muf ? MMmmsmmmwi^mjmummmM "1 . I DARE HE? OR, A SAD LIFE STORV â- ^<>-*-Ch^<>^0^<>^<>^^>'><>^<>^<t-*^0'f^>^<>-^<3-^<>-t<y^^ CHAPTER XXXV.â€" (ContiQueil). As ho speaks, he begins to re(r«^l to- wards the door, but so slowly as to give liW plenty of time to rixall him had she so wished. Cut she does not. She only stands looking uncertain and distressed. H'' cannot take such a mc'lanclvoly im- pression of hor little face away for the whole night with !iimâ€" it would give him the blues too seriously after lliis dismal dayâ€" so he takes a step or two forward again. "Are not you ' rather lonely ?" he ailvs, witli an e.tpressivo Icjit round. She Hives a i=»^:;;;, uncomplaining smile. "Oh no ; I do very wt-U. 1 an» goner- ally alone at this time of day ; they like t.' have their evcniMs to Iheniselvosâ€" 01 least, father liko^b have nuunniy to himself ; I am sure it is quite natural." There is not the slightest truce of any sense of being aggrieved in eilher words or tone. Again that picture of the adored Eliza- beth of fomier days, of whose pi-atlle her father was never weary, whose jokes were always considered so unequalled, and whose pre-eminence in favor was so allowi-d that her interce.ssion and in- fluence were always employed by Iko others 'ks certain in their ellicacy, rises before Jim's eyes. "They are like lovers still," conlinucs Elizabeth softly ; "it is very jirelty when people are lovers still after nearly thirty yeai-s." ".\nd you â€" you write letters?" "No, I do not ; I have not anyone to write to." A pang of shame at his unwnrlhy sus- picion, coupled with a sense of astonish- ment at her simple confession of friend- liness, prevent his sptsakmg; and it is she who g»:M?s on : "f was writing an Italian exercise ; I began to learn Italian in Kloi-ence'- with the inevitable low sigh thai always acconii>anies her mention of that nameâ€" "and to-day, for something 1.) do, I look il up again. It has been a lotig day, has not it? Oh, what a long day 1" "Ixjng !" repeals Jim oniphatically ; "it might choose to call itself a day ; but many a century has been sliorler." ".S:>nieone was playing baltlod.jre and stiiUtlecock in the hall. I wonder to what number they kept it up? how many years it is since I have playcil baltUxlore and shuttlecock !" There is a suppressed envy' in her tone, which tells how far from dLsagrce- able the inm^ent noisy paslime to wliich sh.> alludes would be to her even now\ She has sal down again on the straight- backed chair from whoso elevation she had commanded her Italian studies ; a large groilsh cloak, lined and heavily cellared, and bordered with fur, hangs, unfasteiRxl at the throat, about her. Oat of tlie dark beaver her delicate neck and head ri.se, like a pale priiurose from out of piled dead oak-leaves in a yet wintry wood. Thwugh the door, which ho has left ope;i behind him. come bursts of nianiaic mirth from the votaries of Dumb Crambo. "What a noise they are making I" "I should think they wen-!" "I wonder what they are doing?" "I can inform you on that point ; they Biv playing l>umb Crambo." Site repeats the words after him with a lingei'ing intonation, in which there again is. or, at least, he thinks that ho detects it. a tinge of envy. "Dumb I'rambo !" "Would you like to join them ?" "No"â€" slowlyâ€" "not quite that : butâ€" it sounds ridiculousâ€" hut I should like to play Dumb Craralw again. We used"â€" in an affectionate, lingering loneâ€" "luo play it when we wero children." It is iiw ilrsl lime that she has ever voluntarily alluded to the Moat, and he calls to mind her earnest prohibition ad- dressed to him at Florence again.