Tthe charity oirlT
I By EFFIE A. ROWLANDS I
Mrs. Thorngate wits waiMng for her,
anil came up to hor nt once. At tho first
glimpse of her sweet, motherly face Au
drey's nervousness went. The vicar's
wife spoke cheerfully and kindly to tha
girl, and ns they walked out of the
station together her thoughts were very
Inisy.
"What could George ha been think
in S about when he spok- of this child
:is 'nice looking?' Why, th words are
lieresy when used to deser'be hor face!
Poor soul! 1 am sorry for t.er ! Such
leanty in her station of life does not
mean happiness."
Audrey found herself rpwking quite
naturally ami easily to this kind man-
luuvd woman, and answered nil the (pies
lions Mrs. Thorng.ite put to her in her
fresh, clear voice and refined tones.
Hut whatever the vicar's wife was
turning over in her mind it was never
permitted to ripen, for just as they were
l assing in at the rectory i.ir'lc n a pret
ty place even in the chill February weath
t a young lady, mount ;d on a bay
horse with bhek points, .ind attended
!y a smart groom, ro.le swiftly along the
road. She drew rein as she saw Mrs
Thorngate.
"(rood morning," she cried, !n a clear.
rather hard voice. "Have yea seen any
thing of Lord John? They 'ell me he
came a cropper just by Pelf Woods, and
went back by train to get 'mother mount,
ns he had lamed old Hector. You have
not seen him, Mrs. Thorngate? Pear me,
how tiresome! The day is quite hot,
and we shaped the have such a rattling
good run."
"It is a pity," Mrs. Thorngate assent
ed heartily, for in her youth she had been
a first rate sportswoman, and fhe sym
pathized with the girl's disappointment
warmly ; "but can't you cardi them up
somewhere, Miss Fraser? Where was
the meet?"
CHAPTER III.
Sheila Fraser explained fverj thing in
lier sharp way, and Audrey, standing
modestly in the background, looked In
admiration and surprise at tbe neat, well
turned figure sitting easily iu the saddle,
at the small, oval face under the straight
lut brim, and the coil of red gold hair
at the nape of the neck.
How pretty this Miss Fraser was! Her
teeth were so even and si white, her
cheeks so rosy warm in color; only her
eyes seemed cold and hard. They moved
about quickly, and to Audrey were just
like sharp nevrlles.
"I rode back to inquire after Lord
John at his mother's reniest, because
pome one said he was really bi?rt. Now,
I wish I had not been so r.uixotie. I
really don't quite know what I shall do."
Miss Fraser tapped her smr-U foot with
her whip impatiently, and then frowned.
The wind had blown the ve'l over Au
drey's face again, but she could see
through it easily, and she did not like
that frown, it made the eyes irore sharp
and cruel than before.
"I suppose it is no use n'k.ng you to
have some luncheon with me," Mrs. Thorn
gate said, and then, all at once, she re
membered Audrey, and uttered an ex
clamation. "I very nearly forgot." she
paid, turning to Miss Fraser, "your new
maid has arrived. This is she.''
Sheila Fraser looked carelessly at the
Blender form in its black clonk and ail.
"Oh!" she said shortly; she paused a
moment, and then addressing Audrey,
'you had better go up to Pinglewood at
once; ask Blrcham ; she will tell you
what your duties are, and tr what is
your name?" .
"Maxse Audrey Maxse," Mrs. Thorn
gate replied, quickly.
"Well er Maxse, you must alter
your dress. That funeral cl ak and veil
are simply absurd. Please see to that at
once."
Miss Fraser bent from her saddle to
ask one or two questions coniic'entially of
the vicar's wife, and then her fice flushed,
and she uttered an exclamai;on of pleas
ure. "Here he is. after all !" is a horse
man came fleetly toward them.
Jack Gleudurwood pulled up with a
jerk.
"Halloo, Sheila, you here? Why, I
thought you would have been at Sher
wood Powns, at least, by this time."
He was thoroughly well e'eansed of
all mud, and looked as speck f.nd span as
Miss Fraser herself, as he temoved his
hat and greeted Mrs. Thorngate.
"Heard you had a cropper, and, as
your mother was anxious, I rode back
to see what was left of yo.i," Sheila re
plied in a curt, somewhat mumline man
ner. "Poor mother," he said, lightly. "Well,
Ibe best thing we can do is to tear down
to Welland ! The hounds w-nt through
there a few minutes ago, 1 heard; I
thought I might catch them up here, but
as they have not come this way, we are
Iiretty sure of tumbling in with them in
that direction."
