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pf ? * THE 9) The world from the darkness aw i Swung into the light of the n?? Each actor at once advanced to And the ploy win on. From the heights of heaven, fror Onlookers follow the drama of But how it will end, is there one k t Shall Right or shall Wrong, fr Receive, when emerging from de? The final applause when the tit Tragedy, nnywav, howe'er it goc< And the Play goes on. Arrayed lor battle, vast armies i With pomp and splendor, proi Moans of the downtrodden rise t Groans of the serf and the sla' Still tyrannical might and the lu Still the rich oppress, as in ag? Still the poor are grinding in mi And the Play goes on. Th# rvnir <rnn? hp udf U Ki- -??? f -v The fool sella his soul for n ba n L. Men love and men hate: angels ^ Over hearts that are breaking There are births, there are deatl Go down to the vale, where thi There is joy by the cradle and gi And the Play goes on. And ever the watchers will hope While the wonderful drama of Till the curtain falls and the lijrl And the play :s done. ?James L. ^ i f"T*11l I til QB ' r*J '' st s 3 hi cm ! Mrs. Glenfiel* v.1 3~M I l*/r HC:XN forr NkOB ? ! si .i' i BBD amBB "It's no use talking," said Mrs. 1 Glenfield. energetically. "Poor? Yes, ! di I dare say he's poor; but so am I | bl poor. I need the money for my rent, and this is six weeks he's behind. Go to his room, Ernestine, and take the M bill; it's high time the money was paid." s: Mrs. Glenfield was a sharp-nosed, it long-featured matron, whose face, a originally pleasant enough, had grown sharp and acid with years of bi weary struggling to make both ends ni meet. A widow who keeps a New T York boarding house has plenty of bi opportunity to look on the shady hi side of things, and Mrs. Glenfield. sc somehow, found herseir growing misanthrop'cal as she grew older. lc Ernestine, her oldest daughter, "I took the proffered slip cf paper, somewhat volnotsnllv .?.Mv?uuvi,<, uUU ? CU I SiUff" I ly upstairs with it. She was a slight, small creature, j with 1)right brown eyes, hair of soft|<"r chestnut hue. and arch, pretty fea-| ?i tures." If Ernestine Glen field hadjti been the petted daughter of a rich man, her natural advantages set oil J by swan's-down, silk and jewels, the world would have pronounced her a beauty. As it was, with fate and for- hi tune against her, she even was remarkably pretty. w She knocked softly at Sir. Harney's n! doQr, and a dejected voice answered: lc "Coma In." n Ernestine pushed open the door w and entered. Wallace Harney sat at the dingily- it covered table, his head resting on his hands. The handful or sullen-lookIng red coal glowed like a vindictive di eye from the socket of the grate. A pile of papers, loosely tied together, r: lay on the table, close to his hand, sl with an open note, containing the n "respectfully declined" of some great publisher, who had never taken the trouble .to read Wallace Harney's s* carefully written manuscript. c< Mr. Harney was a young man, probably thirty years of age, but he felt ^ much older. He had been fighting Et destiny all his life, and up to the present moment he had had the worst r< of the encounter. No wonder that he felt almost inclined to despair. s' He started up, however, at the light sound of Ernestine's footsteps f< on the worn carpet. e< "Miss Glenfleld!" a "You used to call me Ernestine," " he said, half laughing. "What makes s< you so ceremonious now?" |a "I don't know," he said, vaeuelv. I pushing the damp hair from his hot forehead. "Did you want anything of me?" * Ernestine colored and hesitated? then she laid the hill on the table close to the inexorable editor's note. Wallace Harney sow It, and his cheek grew as scarlet as her own. "Mamma wishes?that Is, she hopes?'' hesitated poor Ernestine, who was a very bad hand at deceiv1 ing. "I see, " said Mr. Harney, " 'your money or your life'?that is the fashionable formula nowadays. But If you happen to have no money, what ? then?" "I?I am very sorry," s^id ErI. nestfne, meekly. ; \ "I do not know why you should be," said Mr. Harney. "It is six r.wjeeks since I have paid your mother \ Sfnything. but it is not because 1 have uot been working hard." "Mammp's rent cane due last \ week," said Ernestine, feeling as If every drop of blood In her body were turned to liquid fire, "and?oh, Mr. ><4 Harney. I am so sorrv!" (The 1 fist woids broke from her lips as she saw the pained look of Mortification in the young author's face. Involuntarily she put her hand in her pocket, and drew out a rustling / twenty-dollar hill. "Uncle Jason gave It to me for a new dress," she said, "but my old one \ is good yet?black silk always