Flesherton Advance, 29 Oct 1896, p. 2

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Susan's Home - Coming. 'No Susan I never want your hand* to look like mine, knotty and gnarled, like 'be brajiobeu ot that old a^pple tree S yonder." f "Why don't you ciUl me Suzanne, mo- ther t Suaon is such a common 0I4,- fashiooed name. You know 1 told you •rOd father when I came borne that I wiubed to be called Suzanneâ€" that was the name I Ht^nt by at Creigbton." "It doD't seem like the real name we gave you, but if It will please you, child I'll try to get broke into aaylng it, but I I'll tell you now you musn't exjject fath- er to say it. He's dead set against (oiks changing their names. I s'pose as you suy it's the same name, only fixed np to Iw a little higher sounding and ^ oiodernfied, but you can't make fath- tr believe that nohow. Besides, you was named for his mother, and he thought a sight of his mother, father ' did, and he done bis duty by her, too." The mother was watching her daught- er as she stood leaning against the lat- tice at the end of the porch. The young girl was putting vaseline on a scratch which the thorn on the rose she had pinned on her gown had given her. Her bands, bearing the Kratcb, were white and shapely. The mother sat in the doorway and ber tired hands rest- ed in her lap in ber blue-checked apron. y "The farm at haying and harvest is full- I flood time," and it had been a day of > iztreme beat aod extra work., She looked with eyes of love and pride on Iter daughter. It was good to have her throucrh school ojid home again, but there was an indefinable something about the reunion that brought a dis- •|>poi2it«d feeling to the mother's heart. "Well, I guess I'll set my sponge and go to bed," she said in a weary tone of voice. "I feel sort of beat out tonight, and I've got to get u(> early in the inorning. Tour father is going to mow down the north meadow and he's hired two extra tiands to help him and they'll be here to dinner and supper. Good night, child. Tou l)etter not stay out here much longer; there's a heavy dew a-falliug." The daughter sat down ia the chair lier mother had just vacated.' Things •eemed ho different to her from what tbey did four years ago when she went away to aohool.' Before she went to Creigbtoo there was no ylace in all the world so dear and sweet to ber us that old farmhouse, nobody in the whole world so good and wise as father and mother.. Of course they were just as good now as tiiey were tlten. but some- how she wished thi>y had seen more of the outside world, nad lieen better ed- ucated, and were more cultivated. Her eye fell 00 the diamond ring on her (uiger. Clarence Dln:iiuut'e bad placed It there a few evciiLngK Ijcfore she left Crei^sihtao. He ujji coming soon to see ber in her own bomci Sue bad lieen happy in ant icipalion, but now Khe abrujik from having bim come in con- tact with the r>ld farm life ajid ways. She had not told fatlker and mother of buying already made a promise to leave the old home, a,nd them, Imfore very long. What would Clarenw Dins- mure think of her home and family'^ There was 10 much made of one's fam- ily when matrimonial ventures were pending. She wondered if ber father OJid mother could claim deituent from any of the notnhloM of the world.) She k)Rt sight of the fn<'.t that in her par- entage she bad the safest Htronguuld and dearest prifU- of any familyâ€" a fa- ther's unstained, honorable name. The round silver moon cuiiie up over the hilltop, and the night dews were heavy. The thin muslin gown was not warm •nougb for the dump, chill air, and the young girl went into the house, turn- ed the key in the loik of the door and pauMfd up staifH to Ih-r own room. As young girle are not prone to lie awake long to jionder vexed questions over in tlieir iiiiiid.H, Susan was soon as!ce.i>. Not so her mother. The fath- er waa proving that tli« »U*p of the lalx>rinff man wuh sweet, but the sleep oi tlw lalK)ring woman was longer in coming and not sww-l when there ore vexed quest inns to solve. NotwiUi- •tunding the hard toil of the day the mother's head did not rcKt easily on the pillow »ii(l uU iMM'uuse of Susun. "She isn't one bit us .she -ised to bo l)efore she went awoj'. 