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r r p ^ ^ By ANNIE &aaaaAAAJ^AAAAAAAAAiL^6^AAAA^ CHAPTER VIII. 10 Continued. suppose the outraged saint should Come some night, and, standing beside her bed, lay an icy, retributive hand upon her face? To meddle with these holy persons' beads, for aught she knows, may bo the mortal of crimes; and?"crime, or no crime, I will do it!" decides the girl, with the spasmodic coward's courage of her ^ex. Now, may fortune be her best friend; may no inmate of the ?: . house pass from floor to floor while the sacrilegious act is being carried ;r into effect. The cranky fastening of the glass door gives a groan as she opens it, causing Belinda's guilty conscience to quake again; but no ear save her ^own hears the sound. She unclasps the neg?-lace, shivering as her fingers " come in contact with, the clammy wax throat; then bears away her booty, ^her.legs trembling under her at ev . ery step upstairs, ste taKes it to me light of her solitary candle; admires I ii>-' its .mock effulgence; clasps it, trem jp' bling, around her little, warm, soft' neck; survey^herself on tiptoe in the tarnishe.d mirror above the chimneypiece; and where is conscience now, $-' where remorse? Admirable satiety," why is it that conscience and remorse hold their peace as long as the taste of the apple continues sweet bet tween our teeth? j'j I She surveys herself, well-nigh aw.e' j\ stricken by her own fairness. She feels that to be the possessor of real diamonds she would cheerfully become Mrs. Augustus Jones and start for Clapham to-morrow. Now nothing is wanting but a fan and lovers. Y The fan can be had; a huge gilt-andv black structure of the date of thirty years ago, which lies for ornament on the mantel-shelf; and of this Belinda 1 -D,.+ Wnrc9 possesses ueiaai. uui mo >vTv>t>. ;.1*Bah! some unimportant details are ?V bound to be wanting at every rehearv.*;sal! When the prologue is over, the play played out in earnest, the Iovers, it may be supposed, will come of themselves. She struts up and down the room, * r * her train outstretched, her fan in mo-V tlon, her eyes glancing complacently :'v' at the mignon little figure the glass "A gives her duskily back. "If Captain . Temple could see me ? if Captain I Temple could see me now?" thinks L vanity. "If he knew I could be anything but ragged, and hideous, and a I gamin. *, And if he did know this, >> what would Captain Temple care?" says another sterner voice than that fi-. of vanity. "Of what account 4s the ^yhole world to him by the side of [v.^ itose and Ross's beauty?" A sudden leaden weight sinks dead on; Eelinda's heart. She is nothing to'1 Roger Temple; holds no more ;V," place in his present than in his fu LjViture. She s^ems to stifle. The saint's paste diamonds must purely be very - heavy, so painful is the choking feel' -4nS in her throat. Turning abruptly away from the sight of her finery and * of herself, she extinguishes the candle;-then goes out bare-armed, barenecked, in her diamond necklace and , train, upon the balcony. It is now past midnight, and something like cooler air begins to stir across the sleeping country. Balmy sweet is the air; every floor of the vast old house has its balcony, every ' balcony its flowers; the sky is all a quiver with stars; mountains, river, plains, are lying in one great hush of purple sleep. Belinda's rests her arm against the iron balustrade, and, gazing away westward toward the rugged line of Spanish coast, muses: Spain or Clapham? She has learned much since she asked herself the same question this afternoon; unknowingly has passed the traditional brook, perhaps, where womanhood and childhood meet; for ery certain has accepted Mr. Jones, elected in cold blood for Clapham? Clapham, respectability, riches. And yet?and yet, if Maria Jose (or some one else) were to appear before her [ just now, and? I Click! click! goes the sharp sound Iof a vesuvian close, as it seems, beside Belinda's ear. She turns with a start, and there, on the adjoining balcony, stands Roger Temple. Roger may breakfast with Rose, but it would be the acme of indiscretion for him to lodge under the same roof I with her. Thus the widow, very j well versed in the fninutiae of surface morals, decides. And so?from ; Scylla to Charbydis?fate, and the j landlord of the Hotel Isabella to[ gether, have contrived to lodge him under the same roof with Belinda. The Maison Lohobiague has two flights of stairs, in these modern I times has indeed been converted into j two distinct houses, one of which is I- rented by the people of the Isabella I as a succursale, or wing for overflowing guests, duringthe bathing season. Belinda sees him, grasps the whole dramatic