THE GIRL WITH
A MILLION
By D. C.
chaptek i.
A little 1i11 in the heart of a wood was
delirioiiKly dappled with leafy shadows.
A loosely clad man, bearded and specta
cled, and a little on the right side of
foriy, nt on a camp stool before a small
field easel, and libeled the landscape at
his ease, pausing at his work now and
then and drawing hack his head to survey
It with an air of charmed appreciation.
rnr him, on the gnarled trunk of a tree
and in the shadow of a moss-grown rock,
rat a lady some teu or a dozen years
younger, leisurely torturing thread into
lace with a hooked needle.
A little way dowu the dell a boy was
clambering among the rocks, shrieking
very now and then with ecstatic news of
a beetle or a butterfly. He was a sturdy,
blw-yed, golden-haired little fellow of
fiv-e. the picture of health, and he was
ri&ta.? his limbs aud chattering to all ani
mal? and inanimate nature a delightful
boy. and all alive from his goldeu head
t fess restless feet and tips of his brown
Iio.lv finders. The mo: her snatched him
ta her arms and covered him with kisses.
Suddii!.v she looked up, flushed, halfpite
us, with a flash of tears in her eyes.
"Austin. I feel afraid. Have 1 a right
to be so happy? Has any one a right to
be .so happy? Will it last?"
"Who knows?" he answered. "Human
affairs run in averages, but then the av
erages are not individual. We have had
almost trouble enough in our time to have
paid for a little joy. Let us take it grate
fully." "Sometimes," she said, "a shadow seems
to fall upon it all the shadow of a fear."
"The shadow of the past experience.
The burned child dreads the tire. We are
burned children, both of us. Five years'
Illness and poverty out of seven years of
married life is a large allowance. And,
after all, our present happiness isn't phe
nomenal, my dear, though it looks so. We
have health, and we value it because we
have each missed it in turn. We have a
little money, and we think it a great deal
because we have been so deadly poor.
And then," he laughed and half blushed.
w hare a little fame, and that is all
the pleasanter because we were so long
neglected. Sweet is pleasure after pain."
"lam dangerously happy," she answer
ad. "Come, let 419 unpack the luncheon bas
ket Cold chicken. Salad. Bread.
Cheee. Milk. There we are. Fall to.
Bit down by your mother, Cupid. Take
a pu!3 at the milk, old man, and then
you'll have an appetite. What a sudden
aha do w.'"
A cloud had floated between themselves
mnd the sun, and a strange quiet had fall
a with the shadow on the woods.
"Austin." the wife whispered, "there is
that dreadful man again. It seems as if
be had brought the darkness with him."
A. brown sloping path, covered still
with the 6r needles shed in the foregoing
autumn, broke the wall of green which
boundfd the dell, and down this footway,
between the silver steps of the birches and
the reddish stems of the firs, walked a
fxay-b-ariJfid man. with his head drooped
forward and his hands clasped behind him.
He looked neither to left nor right, but
veeat by as if unconscious of their pres--ence,
and in a little while was lost be
hind the thicker growth of trees. As he
went out of sight the sun broke through
the cloud, the leafage was inundated with
Eife aain and the birds renewed their
"Look," she whispered ; "the shadow
follows him."
"What an odd mood this is to-day!"
said her husband, smiling at her. "And
why is the poor old gentleman so dread
ful?" "Rut, Austin, do you know? You can't
have heard. He is known to have hatch
ed plots against the Czar."
"Well, yes. It is known also that he
baa been wifeless and childless this twen
ty yean. His wife and his two sons
died in Siberia. They went there without
trial, and people who know him say that
the loss of them in that horrible way
turned his brain. Suppose anybody stole
you and little Austin? Suppose he drove
you on foot through hundreds of miles of
ice and Know? Suppose that he made you
herd with the human off-scourings of the
world, and that you died after three or
four long-drawn, hideous years? It might
be wicked, but surely it would not be
quite without provocation if I blew that
man sky-high. I don't Ray that regicide
la a thing to be commended. I don't de
fend the poor old gentleman's political
opinions. But I do say that human na
ture is human nature."
