Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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msmok A Tale of English Life, BY WALTEB BESANT , CBAPTSB J. UT ErST*R OH I XT RZSTER. On a fine Saturday evening In July there are never many readers in the Free library. The old men who come id Winter, because the place is warm and light and quiet, are now walking up and down the pavement, where the sunshine warms them through and through and ohases away their rheumatic pains. The younger men are all afield, playing orieket, boating, cycling, rambling afoot, thinking of nothing but the delights ol fresh air, and rejoicing in their youth. What have the young to do with a musty, dusty library on a summer evening? A library is a cemetery. Books are mostly the tombs of dead men's brains. Young folk are much better ocoupied with reading each other's thoughts than with walking among the tombs, so that the library iB almost! ampty. It was about seven o'clock. At the window into which the sun would have poured its wealth of heat and lipht?: which it gives to the tombs of the dead as well as to the fields and flowers of the living?a brown' blind was hauled down, leaving a long, narrow line. The sun, pertinacious in its attempt to reach everything, took advantage of the line to make a thin plate or lamina of bright sunshine, across wmcn tne merry uuute? danced with their usual cheerfulness. There was a smell of leather bindings; the tables were covered with magazines and papers; a few readers sat at the tables. But I think that knowledge was not greatly advanced. One or two of them Bleptj one or two looked as if their thoughts were elsewhere ? with the "brook babbling over the shallows, with the village cronies gathered under the lean-to beside the ale-house. One of them, gaunt, hollow-eyed, hungry, sat with an illustrated paper before him. But he never turned over a leaf, and he looked not at the pictures. The librarian watched that man suspiciously. He did not like the look in that man's eyes. It meant rebellion; it meant a wicked spirit of discontent with the social order which left him starving while it made his neighbor fat, and refused him work while it suffered his neighbor to live in comfort on the work of other men. Only a year or two ago?or it might be ten. because to oni who is a librarian years have no significance in connection with numbers?a man bad come into the ?lace with just such a look in his eyes, 'hat man asked for a book, sat down, and proceeded to tear away its bindings and to wrench its sheets asunder. Then he gave himself np to the librarian with the greatest gentleness and politeness, explaining that liberty without a crust was really a mockery, and that in future he meant to be maintained by his country, and that when he had served his time for the destruction of the' book, he meant to 6mash a lamp, and, .that atoned for, to steal a stretcher from a Slice station, and so on, getting oerps longer sentences, until he should l>e called to his reward. They walked off together to the nearest police station like two old friends, and parted with a hearty grasp after the sergeant had noted the case. \ Another map there was -whom the librarian regarded -with eyes of compassion. He dragged himself slowly and wearily up the stairs, threw himself opon a seat next the wall, and there-> fore provided with a back, took up 9 paper, sighed, and instantly fell fast asleep., This sort the librarian kne\i very well?he was the clerk out of work TUB LIBRAH1AK RAT IN HIS CORNKR. He fell asleep because he was exhausted with want of food, and with climbing the stairs in the city seeking for work. The librarian wondered how much longer the weary quest would continue. The man was clearly well on tne aowni ward elope; bis next placo would be lower; his next lower still. With adversity arrives too often moral weakening?it is one of the countless ills which follow in misfortune's train; perhaps this poor wretch would take to drink? many of tbem do; in the end, a clean bed in the London Hospital, with pneumonia drawing him swiftly to an ignoble grave. The librarian sat in his corner, a many pigeon-holed cabinet against the wail at his side, a great book before him?no librarian is complete without a great book before him?and the usual materials for cataloguing on his desk, because to carry on the catalogue is as necessary a part of the daily work as to open the day's letters is for a secretary. He was a man of 60, or perhaps more, his beard white, and his gray hair scanty on the top. He wore spectacles, and his face showed the clear, unlined surface of one who has never been concerned with markets, prices, or the state of trade. He lived all day in the library, and in the evening1 he" walked home to his solitary lodging, two miles way. inc iiUiauaiJ \jx ib ix w Jiuiu.iv #io .familiar with every kind ol reader. He classifies them all. There are first the unemployed, the most numerous patrons of the free library. The librarian gets to know the trade of every man, if he belongs to one of the commoner branches of work, by hi6 appcarance. There are the quiet men who use the library in the evening, when