The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

- __. -.fi 0,... 3 i i } THE. VICAR’S GOVERNESS. CHAPTER XXXI. "One Woe doth tread upon axiotiicr’s heel. So fast they follow."â€"Hanilet. "One. that was a woman. sir."â€"Hamlet. Across the autumn grass. .tlml has browned beneath the scorching sum- mer rays, and through the fitful sun- shine, comes James Scrape. Through the woods, under the dying neechtrees that lead to UO\\'I‘JU. he saunters slowly, thinking only of the girl beyond, who is not thinking of him at all, but of the man who. in his soul, g Sir James believes utterly unworthy of her. ' I This thought so engrOSsed him, as he walks along, that he fails to hear Mrs. Bransco-mbe. until she is close besidef him. and until she says; gently.â€" “How d'ye do, Sir James '2" At this his start is so visible that she laughs. and says, with a faint blush,â€" ”\Vhatl is my coming so light that one fails to hear it i" To which he. recovering himself, makes ready response: "So light a foot \Vlll ne'er wear out the everlasting flint." Then, “You are coming from Gow- ran?" "Yes; from Clarissa." "She is well 3" "Yes, and I suppose, happy,”â€"with a. shrug. "She expects Horace to-inor- row." There is certain scorn in her manner, that attracts his notice. “Is that sufficient to create happi- ness 3" he says, somewhat bitterly, in spite of himself. “But of course it is. You know Horace ?" “Not well, but well enough," says Mrs. Branscombe. with a frown. “I know him well enough to hate him." She pauses, rather ashamed of her- self for her impulsive confidence, and not at all aware that by this hasty speech she has made a friend of Sir James for life. "Hate him i" he says. feeling he could willingly embrace her on the spot were society differently constituted. “\Vhy. what has he done to you '7" “Nothing; but he is not good enough for Clarissa,” protests she, energeti- cally." But then who is good enough? I really think." says Mrs. BransIcombe. with earnest conviction, "she is for too sweet to be thrown away upon any man." I liven this awful speech fails to cool Sir James's admiration for the specker. She has declared herself a non admirer of the all-powerful Horace. and this goes so far a. way with him that he can- not. bring himself to find fault With her on any score. "I don’t know why Iexprcss my likes and dislikes to you so openly, she says. gravely. a little later on_: ' and I don't. know either, why I distrust Horace. I have only a woman’s reason. It is Shakespeare slightly altered: hate him so, because I unto him so. And I hope with allImy heart. Clarissa will never marry him): _ Then she blushes again at her open- ness. and gives him her hand. and bids him good-by, and presently he goes on his wa ’ once more to Gowran. I On the balcony thcrcstands Clarissa, the solemn Bill close beside her. She is leaning on the parapet. With her pretty white hands crossed and hangâ€" ing loosely ovcrI it. As she sees him coming. With a little touch of coquetry, common to most women. she draws her broad-brimmed but from her head. and letting it fall upon the balcony. lets the uncertain sunlight touch warmly her fair brown hair and tender exquis- ite face. I I Bill. sniffing, lifts himself. and, see- ing Sir James. shakes his shaggy Sides. and, with his heavy head still drooping. and his most hangdog expressmii care- fully put on. goes cautiously down the stone steps to greet him. Having been potted. and made much of. and having shown a scorniul Idis- regard for all such friendly attentions. he trots behind Sir James at the slow l’unc-i-al pace he usually affects, until Clarissa is reached. . I “llctter than my ordinary luck to find you here." says Sir James. who is in high good humor. "Generally you are miles away when I get. to Gowran. And ,â€"-forgive meâ€"how exceedingly charm- inir mu are looking this morning!" Miss Peyton is clearly not above v‘r-iiW. SheI lnuglis,â€"n deliCiousI rippl- ing little laugh.-â€"and colors family. "A compliman frotii you!".