CHAPTKIt I.
Hdow, a great broad stretch of ocean,
calm as death, slmnlirrinjr placidly be
neath the Kim's hot rays; nltove. a sky of
palest mure, flecked here and there by
dainty masses of soft, fleecy clouds; and.
far inland, a background of high hills,
clothed with n tender foliage, a very baby
leafdom, just bursting luto the fuller life.
Toward the west the trees five way n
little, letting a road be seen, that like a
straight pale ribbon runs between the
greenery for the space of quite a mile or
no, and then reaches the small fishing vil
lain where the simple folk of Glow-ring
Destley toil from one year's end to the
other. Mime In careless joy, some in cense
less labor, some, alas! In cruel weeping,
because of those "who will never come
back to the town."
Alone the white road, that gleams
thirstily in the burning sunshine of this
hot midday In June, a carriage Is crawl
Ins with quite an aggravating slowness
an antiquated vehicle of a type now al
most unknown, but which once beyond
doubt "cost money." The carriage, lieing
an open one, enables the people as it
passes through the village to see without
undue trouble that the occupants of it arc
two girls; both very young, both singular
ly alike, though In distinctly different
styles.
"It is charming:" says the younger girl,
with a little quick motion of the hand
toward the sweeping bay, and the awak
ening trees, and the other glories of the
landscape. "All charming, far better
than I ever dared hope for; and yet my
mind misgives me. Vera."
She turns a brilliant glance on her sis
ter, full of terrible insinuations, and then
laughs a little. Thus animated, she is a
very pretty girl, half child, half woman,
as fresh as the morning, and with eyes
like stars. She lifts one slender black
gloved hand, and placing it beneath her
sister's chin, turns her face gently to her.
Such a beautiful face! Very like the
riante one beside It, yet unlike, too. There
is a touch of sadness round the lovely
lips, a mournful curve; indeed, a thought
fulness too great for her years Is stamped
on every feature. A tender, loving, yet
strong soul shines through the earnest
eyes, and when she smiles it is reluctant
ly, as If smiles all her life had been for
bidden to her.
"Oh! that reminds me," said Miss Dy
sart. "I quite forgot to tell you of It,
but the day ' before we left Nice, Nell
Stewart said that this cousin you speak
of, if he does exist at all, at all events
doep not do it-here."-
'Which" means?" '
"That either he won't, or can't, life
with his father. Can't, Nell rather led
uie to believe."
"Can't It is, you may be sure," says the
younger girl, restlessly. '.'Fancy a father
whose son can't live with him! And yet,
after all, virtuous astonishment on that
score is rather out of place with us. I
can imagine just such a father."
"Well, never mind that," says Miss Dy
sart, hastily.
"Yes. Very good; let us then go from
sire to uncle," says bcr sister with a lit
tle shrug. "Do you think we shall gain
much by the change? This old relative of
ours is, perhaps, as delightful as we could
wish him, and yet I wish father had not
left us to his '.ender mercies."
"Do not dwell on that," says Vera,
with nervous baste; "do not seek tor
faults In the inevitable. lie is all that is
left us. You know the sudden decision
arose out of a letter received by father
from Uncle Gregory about a year ago.
When father was was dying " She
pauses abruptly, and a tremor shakes her
last words
The younger girl turns quickly to look
at her. There is infinite love and com
passion in her glance, but perhaps a little
contempt, and certainly a little impa
tience. "Do you know," she says, "it may seem
heartless positively coarse, if you will
but I do not think our father was a man
to excite respect, much less love or regret,
or "
"Oh! it is better not to speak like that,"
interrupts Miss Dysart, in a low, shocked
tone. "Don't do it, darling. I know
what you mean, but "
"And I know that I shall never forgive
or forget the life he led you," says Grisel
da, with a certain angry excitement.
"Well, that is over!" says Miss Dysart,
with a quick sigh, heavily Indrawn.
"What vas this vendetta, this terrible
lifelong quarrel that was Kept up be
tween him and father with such monoton
ous persistency?"