He looked eager to be off, and his eyes
Tiever went toward the gate where Audrey
stood, shrinking back Bhyly, in her black
jrarinents. A few more words exchanged
and the two young people rede off, and
Mrs. Thorngate came up o Audrey.
"Well, how do you like your young
mistress' looks?" she asked, Vrdly.
Audrey paused for a moment, then in a
numb sort of way she answered :
"She is very pretty, I think."
"Miss Frase is the acknowledged beau
ty of these parts she is an heiress. Pin
glewood is a lovely place. I hope you
will get on well with her, cj dear, and
be happy in your new home."
Miss Fraser came home very tired
about 6 o'clock, and found Pircharo, her
first maid, carefully instructing the new
comer in the various duties ixpected of
her. Audrey, mindful of her mistress'
commands, had put on her only other
(town, a thick gray one of rough material,
with neat collar and cuffs, and a black
ribbod apron. Her hair was brushed
etraight off her face, and rolled in a huge
knot at the back of her exquisitely shaped
head. She was pale, but her eyes were
hiniDg with admiration and ct:rprine and
aome excitement. Never, in Ler wildest
I dreams, had she conjured up so many
lovely things as were massed together in
Sheila Fraser's apartments, with their
silken hangings, their dainty furniture,
costly oruanietits, and the hundred and
one appointments which finished every
corner.
"It Is like fairyland," Audrey said
over and over again in her bewilderment.
She hardly liked to tread on the Per
sian rugs and furs thrown on the floor,
and she held her breath as she stood be
side the ivory toilet table, and gazed at
the brushes and array of bottles and oth
er knickknacks in old Puteh s'.'ver.
"If Jean could but see them!" was
her thought.
She was quite dazed with nil the love
liness about her, and gave little cries of
surprise and delight ns Hicham lighted
the piuk-globed lamps and st'rred the fire
into a blaze.
She felt It must be some delicious,
heaven-sent dream,, and ih-it presently
she should wake and find herself in her
cold, hard bed at the home, the bell
clanging the time to rise.
Sheila's arrival dispelled this feeling,
and, as the young lady entered, she seem
ed to bring a rush of cold air with her
that destroyed the illusion of fairyland.
"My bath at once!" she ordered, sharp
ly; and then, looking aenss at Audrey,
she added : "You must remember to have
it always ready for me when I have been
out hunting, Maxse. Bircham, you have
told her everything?"
"Yes, miss, everything."
"Let her remain here an! watch yon
to-night."
Audrey stood In a dusky corner with
her hands folded, as Miss Ftaser, having
plunged into her bath and th is refreshed
and invigorated herself, sit before the
long, ivory-mounted duchesse mirror, and
put herself into Bircham's hands to have
her hair dressed.
Audrey thought she had tjever seen
anything so beautiful ns Slvvla Fraser's
hair; every thread seemed of burnished
gold as the brush went through it, and
the lamp light shone on it, and when by
and by her young mistress slood adorned
for dinner in a black crepe gown, with
diamonds glittering in her wavy tresses
and around her white throat, the girl
was quite dazed.
It had been such a long. t onderful day,
full of such agitation and so many new
experiences.
CHAPTER IV.
Audrey woke with a start the next
morning, and her first thought was how
angry Miss Irons would be that she was
late. The faint, golden rays of the Feb
ruary sun were streaming in through the
sides of the blind ; the bell was not ring
ing. She looked about her in a dazed,
mechanical fashion, sitting np in bed,
with her mass of black hair tossed loosely
on her shoulders.
Where was she? Surely that was not
Jean's bed in the other .j.rnsr? Jean
never snored like that. She rubbed her
eyes, shivered a little with the cold, and
then was wide awake. She was not in
her old bedroom, but in her new, and
that sleeping form across in the other
corner was not Jean's small, thin one,
but the large-boned, heavy frame of
Bircham, her fellow-servant.
She shut the door quietly and went
down stairs, and brushed away briskly
at the riding habit and other garments
for a good half hour; then, with a shy
laugh, she determined to go on to the
servants' quarters and reconnoiter.
"I must meet the others sooner or
later," she thought.