capabilities of the situation in a moment, but gives no sign. I have said that nature has endowed the child with abundant imitative talent; everyday association with the Basques, the most excitement seeking, play loving people in Europe, has stimulated the talent into a kind of passion. Now, she feels, is a magnificent opportunity for her to act, with | a purpose. A glance at Roger Temple's faca convinces her that he does net recognize Rose's vagrant, out-at^ elbows daughter under tlio disguise j of civilization. Now she will have at rare opportunity of arriving at a || truth or two; now she may even test the practical worth of a "lifelong fidelity," see if this devoted lover H cannot be led into a passing flirtaI tion?moonlight, loneliness, the cer tainty of the crime remaining uude1| tected, favoring. M With an unconsciousness the most B perfect she resumes h? r former atBa titude, and after a minute or two of silence sings, in that undertone for 1 ID HEROINE 1 w wl EDWARDS. the whisper of singing, a stanza of a mendicant student serenade, familiar from one end of the Peninsula to the other. She has a sweet, a sympathetic voice?in posse, like the beauty of her face; and melody and voice alike harmonize deliciously with every external accessory of the scene. "Brava, brava!" exclaims Roger, when she has finished. '"That first verse was so excellently sung that it makes me eager for the second." Belinda, thus uncermoniously accosted, turns upcn him in all the conscious virtue Oi a trained dress and paste necklace. "Senor!" she exclaims, holding up her head with dignity, and in such a position that the moon shines upon its soft young outline full. "I beg a thousand pardons," says ( Rnsrpr. nuttinsr his nine hastily out of sight. "But the senora's song was j so charming that I forgot that we had i no master of ceremonies to introduce us. Has it not a second verse?" ? "My song has a second and a third verse," replies Belinda, in English, j strongly flavored with Castilian gut- ^ terals. "I lust acquaint his lordship, r however, that I beiieved myseli to be j alone. I never sing for the pleasure ? of strangers except when I am on the , stage." j "The stage!" repeats Roger Tem- \ pie, -scrutiUzing the girlish face and figure critically. "Why, is it possi- j Ible?" t "I have acted as long as I can re- a member," says Belinda, with all the i effrontery conceivable. "If his Eng- ( lish excellency has traveled through any of the principal Spanish towns, j he must have heard me." r "When the senora favors me with y her name I shall be able to question j my memory more accurately," an- i, swers Roger. Belinda pauses-for a minute or j two: then, "My name on the stage is >] Largimas," she tells him, "or as you say it in English, 'Tears.' Doleful, } is it not? But I do not wish it r changed. Who would not sooner be called Tears than Laughter?" t She sighs, and, half turning from him, rests her cheek down upon the r graceful bare arms .that lie folded on f the balcony. Seen thus in the moon- f light, her bright hair falling around s her shoulders, her childish face grown f pensive, she seems to Roger as fair a little creature as ever blessed man's ? vision in this prosaic world; and his ? pulse quickens. The balconies are ^ distant aoout rour or nve ieet irom s each other. Leaning across the giddy intervening space, two persons of 0 steady nerves might easily clasp c hands, or at least touch fingers, if j they so minded. They are alone to- t gether, he and this girl, absolutely t alone, as were the first pair of lovers ^ in Eden; and yet impassively divided, as their lives are destined in very fact t to be for ever more. And Roger's c pulse quickens. "Your philosophy is beyond your years, senora. Surely nothing should j seem as laughter in one's youth." "Youth!" echoes Belinda, raising her head quickly, and forgetting .the Spanish accent and her assumed char- v acter together. "What have I to do with youth, sir? When was I young? r Why, from the time I was'thirteen?" And there her eyes met Roger's full, full in the moonlight. She stops, and droops her face, crimsoning. "Plenty of hard training has come to me in my life, senor," she goes on after a space, but without lifting her eyes again to his. "Sometimes I feel ^ a little top keenly how well my name Lagrimas fits me. But why should 1 talk of such things to-night! You know my country, Spain?" turning to him with the most irresistible of ^ all coquetry, the coquery of ignorance. "No? Well, you should run I down there some day, now that you are so near.' I will be your guide If you choose." "Done," says Roger gayly. "It is a -a bargain that we take a Spanish tour e together, Senora Lagrimas, is it not?" f "I