Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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OJ.U IQIOIOIOICIOIOIOIOO I O 1 ? Ti o% ?! Road I? Gr o* - * ? o o ?! Bv Dovothi 0 ~ * Author of ' Ucovgie,11 UT Z. * o?t - Copyright. tOOS,bu J ?>' LlPPl.^f'OI oioio ioioioioioicioToioioI CHAPTER 3. I Tornicntilla grew in a scrambling fashion, half in the ditch and half out of it; aud caught, the quick eye of a fellow-traveler with its bright color. "What a dear little red flower!" The girl picked a gay hunch of it and pinned it into her blue pinafore ?for the singular garment Sihe wore looked more like a uinafore wholly | wanting in frills than anything else. It was a kind of half-fitting blue linen tunic, showing clearly the vigorous lines of hor spare, boyish figure, and giving perfect freedom to her swinging walk. It hung by shoulder-straps over a white blouse. She was not handsome, certainly, and very brown "altogether; in her hair and eyes and skin. Her face was square, and her large eyes set in her face at an angle that was almost Japanese. Her mouth, too. was large and almost as red as Tormentilla itself, and she wore her heavy hair hanging in a long, thick pigtail over her shoulders. Her simple straw nat was pushed forward over her eyes, and it was only when you were as close to her as Tormentilla was, that you noticed the miserable, moody look they held. She swung down the two miles of long white road from Milinder House to the little town which sat at its gates and worshiped it, and you saw, if you watched her closely, that one way was as t>aci as anoiner iu ner, and that she only walked at all to kill her thoughts and dull some deadly pain. It seemed too had that such pain should scar a young heart which had until quite lately demanded, found, and taken its pleasure and its Joy of life as a right. An ancient weather-prophet, scanning the cloudy gleam of the sky with an owlish pretense of wisdom, jumped at the opportunity of making . a remark as she passed by his little * "rhite gate. "Young woman," he said, "are you >ware that you're wearing a common weed in your gown?" "It's rather a sweet little thing," she said, smiling as she touched it : caressingly with her finger-tips. "What do you call it?" The ancient beamed at her. "If you'd a axed any one else in ' this nayburudd," said he with de* light, "they could have guv no answer. Tormentiller is its name. It 1 is a humble wayside branch of the great Potentiller family. I am a ' member of the horticultural society i of this town, and of three botanical 1 societies in the nayburudd." "How nice!" said she politely. ! "Tormentilla. It's a prickly sort of ' name?a nettlish name?isn't it?" 1 "Much more suitable name for a that's a torment to itself and ] every one it comes in contact -with," i .she murmured miserably as she went ] on her way. i At the corner where the road to l Four Meadows branches off to the < left, a long black and white house I rose on her right hand. It was an excellent imitation of the old tim- < bered houses proper to the county, < and she stopped to read the brass ] plate on the gate. "So this is where Dr. Cogwheel lives," said she. i She walked into the surgery and \ sat down on a round cane chair. The , back number of the Autocar which j she took up seemed to distress her in , some unaccountable way, and her eyes filled with impatient tears as , she gazed out of the window at the neat bedded-out designs on the lawn, in scarlet geraniums and blue lobelia and prim, round, gray-blue saxifrage , like dolls' cabbages. "Gracious, what a deadly hole!" , she murmured dismally, and flung the ? Autocar, with a vicious twist of her , wrist, at an irritating bluebottle in ' the window. "Shut up, you buzzing j little wretch!" she cried, and the bluebottle did shut up?forever. Then suddenly a clear, fresh voice J in the passage caught her ear, a rus- j tie outside the door, a smell of violet scent. She hated scent. The door opened and a girl came in with a rush; a radiant, dazzling vision for moody eyes, one would have thought. A girl like a primrose, in a white dress with a little green flower on it; a girl with soft, light, bright hair and sea-blue eyes shadowed by dark lashes; a girl with a complexion like apple-blossom and a smile which drew Tormentilla to her feet in a hurry, with a glare. "Dr.. Cogwheel?" she