Exeter Advocate, 1901-3-28, Page 6LF;
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]g
ed
oeechoetmee
BY MARY
Girl.
CECIL HAY
Author of "Righted At Last," "Carried Away,!..
"Back to the Old Home," Etc., Etc.
-EQ 0'.-ILf'0"*.i.157,-0-04LET,•*•1*.go-o•g••••s•rEi X.6"0 -g.0 -04i14"••
PART I.
CHAPTER I.,
It was not to be eupposed that
that vigorous south-west wind,
which had swept, unhindered over the
Chantel, would not strive to avenge
itself when the long stretch of down
resisted it. In its angry astonish-
ment, it broke into disorderly and
rampant gusts; ono rushing to \\this-
tle down a cottage chimney; One
whirling through a half -opened door;
one bending, with a masterful deris-
ion, the row of poplars standing
against the fading line of color in
the west; one blustering among the
firs that stoodscattered, like grim
sentinels, about the old tower on the
wide slope' of the darkening downs;
and One whirling distractedly round
the tower itself, chafed into a more
and more boisterous mood, as it fail-
ed to find entrance there.
Sturdily meeting the jealous blasts,
as if it liked to feel the freshness of
their strength on its worn -breast,
the old square tower stood upon that;
southern slope, proudly seeming to
support, rather than be supported by,
the two long gabled whigs, whose
old black -timbered walls stand as
firm, even in such a gale as this, as
the hardy tower itself. -Yet if any
tower could have had the good ex-
cuse of age for tottering, .surely it
,was this; which had been. built when
workmen received a penny a day.
But from generation to generation
the Athelings—to whom' it had been
given as a reward for military ser-
vices—had so carefully preserved it,
that still on its outer walls, the
grotesque heads, carved by prisoners
in far -back years, were, most of
them, perfectly uninjured, and even
the least so had only had their harsh
points rounded by a mellow old age,
Even the great alarm bell was the
-very one svhich had been put upon
the tower by the old family, whose
name had been wedded to the pro-
perty for so many hundred yearS
that the last century was getting
middle-aged before they were divorc-
ed by the daring young soldier of
fortune, who had refused to sink his
own name and individuality in that
of his wife, even though she were an
Atli eling.
The tower with its narrow loon -
holes was but a hollow shell now,
for all its stalwart outside show,
and only formed the entrance hall
of the old mansion. But the four
stubborn walls' rose higher than the
wings, and its massive square meas-
ured the whole depth of the house,
while up in its unchambered height
there was obscurity even on a June
day, an d on this , January eVenitle;
heaviest darkness. ,
In the south wall was the arched
statrance aloor, ha-ving on either side,
-1,?xiarross-, heavily mullioned window.
the two walls east and west were
doors into the living rooms of the
intension, three on either side, • the
outer ones leading into- separate
rooiris, the centre ones into ,the long
wide corridors which connected theist
all, In the north -wall stood only
the open Bre-place with its wide low
chimney of carved black oak. High
on the walls above these doors and
windows, and the great fire -place 'in'
which a sulky fire -generally burned,
were relegated and -lost in gloom the
faded pennons of old tapestry -which
had been the Atheling'S pride, as
well as the curio -Us nil hide0u5 era'
gravings, among which Hoga•
looked very modern; while lower
down hung the -innovations of that
young Captain Basset, who had in-
sisted on leaving his heirs a new
plebeian name, as well as the tro-
phies of his sport and the legends of
his vandalsim—for was it not even
whispered that the four carved legs
of his billiard table had been the
posts of a mag,nihcent oak bed' in
which Queen Elizabetb had once
stretched her stately limbs?
But he had left legends of his cour-
age too, for had not he; a penniless
young captain of dragoons, won by
pure daring the beauty and heiress of
the county? Was it not, often told
still, ho -w- he had ,brou,g-he his troops
up from their barracks to *the tower,
-where (apparently without even need-
ing the word of command) they lined
the hall, (dosing up to ,shut Out the
stolid old servants of -the Atlielings,
while he, in full uniform, stepped
boldly' forward and took the hand of
' Primrose Atheling? She met 'him
with no evidence of unwillingness;
looking very lovely, and susTiicibta-
ly like a bride, prepared for him in
her long cloak of soft esterhazy silk,
and her beaver hat" of the same
dainty shadeg with its' lsroad brim
buttoned up b eh in cl alIb cord and
_tassels. As prolidly as if he were
already. her bridegroom, he led hcr
to the postechaiee, 'which -WaS in
waiting, with four fresh horses pant-
ing for , a start, and in a few mo-
anents they and it were out of sight.
