The Clinton News-Record, 1898-11-24, Page 12a1141.0•1111•141111,4mistre40.••!11'►2
About the House,•
ta'MN•N♦*N••••N•• *0e.
STORIES OF THE SEA_e
By EDWARD JI NKINS, M.P.
Authgr of " Little Hodge," " Lord Bantam," " Ginx'e Baby," Ac.
CHAPTER V. (Continued.)
Th. two sailors scratched their
he
t�riud looked quizzically at that of
tsoner. It resembles at the mo -
Went one of those useful implements
denominated a "pope's head with
which housemaids are wont to assail
.spiders and dust In the cornices of
lofty rooms. There was not the fain-
' test symptom of a parting anywhere.
Sinclair. It mought ha' been parted
in the middle, don't ee think. sir ? (To
the fourth officer.)
Blackpool. Yes. All right, sir I
Captain. "Large black whiskers,
tn►orn a la Dundreary."
Ambo. Right you are, Sir.
" Dundreary, ye scoundrels! And
who or what is Dundreary, does either
one of ye know , "
Captain. "Heavy moustaches."
Ambo. Reg'lar Rooshians, sir!
Captain. "Low forehead—big eye-
brows—black shining eyes—long chin—
prominent nose." How does that strik'
you, Stackpoole?
Stackpool. Like two bights of the
same hawser.
Captain. "Dresses handsomely in a
frock -coat, or, when travelling, in a
tweed shooting suit."
They all look round the cabin. Mr.
Stackpoole with a long, brown middle
digit, indicates on the peg at the head
of the "' prisoner's" berth a suit of
grey Irish tweed.
Ambo. True to a knot, sir I
Capt'lin. "Large 'diamond ring on
left little finger."
Mr. Feet proves his hand instinc-
tively, but the fourth officer is too
quick for him. He darts tforward,
Seizes the left hand, and there, sure
•enough on the little finger glitters a
large Cape diamond.
Stackpoole. Diamond it is, sir,
clear as the North Star.
--- +i :;Powers above I" said poor Fax. "It's
a plot to ruin me!"
Captain. Prisoner, keep silence till
,you're fully identified.—"Very power-
ful build—seems about 5 feet 8 or 10
inches in height."
Ambo. Every word true, sir! Looks
like a young hex!
"Five feet eight, do ye say?" cries
Mr. Fax, indignantly. "I'm five feet
•eleven in my stockings, as live. Will
ye have have me measured, captain?"
Captain. "Good address and very
gentlemanly manner."—Humph!
"There they have me," interrupted
the prisoner. "That and the diamond
-are the only two points that are true
to fact!"
Ambo. Undoubted swell, sir t
Captain. "Probably has a wound or
bruise on his left eye." ,
Ambo. Left eye as blue as f.lue-
Peter, sir 1
Captain. "Talks ixerman, French,
and English."
"Sorra a bit of German ever dirtied
my mouth," shouted Mr. Fax, emphati-
cally,
Captain. No French either, eh?
Fax. Mais oui, Monsieur le Capitaino
a merveille.
Captain. Iiia I Then that will ,do.
Notice that, my men, speaks French
like a Nantes skipper.
'Does he P' growls Mr. Fax in greater
wrath thin ever. "Me, that the Em-
peror didn't know from a French -
,
man." •
Captain. Outside, there, fetch in the
Irons!
At, these words the unhappy rex,
giving a roar that shook the cabin,
'made an effort to Jump out of his birth.
But on the signal six or seven men
. rushed in, and each securing a limb
-or a portion of one, the luckless m'n
lay completely at their mercy, still
roaring with all his might. The riot
alarmed the lady who occupied the
purser's cabin. They could hear h'r
giving vent to her anxiety in loud
lamentat ions.
"They're killing him?" she screamed
through the thin partition.
"No harm, madam; don't be alarm-
•e,d," shouted the captain.
Poor Fex—Corhoean 'was by this time
- subdued and unconscious; and the
•captain, leaving two sturdy sailors
under the quartermaster to guard his
prisoner, went off to his chart -room,
with the pride of a man who had done
his duty. 1
It was soon all over the ship among
the officers and crew—the only peo-
itle able to be about—that the murderer
ad been seoured in the captain's cabin.
once, when the steward who waited
The closed doors and battered hatches
allowed no air to penetrate below, and
to the horrible awinging and shaking
of the vessel was added the steady
poisoning of the victims by confined
and rebreathed air. It is strange that
with all those resources of meohanical
science which are available in the con-
struction of these huge floating pal-
aoes, no successful means should yet
have been devised to produce between
decks and in the gorgeous pabine, that
most successful antidote to seasick-
ness—fresh air. What are electrio
no one will feel more eorry than he bells and gilded cornices to a vomit -
that any friend of Lord Pendlebury'a ing ;°'animal ? What is the healthy
shoould have been maltreated in his ozone of a deck rising and falling be-
ehtween sixty degrees of variation from
the horizontal, to a creature lying be-
low, pitilessly turned upside down and
inside out amid the smell of bilge wa-
ter and cookery 1 Give us more air,
my masters, more air, an you would
have us reconciler} to the pleasures of
the "melancholy ocean."