A rosy cheeked housemaid was busy
with her broom and stopped to courtesy
as she saw what she took to be a guest
coming down the wide oaken staircase
there were always two or three strangers
at Pinglewood. Audrey was gazing out
of her lovely dark blue yes with deep
pleasure and interest at the fresh won
ders that met her gaze at every turn ;
her young, buoyant, nervously excitable
heart thrilled as with delight at the carv
ed oaken panels, the full-Ietigtb costume
portraits, the figures in armor that stood
in their niches, as though gunrding the
old house as their dead and gone wearers
did in the days of yore. Th.? housemaid's
respectful courtesy first proroked a smile
and then a little sigh.
"I want to find the kitchen ; am I
going wrong?" she said, and tlen she put
out her hand. "I am the new maid, Au
drey Maxse! Shall we be friends? What
is your name? If it is like your face
it is sure to be nice."
The housemaid stared at her in amaze
ment; but when she saw (hat Audrey
still held out her hand, she put her own
rough palm into it, while she grinned
good naturedly.
"I baint bad frens with no one, I
baint, and I likes you! Whv, I took you
for a lady. There ! My -.lame's 'Lisa.
What's yourn. did you say?"
Audrey explained all that was neces
sary, and then Eliza showed ter the way
to the housekeeper's room, the servants'
ha'll and the kitchen.
"You come down the wrong stairs,"
she said. "Them's the ones you must
use," pointing to her right. "Here's the
kitching. My ! Don't the brtkkus smell
nice? Ain't you 'ungry? You must eat
a lot, and then you'll get red cheeks.
Here's Mr. Powns!" and Elira broke off
to giggle, as a yonng man a very good
imitation of a gentleman sauntered in
through the open doorway that led to
the courtyard, thence to the stables and
the kitchen garden beyond. "He'a Lord
John's valley," she whispered in a loud
toice to Audrey, "and such a swell!"
Mr. Downs smiled with :meh superi
ority as he caught Eliza's ingenuous tone
of admiration. He was soon chaffing and
joking with her, while Audrey, who felt
an indescribable vexation and dislike aris
ing within her at the man's presence,
went to the doorway and walked out
into the courtyard. It so clear
and fresh in the cold morning air that
he soon lost ber vague disMmfort, and
fx-gm to make friends with t'r.e half dozen
dogs of every sort and description, who
came from the stables to Inquire into
tha new arrival. A voice from behind
broks her silence, and, turning, with a
frown, she saw that Downs had followed
her.
"You'll get cold out here,, miss," tha
young man said, fixing his eyes on her
exquisite face with astonished admira
tion; "and you're much too pretty "
Audrey drew herself up. She was very
young, and she had. never had occasion
to feel' the sort of angry resentment
that this man's hold stare awakened in
her breast. She was too neryous to make
any reply, but she turned lound quickly
and went indoors before he knew what
she wns doing.
"Oh! That's her sort. Is it V" observed
Mr, Henry Powns to himself. "Who's
she, I'd like to know, though she' Is so
pretty, to give herself airs i'ke a queen?
Well, we'll soon take that out of her, or
my name ain't Powns."
And, dispensing a few kicks to the
dogs, the man walked away down the
courtyard to give his master's order to
the head groom.
Audrey, to her great relief, found that
a message had come for her to go to Miss
Fraser's room at ones, t'heila Fraser
was lying in her luxuriant td. her red
go ij hair thrown over the pillows in pity
turesque confusion as Audrey entered.
"Light my fire nt once," she ordered,
sharply; "then pull up the blind, and give
me those papers and letters, Maxse."
Audrey stirred the smol lering embers
into a blaze, threw some wood on to it,
and then drew back the silken curtains.
Miss Fraser took the letters anr stared at
the girl.
"I don't think I shall ':ke this girl."
she said to herself. "She is evidently
t upid, and stares at one in nn uncanny
fashion. Go to Mrs. Fraser's room
you know where it is give her my love,
and ask how she is this morning," she
said, shortly.
She lay quite still as Audrey went
ov ay, then, with a sudden movement, she
slipped from the bed, went across the rich
carpet to the mirror, and gazed silently
at her own image. Never before, in the
whole of her life, had she ever viewed
her own reflection with anything but
pleasure. What was it that jarred her
uow? Not only the lack of symmetry
in feature, the difference in coloring
was it not a certain air of unaccounta
ble refinement a something that bespoke
the patrician in Audrey's face, and that
was wanting in her own?