looks well, you know, no matter how long you have worn It. Please, please. Mr. Harney, take it." He pushed away her soft little hand almost Irritably. "Ernestine!" he cried, passionately, "i am not yet fallen so low as to take your little capital." * ? LAY. i depths of space e-made dawn; bis place, n the pits of he'.l, Life; ' can tell? om turmoil nrd strife ith struggle throes, got u won? laas by; id nation* appear; o the ?kv. re smite the ear, st of spoil; >s gone; lis of toil, ful sneer; uble to wear; veet>, devils jeer_ witii shame or despair. as: the knight and the knave e dank graves yawn; fief by the grave, or doubt. Life goes <>n, tits are out, Kluerd.ee, in The Theatre Magazine. J CT3 n e-TT ?. .t M - .?-* -r-s r jirjm u-31 . 3 ?i Vs Boarder* 1j r K8T C;ravi:S. fl am RX9?EscaoaBC3i7 "But you will pay me back some ly," she urged, stll holding out the 111. "I would rather r.ot risk it." "Then let uie give it to you. Oh. t. Harney, please!" He looked up in her face with a trdonic sort of laugh?the soft, pityig light in her eyes seemed to strike new chord in his heart. "I will not take it, Ernestine; but, slieve me, it has done me just as inch good as if I had spent It all.' ell your mother I cannot pay her ill, but che is welcome to my poor "longings here. They will sell for >mething, at least, when I am gone." "Mr. Harney," cried Ernestine, ioking up with wistful surprise, fou are not goi^S away?" - i es. " Where?" "To the river, the railroad track. iy lonely, desolate place, where 1 121 end a life that has hitherto been I no use to myself or any one else, lat I can see." "And leave me?" "Ernestine, St cannrf be possible \at you care for me." "Eut 1 do* Wallace," she owned, ttlf laughing;, half embarrassed. S'ow take my advice; it may be orth something, even though I am othing but a girl. Wai?_ a little inger, trust in Providence, and relember that there is one, at least, ho cares for you." "Ernestine, my little darling. But is of no use." he faltered, dropping le soft palm he had taken. "Hush! tere is a lcncck at the door?more uns, 1 suppose." It was a letter which the little ertnd girl threw into the room as if le too, fully appreciated Mr. Harey's social and financial status In le establishment. "Miss Tiny," she cried, tartly, as lie did so, "your ma wants you to >me right down stairs d'reckly." But Ernestine, for once in her life isrespectful of the maternal behest, ooped to pick up the letter and hand to Mr. Harney before she left the iom. "Perhaps it is good news," she said, xiiling archly, and then went away. Mrs. Glenfieid was all impatience ir her return down stairs; she wanti to send her to the dressmaker's bout a dress which was to have been one, and wasn't done. And the con .-itMii-e-sincKen aame of sewing-silk 1 nd scissors sui down at once to put nrooMtntavMVitKdii "I AM FOR ANTI-Ti :: ?CHAI 2" As one of the Justices ol Court. Charles E. Hughes will Oil Company and the Americai combinations and whether the; ? Federal Anti-Trust act. For captains of finance have been v n on these two cases, so thai whether to go forward or bac J* or strengthening those already 9 In a speech he delivered at 100U. Charles E. Hughes showi 22 he stood on the subject of trusl mm "We do not want anythii business enterprise. We don't 22 terfere with investments to We don't want to make it dill ?2 ment. But, on the other hand, mm to'' uuyliody or for any set t other people front ItMviitg perl *2 We want to end discrimination mm "1 ant for the anti-trust r combinations by which people i 22 Ket to markets and by which i ucttiiii; alone. I Ix-lli'ii. in <i? of inuking it absolutely iniposs 25 those measures which are take competitor in this country. mm "There are two ways of lo 52 One way is to see how much > of and how much you can gath in every possible way, beating gripping and squeezing the last of them; that's one way, and it 25 way is to go through life witl ability, if you have talent to ? capacity to launch a new ente 25 1" >'ou have capacity for any gr are the responsibilities upon yi 22 tunity to be of service to your 2? "We are nil together here mm ourselves up in classes if we I 22 K? down together. We wa are all together." I ob tfae finishing touches, and so it wai quite dark before Ernestine again reached home. "What do you suppose has hai>pened?" said Mrs. Glenfleld, meeting her daughter at the door. "I don't know," said Ernestine. "Becky has broken another piece out of the china set. I suppose." Mrs. Glenfleld shook her head. "Mr. Harney has gone." "Gone! Where?" "The dear knows?I don't. Pa!d his bill and gave Biddy a quarter for i herself, over and above. And he has ! gone." I Ernestine's cheeks flamed up. and I then grew pale. .Gone! after what she had owned to him that very morn- 1 ing. Gone! without leaving any fare- 1 well word or message for her! Well, 1 it served her right for so far forgetting her womanly reserve and maid- 1 enly dignity as she had done. And '< poor little Ernestine went moping ' about the house for a dr..v or two, < looking the mere shadow of her for- ! mer self. At the end of three days Mr. Harney came back. "Are you glad ;o see me. Er- < nestine?" 