The steerage—on the main deck be-
low the spar deck— had been, dur-
" Oh, pray let him hot regard me
in the matter at all," replied Lord Pen-
dlebui`y. " But you may perhaps know
that Corcoran is a nephew of Lord
Surnmerton, and of sufficient conse-
quence in himself to demand the cap-
tain's best amends."
With that Lord Pendelbury
ran off to his unfortunate mg the three days, a purgatory
friend whom he found eye- in more senses than one. It was impos-
ing his guards in mute horror, and Bible to rig up wind -sails, and the foul -
listening to occasional groans and sighs ness of the air below prostrated many a
which could be distinctly heard from sturdy constitution, Here, however,
the purser's oabin.
" Pendlebury 1" he cried. "I had en-
tirely forgotten you! Only think of
this. Accused, under the name of Cain,
of murdering my brother Abel.,,Con-
vioted of dyeing myself—my hair,
my friend, ' that never knew a single
hue that nature had not painted!' Cut
down by an inexorable law to five
feet, eight inches, which I haven't been
since I was sixteen. Handcuffed by
these ruffians—I shall never survive
this 1 Whisper, my lord. Open that
small box there. It's my medicine case.
You will see a small phial, No. 28,
marked strychnine. I always kept it
when she was about, in case I should
need it. Just hand it to me secretly,
like a Christian friend, and say no
more,' •
No, Corcoran I I cannot spare you
yet. You must last out this voyage,
at least. Wouldn't the whole Castle
go into hysterics over this! I sent off
the old knight you bit so hard in the
stomach yesterday, to arrange matters.
He's a sly commonplace curmudgeon,
but he may be useful. Remember, you
must not claim vindictive damages'
" Ten thousand pounds) Not a farth-
ing less! They've bruised me all over;
charged me with murder, dyeing, rob-
bery—shortened my length, and per-
haps my life."
Never mind. If you threaten them
with such penalties as that, you know
it will pay to throw you overboard."
This argument produced an impres-
sion. "I say, Pendlebury," he said in
a low tone. "Do you hear her, next
door ? She has been going on that way
ever since this happened. Curious eh?
Is it possible she grieves? No matter,
I'll never forgive her."
Lord Pendlebury was a man of the
world but he looked a little hooked at
the collness of Mr. Corcoran.
"You forgive her, Corcoran! Come
now, that's too audacious! You for-
get, man, that it all came out in evid-
ence—though, God knows, I don't want
to be hard on you—and that it was
you who were defendant, and it was
against you the Ordinary gave judg-
ment."
"Bahl" cried Corcoran, earnestly.
"It all comes of your ridiculous Eng-
lish justice. You try a case in six
hours, and scamp it, while an Irish
Court would take six days at it, and
give arnple justice for the money! On
my honour, Pendlebury, as a gentle-
man, as I stand before God, I tell you
there was not a word of truth in the
charge • We had no children, and she
had nothing to do but to watch and
nettle me, and I was always more live-
ly than discreet, but, as sure as I live;
she never had any just cause to com-
plain of me. Her attorneys were de-
termined to win their case, end they
got the 'proofs'—as they! call them—
butthere was no truth in the charges."
"Whew I" said Pendlebury. "Tout
peut se retablir."
"No, no ; she is married. I'm glad
to say I'm relieved of the trouble of
thinking about it."
"How do you know'?'
"What is she doing here? She must
be travelling with somebody. That
somebody is her husband."
"Where is he then?" inquired the
peer.
"I don't know. I1I, on his back, in
one of the lower cabins.—Ah I what's
this now ?"
Sir Benjamin Peakman and the cap-
tain entered. The knight in his bland-
est manner made the humblest apolo-
gies for his errors of yesterday. The
captain more awkwardly endeavored to
make his peace with the Master in
Chancery.
"Captain," said the Master, with a
grave face, "I'll forgive you on one
condition. Do I talk French like
a Nantes skipper 1 Am I six feet
en Lord Pendlebury !took him hie''KAfght inches? Is my hair dyed? Do
breakfast at the usual hour of nine, the
*bole story, with many emhellish-
anentn, was retailed for his benefit. To
the narrator's surprise, the young
lord laughed at the top of his trent.
"Well, you are a yet of duffers 1"
he cried. "Go and tell the captain to
let the poor fellow off immediately, or
there will be the devil to pay. That
gentleman Is a friend of mine, a Mas-
ter in Chancery in Dublin, and this is
as; gtiod as two thousand pounds dam-
ages to him! 0 dear, 0 dear 1 Cor -
toren, you'll kilt me with laughing."
The young lord having dressed him-
self rapidly, his loud occasional guf-
faws sounding through the thin bulk-
heads, and exciting the greatest indig-
nation among his neighbors at the
untimely mirth, was on his way to the
deck, when Sir Be,jamin Peakman
eneountered him in the passage.
"I have only just heard," he said,
-bowing in his most conciliatory man-
ner, "to whom I am indebted for the
courtesy shown yesterday to my daugh-
ter in very trying circumstances. I
arta very hippy, Lord Pendlebury,
knowing many of your friends, to make
you acquaintance. Let me present
mvnelf—Sir Benjamin Peakman."
'Lord Pendlebury bowed—rather alif-
1 y.
