^v FOR EVER. "Atad i*'8 poeitlTOly tomorrow, Dick I" â- Kcl&imexi my ocyusili' Flo. And ahe aigliied ra't'hier heavUy, "If 1 w«re a duilJ inain» Flo," I rib- •Prvcd, "I Nibould resevit tlmt sigh." "I w.-m only thinkingVâ€" " "As it Ia. T syiiipat.Uiz« witbi it. I was Uiinkltiir too," "Whnt were you I'h'inkai^ of, Dick?" "I (lu Dot Be*," Biid I, "any use in running over tlieir n.imea." "Of rourSe^" said Fio^ hastiily, and wllh a blvshi, "ttiifi ia tiie real one, and •11 thoseâ€"" "Only were the real ones," I inter- rupted. "The tensity of lo^e ia even mora remarkable thaia iita Intensity." "Tensity f Wiiat does tLtt-t mean t" "B nveforward to iot^b of lie, not'tt- las," I cried. "But when I remember Daisy," "Daisy yiiioXV asked FlOu "WJitn, I say, I remiexaber Daisy, and Amy, and Philippa, and Mrs. Do,no, kJinB ill 1 don't mean Mrs."â€" "I'm glad of that, anyhow," said Flo *'i nhnji't te!l yaa. mitue, Ditk." "Vou're dyitog to do iA," 1 pronoum-ed after a mluule's clcae ezanaimatioin. "Mamma jays," remarked Flo, "that ^heo one is really in love one forgets •verythimgâ€" everyt'h'Lng, you know. Bickâ€" that htt.d happened before." "I'm so glud tha/t nothiing is invari- ably true," said 1, with a retroepeclive â- mule. "And when one ia actually married â€" " "i asked Philippa Worsley about titai," Boi.U 1, boddimgi "Oh, D.Ik, whkit did you say f" "tiilu.- saal tbut she remeiubered them Wii^ a mixture ot sUaane a>nd umuse- KiejU," satti I, iniialing a mout'biful al ^â- nolce from nay ciigarette. "X wonder," said Flo, with a sceptical »-.'>«-. "Whlcbf is niilpe better tha-n not ro- â- ormbering th«m at a'l. Hca.vens, Flo I is tnutrtuany a Bpou^ t 1 said t^s with Bonnis wfcrmi'hi. "Captaifl Worsliey, toW inc," Flo ob- served, tak!in|g no noticie of my queation, "that tbiey were sad, but sweet memo- ries." "If hfi tiMi iiiea.nt Ut," saiid I, "I sbooUd respect hODi. But proiwbuy yuu ex- torted it frooa ,lain." "WelJ, you dJdn't get anytliing so Bice out Olf Phsi:ipi>a," rejoin«d Flu, wil'b « sl^c^bt a{ip°ara.nnB of iirritatiuni. "Yea I did. Siv^ tuld una t>iicit I was Juet HUited to ytini," and 1 caressed Flo's liBnd ijn Ill's aj<jal olfectuouatis manner. "H>/w aLuj>.»t ytrti are Ditik I Uf course â- be meant that to be horrid." '"i'iicn sbe ahcwuld express herself t&ore lucidly/' "Now, t'af>tain Worsley Mntedâ€" t/h, QU.<« deliratAly, ytni know â€" thut I wa« Aiuown awa,y oa youi iJjok." "II'-''8 nevsr forg'jveo uie, " aald I with mucii gratilfiianion. "U>s knows that PhkiJipjia"â€" "Nonsense, Uiick, I koctw why hesaid K," and Flo uuuilied with a parade uf inystery. Bat 1 was not to be iavjeagled into askbi^ an^y queAlixuia on the aui>- iect. 1 x<«e and warmed myaell at the tixe, observing: "In the .onu w.ntcr erveninga, Flo wh>*,u you ha/ve been a Ulttle trying; it will be verj- eoottiiig to ait and tb'.nl. ftjrlprnly how dlffcronit ijt would i>av« been w.itiir-" "i abHil be in the other oruer," In- iejrupted Flow sturdiJy. "Yes, yes," I cjjBd, "pretendina t" be Inisy wxh your nKyyUpwurk, but droj>- p-.njj a furtiv*! Lear wbilie ywu tvunder "Whether hei," saild Flo, "would hajve t)|shaved to me as you do." _ "Kvery word they apoku," I continued "every sweet walik, every charmilng talik wo had w^th them wUl ciome back to UB, oaul we shalil feel how unr- t<olieral)le â€" " "la the actual life we are leading (xunparni to.â€"" "'>Vhat we mttSUt have ted I cried. Mid I fliiumg my f.