Luncheon over, he returned to his
painting, to find the lights all changed.
Fie worked away, however, with great
contentment for an hour or two, while the
wife anfl the boy wandered beyond the
limits of the dell. When they came back
thy found that he had packed up his
traps and was lying at lenath on the
cnos-H. with bis face turned to the sky.
"I do this better than I paint," he said,
cocking an idle eye at his wife from be
neath the soft white felt which rested on
bis nose. "Shall we get back now?"
"I vant to carry something, papa,"
eaid the boy, possessing himself of the
camp stool. They sauntered on together
tranquilly through the twinkling lights
which dazzled from between the leaves,
and their steps were noiseless on the
dense carpet of fir needles. The boy laid
down bin burden to chase a sulphur-colored
butterfly. They had gone a hundred
yards before they missed him, and when
they turned to look for him he was seen
at the far end of a wooded vista, seated
on the camp stool.
"Look at tke little figure, Locy," said
tbe father. "Isn't there something lonely
and almost pathetic in it? He looks as
ff he were waiting for somebody who
would never come a figure of deserted
childish patience." He hailed the child
and turned away again. "He knows the
road?" lie asked. "There is no danger of
bis losing himself?"
"He knows the way," she answered.
We ha-e been here twice a day for a
Bxxith past."
80 they marched on, well pleased, talk
trf 0f indifferent matters, and the little
Murray
fellow sat on the camp stool behind them
and held animated talk with Nature.
The gray-bearded man wandered
through the wood with his chin sunk upon
his breast and his eyes fixed upon the
ground. He was tall and gaunt and swar
thy, and looked as if he had a eonsidera
ble strain of the Jew in him. His nose
was like an eagle's beak and ascetically
fine. His temples were hollowed like
those of a death's-head, and his eyes,
which were large and brown and mourn
ful to the verge of pathos, were the eyes
of a born dreamer aud a fanatic by na
ture.
It was already dusk when the old Ni
hilist turned his footsteps into the wood
and having just remembered that he had
not broken his fast for seven or eight
hours, he had somewhat quickened his
usual thoughtful pace, when the sound
of a sob reached his ear and he stopped
suddenly to look about him. Within a
yard or two sat the lost child on the
camp stool, with his back against a broad
tree trunk. The old man knelt on the
grass and looked at the sleeping boy. His
straw hat had fallen off aud lay beside
him, his golden hair was tumbled and
disordered, his long dark lashes were still
wet, and his rosy cheeks were blurred and
soiled with the traces of his tears.
"Eh! La, la, la?" said the old fellow,
in a pitying accent. "Ixst ! Did we
sleep in despair, dear little heart? in
tears? in terror? And God sendeth a
hand, ere yet it is night time. To the
child, rescue, and to the old man teach
ing."
Then he took the child softly in his
arms, and gathering up the hat and the
camp stool, entered the wood. As he did
so, a faint and distant cry reached his
ears, and he stopped to listen. It was re
peated once or twice, faintly and more
faintly, and then died away. He started
anew almost at a run, but he was old,
and the lad was unusually solid and well
grown for his years, so that the burden
soon told on him, and brought him to a
walk again. It was a full mile, from the
spot to which the child had wandered to
the Cheval Blanc, and when the little
hostel was reached the bearer's back and
arms were aching rarely. The landlady
met him in the passage with a cry.
"Oh, the little Anglais! You have
found him, monsieur? Jeanne, run to the
woods and tell them that the child is
found."
"You know him?" asked Dobroski.
"Who is he? Where does he live?"
"He is the child of the English at
the hotel d's I'ostes," answered the wom
an, standing on tiptoe to kiss the boy.
"lie has been lost this five hours." Do
broski turned into the street, and the
woman followed him talking all the way.