But Squire Atheling had only been
whistling through hie' mothing
'and was soen made aware of 'whet
had heppenen.
Then what � het pursuit began, for
the suuire's horses, always more or
less overfed, actually for this once
rose to the occasion. Again and
again he heard, at the road -side,
inns, of the yellow chaise being less
than an hour in advance, and by af-
ternoon he had ,so' gained upon it
that turning a corner suddenly lie
saw the great chariot on the long
level road, not even '114,1f a mile'
ahead'. For quite two hours then
they kept SO near, that, once the
young soldier in hit; Conapicuous scar -
let, leaned daringly from the win-
dow-, and looking back, seemed to
the irate squire to be laughnig de-
flanCe at him.
No wonder that then his heat in-
creased, and that lie spared the hors-
es even less than he had done all
day, shouting with lustiest impati-
ence to the hestlers who changed
thein. And at last in the soft sum-
mer dusk what a moment of exulta-
tion it was for him, when he eale-
the great yellow chaise stationary
Outside one of the old posting -
houses, and knew that be had over-
taken the runaway couple on the safe
side of the border! Panting with
triumph he burst into the roem
where they were calmly dining, and
the walls reverberated to the un-
measured force of his language. But
its vehement tidti ebbed abruptly at'
the very moment of its fullest flow,
for the young, man in officer's coat
and cap who bowed to him so cour-
teously was only Captain Basset's
servant, and when the ' runaway
bride coyly removed the long cloak
and the wide beaver hat, she smiling-
ly revealed to heal the familiar fatie
and form of his daughter's pretty
For, hours before this, two people
had left the chaise, and the penniless
young soldier of fortune had quietly
sveded the heiress of the Athelings
in her native county.
But all this had happened fully
one hundred years before that 'Jan-
uary night, when the wind whistled
round that stanch old tower, and
when Primrose Basset came quietly
into the old hall. Despitethe mel-
ancholy of her face, she was beauti-
ful like that other Primrose, lint
there the likeness ceased, for the
young soldier of fortune, who was
certainly`not one of the typical Eng-
lishmen -eho take their pleasure ead-
ly, scattered the Atheling guineas to
such purpose that his stolen wife
was the last heiress of the long line.
Primrose Basset entered through
a door on the east side of the tow-
er, which led into the private room
of the master of the house. A Skye
terriox- lay on the bear -skin mat out-
side, and did not move as she step-
ped carefully past him; but as she
crossed the hall, though the anxious
face was turned from him, he lay re-
garding her wistfully as it seemed,
his jet-black eyes shining through the
long silky hair. Lying thus lvatt:h-
ing her, with his short ears- laid
ba.ek, he seemed to be waiting for
some expected sound, moving his
since- tail to and fro with h swaYing
motion, not :to be confused with or-
dinary wagging, -which would not
have become an animal so keenly
conscious that his own high, birth
could be proved in an instant 'by
that firm appendage. ,
The girl passed on to the wide old
grate, where a fire smouldered, nrei
opening a violin case on an oak
table near, took from its nest of silk
and flannel—with the tender touch
of a mother awakciefing her sleeping
child—the one dear friend and com-
panion of her.lonely life. After hold-
ing the violin for many minutes, and
then tuning it with reverent hands,
she drew the bow slowly across the
string in that first long note for
which the,dog seemed to be waiting.
'Yet before' she had even played an-'
other note he had uneasily risen,
turned his back to the slender figuee
he had -watched with such, devotion,.
