for the PHHRTo? shyness, half cf leada many a woman to shrink away from the first hist of ad vance to which her hearf responds. Hcw e7er, even if a little aggrieved and cSended, he had no mind to -cut off his nose to spite bia face' by losing hie chance of No. 7 1 but he had no mors time than to inscribe his initials on her programme, and to observe that there were other dances to spare, which she might have given him had she chosen, when he per ceived Harold Frayne approaching to ■ claim his dance. Frayne liked dancing, and Miss Hamil ton's step went well with his; but to Urn this dance was no glimpse of Paradise, joata good waltz with a nice girl who waltzed well. He had, indeed, sought the dance with her chiefly as a means of ful filling his promise to Agnes Thorold ; and if he were at all dizzy .at the close it was merely in his head. The dance over, he proposed a torn in the garden, bat Clarice demurred, she thought it wonld be too cool; he then suggested that it would be pleasant in the conservatory, reflecting that the con servatory would aff rd as good an oppor tunity as the garden for a tete-a-tete. "Wfcen Lc had succeeded in getting Clarice into a secluded corner—under the very palm-tree in the -.hade of which Sir Henry and his betrothed had lingered but now— he lost no time in introducing tho sub-% ject, with a not very succee?f al attempt at a casual air. 'I was talking to Mrs. Thorold the I and I—[ men the pleasure of iemed very much i- ed, her eyes ger yet cautious I lived here ?* I mentioned it. Ed at it abruptly osee you.' looked startled w scarcely aeton like to see her!' thoughtfully, ai it would not be at go to her. and •you will not re s b ) little we can. her now.* thwart any wish, unkind, bur, Mr. eive how painful know that her ve of her seeing y avoided men cause there are he very thought oi me, trie mention or my name, must recall to her memory— any renewal of which, naturally, their great object U lo *hield her.'

' I understand/ he said. ' I know they rcean for the beat. I know their only anxiety u for h<r good. But in the cver ■fratneu condition of her nerves, it may not be so £j.re what realty is beet for her. Now that she knows yoa ore here, if eh» wishes to eee yoa, it ia aife to deci'« t-at it is beatnottothwartherdesire? She has so few wishes, she cares for so little now'.' ' I know, it teems hard—hafd!' said. CaWc-?, with (hatred in her fve and voke. ' Bat, Mr. Frayne, indeed—indeed J am not as bard aa I may eeem to yoa I 1 would willingly—only too gladly—go to Agnte,, but, ssk yonrtt-if. how ii it poi piHla that I can her without the con- B«i.r. against the will of her nearest, relfttivis, who stand almost in the posicion. of parents and guardiias to her ?' • x*Jpn _jjj.n*e th*-r ?' He iooked dis tu btilpbiied and disappointed. True, Clarice'd con;eit would only land hitn in a psl r ion of deeper difficulty, but her re fas-Infant disappointing agnas; meant l his acknowledgment to her th*t the one' thitg she had a-k«<i him to d j for her be waa < t v« rkbd to do! ' I do not decisively refuse.* she said.. hastily, yet hesitatingly. ■ I mast; think it ovur lam afraid it its impossible tor me to to manage it—yet I cannot bear to refuse any wish of bera without con *idt-ricif whether it wou : .d be posaib>,. and right, for me to consent. You must see how i am pUced, between two im possibilities that of my «.*:ing. an un invited, unwLshed-for visitor, to The Fir?,, and that f f a. king her to come to me." *lt could be manaaed.' ho suggeste*',, s mewtiit diffidently, euulenly ir g that tee arrangemri t he proposed w*h tcaicely respectful to Clarice. *I ra K ht **ko Mr* Thorold not for a drive, and ». —might—happen to meet' Ho yurc" v d the rxprewUfc cf doubt and tit- ik pi .1 ation uu Lor .'a.!. * I bey jour j;»fd >n/ he ad led hastily; I am pre suming too fax/ 'No, no V shoassured him. 'I tee it w jour acx etj on her bohaif. Behere me, 1 -tn pithisa w.th it Hut Mr. Frayne,.

consent. Without his con- as I do, his desire in tho matter, I cannot B9ek secret appointments even with her. If 3ir Henry is -aware of her wish, I do not think he would refuse her.'

