stain...msv.scrm~ .‘vâ€"v- ; ; = J- ., , ,l '. -- ‘ " ’Ji Mr. works; a. Practicum? , builder, is so In'shmsn from the neighbor: . j ‘ hood.ol.lnlitchellstcwn, in tbs'dpsnty ‘ Cork. j Brandy - std to bathe drink Wendie!“ f of the anthers". it was displaced byl whiskey; and nowwblskeyis giving way to wine, ale. std. beer. An organ of the London printing trade rs- ‘ minds its readers that Lord Salisbury was si .. strong opponent of reduction of dutia on newspaper show and ps;er, I.) shat pry“- ers have or. cause to love him. Prince Innis of Battenherg Is an excellent practical printer, and once when his. ship. reached a soul! part where no one was competrnt to print the programmes required for s dance given by the editors, the Prince came forward and undertook the work. Clams to the number of a dozen or so fell recently from a clear sky at Momma), Minn, the velocity of their decent shattering the shells. The clams were alive and about four Inchu in length. The phenomenon, it Is said, was witnessed by several trust worthy men. The colored people of New Bedfcrd had a; memorial meetingln honor of Gen. Grant the other evening, at which addresses were made by several clergymen. One of the speakers electriï¬ed the assemblage with this declaration : "I believe that when such names as Hannibal shall have been lost in the vortex of revolution, the name of [1.8. Grant shall shine like the morning star in the military diadem." A preacher in Youngstown, Ohio, having declared from his psilpit â€"-“ on the authority (f a prominent physlcisnâ€â€"that “no less than six ladles belonging to the best circles CHAPTER VLâ€"(CONCLUDlD-l require his attendance every month for But the ï¬rst words I hear distinctly put delirium tremens," the dcctors have held a that project out of my head at once and for- meeting, pronounced the statement to be ever. ridiculous, and demanded that the name of “ But this cannot go cn"â€"-I hear every the “prominent physician" shall be glvtn. word, slurp and clear. “ She will begin to This the clergyman promises to do. suspect something. Even yesterday on the Au .nï¬w‘y new kind of bunk note. print. island you saw how vexed she wasâ€"tho ed in colors, instead of the black and white child Is not a fool. Err. 11. though you seem of the llsok of England notes, is being pre- ‘30 think She ll" ' pared for issue by the Bank of Scotland. “ or con?“ it in 01" Object kéep hal‘ in The chief novelty of the now note is In its the dark as long as possible. But any one VOL. XIII. Growing Old. Grow In: old i he ruled measure Keeps its even tenor still; Eye and hand our fail nor falter, And the brain obeys the will: Only by the whitening trusses. And the deepening wrinkles told, \‘cutk has psesedawsy like vapor; Prime ls gone, and I grow old. Laughter bushes at my presence. Gay young vows whisper lower, iii dare to linger by It, All the stream of life runs slower, Though I love the mirth of children. Though I pr?†youth‘s virgin gold, What have I to do with either! Time Is tellingâ€"l grow old. Not so dread the gloomy river lint lshrsnk from socf yore: All my ï¬rst of love and friendrhlp (lather on the further shore, Wm It not the best to Join than: Era I feel the blood runooldi Zr: 1 hesrlt said tooharshly, “Bland beck from ueâ€"yau sreokl l†STURMANIEUNSHINE. colors, which will, of coursa, make xcproduc- bl“ ‘5 {001 “Onld 113" guea'e'i 0‘“ 390’“ ‘- ticn by photography impossible, and, it is 1008 ‘80-†believed, will prevent forgery. The paper “ Y0“ mom“ '10“ not Sue“ in" on which the bank note is printed is made by the same firm that produces the Bank of I “m in 10"" With “‘18-†England note. “ Poor little Lisle l" The place of the Keeper of the Royal _It i. ma 7Ҡpm“ me' ï¬nd not him! T, uni. Court is “th through the death Fiend as I think her, I ranember that. And of the Right lion. \V. Bcrcsford, the last yet I loved him 50 "web better than I loved holder of the sineonre, which is worth $6,000 ‘ h" ! . . , . “I wonder how in l ' f ‘ yur' . '1‘“; "'1' “ammo the mmmor‘ " moment that any mana a :ï¬lduggknit Olin: expected to visit the court once a year and see that it still exists. A somewhat similar "hue you were m tho mom' E11011 laugha' . w , amused. ;.necuro is the (.uovornorshlp of Duck l and ,, You not very wen,†Judith,s voice an_ island, a place of ground about as largo as . . . the um H , 00m .n the 000 In a s‘wgrs, With a shadow of reproach In It. m 3 r ‘ per 3 mt") lcrhaps you are also amusing yourself at creatcd by the Merry Monarch, the salary my expense 3" ll $7.000. _ H You think that Judith 2" A London paper says: “A telegram from “ No, I do not think it. I know you love Belgium, to the effect that the dock laborers me as far as you are capable of loving any on the Scheldt have consented to the eroc- woman."