«ar<''tle iintw the fire. Th^-di 1 8<ut down, fao.jig t'ho grate, and c»>njt.»vued : "Decidedly the ijponge Thfory m iwi obnoxious one. l.''or, loolt M^-i' at tlio -other Bi«le. If you chance ever to be pleuaaut, or to look at all pretty, orâ€"" "What a/n niiagiju«1ii,>n you liftve,ltiik ! No^v 8U|ii)o«c y«xi were l<y occiidjsnt t<i •eexn nuiv or to lo<ik nice, Dioki orâ€"" "Why thfin we ahull cry Thank Heaven we escaijieil I This is *nir H-'aven 1" and 1 laughed, "Whiit are you laugjullne atf" aaked Flo. "A toueh of semtJauenit I detected •ornewhcre," I oinewered, stretcihliin<f Out my li-gs to the blaze. "MjMiima tli/mJiH we're ljeiin« senliin- â- tenltiiL all the tltine," observed Flo. "It i.i part of the H|ionge Theory." â- aid 1 tolrranlly. It will! be peneLveil, frvum what 1 havw sad al««it lay at titude. tlliot Flo was behijid nie oliid 1 did not see wthat •h« was dcKiina diurilig tine iniiuse which foljmwed my la,st remark. Uuit pres- eaiitiy I heard qiutte close to mry ear: "Dck." "¥•â- 8 uiy darliina," said I, cheerfully. "Dck." "Yes, Flo; wlint's up f " ' "Oh, nhUhJinig," said Flo. It's mnu'h better to look oA iit aetuslbly, ianH it t Vkii. to expect too mAith, I mean. Of CKKurse, roarriDi^ isn't paradise, is it?" "Soini' say no^" I aiiG^vered, "That's flip ^mfortable thing alxxut |rMi, Dilnk. You'm nut wm of tb«8s absurd pi'ople who tibink they're goliiia tto marry an M)«iel andâ€" tell her st^- Mirt Hindi " "And tbnn rtJMind on Ihlar B/terw«tfd. I hope not JBuleed." "I'm not Thut aort of person, ftltiber." said Flo. "I know all your faults. DU-k. I just liilce ybu, you see; and tbiait's the best basis isn't it?" At th/'s mtamenlt I felit 8umeth.une passing over rag bood and just toucthimg my hair very liijrlitly. I took no no- tice. "It prevents aM ooreneasâ€" all sense of havinig been d«cein-ed," I observed. "And iit's realily just as pleasant as belmgâ€" siUy ?" remarked Flo in a mo«t senalMp tbne. "Just," said I, wiltb m-udb ajiparemt ctMwiction. "It was So naitural we slwmld miirry one anotluerâ€" from knowiing eaidh other so Ui7i{[, an/i being cousins, end so on, that we needn't"â€" Flo stopped. "Needn't what?" I asked in curios- ilty. "Why â€" why, needn't protend that it's moro than, it is," said Flo, and again I foI(t tliut 1 ttle ^meth&nigl on my hair. I sat stilil. "VtS, it's miuch tine best," said Flo aguiin. "Most permanent, you know, Dlik." "And much tJhe most reasonable," I added. Anothicr pause followed; then I per- cieined somethl'iijg on tihe side of oiy neck, and another VXlma on the other side of my neck. "Dick." was aa^d 4uit« close to my earâ€" and fortunatsly ac^ for the tone was very low. "Ia thi.s reasonable?" I protested. "WelJ?" said I helplessly regardimt; first one and then the other of the white thimgs around my neck. "Wou'.in't you Likei, just by tiie way of a cba'nig<\" asked the vxi've oit iii.y ear, "to tell me a little bit of the truth. "What liave you: been doljug to my hair?" 1 deuiBAided. sternly. "No but wouldtt't you, Ditk ? Just a liiittie bit, you koaw." "This," said I, "is a very sad break- down." "\V«'rn any bf them oa nice as me, Dirkf I luui to say no, you know. "Ur as char.mlnig, Dick ?" I rOuldn't 8a(y thoy were, could It "Or â€" Or as pretty, Dick ?" "I shaM (bawe tb locyk round to answer that," sa'.il I. "Oh, well then, never ntifnd, Dickâ€" no, nevermind. Because there's aomething else." "Hore stiJl f" I ezclaioned iu expost- ulation. "Yes. Dirk. Did ytfu e^er care for any of them one-quarter so muohf "So much as wihlit?" "You know. Did you ?" I eyeii the fire. 'Ulie fire seemed to wink with twinkling eyes at me. I be- ^'lcre the fire understood bow I waa situated. 