I Aunt Diana :
The Sunshine
of the Family
QUIET, natural home
j - story, this, but full of
' 1 character and interest
for those who delight in domestic
details of life. A young girl
takes charge of a large family in
a motherlv fashion that wins re
gard, and the incidents are all
oleasingand consistent.
This serial will greatly please
home readers, and its influence
cannot help but benefit and en
noble the mind and the purer
impulses of he heart.
CHAPTER I.
There are conflicts in most lives real
hand-to-hand combats, that have to be
fought, not will any fleshly weapons, hut
with the inner forces of the being bat
tles wherein the victory is not always to
the strong, wliere the young "and the
ek und the litiiu ours Uiiiy Lc found
abiding nearest to the standards.
Such a conflict had come to Alison
Merle, breaking up the surface of her
smooth outer life, aud revealing possible
shoals and quicksands, in which many of
her brightest hopes might be wrecked.
"It is hard. I do not know that even
if Aunt Iti think it right I shall, ever
have the heart to do it," murmured Ali
son, talking to herself in her agitation,
after the manner of older folk. "I have
just rooted myself in this dear place, and
the soil suits me. I could not flourish
anywhere else; and," finished Alison,
with a quaint little smile, "sickly plants
are worth nothing."
To any ordinary spectator the interior
of that little room would have printed
a picture of perfect serenity and abso
lute comfort. Even the young creature
comfortably seated in a chair by tihe win
dow, with an "open letter and a cluster
of deep red roses lying among the folds
of her white gown, presented no disturb
ing image, though the cheek had lost its
wonted fresh colur, and the dark, dreamy
eyes had a look of doubt that was al
most pain in them.
Two years ago she had been sixteen
then, and, oh, how discontented and ill
and unhappy she had been. It was not
only the loss of her mother, it was her
own incapacity for responsibility, her
morbid dislike to her surroundings, that
hnd fretted all her fine color away.
lhange of air would do her good, and
then Aunt Iiana had come down upon
them with the freshness of a moorland
breeze.
"You must give your eldest girl to me,
Ainslie," she had said to Alison's father:
"she wants care and cherishing more than
Miss Leigh has time to give her." And,
f course. Aunt liana had her way.
Instead of the whir of machinery for
tier father's sawmills were just behind
their house Alison had now only to
listen to the soft flow of the river that
glided below the green lawns and shrub
beries of Moss-side; instead of waking
up in the morning to look across the dusty
shrubs and trees to the vast wood piles
and masses of unsawn timber, that seem
ed endlessly between her and the blue
sky, Alison's eyes had now the finest
prospect; one shaded garden seemed to
run into another, and when the willows
were thinned or bare in winter time, what
a view of the river and green meadows on
lie opposite side !
The moral surroundings were almost as
much changed. Instead of Miss Leigh's
lry method of instruction, Aunt Diana
had placed within her reach many a
pleasant short cut to knowledge, had sug
gested all sorts of enviable accomplish
ments ; money wns not stinted where Ali
on's talents could be turned to account.
In this pleasant but bracing atmos
phere Alison had thriven and grown. She
was still a tall, slim girl, somewhat youth
ful in look, but with plenty of warm life
and energy about her; and though the
dark eyes had still their old trick of
dreaming, they seemed to dream ' more
happily, and the shadow did not lie so
deep in them not, at least, until the
June afternoon, when Alison sat sighing
and visibly disturbed with her lap full of
roses. It was evident at last that she
found her thoughts too painful, for after
another half hour's intense brooding she
suddenly jumped up from her seat, scat
tering the flowers where they lay unheed
ed on the Indian matting, and walked
abruptly to the door. She had dropped
her letters, too ; but Bhe went back and
picked them up, not replacing them in
their envelopes, and then she went out
'nto the passage. .
A dark oak staircase led into a little
square hall, fitted up with bookcases like
a library, with a harmonium on one side ;
a glass door opened Into a conservatory,
through which one passed into the gar
den. Alison turned the handle of a door just
opposite the staircase, and stood for a
moment hesitating on the threshold.
What a pleasant room that was, half,
studio and half drawing room, full of
cross lights, and artistically littered with
an odd jumble, of medieval and modern
furniture oak chairs and cabinets, bas
ketwork longes, tiny tea tables, fit for
Liliputian princesses, and hanging cup
boards of quaint old china that gave warm
coloring to the whole. Alison's eyes were
still fixed on a lady' who stood with her
back toward her, painting at an easel.
"Well, child, what now?" The voice
was nicely modulated, clear and musical,
but the manner slightly abrupt.