--t any mention of it. "1 know you did ; once or twico 1 plaved with you." "You ?" Stio starts. It is evident thai the un- lini>or(anl tact of his having laken part In their games has quite escapi"^! her; but, a moment later, her soft ;uid cour- teous nature evidently making her fear 'that tie will liik upon her obliviousness (l;- unkind â€" >â€" "Oh, yos, to be sure I" Then again l»l>sing into reminiscence, "what odd worils we used to choose sometimesâ€" wci-ds that nobotly coukl gue-ss ! 1 won- ii<T what words they have chtisen ?" He thinks of .saying jocosely, "shall I (fo and ask Ihem?" but refrains, l>eciiii.-e ho feai-s it would put it inlo her head to Bend him away. A ivort of piercing squeal makes itself heani from the salon. "IVi you think that can be meant for a pig?' asks Elizabeth, her tine ears prick- ed in iniaffeotet.1 interest. "Oh !"â€" w ilh a return of imensiness â€" "I wish lliut they woukl not make so much noise ; falher do«'s .so dislike noise. They luiglil as well have pul it off till to-moriow." "Why would lo-niorrow's noise be more endurable than to-night's?" "It would not have maltered to-mor- row ; father will not be here; he is go- ing to Ilammcim Hhira." Uurgoyne's jaw drops. Is Iliis llie al- ternative ^xiui-se decided upon by Mrs. l« Marchant? Having (ailed to disloilge him from .\lgiers, is she going to remove herself and her daughter out of his reach ? "Do you meanâ€" are you all going to Haniniuin Hhira to-morrow '.'â€"all going away ?" Is it some effect of light fixrm the ro.<5e- shaded lamp that makes it seem to him as if a tiny smile, and yet a smaller blush, swept over Elizabeth's face at Ihe a^ihastness of hi;i tone â€" «n aghaslness much more marked than he had inlend- cii it should be. "Not to-morrow ; not all of us. Falher and mammy are going there for a couple of nights lo see what the place is like â€" one liears such contradictory ac- counls ; and if they are pleased with "Yes r "If they are plea.sed with it we shall al! probably move on there in a day or two." He would likejo l>e sure that Jhis sen- tence ends with a sigh, but a prodigious sU.rni t)f Imnd-clapping from the extem- pore theatre pi-evenls his hearing whe- ther it h.is that regretful finish. ".\nd they arc going to leave .vou be- hind ?" "Why not? there wouM not be much use in taking me; and. as I tell you. they love being tete-a-tete." ".\nd you love being alone?" The moment that llic question Is out o' his moulh, he realizes its full unkind- ne.ss. He Is perfectly aware that she does not like lieing alone ; that slie is natur- ally a most social httle being; that, even n( w, ttiese frightened five nimutes of un- satisfactory broken talk with hini.self has made hep- kjok less chilled, less woe- begone, loss white. Her answer, if it can be looked upon as one, must be taken by him as a rebuke. It is orilj that she says nenously : "One cerlainly, d.)es hoar dreadfully plainly here with the door open. " Her tone is of the gentlest, her look no angrier than a dove's, and yet he would bo obtuser than tte is if he did not at once comprehend that her remark im- plies a wish that he should presently shut that door behind him on the out- side. He complies. With that newly- gaini'd knowledge as to to-morrow's Ilauunam Bhira, he can afford to com- ply. The next morning's light reveals that the weather, pleased witti having so in- disputably [roved its power of Iving odiou-> has recovered its g<x)ci humor. l>oy<ind the tree-lops a radiant .sea is seen laughing far lx'k)w ; and Ihe wet red tiles on the little terrace shine like jewels. .