She was not patrician hon she was
of the people. Her father had been a
hard-headed Scotch merchant, born of re
spectable Scotch tradesfolk ; her mother
the rich and only daughter r-l a Cumber
land brewer. They were wealthy, they
had land, they had retinues of servants,
but still they were beyond the sacred
inner social round. Sheila o'.ild remem
ber distinctly the days before her moth
er's death ; she was ouly a g'rl of eight,
but she was wonderfully sharp and pre
cocious for her years. Mrs. Fraser had
no other children. She was an unloved
wife, her ambitions did not keep pace
with those of her husband, and the rift,
begun almost immediately after the mar
riage, widened and widened until they
were virtually separated altogether.
George Fraser neither felt nor pretended
to feel any sorrow when his wife died,
lie was considerably enriched by her for
tune. (To be continued.)
His .Mistake.
Fred The ways of women are past
all understanding.
Jack What's the trouble new?
Fred While I was in the parlor
alone with Miss Pinklelgh, she lowered
the gas, and, thinking It was i' hint for
me to propose, I did so, but she refused
tue.
Jack Huh! Y'ou ought to have
known that negatives are always devel
oped In dark rooms.
Conrage Promoter).
"Women," remarked Weddcrly, "sue
a great Incentive to manly courage."
"What's the explanation ?" queried his
friend Singleton.
"Well," replied Wedderly, "since I'ro
been up against the matrimonial game
and had a few little tilts with my wife,
the prospect of a scrap with the tough
est citizen In town seems like mere
child's play to, me."
Slow March of Manic.
It takes time for some operas to
come to England, but Gluek's "Armide,"
beloved of Marie Antoinette, probably
establishes a record in this respect. To
be exact,, "Armide" produced at Co
vent Garden last night has taken 120
years to reach our shores since its In
itial production In Paris. London
Dally Mall.
In Boston.
For nice distinctions In the use of
the English language even the Phila
delphia lawyer might learn something
from certain street car conductors of
Boston. Thoughtlessly and lightheart
edly I said to a conductor the other
day: "Do you go to Blank street?"
Tbe answer came: "No, but this car
passes that street."
nriurht Modern Thievery.
A new idea In stealing was reported
to the Kansas City prosecuting attor
ney. A woman gave her feather beds
to a cleaner, weighing the feathers be
fore and after, and found that they
came some thirty pounds short. It Is
not possible that there could have been
thirty pounds of dirt in them, so she
claimed that that amount was stolen.
Perhapa.
She They say the darkest Lour is
Just before the dawn. Why?
He I think it has something to do
with the increased difficulty experi
enced In finding the keyhole. Cleve
land Plain iM-aler.
The I anal Variety.
Jaggles Is his flying machine a suc
cess? Waggles Half way so. It always
comes down flying. Puck.
-No Tragedy.
The engineer was asleep.
Happily no tragedy followed.
It was time to le off duty and he was
In his bed. Philadelphia Ledger.
The crown of Portugal Is valued at
$0,500,000, a world'! record for crowns.
ONE OF COLORADO'S WONDERS.
i ii - 1 1 ii r-' if fe ' -ii 1 1 frt iH i,
MOUNT OF THE HOLY CROSS.
Justice has only recently been done to one of the most majestic moun
tains of Colorado. For some years a persistent rumor has been afloat that
the famous Mount of the Holy Cross had suffered an accident In the shape of
a rock slide which had destroyed one of the arms of the cross, or rather had
filled up one of tbe transverse canons and excluded the enow therefrom, thus
obliterating a portion of the cross. Photographs showing this defect have
actually been made, but a short time ago the Denver and Rio Grande Rail
road 6ent its photographers, W, H. Jackson, the noted landscape artist of
Detroit, and George L. Beam of Denver, on a trip to the wonderful Holy
Cross region, for the purpose of proving or disproving the statement as to
the partial destruction of the cross.
Leaving the town of Red Cliff, after an Immense amount of hard trav
eling through an almost unbroken wilderness, the summit of Notch Mountain,
a long and Jagged eminence directly opposite the Mount of the Holy Cross,
was reached, and from the first point of view one of the arms of the cross
did appear to be missing. However, on bearing to the right and rising higher
a fine thread of snow became visible on that portion of the summit, and after
continuing in this direction for some distance the entire left arm appeared
and it was found that the cross was as complete and beautiful as ever.