'and stood with his nose outstretch-
ed in the angle of the fast -closed
door. '
At first the notes fell slowly on
the shadowy silence., feeling their
way, as it were, then they brighten-
ed and trembled into fuller life, until
they framed them -selves, beneath her
delicate touch, into a tender, yearn-
ing melody. It had panted itself
out uncertainly at first, quivering
with intensest feeling, as her *sad
thoughts strove for 'utterance; but at
last—being repeated and rePeated---
it grew into perfection, breathing
like a lovely solo voice among the
soft -toned choir. ' The girl knew
that, this pathetic air had slowly
grown °lit of her memory of, one
beautiful, haunting- strain in a sym-
phony .of Schubert's, but gradually
it had 'become difTerent. It was the
ueteranca of lonely, longing thoughts
that had often ,struggled for expres-
sion. It had ,grown to be her own
and when, at last; with a deep sigh,
she .dropped ,her bow, and put her
lips for a moment Lo the violin, svith,
teuching revelation of unstirred
depths of love and tenderness, she
knew She had made the sorrowful air
a part Of lier very being.
- For a few minutes she stood look-
ing doevn ' into the -fading ,fire; the
rapt look still in.her,eyes,the 'wistful
expression Still upon the melancholy
girlish fate; then she lifted her head
suddenly, and crossed theehall to that
door from which she entered searcely
half an houe before. Gently ,she Put
the terrier aside, but so Mechanically
that she was not' aware he followed
her .into the room.
When she re-entered the hall, - her
face was stiff and drawn and hag-
gard—like that of an old woman,
Faltering, , as if, she eould not see
her way, she trod the silent tower,
pausing beside the window simply
for the rest, of leaning there;
yet presently, while looking vaguely
through the small diamond panes, he
unconscious eyes grew able to ri 1 8-
tinguish the scene beyond; she start-
ed forward and opened the entrance
doer, tryieg fo move it noiselessly
upon its long black hinges.
"Oliver," she whispered, out
among the shadows; 'Oliver,"
'There came no ansWer, and for ct
second elm drew balk, the eagerneeel
suddenly re allied; bia only for a
second. ,
"Oliver!" she cried. again, In
frightful whisper, and a young man
came slowly and quietly up to her.
His gaze went beyond her, far into
the glownY hall, as he stood beside
the; door in silence for a minute, that
seemed an hour to the girl. She
hastily caught one of his hand e in ,a
nervous grip between her own, then
dropped it. as hastily, and pressed
her fingers to her line, through which
the breath came Panting. ,
"OiiVein" she Whispered, "how ter-
riblel"
''Terrible? Only to children," he
sainnsisite,crh
ed, ,the , rater supercilious
looking odd on his Indifferent,'
handsome face, "The thief in the
night again, but what matter? Un-
less you—" he put his hands on the
girl's shoulders and scrutinized the
pale young face. "Poor little Prim-
rose! Fora man's enemy to be his
own brother, signifies 'little enough,
but upon a woman, 1 dare say it
falls pretty heavily.' While I remcme
ber my own just cause to hate him,
I must remember youre
''Oh, hush!" she cried, Wit,11 an ap-
pealing glance into her brother's face.
"I want to remember only yours,
want to ,rernernber how you have
been forbidden to enter here—where
it ought to be home .to you—and
obliged to come like a thief, p.s you
say.. I want to remember his selfish-
_
ness—no," suddenly -drawing her-
self away from her brother's. touch, T
want to remember—nothing, a. will
net even speak to you-.-to-night,
1°`r'bOaidee fie:o''u will reinernb only
that?" he queried, with a hard'
laugh. "This is a ,change indeed.,
Your faith in me was nciteof a very
wearing quality, despite ,its protes-
tations—eh, Primrose? YOU :think
it has lasted long enough?"
"Long enough to break, rny
heart."
"Poor little heart!" the young
man said, his rapid' tones softening
to gentlenesse„"Ytm skould'be as in-
diffefent as I. It would be wiser, We
know that a man who makes others
suffer must take his own turn at
last t else we ackncesseledge no justice
in life. What has he said to you
this evening?" "
• "He would not listen. You know,
Oliver, how he never would listen to
me when I spoke on your. behalf. He
never was like a brother to me any
more than to you. It must be my
one comfort—now,','
"I thought so. He did not listen
to that final appeal of yours?"
"I did not call it final -,-to him,
she said, lvith a pitiful break. in her
voice. "And afterward 1: went back.
I had grown to feel differently—after
playing, and I 'fancied Miles might
feel differently too; and --, why • are
you looking at me so?" she broke
off, sharply.