asked I sharply. The vision dimpled and laughed. "Oh, no," she said; "I'm so sorry | I'm not, but I can't help it. can I?" | "Can I see him, please?" "I'm afraid not. It is most unfortunate, but he had a patient who would insist upon seeing him instead of one of the assistants. So incon siderate, we thought, but the man was dying, and what could father do?" The dimples and the coming and going of the apple-blossom in those j young cheeks were so awakening of distracting memories to the girl in the blue pinafore dress that she could hardly bear it. She did not answer, but stood devouring the face before her with eager eyes, her heart beating frantically. "I'm afraid I'm only Audrey," the beauty murmured, with a touching confidence which was the last straw. "It was an angina case, yousee.andhe had to fly off in the middle of breakfast to the other end of the world, because the man's relatives insisted upon it. Can't you give me a message for him?" "Please ask him to come to Malin der this afternoon." "To Malinder?" Audrey raised her dark eyebrows. ' But where? This is all Malinder. I'm sorry I'm so stupid, but I'm afraid I must ask for details, although I hate to worry auy one." CtQIOiQIOIOIOFOIOIOIOIOtO *"" " 1 " ' " ' "" ^ ,E? l|| etna Green If! |o o )d Deakin, $ ? 0 U c 1Y ish iny Jiing," litc. J q o!_ O 'T COMPjt AT. All riffhts rt&mcrl. I ? 0 IO t O 10 1 O I 0 I 0 IO 10 I O I01 O I o "Malinder House. There is a ladyj there who is rather ill." "A lady? Mrs. Gramper?" "No, Miss Green. She is lodging with Mrs. Giamper. She would like to see Dr. Cogwheel this afternoon," she said briefly, throwing back her head and turning to go. "Oh, ] beg your pardon," said Audrey apologetically, with an appealing smile. "It was very impertinent of mo. Do please understand that I only wish to be able to explain as much at> 1 can to my father. Doctors naturally like to know things, you see. It's very troublesome of them. 1 quite see that. And people are so averse to telling anything, aren't they?" "Miss Green is an old friend of Mrs. Gramper's last situation"?the pinafore girl's ready powers of invention startled herself?"and I'm her niece. "Then you are??" "Yes," said the other shortly, for site found Audrey's sweetness almost suffocating: "I am?" she hesitated, but only for a moment?"Tormentilla Green. Good day." Audrey held out her hand. "I am so glad you came." she said. "We shall like to call upon Miss Green, if we may. Mrs. Gramper was at Coltsfoot Hall, "before, wasn't she? Are you really related to Sir Diggory? Mother will be charmed. I can't tell you how pleased mother will be if she can do anything for Miss Green. I only hope she isn't seriously ill." Her pretty, empresse manner, her delicate and apparently genuine concern, her wide, appealing blue eyes, her little rosebud of a mouth, her easy, friendly manner, were too much for Tormentilla. She took the delicate little hand Audrey offered and shook it limply. "There are so few nice girls in Malinder," said Audrey sadly; "I rtfton cav to mother. 'Dearest,' I say, | "In ambush." the girl said lightly. "Oh, you can be too careful, and, besides, I have told the man's daughter that 1 am your niece"?she tossed her straw hat at a sandy kitten on the window-seat?"Tormentilla Green. It came to me as an inspiration this afternoon. Isn't it a mumpyfrumpy name. Greenle dear? A pricky, spiky, diagreeable name? It's a suitable name for a creature who only lives to be a torment to everybody and everything. Oh dear, oh dear! How I hate it all!" Misx Green looked up at the miserable voice and dull, hopeless eyes. "Something fresh has happened," she said with conviction. "Yes. I've seen a girl; a pink and white girl, more like Dolly than you <vould have believed possible; and sweet, too, cloyingly sweet, like her, with all he same litile tricks to catch approbation. Nut quite the same?well, tho same complacent, self-satisfied look Dolly lias, but the same appealing, pretty manners that other girls have to suffer lor." Miss Green put down her embroidery and regarded Tormentilla with anxious affection. "If only you would accept this trouble more calmly," she said anxiously; "if only you would realize that it is really better to move with the stream than behave like a puppy on a chair. 