"Pray, Sir Benjamin," he said, "do
not take the trouble to teenythe slight der his care were an unusually large of theewels form a realistic imi-
end very ordinary attention I was number for the season of the year and 'talion of the sca3ea
happy to render to the young lady. I its invariably furious weather. They It is said that often as Queen Wal -
hope [
fright. he Isanone
emthe wwo if you will rse for her kept him busty at all points. Their, helmina varies her toilet during the
cries, their tears, their adjurations, !course pf the day she is never seen
excuse me, to my poor friend in the their oaths, their throat's, their ter -;without this chain, and innumerable
captain's enbin, who has fallen .the
rors—nil of which he would like to' are the explanatidhs, and even ro-
a ridiculous serape, the result of our (ruin treated with contempt., but dared ' manoes, which have been invented to
skipper's overzeal."not, for these people know bow to take ' account for a fact which may easily
"'Your friend, Lord Pendlebury?" Iheir money's isot'th oui of the com- be asoribed to the beauty and value of
gasped t'he knight. ponies—hrnusrht, down Mr. Crog in the ornament itself. Costly copies are
"Yes, Mr!•Pefer Corcoran, an Trish three dnys from a etnte of breathless beginning to appear In some of the
lVfaass whim trn(r'r'ba fiel ry, whoognito has taFk i, redundancy to one of breathless emnci-'shops in the Rue de la Pax, and pro-
ntinn, and altered his colour from n mise to be very popular,
you retract these and all other person-
al reflections?"
Captain Windlass, being more of n
honest sailor than a man of the awl!,
did not relish this raillery: but se: t oo'r
off the irons with his own lends, and!
Mr. Crog held on his way, overwhelm-
ed by labor, whu^h was shared by a
s'ewardess, Mrs. Crog to Hit, and by
the doctor, a little man who, coming
on board a very pale pink, had gradu-
ally taken on the look and colour of
a dirty piece of parchment.
Unhappy doctor 1 He is the one man
on the ship who cannot shirk his
duty, and often the man least fit for it.
When my Lady Peakman feels !that
nausea defies all the coaxing arts of
her maid, and all the faint ,resolu-
tion she can .herself muster, the doc-
tor must be fetched from bed, or
board, or cabin, or steerage, to go
through the idle form of prescribing
agtln what has invarribly failed before,
of trying to find an anodyne for the
incurable.
"What do you fancy, my lady?" cries
the distracted medico, himself half nau-
seated by the ferocious motion, and l:y
constant observation of the symp-
toms of the universal malady.
"Something acid. Oh, my dear doc-
tor,
oo-tor, prescribe an acid drink—with
something in it to support mei"
" Lemonade and brandy?"
" Ugh! Don't mention it I" She
motions with her finger in a certain
direction.
" Champagne?"
" Oh I gone long since I" (Fingers
pointed again.
"Have you tried She effervescent
citrate of bismuth?"
"Maria! here, quick!
Doctor, you'll kill me. The mention
of, it is enough."
• • (To be Continued.) ( I
MAJOR: GENERAL. SIR FRANCIS
GR.ENFELL,
There is only one Sirdar in the pub-
lic mind now, and Sir Herbert Kit-
chener is his name. But Major-Gen-
eral Sir Francis Wallace Grenfell, G.C.
M. G., K. C. B., was Sirdar of the Egyp-
tian army from 1885 to 1892' and his
excellent service has all the more rea-
eon to be recalled now that the policy
he inaugurated has been carried to
culmination by his successor. Sir
Francis, indeed, as commanding in
Egypt, had bad the satisfaction of re-
oeiving the Sirdar's reports, and of
banding them on to the Home Govern-
ment. He was born fifty-seven years
ago, and he married, in 1887, Miss
Evelyn Wood, the daughter of General
Robert Wood, C.B. Hiumilitarycareer
began in the 00th Rifles, in 1869• and
he served in the Kaffir War of 1878, in
the Zulu War of 1879, in the Transvaal
in 1881, in the Egyptian Expedition of
1882, and the Nile Expedition of 1884.
He bad his knighthood in 1888, and as
Sirdar he commanded the forces at
••im in 1889, and was appointed In-
, „or-Genernl of Auxiliary Forces,
14`ar Office, in 1894.
there was a tear in the corner of his JEWELED BELTS.
clear blue eye as he tendered his Nig
fist to his quondam prisoner.! The "Dutch snake" may possibly be -
"Faith, oaptain," said the Master, come the fashion of the hour and sup -
"your metho3 of examination was ersede the golden hearts, enamel sham -
'cross' in more senses than one. If you rooks, luck beans and other devices
were to transport that huge corpus of y
yours into the Four Courts, and em-
phasise your questions with those big
fists as you did with me, there's never
a witness could stand before ye. They'd
swear anything you liked. However, young Queen of Holland is declared to
I'm obliged to you. It's ten thousand have worn a long golden chain of
pounds in my pocket. But now I'll medium thickness, which would per -
pay ye good for evil. You say the' haps have escaped attention but for
murderer is on board. I'll help you to
deteot him, and when he's found we'll •the exquisite ornament with which it
manage with him better than you did was adorned. This consisted of a
with me." glittering snake some eight inches in
CHAPTER VI. length, which was coiled round the
chain. The head was formed of one
Mr. Crog, the steerage steward, had
gone through a good deal of mental magnificent diamond of extraordinary
and physical exertion since the ves- brilliancy, while the flexible bods cen-
se' lend eloped from Greencastle Bay !slated of a mase of brilliants, rubies
in the manner he so graphically des-
cribed to his new friend, Mr. Still-
water. The four hundred people un -
which at present dangle from the
bangle, the neck and the watch chain.