'Did you? BK:ause you know, Dick, I never care-l, oh, anything liJce so much toT anybody asâ€"" i 'Not a h]iindr<Hlth part as much !" I cried, fervently; and then I looked tip â€"well. I meant to iook up at the ceiling but a face came Iwtween the ce.Ung and me â€" a faoe wi.th smllllirig lips and eyes like water in the sumilhline. I <iid wh.\t tlhie ptieiition appearod to suggest. "Tlien why <*o you pretend you don't" asked Flo. 1 was now im a poniltion to aoswrir the ilu<'Stlon th.'it nbd been passed by. "8o fad* a<) luy mrjnory serves me," said I, "I don't thimk Vtrnf were as pret- ty either." "You don't thijik?" "No, I don't thilaik tihey were." "You don't-" "NOk thr»y weren't," I cried hostiJ.y. 'Nothing like." "You see, you cttn be nice when you liike," observed Klo, as ii I had denied ilt. "How Jong aim I to be Diee fop I". I .utked. "Forever," said Flo. "Because there's Btiill timr to put it off. you know, ifâ€"" "I will be nice ^>^ever I" I cried, ap- palled at this threat. 'I lun afraid Dirk, I shall, tit»l" w4ii.s- pered Flo. .She deviates now and then iinto a nioet Iwcomiing confaision. "Yes, forever I" she re|)eated. "You ouglit to be ashamed of your- self," I o)>served. 'You may «»y what you like now," retorlixl Flo, begiliiiiniing to smile again, for ahe ihnd ceased for a momont or two. 'Th<'ii I venture to say that we have been very alieurd." "Very. Diek." "Just OS atieurd as (most people are." "Just Dick," saiifl ah« triiiniipihantly. "And that it woa not my fault." "You couldn't help it. That'a just tl" "Juat what ?" I asked. "It," aaid Flo, radiant, triumphant rrfsistiblp. "Then," soul I, "I'll bid you good- n'ghA." "Gooi-Tiighit, Dirk." "Ohâ€" erâ€" we meet tomorrow?" "Yes." nodded Flo, w.'th a wonderful blush. "A dejnallru tlien I" "A dejnttim I" nodded F!d. On tluu stairs I dl(9,nced to meet the Colonel. The Colonel .smii'rkedj smiled, wi»ik«>d. jerked hia thnumb toward the room 1 hitd U-ft. clh^^c.kIed, dug me iin the rllbs. "You are deplorably right," aaid I, "but you m«S:ht lihve put it liesa offiem- a.vely," "\Voll"obBerved the Colonpl,"it'8 un- cmnmonJy jolly, my lM>y, birt you can't •â- .xjwct it to Inst, don't you kJlo^v ?" I looked n.t the Colonel. He is rafti0h' my 9"i)i'it>r, a,nri was alxnut to be my »t"p-ta1 hcr-iniHllww. SUll, I aaid tO tihe Onloiii^l : "Oo t.o till", dBvill. GoodHnttelhft." Whnh shwwB that mam' is a v<My (lui'cr sort of crmtture. Aud 1 walked hianie tblmkiinp of thlligs <l)Bad oJnd gone, and of tjhiings that, as had been agreed, were to live fwever, And the two sets of tJhtnga wereâ€" weilJ, were they ?â€" just alike. A OAJXANT OROOK. Aliaâ€" Why doea Dolly call iTack her â€"darling highwayman ? Blancheâ€" HccRuae he held her up ho nicely when ahe thought shn waa goins to faint the other evening. NOBILITY IN lAED LUCK. HOLDERS OF BRITISH TITLES SADLY DOWN AT THE HEELS. One Grind* iiu Orguu, While Auolbir In a tiruoiu - Au Irlth Earl In Peuutyivaiiln â€" Mvnnrrb iVIllioat Tbronrji, Time, the great leveler, has played many cruel pranks with noble Luro- |ieau families, and the lordly race which in one century ha.s risen to higheat hon- or and vast posaesslons, may, in the next, be driven back by fate into tbu lowest strata of society. The year lt<'J** has just shown us Lord William Nev- ille, son of the English marquis of Ab- ergavenny and direct dcscemlant of the great " King Maker," Warwick, a con- victed felon, entering upon his term of iinprisoomcnt at Wormwood Scrubs. Who can prophesy what posiition in life the descendants of this degenerate Ne- ville w ill hold 1 When released from jail he will probably change his name und lietake himself to some distant colony. Hia father is a Knight of the Garter, England's highest decoration, his sons may descend to any level In