"That had to do with our grandfather's
will. I'apa was the eldest son, yet the
property, was left to Uncie Gregory; and
that for no reason at all. Naturally, papa
was very angry about it, and accused
Gregory of using undue Influence."
".lust so, and of course there is a good
deal behind that you don't know. There
always Is; nobody ever tells quite every
thing. And besides Oh! Oh, Vera!
Oh! what has happened?"
Griselda clutches In an agonized fashion
at the leather side of the crazy old
chariot, which has toppled over to the
left side and stands in a decidedly dissi
pated position. The ancient driver, pre
sumably asleep, hail let the horses wan
der at their own sweet will, und they be
ing old and sleepy, too, the result was
that ihey had dragged two of the wheels
up on 'a- steep bank und nearly capsized
the carriage.
"Oh, thank you," says Miss Dysart,
loanlni'forward and addressing with earn
est glahc-o and heightened color the young
man who had risendescended, perhaps,
sounds pleusanter and more orthodox
like a,,g))od angel from somewhere the
wood on their right, no doubt. A lislilng
rod. IvIiik on the road where he had Hung
it vi)en preparing for his Ignoble battle
with those poor old horse, proclaims the
fact tl?at he has been whipping the stream
tliHt gleams here and there brljllautiy
through the intrtloes of tho tws.
"Oh. no," says ho. lifting Ills hat, "you
mustn't thank me. It was really nothing.
X'oor brutes, I think they were asleep;
Ihey Ii Is hot. Isn't It?" This last he
says hastily, ns It ashamed of his ani
madversion on the age of the sorry cattle
in question their horses, no doubt; and
there is something wonderfully charming
In the faint apologetic color that springs
Info his cheeks. As he finishes speaking
he looks at Griselda so hard that she feels
it incumbent on her to return his glance
and to say something.
"Wo thought our last hour had come,"
she says, laughing softly, and looking at
him a little shyly, but so prettily. "Hut
for you. one cannot say where we should
bo now."
She bows to him, and so does he,r sis
ter quite as graciously, and then the
horses once more commence their snail
like progress, grinding through the dusty
road at the rate of three miles an hour.
The little episode Is over; the young man
settles his soft hat more firmly on his
head, picks tip his rod, regards it anx
iously to see that no harm has come to
it. and disappears once more Into the
shelter of the cool wood.
Half an hour later they are at the en
trance gate of Greycourt, and practically
at their journey's end. Hoth girls, with
an involuntary movement, crane their
uecks out of the cnrrlage to get a first
glimpse nt their future home, and then
turn a dismayed glance on each other.
Anything more dreary, more unfriendly,
yet withal grand in its desolation, could
hardly be seen.
"Mow dark it is," says Griselda, n
nervous thrill running through her. as
they move onward beneath the shade of
the mighty trees that clasp their tarnis
between her and the glorious sky thus
blotting it out.
A sudden turn brings them within view
of the house. A beautiful old house ap
parently, of red brick, toned by age to a
duller shade, with many gables, and over
grown in parts by trailing Ivy, the leaves
of which now glisten brightly in the even
ing sunshine.
The coachman, scrambling to the
ground, bids them in a surly tone to
alight. lie Is tired and cross, no doubt,
by the unusual work of the day. And
presently they find themselves on the
threshold of the open hall door, hardly
knowing what to do next. The shambling
figure of a man about seventy, appeared
presently from some dusky doorway, he
waves to them to enter the room, and,
shutting the door again behind them with
a sharp haste, leaves them alone with
their new relative, Gregory Dysart.
CIIAPTKIt II.
Vera, going quickly forward, moves to
ward an nnnchair at the upper end of
the room In which a figure is seated. She
sees an old man, shrunken, enfeebled,
with a face that is positively ghastly, be
cause of its excessive pallor; a living
corpse, save for two eyes that burn and
gleam and glitter with an almost devilish
brilliancy.