don't think I said anything t about 'together,' did I? But never mind that. Yes, we can go down to Granada, first if you like. It will take us about a week to soj the Alhambra, and then?but is his excel- . lency quite sure," pointedly, "that his time is his own, that his friends will ^ give him leave of absence?" ^ "Oh, no question of that," says j. Roger, with the airy assurance of an unfettered man. "The doubt is rath- , er will the Senora Lagrimas keep her ? promise?" \ "I mentioned your friends, senor, j because I know that you are not alone , here. You may not have noticed me, | but I certainly saw you to-night at . the Casino with ladies." Roger Temple looks the very pic ture of innocence. "At the Casino?" , he repeats. "With ladies? Ah, to be c sure, I believe I did speak to some ^ English acquaintances c? mine for a few minutes." ^ "There is an ugly little girl for one; , a girl very sunburnt, very v''-dressed; ' you danced a waltz with her, and another lady not so young. Your mamma, probably, senor?" "Stepmamma," assents Roger unblushingly, "and the stopmamnia also of the little sunburnt girl with whom I danced." "Consequently you a*id the girl are ?are?" "Ah, that is a knotty point, the precise relationship between thai ... 1 _ .1 .. 1 T -..111 vw%f o 1 yuuug lauy ami luvscu. i win nui, c-.ilow you to call her ugly, though, 1 Senora Lagrirnas. Sunburnt slio is; ' ill-dressed she may be; ugly, never."' ' "Well, for my part, I do not see a 1 good feature in the young person's ' 1 face," says "Lagrirnas," with a conI temptuous shrug of her shoulders, j ' A skin like a gypsy's, a wide mouth, a low forehead'." j i i "Magnificent eyes and eyelashes, i i ! teeth like Ivory, graceful little hands 1 / vlien she chooses to smile, In the vorld." "I should think her a vile temper, Thcy wdging by her expression; and as to ler manners! 1 have been here some imp Kf-nnr T know the eirl by sisht, ? md by reputation. She plays boys' I |n (jg james with boys; robs hen-roosts j [0 ^ ifter dusk, with that dog of hers; | ^earl she t^'.ks?swears, some people will i Kjair ell you?like a gamin cf the streets, (n 0j md?" (n e> "And for each and all of these oklal small oddities I like her the better," ^iodc nterrupts Roger v.armly. "Belinda Sp0l s just the kind of girl to grow into liave :he most charming of women, in xvent ime." to th "A charming woman! After the const pattern of the other lady who is not Wasl ;o young, her stepmamma?" Th "No, not after that pattern precise- hoim y, senora. Your vast experience blooc nust have taught you surely that troor here are more kinds of charming were vomen in the world than one. Be- They inda has been neg?allowed to run a excei ittle too wild uitherto; but circum- sent stances, I am happy to say, will place Whe: ler under my guidance now." I there "Will they?will they, indeed, Cap- worn .ain Temple?" interpolates Belinda whor nentally. "We shall see more about them hat by and by." Scari "fihA will livfi in mv house, will and i stand to me in the position of a Baxt laughter, and I mean to reform her." by ol "Ah, heavens, how praiseworthy! cut <3 -low Christian! Reform Belinda? rema With the aid of a prim English gov- have irness and a staff of attendant pastors In ind masters, of course?" from "Well, no," answers Roger. "I tcred lave no great belief in prim English these governesses, neither are pastors or math nasters very much more to my taste. I hate . shall reform Belinda, as much as j ganc >he needs reforming, by kindness j Okla ilone. It strikes me that what the j Calif loor little girl wants is not sternness, their >ut love." Belinda turns her head c.way with coun i jerk; her throat swells, the big grass ears rise in her eyes. If he had said j catcl inything but this, if he had called j Tfc ler ugly, wicked, any hard name he and :liose, she could have borne it better, stole "Belinda should be extremely haun grateful for your?your pity," she eral emarks, as soon as she can command go b; ler voice enough to speak. "For my fight >art, I don't in the least value that acces :ind of regard." was "No? And what kind of regard do comr ou value, may I ask?" says Roger abou Temple, his tone softening. the I "Ah?what kind? When I have way cnown you a little longer than ten coun ninutes I will tell you." Nc "The day we visit the Alhambra assei ogether, for instance?" that "Perhaps. Meantime, In Belinda's jack lame, I thank you a thousand times advis or the pity you are charitable enough by's o bestow upon her. Goodnight, stole enor. I leave you to think over your Comi ine projects of reformation alone." body And with a mocking reverence "La- the < jrimas" salutes him; then, assuming q/h he air of a princess at least, and