' She will never, ask him,' Frayne sa ; d, moodily. 'You do not understand tho weak condition her nerves are in.' 'The more for that, should we nob hesitate at exposing her to the risk ot agitation?' she rejoined. 'Suppose it should upset her very much, we should be sorry, should feel we had done wrong. I will think it over seriously, Mr. Frayne, but at present I own I do not see how anything could be managed without Sir Henry's consent.' Frayne in his heart knew very well that she was right; but he tried, ostrich like, to hide hiß eyes from recognising it. Blinded and confnsed by his desire to gratify Agnes'a fancy, to do the one thing thing she had asked him. at any cost, ho still could not but recognise, even if he would not acknowledge, the delicacy and difficulty of the position; he knew that in his endeavour te bring about a secret meeting between Clarice and Agnes he was disloyal to the confidences of h : B friend and host Clarice's reluctance perhaps hurt and annoyed him the m»re because he felt that bis scruples were right and reasonable. It was with relief that she perceived her next partner ap proaching in search of her, and Frayne nims9lf was not sorry when their inter view was interrupted, although he had - failed to achieve the end with which he -bad sought it. | Mear while their tete-a-tete had not passed unnoticed. Emily Dunpier had observed their mutual absorption in their supposed-to-be-secluded corner, and any thing that Emily observed would be sure to be very soon, brought, to the notice of others too.

'Gerard,' said Nettie presently, as she came in from the garden, * some of these Chinese lanterns down behind the refresh ment tent are flickering and -flVinc a good deal more than they I wish you would just run down and have a look at them, and put any out that h?ve caught.' Gerard, who always fetched and carried for Nettie, and ran her errands with rao*e than the docility of a brother, went en this mission, end found that he had not been sent too soon. One or two of the string of brilliant-huod paper lanterns, which were Bwinging in the breeze, lad already flamed up and threatened to catch the frirged drapery o' the tent behind which they were festooned.

Aa Gerard Etepped hastily across the graas, and caught and tore down the nearest one, another man hurried forward from the opposite direction with a helping hand. The two together soon pulled do*n the blazing lanterns, but. as they trampled them out another caught ' They'll all catch j better pull down the whole lot/ suggested the stranger. * I think the end ones are all right, if we can tie up this c:>id a little ligoter,' said Gerard. ' Toere ! That'll do, if you will ju3t lend a hand with that one. Thank you for your help.' 'That's all right,' rejoined the other, with a free and easy tone, th* tone of an *qaal, as he fixed the lantern straight Uiislow, absorbed in bis task, had hardly glanced at the stranger who had coma to his assietanc?, untd now. Now he locked, and wondered who he waa. He was not in evening dress; he wore an overcoat. Nit a guesfc then, and certainly not one of the waiters A gentleman ; soinathing in his accent and manner left small doubt of that. If not a gu93t, who could he be, in the gardens at t hour ? * I think it's all safe now/ Gerard observed. There was no danger anyhow; but thanks all th 9 same for your helping hand.' * Not at all; it was no trouble/ said the stranger, and with a slight bow and an air of closing tbo incident, he turned as if to pass on his way. * Won't you eomi and have a glass of champagne/ sugi?v<;ted G rard hospitably. Invited guest or not. the man was cer tainly a gentleman, and had been helpful. The Strang r, however, declined the kind invitation with thanks, bat without wast ing many words; and just then the dis tant sound of tb'< music striking up reminded Onslow that it was hia dance with Emily Dampier, and he returned to the house accordingly, turn in* a half pnzzled glance backwards, however, and observing the celerity with which the un known helper about wh~ se appearance he feit carious and half-uneasy, disappeared into the shadows of the shrubbery. It was only a square dance he was privileged to eijoy with Miss Dampier, a Lincers. ' Sir Henry does not like me to to waltz with anyone else/ she had mur mured, with deprecating softness, 'aui I r<el it my duty to obey his wishes.; After tbo d.icce Onslow escorted his f»ir partner for a turn in the garden ; and she availed hertelt cf the opportunity of