"So you've come," he says, without
making any attempt to rise from his
chair. "Shut that door, will you? What
a vile draught! And don't stand staring
like that, it makes me nervous."
Ills voice is cold, clear, freezing. It
seems to the tired girls standing before
him as if a breath of icy air had suddenly
fallen Into the hot and stifling room.
"Vera, I presume," says Mr. Dysart,
holding out his lithe white hand to permit
her to press it. "And you are Griselda?
I need not ask what lunatic chose your
names, as I was well acquainted with
your mother many years ago."
"I feel that I must think you at once.
Uncle Gregory, for your kindness to us,"
says Miss Dysart, gravely, still standing.
"Ay, ay. You acknowledge that," says
he, quickly. "I have been your best
friend, after all, eh?"
"You have given us a home," continues
Miss Dysart, in tones that tremble a lit
tle. "Hut for you "
"Yes, yes go on." He thrusts out his
old miserly face as if athlrst for further
words. "Hut for me you would both
have been cast upon the world's highway,
to live or die as chance dictated. To me,
to me you are indebted for everything.
You owe me much. Kaeh day you live
you shall owe me more. I have befriend
ed you; I have been the menus of saving
you from starvation."
If so corpse-like a face could show signs
of excitement it shows it now, as he seeks
to prove by word and gesture that he is
their benefactor to an unlimited extent.
The hateful emotion he betrays raises in
Grisclda's breast feelings of repugnance
and disgust.
"I have consented to adopt you," he
goes on presently, his cold voice now cut
ting like a knife. "Hut do not expect
much from me. It Is well to come to a
proper understanding nt the start, and
so save future argument. Honesty has
made me poor. You have been, I benr,
accustomed to lead u useless, luxurious
existence. Your futher all h!s life kept up
a most extravugunt menage, and, dying,
left you paupers." He almost hisses out
the last cruel word.
Griselda stnrts to her feet.
"The honosty of which you boast is not
everything," she says, in a burning tone.
"Let mo remind you that courtesy, too,
has Its claims upon you."
"Hah! The word pauper Is iinplenslng,
it seems," says he, unmoved. "Hefore we
quit this point, however, one lust word.
You are beneath my roof; I shall expect
you to conform to my rules. I see no one.
I permit no one to enter my doors save
my son. I will not have people spying
out the nakedness of the land, and specu
lating over what they are pleased to c-jll
my eccentricities. They will have me
rich, but I nm poor, poor, I tell you. Al
ways remember that."
Griseldn's foutures having settled them
selves luto n rather alarming expression,
Miss Dysart hurriedly breaks Into the
conversation.
"If you will permit us," she says, faint
ly, "we should like to go to our rooms, to
rost n little. Jt has been n long Journey ."
Her uncle turn and touches the bell
near him, and immediately, so Immedi
ately as to suggest the idea that she has
been applying her car to the kcyliolc, n
woman enters.
"You are singularly prompt," he says,
with n lowering glance mid a sneer, "This
Is Mrs. Grunch," turning to Vera, "my
housekeeper. She will rco to your wants.
Grunch, take these young ladles away.
My nerves," with n shudder, "are all un
strung to tho Inst pitch."
Thus unceremoniously dismissed, Miss
Dysart follows the housekeeper from the
room, Griselda having preceded her.
Through the huge dark hall and up the
wide, moldy staircase they follow their
guide, noting as they do so the decay
that marks everything around. ,
She flings wide a door for the girls' to
enter, and then abruptly departs without
offering them word or glance. They are
.thankful to be thus left alone, and In
vi.luutarlly stand still and gate at each
other. Vera Is very pale, and her breath
Is coming rather lit Hilly from between her
part nt Hps.
"lie looks dying," she says, at last,
speaking with n heavy sigh, and going
nearer to Griselda, ns It unconsciously
seeking a closer companionship. "Did you
ever see such n face? Don't you think
he Is djlng?"
"Who can tell?" says Griselda. "I
might think it, erhaps, but for bis eyes.