Alison came forward at once and in
spected Che picture. "It is very pretty,
Aunt Ii,'' she said, forgetting her own
worries in a moment. "It is one of your
best. I think I see what you mean, but
to me it is all beautiful ; that old man
a pensioner, is he not? and that poor,
tired sheep, that seems to have dropped
down by the way, left behind by the
flock, is so suggestive of the title, 'Noon
tide Rest."
"That is what I intended. Ton are
an intelligent child, Ailie; both the man
and the sheep must be old ; it is not for
young creatures to rest at noontide ; my
old pensioner has already borne the bur
den and heat of the day."
"Of course, I see what you mean,
Aunt Di."
"My parable is not hard to read," re
plied Miss Carrington, with a smile, but
as Alison studied the picture with in
creased interest and admiration, a pair
of shrewd, kindly eyes were studying the
girl's face.
"Go and put yourself in that easy
chair opposite, and tell me all about it,"
she said at last, rousing her by a good
humored little push. "I must finish this
branch if I am to enjoy my night's rest,
but I can listen to any amount of let
tered woes," with a suggestive glance at
Alison's hand.
"Oh, Aunt Di, how do you find out
things so?" stammered Alison ; then, as
though used to obedience, she moved to
the chair that was always reserved for
Miss Carrington's visitors, whom she was
wont to entertain after a fasliiuu of her
own.
"I wonder how long I am to have pa
tience," observed Miss Carrington, paint
ing on industriously, as Alison sat with
drooping head, looking at her letters, with
out offering to read them. "I am quite
sure those are Rudel's straggling charac
ters ; that boy's handwriting is a disgrace
to the family; it has put him out of my
will forever; fancy one's nephew being
such a sorry scribe."
"Rudel does write badly," returned Ali
son, with a faint little smile, "but I like
his letters better than Missie's ; there is
one from Miss Leigh, too; do you admire
her handwriting, Aunt Di?"
"No ; it is too thin and angular," re
turned Miss Carrington, severely; "it
wants freedom and breadth ; it reminds
me too much of Miss Leigh herself."
"I do not think we are any of us very
fond of her," interrupted Alison. "I know
she fidgets father dreadfully, and Roger,
too. though he is so good to her."
"Roger is good to everyone but him
self," responded Miss Carrington ; "but
even he, with all his good nature, has
owned to me that Miss Leigh has a very
trying manner. You see, Alison, fussy
peoiple make poor companions. Miss
Leigh has never leisure for anything but
her own worries ; she is too overweighted
for cheerful conversation ; if she could
forget Poppie's misdemeanors, and Mis
sie's pertness, and Rudel's roughness,
and the servants' failures for about half
an hour at a time, I could quite fancy
Miss Leigh a pleasing companion ; but
now let me hear her letter."
"It is dreadfully long," sighed Alison,
as she reluctantly obeyed. It was evi
dent that s'he wished Miss Carrington to
read the letters for herself, but Aunt
Diana held a different opinion.
"My dear Alison," it began, "I am
afraid that my weekly account will be
little more cheering than the' last ; in
deed, I am arriving slowly at the con
viction that, unlpss gome change be made
in the household arrangements, I shall
be compelled, however reluctantly, to re
sign my post."
"Humph ! that looks bad," from Miss
Carrington.
"I have done all I can in representing
to your father the mischief that must
result from his injudicious treatment of
Mabel ; she is becoming so thoroughly
spoiled, so entirely her own mistress, that
no amount of reasoning has any effect
upon her. I do not wish to lay any un
due stress on her behavior to myself;
but her treatment of Mr. Roger, and the
bad example that she sets to Topple, not
to mention the constant bickering that is
always going on beween her and Rudel,
are quite destroying the harmony of the
household. You may imagine, my dear
Alison, how trying all this is to a person
of my sensitive temperament.
"I always said it was a black day for
ns when Miss Carrington took you away
from The Holms. .With all due deference
to your aunt's benevolence and good feel
ings, I can not help thinking that a
daughter's place is with her widowed
father. Of course, you will talk the
matter over with your aunt, and perhaps
yon may. be able to assist me to some so
lution of our difficulties.
"PATIENCE LEIGH."
"Patience has changed to Impatience,"
muttered Miss Carrington, grimly. "Sen
sitive people never own to being out of
temper, but I should have said myself
thnt there was a spice of ill-temper in
that letter. Poor Miss Leigh is decided
ly ruffled."
"She never could manage Missie ; I al
ways knew that," returned Alison, sor
rowfully. "And how old Is Mabel, or Mlssle, as
you call her?"
"Sixteen last birthday, Aunt Diana."
"Humph 1 there Is not a more trouble
some age."