'father was al- ways talking aUmt what a comfort she'd be when she got throuKh school and came Imck to stay., I don't want to rile father up none, but Susan hasn't come I Hick to slay; »lie won't Ik- con- tented hero no morct She's got a far- away |<x>k in her ey<w and she kept them turned t^relghlon way to- night. She don't take no interest in tbingH here as she used to. I don't know but we ought to exix-cl she'd sort erf outgrow us, with :i.ll the schooljjig we gave her. Hut 1 uiii't sorry and I know father ain't, that we raked and Bcrafied to get the money together to five her as kikkI a clianw us we could, t came kijitl of hjird for him to sisll the 8<mth mcadcm lot, Iml after 'twas gone, he never made no words about it. Twas different with ine., J didn't have, to make much sacrifices. I never get time to go jinywhere, and I don't need new clothes and fixin's.. l-'olks all . know me ttt tlw- meeting houso and don't make much aciwunt of my wear- ing them old-fa.shinned small sl«M!Ves In my Kunday-go-to-iiu-riing dress.i Susan said I'd got to fix it ov«>r and put rie big sleeves in and 1 s'pose I'll have now she's come home. "We wanted lM^r to take paint iug and music, so she'd hold her own with the beat of 'em. I''alhe-'s ;:8t as iiroud of theni picliires she iMin'ted, tli, t ; ar* banging on the parlor walls, as i.<t can be. He's kept lli<i carpel mudillpu tip all summer taking men folks in to mv them." "Now, father te.lU me to pui. her right into work and let her l^nrn 't.bp arts,' ns he on'lls, 'ein of 'house- keeping.' Hut he don't know how much store folks set by lli<' liands nowadays. There wiir'n't . no ac- count made of hands when 1 wa.s young, only to oliey the rummand, Whatsoever Iliy bands find ti> ilo, do H. with thy might.' 'Twa'n't no disgriKK'- for folka to know by the look of your hands you'd tieen using the rubbing txiard or the dye kettJle. But (biags are different tbe«e daystind young fodks must keep up with thie times, I s'pooe. But I do wish Susoo didn't want to change her name, and that she seem- ed ha.ppier to get home again." "Sus;iul SusanI" It was the father'* voice culling the daughter's name at dayiireak, an'l dispelling the illusion of a licautiful dream. "I don't know what'a the matter of mother, I never saw her like she is this morning., The hot weathef or aontething has wiilted her cleaj" down. I tri»;d to have iier get one of those O'Donnell girls, living down in the hol- ler, this si^rin^, but she wouldn't bear to it. She mid hired hedp was more bother thaji they was worth. I'm so flad you've came home to help ber. m going to hitch up as quick as I can aiyl go to Dr. Sinunonds." The awful poesibilitiesi How they forced themseilvej* upon the daughter's thoughts ixB she hurrle<lly put her cilothes on and went down to see moth- er. 'X'bere are times in our lives when tb". high lights fall on our hearts with such a power of radiancy that bless- ings we had seen heretofore, as it v/ere, through a glass darkly, are sudden- ly thixjwn out with an illumination of tWir leauty that shows their inesti- Ijexlside, tbe sufferer said, "I didn't ex- 'pect this to come, cbiUd. I'm al'most burnt up with a fever. I s'pose it waa tbe fever tbat made me have that dreadful dream last night. I thought we'd luet you, and father and I waa taunting all over. We seemed to be in acnue city, way off somewhere. All at ODue we spied you setting upon a high pilaoe, all dreaaed up grand; folks were cumiog up and bowing and acrap- iag to you. '^Father and I had a dreadful time pushing our way through the crowd, but when we got up in front of you, you didn't seeut to know us. Then 1 lemember we bad on our old farm working olotbea'. You waa kind of ashamed of u», I knew but it wa'n't but a. dream " "Nothing but a horrid dream, mo- ther dear, " tlje daughter replied, read- justing witii g;entle touch tbe loved one's pillow. 