\ sea even more wonderful Ihan radiant ; no servile copy of ttn; .sky and clouds to-day, but with astonishing col- ors of lis ownâ€" a faint yel glorious green for a part of its watery breadth ; then what our jxiverty coniju'ls lis to call blue ; and then a great tablecloth of inky purple, which lixiks so solid that the liny while boats that are crossing it seem to be sailing on dry land. Fivin amongst Ihe glossy green of the woode^l hill, mosque and cumpagne start out. dazzling. In their recovered luslre; one c<x)l entrancing villa in especial, backed with a broken line of dusky stone-pines, staixis, snowy-aa-aded, enthr'jned high up among the verdure. Jim is very aii.xious lo be out of fhe way at the hour of the Le Maa-hanls departure. He has a pmilc four of Lxs ing waylaid by the mother, and having stimo earnest supplication addressed to him to abstain, during her atisence. from any converse with Elizal)ctli. He is not quite clear at what lime Ihey will .set oft. so, to insure himself against mis- takes, he resolves to spend the nwrnig and I'jnch al the Villa Watson, .\rrlved theiv, he Is show n by an .\rab luan-.ser- vaut Inlo the court, and. linding it emp- ty, sinks down into a caiw chair, and lets tiis eyes wander round lu Ihe foun- tain, lulllngly dripping uilo lis basin . to Ihe lib's, the while-ar. bed doorways, carved in k)w relief, and Ihemsehos "so low that it must l>e a huinble-sUilurot) IHM'.s.)!! who enters lliom wilhout stoop- ing. W lial a homo tor kive In idleness : Who can picture any of Ihe vulgar work c.f the world done in such a house? any harder lal»r ever entepxl ujxm than n listening to s«ime lady singing 'with ravishing division" to her lute? ^ The lady who presently joins Jim ap- pears, by her rullled air. lo have been engagetl ii|X)n no such soothing occupa- tion as luting lo a recumlicnl lover. "Yon will not nuiid slaying here?" asks Cecilia ; "Dr. Crump is in Ihe draw - ii:g-rot)in with Sybilla ; I am sure that you ilo not want to see Dr. Crump ! ' "I oaiinol oxpri-ss how litlle I wish It." "I cannot think what has happened to Sybilla'â€" wrinkling up her forehead in utmojod fu'.'iowsâ€" "but she is .so dread- hilly sprightly when tie Is there; shv^ never was sprightly with Dr. Cold- slreain. and he Is such an tmiHissible man Iâ€" Ihe .s*irt of man wlio, when lii-sl 111; oomes in, always .says,- 'Well, how- are we this morning?" Do not you think that it stamps a man lo sav 'How aiv we'."" "I Ihmk -It does." "H« talks such nonsenso lo her !"â€" with irrilallonâ€" "he tells her thai he. l<io, is a bundle of iKn-ves ! If you could only M.; him ! And one day lie told her I hat when lU'st he came here be had seen the Angel of Death waving his fans above her head ! and slM swallows it ah 1" "I am not al all surpris«d." "It makes me sick !" ':ries she ener- getically ; "let us go inlo the garden." .So into the garden they go : both the new one, wtiose luxuriant growth of ser- dure is the outcome of but «ight or nine years ; and the old one, along who.se straight walks Ihe feet of the Moorish ladies used to patter under the orango trees. Beneath them now there ar3 no white bundles of muslin : only on Iho ground the oranges lie thick, no on-j in this plentcou-s land thinking 11 wcrih while lo pick them up. Jim and his companion pace rather stienlly to a pretty Mofjrish summer-house, dug, a few years ago, by the English architect out of a farmhouse, into which it had been built. 