During her recent stay in Paris the
and other precious atones so thickly
incrusted that not a trace of the gold
setting was visible, the various colors
"A most important man 1" cried the
knight with fervor, " But—I believe—
he had—a—a--"
"At for a divorce. Exaetly. And
won ' t is to say," said the young
lord.
,rtl ' in " the divorce was de -
Creed.
cl'eed. Ile was free from his wife,"
" And he is a friend of your," cried
Sir .Benjamin, with effusion, " I have,
!,q yon may he aware, a good deal of
infuenee with the owners of these
steamers. "Can I be of any service,
do you think?"
' Well,,said the peer, drily, " pos-
sibly, Sir Benjamin, you may to able
to persuade the captain that he has
done a very ridinulous thing, and that
lith owners will have to pay handsome-
ly for his blunder, unions ho can patch
it ftp with Coreornn."
y lord, I will sect Captnin Wind -
leads tit once. 1 shall mak" a point of
eorlinrx this matter right. fIe is, Ioan
asju:•n you, an estimable fellow, and
fine healthy rose -blush to n tint of
tawny orange. To meet the fickle
fancies of such a various charge, to IT'S VERY SUGGESTIVE, ANYHOW.
soothe, to threaten, to nurse, to cheer, you've heard of mon that talked
and to bully three hundred people who
are rolling about in helpless terror and so fast their words fairly tumbled over
misery, is not an occupation which one one another 1" said Mr, Hilltops, "Well
would suppose to hold out attractions where I live we've got a Block that
even to a performing dog, but there
are men found to take to it, and not strikes that way, Bang -bang -bang -
unkindly. Mr. Crog was ever vowing bang -bang -bang — taster'n you can
when at sen that he would leave it, count. It didn't used to be so, it's tak-
and ever when in port reversing his
decision. en on this habit In the last few months.
The storm which had been driving
in the teeth of the gallant Eamsehat-
kan for nearly three days began on the
evening of the fourth day to abate.
The wind shifted a point or two; the
barometer, like a ' repentant spirit,
took a turn upward. Hope spread
from eabin to cabin, where most of the
passengers hncl been the prey of ab-
ject terror and inteleeible discolmf"rt,
and now if I happen to hear it when
I wake aP In the night( it startles me,
always, I've never got used to it. I've
wanted to put a break col it ; but Mrs.
Hilltops says, 'Goodness, no 1 don't do
that. If there's anything in this house
that strikes quick, let it strike,"
" And now , I'm float Of wondering if
ihnl is any reflection oiq slow, oom-
forbible-striking me..
WON A BRIDE BY BRAVERY,
0
THE MAN WHO TRIED TO SAVE
BARNEY BARNATO'S LIFE.
Ile Jumped late the hew Brent a Fait atetng
8111p -For It Ile Cot au Amenity wad an
Neurosa.
The last act of Barney $arnato's
life was to make the fortune of a young
naval officer. The diamond king of
South Africa, who had been the ruin
and blessing of so many lives, prob-
ably did not contemplate this result of
his suicide when he leaped from the
saloon of the royal mail steamer Scot,
on the way from Cape Town to South-
ampton, for it was almost certain death
to battle with the high waves that
were surging at the time. And out
of the 1,500 persons on board the ship
but one was willing to court destruc-
tion for the off chance of saving Bar-
ney Barnato, whom he barely knew.
This was Mr. W. T. Clifford, fourth
officer of the Scot, one of the bravest
men and most powerful swimmers in
the British merchant marine. His he-
roin effort proved futile, but it pays
to be a hero for all that, since young
Clifford has just won for his bride a
beautiful young South African heir-
ess, who witnessed her lover's gallant
action, and used it to win over an
obstinate father. Mrs. Barnett), more-
over, has settled a handsome annuity
on Clifford, and his bank account is
swelled to good proportions by sever-
al testimonials of £500 each, the gifts
of Johannesburg citizens and two
steamship companies.
All South Africa has been greatly
interested in the outcome of Clifford's
courtship, and the happy oulmination
of it which is to take place in Port
Elizabeth, Cape Colony, in December,
will be the occasion for a town dem-
onstration, and general rejoicing am-
ong admirers of the brave young -Clif-
ford.
For some reason, the father of Miss
Gertrude Rodney, the naval officer's
pledged wife, had a dislike for Clif-
ford, and objected strongly to his at-
tentions which began on the voyage
to England, when Barney Barnato was
a fellow passenger, and several officers
of the Scot told the writer, who made
the trip out to Africa on that vessel
just after the diamond king's escapade,
that Clifford had performed his feat
as much for the effect on Miss Rod-
ney as to save Barnette. However, it
was bravery of the most admirable
kind, and the romance in it must be
considered only secondary.
CLIFFORD'S BRAVERY.
