The Advocate, 1887-07-07, Page 2.470,1
,
We Sting Of the Mosquito -
Rum; hum ; I'm coming, coming, ,
Don't you hear me, btu:Inning, humming
Like some distant drummer drumming
His tired troops to sleep?
Rat -at -tet, and hum -hum -hum,
Rear, more near, I come, I come,
With Some to dine, to sup with some,
With all a feast to keep,
Rum! hum ! How neat you aro!
Hum! hum! How sweet you are I
Rilmin bumm I Too sweet by far
daily for a bit.
Try you there, and try Yon here;
Taste your chin, your cheek, your ear
And that line of forehead near,
Ere settliugdown to it.
Ruin hum! )op cannot say
S11) and dine, and do not pay.
Xelund me, WOOR 1 go away,
just here, and here and here,
111 leave a tiny, round:bright spot—
A brand-new Coiu, laid down red-hot
In full return for all I got.
I Pay most dear, mot dear,
Hum! bum I I've supped, and rarely;
And you still are sleeping fairly.
,Hum -hum -hum; We twain part squarely,
All my dues I pay for,
One more taste, and one more sip,
From your eyelid, from your lip
Then away I'll skip-skip-kip—
There's nothing more to stay for.
—Grace Deltic) Iracktield in St.111010ifis.
iEs 13,43Y,
(B. J. Burdotta In Brooklyn Cagle.)
'The little tottering baby feet,
With faltering steps and slow,
With pattering echoes soft and sweet
Into my heart they go:
'They also go, in grimy plays,
In muddy pools itnd dusty ways,
Men through the house in trackful mazo
They wander to and fro.
The baby hands that clasp my neck
With touches dear to mb
Axe the same hands that smaslarind wreck
The inkstand foul to see;
They pound the mirror with a cane'
They rend the manuscript in twain,
Widespread destrdetioa they ordain,
In wasteful jubilee.
, ,
The dreamy, nuirm`ring paby voice •
That coos its little tune,
That makes my listening heart rejdiee L
Like birds in leafy June,
Can wake at midnight dark and still,
..And all the air with bowling fill
That splits the ear with 'echoes shrill,
Like cornets out of tune.
"SIR HUGH'S LOVES.
--ss
is horses
He sent for presently, and
h—
drove Miss Morclaunt and her niece to all
the beautiful spots in the neighborhood;
and he joined Fay in her canters through
the lanes, and found fault with Fairy,
anuch to her little mistress' dismay; but
Fay blushed very prettily when one day a
beautiful little chestnut mare, with a lady's
side-saddle, was brought to the cottage
edoor, where Fay was waiting in her
habit.
"1 want you to try Bonnie Bell," he
said, carelessly, as he put her on her
saddle. " You ride perfectly, and Fairy is
not half good enough for you ;" and Fay
was obliged to own that she had never had
such a ride before ; and Hugh had noticed
that people had turned round to look at
the beautiful little figure on the chestnut
enare.
I shall bring her every day for you to
ride—she is your own property, you know,"
Hugh said, as he lifted Fay to •the ground;
but Fey had only tried to hide her blushing
f ace from his meaning look, and had run
into the house.
Hugh was beginning to make his
intentions very clear. When he walked
with Fay in the little lane behind the
cottage he did not say much, but he looked
very kindly at her. The girl's innocent
beauty—her sweet face and fresh ripple of
talk—came soothingly to the jaded man.
He began to feel an interest in the gentle
-unsophisticated little creature. She was
very young, very ignorant, and childish—
she had absolutely no knowledge of the
world or of men—but somehow her very
innoosnoe attracted him.
His heart was bitter against his old love
•—should he take this child to himself and
make her his wife? He was very lonely—
reetless, and dissatisfied, and miserable;
;perhaps, after all, she might rest ana
comfort him. He was already very fond
oiler ; by and by, when he had learnt
to forget Margaret, when he ceased
to remember her with these sickening
throbs of pain, he might even grow to love
her.
" She is so young—so little will satisfy
her," he said to himself, when a chill doubt
once crossed his mind whether he could
ever give her the love that a woman has a
zight to demand from the man who offers
himself as her husband; but he put away
the thought from him. He was a Redmond,
and it was his duty to marry ;he had grown
very fond of the shy gentle little creature
he could make her happy, for the child
liked him he thought; and it would be
pleasant to have her bright face to welcome
him when he went home.