'the world is so empty, isn't it? A true friend is so rare.' Father says in his cynical, manly way that no womanly women ever makes a real friend, but mother quite sees. It will be such a pleasure to know you." "Thanks so much," said. Tormen- . tilla brusquely. . "Good-by. Please tell Dr. Cogwheel." "Oh, of course he shall know?the pery minute he comes in: I will wait for him on the doorstep. Literally I will. Would you like to see the garJen? What a dear little red flower rou are wearing! What is its pretty ar me?" "Tor?It's a kind of a sarsaparilla," , said Miss Green's niece hastily. "And 1 [ think perhaps I'd better get back to . Greenie now, if you don't mind?" "Greenie!"' Audrey broke into her ( pretty, girlish laugh. "How perfectly . sweet of you to call your aunt that! Mother would never stand it for an instant from me. Would yours? Or ! father. They insist upon the most Dld-fashioned respect. So quaint of them, isn't it? Do yours?" ( Tormentilla's blows blackened. "I should never want to try anything ( jlse," said she gloomily, and went , home. The great, ugly Italian house j looked like a prison to her as she ran up the grass steps of the terraces i to it. She slipped in through a side | ioor and down a long, cool, painted passage to a wide, large-windowed room looking out to the rose-garden. It was a pretty room, with yellow, painted walls and oak beams; a room which seemed to hold the sunshine long after the sun had gone in. A little gray lady embroidering , something in delicate colors, by the window, looked up with a welcoming smile as the girl came in. A* * " 1" J + i rV> Z^O *' ] "i ve omy cuugucu bcicu uuivq, she said as Tormentilla flung herself into a rocking-chair. "I'm really much better. If you would only allow me to treat this as an imaginary cold, I know it would cease to exist. These things are more influenced by one's imagination than?" Tormentilla laughed, in spite of her gloom. "Don't talk Christian Science to me to-day, Greenie. I can't stand it. If you want to make me believe that your imagination can make you sniff like that, and lie awake coughing all night, I simply won't?so there! And the doctor's coming to see you this afternoon anyhow. It's a beautiful world. Cheer up!" "Is it wise?'' Miss Green's cold had weakened her usual cheerful view of life. "To ask strange doctors in if vou wish to remain?" I assure you that every cloud has t silver lining. There will come a time Sandy, when?" "Tormentilla, not Sandy!" said th< girl sharply. "And you can't cornfor me with proverbs. You know by ex perience that you never can." "When nonest worth will triumph Beauty is but?" "Don't!" Tormentilla brought hei rocking-chair violently forward "Don't tell me that beauty is onl] skin-deep, and that handsome is ai handsome does, and that I must cul tivate a beautiful soul, because . simply won't stand it to-day, s< there!" "I never for a moment thought o suggesting the impossible!" criec Miss Green, much hurt. "I was mere ly going to say that beauty is in tfc* eye of the beholder, and that I'd sev eral times heard people say that yov looked almost handsome when jyci were flushed and excited by violen exercise." "Thank you, Gr^enie," TormentillJ murmured sadly; "you are comfort ing. I've never known any one quit< as comforting as you. If that's th< case, I'd better spend my days On i trapeze, perhaps, or play hockey al the year round. Who knows but ] might e;ven get a reputation for beau ty, if my health and strength helc out, and my bones kept intact?" "Beauty is?" "If you say it is a curse, I shall gc upstairs and howl!" the girl cried "Greenie dear, you would never nave thought a year ago that I was the kind of a girl to waste all these months crying for the moon, woulc you? But don't, nlp?0e, tell me thai beauty is a curse, because I know? no one hotter?that it's nothing ol the kind." "If you will give me time," said Miss Green, with dignity, "I will finish by saying that beauty is a rare and priceless gift, and that if you gc on fretting in this absurd way you will lose all pretense of it Besides, mere goodness, which can always be cultivaU. 