"Aunt DI, I have something very seri
ous to say. These letters came two or
three days ago, and I have been thinking
nbout them ever Blnce. I do believe Miss
Leigh Is right in what she says, and that
I am shirking my duty."
"Since when?" a little dryly.
"Since I got quite'yvell and strong and
hn.ppy, about a year ago," returned All
son, answering most literally. "I ought
to have gone back then, and not have
stopped on here quietly, taking the good
of everything, and enjoying myself Just
as though I bid no duties, and no place
in life. It is all my fault if Missie is
getting the upper hand, and making ev
ery ohe uncomfortable. I ought to go
borne to father and Roger."
There was no immediate answer to
this, but in another moment Miss Car
rington had walked to her slowly, and
then, standing beside her, her hand strok
ed the girl's hair with a mute caressing
gesture. "Do not cry about it, Allie,"
she said presently ; but her own voice
was not quite so clear as usual. "It is
not a thing to be decided in it hurry ; we
must look at. it all around; impulse is
never a sure guide. No one is quite their
own mistress, even at eight ecu, and I
am afraid you will have to ak my leave,
unless you prefer running away."
"Oh, will you let me go, Aunt Di?'
with a sudden start of joy, as though the
knots that her conscience had tied were
suddenly cut through in a most unexpect
ed way.
"My dear, if it be right I will help you
to go," was the expressive but somewhat
curt answer to this ; but as she spoke.
Miss Carrington's hands pressed the girl's
bead a little heavily.
"Now," she continued, with a visible
effort, "we must put all these trouble
some things away fpr the present ; there
is the dressing bell, and we have only
time to get ready for dinner, and you
know it is our evening at Fi-rnleigh, and
we shall have to be cheerful for Mr.
Moore's sake."
CHAPTER II.
An hour and a half later Miss Carring
ton and her niece were walking quickly
down one of the garden paths until they
name to a little gate set in t!;e hHg; un
latching it, they passed into a neighbor
ing garden, and then turned their faces
In the direction of a low white house,
with a veranda running all round it, and
roses in profusion running over it. As
they did so, the notes of a violin, evi
dently played by a practiced hand, reach
ed them. Miss Carrington's face bright
ened, and, making a gesture to her com
panion to move softly, she stepped up to
a window and looked through it. The
roomf if it were a drawing room, was al
most as heterogeneously furnished as her
own, but it bore the character of a li
brary. Two of the walls were lined with
bookcases ; a grand piano and a harmo
nious occupied Bome of the space ; there
was a round table littered with books,
and a superfluity of easy chairs in every
stage of comfort, arranged more with a
view to ease than appearance. A nearer
inspection would have pointed out certain
bachelor arrangements some costly Turk
ish pipes ; a pair of pistols, splendidly
mounted; some silver cups and tankards,
with various inscriptions on them, all en
graved with the name of Greville Moore,
and purporting to be certain prizes in
the half-mile race, the high jump, throw
ing the cricket ball and other feats of
prowess, performed by some youthful ath
lete. - An elderly man, w'ith a long white
beard and mustache, in a black velvet
coat, sat with his back to the light, play
ing the violin. His face, seen in repose,
was clear cut and handsome, in spite of
tihe deep lines that time and perhaun
many cares bad traced upon it ; but his
eyes were cast down, as though in deep
meditation, an, habitual action, for Mr.
Moore had been blind half his life.
He was playing from memory an ex
quisite fugue from Bach. The thin, some
what wrinkled hand handled the bow with
a precision, a delicacy, a masterly knowl
edge, that seemed surprising in his situa
tion. Apparently he was lost himself in
enjoyment of the Bweet sounds that he
had conjured up In his darkness, for a
smile played round his Hps as the har
mony widened and vibrated, and his foot
softly moved as though in unison. In a
moment the fugue was ended and the bow
lowered.
"Is that you, Sunny? Little witch,
why have you stolen a march on the
blind man? Of course, you have flown
through the window."
"Aunt Diana set me the example," re
truned Alison, demurely. "How do you
do again, Mr. Moore?"
"Oh, nicely, nicely ; time always passes
quickly with me in my own special world,
Have you given your, aunt her favorite
chair? How does the picture progress.
Miss Dinna? Sunny tells me it is one of
your best."
"Would you have me praise my owu
work?" returned Miss Carrington, bright
ly. "I must leave you to Alison's criti
cism. I hope to do something good be
fore I die, and if I do not succeed, well,
my life will have been happier for the
trying."
' (To be continued.)
Drum and the Drulu.