They" she shudders "they look ns if
they couldn't die. What terrible e)cs
they are! and what a vile old man alto
gether! Good henvens! how did he dure
so to Insult ns! I told you, Vera" with
rising excitement "I warned you that
our coming here would be only for evil."
A moment later a knock comes to the
door.
"Will jou be pleased to come down
stairs or to have your tea here?" de
mands the harsh voice of the housekeep
er from the threshold.
"Here" Is on Vera's lips, but Griselda,
the bold, circumvents her.
"Don n stairs." she says, coldly, "when
we get some hot water, and when you
scud a maid to help us to unpack our
trunks."
"There are no maids in this house,"
replies Mrs. Grunch. sullenly. "You must
either attend to each other or let me help
you."
"No ninlds!" says Griselda.
"None." briefly.
"And my room? Oh Is this mine, or
Miss Dysart's?"
"lloth yours and Miss Dysart's; sorry
If it ain't big enough," with a derisive
glance round the huge, bare chamber.
"You mean, we are to have but one
room between us?"
"Just that, miss. Neither more nor
less. And good enough, too, for those
as "
"Leave the room," says Griselda, with
a sudden, sharp Intonation, so unexpect
ed, so withering, that the woman, after
a surprised stare, turns and withdraws.
CHAPTKU III.
A few days later the girls are sitting
in the garden. It is a beautiful day.
Hveu through the eternal shadows that
encompass the garden, and past' the thick
yew hedge, the hot beams of the suu are
stealing.
"A day for gods and goddesses," cries
Griselda, springing suddenly to her feet,
and flinging far from her ou the green
sward the musty volume she had purloin
ed from the mustier library about an hour
ago.
"Perhaps I'll never come back. .The
spirit of adventure is full upon me, and
who knows what demons inhabit that un
known wood? So, fare thee well, sweet,
my love! and when you see me, expect
me." She presses u sentimental kiss up
on her sister's brow, averring that a
"brow" Is the only applicable part of her
for such a solemn occasion, and runs
lightly down toward the hedge.
She runs through one of the openings
in the hedge, crosses the graveled path,
and, mounting the parapet, looks over to
examine the other side of the wall on
which she stands, after which she com
mences her descent. One little foot she
slips into a convenient hole in it, and then
the other into a hole lower down, and so
on and on, until the six feet of wall are
conquered and she reaches terra lirmi,
and finds nothing between her and the
desired cool of the lovely woods.
With a merry heart she plunges into
the dark, sweetly scented home of the
giant trees, with a green, Boft pathway
under her foot, and, though she knows It
not, her world before her.
It is an entrancing hour. She has stop
ped short in the middle of a broad, green
space encompassed by high hilts, though
with an opening toward the west, when
this uncomfortable conviction grows clear
to her that she Is lost. She Is not of the
nervous order, however, aud keeping a
good heart looks hopefully around her.
Far away over there, in the distance,
stands a figure lightly lined against the
massive trunk of a sycamore, that most
unmistakably declares itself to be a miiti.
His back Is turned to her, and he is bend
ing over something, and, so fur ns she can
judge thus remote from him, his clothing
is considerably the worse for weur. A
gamekeeper, perhaps, or a well, some
thing or other of that sort. At all events
the sight is welcome ns the early dew.
i To lip continued.)
To ii Poet.
To learn poetry "for repetition" Is
doubtless a menus of cultivating n
knowledge of literature, but schoolboys
sometimes regard the authors of iwoms
learned as taskmasters mid personal
Gnomic. This view Is amusingly ex
pressed In u letter which was found
among the papers of the venerable
Gorman poet Oelbol. It was written
to litm by some schoolboys of Lulicck,
and Is signed "Karl Heckmunti, II.