_ tlon of a grain elevator, reminds one that “Judith !" less than ‘sixty-yem-sinooé'suc amxbibih“ puff I love you,†she says simply. tlon ofl‘oborhocoggmohmry ; sithllt how .avinu I am sure of that." be'ng igldfsg‘Sgp'lglgeuiingtonvwegid he“ V,“ And I love you l Ah, give me one, been impcsoible. If attempted, it would Judith '. You know I love you with my have been wrecked by in infuriated mob whole heart and soul." i A good deal cfAnllghtonment ouvthesubjeot . of machinery liand labor has taken place one who" .- . Crinclinc seems to be exceedingly an- chnt. Hesiod; who wrote In,tho, eighth. century before Christ, must have observed something of the kind, for he advises young men not to be led astray by certain women of his dgyyvho wore their clothes puffed out~ behind.‘E_f,Ii;drgss-lmprcvers were pctuslly" worn by the Greek women of Hesiod's day it is not improbable that they were also worn 200 years earlier, and that Helen, when she tied with Paris to troy, wore some prxmlthn of urinolipe. '; K , ; » p A San Francisco continues one of the health- iest cities In the world, with an annual death rate of 19.3% per thousand, which is lower than the death ran in thirteen foreign cities and eleven American cities relented for comparisonâ€"that is to say, of foreign cities, London, Lit-errool, Manches- At all i hurriedlyâ€"- “We must go in, Erroll. we are together all this time i" “ But think of how dearly I pay for these few stolen moments with you, darling! ’ " I think it Is Lisle who paysfor them. Ah, poor Lisle" .Lisle has never even dreamed of such love as we feel for each other, Judith." “I hope not, poor child 1" Poor child 2 She calls me poor child ; but he never utters one single word of pity for me from first to last. 1‘ She will marry somebody else before the year is out, and forget all about me." “We have treated her cruelly between us, Erroll." “ It could not be helpedâ€"we could most If you had let me go to If they think in no other way. the \'icarageâ€"_â€"-" "Don't you think my enemies, pcrsecu “ Because she has persuaded herself thatf “fraud to thwart me' “Oh, Erroll"â€"it is my last despairing cryâ€"“ how could you have pretended to love me! How could you be so cruel, soâ€" so base 2" “I never loved you i" “ I know that new. But I was so young and foolish, andâ€"and I loved you so much I" “ Pshsw l" he exclaims, turning on his heel. “ You know no more of what love really means than that little white cloud floating up there in the sky I" I stand looking after him, but he never turns his head. “I never loved you l" The words ring in my ears, the green alley swims round me, the hedge bobs up and down ; I cover my eyes with my hands with one despairing moan, and sink down in a heap upon the mossy walk. They ï¬nd me a few minutes later, Mrs. lutherfurd having sent them all to search for me, alarmed by my non-appearance at luncheon. At ï¬rst they think I am dead, I but the Doctor, who is sent for immediately, J pronounces it to be a fainting-tit only, prob- ably brought cn by the heat of the sun. I do not rave at all, rr betray my miserable secret in any way as I return to conscious- ! aces, and I am glad of it. But I will not have Judith near me, which surprises Mrs. f ltutherfurd, or would have surprised her if isho had not accounted for it by the disorder l of my brain. Neither will I remain a single l hour longer than I can help at Velfry. ’ Mrs. Rutherford is exceedingly anxious that I should stay quietly in my own row i there for the next day or two at least, prom- licing that no one shall come near me but herself. But I will not have the carriage countermandcd, and Mrs Rutherford is Before ï¬ve o'clock I am lying in my own bed at Osierbrcok, with the curtains drawn and aunt Theodosia sit- ting silently knitting in the big oldiashion- ed armchair at the foot of the bed. Hero I can weep and weep and weep, and no one be the wiser. here I can groan deep in my misery, for dear old aunt Theodosia is too deaf to hear. Judith has had her revenge on Mrs. tutheriurd ; but she has broken my heart! . It is three months before I leave that bed againâ€"during some of that time a great many people thought I should never leave it again alive. But youth and a good con- stitution pulled me through-that and the cure those four good woman bestowed on the gracelrss child who had deï¬ed them when she was strong and well. They never grow weary, they are never impatient; they bear with me as my own mightâ€"they seem to me like angels, with- ered and old and homely as they are, when they band over me through the long weary night-watches, putting cool bandages on my cious ice on my parched tongue. They are always there, one or other of them ; in the dead of the night I see them, sitting in the big chair, the candles throwing their shad- ows grotesquely upon the opposite wall, their spectacles on their noses, their B.bles open on their kn=es, their placid old faces i so calm and peaceful, sheddingan answer- ing peace into my soul. If I get well, I will be good to them al- waysâ€"never