put z vith a grand sweep of her rustling and ilken train, leaves thev balcony. an(j ( She quits him, I say, with the air ber if a princess; the moment she is out jim, if sight, turns, peeps through a rent jim n the dilapidated Venetian blind, lis- Oreg ens with eager, breathless curiosity ' Thor o find out what Roger Temple will j forni lo next. j Terri Captain Temple for a minute or : Spom wo keeps silence. Then "Senora, j Jenora Lagrimas," he cries softly. But no answer comes to his appeal, j Ac "Only one word?do you live here? ! mer s there any chance of my seeing you ! at a igain to-morrow night?" j fined Belinda is mute as fate. | the t "I shall listen for ybur voice to- i jn vard 11 o'clock. If you do not take stok lity on me I shall remain out here all , wher tight, remember, heartbroken." I twen "So much for all engaged men, inre ay," thinks Belinda. "Ob, if I was an(j eally wicked?if I was half as bad jn C; is they give me credit for?could we hairc lot have a comedy in earnest out of yar(j .11 this?" j So She retreats toward the middie of jn tl he room, and, under her voice, sings msn| mother verse of the serenade. j 3iCk Then she steals back to the window be C? o listen; her heart beating till she "i :an hear its beats, her very finger- ing]ji ips tingling with excitement, so car- a ]e, ied away is she by this ro'e of temp- thro^ ress that she is playing?the fascin- 'Totl ting'role (save one, perhaps) of the stcac vhole little repertoryof woman's life! jf j "The balconies are not very far af0rt :part, senora," remarks I^oger pres- ?<j intly. "It would be quite possible bro]c or a desperate man to leap from one <'( o the other." i the 1 To be Continued. I ^ad *" ? she Missim; Islands. ' jes> ^ It is reported that the Nimrod, the p0nc] itout little ship Miat carried Lieuten- grap irt Shackleton and his men to Antarica, has accepted a commission that vill lengthen her homeward voyage ^ jy a few weeks. She is going to . ;earch for some missing islands. They . tre on the map, but whether they are 7""", ictually iu existence is very doubtful. e e SG6 V group bearing her own name?the S'imrods?was searched for in 1851 an md could not be found. Another, *u 1 he Emerald?not our Hibernian sis- ?ou IIP t ;er?has not been seen siuce IS41, vhen it was dcscribcd as posssssing es 'lofty, high peaked mountains." 'Dougherty Island" has not been sighted for half a century. Possibly tlle^ lie convivial mariners of a bygone c^n ' jenerauon, surveying the horizon | 1 hrough capacious tumblers, occasion- xe illy fancied they saw islands as well 111011 is sea serpentu.?London Chronicle. , 1,r>(L _J | of E oget A Long Pipe. yQU The longest pipe in the world is hat which extends from the Okla-' loma oil wells to New York harbor. < y] \t the present time the oil field of ' isst Oklahoma is the most active in the anm United States. It is net likely that divic he linn will bo put to Immediate use have or conveying oil over the whole dis- that .ance. The completion of the system in V s regarded rather as a provision for mac jmergency, ana lo meet iue iuluiu vuiu conditions, when tlie Pennsylvania men and West Virginia fields shall have dust jeen depleted.?Scientific American. Net Counted. *"] There are 30.000 reformed spellers *D ^ a the United States. This does not uclude those who have their own prl- ??tii /ate system of spelling.?Washington ^asi MODOCS' EXILE EXDED. | Return Not to the Lavit Beds of j California. "But to Oregon, e Modoc Indians in Oklahoma j. !,? Ini:<i liorlq oing nomi;?uul lu ...? . liforhia, whence they were taken le Quapaw Indian Reservation ( y forty years ago, but to the j ia(h Reservation of the Modocs I egon. where they will get lands , ichange for their allotments in | tioma. It is a peculiarity of the >c that he desires to die on the ! where he was born. The Modocs ! been homesick ever since they to Oklahoma, and their return e Northwest is the result of their ant appeal to the authorities at lington. e remova; of the Modocs to Oklai followed their defeat after their ly campaign against Government >s in the lava beds, where they commarded by Captain Jack, assassinated and butchered all )t two of the peace commission to them ty'the Secretary of War. n the Mo3ocs reached Oklahoma ; were thirty-nine men, fifty-four en and sixty children, many of n were sorely wounded. Among were such notable leaders as :'aced Charley, Steamboat Frank Shacknas.y Jim. Their arrival in er Springs is well remembered d citizens. Age and disease have J oivfv [own tne iuoaocs um.u umjin. Nearly all their old leaders died. going to the Klamath country, which they fled when they en[ the lava beds of California, ; Modocs will be among the Klai Modocs, whom