Klasse." The letter Is printed In Lit
erature. After stating that two boys
bail licoii Hogged Iwcause tliey could
not learn Horr Gelbel's "Hopo of
Spring," the letter reads as follows;
Wo suppose you did not think of such
things when you wrote the poem. The
Herr Lohrur says It Is a very beautiful
poem, but there are so many very beau
tiful poems aud wo are obliged to learn
tliein. Therefore wo beg and entreat
you, esteemed Hurr Golbel, make no
more beautiful poems. Aud to make
It worse we bavo to learn tho biog
raphy of ovury poet, what year ho wan
born In, and what year ho died in. We
write to you because you aro the only
pout still living, aud wo wish you n
very long life.
Senator Mark Hannii wears as a
watch charm a gold nugget which Is
worth sovural hundred dollars. It was
presented to him by a number of Muth
odlst friends who reside In Cleveland,
Ohio.
AHOUTTJlKHIOaJUJMl
MACHINE THAT PRODUCES THE
MOVING PICTUHES
llreut I'litiite for Them In Kiliicntlnii
Some of the Use to Which iiicy
May lie Put - How (lie l'llins Aro
Mode.
There is n great future for moving
nlitiii-iM III iwliii-iithui. Tit Hut Insular
child what more Impressive method of
Information us to what a warship is
like In alt Us majesty than (o show him
one In motUmphniogrtiphy? The chil
dren of tint (Ynti-iil Hlitlcs will bo
shown waves dashing high upon tho
strand, or rolling In gentle billows on
the bathing bench where children are
at play. There nre city children, too,
who can be shown harvesting and hay
ing scenes In the great West; cows,
horses, and all animals, wild and tame.
Aud for both rurul and urban young
sters ,the uiutoscope will display the
Indian, the Coiiamau, the Zulu all
races of men mill their maimers and
customs. To the geography class the
uiutoscope will display the rapes, riv
ers, cities, bays, towns aud historic
buildings that heretofore have been but
names to the bouk-duascd scholar. He
will be shown the Mulr glacier In Its
might v disintegration. Vesuvius In
eruption, and Niagara's resistless llood.
It will take the scholar up the Danube
or down the Mississippi, or show 111 lit
the wondrous panoramas of Loudon,
New York. Paris. Hombay and Canton
life. To the history class the niulo
si'iitio will show the l-rent liersoilltgos
of to day, as they lle and move aud
have their being. What mote vital sug
gestion of the war with Spam than tho
two views or the Spanish warship Vis
ea.va one showing her at 'anchor In
New York harbor, her captain. In bitter
Jest, training his cannon ou the city;
the other ll battered wreck upon the
beach of Santiago a few weeks later?
Life-motion pictures are made with
one type of camera and projected by
two kinds of machines, 'l tie moving
picture camera Is arranged so that,
when turned bv a crank, either by haml
or by an electric motor, the sensitized
tllm passes behind the lens at a rate of
8'JO feet per minute. Hut. to iniike each
picture, this tllm must come to a dead
stop for oae-soventcenth part of a sec
ond, during which time the shutter of
iln i-niiicm oni'iis anil closes. Then III
less than the hundredth part of a sec
ond the 1 1 1 in moves down about two
Inches. 11 ml tho nroccss Is repeated un
til the picture Is finished. From one-
half n minute to n minute Is siitllclent
time to tuke ordinary scenes In life-motion.
Five hundred or six hundred men
marching eight abreast can pass at a
u-niu n l-Ivimi nolnt In one minute: nnd
so, In taking Ilfe-inotlon photographs of
a parade, the operator of the camera
turns on his machine only at the mo
ment Important personages are passing.
Pictures three minutes In length or
longer are often taken, but experience
has shown that long pictures on the blo
graph grow tiresome.
