Loading...
The Gazette, 1893-11-02, Page 2. - - NOT WISELY BUT TO{Yt WELflitnation foi is trying to CHAPTER XXXL—(CoerrneueP). The Count is devoted admirer of the Lady Jean's. The Count has been first in favour with her for months past, and the Count looks with extreme wrath on this young stripling who appears to have sup- planted hien, and who is so serenely uncon- scious ot the fact. The reuse.' to play irritates him still more. He knows Keith is very rich, and had hoped to revenge his wounded feelings by fle.ecing him with ease. Keith has frust- rated this agreeable project, and that fact rankles in the Count's breast, beneath the expanse of white linen and glittering orders that adorn it, so levishly. The evening goes ore Wine is handed round and freely drank. A little more noise and freedom than usual pervade the pretty, gilded rooms. Lady demi gets eomeweat uneasy. She contrives to get rid of Keith ; it does not suit her purpose that he should think of her as any- thing but highly decorous. When he leaves and she comes back,Count Karolyski throws down his cards, declaring he is tired of play, and comes over to her side. " You are cruel, madame," he says in French. "You have deserted us the whole evening." She throws herself back in her chair with a little laugh. " Cruel ? You had better amusement than my company." " Amusement ! Ie is not thet," he says, with an ardent glance from his dark, flashing eyes. " You are cold—fickle. You are breaking my heart for the sake of that American boy." She interrupts him with pretended indig- nation. " Count, you forget yourself ! I permit no one to arraign ray actions.' "Far be it from me to do that. I would not offend you for worlds, madame ; but I cannot refrain from expressing my feelings when I see your old friends thrust aside and forgotteo, for the sake of a beardless youth to whom Fortune has been kinder than to us." "1 do not forget my friends," says Lady Jean with a quick glance • " and I am only civil to this boy because he is friendless and alone, and I took pity on his solitude." " Your pity, madame, may be a danger- ous favour. To those whom you really compassionate, exclusion would be the Everyone is not as foolish as yourself, greater mercy." Count," she says with a soft glance. It is pleasant to hear she is still beautiful —still can play the part of an "apple of discord ' to men. " Because, perhaps, everyone' hes not found your presence what I have found it." " Hush !" she says, softly ; "you are talking folly, and you know it. The days are over when I believe in compliments." ." You do not suppose I am insulting you by anything so commonplace ? Compliment is the language of fools and flatterers. I am speaking the plain, unvarnished truth." "Truth !" and she laughs lightly ; " who speaks the truth now ? It is as old-fashion- ed a virtue as honesty." " Unless one flub it impossible to act indifference." " Come, Count," she says, good-humour- edly, " we know each other too well to talk in this strain. We are all bons camarades here ; no sentiment, and no seriousness. I gave you credit for more sense than to fear you would break through the rule." His brows contract with a sudden angry frown. " You do not mean what you say ! A woman like yourself cannot set bounds to a man's admiration, or check his feelings by ridicule. I have scoffed at sentiment all my life as a thing fit only for boys and women. But all that I have hitherto disdained has amply revenged my past indifference. And you—yeu have not discouraged me, ma- dame ?" Her heart beats high. A sudden warm colour eomes into her face beneath its dIi- cate rouge ; but not from any gratification at this homage—not for any reason that makes him interpret these signs as flatter- ing to himself. Only because she sees her- self a step further on the road of her venge- ance—only because triumph whispers to husband and make his home a paradise," her that the end is not far off. answers Colonel Carlisle. "I am not greet She rises after those last words, laughing at poetry, as you know, but I own to an still. "1 do not believe in love, monsieur,any admiration of those lines of Tennyson in more than yourself. No one has been able to 'The Princess.' You know them : convert me. To parody an old saying, with For woman is not undevelopt man me it is only a case of Le reine s'amuse.' " But diverse; could we make her as the man " And is this boy only a plaything Sweet love were slain ; his dearest bond is also ?" he says, with angry sneer. Not like to like, hut like in difference, " Of course. Is he not a charming one ?" Yet in the long years liker must they grow— she says with sudden gravity. " So earn- The man be more of woman, she of man. est and credulous; quite refreshing. We have so long passed that stage of life, nous Till at he last she sets herself to mans mitres." Like perfect music -unto noble words. " With women like yourself for teachers, "Yes," she says. "They are very true, is that a, matter of wonder, madame?" although a man wrote them." "Now you are