"He is the only child of his parents, and
their cherished. Iniagina, then, the de
spair of the mother, the inquetude of his
father ! They are rich. See how the child
is dressed. There is nothing you might
not ask for."
The old man smiled at this, but said
nothing. He surrendered his charge at
the hotel, where the boy was received
with such noisy demonstrations of pleas
ure that he awoke. Being awake, and
recognizing his surroundings, he adapted
himself to them with an immediate phil
osophy, and demanded something to eat.
A second messenger was dispatched to
the wood to bring back the party who had
gone in search of him.
His mother kissed him frantically and
cried over him, but his father set out
for the Cheval Blanc to thank his res
cuer, lie iouna woorosKi seated in a lit
tle room with a sanded floor, and began
to stammer his gratitude in broken and
mutilated French.
"It was a piece of good fortune to find
him," said Dobroski, speaking English,
to the other's great relief. "I am de
lighted that the pleasure was mine."
"I don't know how to thank you,"
said the Englishman, a little awkward
ly, lugging a purse from his trousers
pocket. For a moment Dobroski fancied
the stranger meant to offer him money,
but he merely produced a card, "That's
my name," said the Englishman, blun
deringly. "Austin Farley. Upon my
word. I really don't know how to thank
you.
"My good, good sir," returned Dobro
ski, "what would you have had? What
was I to do? He was sure to be found,
and it was my good fortune to have found
him."
"You must let his mother come and
thank you, sir," said the Englishman.
"Upon my word I really don't know what
to say to tell you how grateful and oblig
ed I am. His mother has been in the
greatest anxiety. You must let her come
and thank you."
"Well, well, Mr. Farley," the elder man
answered, himself a little shy at the oth
er's concealed emotion. "If you will think
so mere an accident worth thanks to any
body But pray let us say no more."
CHAPTER II.
There was a great crowd of people at
the railway station at N'amur, and the
Luxembourg train had no sooner steamed
into the station than it was besieged by
the mob, and all the carriages were taken
by storm. One tourist, who had furnish
ed himself with a first class ticket, and
had shouldered himself through the crowd
to the buffet, was exceedingly wroth on
his return to find that the carriage he
had occupied was filled by third-class
excursionists. He spoke French with a
fluency, and an inaccuracy in combination
with it. which fairly took off his mental
feet the official to whom he appealed, and
in a very passion and torrent of his ora
tory rippled audibly the accent of Dub
lin. He talked all over, arms and hands,
finger tips, head, shoulders, and body. He
talked with all his features and with all
his muscles and with all bis might, and at
last the official seized his meaning, and
proceeded with inexorable politeness to
turn out all the third-class passengers.
The triumphant tourist stood by, sudden
ly smiling and unruffled. He had a
round, smooth face, with a touch of apple
color on his cheeks, a nose Inclining some
what upward, and an expression of self
satisfaction so couplets that It aroused
the Irony of one of the ejected,
"lie is well introduced to himself, that
fellow," wild lie, but the tourist did not
hear, or did not carp if he heard. He
stood tranquilly by, holding the handle of
the door, until the carriage was cleared,
aud was just about to ascend when a
slow, quiet voice spoke behind.
"(Sot that through, old man, eh?"
... vu.u.-u ruum-m,, nu
firrprcnoii nut n linn, I tn i lw. utmutnn
"What? Maskelyne. me boy. Delovt-
ed. Where are you going?"
"I am going to Janenue by rail," said
the o:her, accepting the proffered hand
with a hearty shake, once up and oneem the world, she had problems of mo
down. "From there I go on to a little mpnt to mU. gne Inade not lnfre.
frfends'of mine " y " to the linage, and told
"I'm going to Janenne meself," said licr Perplexities out of a full and some
the Irishman. "Can't we ride together?" 1 tlmes a sorrowful heart. One day,
"I suppose we can," returned his ' when extra burdens weighed upon her,
friend. "Baggage Is registered." He 1 she came with a tale of woe.
was just as calm as the Celt hod a tnin- "Trust God and don't worry," was
ute or two before been eager, and his!.,! th minister could say. "You are
voice was distinctly American. He was
varv ItrnManlv ami nantl, ttfi.it , tm
ficrure was tall and elerant! tiia tom v
handsome but melancholy, and curiously
pale. The eyes were the best feature
black, soft and lustrous, but they looked
as if he had never smiled in bis life. "I
say, Fraser," he said, In his slow, mild
voice, when they were both seated, "where
did you pick up your French? I never
heard anything like it."