~'lic says. "No wonder I blush. Am I really lovelv, Jim. or only commonly pretty! I should hate to be commonly pretty." She lifts her brows disdainfullyI. "You needn't hate yourself." says Scropc. calmly. "Lovely IS the word for Von." ' “l'tu rather glad." says Miss Peyton. with ll. sigh of relief. "If only for-â€" Horace's sake 1” Sir James pitches his cigar over the. balcony, and frowns. Always Horace! Can she not forget hiimfor even inmncnt i “What brought you?" asks she. pres: cntlv. I "\\'hat a gracious S|l‘t‘(‘hi"â€"\\'llil a rather short laugh. "To see you. I fancy. By the bye. 1 met Mrs. llrzins~ combo on my on v here. She didn't look particularly inppy." "No." Clarissa's eyes grow “After all. that marriage was a rible mistake. and I satisfactory one. Do you kInow." in a half-frightened tone. “f begin to think they hate each other i” I "They don't seem to liii it off 5nd. ier- vc ry well. certainly.“ says Sir James. nioodi- ly. “But I believe there is something: more on llranscomlw‘s mind than his domestic worries : I am afraid he is citing into trouble over the farm. and lint. and nothing hits a man like want of money. - 'l‘hat Sawyer is a very slip- ‘ ry fellow. in mv opinion: and of late )orim has neglected everything and tiikxin no interest in his land. and. in; fact. lets everything go without ques- tion." "I have no patience with Georgie'V lays Clarissa. iIndigiiImtly. I's‘he is positively breaking his heart." one . it seemed such it? “She is unhappy. poor little thing" “3'8 Scrope. who cannot find it in is heart to condemn the woman who has ijust condemned Horace BraInscombe. “It is her U\\ll fault if she is.I I know aft-w people so lovable as Dorian. And .now to think he has another trouble ; makes me wretched. I do hope you are rwrong about Sawver.” q l “1 don't think I am," says ScrppeI: E and time leSllfltfl his doubt of Dorian s l steward. SartorIS. Tuesday. four o'clock. . "Dear Scrope.â€"â€" I I 3 Come up to me at Ionce. if possible. ‘Everything here is in a. deplorable state. You have heard. of course, that lSawyer bolted last mght; but perhaps Iyou have not. heard that he has left 2 things in a. ruinous state. I must see ’you with as little delay as you can i manage. Come straight to the library. Iwhere you will find me alone. ‘ hours ever 3 15.13." Sir J {111163, who is sitting in his ststerI's room, starts to his feet on reading this letter. . I I "Patience, I must go at once to SaIr- toris." he says, looking pale and dis tremd. “To see that mad boy 2" “To see Dorian Bra-nscombIe." , "That is quite the same thing. You don’t call him sane. donoui To marry that chit of a girl Without a grain of common sense in her Silly head, Just because her eyes were blue and. her hair yellow, forsooth. AIud I then to go and get. mixed up with that Annersley affairâ€"â€"â€"” I “M dear Patience.”I “\\ ell, why not? Vi hy should I not. talk? One must. use one’s tongue. If one isn't a. dummy. And then there is that man Sawyer. he could get no one out of the whole country but a creature whoâ€"â€"" I “Hush!” says Sir James. hastily and unwise-ly. “Better Ibe Silent on that subject." Involuntarily he Ilays his hand upon the letter just received.I “Ha!” says Miss Scrape, triumphant- ly. with astonishingosharpness. I was right, was I? that pitiful being has been exposed to the light of day. has he? 1 always said how it would be: I knew it lâ€"ever since last spring. when I sent to him for some cucumber- plants. and he sent me instead (With willful intent to insult me) t.Iwo Vile gourds. I always knew how it would end." “Well, and how has it ended i" says Sir James, with a. weak effort to re- trieve his position. putting on a. small air of defiance. _ II "Don't think to deceive me, says Miss Scrope. in a. terrible tone; where- upon Sir James flies the_ apartment. feeling in his heart that in a war of words Miss Scrope's match is yet to be found. I Enterin the library at ISarto‘ris, he finds Dorian there, alone. indeed, and comfortless. and sore at heart. I It is a dark dull day. Ilhe flI‘Sil brcath of winter is in the air. rIhe clouds are thick and sullen, and are lying low. as if they would Willing-1y come down to sit upon the earth and and there rest themselves-50 weary they seem. and so full of heavlneSS.I