1 "I don't know," the little damsel 1 answered, demurely. "! dare say j mamma wit" be very happy to hear 1 how you are getting on." i "1 should like to see her," said Mr. Harney, and Ernestine went to cul! Mrs. Glen field. < "1 have come to ask a great favor of you. madam," he said, as the wornlooking hoarding house keeper came into the room. Mrs. Glenfleld shrank into herself, as it were. "If it's lending money?" she began, rather dubiously. "But it is uot," said Mrs. Harney, with an amused sparkle In his eyes. "It is a much greater favor than that. I want you to give me your daughter, Mrs. Glenfleld." "But you cau't support her," quoth the downright widow. "I can, if two hundred thousand dollars will do it, I have a brownstone house ready to receive her. and you. too, if you will honor us by being our guest." Mrs. Glenfleld stared at her visitor as if he were speaking the Sanscrit language. Ernestine uttered a little cry of astonishment. "it is true," Mr. Harney smilingly asserted, turnine to tho un-] Vnn remember that letter you save me? It was the legal notification of the death of a distant relative, whose very existence I was almost unaware of. I was his only heir, and his decease has made me, all of a sudden, a wealthy man. Ernestine, you owned that you loved me, when I was a poor man: you will not withdraw your precious heart now that I am unexpectedly rich?" And what did Ernestine answer? We leave the reader to guess. But Mrs. Glenfield's boarding house was closed at once, and the pearl of Ernestine's beauty is properly set at last.?New York Weekly. Liettcr Censorship. In Russia one letter in every ten passing through the post is opened by the authorities as a matter of course. Indeed the postal authorities of every country have experts who have raised letter opening to a fine art. Some kinds of paper can be stea'med open without leaving any traces, and this simple operation is finished by reburnishing the flap with a bone instrument. In the case of a seal a matrix is taken by means of new bread before breaking the wax. When other methods fail the envelope is placed between pieces of wood with edge projecting one-twentieth of an inch. The edge of the envelope is first flattened, then roughened and finally slit open. Lafer a hair line of an un^ wuiic uiu is apiiut'u unu ine edges united under pressure.?London Chronicle. RUST ACT" ' H RLES E. HUGHES. : t the United States Supreme J* decide whether the Standard 1 Tobacco Company are illegal y shall be dissolved under the 2* more than a year the great raiting for the Court's decision t they can safely determine kward in creating new trusts in existence. * a Blmira. N. Y., on October 23, mm id clearly and pointedly where .9. He said: J* ig which will interfere with want anything which will in give opportunities for labor. ? ftcult for men to find employ we do want to make it difficult r? unite together and prevent mm ectly fair and just treutment. i in business. ict. I am against the unfair ?re deprived of their chance to nde]H>ndent.s have a hard time i policy tliat has been adopted ible for secret agreements, for n to put down the independent ? uniug ill llllll^h 111 mis worm. rou can deprive your neighbor er in for your own enrichment people down by grasping and JJ : drop of blood you can get out is a very poor way. The other h the notion that if you have JJ run a business, if you have rprise and make it successful, JJ* eat matter, why all the greater ou because of the great oppor fellow men. in the world. We cannot split try. We have to go up or we int to realize that in society we ! PrpiCURErAN'S, POTATO SOL'P. Wash, peel and cut four medium sized potatoes into small pieces, cover with cold water, salted, and cook until done. Have ready a pint of milk scalded in a double boiler, together with a tablespoon of minced onion snd a little celery or celery seed to flavor. Take the potatoes from the [Ire, turn off the water and mash, rhlcken the milk with a tablespoonFul of flour, then add to the potato and mix. Add a tablespoonful of fine minced parsley and serve with erackprs or croutons.?New York Tele ;rnm. RICE AND TOMATOES. Rent together ope egg arrd '>alf a npful of milk. Stir in a cupful of boiled rice. Add a teaspoon fill of butter and season with salt and pepper. Let the mixture simmer for a few minutes: then drain tin rice, line a dish with it. wash it over with a beaten ess and put it into the oven until firm. Strain half a can of toma?