sarcastic, and that is hor- "Don't you believe our sex understands rid. Why, Cunt, I do believe you are yours, then?" he asks, teasingly. jealous of my pretty boy ! I thought you "No ; I do not," she says, decidedly. "I were wiser than that." think no man yet ever quite comprehended a woman's nature, any more, perhaps, than And laughing her soft, amused laughter, we comprehend a man's. I think that is she passes on into the card-roem, leaving him standing there with the mellow lanip- light on his dark, passionate face, and shin- ing in the lurid depths of his eyes. At that moment he hates her and himself, and hates tenfold more the man he has chosen to con- sider as his rival. thaterasnh: rfieczscoonf vlecietdh 'sat!: I 1 work some mischief. You remember hei tic, friendly, and appears interested in him. At present nothing seems of much con- eequence or account. The fierce suffering . of the last two years has been lulled into a sort of quiescence. The good resolutions formed during that_period of langour and convalescence have taken just sufficient root to strengthen Lim as far as Lauraine is eceicerncd, and with that eelf-sacrifice they end. Life looks very monotonous, very dreary at present, and there is jun a little fillip given to its monotony by Lady Jean. It is not that he likes her—it is not that he respects her, but he drifts into a sort of intimacy before he really knows it, and she is always at band to sustain her influence. And it so happens that all this comes to the ears of Lanraine, filtered through the letters of mutual. friends, put in as spice to various gossip detailed to her from Paris. At first she cannot believe it, It seems too horrible ; but unfortunately a letter comes from Lady Etwynde radiant in the flush and glory of her matronly honours, and revelling in Paris delights with her handsome husband; and that letter mentions casually the same thing, "Keith Athelstone has been driving in the Bois with Lady Jean ;" "1 have met Keith and asked him to dinner, but he excused himself on the plea of a previous engagement v-ith Lady Jean," etc., etc. Lady Etwynde tells her this, thinking it may really keep her from brooding over the idea that she has ruined her young lover's life ; but had she known the tor- ture it would have inflicted, she would have been silent on the subject. .Lady Etwynde's idea of Keith Athol - atone has always been jhat he is selfish and inconsiderate, and that Lauraine is quite thrown away upon him ; she feels convinc- ed now of her own sagacity when she sees how foolish is his conduct. She herself takes no notice of Lady Jean, and when Keith excuses himself to her on the plea before mentioned, she feels dis- gusted and annoyed, and tells her husband she will have nothing more to say to the young man. She would have been civil to him for Lauraine's sake, but if he pre- fers Lady Jean, why to Lady Jean let him go. "1 knew he would never be constant," she says, complainingly. " Really men are too horrible." "With one exception," smiles Colonel Car- risle, looking proudly at the bright,petulant face that seems to have regained all its old sparklinglwitchery and youthfulness with the "old " happiness. "Ah, Cyril, there is no one like you !" she answers. " My darling," he says. " Every woman says that of the man she loves, and every man of the woman. I think you are hard upon poor Keith. Fancy, to love a woman with all one's heart and soul, and know she can be nothing to one. Ah heaven ! how fatal a thing is marriage sometimes—how sure one ought to be of oneself be,fc re enter- ing into a lifelong union." " We are sure !" she murmurs, softly, nestling closer in his arms, as they stand side by side in the twilight shadows. " Thank God, we are !" he says, with passionate earnestness. " But often and often I think, if it had not been for the sins and follies of the past—for the wrong and the suffering—cur love would never have been as deep and intense a thing as it is. I shall never forget those years, and how hopelessly our lives seemed severed—with what reluctance I came home to England —how I dreaded to hear you were another's —and then, after all--" "After all I was your own," she whispers as he pauses. " And we are so happy," he resumed, piesently. " Are we not, my queen of aesthetes ?" She laughs a little tremulously. "Indeed, yes ; but I fear, dearest, the dueen has sadly neglected her subjects. Women's missions are all very well until men inter- fere with them. Then there is a lamen- table failure of all the grand schemes and projects." "A woman's first mission is to love her how we se often mistake and misjudge each other. We expect a mend() .act as we would act, and he expects us to act as he -would ; and that can never be. Another thing : we have such quick instincts, and are governed so often bv sympathy or anti- pathy ; you are slow in your judgment, and It had been true, as he had said, that he reason where we act." had deemed himself above all such weak- "Yes," he auswers, thoughtfully ; "but nesses, until the fascination of