Most people believe thnt drugs af
fect the 'brnin. Yet this nppnrently Is
not so,, according, to physicians. Drugs
no more affect the brain than
does Insanity that la, not at nil ! ex
eept alcohol, which does' Injure the
brnln, though not nt nil on account of
Its incntul efferts, but for the very
different renson that alcohol has a
chcmicnl affinity for the nlbumen nnd
fats of the tissues. By this chemical
action it slowly alters and damages
brnln Itssue, but this result ' In no
wise differs from similar alterations
produced by alcohol in the tissues of
the liver and of the kidneys. Tobac
co Is a powerful poison, and yet no
autopsies can show the yenst differ
ence between the brain of a lifelong
smoker and thnt of one who never lit
a cigar. Likewise, the brain of an
opium fiend is Indistinguishable from
any other brnln, ami so on for tho
rest. Drugs do affect the mind and
will power, but not the brain substanct
itself.
SOMETHING FOR EVERYBODY
The annual wenr and tear on tin,
vorld's currency Is estimated nt twu
tons of gold and 100 tons of silver.
In nil the civilized countries of the
world (H) Kr cent of the persons over
10 years old have to work for a living.
There are In the State of New York
forty-three vlllnges of between 1,000
and 2.000 inhabitants which have free
libraries.
The Films evidently have not found
woman suffrage a failure. Nineteen
women were elected to their first Par
liament. Now twenty-live have Just
leen elected to the Becond.
Berlin opened a rink on Sept. 1 for
ice skating all the year round. This
inal.es the fourth pi-niiment Ice rink
in Europe, others being operated In
London, Paris nnd Munich.
The ivory nut, wnlch is so much
used by button manufacturers. Is the
fruit of a species of palm which grows
In Central and South America. It
forms a valuable crop, particularly In
Panama, Colombia, Ecuador and Peru.
A German statistician lias calculated
that the steam power In present use on
this globe Is equal to 120,001 MM 10 horse,
power. The coal needed to supply this
steam for a year would make a freight
train extending ten times around the
earth.
1-roiii .Mora conies u story of sugar
beets more than two feet long and
weighing only n trifle less than twelve
pounds. There are said to be two of
these mounter tulicrs there, and It is
claimed they were grown on the farm
of a native who lives several miles up
the valley from the town of Mora. Las
Vegas (N. M.) Optic.
The fact that five Paris dally papers
are nt present publishing serial stories
translated from the English reminds us
of n capital error which appeared In
some such translation a short time ago.
The English author hnd written : "-'I lobe-he!
laughed Jones." The French pa
per rendered this ns: " 'Lul-lul-lul !' rla
Jones." "Lul" is the personal pronoun
"he." London Punch.
The first recorded production of h
play in Australia took place in Juno
of the yenr ITS!). It wns called "The
Recruiting Ollicer." The proceeds of the
first pay night (some 20) went to the
family of a man who had been drown
ed. In January, -4790, a rough and
ready playhouse was opened and the
public hnd to pay one shilling a head
for admission. The payments were
made In kind, wheat, flour or rum tak
ing the place of the usual currency.
London Standard.
Don't mark your stationery any
longer with n monogram. That Is out
of diite. The latest symbol Is the
thumb mark. It is engraved lu gold or
silver and has nil the value of n Ber
tlllon mark of Identification. Stntlon
ers who have Introduced this way of
marking use the prints in the center of
a correspondence card nnd nliout half
an Inch from the top to make them
most effective. The thumb Is some
times printed In red or blue, although
the metal colors are more popular.
New York Sun.
Mrs. Rertha Ayrton has succeeded In
ascertaining the cause of the refractory
behavior of the searchlight In certain
respects and in devising a remedy. The
British admiralty called on Prof. Ayr
fon to Investigate the trouble some time
ago. After making ninny Investigations
he turned the problem over to his wife,
who is the only woman member of the
Institute of Electrical Engineers and
who .received (he only medal ever
awarded to n woman by the Royal So
ciety of London for original unaided
work.
The Congregational parsonage at Kit
(cry Is one of (lie oldest houses In the
State of Maine. It 'Is the oldest ecclesi
astical residence In the State, nnd the
oldest one In present use In New Eng
land. The house wns built In 1729, In
the days of Hon. William Peperell,
father of Sir William Pepperell. It
contnlns the library bequeathed by Sir
William to Dr. Itenjainln Stevens, for
forty years minister of the Klttery
Point church. Dr. Stevens In his turn
bequeathed the library to the Congrega
tional ministers of Klttery nnd York
for nil time. Many of these books con
tain the Pepperell coat-of-arms. Ken
'lebec (Me.) Journal.
