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‘ THE VICAR’S GOVERNESS ‘. my "She will have a home with . uncle." any: anscomhc, unmoved-"a far happier and more congenial; home: than this has ever been." A faint sneer ; disfigures his handsome mouth for a mom-at. Then his mood changes, and he turns almost fiercely upon Georgie. "Why will you fight against. our own g-uol fortune?" he says. ““ee how its favoring you. You will get rid of me for yearn, perhapsâ€"l hopeâ€"forever, and you will be comfortable with him. "No, Ishall not," Siys .‘lrs. Bruns- combe; a brilliant crimson has grown upon her pale cheeks. her eyes are bright and full of anger, she stands back from him and looks at him with passionate reproach and determination in hcl‘ gaze. “You? think 1 will consent to live calmly here while you are an exile from your home! in so much you wrong me. When you leave Sartoris, 1 leave it too,â€"to be a governess once more." "I forbid you to do tlutt," says Brunsâ€" combe. “I. am your husband, and, as such, the law allows me some power over you. But this is only an idle threat," .he :says, contemptuously. "When I remember how you consented to marry even me to such a Life of drudgery, I cannot believe you will willingly return LO it again". “Nevertheless I shall,” says Georgie, slowly. “You abandon me; why, then, should you have power to control my lotions! And I. will not live at Hythc-, and i will not. liVe at all in Bulilngham unless I live here." “Don't be obstinate, Dorian.“ saysSir James, imploringly. “Give in to her: it will be more manly. Don't you see she has conceived. an affection for the place by this time and can't bear to see it pass into strange hands: in the name of common sense, accept this chance of rescue, and put an end to a most unâ€" happy business.” . Dorian leans his arm upon the mantel- picoe, and his head upon his arms. Shall be, or shall he not, consent to this plan? Is he really behaving, as‘ Scrope had just. said, in an unmauly! manner! I A lurid flame from the fire lights up the room, and falls warmly upon Geor- gia's anxious and clasped hands and somber clingin'gown, upon Dorian's lzowed head and motionless figure, and Upon Slr"James standing tall and sil- "' Mthin the shadow that covers the; o corner where he All is sad, and! drear, and almost tragic! Georgie .with both hands pressed. against her bosom, waits breathlessly tor Dorian's answer. At last .it comes. Lifting his head, he says. In a dull tone that is more depressing than loud- cr grief,â€" H . “1 consent. But 1 cannot live here just yet. 1 shall go away for a time. I. beg you both to understand that I do this thing against my wtll for my wife's sake,â€"-not for my own. Death; itself could not be more bitter to moi than life has been of late." For the! last time he turns and looks at Georgie. ‘ "You know who has embittered it.” he says. And. then, “Go: 1 Wish to bel alone I" _ Scropc, taking 1 V band in his, leads her from the__room., When outside, she presses her tuigersl on his in a grateful fashion. and,wh1sp- I ering something to him in a broken! volcu,â€"which he fails to hear.-â€"she goes ; heavily up the staircase to her own. room. When inside, she closes the door.and looks it, and, going as it with a purpose to a drawer in a cabinet. draws from it a velvet frmne. 0pcuu1g it, she gazes long and earnestly upon the face it contains: it is Dorian's. h I It is a. charming, lovable face, With its smiling lips and its large blue honest eyes. Distrustfully she gazes at II, as; if seeking to discover some trace of du- } plicity in the clear open features. Then slowly she takes the photograph from the frame. and with a. scissors cuts out the head. and lifting the glam [roll]: a. dull gold locket upon the tablonear| her. carefully places the picture in m: “'he'n her task is finished. she looks at it once again. and thin) laughs softly , to herself.â€"a snccring,.unlovable laugh, full of self-contempt. Her whole ex- pression is unforgiving. yet suggestive of dec regret. Somehow. at this mo-. ment is last. words cime back to her! and strike coldly on her heart: "I: wish to be alone!" l “Alone!” Ilow sadly the word liahdl fallen from his lips! How stern his face had been, how broken. and miser- able his voice! Some terrible grief was. tearing at his heart, and there was no] one to comfort. or love him. orâ€" I She gets up from her chair. andl Ces the room impatiently, as though, action had ceased to be possible to her. 1 in intense craving to see him again, fills. her soul. Slu- must go to him. if- only to know what he has been doing! since last she. lefl him. Acting on im-: puLsc, she goes quickly dou‘n the stairsl and across the hall to the library. andi enters with a beating heart. : All is dark and th'cary enough to chill any expectant mind. The fire. though warm. and glowing still. hasl burned to a dull red. and an bright; flames flash up to illumine the gloom.E Blinded by the sudden change from} light to mimosa. she oes forward} nervously until she reao es the hearth; rug: then she discovers that Dorian is no longer there. ~s. Branscombe's cold : CHAPTER XXXII. v “Shake hands forever. cancel all our vows; Apd when we meet at any time again. Be It not seen in eitherof out brown That we one jot of fonner love re- lam-DI . : Dayton. Not until M38. BWlx‘ has dia- miseed her mad for the