they thoroughly aud despise because of the arroe of the Klamath band. The homa Modocs were moved from ornia to Oregon, only to have Oregon kinsmen say to them: ou can stay here, but it is our try. Your horses can eat the 5, but it is our grass. You can i fish, but they are our fish." lis was more than Captain Jack his people could bear, and .the\ away and returned to their ol. ts in California. "When the FedGovernment tried to make them ack to Oregon the Modocs began ing, and sought refuge in the inisible lava beds. A commission sent to treat with them. The nission established Its camp t two miles from the retreat of rtodocs in the lava beds and midwas pitched a tent at which the cil should be held. > sooner had the commissioners nbled in the tent than they found death was at hand. Captain suddenly shot General Canby, ser of the commissioners. Canthroat was cut and his uniform n. The Re.v. Eleazer Thomas, a nissioner, also was slain and his robbed and mutilated. Two of commissioners escaped. e United States Government then l large body of troops In the field, the Modocs were pursued night lay until they surrendered. Octo2, 1S7:{, Captain Jack, Black Boston Charley and Schronchin were hanged at Fort Klamath, on, for the murder of Canby and nas. Soon afterward the Calia Modocs were taken to Indian itory.?Baxter Springs Corredencs, Kansas City Times. Vanity. :cording to a story told by forGovernor Stokes of New Jersey reccnt banquet, vanity is not concxclusively to ths female sex of mman snecies. a small town over in Jersey, Mr. es said, there is a corner grocery e you nay buy anything from a ty-foot ladder to a pearl neckAdhesive plaster, sauerkraut toilet articles are also sold, and ise of necessity you may get a :ut or c. horse shod in the back me time since a farmer stopped le store to get some horse lini; to rub the rheumatism out of a cow, and t.wo or three days later ime back with a life-sized kick, iook here, Abner," he complainr remarked, "I wish ye would be 2tle mite more keerful how ye tv yerself back o' the counter, ler day ye give me cologne in1 o' hoss liniment, and gosh-dast didn't put it on thet sick sow ; I found out what it was." f- rHn*t hurt her any. did it?" e in the groceryman. Jan't se.y thet it did," answered farmer, "but ever sence she has thet sweet smellin' stuff 011 her hain'.t done a derned thing but look at her reflection in ther duck [ an" sigh."?Philadelphia Telch. Sankcy's Story. story, told by the late Ira D. Sanon himself, has been revived ! the evangelist's death. One day otered a Swiss shop and asked to some music boxes. The salesgraciously showed him a number aone wis what he wanted. "Have none "bat play sacred music?'lsked. "Why," answered the .man, "we have some that play a of a half-way sacred music." at?" inquired Mr. Sankey. "Oh, ? Moody and Sankey hymns; 1 1. a n'Uof * V?/-? t\nni^lA i 1 1 L 1 illtl j,IIIC WlirtL **. i, but we sell thousands of the s that play them. Wc have cnor." s orders for these bo::es," contintlie salesman, "from every part 11 rope,' and then he added, apolicaliy, "It's a matter of business, know, with us." Gold Output. Te Wcstralian gold output from > to the end of May, 1909 tinted to ]9.r>04,09r? ounces, and lands amounting to $87,-'JIG,040 ! been paid to stockholders in period. There are 4000 stamps Western Australia in use and the hinery employed at the mines is ed at $20,000,000. Over 20,000 are employed in the mining inry. Fido's Portion. Did 3'ou givp the scraps of meal )0 dog, Xorah?" foil forgot, muin. that we'd quit 1' meat, mum. hut Oi give th' o th' carrot to; s an' periaty par"?Los Angelos Express. mmmmmwama What One States Does for Roads. J Just before his departure for Paris to attend the International Conference of Road Builders, Samuel Hill, of Seattle, Wash., president of the Washington Gopd Roads Association, told an interviewer in New York: "The building of good roads is the | most important question that con- j fronts the American people to-day. i Every man, woman and child must | use the highways at some time, | whether afoot, on horseback, in a road wagon or in automobiles." Mr. Hill, who has spent much of his time and money in the work of public road improvement, is one of three delegates the State of Washington has sent to this international ; roads conference to get information i and ideas that will prove of value in I the important work which the State j is doing. j Not only has Washington put her I convicts on the roads and had them there for some years nov/, out sne nas | established a chair of good roads in [ her State university, the first institution in the country tp provide such a course, and Samuel C. Lancester, pro' fcssor of goods roads in the