing sympa- thy, insure her always a ready welcome, and, like the sun, she "finds the world bright, because shemakes it so." Minute Wonders of Nature. Hunan hair varies in thickness from the 250th to the 600th part of an inch. The fibre of the very coarses` wool" is only the 500th part of an inch in diameter while in some species of the sheep it takes 1500 of their hairs laid side by side to cover an inch on the rule. The silk worm's web is only the 5300th part of an inch in thickness, and - some of the spiders spin a web -so minute that it would take 60,000 of them to form a rope an inch in diameter ! A pound's weight of spider's web of this size would reach arouid the avorld and then leave enough to reach from New York to San Francisco. A single grain of musk has been known to perfume a room for twenty years. At the lowest computation that grain of musk must have been divided into 320,000,000,000- 000 particles, each ot them capable of affect- ing ffecting the olfactory organs. The human skin is perforated by at least 1000 holes in the. space of each square inch. For the sake of argument, say there is exactly 1000 -of these little drain ditches to each square inch of akin surface. Now estimate the skin sur- face of the average sized man at sixteen square feet and we find that he has 2,304,- 000 pores. Cultivation of Turkeys. "A farmer's daughter" says : The first turkey hells which show a- desire to sit should be allowed to do so, as the fresher the eggs the better the hatch. Let them have only 10 to 12 eggs at the - start, the remainder being given to some trustworthy old Plymouth Rock matrons, which can easily cover eight to ten turkey eggs apiece. A:sufficient number of turkey hens should be set-to go with the young: turkeys, as they are so much finer and mere thrifty when reared by their natural mothers. Some persons put as many as 25 or 30 in one brood, but my- experience teaches that a larger per cent. are raised when the broods are smaller. It is also a good plan to have several turkey hens come off at once ; they and their broods are no more trouble to care for than one would be ; in fact, they are much more tractable, it being the nature of turkeys to go in companies. One alone is always restless and illat ease, seldom con- tent to remain long enough in one place to give her little ones the requisite rest. Many poultry keepers insist that each hen shall produce two clutches of eggs before sittings- but itting;but this compels one to keep the first eggs so long that they might as well be thrown PRINCESS LOUISE. How Her ,Royal Highness Ironed a Colored Man's Shirt. A lady who was living in Bermuda at the time beard H. R. H. Princess Louise herself tell the following story at the tea -table a few hours after the incident that it relates to occurred: The princess had been out sketching and had a tin cup in which she wished to get some water to wet her brushes. Seeing an old colored woman standing near a window ironing she went into the house, and asked tor some water. There was none in the house, and in order to get it she would have to go quite a distance to the spring, so she said : " Lor' sake, chile, I ain't - got no time to go for de water. I've got ter git dis yere shirt ironed so as my ole man kin go to see the 'cession to-morrer." There was to be a procession in honor of the princess. " If you will get me the water I will iron the shirt," said the princess. " All right, honey, I'll fetch it in a min- ute." While she went for the water the prin- cess ironed the shirt and when she was about to go she said : " Aunty, are you not going to see the pro- cession ? Don't you want to see the prin- cess. " Lor', chile, jest look at dat heap of cloes dat is got ter be washed. 'Sides, dey say she ain't only ordinary lookin', jes' like our- selves." The princess then told her who she was. " Bress de Lord, honey, an' you is ironed my ole man's shirt. : e shant neber wear dat shirt agin." The princess, in telling the story at the supper table, said that her mother had all of her daughters taught how to cook and how to iron, and she remembered her say- ing once when she (the princess) demurred about ironing : " You don't know but you may have to iron your husband's shirts sometime, and you must know how to do it ;" then she added, " I am sure I ironed the shirt well." After supper the princess was sitting on the veranda with other ladies when she saw some very fine roses that one of the ladies was gathering, She spoke to a little 5 -year- old girl who was near her : " Teresa, won't you please ask your mother if she will give me one of those roses ?" The little girl looked at her a moment, and then said : " You mean my mamma, don't you ?" ' Well, yes, if that is what