night does she (listva that. the plain gold locket in which she had placed cam :o explain even to herself) hung it naund h‘r neck; and now, where l5 ' .7 ~13. Alter carefully searching 'ner memoerr for a few moments, she remember: that useless visit to the libmry l‘r tore runner, and tells herself she musll havefiropped ‘lf. then. She will go and find it. Slipping into a. pale blue dram- IDS-gown. that sex-Veg to make softer and more adorable her tender face, and golden hair, she thrusts her feet into slippers of the same hue, and runs down-stairs for the third time toâ€"day. to the_libra.ry. Openln the door, the brilliant light of many _ mp8 meet her. and, standing by the fire. 18 her husband, 1e and hagiard, With the missing ocket in his. and. He has opened it, and is gazmg at his own face with a. strange expression. “Is this yours!” he asks, as she comes pt . to hLm. "Did you come to look for l. ' '. “Yesflf She holds out her hand to receive it from him, but he shows some hesttatton about giving it. ‘ "‘let me advise ton to take this out of it.” he says, 90 (115*, pointing to his plctum. “Its bemg here must render the locket valueless. \Vhat induced you to give it such a. place?" It was one of my many mistakes," returns she. calmly. making a. mover: mentas though to leave him: "and you are right. The locket is, I think, disg- tasteful to me. I don't want it any more; you can keep it." . “I‘don't want it, either," returns he. hastily; and then. with a gesture full of passion, he flings it delilsmtely in:â€" to the .very heart of the glowing fire. There it melts and grows black. and presently smks, with a crimson coal. uti- terly out of sight. "The best place for it," says he. biti- terly.: “I Wish I could as easily .‘be obliterated and forgotten." Is it forgotten? She says nothing, makes no effort to save the fated case that holds his features, but, with hands tightly clinched, watches its ruin. Her eyes are full _of tears. but she feels be- numbed. spiritless, without power to shed them. " Once more she makes a. movement to leave him. _ "Stay." he says, gently; “I have a few things to say to you, that may as well be got over now. Come nearer to the fire; you must be cold." I She comes nearer. and. standing on the hearth rug. waits for him to speak. As she does so. a sharp cough, rising to her throat, distresses her suffici- ently to bring some quick color into her white cheeks. Though in itself of lllllf‘ importance. this cough has now annoyed her for at: least a. fortnight. and shakes her slight frame with its vehegncnce. "lour cough is worse [LI-night," he isays. turning to regard her more close- y. "No. not worse." "IVhy do you walk about the house so insufficiently clothed?" asks he. angrily. glancing at her light dressing.- gown with great disfavor. "One would think you were seeking ill health. Here, put this round you." He tries to lace upon her shoulders the cashmere 5 ml she had worn when coming in from the garden in the earlier part of the even- ing. But she shrinks from him. "No, no," she says, petulantly; am warm enough; that thing. It black,-â€"rthe color of Death!" » Her words smite cold upon his heart. A terrible fear gains mastery over him. 5 fingerless white gloves to bed. \Vhat can it have to do With [ace Lacks color, exercise. Death! one so fair. so young, yet, alas! so frail! “You will go somewhere for change of air?" he says, entreatingly, going up to her and laying his hand upon her shoulder. “It is of this. partly, Iwish to speak to you. You will find this house lonely and uncornfortablo (though doubtless pleasanter) when I am gone. Let me write to my aunt, Lady Monckton. She Will be very glad to have you for a time." "No: I shall stay here. you going?" “I hardly know, all." “Flow long will you be away?" either? There is nothing to bringfime “How can I answer that question- home." "Ilow soon do you go? I-Ier voice_all through is utterly Without expressron.‘ or emotion of any kind. “lixlnicdiatcly'.” he answers curtly. “Are you in such a hurry to be rid of mel Be. satisfied, then: I start morrow." Then. after an unbroken pause, in which even her breathing can]- not be heard. he says, in a curious voice. "I suppo casion for lilo to write to you while I am away?" She does not answer directlv. She would have given half her life to be \Vhere are able to say. freely, “\Vrite to me, Dor- ian. if only a bare line, now and then, to tell me you are alive;" but pride forbids her. “None. whatever." she says. coldly; after her struggle with her inner self. “I dare say 1 shall hear all Icare to hear from Clarissa or Sir James." There is a long silence. eyes are fixed dreamin upon the spark:- ling coals. \\'hat a child she gown. with her yellow hair falling in thick masses over her shoulders. So white. so fair. so cruelly cold! Has she no heart, that she can stand in that calm, thoughtful attitude, while his heart is slowly breaking? She has destroyed all his happy life. this “amber witch," with her loveliness. and her pure. girlish face, and her bit,- ter indifference; and yet his love for her at this moment is stronger per; haps. than it has ever been. ‘ Somethin at this moment, overmast~ e18 him. 3 oving a. step nearer to her. he suddenly catches her in his arms. and. holding her ch53?” to his heart. phases kisses (unforbidden) upon her ips and cheek and brow. In another instant she has recovered herself, and. placing her hands against. his chest. frees_herself. by a quick gesture. from his embrace. "Was that how you used to kiss her?" she says. in a choked vmce. her face the color of death: "Let me go; your touch is contamination." Almost before the last word had pass- ed her lips. he releases her. and. stand- ing back. confronts her with a face as livid as her own. . In the one hurried glance she casts at him. she knows that all indeed. over between them now: never again Dorian's picture. will he sue to her for love or fnz-nd- 13 missing. She had why. she.