So one evening, as they walked up and
,down the shrubbery, while Aunt Griselda
knitted in the porch, Hugh took Fay's
hand, and asked her gently if she thought
she could love him well enough to be his
vife. Poor simple little child ! she hardly
knew how to answer him ; but Hugh, who
had caught a glimpse of the happy blushing
face, was very gentle and patient with her
sahynese, mid presently won from her the
answer he wanted. She did like him—so
much he understood her to say—he was so
kind, and had given her so much pleasure.
Yes—tater much pressing on Hugh's part
—she was sure that she liked him well
•enough, but he could not he inflamed to
Say more.
But Hugh was quite cOntent with his
viotory; he wanted no words to tell him
thatFay adored him from the depths of her
innocent heart; ha could read the truth in
those wonderful eyes—Fay had no idea,
'how eloquent they Were.
" How mild she help laving him ?" she
said tie herself that night, as, she knelt
down in the moonlight ; had she over seen
Any one like him ? No little imprisoned
prineess ever watched her knight more
proudly than Fay did when Hugh rode
away on Ms big black unite', Ho was like a
king she thought, ao wad, and handsome, "
and gracious; find Fey prayed With tears
thfit she Might be worthy of the preeioua
gift that had come to her.
And so one lovely August day, when Aunt I
Oriselda's sunby little garden wee sweet
with the Meath of roses end camelias, if
Hugh find Fay were married in the little
chiireh at Daintree, and as Hugh leaked
down en his child -wife, seinething like
cotiiptinotion edited hire, end from the
vele/Abe of hift sOre hart he solemnly prom
-
head that he would keep his yow,, and Wetild
cherish and love her, God ItelPtteg, to, his
life's end.
OT -147, gR VI.
1441I14.11. RTAPF,
upon her face there Was the tint of griefVi.m
Vie settled shadow of an inwerd strife-
* 4 s * A. sorrow not, It 5011.
4lflern0,4 q. ,Steineerne,
In one of the dingiest ,seburbs of London
there is a small plot of ground known by
the name of the Elysian Fields ; but how
it had ever acquired tine singular appellation
is likely to remain aa nnsolved problem to
the end of time.
Moet probably those great satirists, street
denominators, had branded it with this
title in ridicule, for anything farther
removed from the mythological meadows
could not possibly be conceived, even by
the most Bengaline temperament. Tree,
there was a market garden or two, and
odors redolent of decaying vegetables ; but
on the whole, it was rather an unsavory
region, and much frequented by the
costermonger and fishwoman.
The Elysian Fields were divided and
sub -divided into streets, rows and alleys ;
Some respectable, others eeiagenteel, but
in most cases to be defined by the three
degrees of comparison—dingy, clingier, most
dingy ; and it was under the comparative
degree that a certain street, known by the
name Of Beulah Place, greet be classed.
It was a long narrow street. not differing
much from the others that ran parallel
with it, except in a general air of retirement
and obscurity, owing to a " No Thorough-
fare" placarded up on the blank wall of a
brewery, which had rather a depressing
effect on the encl houses that looked full
on it.
There was little that was noticeable
about the street except its name—for here
again the satirists had sharpened their wits,
and Beulah Place looked down in conscious
Euperiority on Paradise Row.
In conscious superiority indeed—for had
not Beulah Place this distinction, that its
houses were garnished with imposing flights
of steps and a railed -in area, while Paradise
Row opened its doors directly on the
pavement?
Therefore Beulah Place noted itself
eminently respectable, and put on airs ; let
its front and back parlors to single gentle-
men or widows ; and looked over its wire
blinds in superb disdain at the umbrella.
mender, or genteel dressmaker who lived
opposite.
At the extreme corner of Beulah Place,
with its own glass eye peering down High
street, was Mrs. Watkins, tea merchant
and Italian warehouseman—at least, so
ran the giltdettered inscription, which had
been put over the door in the days of her
predecessor, and had remained there ever
since. But it was in reality an all -sorts
shop, where nearly everythingedible could
be procured, and. to betray ignorance of
Mrs. Watkins was to betray ignorance not
only of Beulah Place, but of the whole of
the Elysian Fields.