tthei scale of society. OLD TITLES IN STRANGE PLACKS. Many old British titles are to-day found in curious places. Far away in Hijiilastan, there is a lonely little vil- lage, Alunow ta by name. The head man of this iwtty settlement is a swarthy hahl-breed, whode rightful name and style, as admitted by the clerk of the house of lords is " The Right Honorable Lord Gardner, Uaron Gardner in the (leerages of the onited kingdom and of Ireland." Lord Gardner's immediate anceetors , having lost their estates, went out to India, where they inter- married with dusky Hindu maiden.s. embraced Drahminism, and founded a Eurasian line of jieers. The present bar- on has the right to take Jhis ixat in the housi! of lords, but Caesar like, ho pre- fers to be chief magistrate in tiny Mun- o.vla, to remaining a titled nonentity in England. IJown in Maryland â€" at Northampton, Blodenaburg. Fringe George Co., Md., to be exactâ€" resides a country physi- ( Ian and umall farmer, who prefers to 1« kiioivn as "Dr. John I'. Fairfax." But iJn reality, he is the " lit. Hon. John Contee Faixfai, 11th Lord Fairfax," and a d<-scendant of the famous l,ord Fair- fax, who commanded the Puritan forces in the English civil war. The great es- tates once owned by the Fairfax fam- ily in England passed out of their hanil.s when the elder branch died out al' the en I of the luat ceutury. To-day little but the barren title remains to this llnglish-American peer. Loid Fairfax » lirotlier ana predecessor iji the baruny uas liettcr known as Churlea Fairfax one time clerk to the legislature of Cal- iiorma. A sou of the «loctor-bari>n holds the position ut salaried clerk in a New York business house. America ultio owns au udot|:ed Bri- tish iiaiunet, bir Charles Sluart-Men- teth, Itart., has long L>een a resident at Cuoaudaigua, NY., and is married to a New Y'ork lady. A LONG-LOST EAHL. The prcseoit t^arl of Atierdeen, gov- erilor-geneial of Canada, may not be Mail of Aberdeen after all. At any mo-nint his elder brother and predeces- hor in the title, may put in: an appear- ance. The eari waa u wild, wayward lad, who went lu uea and has never )jeen hearxl of since. The British courts aftiT waiiting a certain length of time, allowed his brother to claim the title and estates i>y default. There has never lieen, however,i any alttolute proof of tlio late earl's death. In the same way the death of the Archduke Johann, of Austria, who went to sea under the name iof "John Orth," has never l>een proved. The present Earl of Buchan, liefore siicceediing to the title, was a groom aoilo:'ca»ional jockey ; while the ninth Karl of Seafleld, while actually in |)u»- session of hia title was forced tu earn a living in New Zealand as a " hedger and dit<her." Kor years this nobleman's weekly wages rarely loae above a few shilling.s. Eventually he was apioinled lailiff in a little backwoods court of justice. 'AiN OHt;AN-GUlNDlN(i VISCOLNI". Vistoont llinton. son and hair of tlie Earl ot X'.'inchelsea ant Nuttingham, grinds a piano organ tbiuugh the streets of LonUun and Jlrlghtun, with a large placard u.sking lor alma. He takes tliis loursu in order to siiile his lather, who bos disowned him. aud, while public, curiosity concerning hiui WU.S riie, he managed to earn a good living. Nowadays, Jhe is said to lie so wretchedly |.oor, that the piano organ has been pawned. Tlie present Karl of Caithness, head of the great house of St. Clair, whs lorn the son of aji Aberdeen lianlo em- plo.ye of eciiall mean.s. His father sent him to the United .states, and fur years he " iiunched rattle in idalio. Eventu- ally, in 1890, his father succeeded