When Mr. Barnato went overboard
the Soot was steaming at the rate of
seventeen knots an hour. The weath-
er virus thick, and the summit of the
peak' of Teneriffe on the Grand Can-
aries could just be descried through
the heavy at nosphere. It was imme-
diately after lunch on a Monday and
the captain had ordered full steam
ahead in order to make the port of Fun-
chal, Madeira, in twelve hours. Barnato,
of course, was the cynosure of the
ship, except for the fourth officer, who
was so intent on making love to Miss
Rodney that the eccentric diamond
magnate gave him little concern. Ru-
mors that Barnato -had been attacked
wi(h delirium before boarding the ship
and had tried to take his life three
times, ware in circulation, but his
health seemed so much improved that
no one looked for whet was to happen.
While warring on the saloon deok
amidships, smoking a cigar with his
companion, Mr, Solly Joel, Barnato,
who seemed in high spirits, suddenly
asked the time of day, wrenched him-
self from Joel's arm and jumped over
the rail.
At this moment Clifford was bend-
ing over Miss Rodney, who sat on a
deck chair aft. At the ory of " man
overboard" he ran up the steps lead-
ing to the hurricane deck, shouted the
alarm and tore off his coat.
"0, Mr. Clifford," begged the young
woman, " you're not going to jump
overboard ?" But turning only to look
at her for a second, the fdurth offi-
cer, clad in negligee ehirt and duck
trousers, made no reply, but took a
long dive, while the Scot was rolling
to starboard, and disappeared in the
white caps. For some time he could
be seen when plunging on the crest
of wave, striking out in the wake of
the ship, and then the hundreds of pas-
sengers_who had crowded aft in such
numbers as to almost endanger the
vessel, lost sight of him.
The rather cold and reserved Miss
Rodney, in the meantime, had suddenly
developed into a very fervid, though
practical sweetheart, for after dash-
ing about from one deck to another
in a state of frenzy, she ran to ache
davits where the sailors were hastily
lowering a row boat and did what
she could to aid them, as she thought.
Before the ship could be stopped Dar -
nate hid been left two miles astern and
Clifford had swam nearly to him. The
latter was pinked up firs(:, all but worn
out. He bed been entirely submerged
half of the time.
CHIS ATHLETIC PROWESS.
In spite of this tremendous exertion,
Clifford on the return voyage, when
the writer was n passenger, carried off
I he honor at athletic games which are
always the feature of a voyage on
these steamers. The games last three
days, and the prizes in money are suf-
ficient to incite sarong competition.
After winning the 200 -yard dash
against very fast cornpony, and it is
notan easy job to keep one's feet on
a rolling deck, Clifford took part in
the ob taele race, winning it by a small
lead from the captain's steward.
These two weee the only ones nble
to finish, tbd other eight men becom-
ing exhausted, for this mice is a sev-
ere test of endurance, and only a per-
son with it perfect physique enn coin-
pete in it. The contestants were
started off with' a pistol shot end giv-
en first a 100 -yard dash, Then follow-
ed sits hurdles, climbing the rigging,
long jumps, hand over hand up ropes,
a gauntlet through a file of sailors,
each of whom held a three-inoh hose
end half a dozen other unique obsta-
cles. The rave wound up with a scram-
ble through a canvas sack thirty feet
long and four feet in diameter. There
was a foot of water in the sack and
outlets at either end. When a man gets
through this he is generally about
don for, But Clifford was barely
winded, and emerged smiling.
THI; ZULU SIDE STROKE,
Ile ascribaa, his physical prowess to
continual swimming when a boy along
the African ooaat. Capt. Clifford, his
father, was for et long time port cap-
tain of bast London, end young Clif-
ford was knneking about ships most
of the time and learning trieka from
the nmphibione nnt'iveR.' From the
Zulu boys he learned a powerful side
stroke which ho combines with the
English broad stroke in fast swim-
ming.
When his father became a captain
in the castle line steamers the boy
was taken on as an apprentice and soon
became a smart sailor. He joined the
Uniolt Steamship Co.'s service as fourth
officer the same month, and atter mak-
ing four voyages in the Spartan was
transferred to the Soot. It was on his
third voyage in that vowel, when •on
June, 1897, Barney Minato did the
young officer such a good turn.
Clifford is now 28 years old, but is
looked upon as one of the most effi-
,oient officers in the royal naval re-
serve. He is 5 feet 8 inches in height,
and has shoulders so broad that they
seem entirely out of proportion to the
rest of his body. Sunburned to n vene-
tian red, and hardened by the wind
and the waves, be locks it typical sea
dog, and when togged out in the nat-
ty uniform of a naval officer is a'hand-
some and striking figure. With the for-
tune that will soon be in his oontrol
he could abandon the sea and become
a gentleman of leisure, as his fiancee
insists he shall, but England is not
likely to allow a naval officer of suck
intrepid courage to become buried in
private life.
Modern Marriage Market.
A book written by a quartet of well
known English women on the ever -in-
teresting subject - Of marriage has cre-
ated a sensation in London. The title
has been changed from the antique
one of "Advice to Those About to
Marry" that has done duty for so long
The new book comes into the literary
field under the name of "The Modern
jMarriage Market," and it certainly is
causing a greater amount of talk and
encountering a fiercer amount of cri-
ticism than hny market volume ever
printed,
The writers are women prominent in
England, and their names are suffi-
cient guarantee that the! book Le by no
means an ordinary volume. The
quartet e.1 writers are Lady Jeune,
Mrs. Flora Annie Steel, Miss Marie
oreili, and Susan, Countess of Mal-
nesirury. There bas evidently been no
"getting together" of the distinguish-
ed authors for the purpose of compar-
ing notes before writing the book, for
the opinioua differ widely, and the
writers do not hesitate to speak their
minds freely regarding the writing of
the rest of the fouu•.