'ibeu ahe ijent over and kiased ihv dear face, so full of careworn furrows, and yet gleaming with tbe lieautiful raye of love light. "You'll be Lietter sooa, dear, and then what good timee we will have here together in tbe dear old home â€" you uiud father and I." "And we won't have to caJl you an- other namef 'You'll just lie our loving little girlâ€" our gweet Susa.n, as you used to be before you went away to schoolf" "No, no, mother dear â€" no new name. I am your own loving little girlâ€" your own Susau â€" just as I used to be Ije- fore 1 left tbe dear old home. But you must not ta.lk any more, i will batbe your head now, and perhaps it will quiet you au you will edeep." During tbe long and serious illness tbat followed, it was not tbe fact that tbe prize bad beeu won for high stand- ing m scholarship that was ttw happi- est thought in that daughter's heart. It was the grateful knowledge that tbe Ciiver of every good ajid perfect gift bad given her the gift of healing min- ist rat lone and that the Ureat Teacher was ever at ber side showing her how beat to uae (bat gift to soothe and comfort and strengthen the overwork- ed, loving, aeU-sucrificing mother. What a wonderlul revelation of gratitude and joy uomes to ua when oue whom we nave seen go down almost to tbe gates of death la given liuek to us againi Ilow anxiously we listen to hear the pbysiciiin say, "The crisis is over; the danger is pa.sll" What lilessed words were those tbe oild family doctor said to the loyal, loving daughter on that ever-to-lje-remeiulx'ied morning: "Your mother is going to get well, and let me tell you I hat your good nursing has done mure to bring ber up again than any medicine." Mother was rapidly convale^ng. She was silling in the south room lull of sun.sbine, Hurrounded by ibe "Utile things" which make a room so at- tracuve, and which had been arrang- ed with an tflni lo tiLiU'«i of color l>y the loving band of Sus.m. On the pun'h the daughter was silting near the aoulli window witb the one who loved bei- the la-et of all the earth and had bop<>d soon to make her hia wife. They were wjing their good bye words. '"I'he dear, loving old hearts bud lieen waiting and wauUing fur my home- coming HO lung ih.il 1 cinnot leave them yet, even though I love you so miu'li, my lUvtr. U» you not think my first duly lies h.'vre for the present," tbe young giri wh;s[>i'r«<d. "1 suppom^ 1 uughi to say 'Yes' to that question, but it Is so hard to go away without you, my darling. 1 have never loved you so nuuh and never ap- rnuciated your love for me ati 1 do since h.ive 8e«'n you iii your own home. All my lifu long I h.ivu seen so much of the iuockeri»'« anil vanities of life, ao much thut in simrioua. But here 1 have found thr' genuine. Uh, the ptvice and quiei and aweetness of this dear uild fiurm home and the pure, un- Ht^lfich love in it. I'h ^ loyal daughter will make, a loijal wife. May the waiting time nut lie fur long, dearest I" When the giKHl liye kisses hud been given, and they two bUkkI hand in hand at tbt^ gate, the loving maiden whi£gK«i'«<<l: "I>iniia lie cast down, laddie, O^ kh^Tj't tut do our duty and not (jhrink. And trust his nuvrcv hiiinlily fur the rest;'! Bui as sM turned liack aud went in- to th» house, the liMtrs wuuUI come. But when It was liiiw to carry the moiher's lieef 'tea into the south r(M>m, the nio- thej", Uioking up to the daughter's faiv, favt.. )>o trace of theiu. UIDN'T nOTIlKR HIM "la the !iou««> very quiet T' he u«k- e<ra« he in.s|H-cled the room that ba<l been advert iwed for rent. " No," Bai<l the landlady wearily, "I c.in'l truthfully nuy that it is. The four iKibien don't liiake so much noitie, for they never nil cry at iioioti ; and the three piiinoH one gets iise<l to, and the p.irrot is quiet sumetiines; but the man with the clariunel and the lH>y that's learning lo play the flute do "make it iKiisiiM tliiin 1 wish it was.'" " 'I'liit'.s all light," said the nmn cheerfully; 'live iind let live is my motto. I'll take the room and move in to-morrow, an<l llv little lhing.s you ini'Ution will never di.slurb me a par- ticle, (ioml-bye." And it w!iN nut until he was niove<l in and was wttled that they learned hi« occuixitiun. lie pluy<vl the trom- iKiue iu un orche^tra. ABOUT TURKEY'S SULTMS CRDBLTIES PRACTISED BY THKSE HUMAN MONSTERS. Abdul Hauld Only Oae of Ilaay Wko Hare Nauarrcd Their I'brliillaB Half J«cl>â€" A lABg U(t or jfutcherlct Per- pelraled br Ibe Fleadii. The word Sultan (pronounced Sool- taan, not Saltan) is by no means a Mubainmadan title. It occurs in tbe Kuran three timee, but there it etaads for authority. It occupies a similar pos- ition as a title of authority, among tbe Biuini Mufilims as Shah does among the Shiahs of Persia. The prt^jer title for the