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r}i i t * ^ r • - ' ^ - v ' ' ,,-t 1 C f^l'" € .f,.*^ '?\f*-i:.j3>"x-x-- .*.?;p v• t^T'«>' .*:'.*st**'"*V >5'""3 /*x St. > Mi V«i#fc -t ' !*JL'.*v><v; ***/• y • THE SPENDERS A Tale of tfceTUrd Generation Br HARRY LEON WILSON* J f • j?&i '-'i ft. p*:? f< ® a -.s Kv; ? *rtr V~*<- t- : *:r > & - ft'" " <M >V -" * £ " _ •' Copyright, bjr Lothrop Publishing Company CHAPTER XXIX--Comtibtukd. "Miss Milbrey Is with Mrs. Van Ceist, sir." Jarvis spoke regretfully. He had reasons of his own for believ­ ing that the severance of the Milbrey relationship with Mr. Bines had been nothing short of calamitous. He rang Mrs. Van Gelst's beU, five minutes later. "The ladies haven't come back, sir. t don't know where they might be. Perhaps at (the Valnera', in i£i£t#~seo- ond street, sir." , He rang the Valnera' bell. "Mrs. Van Geist and Miss Siilbrey? They left at least half an hour ago, sir." -"Go down the avenue slowly, driver!" At Fortieth street he looked down to the middle of the block. Mrs. Van Geist, alone, was Just Alighting from her coupe. . He signaled the driver. "Go to the other address again, la Thirty-seventh street." , J Jarvis opened the doOjr. ' ; i , "Yes, sir, thank you, Mil- t>rey is in, sir. I'll see, sir." He crossed the Rubicon of a door­ mat and stood in the unlighted hall. At the far end he saw light coming from a door that he knew opened into the library. Jarvis came into the light; Behind him appeared Miss Milbrey in the doorway. "Miss Milbrey says will you enter th« library, Mr. Bines?" CHAPTER XXX. SOME RUDE BEHAVIOR, OP WHICH ONLY A WESTERN MAN COULD BE GUILTY. He walked quickly back. At the doorway she gave him her hand, which be took in silence. "Why--Mr. Bines!--you wouldn't have surprised me last night. To- (light I pictured you on your way west." Her gown was of dull blue dimity. She still wore her hat, an arch of straw over her face, with ripe red cherries nodding upon it as she moved. He closed the door behind him. "Do come in. I'/e been havirg a solitary rummage among old things. W \ "OH! LET ME QO!" % It is my last night here. We're titl­ ing for the country to-morrow, you lmow." She stood by the table, the light from a shaded lamp making her color glow. Now she noted that he had not spoken. She tifrned quickly to him as if to question. He took a swift little step toward Iter, still without speaking. She stepped back with a sudden instinct of fright. He took two.quick steps forward and grasped one of her wrists. He spoke in cool, even tones, but the words came fast: "I've come to marry you to-night; to take you away with me to that west­ ern country. You may not like the life. You may grieve to death for all I know--but you're going. I won't plead, I won't beg, but I am going .to take you." She had begun to pull away in alarm when he seized her wrist. His grasp did not bruise, it did not seem to be tight; but the hand that held ft was Immovable. "Mr. Bines, you forget yoursstf. Really, this is--" "Don't waste time. You can say all that needs to be said--I'll give you time for that before we start--but don't waste the time saying all those useless things. Don't waste time tell­ ing me I'm crazy. Perhaps 1 am. We can settle that later." "Mr. Bines--how absurd! Oh! let me go! You're hurting my wrist! Oh!-- don't--don't--don't! Oh!" When he felt the slender wrist try­ ing to writhe from his grasp he had closed upon it more tightly, and tnrust- Ing his other arm quickly behind her, d drawn her closely to him. Her cries and pleadings were being smoth­ ered down on his breast. Her strug­ gles met only the unbending, pitiless resistance of steel. "Don't waste time. I tell you-^-can't you understand? Be sensible--talk if you must--only talk sense." "Let me go at onc**"4 demand it-- quick--oh!" "Take this hat off!" . He forced the wrist he had been holding down between them; so that she could not free the hand, and, with his own hand thus freed, he drew out the two long hat pins 'and flung the hat with its storm-tossed cherries across the roojn. Still holding her tightly, he put the free hand on her brow and thrust her head back, so that •he was forced to look up at him. "Let me see you--I want to 4 ee yoax •yes--they're my «y«a tow.'* ^ klAIJV . . Her head strained against his hand to be down again, and all her strength was exerted to be away. She found she could not move in any direction. Oh, you're hurting my neck. What shall I do? I can't scream--think what it would mean!