11 is dainty and cool, with a litlle dome and lovely green and blue tiles ; and an odd small spring, which is taught to wander by liny snaky chan- nels into a little basin. They go into Ihe suininer-hou.se and sit down. "Yes, it is pretty," says the girl ab- sently ; but her mind is evidently pre- occupied by some other sub;ecl than Ihe beauty of the giant bignOnia which is expanding the multitude of ils orange- red clusters all over a low wall, making i! into one burning hedge, and has called forth an exclamation of deliglit from Burgoyne. What that subject is imme- diately appears. "Do you know wtw is in Algiersâ€" whom I saw driving through Ihe Place Bressant on Sundav afternoon ?" "Who ?" "The Lc .Marclmnts. Ah. you are not surprised !" â€" rather suspiciously. You knew already '." Jim hesilates a second; then renocting that whether or not he acknowledges the fact now, Cecilia Is certain to learn in a day or two at Iateit,-he answei-s with a Slight laugh : "It would be odd if I did not. seeing thet they are slaying at my hotel." "You knew that when you wenk there?"' â€"very quickly. "Of course nol Tâ€" with a oMvement of impatience. A pause. "1 suppose," says Cecilia, rather cau- tiously, as if aware that .she is treading oil dangerous ground, "that you have nol found out why they slampeded from I'loreiKe in that extraordinary way .' Oh, no, of coui-st' nol I"â€" as this suggi'.s- Iton is received wiih a sllll tii-ire acceut- cil writhe than her foniier om^ "It is not a thing upon which you could ques- llon them; and, after all. it was ttieir o\\ n affair ; it was no business of oui^s. was it â- ?â- " "Nol the slightest. " "I always used lo like Ihem." continues Cecilia pensively : "at least'â€" becoming aware- of an involuntary iiiovenient of siirijrise al this stalement on the part of he' neightwrâ€" "at least, they never gave rue Ihe chance of liking Ihem ; but I al- ways admiix-d Ihem. I wonder are Ihey more accessible than they were In Flor- ence? There are so few nice English here this year; everybody .says ttial lliei-e never was a year when there were s-.i few nice Fjiglisli F' The tenlalive towanls sociability im- uUed in this la.sl sjiee-'h is nvelved by J:m In a discouraging silence. He has nol I he slightest desire lo promote any over lure on Ihe part of Cecilia towards In- tiiuncy with Elizabetti. He knows thai Ihey would be unsuccessful; and, more- over, he is conscious that he would be annoyed if Ihey were nol. "I can fancy that this would be a very plcasBiil place if one had .soruoone lo g<. about wilh," continues she; "bul father grows less and less inclined lo move. Poor dear 1 he Is not so young ;is he was, and 1 am nol quite old enough yet, I suppose, to go about alone." Slie makes a rather wistful pauseâ€" a i>aiiso which he feels thai she intends ium to liU by an offer of himself as es cort. Dul none such comes. Kealizinz Ihis. she goes on w ith a sigh : "There are not many advantages In lieing old ; but. al least, one is fi-eer. and in a youth spent as mine is, there i^ ivally not miK'h profit or pleasure." Ihe lone in which she makes Ihis lugu- brious refieclion is so extremely dokleful Ihal Jim cBonol refrain from a laugh. "Cheer up, old girl ! Itiere Is a good lime coming ! It is a long lane Ihat has no turnmg. " But he contents himself with these vague forms of cons«ilulion. He ha-s no engagements of his own. Why, then, is iie conscious of so strong a reluclam-e towards tying himself by any promise I' Ihe liroadly-hinting lady beside him- self? There is anoiher pause, during which Cecilia looks down on the Hoor wilh a ballled air. and traces Ihe out- liiK\s of llie tiles with the point of her i-.vl sunshade. "There Is a band plays twice a week ill Ihe Place do Ciouverneineiilâ€" plays admirably. Now, I suppose Ihal there would be nothing odd ; Ihal no one could say anything; that It would nol be Ihe least Ituproper. considering our cumuvlion and everylhiiig, if you weiv I. hike nie to hear It some dav ?" "1 never have Ihe sliglilest Idea of what is improper and what Is not." n'- plies he ; bul there Is more of alarm Ihan of encouragement in his lone. "No more have 1" -laughing rather awkwaixlly -"but in this case 1 am pret- ty sure. Tuesdays and Fridays aro lhi> days on which the band plays." "Oh !" " "To-tlay is "Tuesday, is nol it?" "Yes." .