their mates are in the public-house drinking, or at the club wrangling or perhaps gambling. They oome here not to pursue a line of study, but to amuse themselves in peace. Then In any libraiy there are one or two babitnes o! tne day time. Mostly they are retired tradesmen, or old pensioners, "who continue to live In the looairty Vhere they have friends. There i6 the young feilow who comes regularly to ?nn?olt all the naners on sporting mat tera. Ho collects the prophetic tips, and notes the odds in a book; he would fain be a Sharp, but he, too often, remains o Juirgins. There is the boy who co?iet here whenever he can get the chance tc e.U in a corner and dream away the time deliciously over a story. There is the poor country lad who has more knowledge in his little finger than a Londor artisan in hie whole body, who understands how to plow and sow and reap, #nd stack and thresh; who can cultivate ' on allotment; -who Knows sheep beasts, and pigs and horses; who foretell the weather. Yet he has thr< it all over and'come up to London, wl he has nothing but his pair of hands 1 his strong arms, and his great knc edge avails him nothing. 'Tisas'if turned a professor of mathematics i a draper's shop, where they would him for nothing but to sweep the fl ? and carry out the parcels. He rolle to the library accidentally, and not ing 1he place or the smell (which is in the least like the smell of the eari he goes out again. The librarian knows them all. watches in the silent room as the cl over his head ticks loudly, and ma up their little stories for them. Soi ffimes they whisper a little with h He is a sympathetic creature, and tl will confide their case to him asking his advice. They do not seek it in search for a book to read, but in sea fnr work. And sometimes he kno or has heard things, which may 1 them. Other librarians, you see, g< vast and intimate acquaintance v books. This librarian is more usefu his readers if he knows the content! the trade journals. Sometimes, however, as in the c of Naomi Hellyer, he was altogethe: sea. Naomi first appeared on t Saturday evening. She came in timi< and looked about her with hesitati There was no other woman in the pl? Perhaps women were not admitl Then the librarian stepped out of corner and invited her to take a s and ask for anything she might wanl He saw a woman of thirty dressec the black stuff frock of a workwom with a cloth jacket, though it was warm an evening. Her dress was i fectlv neat and well-fitting; her glo were worn; 6he had the appearance resolute respectability coupled v Bmall pay. Her face was thin and pi nnd her features delicate. She was : beautiful, but she looked steady t serious?what is called responsible. 1 librarian noticed these things; he a noticed, for he was an observant cr ture, as well as sympathetic, that th was trouble in the face?abiding troul When she took off her worn glove librarian saw upon her forefinger usual 'sign of needlework, which a 1 man can no more disguise than a mula can disguise the black streaks below finger-nails. She took a place at on< the tables and began to. turn over leaves of an illustrated paper, but 1; guidly, as if she took no interest in w she read. The librarian, watching from his corner, observed that she pr ently put down the paper and began walk about, reading the titles on books on the shelves as if she was search of something. Being a conscientious librarian well as observant and sympathetic, left his place in the corner and as! her if there were any work which i wished to read. She shook her he There was nothing, Bhe said. 1 librarian observed that she had an tremely sweet voice. He also obser that she went looking at the titles as she really did want something. The librarian was experienced well as conscientious, observant, ; sympathetic. He discovered that th was someuung oenma tais resuess ?i osity. -I think you are looking for so book," he said.' "If you will tell what it is " "Have you got," she asked, colon' deeply, "any book that tells about? She hesitated. "About?" he repeated. "About women15?here she lool about to make sure that nobody e cojild hear, and her voice dropped t< whisper?"about women in prison, h they are treated, and how they live?" "We have a book called 'Five Years Fenal Servitude,' " he replied, "bnt tl is about male convicts, not women." "May I see that?" He found and gave her the volume. When the library closed she brouj him back the book, and went awt But her eyes were red. ?he bad be crying. During the week the librarian fou himself thinking a good deal about t woman. She looked refined and d< cate, perhaps above the position ? now held, which seemed to be poo paid, judging from her dress. By 1 language and her manner 6he sho^ berseir wnat ib cauca iaayiiKe or wi ladies prefer to call rather a super person. He could not remember whetl she wore a weddincc ring. He hoj that she would come again. On Saturday evening she did co: > again. The librarian greeted her w the smile reserved for habitual reade "Let me find you another book," he sa "Please let me have the same"?as the librarian should remember ev< book taken up by everv reader. But did remember her book