Above them a wintry sun is trying vainly to recover its ill temper. Every now and then a. small brIown bird: fly- ing hurriedly past the windows, is alâ€" - most; blown against them by the strong and an r blast. I Withiinya fire is burning, and the curtains are half drawn across the Win- 'dows and the glass door. that leads, by steps. down into the garden. No lamps are lit. and the light is somber and severe. I “You have come.” says IDorian, ad- vancing eagerly to meet him.I ' I knew I could depend upon you, but it is more than ood of you to be here so soon. I -have en mopiug a. good deal. I am afraid, and forgot all about the. lamps. Shall I ring for some one now to light them 2" I I II "No; this light is what I prefer. says Scrope. laying- his hand upon his arm. “Stir up the ire. if you like."I "Even that 1 had not given one thought to." says Branscotnbc, drearily. Sitting here all alone, lgaIve myself up a prey to cVil thoughts. II The word "alone" touched Ibir James Sinexpressibly. Where was his Wife all theytime. that. she never came to com- fort and support, him in his hour of need? II "Is everything as bad as youIsay? he saks, presently, in a subdued tone. “Quite as bad; neither worse nor better. There are no gradations about. intter ruin. You heard about Sawyer. of course! ‘ Harden has been With me all last night and toâ€"day._and between us we have been able to make out that the has muddled away altuostIall the iproperty,â€"whicli. you know. is small. As vet we hardly know how we stand. ’ But: there is one claim of fifteen thous- and pounds that must be paid Without l delay. and l have not one penny to meet lit, so am literally driven to the wall. "You speak as ifâ€"-â€"" I I “No. 1 am speaking quite rationally. I know what you would say; but if I was starving I would not Iaccepppne shilling from LIord SziIrtoris. lhat would be impossible. 101i can under- stand why, Without my going into that infamous scandal. I suppose I IcanItell Sartoris, and pay niyâ€"Iâ€"ihiit is. Saw- ver'sâ€"debts; but that. Will leave me a beggar." Then, in a low tune, "I should ;h:irdly care, but for her. Ilia! is al- megsl more than loan hear." "You say this debt of fifteen thousand pounds is the one that, presses hardest? "Yes. But for that, i might, by go- ing in for strict economy. managc to retrieve my present position in :1. year or two." I 'v “I wish you would explain morc fully." says Sir James; whereupon Dor- .ian enters into an elaborate explanaâ€" ; tion that leaves all things clear. I "it seems absurd." says Scrape. im- the heir to an gcarldoui and unlimited wealth. should that made so uncomfortable for ihc sake of a piillrv fifteen thousand poundsf: "I hardly think my wealth unhniit- ed," s:in Brnnsconibe; "there is a good deal of property not entailed, and z the ready money is at my uncle’s own disinsal. You know. perhaps. that he ‘ has altered his will in favor of Horace, â€"-hns. in fact. left. him everything that it is pbssible to leave." I "This is all new to me." says Sir James. indigiiantly. "If it is true. it is the most iniquitous thing I ever . heard in my life." "It is iruc.” .xiys Bratiscombe, slou- lv. ":\llv>g--lhcr. in many ways, I have ,lycen a good deal wrung-M; and [hfl fpatiemly. "that you. money part of it has not hurt me the most." “If seven thousand pounds would be of any use to you." says C‘rope. gently. delicately. “l have it lying idle. it will. indeed. be a great convenience if you will take it at. a re:isonableâ€"â€"” “That is rather unkind of you." says Dorian, interrupting him hastily. “Don't say another word on the subâ€" ject. I shall sink or swim without aid from my friends.