\nolhor pause. "1 Ihought that peitiaps, if you had n-olhiiig heller lo do. you might lake me today ?" The dirocl proixisal wlileli he lins in \;--ii Irieil f-o avert has eoiiii\ If lu- ao- cepl II. of wliul pi-olit l-i him will Hi,- ab.sence of the l.e Marchant |iaiviil.N le? Ill' does not [ormiilaU' lh..s fael to hin .self, not havliii;. indtvd, owned to. hi- own heart that he has any set design upon Elizabeth's company for the after- ncxjn. "I am afraid '" he begins slowly. "Y'ou are vamping up an excuse r cries Cecdia, reddening. "I see It in your eyes. You cannot have made «ny engagements here yet. You do not hnow anybody, do you, except the Le .Mar- chanLs ?•• "An<l Ihey have gone to Haramain Rhira," replies h« precipitately. He is ashamed llie tnoment Ihal the words are out of his mouth, for he knows that they convey a falsehood. "At lea.st " But she interrupts him before he can add hi.'j conscience clause. To-morrow, then ?"' Again he tiesitales. The same objec lions apply with even greater force to Uie morrow. "But Ihe band does not play to-mor- row." "Oh! what does that matter?" sub- joins she inipatienlly. "I had just as soon go somew here elseâ€" the .A.rab lown, th." Kabyle village, anywhere." He is driven into a comer, and re- mains there silent so long Ihat thei-e is a dUtincl element of offence in the tone and large sigh willi which Uie girl re- sumes. "W'ell. limes are changed I I always used to make one in those happy excur- siotis at FloiHjnce; and s^^neliow- thanks to her, I supposeâ€" I never felt a bad third." She rises as slie speaks, and takes a a.uple of <!uffy steiis lowaixl the house ; bul he overtakes and >lops tier. The allusion to Amelia has annoyed and yet stirred In hini the sea of remorse, which U always lying but a verv little ^vay below the surface, in his soul". "Wtiy. Cfs i" he says, ui a tone of afteclionate rallying, "are we going lo quarrel al this llnie of dayâ€" you arid 1? Of course 1 will lake you to the band and the Kabylo village, and any olher blesed sight you choasi- to name, only tell me by which of them you would like lo begin lo ride rnind.'' As he leaves the hoase and Ihe ap- peased fair one, after luncheon, an hour and a half hiler, he lells himself Ihal he has got off cheaply in having vaguely sacrlllced the whole of his .Mgenan fu- ture, but havuig preserved to-dav and to-monv)w. ,To be continued). OH Ti FM I AN WE AFFOnU TO FEED ORAIN TO OUR COWS? This question is ever pre.sent wilh Ihe dairy farmer. It will not down. .Some answer it cv^nfidiAitly by saying "YesI" Some shake their heads doubt- fully aitll say "I hardly know. "Others declare, ".\t present prices of such feed it doesn't pay." If we take a census if these farmers, we will land on al.-out this ground: That those dairy farmers who feed a grain ration, arc. as a rule, the most prosp.^rous. They will lell you Ih.at li p;.ys, providing \ou will take care lo Jo two things: (I) Havo ^<x>d cows. Ei- ther brei'-d lliem or buy them; lion'l keep a poor cow a minute kinger than you are obliged to, for she is a constuil 1- ss. ,\ cow must yield iOO pounds •.! t. utter a year to barely pay for her keeping. From this conclusion there s»>enis to be no escape. If you want more, you must have a better cow. [i] Take care that the cow is stabled and handled in a way most favorabU- lo milk production. If by your fault, you hinder her in her besl work, she will surely charge you for it and you must pny Ihe bill. These are the tw-i general conclusions and coiidilions thai surround the ques- tion. From Ihesi.' Iwo we may g<5 on and deduce a sciiro or more of other ini- pcrlanl conclusions. For instance: !