A comparison of the new photographs with the first one ever made, which
Mr. Jackson took thirty-three years ago, shows practically no change even
in the spots of snow on the mountain, to say nothing of any alterations In
the masses of rock of which It Is composed. Evidently the story of the
demolition was started by persons who had not ascended to the proper height
or at the proper point to obtain the full view of the cross. Doubtless this
magnificent mountain will retain Its shape and remain one of the wonders
of America for many generations to come. Toledo Blade.
MEMORIES OF THE FARM.
When I was a boy we had one unfall
lnjr iob husking corn. We husked all
winter. We husked from crop to crop.
It was like a curse on my lire, it
was the unfailing remedy for the least
appearance of laziness. "Go down to
the north field and husk a few bushels
cu corn." That was the order and It
had to be obeyed. And with a com
crop running into the billions of bush
els they still husk It by hand. Why
doesn't somebody who is sorry for
farmer boys, invent something? Bush
nell, in Cincinnati Post.
SILENCE CLUB OF PARIS.
Members Do Not Talta Unless They
Have Something to Say.
"It la not surprising that the first
year of the Silence Club of Paris has
closed with such gratifying results that
the club may be said to have achieved
success In its decidedly unique sphere
of usefulness," remarked a psycholo
gist to a Washington Star man.
"I look for similar clubs to be es
tablished In this country among the
cult s tnelr foundation and purpose
Is anything but a Joke or of a freakish
nature. The idea is new In this coun
try, however, though the success of the
Paris Institution will give It an Im
petus among the advanced thinkers
among us and those who have made
the interesting problem of mental phil
osophy a critical or a pastime study.
"The niles of the society do not call
for absolute silence, but the members
are supposed not to talk unless they
have something to say. Chatter Is ab
solutely tabooed. Each member pledges
himself to avoid noisy places and par
MiriHnn In nubile demonstrations. At
a recent meeting the members declared
that since they had Joined the club
their nervous systems were In much
fetter condition than before they be
came members.
"Of course such a club could not be
composed of the fair sex, even though
they were all devout believers In and
followers of psychological teachings. A
congregation composed of silent women
would be Impossible of conception, and
while our fair sisters may experience
chagrin that they are to be shut out of
participating In any form of club- life
among themselves that Is also Indulged
la by their brothers, this U one form
of assembly that bars them out. Neith
er would politicians be eligible for
membership, unless as a disciplinary
measure.
"The club Is based upon the sound
psychological principle of not doing
unnecessary things or calling tho brain
cells Into play by unnecessary thought.
In practical everyday life this princi
ple Is exemplified In the establishment
of retreats among certain of the relig
ious creeds to which members may re
pair for meditation and rest, and In
medical circles It is shown in another
form In the so-called rest cure. If one
wishes to enter Into a study of a mild
form of this particular principle let
him consider the nmount of wasted en
ergy, physical and mental, that the av
erage person each day expends In need
less talk and needless action; It will
be found to be prodigious.
All rules of mechanics converge to
the concentration of force and the
elimination of waste energy. In hu
man affairs generally every Individual
endeavors to expend as much energy
as he can iu the simplest as In the
greatest of his endeavors, seeming to
think that the more force he puts Into
an act, a thought or a speech the bet
ter It Is."
The Kara of Insects.
Simply because a bee has no ears on
the sides of Its head It is no sign what
ever that It is wholly without Rome
sort of an auditory nerve. This Is
proved by the fact that grasshoppers,
crickets, locusts and files all have their
ears situated In queer places under
the wings, on .the middle of the body
and even on the sides of their legs.
The common house fly does Its hearing
by means of some little rows of corpus
cles which are situated on the knobbed
threads which occupy the place which
are taken up by the hind wings of oth
er sj)ecles of Insects. The garden slug
or shelless snail has Its organs of hear
ing situated on each side of Its neck,
and the common grasshopper has them
on each of Its broad, flat thighs. In
some of the smaller Insects they are
at the bases of the wings and In others
on the bottom of the feet. Scranton
Truth.
Queer Thing: In Kanaan.
A Kansas City man has Just suc
ceeded In getting a patent on an elec
tric motor fastened on a cow's back,
the electricity being generated by a
dynamo attached to her tall. It strains
the milk and hangs up the pall and
the strainer. A small phonograph ac
companies the outfit and yells "So!"
when the cow moves. If she kicks a
hinged arm catches the milk stool and
lams her over the back. Osawatomle
Globe.
Ilia Normal One.
First Nurse The doctor says yon
must observe old Mr. Skinflint's mean
temperature.
Second Nurse lie hasn't any other
kind. Baltimore American.