A developed blograph Him Is simply n
ribbon of seuil-trnnsparciit celluloid
three Inches wide, ou which nppeurs a
succession of pictures. These pictures
nre two Inches high and cover tho tllm
to Its edges, while between each pic
ture there Is n margin of one-sixteenth
of an Inch. A plcture-lllm of a scene
that has lusted n minute will bo three
Inches wide and ;U!0 feet long. On It will
be 1,81)0 separate photographs of the
subject. The camera makes exposures
at the rate of thirty distinct snap shots
per Becond, and the blograph or mitto
scope (by which names the two forms
of reproducing apparatus are distin
guished) exhibit them to spectators at
the same rate of speed. The eye cannot
detect where one picture Joins another,
for they pass at the rate of 1,800 pic
tures iter minute. Everybody's Maga
zine. USES HEIRLOOM RECIPES.
rlccrvt of Fine Cookery nt n New York
Woman's Koxtuiirunt.
The trio or lunehers that went Into
the Utile home restnuraut out of curios
ity lingered long to eat and praise.
Such flavoring!" "Such seasoning!"
they said to the proprietress. "Where
did you get your recipes?"
The smart little woman smiled In ap
preciation of these little compliments.
"You are right." she said. "In iittrlbu
ting my success to the recipes. With
out them I should have been a rank
failure. With them 1 have been ublo
to establish a profitable business down
ou this corner.
"My cook book Is simple. There Isn't
another like It In the whole country. If
It should ever be given to the public it
would be no misnomer to call It the
Illue-Itlood Cook Hook, for every rcclpo
therein Is an heirloom of homo old
American family.
"1 never knew until I went Into the
catering business how many families
own a special dish that Is looked upon
as their own property. Indeed, the old
colonial family that has not such a pos
session Is rare, and friends and neigh
bors all respect the sanctity of this
recipe, nnd would a soon rob them of
valuable chattels as to purloin the se
cret of that dish, which was, perhaps,
Invented by Homo great-great-grandmother
nnd solemnly bequeathed to
posterity along with old laco nnd satin
dancing slippers.
"In one respect these recipes aro llko
unto Hhakspearo's women they bavo
nn Infinite variety which custom cannot
stale. Somo treat of a special way to
fry chicken, others tell how to preparo
roastB nnd vegetables, nnd still others
relate to desserts. Hut no matter what
you want to cook, If you follow tho
tnlnuto directions given you can't help
but turn out a culinary masterpiece.
"It was through pure luck that I so
cured this Invaluable manuscript work.
In my palmy days t was acquainted
with man) ladles who are now custo
dians of these recipes, und when I llrst
turned my attention lo a restaurant,
their sympathies were enlisted In my
behalf, and (hey kindly iin'cred lo limn
Hie secret of their ruinous dishes, pro
vided I would exercise proper precau
tion and divulge nothing to curious pat
rons. Then Ihey wrote lo rrlends who
were also cherishing grandmother's
particular way of making paucakes or
cooking riibblt. and recommended mo
us an honorable, secretive person, to
whom It was advisable to loan the fam
ily treasuie. In almost every Instance
this request to uccoiumodiito mo was
complied with, and my i ollectlon or spe
cial dishes now Includes tidbits favored
by the exclusive families) of the Mast,
West. North and South, not to mention
u few foreign concoctions, I consider
that no greater honor could have been
bestowed upon me tbuii the loan of ma
terial for my cook book, for never be
fore has the most privileged guest
probed the secret or those choice dishes.
"According to agreement." said tho
proprietress, according to the Now
York Times, "my knowledge thus ob
tained Is to be Jealously guarded, but
In the case anything ever should hap
pen whereby my collection of recipes
could be put ou the market, the house
keepers aud chefs of the laud would
have a right little gold initio to work
on."
CUHB ON INQUISITIVE PEOPLE.
Ctilciiuo .Miiii'x Way of (Wllliitl Kid
of mi IiiiimiiIciiI Crowd,
"Some people bae a great deal of
curiosity," Nitld a Chicago traveling
man ns he sat swapping experiences
with a group of tils rellows at the club.
"On my last trip South I took In u
town that 1 had never visited before.
The town was growing, and, among
other liupiovenielits, was the establish
ment of a public stenographer In the
olllco of the principal hotel. The sten
ographer, a pretty young lady, seemed
quite an attraction to the young men or
tho town, and there was geeurally a
dozen or more of them banging around
her.