"It is you who are looking oddly
at me. Go on. You event in to Miles
again, yon say?" -
"Go, go now, Oliver," 'She cried,
with startling abriiptness; and,
While an angry frown 'gatherea on
his face, he turned, without another
word; and left her.
She did not watch him; as she had
always done before. Her gaze was
fixed in the opposite diraikiongemong
tne bare, swaying branches.: Of a
huge willow, so old and decrepit that
it had 'been supported and repaired
by' iron hoops' and bolts. The • sud-
den harsh creaking of these- roused
her nervously at last—though the
melancholy noise had growe to be a
familiar one to her on windy nights-
-and She turned, and without clos-
ing the door behind her, ran in the
direction her brother had taken. No
_form was discernible but she had
intuitively taken the right path, for
When she reached the one remaining
fragment of the high wall, which had
once defended, the tower, she saw
him pausing on the edge of the dry
:
"Oliver," she said, standing be-
side -him with a pitiful attempt at
ease, and a still more pitiful uncon-
sciousness of its failure, "I- knoW--
'oh! 1 itn.ow finite well, dear—how
there comes times when the ' old
submission breaks its bonds:, and the
old endurance dies. There—there must
come such 'times. But you know
how love you: You know my
oWn life is nothing to nee compared
with bringing any happiness—or re-
lief—into -yours. And you will—as
I trifst you—trust me."
"Why, Primrose," he said, moving
suddenly, while his foot sent a stone
from the thick wall on which they
stood, rooling down into the grass --
grown moat below, "don't make
more of, our ' fraternal miseries than
need be. I'm pretty sure I've general-
ly deserved Miles's disagreeable
speeches, and I've often enougle'pahl
him back for them—always, when
wasn't hard up. We'll forget it all
—from to -night ---shall we? Now,
cheer up,' and, give nie a kiss." ,
"No—" He had taken her , two
hands between his own, and wonder-
ed why she wrenched them away in
a manner so unlike herself. After -
Ward he, remembered that when they
met his, they had shaken as if pal-
sied. ''No"—pushing the soft, dark
hair from her temples—'but I love
you, , Oliver, so well, so cruelly,
that--"
The wbrds broke off suddenly, and
she turned away in ,silence, while her
brother let her go alone, though her
step was slow enough now. .,,
Shrinkingly she re-entered the tow-
er, and stood by the dying fire, shiv-
ering in every limb. ,
"Primrose! . Primrose!"
It was almost an hour later when
this querulous cry broke the silence
of the,great dim hall, and the girl
for the first time lifted her bowed
head.
"I din here, grandthother.''
She thought she uttered the words
aloud, but no,sound follosvecl the la-
bored moventent of her ashen lips. '
"Always mooning somewhere in a
bat's light,''' the Peevish voice., com-
plained, as an upright, rigicl-looking,
little old lady carce toward.' , the
hearth. "-As usual, I look in yain for
consideration from you, Prinirose
YOU arc always bent on your OlVii
selfish enjoyment—just as -was
before my house was happily rid 'of
him. Always the same! Always 'the
same! I am very sure, that. if Aliles
knew how -you leave Me to myselfche
(TO 73E t:ONTINt1ED.)
Roo D BARNS,
Adrantageki Claimed For a rionud
mazes Ineleabag Round Silos.
prawing aome comparisons between
the round and the square ba.rii, Colonel
P. D. Curtis of Wisconsin writes to
The National Stockman and Farmer
as follows:, neighbor. Is building one
of the square oriler 30 by 00 feet, stone
basement, stalls for 30 Cattle, frame
about 20 feet high to roof, requiring
7,000 feet of Itimber for frame, It Is
180 feet around it and has an area of
1,800 feet, A round barn (30 feet in di-
ameter may have a stone basement
and same height above, more or less.
It will not take half as much lumber
Lor its frame nor half as much labor to
frame' and put it up and be' "vastly
stronger when completed. The area or
spaee it ineloses is 2,700 feet-ehalf as
much again as the square one compar-
ed with, and -the area of the walls 'will
be the same. 'It will give space for 40
to 45 cattle Stalls instead of 36 hi the
square barn, room for two round silos
16 feet each in diameter, if prdperly
filled 'folding not less than 300 ons, lo-
cated as -near as posSible in the Center
of the circle of the stock to Consume
the silage, saving more'than half 'of the
labor of feeding; silage when storeel.
outside the stable.