Bwou know 9[ 7011 I telling came, naturally to Uiß." j ' Now you have someone else who has a Dearer and higher claim to yonr confid ence/ said Garard, who was certainly less appreciative of the privilege of that con fidence than he bad been two years ago. ' Yes; it seems so strange and new to me as yet,' she murmured coyly, with drooping head. ' You'll soon get used to it,' he assured her with cheerful practicality. I ' Yes. D j you know,' added thfc fiancee, *ho had sot yet said all she Ranted to say, with winning confidence, i"I fancy Sir Henry has some reason for not liking the Hamilfcone. It may be 'only a fancy of mine, hut see how I trust my friend and brother with even my passing fancies! I see, or rather I feel, with that intuition we were speaking of just now, that there is some sort of distance between them. He doesn't say anything, but he seems to avoid them. I can't help thinking that perhaps he may have known something about them before. Nobody knows much about them here. I have a feeling that he would not wish me to be intimate with Miss Hamilton.'

'Why not?' demanded Gerard, shortly, with a secret and ungallant inclination to shake the clinging hand off his arm. ' I cannot imagine !' as if in innocent meditation. * I have heard that men are very particular about a girl's friends, but I leaJly don't know any reasou why h* should not approve of the Hamiltons. Can you form any idea?' with charm ingly trustful appeal, which failed to charm. 'Not the slightest. I'm not a clair voyant or a thought-reader. As far as I know, they appear an extremely nice family.' It was not by an intention or desire of Gerard's that he and his fair companion had strolled further and further from the house, and now found themselves alone in a secluded part of the garden. Were they alone though ? The path, sh'ded by h"ch shrubberies and trees, was lonely, but they caught a murmur of vcice3—a low murmur which sank cautiously lower as their steps drew near to a turn in the path, ■Bhc.T'i the bushy woodrd b rder, curvirg back, left a semi-cireular nook, usually occupied by a rustic bench and table, had for this "occasion been moved to a place of more popular resort nearer the house. This nook would have been in deep shade but for a ray of moon light striking acro3a it, and in this secluded corner two people stoad—two people at whom the other pair, coming across them in the remotest part of the garden, could not choose but cast a casual glance as they approached and passed. The moonlight gleamed on a light dress, and both Gerard and Emily recognised C'arice Hamilton, and both had an impression that the man by her side had steppad a pac! b<wjk as they drew near. Was it to move out of the betray ing bar of moonlight, or to set a space, however slight, between himself and Clarice? They seemed to have been standing close together, talking low and earnestly j indeed their mere attitude revealed so much. People may sit down to rest, saunter to cool off linger to chat, but to stop and stand still is as a rule a sign of being earnestly absorbed in conversatisn Who, then, was the man who was Clarics'e companion ? Gerard's eyes were keen, his observation quick; hereco/nised in a moment the tall slightly-built figure in the overcoat as that of the stranger who had helped him to tear down the Airing lanterns. CHAPTER VIII. Neither of the parties, thus unex pectedly moetin r, made any advance to disturb the tete-a-te r e of the other. G>rard Onelov and Eoady Dam pier dis ci e tly passed oi withiut a pause, as if unobservant of the other couple in their leafy recess. Emily however, wa3 sharper sighted than Gerard had thought or de sired her to be. 1 1 think wt ware de trop !' she remarked when a'aß \ie distance. ' That s no >tc is evidently a place for love? s and for lovers only! But the happy man was not Mr. Frayne. Poor fellow I It seems to be ' out of sight' out of mind,' with his fair lady ! She nan evidently got another victim at her chariot wheels And did you ohservp, it's very odd, but he did sot seem to be in evening dress ?' (To be continued.)