"I've knocked about Paris a good deal,"
said Fraser. "I speak Jorman with the
same facility, though it's probably me
Scotch extraction that gives me that."
Midwa ybetween Namur and Luxem
bourg the two travelers changed trains
through a most lovely country, and the
young American, looking continually out
,ill 1-
of window, seemed absorbed in contem
plation of the landscape. But It could
scarcely have been the landscape which
half a dozen times called a dreamy smile
to his soft eyes, and once a blush to thejMrs. Packard to buy four more for an
sallow pallor of his cheek. When theJotber famiiy. aml l nee1 mme malted
train drew up in front of the little red
lttMilr era tinrt a Kit ! 1 A I n r Innns 1 , Ir a a
child's toy house and not much bigger. , Kot tuelr tw elfth baby- and the ,ast one
the blush came to his cheek again, and not fourteen months old, and her hus
his hand trembled slightly as it caressed baud sitting round the house and do
lus black mustache. ling nothing, and the children all puny
"Well, it's good-by for a time, old fel- till they get old enough to go to work
low," he said, shaking bands with Fra-'all(j get enough to eat.
ser. "But I will see you again to-mor- T ilrll,ij eaa y,a M-hinntntr.
row or next day, most likely, if you can '
ft r si titnn tnn fwrv o fFaina rtt ofofa '
"Are those your friends?" asked Fraser, !Lad to do the hlpplug, but I believe
looking through the window as the train I uld salt them a little ; and old Mrs.
crawled slowly along the platform. "An , Wlggln you remember old Mrs. Wig
uncommonly pretty gyurl ! The ould boy gin that you sent the cloak to? Well,
looks like an army man. lie's waving she's little Mary's mother, you know,
his hand at ye." I that sings; and she's down with sonie-
"Yes," said Maskelyne. with his soft thIng the matter with her thigh; It
drawl a little exaggerated. "That is my 1 w le but j
man. Good-day, I raser. Tell O Rourke ' , . ,.
I'm down here and that I'll run over and , lt 8 801116 cancerous trouble,
have a look at him." "She sews the collars on vests, and
A minute later he was shaking hands
with the young lady who had excited Mr.
Fraser's admiration.
"Welcome to the Ardennes, Mr. Maske-
lvne, said Angela, with frank good hu-'
' 11 e j ! v
mor. "How are all our friends in New
York?"
"Thank you. Miss Butler," he answre-
ed, looking into her gray eyes with a
smile which was all the brighter and the
sweeter because of the usual melancholy
of his countenance; "I cannot undertake
11 1 ll ! 1 i XT
to ten you now an your irieuus in iew
U- U... tt C t 1
"rs "' .uul luc 1C"
I have heard in one way or another since!
T n.m. to R.irone nre verv well Indeed.
r5 Ti,,tw 1 mn rhnnViprf to ao vnn
looking so robust. I had not hoped to see '
you looking so well."
"Dyspepsia," said the major. "W hen
I wrote you I was really ill. I am all
right now. liut ive Deen a gooa deal ,
worried, and when 1 m worried I get '
dyspepsia, and dyspepsia means despair..
That your baggage? Got the ticket for
tr,
At this point Fraser came up with
perfect sang froid, raised his hat to the
girl and accosted Maskelyne.
"I say, ould man, tell me what s the
best place to put up at nere ;
"Hotel des I'ostes, said the major.
Mr. Fraser raised his hat to the major.