> The problem is so dilhcult Ihal only men of active, w-ll In'orincd minds can make a good success of it. ,J) That wo must be dairyuK'n. ushig dairy bred c'ows. and a go^xl supply of dairy ui- telligenoe in fee<ling as well as in pro- viding Ihe right conditkins lo surround Ihe c<iw. :il That if wo pr<)duce 'ur o.ws by bre<-ding. we must l«X)k inlo llie laws and principle.-> of dairy bix'ding. We tiiusl nol conic at il in l«»>se. hap- liHzard ways for we are doing work for a long time. We niiisli understand thai breeding of profitable â- dairy callle is based on just ss disliiictive. well set- l!ed principles as Is the breeding ul Irotling horses, Ixvf cattle, iiiulloii sheep, or game fowls, t) Bocaase of l<K)se. haph.azard ideas of dairy breed- â- ng among farmers, we have l-tie abuii- tlance of p«Kjr cows and the .scarcity <1 good cows, that is .-^^'ii on every hand. 5) That breed Is a very imporlant thing If it re.illy moans what it sliould; if Ihe develo'iiiient of dairy qualities, dairy type, dairy individuality has been made Ihe loading puri»s»>. A cow or bull so bred is much more apt lo give results. Ihan any olher. Ik'iice. when we choose from a certain hnW. it is well 10 be assured of the skill and wise judg- monl ct Ihe breedei'. There are wis*' n;cn and fiKilish men among breeders. .As he is. s) are his catlU- in a very large degree. ;Bi If w- buy our cows, we iiui>l be a g lod judge of a cow. else we will be Ihfowiiig away our money. fe»\l and ciire. To be a g<Kiil judge of Ihedairy q^jalily of a cow. one niiisl hnvo a nn- luriil 1 ive «.f Ihe animal, well siipp'e- i:; nU'd by a iliuly of Ihe exienuil signs if i)aic> i-juwic ly. 71 If we d'l well wHli Ih â- eoW. w»v , itMisI have ;il.s«i a t;<)<i,l ji.dgm nt . f Inie d i ry e.'ii I lions. Now. :"1 h -e 'b ng^ call for siiidy. Ihoughl. ill' i: i;. \ xN -ces.sfiij dairy fnjmier 11 . ^» iHLMli' a dairy oilucaliOM, Ihe same as a good lawyer must hav« a good legal educaMon. It is nonaenM tc suppose t%«t M deep a subject, $(}« tbat meana s« ipuch, can b« Mlved suocefsfully wilhoul a W^ll infom^ mind. Am al! thia talk has coirve ioffr cally from th« single quealton: SbaU we feed grain to our cows? Verily, taS c<;w is a fruitful subject. BEITER POULTRY ON THE FARM. Now Ihal poultry U in such demand and at double the former prices for eggd and chicks, poultry on tne farm has b?oome a greater interest than ever before. II is jukl as easy to grow good chickens as scrubs, and thay cat no more and bring much mora money. A lady who givas much alUnlien to growing chick-ens on th* farm sends the following letter on th« subject. Sh« says: I would iik« to sfe more and better poultry on our farms, and I believe there is no way in which we can more read- ily and surely increase the returns from our farm. The point at which w« sh'.iuld stop inoreajiing the size of our flocks is that at which there Is nothing more for the fowls lo clean from the fklds in Ihe way of bugs and lost grain. The tender grass and the young clover Ihat are to be found all over Ihe farm in lale summer and fail make good feed for fowls arid we should utilize Ihem as much as p-jssible by having a large number of fowls 1<J use it. We n«cd more poultry on Ihe farm*, as is evidenced by llie Increasing price fivr poultry products. This means Ihat tilt demand is ahead of the supply. When llie prices get higli ttiere is a li ndency for the people to buy other [':od ill the place of poultry producls; ti^erefore