1 by the stupidest of us, is not by any means to be despised." "I'd rather have a flower face thac a heart of gold, any day in the week,' said Tormentilla gloomily. "You haven't the remotest chance of developing either, but you cau cultivate happiness if you go the right way to work. You think abou-! yourself all day long. Here you are, at eighteen, alowing your first, youi very first, trouble to?" "That's whv it's so dreadfully hard to bear. If it was the twenty-first, 1 might have learnt how." "Nonsense! You will never get over it till you give up thinking about it. You must try to make others happy if you want to be happy yourself. J. know it's not a pleasing Idea, but?" "If only you wouldn't talk like a copy-book, Greenie dear." The girl rose from her chair, slipped to the ground at Miss Green's feet, and laid her tumbled head on the embroidery. Miss Green carefully disentangled her silks from the brown plaits. "My dear," she said slowly, "we shall be here a long time if you keer to your plan of staying until Doreen's wedding?" "I can't go home before; I simply can't." Tormentilla's eyes filled with tears again. "No, I don't suppose you can, but I was going to say that the only way to get over a grief is to go out of youi way to make things better for other people. I assure you that it's the only way." "But if I spend money, if I do dull charitable; things, people will guess that?" "I'm not talking about district-visiting and gray flannel petticoats and local philanthropy," said Miss Green hastily. "But an extraordinary number of opportunities crop up for helping people if one only looks out, And then you wake up one fine morning to wonder how yo.: could so soon have forgotten to be miserable. You find that your broken heart isn't broken at all, and?" "Are you speaking from your own experience, or just repeating some reverend person's holpful words?" "From experience," said ! iss Green gravely. To be Continued. How Was It? The illustrator was drawing a picture of a boy and girl sitting on a bench in a warm embrace. "My neighbors next door," he ex plained, "old maids, both of them, wanted to know how I managed with the models. If they both sat there like that hugging and kissing for me to draw them. " 'Certainly/ I replied. 'And ] have to show the girl how to put hei head on his shoulder. Have to sil there, put my arm around her wdist and almost kiss her. Yes, almost. ] don't have to kiss her. The othei model does that.' " 'Oh,' said my old maid neighbors when I explained it to them. 'I suppose then we must understand now that when we bear a shriek in here we mustn't mind. It's just you breaking in a model.' "?New Yori Press. The Cat "Yumped." The Nicklingtons, suburban house holders, brought back from the bead a cat which the Swedish maid discov ered there and had gradually edu cated to do some athletic tricks. Mr Nicklington was endeavoring to dem onstrate to visitors what had beer taught. Making a hoop of his arms he invited the cat to leap througl the opening. "Jump! jump! jump!" he bade th< feline, coaxingly. Kitty neAer stirrei but turned away in indifference. The xnaid arrived. Nicklington ex pressed his disappointment. Th< maid Olga, insisted that it could per form and would. "Here," she commanded to the cat "Come. Yump! ynmji! ynmp!" The cat vumped through. 1 it heir and gracefully.? Boslcn Record. Full of zeal, the country convert it his first prayer meeting remarks of fered himself for service. "I an ready to do anything the Lord ask: of me," said he, "so long as it's hon orable." New York City.?The sailor blouse that is slightly open at the neck is always a satisfactory and a pretty one r for warnr. weather use. This one can sa be made in that way or worn with a 0f > shield, as liked. It is greatly in vogue w ? for the entire costume and it is also ij] , H i well liked for the odd waist, so that I li. r, rryaa f mOTlV 11SPH. Half V. ? It SCI VC9 C*. 5i^Ub uiu.1^ uo I lined striped serge is the material il- sh I lustrated, and tbe trimming is band- 0f . ing of plain color to match the stripe, jj] but while a great many blouses and 110 i suits ot that material are used for ! the cooler days, washable materials i | are exceedingly attractive made after i } this style, and the heavier linens, soft . finished piques and the still thinner (! i lawns and batistes are quite correct. i j The blouse Is made with fronts and | oack. It is tucked over the shoulders, II the tucks extending for full length i; at the back, to yoke depth at the 11 front. The front edges are finished I with hems and the sailor collar is , j joined to the neck edge. The sleeves . are slightly full and gathered into j straight cuffs. The shield is quite I separate and when used can be ; finished with a standing collar or j without as preferred. It is adjusted j under the blouse and attached be neatn tne sauor conar. j The quantity of material required : for the medium size is three and ; three-fourth yards twenty-four or twenty-seven, two and three-eighth i yards thirty-two, or one and seven! | eighth yards forty-four inches wide, ! with one-half yard of silk for bands. I Neckwear Novelty. I A novelty in neckwear that could be fashioned from scraps, if one is ' willing to give time and patience to 1: the task, consists of a strip of velvet ij (black) an inch or more wide, of qi j sufficient length to fit the neck close- g? ly. In the front this band should jo 1 ; support a loop of flowers, tiny roses si ; made from small pieces of silk sewed w i to a stem made from cord covered st ' | with green silk. In the middle of ; the loop the stem is twisted into a fc ; bowknot. A millinery lavallier should tt 1! best describe this pretty little acces- tv ' sory. It is intended for wear with ys ' frocks cut in Dutch neck fashion. ys i jicru linen combined with a da?-~ , i blue dotted linen were very effective- tr , ly used in this summery little dress, at , The linen was of the handkerchief tc sort, a fine material being necessary hi for the gathered skirt. No style of fa j costume is more fetching this season, te Hat Contrasts With Suit. For years we thought it was the ? correct artistic thing to have the* hat tt match the gown. it is not con- w sidered fashionable, even if it is ar- sc tistic. It is not amias to have a sug- in gestion of the gown in the hat. Some m > people do this, but it is not necessary, ol The best dressed women wear suits, pi ? ive will say, of black auil white check b< tnd a hat of burnt stfaw trimmed sz ?/ith chantecler red. Nor only is the m 1 tontrast violent, but we Uke it. J n< - | New Toques. 5 | The new high toques are fashion* | ible with fine straw for the puffed lo | lop and rough, flat straw for the por- in I lion next to the face. A loose, wide m | hand of velvet conceals the union tf f ! of the two varieties. Another of u: theno toques is trimmed with a large ei Alsatian or windmill bow of velvet C or changeable taffeta in back. Still bi 1 i third toque of black, faced with w white satin, has at its left an upstand- ti 1 ing cockade, oblong in shape and cov- ai 3 ered with three vertical rowfl of ac- sc cordion-pleated white satin. ir ~ " ' : ' * Color On Negligee. Something new in embroidery Is ire for the lover of the dressing ,cque and the negligee. The toucb embroidery upon the daintiest hite garment is now done in colored len floss. Mark you, the white seal- I p is not abandoned on this colocruched garment, and aside from its bbons and the effective showing of ther strenuous work, the negligee as dainty as ever. Blouse or Shirt Waist. The shirt waist that closes at tho ft of the front is o pronounced vorite of the season, and this one lows of treatment of various sorts, this cape it is made of linen and e closing is made invisibly. A ore elaborate embroidery pattern uld be used, however, or washable aid, soutache or one of the round rts, could be applied over a stamped sign, or the waist could be finished ith an under-facing and made plain, just as liked. Or again, it could i under-faced and banding applied ithin the edges. All waisting marials are appropriate, and all those at are used for simple gowns, for aists made in this style are just as ;11 liked for batiste and lawn as they e for linen and poplin. Pongee ia ling much used for travel and ocsions of the sort, too, and pongee aided with black or with brown exceedingly smart. The waist is made with fronts and ick. The tucks are laid over the loulders and stitched to the depth a yoke at the front, to the waisf ae at the hack. The collar is joined i the neck edge. When the three ^jj larter aleeves are used they art ithered into bands and the cuffs are ined to these bands. The long eeves are made in regular shiri aist style with over-laps and raight bands or cuffs. The quantity of material required ir the medium size is three and iree-fourth yprds twenty-one 01 renty-seven, two and three-fourtfr 4-ntA n*t/1 ATl/i-f II US Lull Lj-iwu, L " U ajiU. KfL?