The plan a basement here proposed
'is designed to make 30 to 50 cattle com-
fortable 'in Winter. The outside circle
represents the wall of the barn. Pref-
erably I would have a circular row of
stalls around the outside, but thls, is
broken in upon to give room to drive
in a horse and cart -drive around and
out the same door to clean dut the
stable. The' stall partitions are/ to be
hung to a 2 by 10 piece of Studding in
the manger and the back end is to be
„
curais BARN.
held in place by a sort of stud button,
a 2 by 4 with one bolt to confine it to
the partition, the ends of the stud to
slide into slots in ,the floor above and
below, confining the cow in the stall
by a chain behind- her.
Preferably I would grade into a bank
16 feet high above the basement, which
would give spade for a room between
the stable and the floor above. It will
be 'well if we can get an ,eight foot
bank to- drive in over the basement,
better if we can get 16 feet and still
better if we can get 24 feet to the ga-
ble. If a ridge roof syith a third pitch,
it would give 'us ;thorn 20 feet to the
ridge of the roof where we would have
a hay carrier. Our silos going into
the earth ten feet below•Ithe stable
could stop at -the top floor or could go
some ten feet more to the „support of
the purline; "high enough to weight
itself."
A silo located as here recommended
is scarcely more than 20 feet from any
of the stock,
Sowing Timothy.
. In my opinion there is no better way
of getting a good stand of timothy
than to put the ground in good order
and sow the seed -about the last week
in September or first of October, one
bushel to six acres. ',I have sown in
corn' the -last time I 'worked 'the, corn
and got the best kind of a• stand of
timothy and clover, remarks a .corre-
spondent in National Stockman.
Official Crop Returns.
The August report of the gOvernment
statistician shows 'the following aver-
ages of condition upon Aug. 1: Corn,
87.5; spring wheat, 56.4; oats, 85; bar-
ley, 71.6; spring rye, 76; buckwheat,
87.9; potatoes, 88.2; timothy hay, 79.9.
The average condition of corn -declin-
ed two points during Tuly, and on Aug.
1 it was 2.4, points lower than „at the
Corresponding date last year, but .5'
point higher than on 'Aug. 1, 1898, and
1.3 points aboVe the mean of August
averages for the last ten years. The
conditions in the principal states are
as, follows: Ohio and Indiana, 08; Illi-
noiS, 96; Iowa, 105; Missouri, 99anane
Sas, 77, and Nebraska, 85, During
July there was an improvetnent of 8 ,
points in•Obio, 9 in Indiana, 4 in 3113- 1
nois and 3 in Iowa.. Oa the, -other er-
band there was a deeline of '2 points ri
in Missouri, .8 in N,ebraska, ttnd 22 in ;
The average condition of ispring„.„
Wheat improved 1.2 peInte akurines Jaly,
but on Aug. 1 it was 27,2 points .lewer
than at the corresponding ,diiite
year, 40.1 points lower than wi Aug. 3,
1898, and 27.8 points below the meart
of the August average for the last ten
years. The conditions in the princi-
pal states are as follows; Minnesota, ;
'58; North Dakota, 25; South 'Dakota,
49; Nebraska, 64; Iowa, 01. During
July there was an improvement of 1,0
points' in Minnesota, 5 points In South 1
Dakota and 1 point, In Iowa. On 11/0
other hand, there was a decline of 5
points in North Dakota rind of 2 point
In Nebraska.
The average condltien of oats de-
cline(1 .5 point during July, and on Art,g.
1 it was 5.8 points lower than at the
corresponding date last yeflr, 1)111 .8
point higher than On Aug. 1, 1898, and
2.7 point8 above the mean of the An
gust averages for the last ten years.
The conditions In the principal stales
are as follows: New York, 84; l'enn-
sylvania, '82; Ohio,' 93; 'Michigan, 301;
Indiana, 04; Illinois, 1)7; WiseOnalh, 77;
Minnesota, 57; Iown0 00; Missouri, 100;
'lianSas, 87, and Nebraska, 78,
--s-,etseaser--+-•-e
FORGET THEIR LINE
ij
RI A. lloyal Celibate.