It is semi-fitting and has bell-sleeves aad shoulder-capes, the trimming throughout consisting of machine-stitching, which develops into a handsome width at the bottom and takes a Vandyke shape sver the bust. Such a coat as this would very easy to make at home It fastens visibly with a large pearl or oxydised button, but' should also be secured in visibly by means of a fly-lap and buttons and buttonholes beneath the stitching which runs down the front opening. This model is. of course, suitable for alpaca, or any cloth other than rain-proof material, and would be a most useful wrap to have by one, sinci if storm turned to sunshine there would be no distress in appearing in so elegant a coat.

SUMMER HATS. Fruits are used a good deal on summer hats—cherries in particular; but apples and grapes and plums are also pressed into tbe service of milliners. A rich effect is> gained by a hat of cherry-coloured and yellow mixed straw, -with branches of cherries and cherry-coloured or dull greea ribbon bows by way of trimming Again, in our search for rich effects, wisdom bids us turn to a hat of burnt straw, wreathed with shaded red and pink roses, which hat is vastly-becoming to brunettes. Simple but charmingly pretty for general summer wear is a hat of gold col' ured straw, of the American sailor shape, wreathed round with small pink ' China' roses, and the crown banded with black velvet ribbon, a bow of ribbon velvet to match trimming the under-brim at the back and falling on to the hair. Another pretty hat is of French-grey satin straw, trimmed with a scarf of pale blue satin and a couple of large choux of the same, the hat being of the toque shape.

SHIRTS AND ELOUSES. Fascy flannels for shirts and blouses have never been Been in daintier variety than at the present moment. Cream flannels sprigged with flowerets in mauve or in rod or in blue, and sometimes havinr. in addition, a pin-line in black, are among the ntweafc fancies, and crave immediate attention. Tnere is nothing like good funnels for hard-wearing shirts, and the cyclist and the tennis player should fiippiy themselves liberally with shirts ot the kind before the holidays begin. Some of the season's flannels are striped, without being flowered, very cool-lookinar being a mauve flannel striped with white or a blue flannel similarly patterned. One of the figures in my group-sketch represents an every day shirt made of fancy flannel. It is tuofted at the top and mounted into an American yoke, a single box-pleat running from the throat to the waist down the Centre-front, Tbe slerves are of the ordinary shirt pattern, and are gathered into small cuffs. The other sketch suggests a slip blouse of chiffon or muslin with one of. the new rounded yokes, composed of lace insertion threaded through with black bebe velvet, and decorated with a rosette of the same. The lace cuffs, to carry out the scheme of ti ings, should also be run through with velvet. The waistband, pointed in front, should ba of lace or gold ealon. The blouse might, of course, be carried out entirely in err am-coloured chiffon, the laca matching; on the other hand the chiffon might ba black. A black muslin

blouse, copied from my model, would also have gie.it charms. No lining ;is rei quired, as it is a slip bloese, to be worn over an independent foundation. Other ideas that occur for the making up of the blouse are that it should ba of pale blue or pink or yellow mousseline, or cambric, either of which would look charming agiinst the lace and velvet-trimmed yoke. There ia something vary youthful-looking about this blouse—whicb, 1 should add, fastens up at the back—ana it would come in over and over again for various oocaßi as during the summer. p TO BEMOVE INK FEOM A TABLE CLOTH. feoak the seikd spot at once in milk, squeezing out the strain gently with the band. If the ink has been allowed to ' settle,' it will be more difficult to remove, and salts of lemon should be us6d. After the salts hf.vo been applied put them: away carefully, out of the ieach of children.