you call Tier; but I always call my mother mother." " That's 'cause you are a big lady and not a little girl." " I always called her mother when I was a little girl. Do you know who my inother is ?" "No." " She is the Queen of England." `" What a fib," said the child, which caused a laugh in which the princess heartily joined. - - T heFirst Umbrella in England. Jonas Hanway was the son of a store- keeper in the dockyard at Portsmouth, and on the death of his parents was bound ap- prentice to a merchant in Lisbon. When the terra of his indentures had expired, he went to St. Petersburgh, where he became partner in a good house of business, and be- ing desirous of opening up a trade with Persia, and also of penetrating into that land of mystery, journeyed thither, meeting with strange and wild adventures and en- during many hardships. But he picked up much information, which, on his return to England, he published ; and he brought back with him rich experiences, a fair compet- ence, and—an umbrella ! Picture Jonas Hanway, with his plain honest face and his suit of broadcloth, walking through the streets of London, the first man who ever used an umbrella! People stood and star- ed, boys jeered and hooted, and some thought him orad, while others only laughed at him as being eccentric. But Jonas had a purpose ; he found the umbrella useful in wet weather to shield him from the rain, and in summer to keep off the sen, and at other times to serve him as a stick, and wherever he went he persistently carried this curiosity, until people got accustomed to see it. After a time, on wet days, Jonas was not the only man to use it ; one after another took to the " ridiculous " umbrella until at last a new trade was originated,and to -day it is the source of a livelihood to thousands. Gigantic Extinct Birds. Those who haveread the story of Sinbad the Sailor, and who has not ? will be inter- ested to know that there is some foundation for the supposed -to -be fabulous stories he told of the roc and its monster eggs. Orni- thologists have figured that it was a monster specimen of the Epinoris family of birds, which are known to have formerly lived in Madagascar. The prize -takers among the Epinoris stood (according to skeletons which have been found in guano beds) a fraction of twelve feet high, and laid eggs, specimens ot which are now in existence, which were as large as a two gallon jug and had a hold- ing capacity as great as 148 good sized hen's eggs ! The giant moa, which did not become extinct until after Captain Cook's visit to New Zealand, was larger in point of weight and bulk at least than Sinbad's roc. The moa was hut nine feet high, but he weighed over a thousand pounds. It was so clumsy that Cook's sailors had no difficulty in kill- ing several of them with the hand spikes which were used about the ship. The great auk, another species of bird now extinct, was nut so remarkable for its size as for the famous sum of money now asked and given for specimens of its eggs. In the year 1889 an egg of the great auk sold in London for £225. The Sweetest Things of Earth. 'What are the sweetest things of earth! Lips that can praise a rival's worth; A fragrant rose that hides no thorn; Riches of gold untouched by scorn. A happy little child asleep' Eyes that can smile though they, may weep. A brother's cheer, a father's praise; The minstrelsy of summer days. A heart where anger never burns ; A gift -heat looks for no returns. Wrong's "overthrow : pain's swift release ; Darkfootsteps guided into peace. The light of love in lover's eyes; Age -that is young as well as wise, - A mother's kiss. a baby's mirth— TheQe are the sweetest things of earth. Paper Oovered Ballets. In consequence of the enormous initial velocity of the bullet in the new Mannlich- er rifle and the resulting friction and wear on the barrrel, it has become necessary to devise some method preventing both of these evils. The manager of the Government laboratory at Thun, Switzerland, has con- sequently devised a method of enclosing the leaden -bulletin a thin metallic covering, while "over this'; he places a wrapper of specially =prepared oleaginous paper, which reduces the ¢ear of the :rifle barrel to a minimum, without.h interfering with the r ACROSS TET. Something About the Latest Yl edition Into the Land of the Lams`. Capt. Bower of the Seventeenth Bengal Cavalry, and Dr. Thorold reached Shanghai on April 1, having journeyed from Cashmere through Thibet to the Chinese -e ovince of Szechuen, an exploit without a ?simnel by Europeans. The greater part of the jour- ney was made at an elevation of 15,000 feet above the level of the sea, and for a fort- night the road was 17,000 feet above the level. The party, which