Uncle Eben.
Don't criticise folk fob. not beln' sat
isfied," said Uncle Eben. "When a man
is real satisfied, he's H'ble to git de big
head an' be disagreeable." Washing
ton Star.
RAM'S HORN BLASTS.
Warning
Notes ill 11 n the Wicked
to Itenentiinee.
Give love the pow
and It will always
help.
There are still
some folks who
think that making
a noise In church is
kKS our doubts they will
kill us.
The happy Christian Is always a busy
one.
Some people never look up as long as
they can stand up.
The wider the Bible Is opened tha
harder it strlkes'at sfn.
Every land flowing with milk and
honey has giants in It.
When a lazy man looks toward heav
en, angels close the windows.
Whenever a wise man makes a mis
take It teaches him something.
TTie man who Is always going to
start to-morrow never gets there.
You can tell how much people love
the Lord by the company they keep.
The nation has no better friend than
the mother who teacues her child to
pray.
No matter how much religion we
claim to have, all that counts Is that
we live.
We are all the time making charac
ter, whether we are doing anything
else or not
Lazarus did more for the Lord with
out saying a word than Martha did
with all her bluster.
Theer Is something wrong with the
man who is more concerned about his
reputation than he Is about his charac
ter. MAP IS AID TO PEDESTRIAN.
Enjoyment for the Walker When He
la Properly Kqnlpned.
"The bicycle, and later the automo
bile, gave a great Impulse to the sale
of road maps, but," said a man who
takes his outings afoot, "useful as good
maps are to those who by such means
traverse the country maps are, as they
have always been, no less useful and
desirable for the pedestrian.
"I wouldn't dream of walking any
where without a map. The map Is not
only a guide, but It Is a companion and
friend that tells you about the country
as vou sco along. It tells you not only
precisely-where you are at whatever
moment you consult It, and the dis
tances here and there, but with the
country outlined before you and Its fea
tures marked there on the paper you
can And a far greater satisfaction In
the walk than would be possible with
out the aid of this pocket companion.
"Aside from the help the map gives
you In getting where you want to go,
halt where you will where some Invit
ing prospect attracts and open up tha
map.
"Only be sure that you hold It cor
rectly adjusted to the points of the com
pass, and- then the map will tell you
what ami of the sea or what bay or
lake it Is whose waters you see far
away to the east, or what village It is
whose church spire ywi see rising to
the north; it will tell you the name
of the brook you have Just crossed, and
of the stream you'll be coming to a mile
further along on the road.
"With a map, In short every feature
of the country near and far Is revealed
to you. You know not only where you
stand at the moment, but with Intelli
gence the country round about as far as
the eye can reach. A region new to
you, It is all the more Interesting be
cause of Its novelty, but the enjoyment
you find in it Is vastly broadened and
heightened by the Illuminating knowl
edge you gain of It from the map.
"Invaluable as a guide, the map Is
scarcely less to be esteemed In its ca
pacity of companion and friend for, tell
ing you of what you see, It makes. In
a way, most pleasantly acquainted
where otherwise you might be simply a
passing stranger." New York Sun.
Paradox leal f
A young woman who has leen doing
missionary work on the east side hail
nn experience last week that came near
ending her charitable efforts. On one
windy, cold day she met in the streets
three Itall-an children two girls and a
n0y rvho were barefooted. She stopped
ithem, and they told her that their par
ents couldn't buy them shoes, they were
so poor.
The charitably Inclined young woman
first fitted them out with stockings and
then bought them three pairs of shoes.
The children started for home looking
very happy. The next day she met on
of the girls on the street
"Won't you come and visit us?" ask
ed the elrl.
I "I'd be pleased to," said the mission
ary, who felt that what she had dona
was appreciated. "Where do you live?"
I "Oh, you'll have to go out to Engle
j wood, N. J" said the little girl. "We're
! going to move to-morrow. Papa has
bought two houses out there." New
York Sun.
Striven to Pleane.
Uncle (to little Bertie, aged 5, who
Is being taken off to bed) Good-night,
Bertie. Of course, you always remem
ber your uncles and aunts In your pray
ers? Bertie Oh, yes. Uncle Felix. Shall
I tell you what I say? "God bless
Aunty Kitty and make her thin, and
God bless Uncle James and make him
fat, and God bless Uncle Felix and "
which do you want to be fat or thin?
And many a woman's greatness l
due to the smallness of her husband.
1