â€"aid. 1 mean. of that sort. In other ways you can help me. Harden will. of course. see to the estate : but there are other, more private mat- ters. that I would intrust to you alone. Am I asking too much ?" "Don't be unkind in your own turn." says Scrape, with tears in his eyes. "Thank you.” says Dorian. simply. His heart seems quite broken. "\\'hat of your wife 1" asks Sir James. with some hesitation. “ Does she know i" “I think not. \V’hy should she be troubled before her time? It will come fast enough. She made a bad match. after all. poor childl But there is one thing I must tell you..a.nd it is the small drop of comfort in my cup. About a month ago, Lord Sarâ€" toris settled u 11 her twenty thous- and pounds, an that will keep her at least free from carc. \Vhen I am gone, I want. you to see her, and let me know, from time to time. that she is happy and well cared for." . _“But will she consent to this separa~ tion from you. that may last for years?" "Consent!" says Dorian. bitterly. "That is not. the word. She will be glad. indeed. at this chance that has arisen to put space between us. I be- lieve from my heart. thatâ€""7 “IW'lIiat. is it you believe i" says a plaintive voice,_ breaking in upon Dor- ian's speech with, curious energy. The door leading into the garden is wide open; and now the curtain is thrust astde, and a fragile figure. gowned in some black filmy stuff, stands before them. Both men start as she advances in the uncertain light. Her face is deadly pale; her eyes are large. and almost black, as she. turns them ques- tioninglyIupon SirI James ,Scrope. It is imposmble for either man to know what she may. or may not. have heard. “I was in the garden." she says, in an agitated tone. “and I heard voices; and something about money; and Dor- ian's gomg away; andâ€"â€"" (she puts her hand up to her throat) "and about ruin. I could not understand; but. you Will tell me. You must." "Tell her, Dorian.” says Sir James. But Dorian looks doggedly away from her, through the open window, into the darkening garden beyond. “Tell me, Dorian." she says. nervous- ly. Igomg up to him, and. laying a small white trembling hand upon his arm. “There is no reason why you should be distressed," says BranScombe, very coldly, lifting her hand from his arm, as though her very touch is displeasing to him. “You are quite safe. Sawyer's mismanagement of the. estate has brought me to the verge of ruin; but. Lord Sartoris has taken care that you will not suffer." She is trembling violently. "And on?" she says. 'I‘l shal go abroad until things look brighter." Then he turns to her for the first. time, and, taking her hands, presses them passionately. “1 can hardly expect forgiveness from you." he says: “you had. at least. a right. to expect position. when you made 'our unhappy marriage, and now you ave nothing." i think she hardly hears his cruel speech. Her thoughts still cling to the word that has gone before. II"Abroa.d f" she says, with quivering ips. "Only for a. time,"’ says Sir James. taking pity upon her eVident distress. “Does he owe a. great deal t" asks she, feverishly. “Is it a very large sum f Tell me how much it Scrope, who is feeling very sorry for her. explains matters. while Dorian maintains a determined silence. "Fifteen thousand pounds, if procur- ed at once, would tide him over his dif- ficulties.“ says Sir James, who does her justice to divine her thoughts cor- rectly. "Time all he requires." “1 have twenty thousand pounds." says Georgie, eagerly. "Lord Sartoris says I may do what I like willi it. Doriaii,"â€"â€"going up to him again,â€" "take itâ€"(io. no. You will lllthC inc happier than I have been for along time if you will accch it." A curious expression lights Dorian's face. It is half surprise, half contempt; yet, after all. perhaps there is some genuine gladness in ll. “1 cannot thank you sufficiently." he says, in a. low tone. “Your offer is more than kind: it is generous. But 1 011111101. accept it. it is impossible 1 should receive anything at your hands.” “Why 3" she says, her lips white. her eyes large and earnest. "‘Does that question require an ans- wer f" asks Dorian, slowly. “There was a time, even in our short married life, when I bclieved in your friendship for me, and when I would have taken anyâ€" Lhing from yumâ€"from my wife; but now I tell you again, it is impossible. You yourself have put it out of my power." He. turnsI from her coldly. and con- centraies his gaze once more upon the twilit garden. "Don t speak to me like Iliai.