chief ruler in lalam ia Imam <£em- aan), or leader or Kbalifa (Kbaleefa), "one who ia left behind," a auccessor, a vicegerent, or deputy. Tbe word ia uced in the Kuran for Adam, who ia said to have been placed upon earth aa the vicegerent of God. The rulera of the Ottoman Turks aa- Bumed the title of Sultan, because there was at tbe time of their rise in history a Caliph at Baghdad who claimed to be the rightful ruler in Islam. Tbe present Turkish dynasty took its rise from Halaku, the grandson of Jen- gia Khan, who, in tbe middle of tbe thirteenth century, came down from tbe fastnesses of central Asia, and seized Bughdad, putting tbe Calipb to death. Osman, tbe founder of tbe present O9- mani dynasty, first eatablisbed bis king- dom at Bouiaa, tbe ancient capital of Bitbynia, and was immediately succeed- ed by bia son, Orchon the Conqueror, a tyrant of the deepest dye. Tbe pre- sent Sultan Hamid of Turkey is the tbirty-seventh from Ceman. and it is a curious coincidence tbat tbe present Ottoman dynasty supplanted tbe tbirty- seventh Calipb of the Abbaaide dynas- ty. Tbe Sultan of Turkey, claioiing, as he does, to be the vicegerent of the Prophet is tbe ninety-third in succes- siuo to Abu Bakr, the first Caliph. It is remarkable that so many Sul- tana of the Ottoman dynasty have DIED VIOLKNT DEATHS. Orcbnn died of exceusive grief on bear- ing of tbe death of bia favorite aon, in 1359. Mured I., known, in history as Amuratb, was assa.ssinated. in 1389. Bayezid the Thunder Bolt waa dethron- ed in 1400, and died of drunkenueas. Mu- rad II. fell down dead when feasting with hie friends at Adrianople. Baye- zid II. was dethroned by his son, Selim tbe Cruel, iu 1512 and Selim died of a pestilential boil on the spine eight years afterward. Mustafa I., tbe Saint, reign- ed only three months and was dethron- ed by the Sheik of Islam in 1618. Mu- Ixtmmad IV. waa dethroned, after a reign of thirty-nine years, in 1619. Ah- mud II. died of iusiinity in 1703. Abdul Hamid I. was poisoned on April 19, 1789, and was succeeded by bis nephew, belim III., wlo waa deposed in 1807. His suc- cefisor, Mustafa IV., was deposed and strangled in 180K. Mahmud 11., the re- former, waa poisoned July 1, 1839. Alxlul Aziz was a<v<nssii)ated on June 4, 1876, and hid nephew, Murad V., who was proclaimed Sultan, was found to be a raving maniac, and tbe pireaent Sultan, Abdul Hamid II., reigned in bis stead. Abdul Hauiid is tlu^ second son of Abdul Medjid. His mother died while he was an infant, and he waa cared for by bis father's second wife, a cbildles.s and wealthy woman. He ia just 54 years of age, having been born Sept. '22. 1842. He luis beeu rightly designated by Mr. Ulad.stone " the tts-sassin," and it is proUtble that this well-deserved title will iKias dow u into history just as Mu- hammad II. wussurnamed the Conquer- or, Selim I. the Cruel, and Suleyman I. Ibe Magnificent. But it Neems scarce- ly fair ihul the reigning Sultan should h.ive exclu.sive right to so fit a title, for the long I'no of Ottoman >^ultans is one of MONSTROUS CRUEI/rY and outrage. In the reign uf Bayezid I. the great warrior, Tamerlane of Tartary, invaded hia dniuinions, and the two mighty chit^f.s uiei un the plains of Angora in the xiiring of 1402 and fought one of the must sanguinary IriI- tle« recurdeil in history. Tamerlane seized the city of Smyrna, then held by th.v('hrif<tiin Knighl.s of St. John, and onlerod a gejieral ma««>cre of the in- kibitants without mercy to either age or sex. Thousands of Christian war- rions were liuiied alive after their heads h.Kl be<'n fastened under their legs. It w-a,s Sultan .Mutuimmad II., siirnaiued the Coiujiieror, who conceived it to lie hi.s mission to stamp out Christianity. He entered Constant incnile as theMahdi of Islam on May 29. ^1;l3. The Turks riitihed into the city, meeting with no rcHifttance, and the Sultan, proceeding to the Chri«linn (Cathedral of St. So- phia, sttHHl uiion the marble altar and recited the iviuslim prayers. Upon the taking of Constantinople the lueanwt I'urk.s insulted the noblejft Christians .vith impunity. The Muslim conquer- ors did not iiesitate to commit the vil- e«t outrages on women and children, in mer»( wantonness, and yet it is a iX'Uiarkable fact that this Sultan is .said to huve ln'cn the