this woman hadcontrast is the salt of life, iny darling. We entered into his life and fired his soul should not find any attraction in each other with a passion, sudden, wild, fierce, and if we were quite alike, and regnlated our absorbing even as it was revengeful. To lives and actions on the same principles. win her he would have done much. He was I But to return to aur subject. I am certain not a poor man, though far from being rich, Lady Jer.n is up to some mischief, and I would give anything in the world to get Keith Athelstone away from her influ- ence. What can possess him to be always there ?" "Not always, dear," says his wife, i•e- bukingly. Three times within a fortnight. I cannot understand it myself. I should like to give him a hint, but I am afraid. He might take offence, and I know what men are. Warn them against a woman and they immediately run after her ; try to turn them from a purpose, and they throw themselves heart and soul into its pursuit." "You should treat them as the Irishman did his pigs—drive them one way and turn their heads another," laughs Colonel Car- lisle. "But you surely don't imagine he cares_ for Ladygean ?" "No ; I give him credit for better sense. But she is a dangerous woman, and I am as Lady Jean counted riches. Still he was of good birth, and boasted of pure Magyar descent, and had noble and ancient estates in Hungary, and thought himself no ill match for the daughter o, a poor Irish Earl. Bat that Lady Jean should encourage his homage and then ridicule it, filled him with fierce anger. He leaves her room that night with a cold farewell, and for two days does not approach her at all. Lady Jean is amused. It is what she expected, and she does not resent it. She tees Keith daily now—in fact, takes care that she shall see him, for she is not desir- ous that he should escape her toils. • Against his judgment, against his bet- ter reason, Keith Athelstone submits to ber caprices and permits her to draw him, to her presence. He is unfortunately in that state of mind in which a man is easily certain has some purpose in view. I know influenced hy a woman if she is symI pathe- she hates Lauraine; I am ually certain plot aeoutgettinsekim to Falcon's Chase?" " Yes. That was a piece of deviltry, and no mistake. I have thought more of the young fellow since his refusal than ever 1 did before." "Keith is a strange charaeter "seys Lady 1 Etwynde, musingly ;" so headstrong and Ipassionate, yet so loving and true ; so wild, and yet so easily controlled ; so selfish, and yet so weak. Lauraine has great influence over him—more than any one else has, I think. I believe when once she made him see things in their true light, once she showed him that the love that would dis- honour a woman is the last love worthy of her acceptance, he would turn from what seemed her own tempting. But he must have known it could not be that." " Lauraine is a good, true woma.n,thoagh she has made a fatal mistake in life, and now it is too late to remedy it," says the Colonel, regretfully. " What sad words those are, 'too late !' Just to have missed all that makes life desirable, just to meet and love, and find that Fate has placed an impassable barrier between you and that love. Ah, me !" ".pon't sigh !" whispers his wife tenderly. "Our 'too late' was just in time after all." "Thaok God for that !" "I do," she answers, fervently. "But how my own happiness makes me regret her loss! 1 never thought I could love any woman so dearly as I love Lauraine ; and I feel, oh ! so sorry for her now !" "So do I—for Keith." "And you think we can do nothing?" "I fear not. It is such a delicate matter. He may be only striving for forgetfulness after all. Men do foolish and desperate things sometimes for love's sake." "That is one of the things we women who love you can't understand," says Lady Etwynde. "To us those excesses to which we are accused of driving you seem de- grading and contemptible. We can only excuse sins that are not against ourselves, I suppose." " Doubtless it looks cowardly," says her husband, "to fling away our self-respect because something has not been as we wished it ; but then thatsomething is worth everything else in the world, or we think so, and losing it, all else seems of no ac- count." "In that respect we set you an example, do we not?" laughs his wife. " We don't go to perdition because we are disappoint- ed in love." "Because your natures are so different. The same rule cannot apply to a man and a woman. I thought we had agreed on that before " says Colonel Carlisle. "So we had. Instance Keith and Laur- aine." "And my lady and—myself." And he bends down and kisses the sweet red lips. That closes the argument. They forget all about Keith and Lauraine ; they talk now of their own love, and of each other. CHAPTER XXXII. TRIUMPHANT. It is a week later. Lady Etwynde and her husband have left Paris and gone back to the stlietic mansiou in Kensington. They have de- cided on living there still. To Lady Et- wynde it is endeared by many memories and associations, and