and gave it her. She finished the book that evenii But long after she closed the volu the sat with it in her hand, -thinkii "She was in a corner where there w< no other readers. But the librarl could see her. And from time to ti the tears rose to her eyes and ran do her cheeks. He wondered what vi meant by this grief, what misera! story lay behind. She was the last to leave tho libra: The other readers had ali gone, h an hour before the time for closing, 1 she sat there motionless, th'nkinc, ci ing silently, and the librarian made p; tense not to see her. When the clock struck ten he loci the room and went oi?.t, a few mlnu after her. His mind was quite full her distress, as he walked along 1 street*, new growing cool In the J\ iwuigai. Presently he eaw before Mm, gol the same way, his reader. He overtc her and ventured to speak. "We are going the same way?" asked. "I am going to She mentior a street not far off. "It 1b the same way," he repli< "tray I walk with you? I am the lib: rlan, you know." She hesitated a little. But an offic ?ueh as a librarian is not u perf stranger. Besides, he was ola ? looked harmless, and bis voice * toanner were friendly. "H you pleas 6he said presently. They walked together in silence, s by side. Presently the librarian began to * few leading questions, and lear: that his new friend was a workwon at a dressmaker's in the neighborhc It is not a fashionable quarter, and pay given to the most superior persoi but meager?still it was enough, . the work was regular. "I do not belong to the place," "T wAm />Aiintrv T V) C>?l>U, X I'UiilU uvui mv vvm44V.J . - .. no friends, and am fortunate in gett any work at all." "You must come a great deal to library," he replied. "There you car quiet and have the companionship ? books, if you care for them. But > must not always read sad books ' "I baVe no heart," she said, "for a I thing but sad books. This is my str i Good-night." k A week later she cam* again. Alw > on a Saturday evening. The reason > that she worked extra time in ordei ) get a little more money on 01 > evenings. "I have found you a book about l male convicts," the librariaa told . "It is twenty years old, but I 6upj , things are not changed much." I "Oh, give.it to me?thank you!" anfl She snatched it from hfm ana sough can her corner, where she sat, her head 01 )Wn her hand, reading the book all th lere evening. and They walked home together again. "You are in great trouble," aaid thi you librarian. "If it will be any help to you into tell me 'what it is. A good many peopli usp tell me their troubles. Sometimes i oof helps only to talk about things. Hav , ^ you no friends?" ilk.- "No. I have lost all my old friends not and I cannot make new ones. Oh! if i th), could tell you " "You may tell me, iJ you will trus He me." ock "You will not give me any more book kes If I do." me- "Surely?surely?* jm> "Well then?the reason why I want to hey read about?about?you know?oh! for must speak to someone?the reasoi the ^hy?it is because my sister is in prisoi rch ?oh! my sister?oh! my poor, poor sis ws, *?r! She is in prison." ie'p rHIPTKR TT. BV THE RIVER. j Jutside the old wall, a little of whicl . 0j still stand9, runs, 'winding slowlj through the meadows, the river or aBQ whose banks the ancient northern towi r at is built. It is broad enough for toats; and on summer evenings a few come jjv out, but not many, because it is a 6leepj 0"n' old town, and all the young men whc lce' have any go in them seek their fortunes 0^' elsewhere when they come to the rowjjig fng age. For half a mile or so below eQt the town a broad walk has been constructed, having the river on one side fin and a row of trees on the other. Seats an> are plaated here and there. It is the j go boulevard of the townspeople, and, when >er. the weather and season allow, the place ves is crowded and animated with the girls of ? in this happy town there are thirty rith P'1"*6 110 one young man?who go up^nd lle> down in pairs laughing and prattling ae not' merrily as if they were not destined bj ind the rigor of fate to single blessedness, Che because there are 60 many of them. 1 ,lso have always thought that this: special application of the old law about the sine ere of the fathers must be very hard for a jle. girl to accept with resignation. "You the Buffer," says the law, "because there are the too many of you. I am very sorry, but * 0.. ^it is the sin of the father?why were itto y?u born?" Why, indeed? his In the summer the lilies lie upon the } of waters; the river sparkles and dances the In the light and sunshine; there are an- swans and ducks; under the branches hat disport millions of midges; there is a her soft warm smell in the air, partly from es- the river and partly from the low meadto ows on the other side; the fields are full the of buttercups; from the tower of the in cathedral float the melodious notes of a carillon; the river is lazy, and flowetb a9 slowly, lingering beside its banks; now he and then a water-rat pldnces on the opted posite side as a fish leaps out of the t?d "tbil me all," he said. Ise ' rr> a water; thecow6 sit watching the sky and ow the Bunset; the swallows and swifts