son of a Christian mother. He w^oa a man with no re- deeming virtue, a vicious and sensual tyrant. It wan hultan Selim 1. the Cruel who first assumed the title of Caliph. He threatened to kill all his Christian sul>- took 100,000 Christianaâ€" men. women and childrenâ€" to Constantinople to be •old as slaves. It was (bis Sultan who very nearly conquered Vienna, but tbe Aiutrian capital was saved by the her- oiam and endurance of ber defenders. •8ultan Murad IV., who reigned from 1623 to 1640, waa notorious for bia crimes. On one occasion be killed several Christians with hit own hands at the northeastern porch of St. Sophia, and on another, -when he saw a number of Greek women, dancing in a meadow, be ordered them to be seized an<l drowned. Among tbi^ many cold-blooded murders of his reign were thoee of his three brothers. This Murad was so greatly bated for his atrocities tiiat the phy- sicians of bis court up«ned his veins and terminated his existence at the ear- ly age of 36. The cruelties of the Turkish Sultaoia have develooed with tbe growth of civ- ilization. For it is during the century which is piisaing that tbe greatest en- ormities iuive been perpetrate*!, Mus- tafa IV. woe an assassin to the manor bom, and would have committed great enormities if he had not been deposed and assassinated. Under th« reign of Sultan Mabmud It.T designated tbe Reformer, from 1806 to 1839, there waa a determination to convert the Cbriatiane of the Turkish empire by force, and on this account Ru.s8ia decided to subdue and extinguish the power of tbe Turk. Tbe Ru.saiana captured several ports on tbe Black Sea, bat, on the eve of victory, were obliged to withdraw on account of tbe ADVANCE OF NAPOLEON with bia large army into R.uesian ter- ritory. On April 6, 1822, the furkieh troops landed at Seimos and butchered its unoffending people. Twenty-five thousand men, women, and children were murdered and 45,000 were sold aa slaves in the market places of Egypt and Barbery. The little island of Casoe was entirely deeolated and 2,000 chil- dren were aent to the slave market in Alexandria. Sultan Abdul Medjid waa regarded as tbe friend and allay of Christian peo- ple, and it was in defence of his empire tbat France, England, and Sardinia sac- rificed tbouaonda of lives. Sebastopol was taken on Sept. 8, 1855, after a siege of ten months, and during this siege nearly eight tbtHuwnd French and three thousand English soldiers of tbe line were killed. During the reign of Abdul Aziz tbe inhabitants of Crete were cruelly treat- ed, and tbe island was devastated and impoveriahtid, like the other Christian potiseesions of the Turks. On May 7, 1870, tbe French aud German Con- suls at Salonica were murdered, and tbe revolutions in Herzegovina and Bul- faria continued for more than a year, be Baahi-Bazouks attacked and slaugh- tered 1,200 CfariKtiaus who took refuge in a church. Tbe total number of Christians massacred at this time was estimated by Mr. Baring of the Bri- tish Embaasy at 25,000. And thus the tale of tyranny goes on. Tbe only remedy for all this is that proposed by Mr. Gladstone, namely, to send the Sultan and his Mubammadan subjects " bofr Mid basg«ge to Bag- dad." ALGERIAN BRIDAL. &Ime. Dralla, who recently returned from Algeria, describes a bridal in tbat country thus: "Fatma and Ali, two young acquaintances, were to be be- trothed. Tbe father of tbe bridegroom waa to pay a sum of money agreed on and receive a receipt from the father of the girl â€" practically a certificate sealed by tbe Cadi. Tbe father of the girl and bridegroom then sit on the ground, face tu face, grasi>ing one an- utber's right band, raising the thumbs and pressing tbem one against tbe other. Tbe father uf tbe girl says, 'I betroth tu thee my daughter, So-and-So, for a dowry of sucb an amount.' I'be bride- groom ansAvers, 'I aooei)t from thee the lietrotbal tu myself." While these words are being spoken, a muezzin or a schoolmaster puts a handkerchief on the two united bands, and when the laAt word is sjiid he recites a short prayer in praiae of God, a form of bless- ing and some verses un marriage. Two or thre<> days later the wedding takes place. "On tile wedding day a professional "Ijeauty dr»«8er' came forward tu do her duty tu the bride, who, poor child, look- ed frightened and amazed. She yield- ed ber tuiY bands and fe«*t tu be paint- ed with the deep orange-red tint im- parte<l by the leaves of the 'henna;' her nails wer«' made wrfectly black, but th« bock of lioth minds and feet were left uf their native hue. On her hcail wsis pliuM'd a red. donie-shaiied cap, HIKirklmg with se<iuin8 i^nd gold em- broi>ler,v. 