her husband is con- tent with whatever pleases her. Lady Jean is still in the gay city, and so is Keith Athelstone. "How the affair drags !" murmurs the Lady Jean to herself one evening, as she is making her toilette. "Karolyski is per- severing, I can see; but Keith —he i6 quite too stupid. I must try and hasten the denouement. Besides, Frank comes back in a few days, and I don't want him to suspect. Could I bring matters to an issue to -night, I wonder ?" She looks at herself in the glass, and a flush of triumph rises to her cheek. She looks supremely handsome in a dress of black satin, with judicious touches of white lace and white flowers ; and as she sweeps into her rooms and sees Keith's involuntary glance of admiration, she feels a little thrill of triumph. As the evening goes on, as her guests assemble, she contrives that Keith Athel- stone should be always by her side and though the scowling face of Count Karolyski is frequently turned towards her, she is by no means intimidated. He and Keith are mutually antagonistic to each other, and to -night the Count's manner is almost insulting. Again, the question of play is mooted, and again he taunts Keith with his care of his dollais. The evening is very wenn, and the young fellow has drunk more wine then he usually doek , and Lady Jean has taken care that it is wine both strong and exciting. At the Count's veiled sneers he loses his temper—never a very forbearing one—and, forgetful of promises and rosolutions, sits down at the table. The stakes grow higher ; he is winning fast, Again and again is he victor, and aeain'does the money of the Count flow into his keeping. Lady Jean comes near him and leans against his ehair. Her perfumed hair almost sweeps his cheek. As he glances up he -meets all the dark intensity and lustre of her eyes. " You are wonderfully fortunate in— everything," she says, smiling; and the Count glances up and crushes back an oath between his set teeth. Then quite sudden- ly, and with the most serene innocence, Lady Jean stoop and picks up a card by Keith's side. " You have dropped this," she says, and lays it on the table. The ace of spades—you have already played that, monsieur I" says Count Kate olys k I. " It cannot be mine then," says Keith, quietly. The count throws his cards contemptuous- ly on the table. • " Monsieur's luck may be wonderful, lent with double aces in his hand it is not so re- markable after all !" Keith starts up—his hot young blood aflame "What do you mean—do you dare insinuate--" The Count's laugh falls across the horri- fied silence of the guests as they draw near. " Insinuate ? No, monsieur—it is for you to x1110tthhi ini t' c explain," says Keith, proudly. " There is no proof that that e`f have card belonged to me. If you doubt my word, my honor, I am perfectly willing to answer for both." " Hush ! hush ! whatare you saying," cries Lady Joan, horrified.. " Of coarse it • is all a miatak • Mt Athelsibno, pray be et. . e ... calm." - , Calm ! The hot bloo44s rushing throlgb Keith's veins—his eyes have their worst and most passionate light. "Your friend has thought fit to insult me, madame," he says. " I demand an apology or satisfaction." " Pardien, monsieur !" laughs the Count, in his most insulting manner. "1 am sorry I cannot answer your first demand; as to the other I am at your service." There is an instant's silence. Women with blanched faces, men with surprise and embarrassment, look on these two who face each other—on the tail slight figure with its dauntless grace and bearing, on the blue eyes flaming with anger and defiance; and then on the cruel, smiling lips and calm, dark face of the Hungarian. Connt Karolyski turns, says a few words to a man near by, and then, with a bow, leaves the room. Keith turns to Lady Jean. " I regret that such a scene should have happened in your house," he says, calming his voice by a violent effort. " You will excuse my with- drawine now, madam?" She has grown veryspale. As he quits the salon she follows him. " Mr. Athelstone, do not proceed to ex- tremities. The Count is a deadly shot. He has fought reore duels than I could tell you. —and you—" " Do you fancy I am afraid?" interrupts Keith, turning his flashing eyes upon her face. " Or that I value my life so much, I would try to save it even for less cause ? No, let him do his worst. An insult like that----" " It was shameful, I know," says Lady Jean. " But still you might leave Paris— you might--" " For what do you take me?" interrupts Keith passionately. " Do you think I am a coward ?" " No ; oh no," she murmers, hurriedly. " Only you are so young and life is all be- fore you. Why should you forfeit love, happiness, all that may be in store,'just for a fancied insult that has questioned your honour. Keith looks at her searchingly. The old vague distrust of this woman is at work within his heart. He answers her very coldly. " It is my honor I avenge. I do not fancy even you,as a woman, could counsel the ac- ceptance of such an insult as your friend has thought fit to