"I had quite a lot of writing to do
when I arrived, and I engaged her for
the evening, and after supper I sat
down to dictate. The usual' crowd of
youths and men were around, and when
I began they at llrst moved back to a
respectful distance. After a few min
utes, however, they begun to edge
closer, und tlmilly formed a ring around
the stenographer and myself -so close
that they could bear every word of my
dictation. This was very annoying,
and I determined to put an end to their
Impudence. So 1 began dictating a let
ter to my wife. In which I sHike of my
arrival In the town, of which I gave a
brief description, and then continued:
" 'The people here are the most socia
ble I have met. As 1 sit hero dictating
n dozen of them nre crowded around lis
tening to every word I say. This Is no
doubt, a flue trait, but It Is somewhat
annoying to the pretty girl who Is do
ing my work.'
"In u minute the listeners began to
move away, and after that I was not
bothered with their curloslty."-Chl-cago
Inter Ocean.
A Poet unit llio King.
A poet whose lines never would scan
was summoned before the king und
commanded to show cause, why he
should not be put to death.
"If your ear Is Imperfect." said tho
king, "you could count your syllables
on your lingers, like an honest work
man." ".May your majesty outlive your
prime minister by as many yearo as
remain to you," said the poet reverent
ly. "I do count my syllnlilcs. Hut ob
serve, my left band lacks a finger bit
ten nlT by a critic."
"Then." said the king, "why don't
you count on the right hand?"
"Alas!" was the reply of the poet, ns
he held up the mutilated left, "that Is
mposslble there Is nothing to count
with! It Is the forollngcr that Is lack
ing "
"Unfortunate man!" exclaimed the
sympathetic monarch. "We must make
your limitations ami disabilities Imma
terial. You shall write for the maga
zines." San Francisco Examiner.
An liilercNtlug Investigation.
Dining his summer vacation, an Km,
llsb professor traveled about the coun
try, asking every tramp that he met
why ho didn't work. Ho Interviewed
two thousaii I vagrants, and, classing
them according to the various reasons
they gace for not earning their dally
bread In an orthodox manner, we get
the following: Six hundred and llfly
threo said they were willing In work,
hut could not obtain any; four hundred
and forty-llvo could not give any tea
sou that would hold water; threo hun
dred and one thought that no one ought
to have to work, and If somo people
were foolish enough to do so well,
they Intended living on those said peo
ple; four hundred and seven were ou
their way to procure work at distant
towns, having letters In their posses
sion promising them employment nt
tho said towns, nnd tho remaining one
hundred and ninety-four were waiting
for relatives to die and leave them
their money.
I'lXJIl'RHSCH II liOt,
"Ilns she an exprcsslvo faco?"
"Well, part of It Is."
"Which part?"
"Tho tongue." Philadelphia Hullefln.
Iiisiii'iiueo In Germany.
Tho Germans aro a cautious people.
There, are 17,000,000 people Insured In
tho empire.
If a woman ever had enough pluck
to go out and dig for greens, she woTihl
spoil the effect by saying thut she wur
after ferua.
DAM'S HOMN UI.A8T8,
Wiirnlim Notes ChIIImb Ho Wicked lo
l(ciieiiliincr
A IT II remem
bers Ills prom
ises und so for
gets Us own fail
ures. The miracles of
dhrlst can only
be Judged in tho
light or Ills mis
sion. The surplus
c Ii ii re Ii In the
l T' communlly will
nlwavs be a sheep stealing church.
Hygiene Is not holiness, but holhioa
will Include hygiene.
Glib religious phrases lire but tho
froth ou shallow eddies.
No man can speak for God unless ho
has been speaking with I Mm.
He who would be great In tho day
or trial must be great In that or trifles.
Itlches In religion must be measured
by expenditure rather than by Income.
Where the church Is not overcoming
the world the world Is overcoming lliu
church.