laugh at them, never call them odd, or old, or ugly, never disobey them in thought or word or deed. IfI get welll But ifIdo not? If I dieâ€"- I, Lisle Warburtonâ€"if Idle, and am put in- to a coffin and buried beside my mother in the shady old church-yard on the hill l I think perhaps that will be betterâ€"better even than to live to show my gratitude to my aunts. They will soon know how grateful I am ter, Sheffield, Leeds, llull, Stockholm,‘ Buenos Ayres, Dublin, Belfast, Berlin, Munich, and Hamburg; and of American cities, New Yolk, Boston, l‘ittsburg,j tors, and slanderers were bitter enough with- out giving them any real cause for com- plaint‘!" “Well, I acknowledge that you were right about that," he says a little sulkily. \Vuhingtun, St. Innis, New Orleans,‘..Judm,. wmetim“ I “ï¬nk you do not Charleston, Richmond. ' The champion lam ly for elaborate names it is tobc found near llsrdoe, Ark. The father's name Is Elisha Shirley, his wife's name is llsrritt h‘usannch Maris Jane Shirley, and their oldest daughter, If» years old, is called Ann Elisabeth Dixie Shirley. Then comes Benjamin Kirby Smith General “who? Shirley, aged 13; Robert Enos Napoleon Bonaparte ' Leo Wilkes Booth Shirl-y. who is 9 years old : John Thomas ‘ Emsnnsl Forest Champion Gstewood, Shirley ls 7 years old, while J usepli \Vbeel- i or anlioolier Stonewall Jackson Sam Hilde- llallimorc, Savannah, brand Sterling Prince Shirley Is 5 years old. , be [nodule-form penile to‘iove es‘ch other with Mary ~Virginia "we do and forget. The family ends love me as well as I love you." “ Why do you think an!†“ You‘think of what people will say. I think of nothing but you." “of nothing but yourself, you mean.†“Judithâ€"I who have never cared for any woman but you, who never forgot you in all these yearsâ€"I wish you loved me even half as wellas I love you l ' “ You need not doubt the quality of my love," she answers, her quiet tune contrast- ing curiously uith the passion In his. I love you, Errol], and I shall love you till the day I die." †I think you will. I do not think it could South Carolina normscoorga Alsbaiha (m1 have." Loulslsna Shirley, who via ,1 years old. Surely it would be hard to beat this. O (Tonnkatldni on Olive streé‘i z: Youngl Swell-W What made you pull u: when we ' l our nï¬rs put in the papers “I‘olfcemb- That's fashionable nowadays. " . . _ l â€""tlli,“i was" tithle uhVeilIng a hostel " l-eroll, I must go now. No ; you cannot come with mol l have to remind you of that so often "â€"â€"snd she laughs. “ ltls as fully hard 2' be unaware Impo- Atlantly. were on a little tear last night and have i 4:33;“;03: pixiigiuuirï¬ibfgaioz: I straighten myself from the crouching attitude In which I have been listening for what has seemed to use an Inï¬n~ Cert Nth 0- Law. who died n “lno- . a, of torment, and turn to meet him uh. 1"“ "‘“n' Mn“ 1‘“ '“k- '“» d‘flnfl scans small miserable wild animsl brought round this way. his life, star-aw months, or nearly twanty- “ my 1,, ‘8’“, dog. six years. He landed In'New Redford 33,- 000 barrels of whale oil. 5 too of sperm oil, and 8“: 000 pounds of whalebces, and he was called the champion of the whale ï¬shery. 08 my facet†Physicianâ€"“Why, I“ then main. Spotssreisshloesbleuow." lady -" mm}. mu. luipiwlfl a hriagostiesrtlnpeu.‘ {W “ ' ‘ “ Sumner resort hetelsere putting on big adjectives and emails keeping pace with the season. Mounbenm, who kreps nu “ Boudoir,“ was taken to task for stretch- thsmklcse."ssldafriend, “lees you ad- ruckstbuyourroemsbsvsbseusolsrgd.†“Ssdsyhsl.†"Botthsrs have been no mismatworkcu yourplscst' “Sci pspsreldess wall. Seal†1 Y ‘3'" “bi. glam ‘5'" C‘s“: ,3“ 1,â€... he catches sight of me, standing npi sf" Mus-shampoo "in the middle at to. lug green they. ml 0 Yesâ€"quite well." â€" . CIIAI’TRII v1L. some lhlm, my heads clenched, Ind.- “ Yes. I am here." lyou have been"esvesdrepping 2" ‘ “Yesâ€"ll youehecseteesnltse.†"\Vlththsu.loslrssultr‘bsaska, with tag his sdv‘o‘tissment too much. “iii'theiirstsnssriksveevsrseenenhlshsnd‘ “smooth. ; " Iotrkhlycldnothesrsny goodoimy- lssliâ€"oroiyoo." l "i‘srhspshwssjutsswelltbatyflm Wait till I tale you: I ha! mood du,beer,"hegouou,recoveringlaiscoum ,“iior-eumtirsdolthialiï¬sgm" Thaw“ & qumk km“ and Judith any! ’ hot miserable forehead, lumps of cold deli- 'l'hat is the only cem- " You here, Lisle l" Rrrcll cxelslms, the my face destth "And I suppose," he says, looking at me "We Nam color cheesesâ€"1‘ 1 “99°†to them. They must soon dis, all of them and in Heaven I can tell themâ€"my mother tooâ€"she will tell them -â€" “ This is some nice lemonade, dear. “'calt you try to drink it i" Aunt Theodosia is bending over me. Aunt Auchoretta is standing at the foot of ï¬le bed, wiping her spectacles. Aunt Emily Is cry- ng silently near the ï¬re. “ thst ls aunt Emily crying for? Am I ’going to die? Tell her not to cry. Iâ€"I don't mind." †You are not going to die, dear child. You