->es, season with salt, cayenne pepper and half a finely chopped onion. Stew for twenty minutes. Then stir in a tablespoonful of butter and two tablespoonfuls of bread crumbs. Let simmer until thick and pour into the centre of the rice moid.?New York Tribune. MACARONI AND CHESTNUTS. Peel and boil a dozen bis; chestnuts and pound them to a paste. Season with a saltspoonful of salt and put them into a saucepan with two oupfuls of boiled macaroni, chopped; two tablespoonfuls of butter and one large onion peeled but not chopped. Stir the whole together until well mixed and heated: moisten, if necessary, with a little milk. When perfectly | hot. remove the onion and put the I macaroni and chestnuts into a buttered baking dish, cover with bread crumbs and grated chc-e?e in equal quantities and brown in the oven.? New York Tribune. STEWED RAUDIT. Wash and soak the rabbit. Wipe it thoroughly dry and divide it at the jojnts. Sprinkle it thickly with Hour. Place in a stewpan with two heaping tablespoonfuls of butter and three or four thin slices of ham. Pour on little by little a quart of gravy. S*ew the meat over a slow fire for two hours. Season with half a tea spoonful of salt. Add to it the rind of half a lemon, cut into small bits. A quarter of an hour before serving stir in a teaspoonful of rice flour that has been mixed with two tablespoonfuls of mushroonr catsup and a half teaspoonful of cayenne pepper.? Eoston Post. PLAIN ONION SOUP. This is wholesome and "tasty." Slice two or three large onions and fry yellow in butter or clarified drippings. When soft add three tablespoonfuls Hour and stir until cooked and frothy. Now add slowly a pint of boiling water, stirring until smooth and slightly thickened. Have ready three potatoes boiled and mashed and add to them a quart of milk that has been brought just to the scalding point. Put the potato and onion mixture together, season with salt and pepper, let it get hot. then press through a strainer into a hot tureen. Sprinkle over the top a little parsley minced fine and a handful crisp croutons.?New York Telegram. A small camel's hair brush will quickly and without irritation remove a cinder or other foreign substance from the eye. To clean a pot: Put one-half a tea spoon of soda in it, fill with hot water, let stand half a day or over night, cleans very easily. The arrangement of a mirror so that a child can see itself at play will oftentimes prove as amusing to a child as a playmate. When sweeping a room which has a heavy old-fashioned dresser in it, remove the lower drawer and sweep under with a whisk broom. If you wish to prevent raisins, citron or currants from sinking to the bottom of your cake, have them well warmed in the oven before adding to the batter. When you fry fish, and the fat gets boiling hot, before you put the fish in. sprinkle a little salt on the bottom of the pan; you may then turn the fish without breaking. Afttfr you have washed lamp chimneys tie paper bags over each chimney. Be sure the bags are clean before you put theilS on. Pin the bag tightly around the bottom. For quickly cleaning silver, put in kettle one tablespoonful of potash, eight quarts of cold water. Dissolve potash. Put in silver. Set on the stove and let come to boil, then take off. Rinse well; wipe. When you place irons on the stove to heat, put' a brick over the fire. The brick is used as a Iron stand. It will save many trips to the stove and hack; being hot it l.eeps the irons warm much longer than a common stand. As each fresh iron is placed on the brick, it renews its heat. I \ Si " I afri II Mr fill 111!' i v - *or M3^b* rou V Chil PORTRAITS. When Thoinps.cn takes inv photograph there's always such a fuss. My dress must be so stitT and clean, my curls 1 must not muss. And when we reach the galler, we stay a dreadful while! lie puts a clamp against my head, and asks me please to aiml". lie stands me up. and "poses" me. and tries this way and thnt: Then mother says sheU like just one with muiY and eoat and hat: ,, Aud then she starts to fix my hair in quite another way. And I get cross and crosser, 'cause 1 want to go and play. Rut now an artist's painting me. and that's t he worst of all: I'd rather have a tooth pulled out, or go to make a call! Why, even Thompson's gallery 1 shouldn't mind a bit; For here there's no: a thing to do but sit ? and si: - and