a far off cousin in the earldom; and â€" hey, presto, pass Iâ€" plain "Jack Sin- clair, cowboy," liecaAt Viscount Ber- rueilale ,aiid hair to one of the oldest o f Scotch jiee rages. Within Iwelvi! montliH after his return from Idaho his father's death made him Earl of CaithnecB. The ton and heir of an English earl and himself a viscount by courtesy, ia at the pgresent writing working in a staldc in the lioer repiublic. He holds a fiul ordinate position among the grooliw, where hia knowledge of hnrses, aci|iiired during hiti (capitaincy in a "crack" cavolry regimeint, stands him .a good stead. Losses on the turf an<l the inevitable "woman in the case' arc aaid to have be.en the causes which Irove this viscount to aerve aa atable 'oy in the Ran I. A BARONET POLICEMAN. A constable in the royal Irish con- .-.ta'jiilary at Dublin is -Sir Thomas Fen- ton Kchlin, a seventh baronet. The Echlina lost all their estates in chan- cery and the head of the house la thna forced to act as a common policeman. 'Sir J. H. Rivett-Carnac is a w riter in the inland revenue office at Somer- aet house, one of the lowest and worst paid offices in the British civil service. Only a few months ago a great sen- sation was brought alxiut in ICngland b ythe succession of a hall jiorter nam- ed Percival to the title of Earl of Eg- mont. Kir Harry Yelverton. Goring, the el- eventh holder of a baronetcy created in 1627, was, when he succeeded to) the title, the keeper of a little tobacconist's shop in Tamworth, Derbyshire. He had starved as a common soldier in the Twelfty Suffolk regiiment, and his large family worked in the factories and mills around Tamworth. SCAl'TERED IRi.SH NOBILITY. i'erhaiis the present holders of the olil Irish titles .Nurmaji or Milesian, are the most scattered of all the world's noliilities. The rightful Earl of Clan- carty ,\b Justin MacCarthy, a carjvn- ter, until recently resident in eastern ennsylvania, Theobald Butler, Vis<-ount Ualnioy, is an inntceeiier in the small French city of C'halons. 'The chieftains of many of the great clans may be foaml among the peasantry of Ireland, or in the nobility ot foreign countries. I'he Duke of Tetuan. recently Spanish foreign minister, is recently the O'Don- nell, prince of Tyrconnell an.l lord of t'onegal. Frenchmen claim the titles of Earl of Limerick, Viscount Clare, Viscount Kilmallock and Baron Upper Ossory. The ex prime minister of Aus- tria, Count Taaffe, is an Irish peer and holds rank as Viscount Taaffe. The rajah of Sarawak, in Borneo, is on Englishman- Charles James Brooke. In 1814 the " wild men of Borneo " el- ected James Brooke, a British traveler, their sovereign. England permitted Brooke to take the Dyak throne. Hajah Brooke was succeeded by bis nephew, the preiient monarch. The march of civilization, so called, dethroned many rulers of primitive na- tions. Ex-Queen Liliuokalanl, of Hawaii is a case in ijoint. So also ia ex-Queen from her domains by the French. Ex- King George, of the Mosquio coast, de- losod by Nicaragua, is living under the protection of the British govern- ment at Jamaica. He gets an allowance from England of six shillings or about tl..