put upon me." eAnd with a bow he leaves her presence. (To BE CONTINUED. BBICIK 31AKING. An Ind usrty That is Almost as Old as Ilistory. The art of making bricks is almost as old as the history of civilization, the most ancient records bearing mention of the in- dustry, showing it to be older than any other branch cf pottery. it appears that the early inhabitants of Babylon, descend- ants of the sons of Noah, were the first clay -workers of whom we have authentic knowledge, for in 2217 B. C. (Genesis xi, 3-4) they used the clay or mud which was found on the plain of the land of Shiner and formed bricks therefrom, which were thoroughly burned and then used in the ex- terior construction of the walls and mounds of Babylon, the largest of these mounds, it is supposed, being the tower of Babel. The mortar or slime used as a binding material for the bricks was probably the semi -fluid bitumen found in the stoneless valleys of Euphrates and Tigris. The interior of the mounds was filled with unburnt or fa un - dried bricks partly laid in clay and bonded, every five or six courses, with layers of reeds and partly laid in very tough lime mortar. Many ancient Egyptian buildings and pyramids, 'nide in a similar manner of sun-dried bricks or adobes, are still stand- ing in a good state of preservation, the pyramid of Howara, ten leagues from Cairo, being a notable example. The man- ufacture of brick seems to have been an important industry with the Egyptians and the enslaved Israelites, for it is frequently mentioned in the Old Testament. in connec- tion with their history, one of the princi- pal occupations of the slaves being the making of stn -dried bricks, in which grass or straw and stubble were intimately mixed with the clay to bind the mass firmly to- gether. The bricks made in Nineveh were usually sun-dried, measuring from six to sixteen inches thick, while the Babylonian bricks were more frequently burned in a kiln and were about thirteen inches square by three inches thick. In addition to these, there were triangular bricks for corn- ers of walls, and wedge-shaped bricksor arches. They were also variously colored, mostly red, yellow or blue, though 'green black and white bricks were not uncommon. Many, notably all those made during the reign of Nebuchadnezzar, had his naive stamped thereon-. Evidences of the per manency of color of these bricks and of the inscriptions on some are constantly being found in the ruins of Babylen. Many that have been gathered are coated with a thick enamel or glaze. • The dry, warm atmos phere and the preserving climate of Egypt, Assyria. and Babylon have probably been more conducive to keeping these sun-dried bricks in a state of preservation for over 3,000 years than the great perfection attain- ed in the making of them, although the ancients devoted an abundance of time to their arta. Sun -baked bricks of ancient date have been tound in the mud wall of old- towns of India and Java, while the Chinese have for ages made excellent bricks, usually of a slaty -blue color, to some of which they give a glazed surface, like porcelain. The great wall of China, built in.211 B. C., was constructed of burnt and unburnt bticks.— Messier's Magazine. -- He Could Never Love Another. He felt at his heart a dreadful pain, And with tears his eyes were And he said that he never could love -again, On the night that she jilted him. But, although with a sigh and his brain in a whirl That night he bemoaned his fate, He was madly in love with another girl Just a fortnight from that date. Better Left Unsaid. Maud : " How do you like the new Way I do my hair, Frank ?" Frank (wanting to say something partic- ularly nice) : " Why, you -look at least thirty years younger !' AS BIG AS A AR 8111Ik maraige,enee of the erman Emperor's Yacht Hohe zollern. The Hohenzollern is magnificent vessel, and looks more like a c riser than a yacht. She is built of steel, pare ted white and un- pelled by twin screws, connected with a double set ofengines. Her average spee,1 is nineteen knots an hour, and, aecordie to the London Queen, this can be teceease to over twenty knots in the hour Tie, Hohenzollern has two wheels, one at th. stern, the other near the bow, the latte- worked by steam, the former by man pow - both being painted white and gold, wit . nickel spokes. The yacht is armed wits eight, quick -firing Krupp guns, and, wit. her graceful outlines, sits high in the wate She has three masts and two funnels, paint ed yellow, i he gilded imperial Gernia, crown on the prow, and the Hoheuzollere coat of arms in black and silver, surround ed by a laurel wreath, on the stern. Te.e deck is covered with linoleum, and over s large part there is an awning where, in fine weather, the emperor has luncheon and tea parties. In the fore part of the vessel is a bridge reserved for the emperor. It is ap- proached by a mahogany stairway and has mahoganyTheemp errailings.o apartments on the middle deck amidships are on the port side, those of the empress and her children on the starboard