â€"â€"-at least, now,” says Georgie. her breath com- ing in short. quick gasps. "It hurts me so: Take this wretched money. ifâ€"if you still have any love for me." He turns deliberately away from the small pleading face. "And leave you peiiiiiless,” he says. "No, not that. Some day you can pay me back. if you wish it. All these months you have given me every thing 1 could [)i):»:ili)l_\' (ii-sire, let me now make you some small return." Unfortunately [his speech angers him (ice pl y . “We are wasting time." he says. quickly. "L'ndcrsktnd. once for all, I will receive nothing from you." "James," says Mrs. Bratiswmbe. lin- pulsively. going up to Scrope and tak- ing his hand. She is white and ner- vous, and, in her agitation. is hardly aware that, for the first time. she has called him by his Christian name. “Per- suadc him. Tell him he should accept this money. Dear James. speak for me: i am nothing to him." l-‘or the second time Branscombe turns and looks at her long and earnestly. “I must say I think your wife quite right," says Scrape. energetically. "She wants you to take this money, your not taking it distresses her very much. and you have no right in the world to marry a woman and then make her unhappy. ' This is faintly quixotic. considering all lill‘ circumstances. but nobody say» any- thing. "You ought to save Sat-torts from tho- hammer no matter at what priceâ€"pride or anything else. it to lift the roof from off her head for a silly prejudice? \\ hcn he has finished this speech. Sir a.ny pertinent . l l l t l comac. James feels that. he has been iinpardon- (To Be Continued.) ITEMS OF INTEREST. Cuba has :i coast line of 2.200 miles, and 200 ports. Four miles of a spider's thread would weigh only one gratin. An ostrich can simultaneously see ob- jects before and behind him. The shelves in the IBriiish Museum contain thirty~nine miles of books. One of the wine vaults of the Lon- don Dock's has an area of seventeen aches. Artificial musk. aIclose imitation of :28 genuine article, 18 made from coal r. Henry Seebohm, the naturalist, has bequeathed 17.000 stuffed birds to the British Museum. Only twenty-four white elephants have been captured since the begin- ning of the Christian era. Pianoâ€"players in Munich, are com- pelIed to have their windows closed while playing on that instrument. In the Bay of Fundy the tide rises a. foot every fiye minutes. The outer sonIiIetimw attains a height of seventy ee . Some gullible people in Maryville.l\Io., believe that the grease from a. yellow dog. if rubbed on the. chest, is a cure for consumption. Most of the shoes worn in Japan are made of straw or Wood. 1n the entire country there is but one factory where leather shoes are made. On the railroads in Australia a thirdâ€" class passenger travels for one-third of a. cent a mile; a Inst-class passenger pays about a cent a mile. Cats are scarce in the little town of Valley, \Vashingion. The coyotes come boldly into town at night. and carry off all the cats they see. prowling around. Joel Liunan. of Burionville, Ky.. is a big man. His height is 6 feet 4 inches. and his weight is 354 pounds. He has a. son and a. daughter, each of whom is as tall as himself. The streets of Calcutta. are sprinkled by water-carriers. each of whom carries strapped to his back a leather recep- tacle, capable of containing about eight: gablons. His pay amounts to six cents a. ay. For forty years Dawson Oldham has been a. member of the Methodist Church at \Vhite Hall, Ky.. and during all that time has never missed a sermon. His age is 78, and he has never tasted in- toxicants or used tobacco. A citizen of Gorham. Me... has had a serious disagreement with his wife. It was caused by an absent-minded blun- der. He entered his house with a can of milk in one hand and a roll of greenbacks in the other. and he pourâ€" ed the milk in the bureau drawer. \Vhile sawing the trunk of a chest- nut tree which they had just felled, Henry Cooper and James L. Ackcrman. of Saddle River. N. J.. found in the centre of the trunk about. a pint. of sweet and juicy chestnuts. They must have been in the tree at least fifty years. Two toughs were extremely rude to a widow in N iobrara. Nebi, and as they would not leave her house, she lanced one of them with a pltchfork and scald- ed the other. They then left in a hurry wishing they had taken MrAVilâ€" lcr's advice to ” beware of the vidders." A San Francisco lady wrote to Pad- crewski. asking how much he would charge to play the piano for five min- utes at an afternoon tea. He asked $2.500â€"at the rate of $500 a minute. She offered him $1,000: but he disdain- ed to accept such a trifling sum; didn't even answer her second note. _____.