are going to get well." “ To got well 2" " Yes. very weak yet. ngsi n. " But you must not speakâ€"you are Drink this and go to sleep “ Aunt Auchoretta, why are you shaking your head 2" I am sitting in an arm-chair in the draw- ing-room at Osierbrook. The window be- side me stands wide open, but the October air is warm, and I am well wrapped-up in the decay white shawl aunt Anna has knit- ted for me. My lsp is full of flowers, late roses, and stock and mignonnem from aunt Theodosls's garden, which I am arranging into bouquets for the school children to Wear at somejue or other tomorrow. My ï¬ngers are not of much use to me yet, they are so stiff and feeble ; but I love to touch “the iliwers, and aunt Emily will tie each bouquet over again afterwards. “ Was I shaking my head, deer 2" " indeed you wereâ€"till i thought it would fall oil 1" I laugh feeny at my own joke. Aunt An- choretts crease the room to my window. “ Do you remembsrdodlth Irving, Ulla?! My heartch not best faster: I am not occasions of any pengcf recollectionâ€"only of s vague, numb, curious feeiiug. such as one sometimes experiences when an old wound is touched which has long incebeeu healed. " We never liked her,†aunt Anchorstts says gravely. “She wasnot sgirlwecoold «team. I do not wish to speak unchan- tiblyclanyens, butlslwsyshsdsn idea that she would not turn out well." " What has she done i†" You remember Erroll Rutherford 3" " Yes," lasswsr, in the same dreamy, namely Interested way. FENELON FALLS, ONTARIO, SATURDAY, AUGUST 29, Aunt Anchoretta, looking at me, sighs s - sigh of intense relief. “ He was another person of whom I had a poor opluicn, though at one time we all thought he meant to turn over a new leaf andâ€"and marry a girl who would have pull- ed him up instead of dragging him down. But now, it seems, these two have put I. cli- msxto all their foolish doings by running away with each other 3" " By running away 2" “ Soit seems. This letter is from Mrs. Rutherf'urd, who is heartbroken about It. It seems that Erroll has nothing, and Miss Irving lass. How they are tolive nobody knows but themselves. ’ " Aunt Anchoretta, do you like pink roses and mignonnette togetherâ€"so 2" I hold up rho little bouquet for her inspec- tion, smiling; and she, approving of it, pro- ceeds to make two or three after the same pattern. I do not ask another question. nor does aunt Auchoretta allude to her .lettcr any more, so completely has my old love dream faded awayâ€"so completely have I forgotten the lover whose "Honour, rooted Iu disbouour, stood. Whose faith, urfsithful, kept him falsely true. 0 l s “ What brings Ralph Rutherford here so often 2" It is aunt Theodosia who asks the ques- tion. And she asks it of me, looking at me over the edge of the wheelbarrow as she stoops to gather up the pile of weeds she has raked together on the garden walk. “ How should I know, aunt Theodosia 2" “ I thought you might, that was all I" Do I know 2 I stand by the wheelbarrow, looking down dreamin at the clean-swept path. It is just a year since I came to Osier- brookâ€"a year this very day. . The May sun- shine liss Warm cu aunt Theodosia’s flower- bods, on the overblown evening primroses on the budding lily-of-the-valley. I have got on a. fresh brown linen gown, prettin made, with big pearl buttons, and a Zulu hat. My hair has grown again ; but only into a crop of babyish short curls. And I feel quiw strong and well again, and have grown brown and sunburut, riding my pony over the breezy hills and through the long green winding lanes ; but, though‘my wings that were clipped have grown again, I never feel in the least inclined to fly away, Ilove Osierbrcokâ€"the peace, the serene quiet, the quaint, formal, sunny days, the sweat calm. nights through which I sleep so soundly, tired by the loving attendance to give which is the one great object of my life. Those feeble hands shall do nothing that mine can do instead; those faltering steps shall al- ways bo steadied by my strong young arm. They may be pcevish sometimes, and ob- stinate, and apt to think their own old way the best; but I can bear with themâ€"no sharp word shall over pass my lips, no slight hint that their monotonous, often-repeated stories are not as fresh and delightful to me as the very newest number of my favourite “ monthly ;" no yawn shall betray how their late hours weary me, no smile show that I am conscious of the quaint mistakes they make, or their still quainter correction of each other. I love them, and I count my service nothing for the love I bear themâ€" thcy are so good, so old, so near the awful verge of that eternity of which they do not seem to be afraid. “ I guessed he was coming here i" The words rouse me from my reverie. Ralph Rutherford has turned in at the low while gateâ€"is riding up the avenue. At the door he dismounts from his horse ; old Taylor takes the bridle. In another minute he is standing beside me in Aunt Theodosla's garden in his plain riding dross, his whip in his hand, but s. grave smile in his quiet hazel eyes. “ Are you busy, Lisle 2" “ Not very busy," I answer, smiling. " Because I wanted to speak to you." “ To speak to me 2†He makes no answer to that, moving slowly down the clean swept garden-walk, and so constraining me to keep him company. " Lisle, have you ever wondered, why I v came to Osierbrock so often '1" “ I haveâ€" sometimes.