To be sure the long window aided the
deception, 1 and, was fitted up solely with
goods in the grocery line; but enter the
dark low doorway, and getan odorous whiff
from within, and one's olfactory nerves
would soon convince one of the contrary.
There was a flavor of everything there;
a blended fragrance compounded of strong
cheese, herrings, and candles, with a
suspicion of matches and tarred wood,
whieh to the uninitiated was singularly
unpalatable, and suggested to them to
shake off the dust of Mrs. Watkins as soon
as possible.
To be sure this was only a trifle. To do
her justice, Mrs. Watkins drove a very
thriving trade the very carters had a
partiality fer this shop, and would lurch in
about twelve o'clock, with their pipes and
hob -nailed boots, for a twist of tobacco or
a slice of cheese, and crack clumsy jokes
across the counter.
But, besides this, Mrs. Watkins had
another source of prat that was at once
lucrative and respectable. She let
lodgings.
And very genteel lodgings they were, i
with a private entrance n Beulah Place,
and a double door that excluded draughts
and the heterogeneous odors from the
shop.
The lodgers of Mrs. Watkins were the
talk of the neighborhood, and many a
passer.by looked curiously up at the bright
windows and clean white curtains; between
which in the summer time bloomed the
loveliest flowers, and the earliest snowdrops
and crocuses in spring, in thehope of seeing
Iwo fair faces which had rather haunted
their memory ever since they had first seen
them.
It was six o'clock on the evening of a
dreary November day. Watkins' shop
was empty, for the fog and therawness and
the cold had driven folks early to their
homes; and Mrs. Watkins herself, fortified
with strong tea and much buttered 'toast,
was entering her profits on a small greasy
slate, and casting furtive glances every now
and then into the warm, snug parlor, where
her nephew and factotum Tony Was
refreshing himself in his turn from the
Small black teapot on the hob.
A fresh, wholesome -looking woman was
Mre, Watkins, With an honest, reliable face
and a two -fold chin; but she had two
peculiarities—she always wore the stiffest
and the cleanest find Most orticking of print
dresses, and her lair was neatly always
pinned up in curl -papers intder her black
octp. Mrs. Watkins Was engaged isi otting
down small dabs of Agiiree on the slate and
rubbing them Out again, when the green -
beim swing doer leading to the passage Was
pushed back, and h tall, grave -looking
weentin in black entered the Shop end
quietly approached the Conntet.
She was certainly e etriking-looking
person ; itt Spited the gray hairand aw�rn,
sad expression, the face bore the trace of
uncoinniciri beauty, though all youth and
freshness,
aiiimatiOn and coloring had
faded outof it.
The /wale was almost perfect, and the
triceith would have been lovely too but forit
certain proud dreep of the lips which get&
an impression of leetclness and inflexibility;
but the dark eyes were very eoft and
melancholy, and, seemed to hold a world of
sadness in their depths.
" Mre. Watkins," she began hurriedly,
in a sweet, cultivated "voice, and than
stepped and drOW back as another person
came into the shop " no, do not let me
interrupt you, I Was only ping to Say
that one of the young ladies ea Miss
Martingale's seethe very poorly, and Miss
Theresa is a little tretibled about hero, so
bave promised to go back for an hour pr
twe ; but I have my key with me if I shoald
he '
" Dear bless ray heart, Mrs. 'Ilrafford,"
eXeleimed Mrs, Watkins fassily, as she
looked at her lodger'epale, tired, face, " you
are never going out 90 Bath, an evening,
and all the streets swept as Plean as if with
a new broom; and you with your cough,
and the fog, and nett° mentiOntherawness
whioh sucks into your chest like a lozenge ;1'
and here 1YIrs. Watkins shook her head, and
weighed out a quarter of a pound of mixed
tea, in a disapproving manner.
Mrs. Trafford smiled. 24good friend,"
she said, in rather an amused yoioe, " you
ought to know mebetter by this time ; have
you ever remembered that either frost, or
rain, or fog have kept inc indoors a single
day when duty called nie out ;" and here
she folded her cloak around her, and
prepared to leave the shop.