--you're hurting my neck!" "You are hurting your own n«ck-- stop it!" He kissed her face, softly, her cheeks, her eyes, her chin. I've loved you so--don't--what's the use? Be sensible. My arms have Btarved tor you so--do you think they're going to loosen now? A vice Milbrey--Avice Milbrey--Avice Mil­ brey!" His arms tightened about her •• he said the name over and over. "That's poetry--it's all the poetry tnere is in the worm, it's a verse 1 say over in the night Yori can't un­ derstand it yet--it's too deep for you. It means I must have you--and the next verse means that you must hare me--a poor man--be a poor man's wife--and all the other verses--mil­ lions of them--mean that I'll never give you up--and there's a lot more verses for you to write, when you un­ derstand--meaning that you'll never give me up---and there's one in the be­ ginning means I'm going to carry you out and marry you to-night--now, do you understand?--right off--this very night!" Oh! Oh! this is so terrible! On, it's so awful!" Her voice broke, and lie felt her body quiver with sobs. Her face was pitifully convulsed, and tears welled in her eyes. % "Let me g^--let--me--go!" He released her head, but still held her closely to him. Her sobs had be­ come uncontrollable. "Here--" he reached for the little lace-edged handkerchief that lay be­ side her' long gloves and her purse, on the table. - She took it mechanically^ - "Please--oh, please let me go--I beg you." She managed it with difficulty between the convulsions that were rending her. He put his lips dofrn upon the soft hair. "I won't--do you understand that? Stop talking nonsense." He thought there would no end to the sobs. "Have it out, dear--there's plenty of time." Once Bhe seemed to have stopped the tears. He turned her face up to his own again, and softly kissed her wet eyes. Her full lips were parted before him, but he did not kiss them. The sobs came again. "There--there!--It will soon be over." At last she ceased to cry from sheer exhaustion, and when, with his hand under her chin, he forced up her head again, she looked at him a full minute fuid then closed her eyes. He kissed their lids. There came from time to time the Involuntary quick little indrawings of breath--the aftermath of her weeping. He held her so for a time, while neither spoke. She had become too weak to struggle. "My arms have starved for you so," he murmured. She gave no sign. "Come over here." He led her, un­ resisting, around to the couch at the other side of the table. "Sit here, and we 11 talk it over sen­ sibly, before you get ready." When he released her, she started quickly up toward the door that led into the hall. "Don't do that--please don't be foolish." He locked the door, and put the key In his pocket. Then he went over to the big folding doors and satisfied himself they were locked from the other side. He went back and stood In front of her. She had watched him with dumb terror in her face. "Now we can talk--but there isn't much to be said. How soon can you be ready?" "You are crazy!" "Possibly--believe what you like." "How did you ever dare? Oh, how awful!" * "If you haven't passed that stage, I'll hold you again." "No, no--please don't--please stand up again. Sit over there--I can think better." "Think quickly. Jhis is Saturday, and to-morrow is their busy day. They may not sit up late to-night." She arose with a little shrug of des­ peration that proclaimed her to be in the power of a mad man. She looked at her face in the oval mirror, wiping her eyes and making little passes and pats at her disordered hair. He went over to her. "No, no--please go over there again. Sit down a moment--let me think. I'll talk to you presently." There was silence for five minutes. He watched her, while she narrowed her eyes in deep thought. Then he looked at his watch. "I can give you an hour, If you've anything to say before it's done--not longer." She drew a long breath. "Mr. Bines, are you mad? Can't you be rational?" "I haven't been irrational, I give you my word, not once since I came here." He looked at her steadily. All at once he saw her face go crimson. She turned her eyes frojn his with an effort. "I'm going back to Montana in the morning. I want you to marry me to­ night--I won't even wait one more day--one more hour. I know it's a thing you never dreamed --marrying a poor man. You'll look at it as the mpst disgraceful act of folly you could possibly commit, and so will every one else here--but you'll do it. To-morrow at this time you'll be half-way to Chi­ cago. with me." "Mr. Bines--I'm perfectly reasonable and serious--I mean it--are you quite sure you didn't lose your wits when you lost your money?" "It may be considered a witless thing to marry a girl who would marry Jjfor