% a day, and sjiends most of this liension in strong drink. Ex-King Dina .Salifon, whom the French banished from his hereditary realms on the Rio Nunez, lives in Senegal, uion about f4 a week. Y'et he once ruled over millions of subjects. The son and heir of Cete- wayo, king of the Zulus, ia a British priaoner at St. Helena ; and Prince It- urbide, the descendant and heir of Em- Ix>ror Iturbide, of Mexico, is a clubman or rather an ez-clubman at Washing- ton. D. C. Many contipental nobles of the high- est rank have al andoned their rights to enter monasteries. Count von Wald- U'rg- Wolf egg. for im.stance, gave up his estates and rank to hia younjfer broth- er, Count Maximilian, in order to be- come a monk. There is one. abbey in Siiabia wherg every inmate, from the prior down to the humblest lay broth- er, is a " mighty and well-lorn" no- Idemlin. STARTLING PILL STATISTICS. •iinie files ef iba t'onnBUiptlan ef M«ill«al I'i'lleti by Ike fmnlU'. I'nbUr. 1'hc ilritiab appetite for pftw can on- ly be gauged from the revenue receipt* relating to the stamp duties paid for patent medicines, which last year ^n the aggregate amounted to almost a quarter of a million pj«ind«, and by making allowances for the pills, dis- pensed by doctors and chemists, which are not dutiable. Ab allowance of a trifle over half an ounce of pills for each inhabitant ol the I'nitcd Kingdom for the year, can- not be said to be an extravagant; esti- mate ; indeed, such an allowance means but thirty-two doses a year, or one and a half pounds of pills to last a lifetime of sixty years. Placed in a straight line, saya Tit Bits, the pills of a lifetime would ex- tend through some forty feet, and there would be ^me 1,920 of them. 'The latter figure may seem rather larje, but if sixty yeai-s of pills were com- bined into one sphere, it would hare a diameter of less than four inches and a circumference of under one foot. It is not until w^ tnaice calculations regarding the bill as a national deli- cacy that we arrive at any figures ol magnitude, and then we find that some- thing lilce l,2t;O,C00,U00. pills are swaU lowed annually. If these British pill» were put in a straight line they would extend from London to Lucknow. The placing of the pills in a lengthy line of .'),03U miles would afford occu- pation for a pair of idle hands during eighty-one years.at the head of which time the owner of the hands would probably find the task of laying down three pills every second during an eight hours' day somewhat monotonous. If in place of putting them into an ex- tended line we placed the pills in rows of l,08."i pills, and having arranged the same numtier of rows as there were pills in a row as a base, we couli^ use the rest of the pills in making 1,085 similar layers, the resultant lulie would have e:ich of its dimensions rath- er more than ^ 1-2 feet. Having performed this feat, we could proceed to stir up the lot in a gigantic mortar, and having thoroughly mixed the ingredientsâ€" and what a mixture it would be Iâ€" roll the mass into one splendid spherical pill weighing (>37 Ions, an I possessing a diameter of over 28 feet, and a circumference of over 88 feet. Five men. six feet in height, standing on one another's shoulders â€" not heads, that would be too painful, esi>ecially for the one on the ground â€" w ould require the services of a small boy to crown the human Eiffel Tower in order to ?et level with the top oif the monster pill. THE RVK OF HER WEDDING. Hush ! Let me bide my happiness, A little while let grief hold sway. And Hwe«tness blend with bitterness. Before I give myself away. Soon, soon, must posa for evermore The M-enee of old ; new paths I ohooMO ; Oh. let mo count my treasures o'er. That, winning love's delights, I lose. Dear lxc>,miL< I How all its nooks and ! trees Recall my cihihlhood's joys iind tears. Mixed with immortal memorias Of twenty tranquil, transient years. tamiliar sounds of birds and bees On .summer evenings fair and still. Set to the mu«ic of the breeze, Or twilight tinkling of the rill. babbling brook, darling glade, Old church beside thine ancient yew, Where oft mine childish feet have .strayed, 1 bid y ou all a last adieu t fVar simple souls, so atanoh and true. In cottage homevs, o'er hill and dell. A di?tHnt home is mine ; to you A'ld yours 1 bid a last farewell I A la'<! farewell I Though all apiwar Part of my very being'.s whole. Linked with my whole life's sojourn here. Knit to each fiber of my soul. Linke<l w ith the golden dreams of youth, .'