^-r She was, in fact, in spite of her efforts,
to be linman, a born celibate. She loved
England, but ,she loved herself more, so
not even for Eiigland could slim take a
step which `1,,,,as so Myincibly repugnant,.
to lien The stOrY 01: her suitors, is full ,
h coarse humor, 'and it casts Many shin,.
s lights on her character, Iler preposterous
$ontirnentality for Sir Christopher Hat-,
„ton, who endeared 'himself to her by his
dancing, Survived many arguments on the,
part of her friends and many assaults
upon his influence by jealous and less
favored adorers. Once Leicester, asinine-
edto see his queen make a fool of lierseli
irtleatiotTegdry sahloidweitievniodteisnitoos'sseof theaiilinvootihnealn,
tried to undermine the favorite by intro"(
clueing, at court a very excellent dancing
master who, he thought, wonld quite oub,
shine Sir Christopher. But the qneen .vas
faithful' to lter friend. "Pislii" site said,
"I -will not see your man, flopping about
is his trade. let at last the graceful
5 Christopher went too far. The que.en'Sa4;
✓ had much to say. about platonic love, init,
platonic love is a dangerous plaything,'
Le and once in a .note to lier poor Ilattoi)
burst out in, some words that hael a
Ns -Inner sound than platonic regard al
rows. Elizabeth, reading the letter, paced
o erTI, sn)dveilaorillig the i'oom, angry an1o1c1
amus -
'Then `she made a rex-eerie- the truth of -
-which has forced itself upbninany other
.
women under corresponding eircums
;t,oe.,nlicesso,w!elVimbea; flueoelisi:eapefpatrieitelmtlyseisveenssii,ble,
, ,
ACTORS AND SINGERS OFTEN LOSE
PRESENCE OF MIND. •
EntItiarraNaing itreantiowliki
Occur on the stage and the Vari
GAIS DeViee111 to Witiell the' l'layer
Resort to Bridge the Gap.
"It's about the most embarrassing
thing that eau happen to one," recently
declared a well 10101V11 actor when refer-
ring to momentary lapses of meraory on
the stage.
"Some players," he continued, "are
peculiarly liable to forget their words,
and personally the longer I have been
playing one character the more prone tun
to run off the live. You see, you, as
They are so familiar that they fail to
it 1.verep get to know the worcl,s too 7011 -
claim your attention, and then oue night,
before you are aware of it, memory fail
you, and you find Yourself starinm at you
audience speechless.
"A tragedian told ine a rather peculia
story as te a breakdown that happened
to himself. In the middle of one of hi
speeches a lady dressed in bright rod
came into the stalls, and, watching th
patch of brilliant color, the actor forgo
his words. The next evening.a kind of
terror seized uPon him lest some one in
red should again take a seat and he re-
peat, his .previous bight's unfortunate
'performance, So strong had this feeling
become that, after three or four night's,
that 101111 actually bought his wife a
bright red dress and, got her to sit in:the
stalls so that he might overcome his, an -
prehension. ,
"Another man I know plays in Musical
comedy. He never forgers. the lines, of
his spoken „partg; but often 'make § al,slip
in a song. He comes to the end of a line
and can recall nothing but the bcginhirig
of the next verse, and he has to stop -the
orchestra and begin over again. Sorae
singers, when in this predicament, /just
sing on num-ti-tum' to the tune tillthe
words come back. Some have told: me
that having ,once been at sea with their
words they are sure, out of nervousness,
to make another slip the sanie evening.
They are so anxious to avoid another mis-
take that their minds can think of noth-
liinnges.but that they must remember their,
s
words. Tie singing, the tune, of course,
somewhat assistyou to remember the
"As you know, the prompter usually
comes to the rescue of the player so
stranded. But occasionally that official
iS not at ills post, and then the rnan on
the stage has to wrestle' with his brains.
Sometimes 000 of the company will, per-
haps very audibly, supply the omission.
While some, players when they 'break
down resume as best they can and take
no notice of the mishap, others gag or
take the audience into their confidence.
Said one over the footlight: 'Now', those
are just the very words r thought I
should forget. The_ gas man called as I
was learning them.' Another, on coming
to one of these awkward full stops, said:
'Pardon ,me, please. I was thinking
whether'there was enough of -that cold
chop to do for 'supper and quite forgot
my words.' 'These things sound poor
enough to relate, .but at the same time
they 'go'_well enough. .