are the only really active things; it is a : of pleasant, peaceful place ,to which the lat crowd of girls lends an illusive show oi youth. I say illusive 'because youth ought not to be all of one sex, and when there are not male and female in equal jht proportion, youth loses its brightness, ay. When the evenings are cold and dark ten the place is deserted. No one walks there after sunset. This was the reason ind why a certain couple chose the place on his one evening in October. It was a little jli- after seven: the night had fallen upon a she gioomy cay. a iresn oreeze mew up rly the river, tearing the leaves off the ler trees, whirling them about In the air and *ed making drifting heaps of them; the iat branches overhead creaked; the m?ad< ior ows were dark; the river was black; ler drops of rain fell upon the faoes of the >ed pair who walked side by side, the young man's arm around the girl's waist, me "Tell me all," he said. "Let me know ith the worst, and then we can face ir. My m it? there anvthine that w6 can* .id. not face together?hand-iri-hand?" if "Oh!* she murmured. "It puts new jry strength in me?only to hear you speak he and to feel jour presence. Naomi ia to anxious and troubles hei self about tha future, morning, noon and night. Harry, will it make no difference to you?" me "My darlisg, how would anything 3c. make a differeuce to me? Do [ not lova are y?u 0Dce *or a^?for a1' this "vorld and an all the next?" me He bent over her?he was a tall and wn gallant young fellow?and she raised ,a8 her face to meet his lips. "He fell down," she went on, "whila John was putting up the shutters. He rv was standing at his desk, and he fell alf down on his face. He never spoke again Juj or knew anybody or felt anything. And rv, next morning about noon he died." re. "He died," echoed the lover. "Poor dear Kuth! You told rae of this in your :e(j letter. It was a terrible blow to you.! tea " "I wrote to you aDout It. uut I said of nothing of what was discovered afterije | ward." . "What was discovered?" "We always thought be was so well , off. Everybody thought so. There was ~*P never any want of money. When he died the people said we must remembei . how well off we should be left, and that ought to console us." ed "Well, dear?" tea "There is nothing. The business had . been failing off for years. There is not f j enough now to pay rent and taxes. ktt" And as for what is left it must all go t? , , pay debts." .1 "Poor child! This is terrible. What ind wil1 you d0?" it)(j fro be cQNTiypgp.1 e," ROMANCE OF THE WAR. ide A ffonndetl Soldier'* Memory Returns a6jj and He Kinds Hi* Lost daughter. ned Ami M<-Leocl enlisted in an Illinois repiaan ment early in the war ami left at home a l0Cj younir wife whom he had married only a the 'ew weeks before. At Mission Ridge he was wounded and left on the Held as dead, and ri was so reported. But bis wound did not reaD(l suit fatally, although it lef: his mind a blank through injury to his br lin. Recently sho his skull was trcpliiu':d, and the brain, re ava lieved of its pressure, resumed its mnc,in? tions. and his memory of the past returned. ? Ho sought his family at his old home and the found tiiat his wife was dead and that a ? daughter bora to him had married and 1 D? moved to Michigan. A few days ago the 1 old man found the daughter, whom he had you never seen, in the person of .Mrs. George B. Weller, Georgetown, Mich., the wife of a ny- prosperous tHrmcr. eet. m IViltl HorscR in the Northwest. ays For many years wild horses have beei was breeding and running in the regious border to ing ontheFraser River, from near Lillove ther up toward Quesnelie Mouth in British Col umbin. The horses are as wild as deer, seen' je_ danger a long way off. and at the approacl . of a man they will run away at a ratetha make.s it well-nigh impossible to catch them )oee The horses are apparently of a better kin* than those which for years rangid on th< i plains of Kansas, Texas and Colorado. i / * ? / \ FASHION FOIBLES. * COLD WEATHER STYLES IN B WOMAN'S DRESS. ftl 0 ^ The Handsomest Banque for Stout in e Women?Newest Sleeves?Braid- h? lug Has Been Revived, Pr , and Is Popular. I ne ne 1 j | | HE idea that a plain, smooth- sh |y fitting basque is the proper th I mode for a lady of generous th proportions is not a correct so 3 one, as the severity of outline brings sh I into undesirable prominence the glari ing defects of a too stout figure. The trj 1 graceful lines produced by the smooth pli " ve9t or plaits on each front, the soft or fullness of the vest that is gathered at it the top and shirred closely in succes- ne eive lines at fihe lower Bdge, with the sil i extra under-arm gore render the style wl t presented in 'the double column illns- mi 1 tration an ideal basque for stout la- ed | btyli^EISQUE^FOR ' dies. Fancy silk in dark Persian hai Bhades is-the material shown, the vest ] 1 and cruBh collar being of plain silk in be > the lightest corresponding color. A pri single row of passementerie ontlines ter J the second fold on isnch front, and the loo basque closes invisibly in centre. If lit! a plainer effect is desired, the vest and lesj crash collar can bo