'This cap covered most of her hair, and left disclosed a fringe ov*>ir her foreheail and two long locks by her eilj.s. Je%vels were put on arms and ankl(>s, and a necklace was fastened about heir throat. When thus fully ad«>rned she was instruet.tvl to walk be- fure lis. that all might have full and equal opportunity of admiring her. She ol>eyed slowly and with a peculiar gait, inclining ttie lower purt of her Ixxly fruiu side to side as she walked, while with her liandA she slightly raised tbe edge of h.-r outer garments. "Then Iho women veiled themsi'lves. The bridegroinn waa coming out, and met Katina at the fiwt of thi' staircastv. H»* blew in h«T face to teuob her sul>- misaion. aiU put over her bea<l a golden pleee to pa) tbe l)eauly dresser, thus a&suming his resiKinsibility fdr her." .lect.s unless they embraced Islam, and would hive carried out his threat but for the manly attitude of the Greek Pat- riarclv. In return 'or his clemency ho to»>k the Christian Church edifices and turned them into Muslim niixsnu(v»i. Sul- eyman, the Magnificent, slaughtered in lilt tie TWENTY THOUSAND Hungarian Christians, and in S«>ptem- Kt. 152t, entered the cities of lUida aud IV.st, without any resLMtunce and "I'M NO OKI I) YET." There h;is just died iu Livejpool John ti«>d(les, who was once tht^ hero of a rather stirring incidenl. In 1801 a very old builduig in Edinburgh, which con- tained alfuut twenty tenants, fell. The Ge<ldivs family was among the owu- pants. Although many lives were lost, several of the inmates were resi'ued in a very remarkable manner. The acci- dent occurro*! on a Saturday, and on .Sunday, tho crowd liecame so great that the I'rovost sent for and reivived the assistance of a company of the I'ani- eronians from the iiust'e to aid the pit- lice in keeping order. Cnder great ri.«dc, the work of excavation waa carried on during the whole Sunday. Kor sev- eral hours the reai-uers had laUired to reach the little Ixiy Ueddes, guided by hw voirt). While the men were clear- ing awoy the <lebris. Geddes was heard to shout", "Heave awa. lads; I'm no deid yet." When a new tenement was Imilt tm the spot where the housi' fell, a bust of young (icddes. with the8<> words, was placed alK)ve one of the doorways. HOME UFE AT ROYAL COC'RTL. The Ufe aa<l •atlea af Malda mt Haaer t» «a(cilM''aad Empnue: High life above stairs la showm iq^ in a light tbat may dispel many illck. sions in a conversation I have just bad with a maid of honor to a nortbera Queen, aaya a writer in London Truth. The maid of honor is wealthy in ber own right, has a time-out-of-mind ped- igree, and is daughter of an eminent statesman. Not satisfied with these ad- vantages, she thought how nice it would be to enter not merely the charmed circle of tbe court, but tbe impenetralia (to the ordinary mortals) of tbe royal family. Tbe Queen to whom sbe owed social allegiance, learning of her wish or weakness deigned to gratify it. Royalty would take it Ul indeed if wear- iness of tbe place led to retirement. Tbe unfortunate maid of honor's waits 1 last for nine months, a good many of which are spent moving about from one I German spring to another. She is gir- ' en £80 a year, out of which she baa to keep ber maid. This keep includea tbe I price of demi-pension in the palace and wages. T bough the Qneen leads, for I her station, a quiet life, there are a goo4 many state pageants and public ilrives in open carriages. This involves a good deal of expensive dressing. Etiquette Joes not ordain that her Majesc; sboold be ecpsulteo about the toilets, but tes convenances do. Tbe maid ot bour sbonld be handsomely, but' not too handsomely dressed. Her b^ longings should be subordin- ate to tboee of her royal mistress. Her unvarying manner abould be one of even cheerfulneas. A betrayal of tedium would be tbought bad form. Nervous beadacbea must be concealed. One does not apeak until spoken to. The subjects of conversation