â€"-____ GREAT MEN WEAR ARMOR. Sen-rail Prominent Eur-open“ Slim-smut Employ Such Snf‘cgmii‘tls. From 1885 to the time of his death. the late czar of Russia. Alexander III. never appeared outside his bedroom and study without a. fine steel suit of mail, which would protect his body, back and front, between his collar-bone and his loins. from the dagger of the assassin. Exocvpling his valet and his wife, nobody had seen his suit of mail, as it was worn between the underclotlics and uniform, but the czar’s unwillingness to go even to a cabinet council is iihout it was an open secret in all the courts of Europe. Bismarck at one Mme wore such a coal. as did also Slainbouloff and (.‘ris- pi. The Italian premier. indeed, as we have before noted, still Wears. for pro- tection from the asszissiii’s bullet. or knife, a. light shirt of mail of double thickncss over the heart. None of these then. however. resorted to such precau- tion until repeated attempts at. assassm- ation had been made. 'lrue it is that. “uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." Nicholas if. of Russia has waited for no such attempt. on his life. Ever since it: siuapnis isiiiiiix J0 siseui 'QSltl at“ Otit‘SS'L he has worn a shirt of nickel and steel, onerous as the garment must be to a man of his inferior physique and lethargic. habits. Slill stranger stories of his fear and caution have pcnctraled the walls of the impcrial palace and gained credence among the people of his capital. Although no daggers has been laid on his pillow to unnerve him. and no warning of death has been put under his dinner plate to plague him, the czar never visits his dinner table or bed without the company of a trusted attendant. At every door of the din- ing-roam and bed-chamber stands a Cossack ruard day and night. and frotu every dis i that is served at the imperial table a special watcher in the court kitchen must eat a mouthful beforoit is served. to prevmii any '-chance of poisoning. (REVIVAL IN SHIPBUILDING. The Clyde trade shows a wonderful expansion. Orders for 40,000 tom of new shipping were placed there in April. Steel vessels are especially in demand. The greatest of the Japanese shipping cotnpani:-s. the -.\'ippoii \iiwn kaisha. intuit-la to start a line of hiifidllli‘l‘d Lo Europa. It has orelero-l sit \‘rsssâ€"lslllfll. fin" to l-.- built in Belfast MN on the (‘lydtu 'l‘lic- ('tnllf‘ll"7< P?!“ for isn‘t a Liir thing. you know. Bramâ€" (unipiflli-nfl by the end of the year. l “HEALTH. A\\\\\\\\ . . » .\‘ -~W . PLASTERS. Plasters. according to text-looks on medicine, are solid compounds intended for external appliaiion. adhesive at the temperature of the body. aud..of such consistency as to. Nader the aid of heat necessary in spreading them. Most plastem have as their basis a compound of olive-oil and lead. while others owe their consistency and adhcs- ivcncss to resins or a mixture of those with wax and fats. Plasiei's arc mainly employed on sound. skin as counter-irritants to draw in- flammation to the surface. or open cuts. etc.. to draw the edges of the wound to- gethcr. Rarely. if ever. are plasters used at present upon ulcerated surfaces. since they have been found to interfere with the prooess of healing. All medicated plasiers which are to exert a loool effect should be made por- ous. to prevent excessive irritation by gléecking the natural prcspiraiion of the ‘ in. AlthOugh about seventeen kinds of: plaster are listed in medicine. only a few of them are in extensive use. and these are usually kcpi prepared by the druggislz. Probably the kind which is most often resorted to is the belladonna plast~ er In many cases of muscular pain and weakness, especially