omitted, and the are fronts closed with umall buttons and ett buttonholes, as shown in the small for drawing, and by omitting the plaited 1 fronts, and covering the linings son smoothly with material, a plain glove- dm fitting basque is tha result. Pull gigot wei sleeves can be gathered or plaited at wo the top, the wrists being completed pei with a single row of passementerie. This will be found an excellent model, and while specially adapted to the re- ] qnirements of the stont, is becoming nla to all figures. Crepon, serge, cloth, Inf camel's hair, Henrietta, cheviot, satin life or eilk in plain or fancy weave will dr< develop stylishly with vest and collar of soft or sheer fabrics, velvet or fancy Hilk. I The quantity of 44-inch wide ma- ! i' terial required to make this basque for a lady having a 32-inch bust is 3f ' | yards; for a 38-inch size, 3 J yards; for a 44-inch size, 4| yards, and a 46inch size, 4j yards. ladies' and misses' sleeves. No 1 represents the new melon sleeve in six section?, suitably developed in black eatin, a narrow jet beading outlining four of the seams. The narrow under portions are shaped in 1 regular coat sleeve outline, the other t sections having rounded edges that ' narrow top and bottom in a style that 6Ugge6ts the name. A strip of canvas, or feather bone, is sometimes laid uni der the seams to make them stand out, ; and ccat-shaped sleeve linings are provided to support the adjustment. No. 2 represents the melon sleeve in pale colored satin, shortened for even* ing wear. Each upper seam is deco- ~ rated with a narrow frill of creamy , j lace edging, headed by a row of col- I i ored sequins to correspond in color i to the satin. The lower edge is completed by a band. No. 3 is the mandolin sleeve shaped | in three sections, with ample fullness 8jej at the top, gathered between the rQT seams to fit into the arm's eye. Cre- ^ pon is the material represented, the apper seams being outlined with narrow passementerie from shoulder to 1 wrists. These mcdes are extremely 1 1 popular, and will impart a fin-de- tho siecle stamp to any basque or waist in wei which they are inserted. It is advis- onl able to interline the sections with cas crinoline, haircloth, or other stiff fab- ma ric if the coveted stand-out effect is bei ' desired. abl The quantity of 41-inch wide material ver required to make these sleeves for a eitl 32-inch size is 2 yards for No. 1 de- sue sign, 2j yards for No. 2 design and 2J to , yards for No. 3 design; for 36-inch if c , size 2i yards for No. 1 design. If iut yards for No. 2 design and 2J yards the ; for No. 3 design; for a 40-inch size 2j in yards for No. 1 design, l? yards for hoi No. 2 design and 2 J yards for Not 3 tic [ design. For the misses' sizes''it will em i take of the same width material for a pri twelve-year-old size l? yards for No. no 1 1 design, li yards for No. 2 design, gu t 1J yards for No. 3 design; for four!> teen-year-old size, li yards for No. 1 j 1 design, li yards for No. 2 design and fac j and 2 yards for No. 3 design; for a vie a sixteen-year-old size 2 yards for No. 1 . tri . 1*r T* ifiign, 1} yards for No. 2 deeign and yards for No. 3 design. A WORD AS TO FURS. Seals may be pretting scarcer, but rs are longer, thicker, more olum- " ons and extravagant than ever. A 71 .ndsome mink collarette made for a :ominent New Tork woman has a ^ inge of tails which go all aronnd the ? !ck and down the front, reaching ;arly to the knees. Some short oulder capes are made so fnll that a: e edges hang like raffles. One of B; is kind is of beaver, with a hand- ^ me green and red silk lining which r< ows along the edge. Narrow bands of far are nsed to a im cloth dresses. Sometimee it is ^ iced around the bottom of the skirt Cl x 1 J. J A Gi ILL twu UttUUtt UUWll tUOitUAlt, ayniu ~ is used simply as a finish at the & ck and sleeves. A stylish brown ^ k crepon gown has wide revers of lite satin, with diagonal bands of nk far. The white satin stock is d ged with the mink and the sleeves & ti STOUT LADIES. t( 76 it for a border. N Persian lamb and chinchilla seem to ji f ? J i t_ ?i. B( tne lavorue material zor mguced collarettes and muffs. The lat- 16 are especially fluffy and dainty 01 king this year. Seal appears to be ^ le worn this season. Among the 0< 3 expensive furs mink and marten i in demand. A pretty mink collare edged with tails may be bought * 836. . n: iVomen appreciate the effect that P' oething soft around the face proles. Those who cannot buy furs m ir feathers, and, indeed, some 01 men who have the means to buy ex- b isive furs prefer the feathers. 