consisted of Capt. Bower, Dr. Thorold, and nine East Indians, spent just a year on the journey, eight months of which were passed in the elevated country thatis seldom visited by Europeans. A part of their route was traversed by the explorer Rockell and by Prince Henri of Orleans and M. Bonvalot, but no prev- ious explorers had the same opportunities for observation or penetrated so far among the high plateaus that are exceeded in ele- vation only by the Pamirs, so aptly called the roof of the world. The party started from the northwest corner of Cashmere in April, 1891. They were well supplied with horses and luggage. They made a diagonal course _straight across Thibet and entered China near Tu-chien-tu, in the southwest extremity of the province of Szechuen. Ten months were consumed m this journey, which was made in the face of many hardships and considerable danger. The cold was intense on the high pla- teaus 15,000 feet above the sea level over which they travelled for five months. Much suffering from cold was experienced at the outside because, to avoid the guards placed by the Dalai Lama on the frontier of Thibet, they were forced to go far to the north and cross the uninhabited table lands. For days and weeks they travelled over these elevated plains. The only traces of any previous travellers were an occasional pile of three stones, placed like an equilateral triangle, which marked the camping ground of a party of nomads. The only vegetation was a low -ling heather. There was noth- ing to make a fire of except the dung of wild horses. The plains were alive with game, however—wild horses, antelope, gazelle, and yuks—and the leaders of t}le party had good sport. The cold told severe- ly upon the Indians and the horses, the party losing about thirty of the latter. In the middle of these great plains they had a narrow escape from a party of no- mads, who threatened to put them out of the country. The fellows were not strong enough to make an attack, but they hinted at reinforcements near by, so Capt. Bower saddled up at dead of night and soon put a good distance between himself and the blackmailing bandits. Near the sacred city of Shassa they were stopped by a large party of Thibetans, who apparently thought they had some intention of defiling the sanctuary of the great Lama. They explained that they had no - designs on Shassa and. asked to be allowed to proceed, but they were kept waiting while a party went to the capital, eight days' journey and return, and secured the necessary permission. The Captain and his companion have brought back 200 specimens of butterflies and flowers gathered on the elevated plains, and many specimens of animal life. When the story of their expedition is written it will add materially to the world's knowledge of the interior of Thibet. Torture of a Chinese BebeL A despatch from Shanghai describes the execution of one of the chiefs of the recent rebellion in Mongolia, Theman was brought in chains to Tientsin, and after being ex- amined for several hours by the Viceroy, Li Hung -Chang, was executed by the "slow process," ling chi -slicing to death (literally, cutting into ten thousand pieces). The wretch was fastened to a wooden cross, and the executioner proceeded to cut slices from him here and there, beginning with the end of the nose, then cutting off pieces of the arms and breast and legs, but carefully avoiding a vital part. It is usual in the case of this punishment for the friends of the condemned to bribe the executioner to give the victim a fatal stab at an early stage in the proceed- ings, but it happened that the rebel had no money and no friends in that vicinity, and, besides, the executioner was carefully watched by the officials, who saw to it that he should show no mercy, even if he was so inclined. So the torture went slowly on for an hour and a half, until the wretched victim presented a most hideous spectacle, being denuded of the greater part of the outer flesh, and yet still alive. At last the officer in charge ordered the executioner to strike off the criminal's head. The latter was evidently conscious, for he heard the order and bent his head to re- ceive the blow. Throughout the whole scene the victim never uttered a groan or an appeal for mercy, though his compressed lips showed fiat it was not without effort that he maintained his apparent - stolidity. Several foreigners who were present at the scene say that it was the most cruel Chinese execution they ever witnessed. Queer Facts About Colors. A dog belonging to Hercules Tyrius was one day walking along the sea shore, when he found and ate a murex, a species of shell- fish. Returning to his master, the latter noticed that the dog's lips were tinged with color, and