in that form of rheumatism or neuralgia which attacks the. lions, a plaster made of beL ladonna, either with or without. thc ad‘ dition of cayenne pcpper, is of decided benefit. Plasters of gum :imuioiiiiic were at: one time much in usc as a remedy for swollent glands and ciilargcd joints. The action of the drug is slignily stimulat- ing. Capsicum. or cayenne pepper. plasters are of great. value as counterâ€"irritants. as the action of the drug is prolonged. and yet. sufficiently mild to ensure only a. healthy result. - Of the other plasters in common use. we may mention those made of opium and tar. For blistering, soap plaster. as it is called. will be found safe. The ear con's plaster, used to draw together l e. edges of wounds, is made up with load which has slightly antisâ€" eptic properties. It is needless to add that a correct recognition of the nature of the trouble must be arrived at. before the propel form of plaster can be applied. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT. Dr. L‘oolsoft says that this is the se- cret of avoiding colds. The man or woman who comes out of an over-healed room. hsymcially late at might, and breathes through the mouth, will either catch a bad cold or irritate the lungs sufficiently to cause annoyance and un- pleasantness. If people would just keep their mouths shut and brcalhc. through thui'lt' noses. this difficulty and danger would be aVOidcd. Chills are often the result of people talking freer while out of doors Ijust‘. after leaving a room full of hot air. and theatre-goers who dis- cuss and laugh over the play on their way home are inViting illness. It, is. it: fact. during youth that the greater number of mankind contract habils or inflammation which make thcir whole life a tissue of disorders. __â€" DANGERs IN FUNERALS. Burials in the. winter are a prolific source of disease. To ride several miles in a. cold carriage during incle- nienl weather; to stand. perhaps bare- headcd. beside an open grave under the influence of dcpi‘essing emotions. is cer- tainly not conducive to hmalth. It. is a lovuig sentiment which leads us to fIOIlow the. mortal remains of a dead il‘lZ’Illi’i to its last. resting plzicc. Bun. in- valids and Idelmale peoplv should take a more practical View ()1 the subject, cs- [Loinhy when their own health may I» in SL‘I‘lUlLS dangcr. CL’llE lv‘OR FA'l‘lGUlu'. The bust cure for fatigue, says Prof. Slipso. is a hot bath Lzlkvll as hm. as it. can be borne. If onc comes in Lired.’ disrobe quickly._ju.nip iiiloa hot bath for a very few minutes, rub down, and get; into bed for twenty iiiiiiiilo-:. By this simple means one wall in so i'cslcil that a whole evening's dissipitiozi 1i ill SP-Irtw- ly be noticed. In many cases of dyn- [)L‘Dnl'd gi'cntI I‘l-ilé'f L~l found by u very hot bath qurckly talinn. .â€"~.â€". CIDER AS A lll-ZMICDY. Two ls‘rcnch XII])'SI."i'illn, lli's. C-zii'riun and Canlrii claim that in ccrl'iin forms of dyspepsia, whcrc tho- procsss of di- gestion is too liiii‘riwl, that ci-la-r is n valuable rein-«ly. For lb.» gouty it in especially rcz-oiiiinIo-n-lch as a corn-Nico of the uric acid dlulfl-‘SIS. (ion! is hi-lrl responsible for so L1 run. .‘I llllfllht'f‘ of ail- ments nrm'iidziys lil'lL cirlo-r should be shown much favor. ‘ A Nl-JlV HEAJLHYIH'I REMEDY. A pri-miii. nl London pl:y~i"i:ut lld< visas hair-cutting on ill" llimry that the tube which is cunmint-d in each single hair is severed in tho- pi‘o'cn. and the brain "bleeds," :is lll ‘ barb'i‘s saydhcrn- by opcniiig a mf-ly valve for the mn- gvstcd cranium. ....a-â€"....... .-.. AN 1N5?!"llM()l'N'l‘.\lll.l~I OllJlif’TiUN Can't. l rent you this house next to the church .‘I I I No; my Wife lilo-- in come in late. ins Ni-l\'l-Ilt-f'.\ll.l.\'li 'J'ES’I'. Old chap, l’i'e ly-cn duck stunting. don't you. know. I Duck ‘shmiing? \\ by, you dnn'l know a wow tilll’k ntmi a wild on”. Oh. yes. l doâ€"ilw “‘lM ones not aw oy 'l‘\\'l) “1511155. Misto-r ~0li. «io'lt'. i will i could get hold of wine go ll lii‘suiis like tnoilwr nswl to make for pic! I 51losll~~a1llli l “'l‘iil f i‘uum get mail 1}...“- gimd clothes like fallow usi'd w “g, for L13.