s§Kta PEftt'until HRTof Trade/ five ye*rs rngpSmmved of the Com- BWrand Statistical Depart- SPmg his journalistic career Sir SfjWw brought into intimate con- S»with the late Walter Ba?ehot, of mJßJgz> economical ideas he has always BBTrded himself as the inheritor in part. Hr is an author of considerable repute, Kaong his best known published works Reing his ' Essays in Finance,' ' The Pro grfias of the Working Classes in the Last Growth of Capital,' Eid '• The Case Against Bi-metallism.' W± PABSON PEER. Hna is new another addition to the PfjPurHon Pners. The Hon. and Rev. KSuner J?Tiville,s who becomes Baron BraybrooVe, makes!; the.' seventh. It \e curl us that the ttoo latest additions to the peerage—the Eafl of Chichester and Baron Braybrroko be of this class. Most of thes? ipus-m Peers begin life witb a some what remote chanco of bearing the title; theVesent Lord Bray, brooke, for instance, a ) the third and younuest of three brlmers who have Sossessed the peerage. * Lord Devon was rother to his predecessor in the title, as were the other reverend Earls, Bess borough ana Chiohesttw and; Strafford, while the Rov. Lords Saarsdale was nephew te his predecessor, being, himself a parson, the son of a pawon who did not live to enjoy the digniijgf of a barony. The new..-Baron, however: is interesting as having held a headship at Cambridge for close on fifty years. He became ■ Master of Magdalene College in 1853, and .will thus, all being well, celebrate his jubilee next year.

LADY LANSDOWNE. Her Ladyship has lately come a good deal to the front, as one of the hostesses who entertains ' for the party.' She is one of the late Duke of Abercorn's many daughters, and a hostess with whom the world of London has to count; indeed, she is among the very few hostesses who can achieve an almost entirely political party that escapes the reproach of dulness. Lady Lansdowne has much of the good looks and the incomparable distinction of the Hamiltons. In India she was quite as great a success at the Viceregal Court as sho bad previously been in tha mimic Court at Ottawa. Her husband (Lord Lansdowne) writes twenty-four letters after his name, beginning with the coveted KG.

TAMMANY'S CHIEFTAIN. Mr. Lewis Nixon, who has retired from his nominal chieftaincy of Tammany Hall b cauee he finds that he, like the entire Tammany organisation, is really managed by 'Boss' Crot-er from his rustio retreat in Wantage, took office under the im pression that he would be able to effect, reforms. Mr. Nixon differs from the chiefs of the wigwam in that he is|a gentleman. It was, indeed, theposi'ion beheld outside of politics that decided Mr. Cr ker to yub him in charge of sffiirs after the defeat of last November. Tam many defeated is Tammany respectable ; Mr. Croker ' resigned,' and Mr. Nixon stepped into his shoes Ha had ; been in politics for a number of years, and was already prominent among a number of young men of education and repute who hrped to reform Tammany from within. But his chief fame was won as a designer of warships. Mr. Nixon was born forty years ago in Virginia, the son of a rural Judge and Colonel of Militia. Educated in the United States Naval Academy, he left the Navy to take charge ;of Messrs. Cramp's famous ship yard, and since 1895 has been building big ships on his own account. He has designed and built some of the best ships in the United States Navy.

SIE GORDON SPRIGG, .- ; The Premier and Treasurer of Cape Colony, Sir Gordon Sprigg, resembles the late Cecil Rhodes in two respects. He is the son of a Church cf Englaud clergy man, and reasons of health compelled him to emigrate to South Africa. He is the second son of tbe ■ Rev. James Sprigg, of Ipswich, and it was in the town of Dickensian memories he received his edu cation. It was in the office of a ship broker that the Cape Premier commenced the battle- of life, but he was soon ap pointed a member of Gurney's shorthand staff as a Parliamentary reporter. He practiced stenography until 'his health broke down, when he sailed for the Cape, and settled down to journalism in East London, the district he has continuously represented since 1873 our ' Parlia mentary Companion' confines itself to bald facts supplied by the Memters them eelv* s, but that of the Cape is breezy, critical, and independent in its style. Th)s is hosv it summarises the career of Sir Gordon Sprigg:—.'Far more respected than of yore, have learned to prune down the impulsive egotism, which got him into' bis earlier political trouble?. Devotion to public business exemplary. A practical and effective Parliamentary debater, scrupulously correct in diction, but hard and narrow in his range of ideas.' He is a Btaunch abstainer. MAHARAJAH OF JAIPUR. One cf the leading Indian Princes, the head of the Kachwaha branch of the great Rahtoi dynasty, the Maharajah of Jaipur, has a lineage that date3'back 1,000 years in the history of India, and a succession of 105 generations from the founder cf the Kingdom of Jaipur. More thanthat in popular, legends. Together with" Jodhpur and Undaipur, his desoent is traced from Kama, thehero of antiquity, whose deeds were recorded in the ' Rama yana,' the national epic of India,;when' Troy was not built, when Tyre and Car thage were yet unknown—when Israel still wept in bondage by the waters of Babylon. Born in 1861, he ascended the throne of his forefathers in 1880, and re-: ceived full governing powers on attaining his majority in 1882, *