money--but never mind that--I'm used to taking chances." She glanced up at him curiously. "You know I'm to marry Mr. Shepler the tenth of next month." "Your grammar is faulty--tense is wrong--You should say 'was to have married Mr. Shepler.' I'm fastidious about those little things, J confess, "How can you jaatr "t cant Dont think this It any' joke. He'll And out." "Who will find out--what, pray?" "He will. He's already said he wm afraid .there might have been sotnt nonsense between you and me, because we talked that evening at the Old- akers'. He told my grandfather he wasn't at all sure of you until that day I lost my money." "Oh, I see--and of course you'd Ilka your revenge--carrying me off from him just to hurt him." "If you say that I'll hold you In my arms again." He started toward her. "I've loved you so, I tell you--all the time--all the time." . "Or perhaps it's a brutal revenge on me--after thinking I'd only marry for money." "I've loved you always, I tell you." He came up to her, more gently now. and took up her hand to kiss it. He saw the ring. "Take his ring off!" » "• She looked up at hii*# Wtth amused little smile, but did not move. He i-ekched for the hand, and she put it behind her. "Take it off," he said, harshly. He forced her hand out, took off the ring with its gleaming stone, none too gently, and laid it on the table behind him. Thee he covered the hand with kisbts. 'Now it's my hand. Perhaps there was a little of both those feelings you accuse me of--perhaps I did want to triumph over both you and Shepler-- and the other people who said you'd never marry for anything but money-* but do you think I'd have had either (Hie of those desires if I hadn't loved you? Do you think I'd have cared how many Sheplers you married if I hadn't loved you so, night and day--always turning to you in spite of everything-- loving you always, under everything-- always, I tell you." "Under what---what 'everything?'" "When I was sure you had no heart --that you couldn't eare for any man except a rich man--that you would marry only for money." "You thought that?" "Of course I thought it.** f "What has changed you?* "Nothing. I'm going to chittfe& lt now by proving differently. I shall •take you against your will--but I shall make you love me--in the end. I know you--you're a woman, in spite of your­ self." "You were entirely right-about me. I would even have married you because of the money--" "Tpll me what it is foa're holding back--don't wait." "Let me think--don't talk, piease!" She sat a long time silent, motion­ less, her eyes fixed ahead. At length she stirred herself to speak. "You were right about me, partly-- and partly wrong. I don't think I can make you understand. I've always wanted so much from life--so much more than it seemed possible to have. The only thing for a girl in my posi­ tion and- circumstances was to make what is called a good marriage. I wanted what that would bring, too. I was torn between the desires--or rather the natural Instincts and the trained desires. I had ideals about loving and being loved, and I had the material ideals of my experience tn this world out here. "I was untrue to each by turns. Here--I want to Bhow you something." She took up a book with closely writ­ ten pages. "I came here to-night--I won't con­ ceal from you that I thought of you when I came. It was my last time here, and you had gone, I supposed. Among other things I hjid out this old diary to burn, and I had found this, written on my eighteenth birthduy, when I came ouf.--the fond, romantic secret ideal 01 a foolish girl--listen: " 'The Soul of Love wed the Sool of Truth and their daughter, Joy, was born; who was Immortal and In whom they lived forever!' (TO BE CONTINUED.) WHERE'S XT BABYf Why, my baby's gone and left me! I can't And him any more. He was very sweet and cunning, Playing round me on the floor. How I loved to have him hug me Round my neck with chubby arSOSi Tenderness my soul o'er-filllng Thinking over all his charms. Where's my darling little baby? Sunny curls and laughing eyes; Eyes were blue and full of BunshiMfc Blue as fairest summer skies. "Here I is!" Is that my baby? Little pants and short-cropped kat*» Little independence mister. Never any time to spare? He scarce takes time to kiss his mother* Because he has so much to do. Yes, he's nice--but. oh, my baby! To laugh and kick and cry and coo; Between my arms to lie soxlosely^- To let me hug and squeeze him tlffhC; While deep into his eyes I'm looking. Eyes filled up with sweet love light. --Martha Shepard Eippincott, in Good ttMpekeeping. Both Were Barbarous. 