In Henderson County, Cain Cox, five
miles from Athens, has not only ad
hered to diversification In nil Its forms,
raiding fruit, tomatoes and the cereal
and hay crops, ns well as some cotton,
but ho hns been Investing some money
In other experiments, some of which
are about to turn out very profitably.
One of his side experiments has been
uliiionils, he having put In quite a num
ber of the young trees nbout live years
ago. The trees nre now well grown
nnd nre hearing line nlmomls, though
not ns Inrgo nor ns flue ns the import
ed variety. The trees bore a few
almonds last year nnd many more this'
year, nnd by another yenr Mr. Cox
thinks he will get n crop large enough
to market. Houston Tost
Baking Ana-rl Food.
A woman whose angel food Is fa
mous says that there are a few things
, she always lienrs In mind when prepar
I lug this delectable cake. The oven must
ne slow nt first, but one thnt gradually
Increases In temperature. Quite unlike
the case-when baking other cake, the
oven door mny be opened without dan
ger of affecting the cake; this makes
It much simpler to adjust the heat of
the oven. The pan in which It Is baked
must be most carefully lined with par
affin paper. If the cake Is bnked two
or three days before It Is to be eaten
It will be better.
Time to Cook Flh.
Snlmon, about ten minutes to each
pound.
Cod, about ten minutes to each x
pound.
Turbot, about ten minutes to each
pound.
Flounders, about five minutes.
Fresh haddocks, eight to lifteen mln.
ntes.
Small lobster, from twenty to 'thirty
minutes.
Small mackerel, nbout ten minutes.
Whiting, nbout five minutes.
Smiill soles, about five minutes.
Trout, from five to ten minutes.
Ralaln Padding.
One teacupful of suet, minced fine,,
add four teacups of flour, one-halfl
pound raisins, one tencup molasses, a,
toaspoonftil baking powder, scant cup:
of milk, with salt and cinnamon to
flavor. Roll two and one-half hours ohdj
serve with brandy sauce. Three-fourVjs
cup sugnr, small piece butter, table
spoon flour, two teaspoonfuls brandy,
one cup boiling water. Serve hot over
ouddlng.
Devil's Food. -
One cup of sugar and a half-cup of
butter, creamed ; two eggs, well' beaten ;
! one cup of grated chocolate. Pour one
half cup of boiling water on the choco-
. late and let It stand until cool; add a.
half-cup of sour milk, the sugnr and
butter nnd eggs, a teaspoonful of soda
dissolved in a tablespoonful of boiling
, wafer, two cups of flour and vanilla to
taste. Mix well and bake In a loaf tin.
Pineapple Tapioca.
Soak one cup tapioca over night Ik
plenty of water. In the morning put
on and cook until clear. Add one pine
apple (or one can) cut In pieces, three
cups sugar, Juice of two lemons and
cook. Just before taking off the Are
odd the whites of three eggs bentc-i
Bflff and stir through thoroughly. Chill
and serve with whipped or plain cream
lleefateak with Cream,
Take beefsteak free from fat; chop
fine; cook with little water half an
hour. Then add sntf, pepper and but
ter, with a tablespoon of flour worked
in thoroughly, then a generous lot of
cream; let boll a few minutes and
serve hot. Dried beef or cold meats
'an be substituted.
Chined Salad Drrailna.
For a cheese salad dressing, work,
two tahlespoonfuls of soft grated
cheese until It is smooth. Season with
salt and paprika and moisten thorough
ly with vinegar nnd oil. This Is deli
cious on egg or lettuce salad.
linked Apple.
Ill bnklug apples cut out the cor&,
stick In u few cloves, and fill vncant
space with sugar. Add a little water
to the pan when baking, and' when they
are done they will have the taste of
penrs. Delicious with cream.
Peach and Prar Salad.
Pare, slice und arrange on a cIokl
dish, In alTernato layers, the peaches
and penrs (Burtlett or Seckel), with
whipped cream und sugnr between.
Stand them on the Ice half an hour be
fore serving.
Urn ii II rend.
One quart clean brun, one pint whit
flour, one pint sweet milk, bIx ounces
New Orleans molasses, one egg, two
teaspoonfuls bicarbonate sodu. Buke
In gem tins.
Well to Itemember,
When burning vegetable refuse lh
stove or furnace, put a handful of salt
Into the fire and there will be no un
pleasant odor.
lllce and HalNlna.
Three cups of boiling wuter, one cup
sweet milk, one cup rice, one-half cup
iced I ess rulslns. Mix and cook in dou
ble boiler.
To Keep Uroken Gggi.
Take off shell and beat In a quartet
teaspoonful of salt Cun be used for
cuke or anything.
Short Saicicrt lone.
Cutting onions, turnips and carrots
across the fiber makes them more ten
der when cooked