^-L\JKI.k\,k irds forty-four Inches wide. Our sketch shows a somewhat ex erne but popular type of gown just ; present. Soft silks or sheer mairials are best for this style. Th? tit is one of the Oriental turban aftirs, the sole trimming being a butirfly bow of velvet at the side-back Tirri-In Skirts, As far as the fashions have gone tey show that we will oontinue tc ear the skirt that is hampered iD ime way at the knees. It was origally called the aeroplane skirt?this odel?and it now goes by the name ' the tied-in skirt. That is an exressive description. The effect ol eing tied in is got through the ish or a stitched band or an ornaented fold that holds whatever fuldss there is in at the knees. Paisley Designs a Craze. Paris is said to have devotedly foliwed the Paisley fad r,nd there are idications that tho voftue for trim ;mgs and accessories patterned after le design and coloring of the treasred PaisJey shawl of our grandraoth 's day lias reached those shores, oats for evening wear of black and right tinted satin and silk show ide Paisley borders and linings ol icked silk in blue, pink or orange, ad Paisley bordered fabrics of all irts are used for afternoon and eveng frocks and also for hats. [ THE IRON STUMP. ~ A Quaint Legend of the Old City of Vienna. iMUMiiiiiuiuMmiMunttt tr : No one knows the precise age of I the Austrian city of Vienna, although I there are plenty of patriotic Viennese i who will tell you that the first foun- i dations of their beloved town on the | beautiful blue Danube were laid, im- i mediately after the deluge, by one j Abraham, a near descendant of the patriarch Noah; and few will admit J that its earliest walls are any younger j than those of Rome. At all events, it is undoubtedly a very old city, treasuring many old and curious I things; and though far from the oldest, one of the qaintest of its "an- J tiquities" is the mysterious "Stock- i j im-Eisen," or "Iron Stump," about I j which are told tales enough to while j i away many an evening in a long win- j ter. Some time about .the year 830 A, j D., so runs one legend, the Emperor ' Louis the Pious, son of Charlemagne, j decreed that a hunting lodge should j be built for his use in the Weiner j 1 Wald?the old Forest of Vienna. 1 j Among those employed in this work i | was Friedrich Mux, a restless young J i apprentice, who, growing impatient j j of the harshness of the master lockI smith whom he served, ran away one ! | summer evening to seen nis ionuns, j like many other young apprentices i before and since. But the luckless j youth soon lost his way in the thick night of the deep old forest, wander! ing round and round, until at last he ! fell exhausted at the foot of a great ! ' larch tree, where he slept till day- i i break awoke him. He opened his eyes, j j and found, to his dismay, that he I ; was within a few hundred yards of i the very point from which he had I i started. Then he opened his travel- t i er's scrip to make a hasty -breakfast, < i and found, to his horror, that he had j ' taken with him a costly and beauti- i j fully wrought nail specially designed j I by his master to hold the great lock J of the imperial lodge. j Poor Friedrich was now in a | quandary. There was no way with I which he could with safety to himself return his unwelcome prize. If he | brought it back he would be punished | as a runaway. If he did not do so he I would certainly be proclaimed as a j thief. At last, in desperation, he drove the unlucky treasure to the J head into the trunk of the tree under ; which he had slept. "There," he | said, "old larch, be thou a witness for me when I return!" And he went his i way. Five years later Friedrich came again to his native city, a skilled master locksmith of great reputation. Envious fellow-craftsmen brought against him charges; of the theft of the precious nail, but the old larch ! tree, faithful to its trust, proved his I innocence, the missing nail being still in its sturdy keeping. So Friedrich Mux made his peace with his former master and lived and died a respected burgher of Vienna. After this story became known it grew a custom of the city that every locksmith's apprentice as he departed on hie WnnHoriahr thp VP.ar of i I ? ? __ j travel as a journeyman that must i precede his admission to the guild as j j a master workman?should drive into | } the tree a nai! bearing on