†“ And what reason did you give yourself 3 ' "I thought you came to ask for me~at ï¬rst, when I was IIL" “ And afterwards I" “I thought you took an interest in me be. cause I had been so very near death." “ I took an interest in you from the very first day you came to Velfry, Lisle."â€", with wool;repeat from †You 2" " Yes, I. But I thoughtâ€"thenâ€"that you cared for some one else." " So I did !" I answer, smiling. “ You have got over that f"â€"-†Quite." “ So I thought-long ago. old and grave, Lisleâ€"so much older than edges. 2d roundâ€"4 chain stitches, you, I mean. Could you ever care for me 2" turns a, double crochet on the following Have I not been caring for h in ever since those convalescent days when he had rI 'den on the BI of the ï¬rst 4 chain. 3d round.â€" over to Osierbrcok, and sat on the low slll of the drawing-room window, holding his horse's bridle over his arm and talking to lose in his grave, pleasant, curiously diï¬dent " Lisle, could you ever care for use though to marry me 1'" “ I mightâ€"some day." “ Lisle, my darling, do you care for me now 3" Aunt Theodosia is s little deal, but she Is not at all blind. And I suppose she dis- ltlnetiy sees Ralph Rutherford put his arm , round meanddrsw my head downto his ,hreast. Perhaps she even sees him kiss me! ‘Butlamsohappythstldo notgrudgeher I the satisfaction I know she derives from tbsprocsediog.ahsurdssltmustlock tos’ third party. “But I moot leave my aunts, Ralph." t w . 4,... as.~ HOUSEH OLD. A Delicious Summer Drisk. Tea is one of the most delicious of summer drinks, but few persons know how to prepare it so that it is refreshing, palatable, and, in a certain sense, aesthetic. Common custom in this country makes its preparation one of the servant's duties. It therefore comes to the table almost always black with too much strength and steeping, if, perchsnce, it has not boiled. It then has saber-by flavor, and no more resembles genuine tea than the electric light is comparable to moonlight. Tea should always be made on the table, and three minut-e will sufï¬ce for its com- pounding. Secure a small copper kettle of boiling water, with an alcohol lamp be- neath, a pretty tea caddy of choice teaâ€"for good tea is really economicalâ€"a delicate china pot and cups and saucers, and lastly a pair of fair hands that serve a grace- ful and gracious lady, andyou have the in- gredients for a cup of tea in which the pos ribilitles of aesthetic pleasure are only limit- ed by the sensibility of the recipient. Take a tiny lump of sugar, if ysuplease, and even a thin slice of lemon, but do not spoil the exquisite flavor and winelike color by even a drop of milk or cream. If iced tea is desir- ed pour the freshly made t a into a glass in which there are lumps of ice and sugar. It is often prepared and put away to stand in the ice chest till rrquired, but by this means ti o delicate aroma of the tea passes away, and there is a consequent flatness percepti- ble to every one who knows how to make and appreciatethe rightly made cup of tea. Notes for Housekeepers. Thc best way to brightona carpeï¬is to put half a tumbler of spirits of turpentine in at basin of water and dip your broom in it and sweep over the carpet once or twice, and it will restore the color and brighten it up un- til you would think it new. Lemon juice will whiten frosting, cran- berry or strawberry juice will color it pink, and the grated rind of an orange strained through a cloth will color it yellow. Silver spoons that have become discolored, in contact with cooked eggs, may be easily brightench by rubbing with common salt. A lump of gum-camphor in the closet where I silver or plated ware is kept will do muchl toward preventing tarnish. cccr alum; I'lCKLES. A correspondent gives some timely hints in regard to making cucumber pickles. He says that cucumbers for immediate use may be pickled by making a brineâ€"a saturated solution of saltâ€"coveriugthe cucumbers wit h It, and adding water, if necessary. This strong brine will act sufï¬ciently in one night if poured on hot; if cold, give it twenty-four hours. Drain off the brine and pack in a jar with scalded vinegar, cloves, cinnamon, and a lump of alum as lig as a marble for each two gallons of cucumbers. Pour the spiced vinegar hot on the cucumbers, and add a piece of horseradish root as large as a man's ï¬nger, and, if desired, two or three green peppers. These pickles will be ready for use in three days, and will keep for years. then cucumbers are packed for market only strong brine is necessary; for, when needed for use, they are taken out of the brine, froshened, and then put into vi n egar, with spices etc. Knitte Cradle or Carriage Afghan- Thls soft white blanket is knitted with leviathan wool, which is composed of many strands, and is very thick and soft. With the _____ s...