side. Wainscoting, doors, aud staircases, as welt as other fittings and furniture, are of very light-colored, almost white, maple wood ; the ceilings white, picked out with gold ; the rococo chim- neys of nickel, and the walis covered with cretonne, varying in pattern in the various apartments. The lofty and spacious dining saloon on the middle deck is 25 feet broad by 75 feet long, and by an ingenious ar- rangement of portieres can be made of any size the emperor pleases. It is unphol- stered in grey and white, and like the whole of the vessel, lighted by electricity and warmed by steam pipes. On the cen- ter table stands the queen's cup, won by the Meteor at the receut royal yacht squadron regatta at Cows; and on another table the Couhty Down cup, won by the Meteor at the royal Ulster regatta in 1892. Above this saloon is the promenade deck, with the smoking -room on one end and the emperor's bridge on the other. The smoking -room is very comfortable, furnish- ed and lined with porcelain plaques, on which illustrations of German battles by sea and land are painted. On the upper deck is one of the emperor's working -rooms, furnished with a telephone. Hanging on the wall is the log book and on a shelf are some nautical books. Another workroom and a conference -room are on the middle deck, their walls being decorated with water -color sketches and photographs of t , the queen, the Empress of Germany and 't her children. The saloon,intended for familygatherings, is decorated in blue and silver and fitted with furniture of maple and a fireplace of marble and nickel. The empress' bedroom contains a bedstead of nickel, with a coun- terpane of red silk and hangings of gray satin. Adjoining the emperor's rooms aft are the apartments and the messroom of the imperial suite, while the officers' mess- room and cabins, fitted up with oak furni- ture, are situated forward. the kitchens on the deck below are splendidlx fitted up. The Hohenzollern is l 16 meters long, with -1 14 meters beam, her tonnage 2,400, displace- ment 4,200 tons and. power 20)000. f ADVENTURE WITH A BOA. An Extremely Unpleasant Encounter In a Ceylonese Garden, Hawtrey Thwaitea writer : —One incident that occurs to me is a little adventure I have had with a python, a snake of the Molurus tribe,iu my own garden in Colom- bc. One evening I was smoking on the veranda after dinner. It was a c'oudy night, but the air was perfectly still What seemed to be the branch of a tree was lying across the carriage drive, and as I noticed it I wondered how it could have fallen when not a breath of wind was stirring. It was perfectly motionless, and after a while 1 went down to throw it aside out of the path. But the moment I stooped over it the object seemed to melt away. Amazed and half doubting the evidenoe of my own eyes, I took a step in pursuit,but the instantaneous contraction of the whole body, ready for a spring, and the long, deep hiss that followed told me of the dan- ger I was in. Each staid without the movement of a muscle for about twenty seconds, and then the snake imperceptibly disappeared. One long sigh of relief and a dart into the house that beat the record for a twenty -yard sprint closed the proceed- ings for me that night. Had I by mistake laid the slightest touch upon the creature's body the probability is that within less than half a minute I should have been reduced to a shapeless lamp of pulp and broken bones. Rescue would have been impossible. Providence was merciful to me that night. Soon after we found that the python had taken up its abode in the garden, hat it had chosen its hiding plate so cunningly that there was no getting at it. One night a lady who was ill was lying awake in her room, and the room next to hers was oeoupied by my sister. The door between the 'two rooms was open, and suddenly the lady saw a large snake come in at the window, waving its head about in aearch of a place where it might alight. A moment later it fell, with a loud flop, on to the floor. Of course, it had disappeared by the time they had recovered from the shock and called for assistance. Brnshint Cloths A man who always looks well with but a limited wardrobe says: The finest clothing in the world won't make a ma u look well if his collar or cuffs are soiled. On the other hand, if the linen is clean and fresh, if the elothes are well brushed and if there is a flower in the button -hole one always looks presentable. But whisk brooms simply ruin clothes : you should have a. good bristle brush, • not too stiff. Then brush as often and as much as you like, and your clotnes will look the better and wear the better for it. This is of especial interest to women because they have to look out for the stock of clean linen and to often- pply the clothe brush. France is the only European country - hi th has to -day fewer able-bodied men an it had thirty years so:\ 4 • CI cver I3LS 1\icenee LY ..y0L1T s -v • rf: till ".1 *EW d In REPRE!3ii NW',i•etAI:11 Mercy PET' Ge Call azul Or call ar.j Dr. Wilfi Oi ANY t farm r Or any vrri Of a loan