its head i [ his initials or private mark, in imita- : i tion and memory of Friedrich Mux. | Thus, year after year, new journeyi men locksmiths di'ove their memorial j nails, until the stump of the old tree j became, as it remains to-day, a mass 1 { of iron, so filled with nails is every 1 inch of it. And year by year the city 1 | extended far into the Wiener Wald; j j until at last, of all the ancient wood, ; the iron stump of the old larch tree : j stood alone, the centre of a public ; j square. I I Now in the year 1573 it came to i pass that the good burghers of Vienna I I resolved to protect their famous \ Stock-im-Eisen with an encircling J iron band, which band, they further I I resolved, should be fastened with the ; ! finest and most intricate lock that j j could be procured. Every master locksmith in the imperial city com- i , peted for the honor of furnishing this [ masterpiece, and many wonderful I contrivances were produced; but i finally a tall, dark stranger, hailing j from nowhere in particular, sub I mitted a iock or sucn surpassing ingenuity and beauty that it was at once chosen by unanimous vote o 1 the council. But when the stranger was asked to name the price of the lock, he named so great a sum thai the burgomaster, old Heinrich Pfalz simply laughed in his face. Whereupon the stranger stamped his foot in a terrible rage, snapped the lock shul on the staple of the iron band and tossed the key so high in the air thai to this day it has never come down and finally, while the open-mov.thecl citizens were watching the flight oJ the key, that mysterious stranger vanished from Vienna, never to be I seen again! A great reward was offered to hire who could devise a new key to opeu the curious lock. After many trials by the mosi skilled workmen in the kingdom the successful competitor proved to be a young locksmith's apprentice, who in the end. like all industrious ap prentices of the old stories, is saic to have "masried his master's daughter."?St. Nicholas. Cause and Effect. A stanch teetotaller and an enthusiastic nsherman had a good stretc-t of the Dee lo fish in, and engaged the services of an experienced boatman But night after night he came back with empty creel, and at length departed in disgust. When he wa3 gone the boatman was approachcd and asked how it wan ibat a fairly esper't fisherman had such a run of ill luck. "A weel," said the man, "he had nae whuskie, an' I took him v,iu>re there was nae lush."?Boitou Trav eler. It is contemplated to establish wireless telegraph sta'.ions in German East Africa, Togoland. Kamerun and German Southwest Africa, and also between the different South Sea colonies [\{ofdiQiy Wmf$\. 'Af^VSovte for my daily raq?C jl ' \\iVx$mon& th<? plenjanf fields t^/J?l Ci'tfty holy Writ I might- despair^. , THE HEART THE PLACE OI? PRAISE. The heav'ns are not too high, His praise may hither fly; The earth ie not too low, His praises there may grow. The Church with psalms must shout, No door can keep them out; * But above all the heart Muat bear the longest part. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing: My God and King! ?George Herbert* The Lesson of the Flowers. Consider the lilies of the field.-* Matt., 6:28. There are very few who are not lti? fluenced by the presence of flowers, and the influence is always wholesome. If one can see in them nothing but weeds it is because there is nothing in his nature to which anything but weeds can appeal. If we could consider the lilies iit the sense that Christ would invokewe could see God in them just as surely as in the face of a child. If we could fathom the life of the flowers?how they grow, why one ift white, another red, another blue;i why one is star shaped, another like the face of a babe, another suggesting the full lips of love?we could fathom the mystery of life, the mystery of God. For He directs the life of the lily just as surely as our own. The words of the text occur in Christ's Sermon on the Mount, and ' in it, as in all of His discourses, He goes to nature for, His illustrations. He liken3 the Kingdom of Heaven to the growth of a mustard seed, and tbere has never been a clearer, mere convincing definition. Just as the smallest of seed grows into the largest of trees, overtopping and dominating the forest, so an ideal, an aspiration, a truth, touching the heart. may