â€" - .., ~__., NO 28. .-- _._a-._.-- ..â€" ....~) Prof- Bell at Work. Prof. Bell is actively at work upon pro blenu of sound and electricity in a way that promises an invention of far greater import ance, scientiï¬cally and pracxically, and the telephone itself. His laboratory is an old- fashioned two story house on Connecticut avenue, in he neighborhood of the British Legation, Washington. He also has a private and secret laboratory over in Georgetown, where at present he has a most skilful work- man engaged upon the forthcoming instiu. meut. What Is it, is known only to the pro- fessor and the man who is working at the idea. The inventor has said to his friend, that if he succeeds, the new idea will yield him greater returns than the telephone has. It is suspected, however, by those who have given some attention to the course of Prof. B In thoughts upon the subject that It Is the photophone, or the use of e1. ctriclty to reproduce over the wires the image of the person speaking brfore thsinstrument. Pref. Bell is a man of prodigious mental energy, and he is constantly developing new ideas and new applications of electrical force for the production of csefulmschines. Hethrows them off as easily and carelessly as you can fancy. For instance, he made not long ago an instrument called the audiomc or, perhaps not a dozen of whlch have been made. It consists of magnetic cylinders graduated to each other. These cylinders will indicate by measurement how much sound it is possible for a deaf person to hear, and if they hear any at all. r’rof. Bell has also devised an instrument, which might be called the submarine telephone, by which can be ascertained, by the echo from a stone dropped upon the bottom of the bay or river in which the craft may be floating just what the depth is at that point. He has also uti- lized the telephone to record the echo at sea which may show the d staucsof ice bsrgs and other obstructions. Even a buoy can be distinguished by its use l’roi. Bell is grad- ually growing out of all business pursuits, and devoting himself to the improvement of the deaf. He is constantly giving more and more time to his little school, where he has perhaps ascorc of puplls, most all of them wholly deaf, to whom he is teaching the art of sight language. He is training there lit- tle children so that' they can distinguish from the lips and face of the person speak- ing what the say, and teaching them to im- itate the proper arrangement of the lips, teeth and tongue, so that they may articu- late sounds. It is understood that I’rof. Doll is at work upon tho problem of resolving heat at once into electricity, 9. result, if it can be obtained, that :willzgreatly slmplif y and cheapen all uses of electricity. â€"â€"<â€"¢e.â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"- The Troops at Suskim. A little time ago we were enabled by a correspondent at Suakim to give the public some idea of what our soldiers, both British and Indian, are suffering at that delectable spot. Another communication shows that the lowest depth was by no means reached at the time when our correspondent ï¬rst wrote. “We are having severe times of it in this awful heat," he now writes; "the thermometer registers 125 degrees in the tents, and we have neither tattlos nor pun- kahs." Even the most acolimatised Anglo- Indian feels suffocated when the thermome- ter rises 100 degrees Inside his bungalow, and what, then, must be the misery of hu- man lifc when the temperature is ‘25 per cent. higher! “'o are not at all astonished to hear that the European battalion has dwindled from 900 to 500 men, or that the survivors “ are going out like flies." Nor l are the native troops apparently much bet- ter. They do not suffer so much as the Eur- . recorded in this district. Itrack with its spine broken. But I am so the ends of_wool and silk knotted at the side wool is mingled astrand of light blue rope 01mm“ “Om the lawn)!" m“. but h°m°' silk. The knitted centre is surrounded with flame" h" "t in “"098 them 5‘ we Pro‘ a narrow crochet edging, through an inch- Phuicd it WWld» Md the" ll 3° more 0°" wide blue satin ribbon is drawn. With coarse “in “use for “dim†th‘n th‘i- A“ lb“ wooden knittingneedlcs cast on the number the? “k {0" l' “W hing 0‘ '°m° an†i" of stitches necessary for the size of afghans the" en‘b‘Ikl‘uon- They We†brought ‘0 desired, and knit in forward rows only ; at “"3 Rad 5“ "no"! {0" 1‘ “Home Puri’owo the end of each row knit the wool and silk til“ 0‘ ï¬ghting O'mm Dismn. 3nd "my con’ together. 