Washing ' ton University, is one of the three j delegates to tho Paris conference. The other is R. H. Thompson, City Engineer of Seattle. With 125 students last year and 200 at the beginning of the present term, the good roads department of the Washington University is one of the most popular in the institution, i ! It not only educates young men in this important work, but serves as a bureau for the dissemination of valu- j able Information relating to construc- | tion and maintenance of public high- I ways. Some of the things Mr. Hill said ' I in his interview, published in the ! | New York Heraia, win ue uj. pmuvu; lar interest and value in Georgia just | at this time, when the State is about to enter upon the era of substantial progress which good road building involves. Discussing the tremendous aggregate cost of bad roads to the farmers and, 1n a general way, the work now being done in his State, Mr. Hill said: "When I became interested actively in the subject about four years ago I made up my mind that I would ascertain just what it cost one of our farmers to haul along the roads for one mile garden truck and other material weighing one ton. For on the farmer principally falls the burden of our bad roads. I learned that beI cause of the poor roads the United | States lost, with the setting of the j sun every day, nearly $3,000,000, j which might be saved were the roads j in proper condition. Just think of i that! And yet not a cent has come I from the federal administration for the betterment of these roads. Some States, as Washington and a fewothers, have appropriations, but not in proportion to the calling necessity. Then we*began to get busy in our State of Washington. "We put the convicts at work and we found the process was a great success. Each convict netted to the State |4.03 for each day of work, which amounted to something. And not one convict turned out to this task tried to escape. North Carolina led in this system of convict labor, and that was fifteen years ago, and now it has eighteen hundred miles oI macadamized roads built by convict labor, asd only two per cent, of the j men employed in this way tried to escape. In Washington the majority i of our roads are constructed over j mountains and at a maximum grade of five per cent. This convict labor . | did not interfere with union labor, I either, for with the construction of j the roads there was more work for the union men in other, branches of the task. "Let me tell you of our method in Washington. We build our roads usually about one hundred feet wide. in fho mirMlo a Stril) i I X1 11211, >v?3 iiarg iu ? F about sixteen feet wide. On the bottom we take from the screen cubes /of rock about two and a half inches. This rock is put down wet, and a tenton steam roller goes over it from the j sides, to make it cement and rise high in the middle. Then comes rock one-half the size of the other, and then the rock three-quarter inch cubes. Over this is poured tar, melt- ( ed to about ISO to 200 degrees Fahrenheit, and over all this is thrown the fine pebbles. Then the steam roller gets to work again. Parallel .to this strip we make a path of light material, designed for horses and vehicles; alongside that comes a bridle path, for equestrians only, and then comes another strip of grassy lawn, I with flowers and trees. We maintain | that strip in all strictness." J There are suggestions and informaj tion here worth considering. They come from a man who is well quali- j fied to speak and who has seen and j I actively participated in the work in I ! his own State similar to that which j Georgia now has to do.?Atlanta Constitution. The Eternal Feminine. Queen Elizabeth, in a cliaracteris- j tic rage, had proclaimed the doom of i " "Mth l!io hfVlfl ' " I lilt: cumuli. y->iL nii.ii , The culprit courtier was heard to ! mutter something to himself. "What said liic caitiff?" demanded j Elizabeth. ".May it. please Your Majesty," faltered one ol' the guards, "bis words ( were: 'Pretty rough. It is becom- j int??' " The virgin Queen plumed herself; hC'r eyes sought her mirror. "Ha! Pretty ruff! Truly, the fellow hath good taste, and it were a i pity? Let sentence be suspended. We have need of men of good judgment. and sound discretion about us. T will hear further what lie may huvo to say."