live auu grow, Liamuui.uii.Lig tuer character of man. Over and over again He seeks to make plain these truths in simple stories, parables, conversations. He did not speculate, philosophize, theorize. He simply looked upon the face Df sky and earth, saw God, felt Him-, self in harmony with that God as the Father, one with that Father, as the lily, the vine, the mustard seed and; the grain of corn were one, and1 straightway sought to teach the world what He saw and felt and knew; and' In doing so He brought into use all the wonderful manifestations of God about Him?the sunset, the sky, the rosy horizon at morn, the sower on' the upland, the fig tree a landmark on! the landscape?everywhere Christ saw sunshine and flowers and mam suggesting and radiating the pres-, ence of the Father, and always it was a Father of love, a Father that loved! man and every living thing. It was because the Father was in. His own soul that He saw Him everywhere in the face of man and natureAnd is it not a truth that the God one believes in will color and fix his thoughts of earth and heaven and his fellow? And is it not true that the [bought and knowledge of God given' to us in His Son has changed and is changing the face of nature,, the face Of our brother, the face of God? An<? when we love nature as Christ loved1 nature, when we can consider the {flies as Christ considered them, then will we behold the face of the Father In every living thing.?Guy Arthur Jamieson, St. Stephen's Church, New York City, in Sunday Herald. The Law of Growth. v Can anyone become a Christian at once? Yes, for one is accepted of God when he puts himself on God's side and begins to follow Christ. Can one become a full-grown Christian at once? No; that is as impossible as for ? " child to become a man in a day. What is the great law after one . has begun to follow Christ? The law of growth. Do we grow in the Christian life as we grow in body and mind? The law is the same. We learn about the teachings of Jesus as we learn arithmetic and history. The power of the soul increases with age fl I and use. We advance in love, faith, fl 6elf-control, and in efficiency for ser- fl j vice, and the most difficult things in fl | religion become plain if we are pa* > fl I iient and live near to Christ. B | Ought a young Christian be dis- fl couraged because in the beginning he U j knows so little about the -great things H of religion? H Not in the least. He should follow fl Christ; that will keep him a Chris- 9 I tian. Then let him grow and work W and learn.?Rev. Wortl* M. Tippy, in H : Western Christian Advocate. H Influences That Harden. A half-hearted and unyielded< soul IB | will grow hard and indifferent, even j on the side which is inclined to truth. flj i It is not sin only that hardens the heart. Good things rill do it. The j hammer of truth itself may harden if ffij | not yielded to sincerity. Passive im- KB ' pressions always harden us. The I man who hears, but has no intention I to obey, will at length become! indif! ferent to the call. The whole rounsel H| ! of God will not be known to hin^, and fl| j that which he does know, being held apart from God Himself will only rfrv anrl wither up his soul. For to |B hold truth aright, it must be held la ' secret communion with the God of BMB truth.?Rev. E. W. Moore. Tdenl Praying. RU I cannot contentedly frame a prayer for myself in particular with- BE out a catalogue for my friends, nor request a happiness wherein ray so- BE ciahle disposition doth not desire the M fellowship of my neighbor.?Sir IB Thomas Browne. BcB The Fuller Life. Life is fuller and r,weeter for every fuines9 aMd sweetness that we take knowledge of. And to him that hatk Dj cannot h6lp being given from every* thing.?Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney. ' H| y Pnwe an 4ntmivnhilp ' H i;r;uu ivuu.? hu A dead man was the only occupant: ot a moving automobile for a shord^O time in Portland, Me. While ridingj^H alone D. Winslow Hawkes, a memberj^H of the Portland S(*iool Committee and HH one of the best known educators in HH Maine, died of heart trouble. His au-^H tomobile ran along the curbing and* B9 stopped without being overturned. 3BB W.Udeck-Rousseau Statue. A colossal monument to Waldeck-j^H Rousseau, former Premier of France^HB was dedicated in Tuilieries Gardens, Paris, by public subscription.