4 Prbf. Starr, the famous ethnologist was in his humorous and whimsical way accusing woman of barbarism. "And she is not only barbarous-- she is illogical and inconsistent," he exclaimed. * "I was walking in the country oq§e day with a young woman. In a grove we came upon a boy about to shin up a tree. There was a nest in the tree, and from a .certain angle it was posy sible to see in it three eggs. " 'You wicked little boy,' said my companion, 'ar« you going up thexf to rob that nest?' " 'I am,' the boy replied, coolly. "'How can you?' she exclaimed 'Think how the mother will grieve ovei the loss of her eggs.' " 'Oh, she won't care,' said the bov. 'She's up there in your hat'" f&JVC/ETS y&SHION - -- -- - • • -- r i n r d ^ r run- ilinirtrifi^irjl^^n Dainty Dress Accessories. LITTLE TOUCHES MAKE THE COS- tUME DISTINCTIVE. Belts, Hats, Qloves and Other 8ma1l Matters Are 8ometimes More li portant That the Frock Itselff^ Some of Fashion's Decrees. The finishing touch is found in the accessories of dress and belts, hats, gloves, shoes, umbrellas, find veils often are more Important than the 7 Boys on Balloons. In a French school the boys asked to write on the invention of bal­ loons. "Balloons were invented," wrote one, "by the Brothers Montgolfier, who were paper makers. They took a large balloon and filled it with paper. They then set light to the paper and the bal­ loon went up." Another hoy wrote: "When the aerostats--such being the name given to men who rlge in hal- ^ loons--wish to come down, they fetch some sand and gravel and put it in the balloon." A third boy Informed his examiners that "the aeronaut places himself within the balloon, the basket | being used for provisions," frocks themselves. Veils and boas are just now a necessary and expensive part of the outfit, and some kind of neck arrangement is the Paris finish­ ing touch for every kind of costume. The little cross over cravattes of fur are worn for the severe tailor made and boas, of feathers and marabout rival fur stoles for dressy wear. Long scarves in, painted chiffon or gauze or embroidered tulle are worn as a finish for evening gowns, and the new way to finish these is with a rosette of satin which is used to gather up the center slightly, helping by the weight to keep the middle to the middle. buckle or a bunch of and the scarf is fastened to the back of the bodice-- preferably pinning it so that it can be taken off. • In lace veils, white or cream or brown are most successful over the face, while a filmy black* lace veil can be worn down becomingly by women of brilliant complexion. In chiffon veils, browns, and certain vivid and yet not crude greens and light blues are the favorites. New white chiffon veils have borders of color. Sometimes the border is a deep band or several bands of vary­ ing widths, and a border with a row of large dots above it in the same color 1b one of the effective fancies. There are also white veils with deli­ cately pretty floral borders and others of shot chiffon. Petticoats en suite with negilgees are trimmed with net flounces to match the kimonos, which are of all- over, laces of inexpensive quality mounted over China silk foundations. Some of these are made of coarse net and others of thin Swiss, &nd they are formed in all varieties of the "Mother Hubbard and kimono styles and made to slip on separately over the silk lining. This, aftar all, is not an uneconomical investment where good washing laces are chosen, as the silk is more or less protected. Mate­ rials for this class of kimono are best selected in the curtain departments, where there are both wide lace rem- RAILROAD IN THE ARCTIC .^.1 >\ Sometimes #a ribbons is used % nants and even fish nets which adapt prettily as curtains. Soft nainsook Is equally pretty worn over color, and pretty empire night gowns, worn over silk slips, are converted by opening them up the front and edging all around with a lingerie ruffle, and wearing over silk petticoat to match. ».H Vlr »" VWm 11^1 si 1H Vt' W I • »l COVER FOR 8HIRT WAIST. Will Fretect the Dainty Garment From Dust and Light. A shirt waist cover designed to slip over the regulation hanger is here pic­ tured. To make it take a piece of silk or cotton material 44 Inches long and 22 inches wide, fold in the middle and Btitch up the sides, forming a bag. Turn and fold the top in three parts, slit the middle section, leaving one- third on each side. This slit is for the collar, which is made by cutting a band five Inches deep and 16 Inches wide. Attach with a wide beading and trim top and bottom with lace. Run in nice ribbon and make a generous bow in front. This slit is just wide enough