"Let me introduce you," said Maske-
lyne. "Major Butler, this is Mr. Fraser, ; jusi 10m mm mcy cic i u., lh.i
a member of your British House of Com- i iiren, and where I was taking them,
mons.
"Delighted to meet you !" said the ma
jor, but he did not look as if this state
ment could be accepted.
(To be continued.)
Orlsln of the Union Jack.
The British union jack, the king's
colors, combines three crosses the
V , 1 i e n 1 1
Andrew and the cross of St. Patrick
all on a blue field. The union of
these three crosses occurred ln an in
teresting "fashion. Primarily England's
flag displayed a red cross on a white
ground. The white cross of St. An-
drew made Its appearance side by side
with that of St. George during the
reign of James I., the Scottish king who .
1 1 4 '. . l. f T .,1 .1 t.
was not until later, however, in 1707, 1
that the two crosses were combined
on the one banner and the white
Idem of St. Andrew ran from comer
to corner of the blue field and crossed
the red emblem of St. George. I
Nearly a century later the red ding-'
onal cross of St. Patrick found a place
on tne same lias. 11 was mier tue
Irish parliament was united to the,
British that this change took place. I
In England It Is stipulated that all
colors, as flags are termed, shall be
hand made. At first they were the
work of women members of regimen-
tal families, but later the privilege was
glven 10 cuuuucioia, WUo numuer less
than half a dozen, lt Is said. If. how-
ever, the wives and daughters of oflV
cers want to make colors for their
regiments they are permitted to do so,
but as a rule these regimental colors
are submitted to the garter king at
arms ror nis approval Derore tney are
presented to the regiments for which
they have been made.
Joshing Her.
Mr. A. Going downtown to select
your spring hat, eh? Well, you better
wait until night j
Mrs. A. (In surprise) Nlfht, George? 1
Why? I
Mr. A. Didn't yon say It was going
to be a dream?
niced by Comparison.
I
No 0,10 who had the 88te8t know!
edge of the facts could Imagine that
Snlllo IJoyee had an easy time of It
The eldest of three sisters left alone
doing your best. Hate faith and be
1 Futle nt-
The advice seemed trite, andi easier
to give than to take.
But while she was there Miss Poxon
entered. Now, those who do not know
Miss Poxon ought to know what man
ner of woman, she is. She scrubs floors,
and teaches Sunday school classes, and
scolds recreant husbands, and per
forms other useful services In connec-
tlon with a settlement of the Young
Women's Christian Association. She
is a character the like of which one
might go far to meet. "What is It to-
ua. u , ,
Inlster.
1 TVUIll iUU IO I
you to buy rour iicKets to
the concert, and let me give them to
the Mavowskis; poor things, they want
to go and can't, and the profits are for
the playground; and I'm going to ask
milk for Mrs. Petruskl; they've Just
post established ; I should taint If I
gets three cents apiece, and when she
. got that hurt she got round on a cane
La iori, snp ponld. and now her
wrlgt,g lyen out the mmQ way . an(i
. . ,
when you come in Sunday afternoon to
, , , .
Preach at the mission, do you suppose
ou can come over and pray for her?
And there s the Holers, you know,
There's a man that's good for some-
thing, but he got hurt, and now Jim
ua(i to stop school and go to
nml n
voiit, uuu
TLere are no periods In Miss Poxon's
. ;
Wlivei iUtlOHS ; she goes Oil until SOUie-
thing happens. But Sallie could hear
no more.
"I'm Just ashamed of myself!" she
;rled. "And to think I came here to
my troubles!"
.., r rent paIdr asked Miss
.,,,. ,mn n.
' , 4l . . .