sp ! ?Annie \\ illi? .McLullougli, 1:1 !?t. Nicholas. T-ITTLE IJKSSIK'S WISH. Bfssie and 1 illio were awfully lonely. Their tnatnnia had cone from home the day before and left them in charge of a very aged aunt. And this aged aum ?hv name. Aunt Maltha? would not aln?." Bessie and Billic to make any noise while at play, for she said "children's noises, cats fighting and dogs barking drove her clean distracted." So, you will readily understand that Bessie and Billie could not enjoy their play verj much while their mamma was away. "We can play in the attic." wills pered Bessie to Billie, as they sal very quietly in the sitting room aftei breakfast. Aunt Martha was sittin; there also, darning a very long ant very heavy woolen stocking. "If \v< want to play gliost or fairy up then Aunt Martha can't hear us." "What are you whispering about? asked Aunt Martha, turning he sharp eyes toward the eorner when the six-year-old niece and eight-year old nephew sat like tortured lilt! mice, fearing to move lest the old ca might gobble them up. "What ar you whispering about? Can't vo speak aloud? Nobody is going to ea you! Come, who was doing the wliis poring? 1 dislike to hear whispers they tickle my ears like a feathc wigging about in them. One onl hears sounds and can't make out th words." "1 whispered to brother that w might play in the attic," confesse Bessie. We won't bother you. Au:i Martha, if we're up there." "But it's as cold as the North Pol up there, child." said Aunt Martini ' However, a smile of agreablenes played about the sharp corners o her mouth as she said this, for th truth is she thought it a good idei for "the vexatious youngsters" to pla; somewhere a long way from her. Shi had not been a child for sixty years and had forgotten all about the! needs and desires. But, if you wan to play there for half an hour, why go up and do so. But mind, no turn bling down on the door, or shrieking or laughing too loudly." "I'd like to stay till mamma come! home," whispered Billie to Bessie, a: they crept along the hall toward th( stair. And up the steps they wenl like little culprits, fearing lest theii tiny feet might make a noise to dis turb the aged aunt below stairs, whe was communing thug to her stocking: "Children are a dreadful bother. 1 am thankful I don't have to put uj with 'em very much longer. Theii mother ought to be home some tim< to-morrow. And she, silly woman thinks those two noisy, bad-man nered little brats are angels. If the: run and scream like wild Indians she laughs and says: 'Bless m; babies! Just see how happy they are. Babies! Ugh, six and eight! Ough to be put at books and work ever; hour of the day. They fool away val uable time playing with toys am reading foolish fairy tales. So fey people knew how to raise children Hard as It would be, I'd like to tak< those two children in hand and shov iucn jj*xrciiL2> wiitti migai uc maue o them." Meanwhile, Bessie and Billie hat reached the attic, closed the door tc keep inside all their noise, and openet their mouths and cried, "Goody goody! It's so nice to get away Iron Aunt Martha!" "What shall we play?" asked Bil l!e. "Shall we play ghost?" "Ugh, no! It's so scary, brother The attic is so dark and I'd get sc frightened I'd hide and cry. Let's play fairy.'' "All right, sister, let's play fairy, Who'll be the fairy?you or I?" "You be the fairy, brother, and play 'at I'm a little girl what's lost in the big forest, and, ar.d 'at I'm crying for my mamma." "All right," said Billie, "I'll play that I'm in a tree and when you come along under it I look down and see you crying, and I'll ask you, 'What's the matter, little girl?' and you must say. 'Oh, I'm lost in the forest, and can't And my mamma. And the bears are about, and a big snake is undei the boulders, and I don't know where to go. Oh, please, good fairy, help me.' " "Oh, that will be such great fun," cnea Bessie, clapping her handB. I "And now, let's begin." Bessie walked along beside the box dropped down upon the floor, and bej gan her pretense of crying. "Ah, little girl, what is the matter?" asked Billie. "Car 1 do anything for you?" "Yes, good fairy, I'm lost in the forest and a big bear wants to eat fc ^f^a t , a, * _'.1b - fr'Ai Wfr*. finp ___ v . t me, and a big snake wants to bite my J big toe. And I can't find nay matumu. 