to allow the hanger to slip through, and the waist or coat is pro­ tected from the dust and light. The cover illustrated was made from ordi­ nary barred muslin, with brier stitch­ ing around the bottom in blue wash silk, and with ribbon to match. It's what' a fellow doesn't know about a girl that causes him to fall in love with her. FOR THE EVENING GOWN. Artificial Rowers and Foliage Used as Trimming. The prettiest fashion for many a day is the trimming of evening gowns with artificial flowers and foliage. In this there is no combination quite so effective as that of black blossoms on white or pale tinted chiffons. Chiffon roses and trailing budB and foliage is an art practiced in the ex­ clusive dressmaking shops, but these are not a great deal prettier than the ribbon roses which often are fash­ ioned in the department store and which may be given the airy chiffon look of having them made of the in­ expensive gauze ribbons. Artificial roses bought in the millinery depart­ ments will apply beautifully to the edge of a decolletage, even when they do not oome bunched or stemmed. Flower trimmings also can be bought among the things at the pas­ sementerie counters, and among the lovely things found here are spray applique trimmings of black velvet roses and also applications of chenille in floral designs. Nothing lovelier than a black net gown mounted over white taffeta and white trimmings of black velvet roses can be imagined. Where one cannot afford these gor­ geous jet and velvet trimmings a pretty substitute can be made with an ordinarily good piece of jet passemen­ terie by intermixing and outlining it with narrow black ribbon. For instance, a plain black chiffon low cut waist may be finished with one of the ready made berthes of spangled or jetted net. The pattern on this may be outlined with the nar­ row black velvet, and the whole berthe may be edged with it. Add to this a couple* of strands of narrow black velvet over each shoulder and a skele­ ton girdle made in the same way. FAVOR THE SLOPING SHOULDERS Revival of This Fashion Js Sean In the New Modes., --• & The little suggestion of Jong shoul­ ders got at in the new suits and dresses this fall has been lifted into a revival of the old-fashioned sloping shouldgra--a revival sanctioned by no lees an authority than the great Paquin himself. His first use of it ws8 for evening gowns--decidedly em­ pire In effect, with fascinating, short, frilly sleeves, or with no sleeves at all, except for a bit of soft, cloudy drapery which defines the length of the shoul­ der line still more effectively. As yet only the more dressy sbrts of suits and gowns--those particularly good f>r theater or afternoon wear-- show the sloping shoulder, although 'even the plainest of walking suits find ways of cutting the shoulders as broad as possible. In the dressier sort, odd little cape effects stretch out over the top of the sleeve, which Is iMQkAd up th# Uo# .oil tha 1 seam, where it is stitched in, robbing it of the effect of dropping off the shoulder. Have Variety In Dress. There are women who always do their hair one way, whether they are going to the opera or to market. You know them. They always wear the same kind of clothes. Generally, too, they do exactly the same things in exactly the same way, from one year's end to another. They never change. And somehow they are proud of the act! Though what virtue there Is in never getting a new ic^ea does not appear. Take the simple matter of dressing the hair. There are new ways of do^ ing it. The style that does for morn­ ing might be improved on and made more elaborate for evening. The rest that comes with a change of dressing and coiffure is something very real and tangible, and no woman should sUght it. If she does not know new and pretty ways, let her toara them. LINE IN ALASKA LAID ON GROUND THAT NEVER THAWS. Engineering Feat Which Has Taxed American Skill and Pluck--First Broad Gauge Road. daring piece of engineering and construction work has been the build­ ing of the first broad-gaug^ road in Alaska, the Council City and Solomon River railroad. The significance "of the enterprise is the proof which it offers that the Alaska tundra can be crossed, an achievement which many of the best engineers had declared re­ peatedly was impossible. J. Warren Dickson, a young New York engineer, built this most north­ erly railroad in the world, after plan­ ning it out in e\»ery detail five thous­ and miles away from Alaska. And so exactly were these detail^ worked out that when the first gear's work was finished near Nom^.every item of a $500,000 equipment ^;as accounted for, save a few