\n.l all its gay and gladsomt^ things. When childhood's innocence and truth • L'nt to each buoyant day its wings. My father smiles, and ohides in vain The tears my mother's love lets full; My -sister's heart is wrung with painâ€" Good-by I I toon must leave you alll V\An little hour I give to grief; With tender thoughts mine eyes are wet ; 1 almost seem to find relief In remini.scences and regret I One little hour! My woman's eyes With waning childhood's dews ure dim. .\way I Love calls! I must arise. And hasten forth and follow him. HEARTLF..S3 WRETCH. Oh, dear, sighed the young mother, i do wish I knew what to give the I aby to keep .him quiet. Why don't you try arsenic? growled lier la he lor lirolher, who wm tryinK to read the evening' paper. WHAT TWO OFFICERS SAW. The •Irancr Ktvry nt aa ABlbeoilratcA «hM«. In the whole record of so-called "su- I>ernatura' appearances" there is not one which is more thorovighiy authen- ticated than the following: Jolm Cope Sherliroke And George Waynyard were two officers In the Thirty-Third Regiment, and at the time of the extraordinary occurrence here re'ated the regiment was en .ser- vice in Canada. One evening, as usual, they went into a little room adjoining Waynyard's bedroom and commenced reading. After a few minutes Capt. Sher- broko looked up from his book and saw standing in a doorway of the room a man who wa.s a jierfect stranger to him. At a loss to account fur the in- trusion, Capt. Sherbroke turned to his companion to ask If the strangoi' was an acquuintance of his. Waynyard was as pale as death and apparently ini ajiable of speech. Seeing this, Capt. Sherbroke made no effort to atop the figure, which s'owly crossed the ajart- ment and passed through a door lead- ing to Way»i>ard's bedror>m. As soon as the man was out ot sight Wayn- yard recovered his faculties and cried out, "My brother I" "Your brother I" repeated Sher- I roke. "Wlint tan you mean, Wayn- yard ? There must be some deception. Follow me." riiey then went into the beilroom. a room from which the only passible means of exit was ttie one door al- ready referred to. They found the room em'dy I Tliis imiilent produced a profound impression amon.;? the officers of the regijnent, who knew that both Sher- broke and Waynyard were sober, cool- lieaded men of unblemished integrity. Waynyard declared that the appari- tion was the spirit of hia brother, and expressed the conviction that his br«H ther was dead. . When time had e'apsed sufficient to a' low inquiries to be made it w;is dis- covered tl at Waynyard's tirother was dead, and that lie hid died on th" very night on which hia .sidrit ha I appear- ivd to the astonished ofti crs in Camda. Of the two witnesses ot thi-i s'. ran'?e eiiisode one became den. Sir lohn i'ope Sherbroke, G.C.B.. aud the oth"r Lieut.- Col. Waynyard, of the IVenty-Fourtlj Light Dragoons. THEORY' AND PRACTICE. Good Minister â€" I don't see how I ana to get t1i.r'>ugh my sermon to-dav. It'a a'most church lime. f'^'- Fond Wife.â€" What ia the text? It is alKiut th*» wise and foolish virâ€" ' gins. • ,- Hut you were writing at tl.ai .sep-^ ' mou last night. Why didn't you lini.sh'' it? J • 1 couldn't; tine lanu}) ^veat ooi. -\ '^^ J