?Harper's Monthly. The wife of a farm laborer near ' JL'xetei* has given birth to her twenty' second child. All the family are alive ; I and well. The Hen as an Asset oi the Suburban Home By M. ROBERTS CONOVER. a c ^ a ^ c In her relation to the average suburban home, the hen must be considered merely in the capacity of an egg-producer. For breeding purposes a larger extent of ground is necessary than can be spared from a small plot. A flock of six or eight hens will, with little extra food, subsist upon the kitchen waste of a small family of four people who endeavor to live within the ordinary bounds of economy, and for this consumption of othewise waste material will yield satisfactory returns in eggs. This kitchen waste usually consists of fruit and vegetable parings, bones (which must be crushed), occasional scraps of meat, odds and ends of cereal or stale bread, crushed eggshell, etc., and this diet is sufficiently varied to keep the fowls in healthy laying condition. This fare may be occasionally augmented by grain or meat scraps from the butcher's, such additions being used to balance in qualities of the regular diet. For successful results with, poultry in limited space, the breed is an important question. Leghorns and Monorcas are excellent layers of fine large eggs, and are among the best for the suburban dweller who wants regular contributions to his table. Th cockerel may be dispensed with, a3 it is better to buy young pullets in condition to lay, when the first set becomes too old for the best production, rather than to breed chickens in small quarters. A convenient coop for housing sit or eight of these hens is six feet long, four feet wide and four and one-half feet higb. This gives room for nests and for a feeding place in stormy weather. Su<;h a house, if made with a peaked roof, should have its longest slant toward the south, with a window set in to admit sunlight. Tarred paper makes a warm, durable covering for the roof. The perches are round poles, about two inches in diameter, arranged ladder-fashion toward the back of the coop, the lowest being two feet from the floor. These are held in place by cleats at the ends so that they may be removed frewoe'rtOrl with IrdrnCOTIP qurunj auu naouv^u whH-^wash or some other insecticide. I ix containing dry sand in which is one tablespoonful of flour of sulphur, for the dust bath, and boxes of shell and grit should be convenient for the hens. The nests are of easier access if arranged at the rear below the roosts and protected by a drop-board. The eggs are gathered by raising the hinged sections. A few tobacco leaves among the straw in the nests will prevent lice. But a vital consideration is room for exercise upon ground which is kept sanitary, for unhealthy conditions will decrease the productiveness of a flock of l'owls just as it impairs their health. With poultry wire five and one-half feet high, construct three parallel runs fifteen feet long and four feet wide, one directly in front of the coop, the other two extending beyond either side. Sow one with clover, another with oats and the third with rye. When one crop has attained a height of three or four inches, the hens are turned into the pen and allowed to use it for two or three weeks. At the end of that time another pen is assigned them and the first resown. At the end of three more weeks the second pen is unfit for further use and the fov^Is are passed on to the third, the second being resown. In the meantime the first pen is again fresh with tender verdure for the reception of the flock when the third pen has become a barren waste. This method allows a thorough purification of the soil in nature's own way, and prevents disease. A little chickweed sown with the oats or clover is relished by the fowls.?From House and Garden. Xight Skies as Inspiration. The suns and constellations of tne glorious galaxy sparkle and scintillate gloriously upon us. The domain of this glorious galaxy is situated at present in the south and southeast and extends from brilliant Capella, near the zenith, to more brilliant Sirius, toward the horizon. Queen Capella sparkles near the top of the constellation Auriga, while below her twinkle the inseparable Twins in Gemini, gleams the ruddy eye of Aldebaran iu Taurus and glimmers the hazy group of the Pleiades. Below Gemini and Taurus glows the wnvovJncr ciin Ref.plereny and snflrkles brilliant Rigel in the famous and ancient constellation of Orion, and between Eetelgeux and Rigel twinkle the three "belt stars." Eastward of Orion glitters the lonely gem Procyon in Canis Minor, and, lowest of all, scintillates that incomparable jewel, King Sirius, in Canis Major. Six suns and six constellations?and the greatest of these are Sirius and Orion, Sirius like a living, fiery sky diamond. Orion sparkling in the firmament like a gigantic fragment of sidereal jewelry.?Communication in New York Tribune. Once Respectable. "Bushranger," once a respectable term, has now sunk to the lowest depths. In the early Australian newspapers such advertisements aa "Wanted, a good bushranger," were quite common. The word then was synonymous with "bushman," one skilled in knowledge and experience of hush life. But now a "good bushranger" would he as ridiculous as an honest burglar, for a bushranger is the superlatively bad man of the antipodes?a hank robber, a despoiler of gold escorts and mail" coaches and the terror of the countryside. The Main DilFcrcnce. "Papa," asks the little boy, "how do- men and women pick out the haUi that, will he most becoming to them?" "A man. my son." explains the fond father, "selects his hat by the size, and a woman chooses hers by the price."