- -
Df others. Do all your folks keep so
ber? Have you got good 6hoes? Well,
then, my dear, you don't know what
trouble Is! And sometimes I get so
nrp(i: I had to scrub a flocf this morn
, d t k th children to the
Friendless, and a man
, , , ., . , , 1 T
cowle(1 wben the baby cried' and 1
and I'd paid my fare and those chil
dren were going to ride, and If he
iidn't like it be could take .another
car; and I do get pretty tired, but It's
lots of fun to be helping somebody;
and dear, If you've got good shoes, and
the rent Is paid, and your folks are
kind, and you can say your prayers at
night and go to sleep, don't ever think
you have any trouble, for you haven t.
' ... '
-Youth's Companion.
The Power Divine.
Whatever the trial or difficulty that
may beset and hamper the christian
tifo thorn ta llttlo rimihr thnt to enn-
w,n wer aj dlylne ,ngtead
of human would mean added strength,
surer victory and stronger character.
. . r1ivIno ntrilst(1i tn h;nl
t MagtePf nnd fls fast ag he
era-1..'. w. t Mm i,
draw on the never-diminishing supply
for more, would we not find ourselves
relying on something so much stronger
. n f. n.flk ., thnt .
could gQ out -conquering and to con-
..o'i
T, ,H onlv hr mePtln.r all temstlon.
. nmrpnm,nt. thprn that u- iom
f. .. of f. Mavb- nor flI) nn
tn,g plane of existence. Maybe some
thng9 are not temptattons to us that
Kn tn othera. rcrhans ,n fnrirnK
ten exper,ences we have overcome
them The thlngg we are flghting to.
day ,f We overcome them before the
nlght wlI, put ag far from ng
ag the ea8t Ia from the west and we
wl have tlme Jn .. eternal years..
we w, have energy and strength to
,earn new iessons.
ArknoTvledorlnar God.
Addison has said: "If you wish suc
cess In life make preseverance your
bosom friend, experience your wise
counsellor, caution your elder brother
and hope your guardian genius."
A shorter recipe Is to acknowledge
God In all your ways. There are two
way s, In which people pass through
this world, one Is by remembering and
the other Is by forgetting God. To all SUPERSTITION AND MEDICINE,
of us God Is out of sight. To some In-
deed He Is out of mind. While the nil- of the Uuuer Thinir uivcn
ural eye cannot see God, the spiritual: Credence by Many,
eye can see IIlui. The eye of the soul Vot superstitions uud delusions cuu
sees God through faith. Walking by be fouud ln e1'? household, says the,
faith is always surer than walking by Washington Star. "When there is a
sight. There are countless false paths, caso of skuesa 1 the house and some
but the traveller need not take any ol "JetitU; animal dies you will flud that
them. Faith In God makes the mind 9ome tuluk tuB patient will surely re
clear so that we act wisely and rltrht- wver. The most persistent superstl-
ly. Key. G. W. Barnes, D. D.
I-et Ma bat Lire.
Tft A , It.... tl. . '
WIthyeforward face and unreluctant
iour
Not hastening to, nor turning from,
the goal;
Not mourning for the things that dis-
appear
In the dim past, nor holding back In
fear
From what the future veils, but with
a whole
And happy heart, that pays Its toll
To Youth and Age, and travels on with
cheer.
So let the way wind up the hill or down,
Though rough or smooth, the Journey
m V V t t. . I The killing of a toad or tue crowing of
Still seeking what I sought when but I . . . ,. , .. . .
a boy 1 a hen foretells rain. If the cat washe
New friendship, high adventure, and a lts face !t Ulw,us that visitors are eom
, crown, jmS- If a bee stings, kill It and the
I shall grow old, but never lose life's wound will not swell. The black tooth
eest, laf a hog and the blood of a black hen
Because the road's last turn will be the have curative powers.
best,
Henry Van Dyke, D. D.
iie Careth fop All.