Possibly BBPuotivo development BP*We» however mistaken, the injustice of com- But it requires asso fflSlrcn and force of numbers to bring TOese things b • a successful issue. Only through capibie representatives ban markets be explored and new opportunities pointed out. If producers followed up these matters more carefully, by mjans of efficient organisation and thorough study of the conditions by competent agents of their own selection, it would, quickly tell favorably on the degree of prosperity arising from improved relations with the markets. The transportation problem cannot, however, be wholly controllod through the efforts of rural producers. In some parts there is need of men in rail way management who have minds of suffi cient foresight to see the effects of a given policy toward.rural interests. There is need of men in our Federal Parliament who have the vision to see t hat in the , long run any unjust policy tends to ruin rather than prosperity. Recently New Zealand offered turnips at twelve shil lings and Bixpence per ton, a nutritious feed for our starving stocky but it cann"t be utilised unless a duty of J>2 6s per ton be paid. It should bo possible, at a time of such stress, to utilise this crop for our starving flocks and herds. The states manship which tauU out cheap fosd, leaving sheep and cattle to-starve, is a perversion-of true Australian policy.

NECESSITY OF CHANGING POTATO ..- . - , ■ SEED..

Potatoes may be grown fairly well on nearly all kinds of soil. On a field of drifting sand, on which neither mortgage nor deed could be obtained because it was considered so unprofitable, potatoes were, grown to the value of more than twenty pounds per acre in a single season. The potato thrives best on a light loamy . soil, neither too dry nor too moist. The most agreeably flavoured potatoes are, almost always obtained from newly broken pasture ground not manured, or from any new land where th 9 soil is suitable; also potatoes luxuriate by means of frequent showers of rain*. No amount of skill can produce heavy, crops without plenty of water, but. the soil must be well drained. The potato plant properly belongs to a mild climate, but in warm climates it degenerates rapidly and soon fails.; Seeds of all cultivated plants are kn~.wn to fail so frequently that the necessity of a change occasionally is now recognised almost everywhere. These tubers grown in a cool climate seem to produce plants of the greatest vigour. Those of the saihe variety grown in a warm district produce plants on which their crop, of tubers mature earlier, but tiree plants are weaker- and shorter lived*, because the parent plaathas striven tb mature within to-* short a season, and the habit of^e|Ryripening is carried over into several succeeding crops. :Besfc authorities seem to agree that there are considerable difference in potatoes of the. same varieties grown on different soils in the same neighbourhood/and that varieties, most advantagoou3'y cultivated in certain particular soils which degenerate slowly,, if at all, often degenerate rapidly in dif ferent soils not far distant. Naturalists say that one of the principal causes of the exhaustion of ;-the -ve&etajtive powers of the pl&ht 'to propagation "from, tubers or cuttings of tubers, since this process is not properly reproduction, fcut one plant is divided and into, a multitude. The whole analogy of nature seems to show tbat by changing from one soil to'another year by year, the potato may livd longer and mere healthfully than if grown c nrinuously in the same spot where the seed first grew from the seed ball. Naturalists also say that the species can only be.preserved by reproduction from the seed ball. While farmers must plant tubers, in order to supply their wants, trusting that like may produce like or nearly bo, the stock seed will vigour. It is hoped that some means may soon be found by means of which,the vigour of , tbe plant may be maintained, and, if possible, increased.

Housekeeper.