in this inanner Tyrian purple was discovered. T1 e color was used in the robes of emperors and nobles, and the ex- pression "born of the purple" meant that the person was of high birth. It is strange to think that the favorite color of royalty can be traced to the curiosity or hunger of the dog of Tyre. In the seventh century the favorite color of the Scotch Convenanters was blue, and blue and orange or yellow became the Whig colors after the revolution of 1688. Green is the color of the Irish Roman Catholics, while opposed to it is the orange of the Orangemen or Protestants of the north of Ireland. Ecclesiastical colors include all the primary colors and black and white, which are used at various church offices. The Cardinale of the Roman Church have adopted scarlet as their color, which was originally red. In ancient Rome the occupation and rank of many people were made known by the colors of the garments which they wore. Black is in common use among us for mourn- ing, but the Chinese wear white, the Turks wear violet, and in Ethiopia brown is the proper hue. White was originally the mourning color in some European countries, but black is generally accepted now. Dif- ferent colors have frequently been adopted by opposing parties, and the colors of vari- ous nations are incorporated in their flags, for instance, the "red, white end blue" of the United States. The silk petticoat for full dress shed be cut with the bias seam in the back, lie the dress and trimmed with one deep finance, with 3iarrow Hiissien lace on ell bv.2 edge A., ki3O /s] • Sisters : 1 have h by 3 (m;; helpful tal time for me to tout tell you how I reno was made with e pia skirt, acid after I ha as oue of my best d faded and show sir • it apart and brushe wrong side out an.' front and the sides, he dress was tree V-shaped front,bla• Then I hada dr *a term of school, an ly ready lot the rag package or two of after ripping and w - brown. Of course trimming, so I got small striped goods I wit a strip severa skirt to make it I shrunk in dyeing. sleeves was of the s front from the nn about two inches of and extending fro the darts. The r in with pleats of adding a collar an tenial, i had a dres- for another term o little trouble and e . I think there is shabbily dressed, of fashion plates, d and ingenuity, an transformed into o• does nearly as muc A dressmaker will -exactly fit you, for girl should learn e • to make her own mon everyday dre'- as mach more to s costs to get them used, if washed a carefully .pressed. on the wrong side ducking or crinol' h'ng smooth and s new waist lining. than if old is used.. Girls, remember ly and prettily m-• sive material all bo material will pay be made over sever the Housekeeper. . '4 The The firs; snmme, to the many g - gowns now shown er suit of jacket, skirt promises to for the coming materials, from pia white duck and general utility this celled. The new ly different from t upon the cut jacket the esti, depends. The ne ladies are made w Eton jacket and ell back. Still anotb: belted blouse, ada. by open fronts whi. beneath. A more has the jacket be and flowint loosely are finished with s out a notch. While plain blu: material for outing introduced in a va brown, white, brig are also soft cloths and twilled weave who object to the fish serge. The new duck su pecially popular fo as easily Laundries), ham gown and can ness repeatedly. simple bell skirt pointed at the top side and is worn ov batiste. A jacket ing f rontsand belts the suit. This s without the batiste shops. The batis These Butts are es. batiste, sprigged •• black or color, or s stripes. They are waists in red, nay' seeded with fine batiste waists are white duck. For and worsted outin changeable silk, eit seeded with whit: white and the co hair lines in flower for shirt waists. For misses and suspender suit ma. and bell skirt, a guipure of bright for serviceable generally made o skirt is finished wi the bias seam at around the "flips at to seven little gor: and two or three, - either side. This - without the silk -guimpe costs from are a few suits in t ing girls, made teaching about mid The blazer suit, girls from ten to -si the one worn by skirt is simply fini where the belt sho, completely concea waist of white la The blouse is made deep square collar . embroidery, and a of the front trim,. embroidery. A high sleeves, sma and 'flowing in fr when an extra wra, Children's comb simple styles which A little more embr. season. 'Very freq dress material, abo ishes the neck of bl vet -sashes of ribbo • are used on small they often begin o to the waist line, in front and pass a thew are tied in a Vine and white striped is very pro Challlies in rich colo Arestill very pop r any occasion �sssixsoired fo $