0 01 BBAIDING AGAIN BEVIVED. Si Braided effeots are exceedingly pop- K ,r in all sorts of fabrics this winter. fi ;ricate designs carried out in cord- H e braid appear on many plain cloth "w ssses. A broadcloth in dark green __ * ki iiipte / / & Al V- - k< -sr X&i ? S cl // 01 "X /" o: ' w: tr s almost covered by braiding in y ?V Thft front rianel of the akirt ae b wi ought from waist to hem in an. ^ ricate pattern. The bodice, which ^ 3 cut low to allow tbe wearing of a ^ lar and chemisette, was entirely ^ ered with braiding. The melon jves had their seams outlined with irs of braid. Big, black pearl buts fastened the bodice. cl THE SEASON'S SILK. 88 taffeta is the silk of tbe season, and >se of tbe last season's colors and ^ ive aie again on the market. The y thing that is positively new is the 111 hmere effect and the blending harnionsly of a lot of colors. Remem- kf that the usual shot effects, change- w es and the stripes and dots are still m y pretty, and no one need hesitate & tier to wear last season's dress of R' ;h design, or think it bad economy sp buy a new one of these kinds. Bat w] me means to put some little money je 0 the dress, it is wise to go in for 1 cashmere effect, which is assured j0 its accepted popularity and will wj d its' eSeet of good taste for some ae to come. As to tbe model to be ai ployed for such stuff1, there is no ? ta lillli sq 5 AND MISSES. sference among the many that are w acceptable beyond thai; which is ided by individual taste. \ large hat of violet felt ban velvet :ing on part of the brim. Wings of Cu >let and gold shades and black os- as ch plumes are the iiimming. "e an wi HOUSEHOLD MATTERS, THE IDEAL HITCH KIT. The ideal kitchen should be the rightest, most convenient and airiest Dom in the honse. It Bhould be bnilt rith due regard to the position of the . ining room, and yet so shnt off that o smell of cooking can penetrate into be more leisnred parts of the house. As a rule, however, a kitchen is but other name for darkness, dulnesa d pokey corners, so constructed iat it has not room for half that it | equires. i As to the perfumes of dinners past nd gone, they seem to pervade the j ou86 just when they are least wel- ,, ome; aud undesirable noises, inno- ] ent enough in themselves, no doubt, j ut out of place in the drawing room, [ nd their way from the same region. , A baize door that shuts of itself ' bould always be between the kitchen j epartment and the rest of the honse, , _ j i.i_ n n_ i j j .a. uu hub win UHUftiiy db jouuu euw j ive for the .purpose of keeping but Dokery aromas. If not two baize oors can be used, opening different ays, and with convenient hooks for se when needed. Where it is possible a email sliding oor should Do between the dining oom and the hall, outside of the itchen or the bntler's pantry, through 'hich everything can be passed into tie dining room. This not only keeps tie food maoh hotter than when it has' 5 be carried through the hall, bat reakages are far less frequent in con* jqnence. The kitchen range should have every onsideration shown it, and should Iways be bf the best and latest pat-' srn. The ovens should be roomy and wily kept at one temperature, and lie door should be fitted with the atent glass windows, through which oook can examine the progress of er crust apd cakes with no fear of le direful consequences that ensue tiould the door be opened unwarily. An oil cooking stove (or a gas one, : preferred), should always be at hand > supplement the ordinary range. fnt nnlv is fViia ir^isnAnmVilfl Whan ot water is wanted in a hurry, or * >me email thing cooked when the fire i low, bnt it is a great help to the 3ok when a dinner party is in proress, as giving her so much more joking room. In summer time an oil or gas stove i of the greatest use in keeping the itohen cool, as ib can be put ont when ot wanted, and used entirely in the lace of a coal fire. The dresser shonld be the next conderation. This shonld extend across e Bide of the room, and have shelves, ooks and drawers without number, n the shelves should stand ohina; a the hooks hang jugs; in the drawers lould be the kitchen linen, etc. itcben china should be kept separate om that used in the dining room. : it is kept together, it may be used hen it should not be, to save trouble. A large table with drawers in it, for ] Qives, forks, skewers, ladles, etc., in < se in cooking, should also be pro- ^ ded, which can also be used to pre- , are the food upon. A smaller table 1 lould be provided for the servants' 1 teals, and a bright cloth kept on it ] hen no cooking or meals are in pro- : ress. < The chairs should be of as comfort- ] ale a build as possible, and a small j sreen is cosy, and keeps out draughts < i the evening. A square carpet, that j ill roll up in the day time, should be } rovided for the floor, but be put < 3wn at night when the work is over. < A few nice, bright pictures and J oking glass should be on the walls: < here should be a shelf for the cookery' < 3oks, and some deep cupboards for? 1 jepiug all wooden and tin utensila i. A red roller blind looks far more1 1 leerfui at the windows than a white le, and keeps clear far longer. ( A slate should hang by the dresser, < i which the day's menu must be i ritten as it is ordered by the mis-' ; ess, and another one kept, on which1 ( tchen wants can be put down as soon i i noticed. A bill file should be bandy,' ' I which to file the little tickets that ie butcher sends with the meat, .as iey must always be kept to check his II by.?New York Telegram. RECIPES. Eoiled Artichokes?"Wash artilokee, peel and put them into a rucepan with enough cold water to >ver; add salt and boil twenty min- I ;es, or until they are 6oft. When 1 >ne drain them, and serve with