"One singer who broke ' down said:
'Look here! We'll get over that difficulty
by dropping the verse altogether: You'll
still get your money's worth, ,for I'll sing
the last verse twice.' There is one little
trick that usually 'goes doWn well. The
singer has failed and has had to appeal
to the prompter. When he finis-bes his
song, he darts -off and drags on the
prompter -probably in his shirt sleeves -
to share in the applause, which is usually
quite enthusiastic.
"NS'ell, as most players keep their.mern-
ories 'in hand, as I must Say, some pecul-
iar things have happened. In one play
an actor 'doubled' two parts. He was
an old rcum in the prologue and a young
one later on, and in each lie had a longish
speech to make. These speeches he al-
ways attempted to transpose, and one
night he got out some four or five lines
of the wrong speech ere -he realized what
he was doing. Another man played in a
piece having a darkened scene. Stepping
on to the gloona-shrouded stage, he, to no
one's surprise more than his Own,' com-
menced a portion, of a partethat he had
played in another drama having a similar
`lights low' episode.
"There are some vocalists who cannot
trust themselves to sing -a single note in
public without Ithe priated or writtea
words. This is awkward if -they obtain
engagements -and most seek them -on
the variety stage, for there, as you know,
it is not the custom -to hold music in the
hands. Some ballad singers and others
write the words very small onla Card and
hold this in the palm of the 'hand. I,
heard of one man who, singing three new
and rather, difficult Songs, adopted this
little device. He got so used to having
the words'there that he was afraid to do
without them. When he, changed to
other' songs, be attempted to dispense
-with the paper, but he found that he had
become so used to having it to look at
129W and again that he was 111 at ease
-and a-a-kr/mid before his audiences with--
te° `clii0ilte.oriPterraobpresaeke,doowpenrsa airsesnpoetelaIl twhoinrkk:
opera season is an event that.ex-
ite,,, great interest, and all renderings are
nevitably contrasted with those of other
grttat singers. This puts the players on
their mettle and keeps them excited
about their work They have no chance
01 playing and singing mechanically, arid
:10 Ibair MeM017 toes not often fail them.
any :dips that do occur are usuallyicaus.
ed by nervousness. I heard of one prima.
lona who, in a new opera, tad a par-
leularly fine song to sing. So eager was
she to get to this that by mistake she
tailed it instead of one that should have
preceded it. Th G conductor luckily saw
be /dip instantly, and, rrmsing his men,
K, clevyrly Went with the singer. She
1013 y(1 a little 11S the trlith 1511ed up-
on her. but, having the music/ all eon.
'ect. she sang the song out awl earned
great app!aose. „
"As I have 811 id, however, sebile you
i,cse!nittciiiretit h eouTglchAiylikierlytereost peirn enyeeoura
breakdown , On a long run the opposite
15 the case, and it is when you are so
familiar with the words that yeti don't
bother about them that you suddenly dis-
cover you have for the time being lost
the in al together,"
,
Spinsters In Clover:
In Denmark the spinster's state bas
been robbed of much 'of its horror -in,
fact, there's a premiuni on the Spinstere
hootl. A celibacy insurance 'compa
has been founded, and betWeen an, i,
surance'policy and a husband a Danish'
'Maiden's laeart'is rent with indecision. /
Matrimony is interesting, but problem-,
atic. Insurance hi a gtiod company is
a safe proposition. How shall a wise
r
woman choose? • ,
If the'holder of a policy in the celibacy
is still uninarried at 40, she is considered
immune and gets a life annuity. If she
marries before 40, she forfeits her policy
and premiums.
In Swedenand Norway there are sev-,
eral old maids' homes, and at least' one
'of -them is a moSt attractive institution)/
A very wealthy man,-- dying more than
200 years ago, left na,ost of his fortune to
the oldmaids among his descendants.' I
A superb -home was built and furnish<
ed and managed by salaried trustees)
Any old maid who can prove 'blood re-,
lation'ship to the founder of the institu-
tion 'is entitled to a place in the home.