MEJKB'ESH 'oranse peel thrown into tKHI wa^Br e^ora it is to boused imparts '&s& a pleasant fragrance:,and also softens it ' * ' .., Those, who do not like boiled cabbage or who want a new way of staging it, nny try this way: Pull cfi theouter leaves until yon-comb, bo ujo3,e that are crisp and. whita. Pull them off aad serve them with a mayonnaise as you would lettuc;. DELICIOUS COBN BEEAD ' One large cup of c ra meal and one small cup of hour; a half cup of sugar; two eggs, two teaipoonsfuls of baking powder, throe teaspoonfuls of butter, one teaspoonf ul of salt, milk to make a thin batter. Mix like cake and bake in a> bis cuit tin. This recipe is sixty years old and is commended by Harper's Bazar. POTATOES A LA DELMpNICO. Hash four medium sized- potatoes;;- put in saucepan, add'a half tablespoonful of butter, half cup of eream. a little salt and pepper'; stir carefully for five minutes. Turn mto a baking dish, sprinkle over two tablespoonfuls of brea 3 crumbs. Put on bits of butter and leave twenty minutes in a hot oven. ~ .. STEWED MUTTON STEAK. * This must be taken from the centre of a jleg of mutton between the fillet and the knuckle, which is always reserved for boiling. Trim the steak, and take away every particle of.fit.. Put it in a sauce pah just large enough' to hold it, with about half a pint of good stock, a carrot, an onion, cut in slices, two or three cloves, a small bit of mice, with pepper and salt. Let the cutlet simmer in this (after frying) fur about three-quarters of an hour, then strain off nearly all the stock into a clean stewpan and set it o rer a quick fire so that it may reduce to half its quantity. Then set the cutlet on a hat dish, ponn ever it the reduced gravy, anfl serve at once with any vegetable garnish preferred. f )

She was a housewife who weighed her when they came up &»mthe grocer's, and who fsad~ the fwany gas meter every morning in the week as one of her duties. When a water pipe in the cellar' sprung a leak the other 'day she knew exactly wh&t should be dose in the cas«, and «he went to the plumber and said: < One of our water pipes has burst.' 'Yes'm.' ' It is only a small leak.' , • Juat so, ma'am.' ',„'§ ;• It is handy to get at, and it won't take over half an ounce of solder and ft. ffca-» 1 . minutes' work.' . < - : 'Perhaps not, "ma'am-—perhaps not.' doubtfully replied,the plumber. 'But I'm sure of it, and when your man leaves the shop he won't have any thing to return for.' ' Very well, ma'am.' An hour later the plumb jrVworkum appeared, and ho was eieorfced down cellar and shown the leak. 'You simply shut off the water aud solder it up,' said the housewife,- = * Yes'm,'but— —' ' There's no more to ba done. You haven't got to go back to the shop to get a crowbar or shovel or wrench. Just go right to work, and I'll allow quar ter of an hour to finish up the job.' He went to work and she went upstairs, but in the course of ten minutes she caught him sneaking out, and exclaimed': •What'B the matter now? ..ifave you found some excuse for going to the shop P' 'No, ma'am—no, ma'am,' he replied, as he came to a halt. «Then what is it P What have you left the job for P' « Well, ma'am, while I haven't gjt to fro to the shop, I fool it my duty to tak<» a little walk and do some thinking-' ' What do you want to think about P' ' I wan't to figure o-it how to make a fifteen minute job last me two hours and a half, so that the boss won't send ma elsewhere to-day T As a reward for his honesty" he waa allowed to take a walk around the block at a slow gait.