j elted butter poured over them. j Sand Tarts?One cup batter, one- ! ilf cup molasses, two eggs (reserving? . bite of one), one teaspoonful cinna- j on, one cup brown sugar, three cups x )wr, one teaspoonful baking powder, oil out thin, glaze with white of egg, rinkle with granulated sugar, and < ben baked dot with bits of currant "y. Stnwfld Rabbit?Cut ud and dis- ' int the rabbit; pat into a stewpan ith about a pint of boiling water and ro slices of salt pork and stew slowly itil quite tender; slice an onion, edge with flour and fry brown in a blespoonful of butter; add this to e stewed rabbit, thicken with owned flour and season with salt, pper and the juioe of a lemon. Sago Soup?One-quarter pound of > e best pearl sago, washed till the J iter poured from it. is clear, then j 3w it in about a quart of water till * lite tender; the water Hhould be j Id and heated very slowly; then mix t th it one pint of rich boiling milk d two eggs and mingle the whole refully with about three pints of al or beef stock, which is already j tiling, and serve at once. ( Breakfast Fruit Cake?One pound s Id boiled potatoes mashed smooth; [ 3 Viol-f o * U U JiU puuuu UVU4| ?* ? |/vuuu r lely chopped suet, a little less than f ,lf a pound of currants and two mces moist sugar. A teaspoonful of king powder should be mixed with e flour in its dry state. Roll out e dough to half inch thickness and [ ke in moderate oven. Cut into * uares and serve hot. ;i Cream Puff?Mix three tablespoon- * Is of flour with four of milk until o tooth. Beat yolks of four eggs and c d one-half cup of pulverized sugar, a en the grated rind of a lemon, then _ e juice and lastlv the flour paste.; it into mixture -with as little stirring: possible the whites of the four eggej n aten stiffly, and place in buttered; n d warmed pudding dish; powder; th eugax aud bake twelve minuteeJ RELIGIOUS READINB ? 'v H| XOT QriESCEXCE, BUT ACQUI*SOES<Sfc S^B| There is a true and a false mysticism. ( former very pernicious. ' It is sot correftb ^H|H wholesome to hold that all human activity 9 to be forsworn, that nothing is needed l? contemplation and introspection, that oidH wills, reasons, and personalities are to be ab-^HK sorbed or swallowed up in the divine. I{H any have believed in this sort of qtiIetl$mrMH which is Derilously near, if not practically ? coincident" with, indifferenttetn, they were certainly in error. We are quite sowf that n very few ever did, and also that there ii> no special danger in that direction jost now In this bustling age and land. IB But there is great danger, never more real than now, of not cultivating enough . B that higher knowledge and fellowahIp^ici< I the Holy Spirit gives, and by which *>vefyr^H believer becomes initiated icto mysteiiee -OJf^^B more than earthly worth. It is the Italy M Spirit who opens men's minds to'.ttpder^ Ml stand the Scriptures, and who enargb^^' l our faculties to take hold effectively ori thfc. world around us. There is a very deUgWfttt'i.^B and Intimate guidance by the Spirit to hissuggestions and have fl^andoneObft vjB perversities of self-will. God can onftddfes /,Bfl lommunicate Himself directly to those y&'p UBS watch closely for his manifestations and are H still.enough within to hear His gentle 'YqjQfc He does not strive nor cry aloud -.but Hfrhafc- -Bal Messed secrets that He whispers to &o?e fP* B jence, physical, in a world where such' go<nS 1 work needs to be done, would certafniy b? wrong; but a tranquil, cjlrrl, unruffled, mind-. BR s always eood, and complete acquiescence ife; Jfl .11 lb. ill - I f ~ A nirfit ui uia tviii ui uvu uuvukuvu? jvents of the rolllngd&ysla the IndispqnBRN^HB iondhiou o^f perfect peace, and themosjy^dJyaH rcitE, NOT rcBiTANxo. y: <;fj^W The distance between good and eril jxtremeiy small; especially when the f Dnly Hii abuse or an exaggeration,1?!;. tht^n jood. There are certnin chemical cotflOdt^w^HB There tHe elements are so nicely". hat a single drop too much of any,<fdj^^H ;hem will radically alter thk nature of n?' fl nixtore. So the ordering of Jlfe in ttHr/M higher langes requires much wisdom. ItJa- J ;asy to disturb the delicate balaNM^I ind to turn what wag an :eminent; rirtue into something very like a vloe.^.gBj Too much is as bad as too' Rightful respect for authority readily pa*S?a^W| nto slavish adherence to tradition. Proper'. I ndependence of mind is not far from effee-: -Mi sive self-conceit. Careftf Dess to b& ; right In little thiugs may become raorbld.'jMI jcrupftlousness which 'jriDga the soul iffto'p^H jondage. There is su'.'h a thing as an orer* .'|H trained punetiiiou>ness in minor matters j ;hat negatives freedom and defeats decisions" Life is too short to spend a great deal , tf -jIM imeia determining which shoe to put on\r OB It is scarcely posslb'e to be too striot, wfth^^B >ne'8 aelf in avoiding sinful or doapt^^^^H things, it may be thought: yet one can carry :his idea so far as to put fetters on all Jmfll ixpresslon, and rob the spirit of everything; /BE like liberty, and breadth and power., .ea.