odds and enda wort' less than $100. The story of the solving of the greatest problem met with In con­ structing the road, namely, the build­ ing of the roadbed across the tundra, shows what determination and in­ genuity will do. The tundra is the name given to the lowlands of Alas­ ka. These lowlands are covered with age old growths of moss in hummocks, decayed year after year, in nature's process of soil making, to a depth of from one to three feet. With frequent pools of water. It was this unstable ground over which engineers had de­ clared no roadbed could be built to sustain the heavy ears of a standard gauge road except at prohibitive coat. But Mri Dickson had convinved himself that, while this tundra in itself was not firm enough, it was only an excres­ cence on a solid foundation of earth, in some place frozen, and in other places over a foundation of ice. He realized that the ground underneath this tundra would sustain his tracks. But the difficulty was in disposing of the moss and its underlying muck, to save the enormous cost of handling and draining it, for unskilled labor was $4 a day. Concerning one thing, ail the "knowlngjones" held to the same opinion--the tracks would have to be sustained by a heavy underpack- ing. This would add another item of great expense, as ordinary planking was worth $40 to $60 a thousand feet board measure. But Mr. Dickson studied out the solution. He utilized the moss and muck--which is of the consistency of wet clay--by building them into the grade (which at the same time gave him ditches for drainage on sadht:: Bide) and then tamping the grade. The action of the long hours of hot sun drained and hardened the grade. Then: the tracks were laid and the balasting done from near-by gravel hillsides. And the substantial roadbed, unaf-jt feteted .by the winters, is silent proof;; of the success of the methods used-? Along the line loaded freight cars in some places pass over tracks built ia^ this substantial manner eight or ten feet above crystal ice. This substrat­ um of ice never melts, in spite of the very warm days of summer which pre-| vail even here within 100 miles of the Arctic circle. It is the primeval freeze I' that has not thawed since ancient^ geologic ages. It is kept from thaw-?, ing by the thick blanket of moss, muck and gravel lying over it, and the whole roadbed has proved a firm, foundation for this commercial enter- - A ' •fc, Mi ' '1 •y- ' i-S -i > I First Standard Gauge Passenger Car*y- Constructed in Alaska. ' ' - prise involving great capital. Three'?"f \ winters have already proved -that5 •* there is not the slightest '*beaving"i;:|* and that it is as solid a foundation, ' as that of any railroad in the United1 ' -'1 States. * , _/'•£ The past four months of work ac­ complished remarkable results. , . Tliet \ camp had Increased to 600 men. Eight"",*^"V miles of standard track were built v and ballasted, and paralleled by a, --1 telephone line; complete railroad f yards were laid out, with switches tor y all the supplies, sufficient to build oven- forty miles more of the road; thie#|^i^. large buildings were erected and oc*:? cupied; a complete machine shop waa- ' in operation; everything was left insj5 order for the next season's work^-' 1 and 600 workmen had been sheltered^ ' and fed without one fatal illness or accident. The line Is now over 34 miles long. apd the revenue is on a basis that^ c would bulge the eyes of a traffic man- * . ager in "the States." Freight is car- . ried for $1 a ton for every mile hauled. sy That is about 125 times as much as m J the rate in the States. Passenge^;-'*" rates are 20 cents a mile--ten times ..Z * the rates on the big lines. I i • . '5 UP THE MOON MOUNTAINS ACCOUNT OF DUKE OF ABRUZZI'S EXPEDITION. Ife'tv.i Ascends the Klysnjs Peak In the Mount Ruwenzori Rang* In. the African Interior. Ifho Duke of AbruEsi is hack from his remarkable expedition into the in­ terior of Africa, where he explored the wonderful Moon mountalitfe, as­ cending Mount Ruwenzori, and scal­ ing the Kiyanja peak, a feat never before accomplished. The intrepid mountain climber has just paid his re­ spects to the Royal Geographical ao- i The Kiyanja Peak Ascended For the First Ti me By the Duke of Abruzzi. clety of London, through whose gener­ ous support he was able to carry on his explorations. The story of the duke's Journey through Uganda, and his ascent of Mount Ruwenzori is an interesting one as told by a member of the expe dition. The party left Entebbe on May 14 last and arrived at Fort Por­ tal fifteen days later, where the Brit­ ish authorities received them kindly and gave him