" It's ill tempting Providence, neighbor,"
remarked the other woman, who had been
standing silently by and now put in her
word, for she was an innocent country body
with a garrulous tongue; " it's ill tempting
Providence, for the wind and the sea obey
Him.I had a son myself some fourteen
ye.ars next Michaelmas," continued the
simple creature, " as brave and bonnie a
lad as ever blessed a mother's eyes, and
that feared nought ; but the snowdrift that
swept over the Cumberland Fells found
him stumbling and wandering, poor Willie,
from the right way, and froze his dear heart
dead."
The lady advanced a few steps, and then
stopped as though seized by a sudden
impulse, and looked wistfully in the other
woina,n'S face.
" God help you," she said, very softly ;
"and was this boy of yours a good son ?"
Perhaps in the whole of her simple,
sorrowful life Elsie Deans had never seen
anything more pathetic than tick white
face from which the gray hair was .so tightly
strained, and those anxious questionings.
" And was this boy of yours," she said,
"a good son ?"
" A. better never breathed," faltered poor
Elsie, as she drew her hand across her
eyes; " he was my only bairn, was
Willie."
"Why do you weep then?" returned
Mrs. Trafford in her sad voice; "do you
not know that there are mothers in the
heart of this great city who would that
their sons had never been born, or that they
had seen them die in their infancy. 'He
was the only son of his mother, and she
was a widow,' she continued to herself;
then aloud, and with a strange flickering
smile that scarcely lighted up the pale face,
"Good -night to you—happy mother whose
son perished on the Cumberland Fells, for
you will soon meet him again. Good -night,
Mrs. Watkins ;" and with this abrupt adieu
she went quickly out of the shop and was
lost in the surrounding fog.
"A. fine figure of a woman," ejeoulated
Elsie, shaking her old head with a puzzled
lookon her wrinkled face; " a fine, grand
figure of a woman, but surely an innocent,'
neighbor?"
" An innocent 1" repeated Mrs. Watkins
with an indignant snort; " an innocent 1
Mrs. Deans; why should suck an idea enter
your head? a shrewder and a brighter
woman than my lodger, Mrs. Trafford,
never breathed, though folks do say shehas
had a deal of trouble in her life—but there,
it is none of my business; I never meddleiu
the affairs Of my neighbors I am not of
the sort who let their tonguerun away with
them," finished Mrs. Watkins with a
virtuous toss of her head.
CHAPTER VIL
She was gray, tender, petulant and susceptible.
All her feelings were quick and ardent ; and hav-
ing never experienced contradiction or restraint,
she was little practised in self-control ; nothing
but the nati ve goodness of herheart kept her from
running continually into error.— IVaskington
11 Mrs. Trafford had been questioned
about her past life, she would have replied
in patriarchal language that few and evil
had been her days, and yet no life had ever
opened with more promise than hers.
Many years, nearly a quarter of a century,
before the gray-haired weary woman had
stood in Mrs. Watkins' shop, a young girl
in a white dress, with a face as radiant
as the spring morning itself, lent over the
balcony of Belgrave House to wave good -by
to her father as he rode away eastward.
Those who knew Nea Huntingdon in
those early days say that she was wonder-
fully beautiful.
Ihere was a picture of her in the Royal
Academy, a dark-haired girl in a velvet
dress, sitting under a marble column with
O blaze of oriental scarves at her feet, and
O Scotch deer -hound beside her, and both
fade and figure were well-nigh faultless,
Nee had lost her mother in her childhood,
and she lived alone with her father in the
great house that stood at the corner of the
square, with its flower -laden balconies and
many windows facing the setting sun.
Nes, WEIS her father's only child, and all
his hopes were centered upon her.
Mr. Huntingdon was an ambitious man;
he was more, he wee a profound egotist. In
his character, pride, the love of power, the
desire for wealth, were evenly balanced and
made subservient to a most indomitable
will. Those who knew him well said he was
a hard, self-sufficient man, one who never
forgot an injury or forgeVe it,
He had been the creator of his own
fortunes'as a lad he had come to Londen
with the traditional shilling in his pocket,
and had worked his way to wealth, and was
now one of the richest merchant princes in
the metropolis.
He had mattied a young heiress and by
het help had gained entrance into society;
but she had died a dissatieted, unhappy
Woma n, who bed never geined her husband'il
heart or wen Ms confidence. In Mr.