* ;oriousne?s lurks very near to #ucb a habit aui 5: Hj i narrowness of view that rules ont ft great ieal which Is eDtlrelvInnocent and everv way^'. JB Deautiful. Large number*, not satisfied wlttt aein>; Dure, have bt-como Puritanic, antf wbw&vjBfl ivas originally a true holiness has got turned :? Into such a,sour, cold,Pharisaic severity WWr' j^B ird the uulioiy that it has no veHy close re-O^B semblance to the ChritUke spirit of fovPrff: ! rhere is pressing need of watchfulness, nbt -'] inly l^t'our good be needlessly evil apcfcett'-jJ^H Df.^but lest it be gradually changed' into ."r.^O CABBY ALL IOCR TBIALS TO THE6AYIOB. 99 In the new life of Queen Victoria, jwjtr I [>ubi:shed la an extract from one of hefc ., Bl etters written at a time when h'er lusband was carrying unusually heavy btfr,- )'^H iens. She nobJv sustained toim with a loving ijM jourage. and wrote to her Uncle Le&polrt; lever was calmer, quieter or leia nerv^^^^H 3reat events make me calm. It Is only trifles;;-^B ;hat irritate my nerves." This ability t o ?Bj rise to a great emergency and inspire otherjr.-J^B svith a new faith is an admirable -trait 3f character and not confined to royalty. Bat too often it accompanies extreme 1 ability concerning trifles. We have seea^SH vomen who would go through the eipert- j? jnces of bereavement, horrible acoldents and M oss of property with an unflinching heroism.' >]H ind jet be uppet by a Dick in tbeobina or the. M -uin of a bonnet in a shower. Inasmuch a?;< f R| everediclplinei& the exception, in life and ' jetty annoyances the daily rule, it is well toj. .1 mltlvate a serene spirit towards minor ills. "?!M Jne reason, no doubt, why a great sorrow or. :';M llsaster is.more bravely endured is that w? >;H| io not undertake to meet these exigencies in "-BP )ur own strength. Bat is not the Lord a* .M ible to furnish grace tor the lesser need as THAT LIFE IS TO THE LIVING, SO DEATH IS TO ' -'H People often speak of the solemnity of dyng. It is a grave and serious matter, bat it Jflfl s a prent deal more solemn to live. - Dying is ' fl Dut giving back into Gods hand His,own gift H -life; and if we hare lived well, dying is fl rlctory. Kiory, me irBnijjuuff ui. mco lome to fragments, as onr soul bursts into ^eal and full life and blessedness. Iti?living B that Is serious and solemn. Life'to its ' last . B particle is our Lord's property, intrusted to B is to be used so tbat it shall grow. Thea ^B ;omes the judgment. We shall have to look jp into our Lord's face, and teli him what ivn have done with His pound. We shall b? ' B expected to return out: trust. Dot only kept B <afe, but enhanced in value.?J. IL Miller, D. B "bear ye 05e axotkeb's bubdexs/'v We have need of pntienoe with ourselves fl and with others: for the greatest things and B :he least: against sudden inroads of trputyo;*?B and under our daily burdens; in the weari- B :iess of the body or the wearing of the soul;-' B ;n every day wants; iu tho aching of sick-; I a ess or the decay of age: in disappointments, I aereavements. losses, injuries, reproaches; B n heaviness of the heart or its sickness B imidst delayed hopes. Iu all these thing?, ' 'rora childhoods little troubles to the mar- B yrs suneriujo. p?ucui.w to vuu ? .,._ __ whereby we endure evil for the lo?e ofQod. A MAN OK SORROWS ASD ACQUAINTED WITK . H GRIEF." All the other bonds that had fastened H Jown the spirit of the universe to oar narrow!; - H round of eurth were m nothing > n comparison :o the golden chain of suffering and self-sac-. H riflce which at once riveted the heart of nun to One who.like binftself.was acquainted with grief. I'ain is the deepest thing we^M lave in our nature, and union through pain'n^H iias always seemed more real and more holy! ban any other.?Arthur H. Hallam. ; - ;<B| VALUE COSIMCXIOX WITH OO^. - "V;jg^K There aro comforters that have been born ' H nto service and discipline, not so much H h rough persona) experience of trial, aa^.-jH hough a perfect communion with the great -.fl leace-giver in whom the springs of comort rise. Love and sacrifice hold the mean- H ng or all that is great and true and beautiful .fl or one's own soul, and must hold the secret ,-jH jf all powers of helpfulness to the world. H The clouds that for us mortals haunt the Vtflj and of righteousness ami truth may long lang so thick anil low that living close to r/V'H ,'hrist the soul may still fail to see Him; but ome day certainly the fug shall riso, the ' ' H 'loud shall scatter, aud in the perfect en- :B ightenment of the other life the 60ul shall ?' H ee its Lord, and be thankful for every darts- V IB ist step that it cook towards him.? Phillips H Irooks. ? p* Twin* Marry Twins. H A peculiar double wedding occurred near*; fl Canton, Ohio, recently. The brides and? frooms of both weddings were brothers and * isters and twins at that. Hurry Poorman'^M ,nd Florenco Slayman were the contractlng/^^B iartie.< in one, and Philip Slayman and ladie Poormun in the other. The marriage eeurred at the Slayman home in Beach V 'i'y, each couple having separate attend- H Has Discovered a tuit Art. j ^ I A man in Detroit, Mich., has diw?rered H le lost urt of tempering copper so that the K letal may be utilized in place of steel for B tany Durposes where corrosion puts steel at disadvantage. 1