13: mw._- put the Ink round ' sider it a flagrant breach of engagement for the needle, knit ‘2 stitches with the wool, ‘ th" (“Veinm‘mt ‘0 keell "mm “(Gully put the last of them on the left hand needle, " "flying in their "in juiw" {or ‘3 indent“ and purl It with the silk ; repeat from '. 2d ‘ ii‘ P0“0d an" “"3" PWI’" work h" been row.__ _ . Knit the no“ “itch Wm, long finished. To make matters worse, the wool, but omitting the silk put over in the wpply of ice has run so Ihort that it can 110 last row, take the stitch on the left hand huge" inhuma- needle and with silk purl the silk put over ', ' ' ' and the stitch together, then put the silk The Bill†of ontoâ€- srouud the needle, knit tho following stitch huh °_"‘°" no lehrly "ml. trip Continue to y in their imagery. The extreme m :billty of in“ u in the last row, but “mm.†um . t no Celtic mind, the rapidity with‘whlch It pitum-u shown [,1 the mutation can i awompllshos its processes, wlule highly con- off the stitches after the last row, and then i dud†to "many “‘1 i'ikuy‘ 1' “mm†- - l bl at the same time foralsrge share of work a round in sin 16 crochet about the “ " edge ‘ in the can", 0% which work Mound the bulls and blunders which Irish speakers l are notoriously liable to commit, and which then by ‘ area the m st finished Irish orsfors have not 21 ‘ always been successful in guarding against. mm}, god 1 chin ; C10†with g '11,, “mm Half the so~called Irlsh'bnlls are mlxed met, aphcrs. The Home Rule menb 3r who spoke By turns 7 chain and a single on the follow- ' of ‘ rm? mm"? “ u “all? unkbe‘dd' ‘1 , ing 2d double in the last row. «Ith row.â€" i ‘0 “19 Ch‘m °l hl‘h lmd°ms 1"†“m to have added another gem to the crown of I ‘Work with silk by turns aslngle on the I % next double omltbd in the last round, and “mun†“mimic: “d “3° ‘Elhhf Who 7 chain, but after working the last of the 7 ‘ “mpl‘lfld ’bw‘m' “a†an†um “inno' ichsln drop the stitch from the needle and W“ '9'“ "° b‘hâ€˜ï¬ â€œNunuy "‘3 w a“ ' their blood was shed by the take it up again through the next chaln‘ï¬sllowl, where " scallop in the last row before working the English ill-03min. Ibowod tbaboldness in l next single: close with a slip stitch on tho I “I dullne- VM‘ lwgn‘†‘0 "Nah “3"†5“, may,†no “up,†mug-nu“, Saxon speakers never rise. Nor could Sir 1 hi}; lllcylo Rcche himself have improved on a =plainly shows the manner of war g. ' so in . .pmh d on. of u. s craters Inwhlch he draws harrow- “Thers’s plentyoiroom at the bottom,"le “am of u†'0“ a, M. “atâ€. laid the cndertow, as it tried yank the ' “Inlud'n b. a“ "no" other my, “I. law!" o“ “I pi"; b“ u†(“’1' hubs owrrun with absentee landlords. The cup gplenty ciroom at the top, declined with s 0‘ h" mm b "uflo'b‘_q.’ M u h ‘ “"3†not full yet." Clerk â€"“ What do you say? A shovel eu- lgineeron thersllwsyl V You meansclvilen-, I gineer.†Bhsâ€"“ 0h, demsy you're right, 0“.†sutural death." That Is not our fault. Benet-king on the Weutben At l was {me in: o‘er a sills. l and my sweetheart true wrath". Said be: “What thick 3031.)“ use near. Will new-narrows weather? Ibo-woodwoothsty‘epm fly sweetheart sad a: sat together. I (and up to the blight lac sky. The wind from the “Rut was gently Neill“ : And. on uh, ï¬elded wuvmgns. The noondsy sun was warmly glowing. Iconic not tell. ladredmotl; Isak! ‘tess knot-ledge put my keewinr: There might be rain, then mlgblbe shins, 0r morrcw‘s troublrs pastulolo‘; Soon. I whispered. svsysko . Dom fall for shadows close warming. Es kissed myllps asthsie I stud: Alas whucoekl I do fcrhlushlscl Thee cried lâ€""Ok, my pretty soon-1. You are most rudely crushing 2" Be kissedmyllps; [knew ‘twaswroag. Yet joy went thrc‘ my heart swift dishing; ' ' [is held seeInhls amssostrcng, My pretty mood colic crushing. The morrow bromht Its wealth of boson And s'rswed them all the meadows over. And to my heart breth brighter glean“. For 0. It brought to an my lover. no klsstd my lips; what could I do 2 And swore me love heubtrss Imvsr: “ Dime shadow all so does years-r.“ Said he, " Now slat my prayer unto. And let as hosts the wedding over.‘ 2‘ THREE BLEEDING VICTIMS. Scene or the Killine or llrs. Sanders. ller son and llrolher. The accident at St. Thomas by which Mrs. Fred Sanders, her son, a bright little fellow of 5 years, and Mr. J. C. Dempsey, bur brother, an employee of the llamlltcu, Ont., post ofï¬ce, was one of the most appalling ever The accident, as is known, occurred on the L. k l’. S. railway crossng The scene after the collision be- tween the buggy and the locomotive was a , , terrible one. The horse was thrown sever.