The preacher who panders to tin
throng will get no approval from tho
Throne.
If Christian conversation Is not a
means of grace It will bo a means of
disgrace.
When the church sells Us principles
lo buy up the rich inn ll It Is quite apt
to find itself sold.
COASTING IN THE THOPIC8.
Sport Hull Ilns IIccii liujojcd Time (lilt
, of .Mind In lliiiill.
In one form or another coasting Is
among the most ancient and universal
of amusements. Incongruous as ll
sounds, this has been it favorite sport
In Hawaii time out or inliiil. Tho
author or "Hawaiian America" de
scribes the possibilities of coasting In
(be tropics.
It seems Impossible that any speed
call ho obtained with the long native
sledges without the alii of snow, and
yet there Is abumbiui evidence lo prove
It. The course, made of dry grass nod
smooth stones, was laid down the side
of a sleep hill, and the pace attained
sent the coaster quite a distance across
the plain at the foot of (he runway.
In my travels over tho Islands I no
ticed these old courses, very plainly
marking several precipitous hillsides
and suggesting a considerable aiaount
of toll in their original making. The
sledge was only six Inches wide by
three Inches deep, and about twelve
feet long, made very stoutly of hard
wood.
A curious variation or the sport of
coasting still lives In Hawaii, and
serves to keep alive the unlive skill ot
the Inhabitants. This Is surf-rlillng In
a cuius- or on a oulnl.
j The oulnl Is a board uiiiile or the fa
nous I; on woisl about twelve to eigh
teen Inches wide and from six to eight
feet long, often with a Hat surface, but
usually with both sides slightly round
ed. Pushing the boards before them,
the natives swim beyond the breakers,
where they wait the approach of a suit
able Incoming wave. When a big onu
1 comes, Ihey lie ou the board race down
ward, and paddle with both hands und
'reel shoreward, until the wave over
'takes them, when by export manipula
tion the oulnl Is kept on the fuce of tho
j waves and coasts toward the shorn at
'steamboat sliced. As the board rests
on the face of the wave at n considera
ble angle, some Idea may be had of tho
skill required to keep it there during
thu qiinrtcr-iullc rush for shore, yet
' somo or the natives become so expert
that they stand upon the board during
'the steadier periods of Its flight.
In a canoe with two strong paihllcrs
and a helmsman of experience und
skill, the sport Is not less exciting. In
front, the bow, cutting the water, sends
strings of spray backward and up
ward. At the, stern the great blue
'green wall cutis above ami over you,
and If you are a sentient creature, your
pulse thrills with an exhilaration that
no other sport can supply. It Is tobog
ganing without Its blinding, gasping
sliced.
A Coiiiiiioiiplneo City.
Hcrlln, us compared with London, Is
an upstart cJty, and the Hcrlln crowd
suggests the appearance of people of
some' great village. They look com
monplace, as If Just taken from tho
ranks of tollers that have not yet had
time and money to cultivate the more
graceful arts of life. Tho dressing of
Hcrlln women Is mostly execrable, anil
that of tho men Is scarcely better. You
wonder that so much of ugliness of at
tire, so much commonphicciicsH In the
appearance of men und women could
ho got together. It Is In such a mo
ment that you feel thu full dlffcronco
between London und' Hcrlln.
Concealment,
"You say you aro a detcctlvu?"
"Yes."
"Hut ought you not to conceal (ho fact
to somo degree,'
"I do."
"How?"
"Hy not detecting nnythIng,"-Wash-Ington
Star.
Military Kite.
Kusslan engineers are experimenting
with a military kite which will, It la
hoped, provo useful for rucoiiimltcrlii'j
purposes.
Cheap Hallway I'uich.
It Is said that thu cheapest railway
fares In tho world ate lo bo found lu
Hungary. '
Tho next time you aro tempted to
spoud a dollar foolishly, reflect how
much red Ihiimel It will buy when you
are old, aud rheuiuuMc, and poor.
i-v I