IItintingdon'S Self -engrossed ilittUre there
was no room for tenderness ; hhad loved
hie handsomeyoung Wife in a cool tempeeate
fashion, butm she had rieVer infltioneed
never really comprehended him ;his ikon
Will, hidden wider e ehow 01 'oceittesy, had
repressed het from the beg,ifinhig pf their
inartied life. Petheps her chief sin hi his
eyes had been that she had pt. given him
a son ; he had edeepted his little detighter
engradionsly; 'and for the fleet ;face years
Of heeyOueg life he hita grievotigy liegleeted
her. '
Mother ; left by herself itt that great
hoes°, with Mirada to Spoil herancl servante
to wait on her, the little oreateris grew up
wayward and ; her capricee
hadulgedsliet fault e and follies laughed at
glossed over deroletel goVernesees,
14eit.Vety sSld�saw her father ia those
daYS ; PoPietY olaimediim when hie baBineee
waff, 9Yer, end he was se14ornatiuone•
SornetimesNea, playing in the ficiassre gerclea
tinder the !monis, would leek up and Bee a
sombre dark fail@ Watching her oYer the
reilings, lint he would seldom call her to
hips; bgt, Strange to say, the child
worshipped him.
When he rode away in the morning a,
beautiful little face would he peeping et him
through the geraniums on the balcony, a
little dimpled hand would wave confidingly.
Good-bye, /crepe," the would say in her
shrill little voice, bat he DOWD, heard her :
he knew nothing, and cared little, about the
lonely ohild-life that \yes lived out in the
spacioue nurseries of Belgrave House.
But, thank Heaven, childhood isi seldom.
unhappy.
Nea laughed and played with the other
children in the square garden; she drove
out with her governess in the grand open
carriage, where her tiny figure seethed
almost lost. Nea remembered driving with
her mother in that same oarriage—a fair
tired faoe had looked down on her smiling.
" Mamnia, is not Belgrave House the
Palace Beautiful? look how its windows
are shining like gold," she had said once.
f' It is not the Palace Beautiful to me,
Nee," replied her mother, quietly. Nea
always remembered that sad little speech,
and the tears that had once come into her
mother's eyes. What did it all mean ? she
wondered; why were the tears so often in
her mother's eyes? why did not papa drive
with theomfra.lnetimes ? It Was all a
in
Nea knew nothing about her mother's
heart -loneliness and repressed sympathies;
with a child's beautiful faith the thought
all fathers were like that. When Colonel
Hambleton played with his little daughters
in the square garden, Nem watolied them
curiously, but without any painful
comparison. My papa is always busy,
Nora," she said, loftily, to one of the little
girls who asked why Mr. Huntingdon never
came too; he rides on his beautiful horse
clown to the city, nurse says. He has his
ships to look after, youknow, and sometimes
he is very tired."
"Papa is never tog tired to play with
rae and Janie," returned Nora with a wise
nodofhead ; " he says it rests him so
ni
(To be continued,)
Didn't Ask Her Right.
Mr. Burclette insists that he overheard a
woman lecturing her husband as follows
on board a train; "Now I'll tell you why
I wouldn't go into the restaurant and have
O cup of coffee with you while we were
waiting for the train. I didn't
like the way you asked M8. Keep quiet.
I have the floor. Not half an hour before
you said to Mr. Puffer, Come, let's get a
cigar,' and away you went, gelding his arm
and not giving him a chance to decline.
When we met John O'Howdy on our way
to luncheon you said, Just in time, John;
come take lunch with us.' And then
to -night, when we found the train an hour
late, you looked at your watch, turned to
me, and said in a questioning way, 'Would
you like a cup of coffee?' And I did want
it; I was tired and is little hungry,
but I would have fainted before I would
have accepted such an invitation. And
you went away a little bit vexed with me
and had your coffee and bread and 'slitter
by yourself and didn't enjoy it very much.
In effect you said to me: If you want a
cup of coffee, if you really want it, I will
buy it for you.' You are the best husband
in the world, but do as nearly all the best
husbands do. Why do you men seem to
dole things out to their wives when you
fairly throw them to the men you know?