we are the losers. There is arjother reason why we should increase tht anwunl of poultry on our farms and that Is that poultry meat is not as solid OS olher meat, and tlierefore. in selling il wo. get more for Ihe same f- od value parted wilh than fr«iu a like weight of beef or pork. The Ijcller the poultry Ihe more we will get for the food consume<1. which i.s, of course, of gieal moment. We h.ave in most of our Hooks hens tiiat oat and eat and iwver lay an egg. Some of Ihem have passed beyond the age of laying and llie owners liave lost track of Ihem in Ihe flock. We can got better ilooks by weeding out these iiiiprofilab'e luyens. WHITEWASH THE iJL'ARTERS. This is Ihe season of tlie year when the hog quarters should al! be put in- to the best kind of shape by cleaning »hein out thoroughly, whitewashing them inside and out wherever the Iwgs touch lliem. .Vir slaked lime sprinkled around the fkxjr of the fK^ns. especially in the corners and sides, is an e.xcel- k-nl ii:elhod of treating the lV>ir. Troughs should be whitewashed inside und out and air-slaked lime scattered ticely oroimd whore the pigs are in the T.abit of eating. If Itieie is some luiio in Ihe Irouglid it do<sn't hurt, it Is an advantage. By exercising care, sickness may be preven'ed. Clea.n!inness is «ne of the e 3ent nls. It Ls a great preventive, and Ihe lime wash is an excellent dlsuifecl- anl. We cannot endorse Ihis too strongly. (live the hogs .some charooaL II is a regulator and an aid lo good dl- ges-tkJii. Have clean, sweet sleeping quarters. Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well. .il NO FLIES ON HI.\I. .\ young couple were otvserved as soon a-; Ihey entered a railway carriage, and imnu'dialely put down as a briday pair. Hut they were i>eiiiarkably self-po.sscss- •xi. and acted just like old married folk, s 5 Ihal after a short tune the olher pas- sengers began to doubt their belief. aW-er all. .-Vs llie Irain moved out. however, the young iiinn rose to remove his overcoat, :iiid a shower of rice fell out. The pas- ^-ngers smiled broadly. But even that did nol affect he yoiilh. wlw also smiled, and. Iiimuig to his partner, rejuarked audibly : "By Jove, May, I've brought away the bridegixiom's overcoat 1" DISCHARGED WITH A CAUTION. .•V laborer was charged with a petty offence. "Have you anyone in court who will v ouch tor your good chara-cler ?"" queried Ih,' judge. "Yes. sir, there Is the chiet coivslable )onder." was the reply. The chief c^^mslablc was amazed, "Why, your Ivonor. 1 don't even know !ho man," prolosle^l he. "Now, sir.' broke in the accused, "I h;!ve lived In the town for nearly twenly vonrs, and if the chiet constable doe^.n't know me yet, isul Ihat a character for vou ?"' N«) alien can own a British sliip, or Miiy share or inlei-est in one; but a limited liability I'ompaiiy conipo.sed en- tirely of foivign^r^ cun do so, providisl I hi vessel is ivgtslei-ed in Knglaiid. "Y'oii have a splendid position Itci-e. P?'ople a!» e.instanlly passing by,"" .said .â- ^ampson. "That's jusl the liijuble." r*- luriuxl Ihe Iradesii.aii. "They'iv always pasing hy, and never stepping in." tircen : "What do you mean by .say- ing John Brown is « distant relative of yours? 1 llvnigiil he \^as your bro- ilier," Brown : "Well, thei-e are twelve children In our family. He's Ihe oldest and I'm Ihe yniingesl.' .\ penlleman iKUiglit a new variety of 'Kiluloi'S, and tokl Ins gardener lo l»e siiiv and pliinl them far enough apart. "Well,. Sam, did you pl."!lit Ihe ^mlalocS fa.- apail. as I lold you?" .Snm : I did »iir. 1 pliiiiled .some in vour ganieii and Mime in mine, .so Ihey are f ;ur niilol uptul." iVliif i aiir'iS i a^ |i3i'ii.i'i(iimiiiiiir