are lim- ited, because so many subjects would be unsafe if repeated. Thus, that kind of scandal which goes in at one ear and out at tbe other is tabooed. But serir oua fault may be found if leading ques- tions are asked. Young member^ of the royal family are held in by staid at- tendants, though dying to vent tbe ant- ntal spirits natural to tbeir age. Tbey sometimes, bursting out, shake with laughter at tbe slightest provocation, and sometimes at no provocation. V'u^ its of other royalties delight them, for these guests can be as jolly as tbey please, and start subjects of conversa- tion. A prince of European repute for his indefatigability in fighting aganst tbe tedium of court life, is nicknamed by bis royal nephews and nieces "Uncle What-nert." "The reason is that when one form of amusement is exhausted at a house where he is a guest, be is sure to ask "What next f \\ hat next f" The fair princess, his wife, can pi ly for a whole evening with a toy puzzle, and with noa-royal companions thinks this the aifest pastime. With kindred roy- alties sbe throws off all restraint and fait chanter le piano, throwing into tbe instrument all tbe feeling she has had to keep to herself, unless m her Sunday visits to the kenm-1. There is itcarce- ly a royal i>ers'm'ig' in Euiop.' who does not dote on dogs. They can be themselves with their dogs, and fami- liar without fear of breeding contempt. 'The desk of the King's or Queen's a». crelary ia like the Pool of Siloam be- fore the ang>-l touched it. All the ilia to which fle.sb is liable are represented there. In sad letters, some true and some falsi', morbid and vane |iersons delight to reveal their uneasy consci- ousness to heads ot states and their con- sorts. This mania is worse in Protes. tant than in CatBolic countries* It is impossible to waste-paper basket all tbe apiieals for help an(i recognition of un- successful talent. Whon there Ls a let- ter showing the sensi- of a permanent grievance it ia sent to the police, and precautions to protect tbe royal pers- on are multipl'ed. Tbe i>ests of the small courts are the importance attached to etiquette, and the thin-skinnsdness and Jealousy of the courtiers. tJreat i>"sta of all courts, but chiefly of the greater, are the hosts of fussy {leople, humbugs of all kinds and projectors w ho want to secure royal pitrunage as a means uf advertisement. Tbey are much mure likely to get it thin the dcw-rvinp, bpcause their in- stinct tolls tbem how to make their ap- proach. Que«'ns are now pestered all over Kurop»> with individuals who im- agine money is to \w made in getting up unions to swure artistic and literary employment for women. The Empress Frederick is ready to help feminine un- ions, but for handicrafts requiring trained skill and t.ilent, and not to get |Hiur scribbling or painting shot into the market. 'I he Queens of Sweden and of Denmark are of the same mind, but t bv" Qucn of Sweden likes to patronize uuthore:<s>s on the side uf religion and goi'd morals. The Empress ol Russia fet-U h'-r wav. My mnid of honor tells me that tbe Prince ot Walos'sdangbters are eredi'.ed in luuthvrii cjuits with shrewdness .and insight into the motives oi' fussy philanthropists. 1'he most pleas.-vni court for maids of honor i>! that of S'. IVIersburg. One R-'x is as free as th:> other.- Tha ladies smoke, skate, dance, take sentimental drives in th«'' long daylike summer nights, flirt wiUi grandduk"* or with no in liter whom, throw theiusslves in- to love, dipldiuatlo, i>alace, and even pol- itical intrigues. The latter may lead to Silieria. lint tl«< gambling spirit is strong in (hem; danwr gives ie.-it to enteriuize, and forbidden fruit is sweet- eat. IHK WDRSr YET. Kosciusko Murphy â€" I don't see you ;uul IKetetter iUHimnis together " as inucli as foriuerlv. tiu.-f do Smithâ€" No, I have given bim the i-old shake. What did he .lot Nothing. exc<-pl he asked me why » thief who gives his cixnfedcraies away was like th« capital uf Turkey. 1 said I didn't know, and then the double-dyed assassin r«^pUe^l, "Because ho is cuu-stant tu no pal." That was pretty tough. Yes. I should say so. I t.dd him never to »ih' ik to lue again. Id shake my gran<lfathej if be. sprumi a gag liks tbiit uu me. ''"

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