Why don't you invite me as heartily as you
invite men? Why didn't you say, Come,
let's get a little coffee and something,' and
take me right along with you? You
wouldn't say to a man, 'Would you like
me to go and buy you a cigar 7' Then why
do you always issue your little invitations
to treats in that way to me? Indeed, in-
deed, my dear husband, if men would only
act toward their wives as heartily,cordially,
frankly as they do toward the men whom
they meet, they wOulcl find cheerier com-
panions at home than they could at the
club."
Testing. the Lungs.
If you fear that your lungs are affected
you may settle the question by adoptiug
the following plan: Draw in as much
breath as you conveniently can, then count
as long as possible in a slow and audible
voice without drawing in more breath.
The number of seconds must be carefully
noted. In a consumptive the time does not
exceed ten, and is frequently less than six
seconds; in pleurisy and pneumonia it
ranges from nine to four seconds. When
the lungs are sound the tinie will range as
high as from twenty to thirty.five seconds.
To expand the lungs, go into the air, stand
erect, throw back the head and shoulders
and draw in the air through the nostrils as
much as possible. After having then filled
the lungs, raise your arms, still extended,
and suck in the air. When you have thus
forced the arms backward, with the chest
open, change the process by which you
draw it your breath till the lungs are
emptied. Go through the process several
times a day, and it will enlarge the chest,
give the lungs better play and serve very
much to ward off oonstunption.
Many reasons have been mentioned for
the lamentable mental state of the sister of
the Princess of Welee. The Duchess of
Cumberland has been, for Scent time past,
it is etated, addicted to the ilise of morphifie,
in large quantities, She fast had recourse
to tine seductive and insinuating drug to
soothe her overwrought nerves; end to such
an extent had the habit gtewii Upon her
that Piet before her mied gave Wel the
was accustomed to dee the tiny eythige
With which the hypederinie injectione are
made as many as twenty-five times a cley,
Twentsethtee mit Of thirty-eight States
n the Ubited States have demecratio
governors.
The Council of the ViliVersity Of Mel-
hofirrie has cideided by a large inaletity te
admit women AS students of reedieind,
The Medical IM:itilals he a rut% oppose the
pradtioe of the toddtfleatiOn Of men and:
women rnedicel stadente While fully en-
dorsing the ptifidiple,
Getting tta �t h Ulan is a very easy pro,
cess if You cite teeny in 00.1110SI about it.
Seine gide merry and fied their vietiins
With breed they have made theintelvde.
1Thie isa tOundabotit Way et teithig rid Of
O man.Piff Nye,
5
LATEST EHPH THE NORTHWEST?
• Despatches from the Presbyterian ex-
cursion show that the train was delayed iq
broken bridges, but the delegatee spent a
pleasant day at 13enff irspeeting the
anthracite goal seines and clarebering the
mountains, The latest despatch from
the excersion train received to -day says:
"At an early hour this morning
the speoial train entered the Kicking
Horse Pass, and elegy delegate was astir.
The river leaped and sparkled by our
side, and the .sun shone on the snow -clad
mountains, towering sometimes over 5,000
feet aboye the traok leyel, The cowcatcher
beingan excellent point of observation has
i
been n great demand all day, as natiny as nine
venerable delegates being perched on it
during a rim of tiventy.six miles. After it
short run across the firet valley of the
Columbia we began the ascent of the Sel-
kirk% and by noon were enjoying the
beauties of the,wonderful Rogers pass. At
Glacier House the party dined and cele-
brated the Queen's Jubilee with three
rousing cheere in her honor. There is
abundance of snow on the mountctin, from
the summit to the base, yet the air is
charmingly mild."
A despatch from Rapid City says: Last
evening, about 9.30, Miss Ada Armstrong,
aged 14, daughter of Mr, R. S. Armstrong,
miller, of this place, was drowned in the
mill -dam. Miss Armstrong was assisting
fa child to ODOM the foot bridge at the new
mill when from some cause they both fell
off. The other child, a daughter of Rev-
Mr..Ashe, was rescued by Mr. John Mc-
Collum. The body of Miss Armstrong has
not been recovered.
At the Methodist Conference in Brandon
it was decided to establish a Methodist
Theological Institute in Winnipeg at an
early date.