There Is nothing so high as to be
above God's care, and nothing so lowly j Applied In the marsh country. On the
as to be benea'th lt. He Who keeps rAht of St. John the Baptist's day,
alive the unquenchable light of the star' 3une 24, a patient must be dragged
visible to a hemisphere, kindles the ' trough the split of a cleft ash tree,
small taper of the glowworm that j Three men bearing the name of John
gleams ln the twilight on the mossy f must perform the operation and it must
bank. He Who piles up and loosens he conducted In dead silence. For ery
the Alpine avalanche, shapes the crys- Jsipelas a fire Is lighted and a pinch of
tals of each falling snow-flake. He Who nehes from lt Is rubbed on the skin to
guides and bridles the storm wave that the accompaniment of a saying to the
breaks ln thunder upon the reef, pre- effect that the ashes and the sore went
serves each Invisible coral animal that,
builds Its lime cell beneath the boom- tame back but the sore never again,
lng surf. He Who sees from Ills glo- "Recently ln Georgetown a police
rlous throne the seraph veiling his face man was bitten by a supposed poison-
wlth his wings, takes note of the spar-'ous snake and the old remedy of kill
row falling to the ground, and careth lng chickens, cutting them open and ap-
for you.
The Llg-ht ot Joy.
We all have our sorrows, and they
may be very bitter. We all have to
endure pain, perhaps, again and again,
and It may be very hard to endure. We
all have our griefs and our losses, und
ofttlnies our hearts may seem to break. ti,e soes upward.'
But through all these experiences the: -In the wardg of Garfield hospital
light of joy may continue to shine iust fall there was a iatlent who insist
withln us, and our peace need not be 011 keoping several apples under his
broken. The happiness God gives Is bed to h(,lp the dropHy TLe thIllK9
part of the life of Heaven, aud In that that people will carry within their pock
home the light goeth not out by day, Pts wear around their lle.ks or ,,0liM
and there Is no night there. Rev. J. It. or put ou thelr flngers are uUm nve
Miller.
CANADA'S USE OF NIAGABA.
Government Compete -with Private
1'ower lompaniea. 1
jub un ,vuraH
Is leading to some Interesting se-
umc ' naa , " br ":;
A tribunal ca led the Hydro-Llectrlc
l ower iomuii9iou ua uimu ireuicu, (
and ln the hands of this body has been
placed the entire domestic regulation
of the power product of s at ons
lng w tbln government control.
t , u ,
In addition there has been given to
. , , iV. , . 4 .
the various municipalities the right to
, x , it m i a. t .
undertake the distribution of electrical
... .... i. ...
energy with n their respective limits.
1
In order that the commission may be
ln a position to dictate terms to the ex
isting private companies It is Important
that the co-operation of the municipal
ities be obtained, and this appears to be
partially accomplished.
The city of Toronto has already ar
ranged for 15,000 horse-power of elec
tric energy from Niagara, the price be
ing $14 to $16 per horse-power for a
supply for a 24-hour day, Including
transmission to Toronto, the local dis
tribution to be In the hands of the mu
nicipality, and It Is believed that a
number of other cities and towns wu.
make similar arrangements.
These agreements are made with the
Hydro-Electric Power Commission, and necklace of dirty looking green stones,
it In turn must either secure the power However, a shrewd pair of dealers
supply from the existing private com-' thought there might be "money in it"
panics or else proceed to develop Its ' and decided on purchasing, clubbing to
own stations. 'gether 5 for the purpose. On taking
It Is hardly probable that the latter it t0 a well known jeweler he promptly
alternative will be found necessary, ' nfft.red l,r00, which sum they refused
since the result would be to leave the and sold the necklace of purest emer
private corporations with the greater al(ls for 7i000 j LchU,,,, where Ixml
part of their prospective custom per- Iosel)ery on his marriage purchased
manently taken away, so that the real it for something like 20,)0. The old
consequence of the recent legislation Is Frenchwoman's mother had been at
to compel the companies to supply the tacUPd to the court of France., and the
municipalities through the commission emeralds had once formed part of the
at prices determined by the engineers ?ri)WQ JeweI.s.-London Answers,
of the new body.