One fact concerning the book that
has been seized upon with avidity by
its critios is that the only one of the
writers to take Cupid in her arms and
pet the little god, is Miss Marie Cor-
' elli, who is also the only unmarried
one of the four. This strikes the Lon -
1 don critics as being a peculiarly rich
bit of irony, and they are making the
most of it. Miss Corelli refers with
lofty scorn to the ideals of some of her
unmarried friends, and has such' ad-
, vanced ideas on the subject herself
that it seems a pity that she should
ever spoil these by a practical exper-
ience of .married life. Miss Corelli's
view is expressed in this statement:
"I want you to refuse to make your
bodies and souls the traffickable ma-
terial of vulgar huckstering. I want
you to give yourselves ungrudgin]y,
fearlessly, without a price, or any
condition whatsoever, to the man you
truly love, and abide ty the results.
If love is love Indeed, no regret 'can
be possible,"
The other .three, Lady Jeune, Mrs.
Steel and the Countess of Malmesbury,
undertake to set each other right in
the condescending way peculiar to the
high-born British dame, who patroni-
• zes the world with unruffled good
nature and is seldom disturbed in her
self-oonceit. "Lady ' Jeune," says
;Susan, Countess of Malmesbury,
"writes from the practical standpoint
' of a womp.n who has a wide and inti-
mate knowledge of the special class
which she describes, but she confines
herself to do' that alone." Mrs. Steel,
again, is snubbed by the same con-
' tioversialist who told that she is "more
conversant. with the matrimonial al-
' fairs of our eastern than of our west-
ern sisters."
The antagonist that Miss Corelli
finds most worthy of her steel 'is the
lady of that name, Mrs. Steel takes
1 the stand that marriage as the most
ordinary busincsa of life. Mrs. Steel
looks at the world of etoinen through
'lorgnettes that have been turned on
much misery, matrimonial and other-
wise, in their time, and the conclu-
sion she arrives at is this "Compare
it the love match with the position
which our present system condemns,
which nine. out of Len women would
be ashamed to confess. I do not ex-
pect intense personal gratification but
I wish to marry, to have a home and
children to take my share in. the
glory and toil, and here is my ,chance.
If you come to analyze this, you will
find not only that it brings with it a
far higher ideal Of life; but that it -
leaves us with something more of a
foundation for marriage than a mu-
tual physical and mental attraction; an
attraction which the individual exper-
ience of nearly every man and wo-
man in the world teaches thein is
evanescent,"
It is only right to say that the com-
monsense critios side with Mrs, Steel.
However much it may grate on the
sensitive nerves of theromance-hunter,
it is felt by the majority of people in
England that where the cboosing
is left to the man, and the girl has no
voice in the mal ter until she is asked
to use her voice —in saying "yes," or
"no"—that the girl is apt after wait-
ing a reasonable time, to any to her-
self: "Here, if I don't accept the first
offer that comps along I shall be left
in the race altogether." So ,she goes
to the altar with) a man for whom she
hns little regard, and, the novelty of
marriage gone, she is left with noth-
ing but the !nveless life. As to the
poor man who is carried off in this
unprincipled manner, the four Indies
who write "The Modern Marriage
' Market" are silent. no seem; to have
I been left out of their calculations al-
together. The man's side of the ques-
tion Is now awaited with interest by
those who have read the woman's ad-
vice to women.
REVERES HIS MEMORY+°
Inside Queen Victoria's boudoir at
Windsor Castle, inscribed in gold let-
ters over the doorway, are the words:
"Every article in this room my deep-
ly lamented husband seleoted for me
in the twenty-fourth year of my )reign,"
And carefully preserved under a
gloss shade lies the Queen's bridal
wreath, by the side of the withered re-
maina of the first bouquet presented
to Her Majesty by the Prince Consort,
COLD DESSERTS.
A Dish of Snow. — Heap a grated
cocoanut up in the center of a, hand-
some dish and ornament with pretty
green leaves or ferns. Serve it up
with snow cream, made as follows:
Beat the whites of five eggs to a stiff
froth, add two large spoonfuls of fine
white sugar, a large spoonful of rose-
water, peach of pineapple flavor. Beat
the whole together, add a pint of thick
cream. Put several spoonfuls over
each dish of cocoanut -
Orange Souffle.—Peel and slice six
oranges; put in a glass dish a layer of
the orange, then one of sugar, having
two or three layers of each. Pour
over this a cold custard made of Ione
pint of milk, yolks of two eggs land
�
one-half cup sugar. Beat three whites
lo a stiff froth, stir into them three
tablespoons of sugar and pour it over
the custard.
Orange Water Ice. — One quart
water, one pound sugar, the outer
rind of one and the juice of three pr
four oranges. Strain into can and
pack ice and salt around it, and freeze
and scrape it down until it is suffi-
ciently frozen.