She has a private suit of rooms, a ,pri-
vate servant, private meals and is sub-,
ject to no rules save such as ordinary
good behavior demands.
A Quaint Custotn.
A curious wedding custom, a ,survivat
of the felklore of the fatlierlan'ir;is found
in the German settlement about Buckles.,
Ills., and in . -the townships farther east.
When a young couple is to be married,
the elder brother of the bfhle starts out
on horseback a few days before. If the
bride' has no brother, some other malel,
member o2 the family takes the ple:cer,
His summons is just as effective in -as-
sembling the guests as the engraved invi-'
tations of society folk in the citie4. He
is a picturesque figure. In his invitation'
trip he is the recipient (if many perqui-;
sites in money or gifts, which, by right
of custom, are kept as his own. At eyei'y';
place where he leaves an invitation to the;
wedding the recipients are expected
give hii something. The size of the gift
is regulated by the circumstances Of the'
receivers. It may be a piece' of hioney,1
a bill or.a coin, or it may be only a ribbon
or a trinket. rims -ever small, the pros-
ent is invariably expected and given. As
he -receives his gifts he pins the bills to
his clothing or hat, sews on the coins and
ties the ribbons to his horse's bridle. As:
he progresses on his rounds the gifts are
added one by one till his clothes are opr----
lent with money and trinkets:
:
The Boy's Room.
The boy's room should not be neglect‘
ed Let it be bright and cheerful and'
furnished for -.wear. Matting is too;
fragilewt
ile with eft obe°1;tIr. a h ts1 ' Iibitalvgeaewr
Pai n te
fla
carpet or a warm colored ingrain. Let?
the room suggest the owner. TJnIess he
be very msthetic do not drape the mantel/
and swathe the windows in lace. A boy/
will look out of doors -and the muslin!
curtains may as well _be looped back. If,
you cannot give him a leather or pan -1
tasote couch, dress up a cot in brown, blue
or red denim or in pretty art ticking for'
O lomaging place. Give 'him bookshelvee
or cabinets for curiosities or an oppor-t,
tinily to develop any fad he may have,
taken up. Be sure that he has an 'easy,
chair and a footstool; also, if he is old,
enough, a mirror in a place light enough'
for throat,
rs himoatt.oshave himself without catting
h
Her Antograp2a Fireplace.
A college girl graduate whose parent‘
aria trying hard to reconcile her to thd,
shades of lmine life is having her own
room done ,OVer. She has had her own;
way in every detail of the alteration, and
the family doesn't think that higher ediel,
cation is infallible in matter,s of house
hold decoration. i
Ono feature of the new room doev..;
credit to a college education, though. The
fireplace is a large one with a high shelf,
and vast expanse of soft green tiling.
The sweet girl graduate bought the un -i
glazed tiles and asked each of her
mate friends to svrite his or her name
upon a tile. Then she had the ,-9,M•sa.,--A
graphs burned into the porcelain and the
collection set into the fireplace.
The decorative value of the idea may
bo pureestiroenneeh
d, I he sentiment is he-
y
; Sayings About Women.
There Ore few husbands whom the witk-
ndnolo_
tvewiaian the long von by
011
reiterite de V
a
loi
s
.
On great occasions it is almost alwaY3
women who have given the strongest
proofs of virtue and devotion,--alont
lo
soGft°(hlabnIdessstinadll pgiotoydingw°111neaciII
To tiieii
•its
wo last. --Hol riust
all come n es.
The hell for women who are only hand'
sortie is old age,-SItint Isvretnon ;
i
An old woman s a very bad bride, bit
Tho Liberty statlie in New York is .0 Is.'erY geed wife. -Fie ding.
t(roett!r;'''‘ '11.11effilgil'.)t(411.101),avrIvedloe,IsvtaNlyalre' ric"Snai;Atitildf4 31 01150 as l‘111 -a• tirninge hos its uuknown gTr'ciritst C0heel,
tiers and philosophy its 'Deseartes.,-Bal-
10(1 et and I.1
100310))..
dOn't-Watr6 WOrnall' to weigh inc in -
. ,
TinsVare Watt 6rat. 'mad ifl t,itis P072 a balanee„ Them are men enbagli fOr
try in 1770- 's of Wor .
tl
111
tie
go
cis
a
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ti)1
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tin
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let
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