It Is possible that such measures will Time to Get Mad.
prove advantageous to the public, but A meuiler of the Philadelphia bar
much will depend upon the manner In tells of a queer old character in Altoo
whlch the law Is carried out. It has na who for a long time was the judge
been Intimated that this legislation will of a police court In that town.
render lt exceedingly difficult for pro-
moters to Induce outside capital to en-
gage In the development of natural re-
sources In Canada hereafter.
A Blaramlat.
Little Willie Papa, what Is a biga
mist?
Mr. Hennypeck A bigamist, my son,
Is a Shs-s-s-s I Is that your mamma
coming up the street? No, I see It Isn't
Well, a bigamist Is a benefactor who
prevents at least one of his fellow men
1 TO ill UlUIlilUIS. 1 Ul.
Enrrin shaped Lake. j
The Peud d'Orellle lake, ln Idaho,
took its name from its shape, which je-
enables that of an earring,
tions ln the world are tho.se that are
based upon the habits of animals," said
Dr. J. Dudley Morgan. "If one Is walk-
7,?" e ?" " ,!8 MBOd to lueaa
J that a ghost Is following, but In day-
I tiuie lt tells a stranger Is coiu-
ling. She nelgh of a horse Is a portent
of death which will come from the
juarter,from which his head is pointing
w hen he neighs
"The hair of a dog, the skin of
snake and the pelt of a black cat are
believed to possess medicinal qualities,
whille the handling of a toad Is said to
five warts. German-Canadians are full
of superstition. A white spider crawl-
jlng toward one, the howling of a dog.
tlle Blght of a 8Imke all foreten death.
"In a certain district In Germany the
touch of a corpse's hand Is still regard-
ed as curative of many local ills. Less
grewsome is the remedy for Hernia still
over the Bed sea together, the ashes
plying them to the bite until the chick
ens were cold and did not turn blacli
was tried. Twenty-six chickens were
use(i on the policeman ln extracting the
poison. This remedy for cramps is
'llsed to-day ln other places than
Georgetown : 'On going to rest put
your slippers under the bed and turn
n white potato ln each pocket of your
trousers and you will never be troubled
with rheumatism or If you suffer with
cough and cold exchange the potato for
a lump of camphor. No doubt there
are some of us who now have a horse
chestnut in our pockets or are wearing
writer was Induced by an intelligent
and considerate friend to wear a nut
meg for ob8t,nate
In no other western European coun-
trv !a cmiurut i Him un nrav'i Knit n in
Austrla.IIungarr. Quite m.eMlly tue
cbambeTlala omee changed tne mim.
. - . ,i , ., . . ,
tpr of box 13 In the Imperial opera
, , . . , ' .. '
house and the Imperial Court theater
. .. , ., . , . , . ....
because the public objected to sitting
,1 . . . ... , , .
In a box bearing this unlucky number.
.... .... . , , ,
P.nf Thla cimoputl t Inn itifKt (fa liitl,,i-
In medicine. Speaking of the health
exhibition. Dr. Ilelnrich Grun declared
that In many Instances suHrstition,
and especially local superstition, was
an absolute menace to public health.
In the Austrian hospitals one finds no
block or pavilion no ward 13 or
staircase 13. Very few patients will
consent to be operated on on the 13th.
And in that respect Friday, too, is con
sidered Just as unlucky."
Romance of a Necklace.
Some years ago an old Frenchwoman
died In a poor part of Dublin, and her
little effects were put up for auction.
Among other odds and ends was a
On one occasion, during a session of
his court, there was such an amount of
conversation and laughter In the court-
room that his honor became very an
gry and confused. Suddenly, In great
wrath, he shouted :
"Silence, here! We bare decided
above a dozen cases this morning, and
T haven't heard a word of one of
them !" Harper s W eekly,
Not Mlaalnir Anrthlna;.
fnt9o U'hun aiiiiinior mn nrnnnea
. . r. ,,,, vnn f,wr-
Marie Present company always ae
epted. Kansas City Times.
There are lots of people who put up
Wth things all their lives that other
people wouldn't stand temporarily.
9