- teen yards and lay on the east side of the The buggy was thrown about twice the distance and was a complete wn ck. The body of Mrs. San ders lay 54 yards north of the crossing on the east side of the truck, her feet towards the ditch. Her head was completely severed from her body and 1) ing alongside of it with the mangled and bleeding ntck pointing up- ward. lier body was horribly mutilated and presented a sickening spectacle. lie chest and sides were crushed in, one arm torn from the body and the other broken and mangled. Iicr legs were likewise both broken in several places, and she preseu'ed the ap- pearance of being rolled and tumbled along the track, which for a distance of ten feet was strewn with the blood and brslus of the victim. A gentleman picked up her collar broken in two at the back and covered with ’ blood. Mr. N.._“'cbb, whose story of the : accident has been published, found her locket with the monogram “F. C. S." inscribed up_ on it, in the sand between the ties. The body of Dempsey lay on the same side of the track as that of Mrs. Sanders, about one hundred yards from the crosring, or twice as far as that at Mrs. Sanders. lie also lay with his head towards the track and his foot point- Iug eastward. His skull was crushedi at the back and front, and there was a gash - across his body, while blood gushed from his mouth and eyes. The child, it appears. was thrown from the buggy upon the cowcatcher. and it was not until the train was stopped that the body was found on the beam support- ing the cowcatcher. There the little fellow lay upon his back, in his neat and brl idrd suit of blue, with on- hand upon his forehead as if to protect himself from some approach- ing danger. His countenance was calm and placid, and he looked as if in a quiet sleep, but from his nook and head the crimson blood ilowcd down the beam upon the track. Many a rough and hardened heart among the scores of spectators who hurriedly crowd- ed to the scene was melted ss hlseyos caught the visage of the child. Mr. Sanders, the sillictcd husband and father, is prostrated by the shock. No Inquest was held, as no blame attaches to the railway employees. His Annual Pass- The editor of the ltsckville Sryllu, is a smart nun. The other day while on board a railway train he sat down beslde s passen- ger and, handing hIm a paper, said: “ilere's a copy of my last issue." The passenger took the paper and thanked the editor. “Do you travel much over this road 2" the editor asked. “Not a great deal." “You bet I do. They give me an annual pass, you know. Nothing like havILg an annual. I am can- stitutionally opposed to paying a railroad any thing; ain't you '3 ' "Well, I am not (and of paying." "Hay," sald the editor, “I don't mind telling you a little something. I am rather hard up to-day, and I'll sell you my pass for ten dollars." "Then what will you do 3†“0h, I’ll get another one. I'll tell 'nn 1 lost It, don't you see? ()h, I know how to work '1 m. 'l‘akesa cauntry newspa- per msn for that, oh 3" continued the editor, laughing heartily. "I never saw a railroad that i couldn't work. How far «lo you go 1‘ "All the way through." "That so? Now, sh, If you had a pass like this you would be fixed. What business are you In t" “I am the general superintendent of thls road. Let me take that pass." At present, the editor of the liu-kvllle Scythe has no annual pass. â€"-â€"â€"-â€"â€"â€"eâ€".e.â€"-â€"-â€"â€" A Legacy of the Slave Trade. Yellow fever Is the direct result of the slave trafï¬c, the dread scourge having been unknown In America till brought here by that trade. The African disease, fnteusliied by the ï¬lthy habits of human cargoes, came first to the port of Vera Cuts, with a slave ship in "590, and In lIks manner was trans- ferred to all the West indies. In Vera Cruz, whenever an old wall ls taken down or s street dug Into, the fever Is sure to break out with rsdoobled force In that Io:sllty, thus showing that the germs are always present, though sometimes dormant until disturbed. Among the numerous yellow fever stories with which Vera Crunns are wont to «beer visiting strangers they tell that once a vessel drifted Into port. apparently at random, and without hoisting say of the usual signals. Rumors ran through the Anionï¬ï¬‚cloum-I-Iv- “M W db towuthstspirsteshiphsdarrlvsd,crssms foreign embassy on s seaet mission; but it You shall come to them new day, dsr- .01», It's him that shovels coal Into the en, Just as many die a natural death as If we ‘ gnu, a“ mug. can my board“! by use tlbg,aslnegsstbeylivs." i And,wlththlssssursnceto comfort nus, I plight my truth. for up. Alltbeyhsvetodoistodrillitdeep, Oilprodeesrsknewhowtogstslcngsrell. isginsrqnslhsnd the other ls squatting -- ' didn't go a-flshing. i What is the diflsrencs between westhsr- lovelesst it: a ship's boat! One is yacht opinion on the step." captain!†“ Ass friend." insyswL advise you to commit suicide bs/m going." lsnthorliles, who found it to he s char-asl- "Csptsin, i am thinking of going to sea house of decomposing corpses,far every soul lngastormina pleasure craft and sitting ins whaler. I would like to have yenr‘an board had perished of vomito, "Assfrisudersssl “Thsnlkuld' mammwm the mercury, as ' well as the students. takes degrees.