Cream and Orange Pudding. — Stir
one pint of thick sweet cream with
three yolks of eggs and three table-
spoonfuls of sugar. Put ft layer of
bread crumbs in the bottom of a pud-
ding dish, fill with the cream, then
cover with more bread crumbs. (Bake
half an hour; when done, spread the
top with thinly sliced oranges, and
over these a meringue made from the
whites of eggs, brown lightly.
Surprise Lemons.—Surprise Lemons
are an attractive novelty for dessert
or a luncheon. Pour a quart of fresh
cream into a vessel; pound 2 ounces
of sweet almonds and a few bitter
ones with 12 ounces of sugar; sift
through a sieve .and put it into the
cream, adding 2 gills of maraschina
and 4 ounces of candied fruits, cut in
quarter-inoh squares. Tint it to a
soft pink, then freeze. With this
frozen Dream fill some large lemons
that have been emptied. Tie with
delicately colored ribbon, lay on fern
leaves and serve.
Tea cream.—Put one ounce of , the
beat tea in a pitcher, pour on it a
tablespoonful of water and let it stand
an hour to soften the leaves; then aunt
to it a quart of boiling cream, cover it
closely, and in half an hour strain it;
add four teaspoonfuls of strong infus-
ion of rennet in water, stir it, and set
it over some bot ashes and cover.
When you find by cooking a little of
it, that it jellies, then pour it into
glasses, and garnish with thin bits of
preserved fruit.
USES FOR KEROSENE OIL.
Kerosene oil is ,good for many
things besides fuel and lamp oil. It
should always be substituted for soap
in cleaning sbellaoked floors. Use a
cupful to a pailful of lukewarm water
—hot water spoils the varnish — and
wipe with a floor mop or a soft cloth.
After scrubbing oilcloth, if a little
kerosene is rubbed on it and rubbed
dry,' the colors of the oilcloth will be
wonderfully freshened and improved
by the process.
For removing rust nothing is equal
to kerosene. If the article is badly
rusted pour the oil into a pan and lay
with the rusted surface in the oil so as
to cover it. Leave for as long as may
bet necessary for the oil to penetrate
the rust; then wipe off, and polish with
sand soa,p, or rub with bath brick, ac-
cording to the article to be cleaned.
When your lamp chimneyii are"'smok-
ed newspaper, wet with kerosene, 1s
much better than water for cleaning
them; and after they are washed the
same medium polishes them beautiful-
ly. Only be very careful to rub all
the oil off before using the lamp or
it will have a bad odor. The objec-
tionable odor so often noticed with
lamps and oil stoves Domes from oil,
which is spilled in filling and left to
dry, instead of being wiped off.
On washday, cutup a quarter of a
cake of soap into the wash boiler, and
allow It to dissolve., which it will do
by the time the water comes to a boil.
Then stir in a teacupful of kerosene
and put in the sheets, towels, pillow-
cases, etc.—that is, the clothes which
are not badly, soiled. Boil for fifteen
or twenty minutes, stirring frequent-
ly. Then rinse, rubbing them out In
the rinsing water -to wash out the
soap. This is 1 the washing they
need, and you w Il find them all clean
and ready for the blueing. The kero-
sene dissolves the dirt and whitens the
clothes without injury to the fabric.
Kerosene oil is also an effective re-
medy for burns—fully equal to linseed
oil. It contains the remedial qualities
of vaseline, but is a much less sooth-
ing application and the odor is, of
course, objectionable
HOW MUCH SHALL BE IRONED.
Ironing is a duly that vexes the soul
of many housekeepers, more especially
in the warm season of the year.
It is hard for the careful housewife,
brought up in the old fashioned way,
to adopt, new and easier ways, but
times and customs change, and we have
to consider that in the rush and bother
of this high-pressure age some cus-
toms must be set aside and many
things left undone, if we would have
lime left for culture, recreation and
social duties. The careful and con-
scientious housewife needs to discrim-
inate closely between the essentials
and non -essentials of housekeeping and
homfemaking.
When we first became a partial
convert, to the non -ironing system, it
provers a wonderful salve to an accus-
ing conscience, when a friend told the
of a noted physician, who had given
express orders that the sheets, pillow
Blips, and undergarments of n patient,
under his care, should never be iron-
ed. He stated that the atrengthen-
ing healthgiving properties of sun-
shine and fresh air were destroyed by
the 'use of the hot iron,
A careful oversight of laundry work
will soon oonvinee the moat painstak-
ing housekeeper that very much of
the family washing may be made
smooth, sweet and clean without the
wearisome labor of ironing, In the
first plane, alt clothes should be hung
evenly upon the Line, and then pulled
straight , acid smooth; t hots that are
to be ironed, as ,well all tiro* that alto
not, and it is better if they can be
eft out over night, that they may get
the benefit of the dew as well as the
sun and air.
Those that must be Ironed may be
taken down while 'they are still damp,
folded smoothly, and laid in the baaket
ready for the iron,whils the others may
be left on the line till midday, when
they will be thoroughly dry and ready
to be put away. Sheets may be tak-
en from the line, folded evenly and
piled on a table, a board and weight
placed upon them, and they will look
quite as well and be far sweeter and
healthier than if ironed. Kitchen tow-
els, dish towels, and many other small
pieces, as well as all knit underwear
and stockings, may be treated in the
same manner. This will greatly ligh-
ten the labor of ironing day.