HOW TO GET EGGS FOE NOTHING. A curious custom prevails at David stow, in Cornwall, on Shrove Tuesday. It is considered quite essential that every household should have pancakes at the mid-day meal, and those who cannot afford to buy eggs set about procuring them in the following manner:—ln bands of more or less tlian a dozen, the children commence perambulating the parish and visiting all the farmhouses in turn. At each door the children shout the following versas at the top of their shrill voices : Tippy, tippy toe. 5; Please give me an e?g 4nd I'll be go. . If you won't .give me that, G.ve me a lump of fat.-. . If you won't fiive me that, Give me as eld hat, •"■lf you won't give me that, '• Give me a horsewhip about my back. When this nonsense has been gabbed long .enough in different keys, and enough discord has been made, out comes the farmer's who seldom' fails' to brin< out an egg each, And something to eat for the child-en. If she has not e eggs to go round, a halfpenny each usually satisfies them. Many poor families get in this way more eggs than they can pos sibly use for the pancakes, aud they then turn an honest penny by disposing of the rest at a shop or selling them to another farmer's wife to put under a broody he-!. APRtL AS A BIBTH MONTH. Among inventors and innovators April is a favorite month for birthdays. It begins with Harvey, who discovered the circulation of the blo.d, and it his Hahnemann with his homcepathy, Gassiot with his water battery, Morse with hia anestbebicai and Lord Lietar with hi? antiseptic dressing, says the ' London Chronicle Two inventors of looms figure on '-the month's list, Brunei and Marconi also appear. In novators-like Mahomet and Booth jostle Jtogjatber anltheir, Zola and Hobbea (hot John Oliver) with Sir Robert Peel, inaugurator of bobbies and peelers, with Proebel of the kindergarten, Mary Carpenter of the reformatories, and Mary- Woolstonecraft, the pioneer of the new woman.. ■

j :•* QUESTION. i What ia the origin of the saying, ' Going ©ut to see a man ?'——Lincoln Hall, Washington, D. C, was the scene of , many lectures and sfao wa of various kind?. , Adjoining it was a restaurant, "ibe name jof the proprietor beitig Aman. One nisjht iin the win®.of 18'J5. Arteraus Ward j lectured ioj the hall* and when he was ' about half through his discourse he sur- " prised his jaudience-with the announce ment that they would have to take a recess of nfteea minutes so ai to enab'e him to go across the .street to see a mar. H, P. TracyJ then editor of the ' WasMn - ton Republican,' who was in tin audienc<», pancilied the folio wn; lines and sent them'to tie platform: 'Dear Artemus, if you will place yourself my s?uid« ance I'll take you: to .see [aim n withou. crossing trie street;'- Artemus acoeptel the invitation and while ike audienca awaited hi* ireappearahce be was making the acquaintance of Aman and luxuri ating at a i rell known restaurant board Of course, tverjbody,understood nutters, and theref t re it became quite common for men to get no between acts'.to 'go out to see a man.'j * ""]'' .';'' ' 1 ATJBOCITY LANGUAGE. • A new Reading has been given to the term 'free wheel; in Japan. A ccording to the' Kobe Chronicle,' a young gentleman was brought) up at the Ku Saibanstn the i other day charged with stealing a bioyolo. - Asked whjj- he had done the thing, he said he w«V a student of English, and seeing a bjicycle standing idle, near a doorway, aja English friend told him that it was a frao wheel, wherehp n he had taken it outi for a ride, when' a policeman ' interfered rtnd deprived both himself and wheel of their 'Tae English,' as he to'.ijT the judge. \'ia an atrocity language.'i. -, V. • N upkinej is an'' eloquent • fello #. I heard hira 1 .bring down ( bhe hj nae last evening.' \ 01 ■'.'■ ' -\o ■ • How that PV ■-*'■• ' He succeeded, in .pervading the land* ord to reduce the renf.*' ' - - •





Jack: * D >n't be do.vahearted,-old man!' Cholly: ' I cawn't help it, doncher know. I just pwopoßed to the sweetest cweashaw on earth, and she wefuaed me.' Jack: 'lt's rather iough on yon, I'll admit, but ju3fc think how happy you have made her/ Cope: ' I hear your boss expects to raise your palary sex' month.' Hope; * Yes; next month he eays he expects to raise my salary for last month, I haven't got it yet.' School Board Inspect- r : * Who is if. th»t Bits idly by diin r nobbing while everybody else is wcrkim P* ; g Bobby: ' The teacher.'