9 Will you help me, good fairy?" "Yes. make a wish, and I shall grant It," replied Billie. "Well, good fairy, I want my dear mamma. ' replied Bessie, and her voice trembled a bit as she said this, for she voiced her dearest wish iu very truth as well as In play. Billie waved his wand, saying, "Wave. wand, for luck. \Vav~ wave, to help those in distress Wave, wand, and keep the bear from eating her. Wave, wand, and strangle tho snake before it bites her big toe. ' Wave. wand, and find her mother for her. for that is her dearest wish." "Ah. bless my babies, what aro tin y doing in this cold ai'.ic?" And | to the supreme delight of Bessie and ! Billie their mother came into tho attic and had them in her arms, kissing and hogging them nn'il they could scarcely get their br-nth. And when at la t tliev could supuk. Bessie I said. "Mamma. Billie made the bestI est fairy in the world. "le brought. I von to mo, my dearest w?Wash" i inston Star. 'V. TIIR OTTRH In the Washington Zoological Park, j down next the beavers' quarters, are ' two otters. People going to the brook 1 during the day must content themselves looking at the otters, for the beavers sleep all day. and do their work after sunset. The otters are 1 always out. playing like kittens. Of1 i ten the visitors call them beavers. : but they would never again do so it ' they could contrast the two animals. - Their point of closest similarity eon2 sists in spending much of their time in the water. The otter is darker brown and is a much more slender r animal. In fact, with its thick whise kers, it looks not unlike a cat as it tiwi m e n Unn u- U It 1 ?? ???* e water, says the Churchman, t When it drags its body upon the e hank one sees that the leas are shortit er than a rat's, and the tail, which is t broad ar.d stroma, is flattened more ?- like a beaver's. It is unlike the beaver's in tapering toward the end. for i' it does not nceJ to use its tail as a >' mason's trowel, as the beaver does. In reality the otter is a very distinct creature, not like any other anc imnl. It is found all over the world, d and is much alike in all places. The t points of difference are not unlike the difference which exist between men e in different parts of the world, being l. mainly variations in color and si~e s They are much prized by trappers i f their fur, those of Labrador and Ci.ue ada being especially beautiful, a Once there were a great many oty ters in England, but the little creae tures were too fond of fish to please i, the fishermen, so otter hunting with r dogs became a fashionable sport, t Hounds especially trained for that , purpose hunted down and brought the - otter to bay, and they were killed , with long spears carried by the hunters. In India and China the animal's ? fondness for fish has been turned to t good account. In the former coun; try it has been taught to drive fish t into nets, while in China the otter is r allowed to go into the stream to catch - fish and is then drawn out by means > of a rope held on shore. This is a very satisfactory way of getting fish. t as the animal never eats its prey un> til it reaches shore, and thus it is ser cured in a perfect state.?Newark ; Call. _ ' CAMPING. * A week or two before the Easter vacation a friend and 1 decided it ' would he great sport to use the first three days for camping somewhere. ( The best place we could think of near the city and yet away from "civillza' tion" was a small island a few hunj | dred feet from the shore of l.ong Island Sound, just south of New Ro? k ehelle. By good luck a cousin of mine ' who camps out in summer had a tent, two cots and cooking utensils, which k he was glad to let us have. In the way of food we took a dozen eggs carefully wrapped, soma bacon, lard, and canned iacuts and vegetables. | We also took our rifles along, four hundred bullets and fishing tackle. ' On the first day (Monday) we ar? 1 rived at New Rochelle at about 9.30 o'clock, and soon had our outfit stored in a good sized rowboat which belonged to my friend. In fifteen minutes the boat grated on a small ' sandy beach of the island we were to ' occupy. After fastening the noat we found a good place for the tent, set it up and found a safe corner for our supplies. Tho fun we had for the 1 next three days would nearly fill a 1 book, and therefore I cannot say : | much about it. We shot at targets and floating bottles, caught flsh and had them at our meals, and ou the ' whole had the time of our lives.?. George Cooper, in the New York Tri? 1 bune. * 1 Robin's Xcst in Railroad Van, J In a fold of the canvas covering of the Great Eastern Railway deliv! ery van at Billericay a robin has built 1 her nest and laid three eggs. Nest and eggs of course go the rounds with the van for about ten hours daily and the bird returns to the nest when the van reaches the yard agala at night.?Westminster Gazette. More than 4 00,000 persons eml? I grated from this country during ths ' year 1907. This is a much smaller i number than shown by the prjvior.9 \ : l ear.