Table lines, napkins, and teey-clothe
need to be well ironed, also pillow slips,
drletssee, aprons, and all searched
things, The busy housewife may be
thankful that much starching is a
thing of the past, as prints, ginghamo,
and other cotton goods should only be
slightly stiffened, but if one must
wear white skirts one may starch them
to her heart's content.
Many women launder men's shirts
nicely at home, but it is generally
Netter, in the long run, to send th1em
to the laundry, as no one but a pro-
fessional can attain the desired stiff-
ness and polish; the cost is compara-
tively small and the work hard at the
best. An ironing -board, a lump of
beeswax, and a duet of borax in the
starch, make ironing comparatively
Deasy.
TO CARD, FOR LFNEN.
Linen must be washed with care to
properly preserve it; the best soap
must be used. It must be rinsed free
from this in hot and then cold water
in great plenty.
After it is dry and ironed It must
be aired for a whole day, preferably in
the sunlight, and then put away in
chest or closet perfectly protected flora
damp. Dampness and soil are its only
enemies.
The English make a soaking water of
one tablespoonful of soda to four gal.
Ions of water and put the linen in the
necessary quantity over night.
FLASHES OF FUN.
The evil that men do lives after them.
the good they publish while they live,
If you pass your college examina-
tions. I'll pay all your debts. Why,
uncle, do you want me to work for the
benefit of my creditors?
Your replies are very tart, said th0
young husband. Then he hastily add.
ed: But they are not as tart as those
mother made.
Mr's. Good—My poor man, are you
married ? Soiled Spooner—No'm ; I got
dis hunted look from always bein' chas-
ed from plane to place by de police.
Folks dat insists on habbin' dar own
way, said Uncle Eisen, runs a good deal
o' risk in not habbin' no one ter blames
when fings goes wrong.
Wife—What would you do if you
had no wife to look after your mend-
ing, I'd like to know ? Husband—Do?
Why, in that case I could afford to
buy new clothes. •
Do you approve of compulsory edu-
cation? Well, said Lite man who had
settled down late in life, it is about
the only way to learn the value of a
dollar.
Five-year-old—Pretty iselul, ain't I,
mamma ? Yes, dear. Almost as useful
.as a man? Em, ye -es. I don't mean
Santa Claus, or God, but any ordinary
man.
How about the children? asked the
inquisitive neighbour. Oh, said the man
who had married again to get a moth-
er for his little ones, she doesn't mind
them at all.
One Objection.. McLuhberty — Oi'd
loike to take a trip around the wor-
ruld. Mrs. McLubberty—Sure ; thot
wud' be foine ! McLubberty—Yls ; but
t'ink av dthe cost av gitlin' home ag'in I
She—But how can you think I'm
pretty, when my nose turns up so
dreadfully'? He—Well, all 1 have tory
is, that it shows mighty poor taste in
backing away from such a lovely
mouth.
In Confidence —Friend—Some men
are remarkably ungrateful after you
have had them elected. The Boss—Yes;
the moment some men are elected
they begin to think they did it them-
selves.
Dramatio Note—Wright—I believe a
good deal of human interest could be
put into r play with the scenes laid
in a pawnshop. Reed—My dear boy, the
interest in a pawnshop is something
absolutely inhuman.
Sunday School Teacher—Why, Willie
Wilson, fighting again? Didn't last
Sunday's lesson teach that when you
are struck on one cheek you ought
to turn the other to the striker? \Vil-
lie—Ycs'm ; but be hit me on the nese,
an' I've only got one.
Placed No Great V.rlut, on the Vic-
tims.—Philanthropist—Do you believe
in capital punisament, may I ask? Cy-
nic—I certainly don't. Why, how's that/
Because i never yet met a man that
I thought it worth while hanging an-
other for.
Moike, phot do yez I'ink nv 1!t ; se-
am of gawrf the duides do be play:n'?
Oh, of suppose iL is all roighlfor thim
dudes, nn' it gives the caddie -boys a
chance In corn a bivin', but whin it
comes to the shpor( av it, it's too loike
hnndlin' a pick for me.
Not Like Other 1'niks.—Mrs.Gnswell
—The Emperor of Germany is taking
102 trunks with him on his pilgrim-
age to Jerusalem. Mr. (lnswell—I sup-
pose his wife is with him. '.firs. Gnswell
Yes; the empress' elet hes are in the
two odd trunks.
A \fuse Doctor.-1"uller--fir•. Nomad
told Tibbs that. drugs would net help
his complaint, and recommended nut -
door exercise on a wheel as being I he
hest thing for him. Butler—The line,
is simple to throw business away like
that. Fuller—Oh, T don'( know : he
charges double rates for surgical vis-
its.
He had been Thinking deeply for sev=
oral Minutes. 1 cannot ngree with the
poet, he said finally, when he bewails
the fact that we otnnol see ourselves
as othere set us. I think he has it
all wrong, How would you ehange it?
she asked. Why, T think we should
rather ask for the power to make oth-
er's see un as we Eire ourselves.
I've dont, my best, said, the Indian,
to adapt myself to the modern civil-
ization. But 1 enn't manage it.. You
go about it the wrong way, nnswered
the sympathetic white man When
you feel that old impulse for a wild
collision with somebody what you want
to do is to come off tho war pat h n url
get nn the bieyelo path.