an escort of 30 native soldiers, commanded by a Sudanese cap­ tain, for it must be remembered that the duke had to traverse a strange and in some cases hostile country in order to reach the starting point of the real object of the expedition. On the road from Entebbe to Fort Portal the duke was met by several chiefs, who brought him the usual presents of cattle, pdultry and fruit The party was accompanied by about 100 native carriers, who sang as they marched, sometimes, war or love songs, sometimes a song they had especially composed in honor pf the duke--"the pale Mulanghira (prince) braver than the leopard." On reaching Fort Portal the expe­ dition was met by the British gov­ ernor and the king of Toru. Here a rest of two days was taken. On June 1 the expedition moved to­ wards the valley of the Mobuks river, which springs from Ruwenzori; the weather, which during the first part of the journey had been very hot, grew gradually cooler, until when the high glaciers were approached it be­ came bitterly cold. On June 6, after Beven hours of hard marching, the party reached Kichincin, which Is sit­ uated at an altitude of nearly 7,000 feet above sea level. At this point the Uganda carriers refused to proceed further on account ̂ 'i -a | C* • -i change them for eighty carriers tmfy. cruited among the inhabitants of ther" low mountains (Wakondjo). From here to Bujongolo the party experi­ enced for the first time the damp weather of the Ruwenzori district-- 5 mist, fogs and rains, through which o n l y a t i n t e r v a l s t h e y c o u l d o b t a i n a f t ^ / 4 view of the splendid scenery that sur^'/ ,k J rounded them. At Bujongolo the duka J ordered camp to be struck, and from* .. this place, taking with him four trust* J '« ed Italian guides of the Aosta valley,--' • he started on June 9 for the ascent o|?^ the first peak of the Ruwenzori. Dur» ' "j ing the duke's absence the camp hadi ty to be removed and pitched higher up' 5 near the glaciers, but of the eighty new carriers only seven could be in* * i* duced to proceed, and those only after, • j.' * 'Jj the promise of a large gift in money,.; d Three days later t he duke returned,, * ? , 1 after having reached the first peak," \ which is 16,000 feet high. * 4J On June 13 a dramatic incident ©o- 5 1 curred. For several days the party J had reason to suspect that It wa^ 1 followed by. some wild animal, though on acconut of the great eleva- - tlon and of the rigor of the temper? ature such a thing seemed rather , | strange. However, in the evening dff" ## the same day the Duke Abruzzi wi^-f?'^'^| sitting in front of his tent giving In-' , • ^ structions to Signor Filippo Bulli, whoi ' " 1$ *| was in charge of the scientific section, . ^ of the expedition, when he sprang to t % * h i s f e e t , c r y i n g : " T h e l e o p a r d ! t h e : J v t leopard!" Signor Bulli turned and saw a big leopard two yards away, its* 5 eyes shining in the darkness, with gaping jaws, and on the point of mak-. ' ing a spring. Signor Bulli seized the box whereon he was sitting and hurled it with all his might at the^ mm •j *> beaut, hitting It on the bead. Ther* leopard leaped backwards and ran away through the mud and bushes,, howling with fear, and despite a two. hours' chase it was impossible to trace the animal. On June 18 the duke reached tho highest and hitherto untrodden peak of Ruwenzori (18,220 feet). This he j 0$ ̂ named the Margherita, In honor of the ' V dowager queen of Italy. A careful|/...'S:l;| topographical survey of this mountain - I chain was made. It seems that the- ^ ^ loftiest peaks are in the Congo and * not In the Uganda. Oriental Greetings. Arabians when they meet a Mend/ shake hands six or eight times. Onco is not enough. Should, however, they be persons of distinction, they em­ brace and kiss one another several times, and also kiss their own hands. In Turkey the greeting is to place the; hand upon the breast and bow, which is both graceful and appropriate. Reveal Character. You can trust a woman who sits with her thumbs up. She may be de­ termined. but she 1b not untruthful. wt » The one who conceals her thumbs 1st" >f $ apt to be deceitful and untruthful. Loo£ at the thumb if you want to judge of people's intellectual strength. for the longer it is proportionately tlMK stronger the brain. Sugar-Coated. Some take no verse as mental food* but they are very wrong; a little vera* will do you good, and make you welt and strong. And if you cannot get it raw, you surely can, I wis, actatt , bit into your craw if served as nr«fli j,. . 'I:-'/:?.- of the cold, and the duke ha$ to |Uke this.--L^uiaylUg - - - /•.