Bandmaster Farmer, of the Mounted
horse. crlice,
. wases ter da al ym oh sytbkeiinfigedtraaRegina
mt pleedonna bbyara- 4
It is proposed to give Mr. Watson a
banquet on his return from Ottawa. The
Board of Trade is taking the initiative.
Miss Frances Willard, the celebrated
temperance worker from the United States
arrived here to -night. •
I3irtle is agitating for a cheap exourfuon
for Ontario Wailers and their sons to this
country.
The General Assembly delegates have
returned from visiting the Indian reserve
tions. They speak highly of the treatment
accorded the Indians by the Dominion
Government, but seem to have a poor
opinion of the Indians themselves. They
say the redskins are very loyal and do not
contemplate any trouble.
, Lived With His Own Coffin.
Chandos Fulton, one of the directors of
the Lotus Club, ordered and paid for his
own coffin several years ago and keeps it in
his room, not as a memento mori, but as a
closet for choice liquors and cigars. It is
open on Sundays, as the exoise law of the
corporation council does not apply to coffins.
Mr. Fulton was once so very ill that the
doctors as in Charles O'Conor's case, de-
clared that he must die, and his coffin was
made and sent to the house. When he re-
covered the undertaker appealed to him to
pay the bill on the ground that, having
been made to measure, the coffin would not
fit anybody else. Mr. Fulton declared that
if he must pay the bill he would keep the'-'
coffin, have hinges put on the lid and use it
as a wardrobe for his dress suit. This idea
was plagiarized and adopted to the French
by Sarah Bernhardt, who used the coffin
as a bedstead. Again modified by Mr.
Fulton as a satire upon theologians, the
receptacle intended for the body is now
occupied by the spirits.—New York Worid.
Remarkable Transinission of Diphtheria.
We are reliably informed that a party in
the Fourteenth Ward of this city took
some clothes that had been employed about
O patient afflicted with diphtheria and
threw them over a thicken coop the other
evening to air. When the family came to
look into the coop the next rimming all of
its inmates were found dead. The dead
fowls had black marks on their throats in
each instance. And a whole brood of
young chicks perished in the same way.—
&at Lake News.
—A simple cosmetic which our grand-
mothers used was made from the petals of
June roses, and was said to be a great
beautifier, softening and whitening the
complexion. It is prepared by pouring over
a quantity of fresh rose leaves sufficient
white wine vinegar to cover the leaves.
After it has stood for a few days in thesun
the liquid may be strained off and run
through a flannel bag. Add a lump of re-
fined sugar, bottle it and keep in a cool
place.
TIM RIGHT ROAD.
" I have lost the road to happiness—
Does any one know it, pray?
I was dwelling there Nvhon the morn was fair,
But somehow I Nvanclereci away.
" I saw rare treasures hi scones of pleesutea,
And rit • 16 pursue thoin, when lo I
lOst the path to happiness
And I know not Whither to go.
" I have lost the way to happinesl-,-
Oh, who will load me
Turn off from the pathway of selfishness
To the right—;up duty's track I
Keep straight mode and you emit go wrong;
Pot mg sure as you live , say,
The fair, lest fields of happiness
Can only be found that way.
ELLA WIMELER W/LOOXt
—How the fashionable Parisian dresses
is indicated in the following note ; The
latest style for men ia a plain gray Prince
Albert with dark trousers, striped at the
side, and white linen or pique gaiters. In
the buttonhole a single tea rose, cilistered
with bluebells,"
ee-In the strawberry rezone of NSW
Jersey a cigar box is nailed on a tree close
to thd roadside in front of every farm house.
It is placed there to receive the latest
quotations for fruit. These quOtatiOria are
telegraphed fkOni the leading ities three
thrice a day, and are distributed by
reedgeng rs inotinted on bicycles. The ftuit
g re Wei. determ iteis by the qbOtatitififf Whether
beWill ship Ms dey'S 'Oohing
I Ade, the 14 -year -Old datighter of Mr, IL
Arinfitrong, of Rapid City, Man., end
formerly of the West End, Guelph town.
ship, weal drowned in the dam of her
father's inill redently.
The Piokeritig _gems' tells of tbe decease
of Arthur Kelly, 01 Brechin, a pioneer set-
iler, at the ago of 112. When maw 100 he
tode on horseback a distance of over tarentye
five miles on ono occasiOns
•