?Chicago Evening Post. With the Funnyi ! gf> i | In the Meat Line. The butcher sat in his lonely shop, ! His cleaver and saw were still, The packing houses were all shut down, There was nothing there to kill. The cattle, hogs and sheep ran loose On the Western plain and farm. For life to them was a grand sweet song, With nobody near to harm. The herds went wandering o'er the lea In the twilight and the dawn, With never a thought of future things, For the meat boycott was on. ?W. J. Lampton. in New York Tribune^ No Joke. i i "If an old maid cays 'No' when hq proposes, is she playing the co quette?" y'\ . "No, she's playing the fool."?? ! Cleveland Leader. Very Likely. Patience?"What is she doing with! all the alimony she's getting?" I Patrice?"Oh, she's saving It scf i sue call support aoouer uusuauu. ?> Yonkers Statesman. Taking a Chance on Him. "What was you askin" for the widder's bonnet, mum?" I "Well?er?I thought ^Heronce."* " 'E's very ill, mum; I think I'll risk it."?The Tatler. | Out of the Frying Pan. Beacon?"So Henn-Peck wants to go to Congress, does he?" ' Hill?"Said he'd he willing to go most anywhere to get away from home a while."?Boston Herald. Lucky Dog. j "Here's a remarkable gold coin I | want to show you, old man." j "Eh!" This is an ordinary halfeagle. What's remarkable about it?* j "It belongs to me."?Boston Tran: script: Precious. ! Marks?"Why in the world did yoa J put your lunch in the safe?" ; Parks?"S-sh! Keep it quiet, oldP ! man; but that unpretentious hjdking little package contains a boiled egg." ?Boston Transcript. ? i Appreciation. 1 j "Father,' 'said little Rollo, "was ; George Washington a greater man than Santa Claus?" [ "I won't say, my son, that Be waa ! greater, but he has proved much less expensive."?Washington Star. i< Heard on a Street Car. , , "Forgot to wind my alarm last night." "And so overslept yourself, eh?" ! "No, sir. Would you believe it, the surprise of not hearing it go off woke j me quick as a wink?"?Boston Tran! script. t , The Margin That Saved Him. "Vnii nwn an automobile. I sup pose?" "No; I would like to, but I've aU | ways been just a little too poor." I "Just a little too^poor? Man, you don't appreciate how lucky you are." I ?Boston Transcript. , , The Reformer Speaks. ? I Hank Stubbs?"I never could see i any sense in that expression, 'Six oil j one and half a dozen o? the other.' " Bige Miller ? "How would you 1 j have it?" , j Hank Stubbs?"Why, 'Six of each,* j of course."?Boston Herald. Did He Get It? | A sailor had just shown a lady ovetf I the ship. In thanking him she said:) "I am sorry to see by the rules that ' tiDS are forbidden on your ship." I "Lor' bless you, ma'am," replied the sailor; "so were apples in thai i Garden of Eden."?Everybody's. | Up to Him. j "See here," asked the 'cautions i stranger, "If I decide to stay here | for a week how much is it going to ! cost me?" "You can answer that best your[ self!" replied the clerk of the Florida hotel. "How much have you got?" | ?Catholic Standard and Times. A Wrestler. "Have you no occupation, my * ' man?" asked the iady at the kitcheni j door. ^ "Yes'm," replied the tramp; "I'm a | wrestler." j "A wrestler?" "Yes'm; I wrestle with poverty^ ! mum!"?Yonkers Statesman. I ' Or Move to Philadelphia. "Dinglcy is awfully out of sort? j since the Administration turned him I down." ( "What docs he say about it?0 I ' He says he wishes the waters of i " oblivion could roll over him." "Then why doesn't he run for Vice* President?"?Cleveland Plain Dealer. s critical .?uiui;ixi iiuuu;. j Mrs. Newbride?"John, dear, why are some grocers called green grocers and some not?" Mr. Newbride (feeling that he musf maintain his reputation for knowledge at any cost)?"Er?the green grocers, darling, are the inexperienced who start in by selling on credit."? Boston Transcript. The Xcw 11 a by. Teacher?"I shall not keep you after school. Johnnie. You may go home now." Johnnie ? "I don't want ter go home. There's a baby just come to : our house." Teacher?"You ought to be glad, Johnnie. A dear little baby? Johnnie (vehemently)?"I ain't glad! Pa'I! blame me?he blames me for everything."?Lippincott's.