- hsnlly ship. She would have spoken again.-- and I do not likega, lime. l l l n l I t i and I do at care at,.face steaming may be tried. n lmanywhose purse does not p l l aheavy Turkish towel. would. perhaps. have said something to palliate the harshness of her last words. â€"but by 25 gm are he forbids her. He points to the door. "Leave the mom,"he says. in a. stern commanding tone: and. utterly subdin- 0:1 and silenced by his manner, she turns and leaves in . (To be. Continued.) DIVORCE IN TURKEY. Divorce in Turkey is obtained with a facility which would surprise even our. American cousins. As easily as Abra- ham cast forth Hagar. the bond-woman and her childso also can the Turk open the door of his harem and send out in- to the world the woman who no longer pleases him. He has but to give her back her dower and personal effects. In the upper classes, however, certain legal formalities are gone through,and, indeed, as the lady is usually protected by her parents. divorce is, comparative- ly spehking. rare. I know, instances. however, in Constantinople of ladies in the highest official circles who are not very far advanced in years, who have been divorced twice, thrice, and even ten times. Among the lower orders divorce may be described as a farce. Many girls who are not yet twent years of age have been divorced an remarried a. dozen times. _ The surprises of divorce are among the most amusing features of Turkish social life. A very great_ personage. second only to the Sultan _1n rank, un- less, indeed. it be the Sheik Ul Islam, married some few years ago, when his position was very_ inferior to what it is at resent, a highly educated lady, of goo connection and fortune. but,ac- cording to His Excellency's versron of the story, of ungovernable temper. Within the year they were divorced and remarried. The lady soon found her new husband disagreeable, and was once more divorced. It must be re- membered that if a Turk can divorce his wife, she can only divorcednm at his pleasure. by making herself as un- pleasant to him as possible. In former times he tied her up in‘ a. sack and had her dropped into the Bosphorusâ€"to-day he divorces her. To return to the lady in question. ' The next time she was heard'of by her friends was as a teacher _in the Mahometan High School for girls, at Scutari. A few years back she was selected as governess for the children of the Khethva, and is now Her High- ness‘s private secretary, in which qual- ity she accompanied her Imperial misâ€" tress to Constantinople last year and actually found herself. seated at astate banquet at Yildiz Kiosk next to the third wife of her first husband. who quietly asked her who she was. . 'lab- leaul The ease with which a divorce can be obtained in Turkey leads to many abuses and creates a state of affairs not unlike our prostitution. â€"-â€"â€"â€"-â€"â€"<>â€"â€"â€"â€" TOILET HINTS. To sleep in a. poorly-ventilated room is to invite headache and depression. W'armth during sleep should be obtain- ed from blankets, not from closed wm- dows. The window should be open about three inches at the top and an inch or two at the bottom. If the hair is thinor lacking in lustre, "1 brush it twice a. day for five minutes at If the eyebrows and eyelashes are scanty, rub them at night with vas- eline. 1f the hands chap easily, wash cold cream and wear a pair ofIlooia. I I. e If adain tub bath is enervating.try a. daily sponge bath and a tri-weekly, tub. The “tubbings” should be taken at night in water warm or hot, accord- ing to the tastes of the bather. 'lhe sponge both; which should_be taken in the morning, should be either cold or lukewarm, and should be followed ‘by a brisk rubbing down wrth a. Turkish towel. After diet and exercise have paved the way for other treatment a weekly The wo- to go to the professional beautifiers should an a bowl with boiling water.l Over this she should hold her face, into ‘which a cold cream has been rubbed for :ten minutes or so, covering'her head and shoulders and the bowl with a After drying the 'face she should rub more cold cream so there will be no oc.-‘ into it, and she should not venture out toâ€" 1 into the air for at least three hours. ermit her I I OUNG FOLKS. \A\ v»\\" JOHN THROCKTOX’S GUARDIAN. “Please sir. lend me a quarter." It was a small. tugged boy that rc~ pcated the request. addressing a num- ber of passing mrn «on-1‘ winter night by the light of the street lamps. Some of the men shook their heads; others lpascd on without. noticing the appeal. Finally two men who were walkin1 to- gether stopped. 3' " “'hy don’t you ask me to give you a. quarter '1" one of the men question- ed the boy. - " Because I'm goin’ to give it back to you," was the prompt answer. "I ain’t aâ€"beg‘gin'.” The man who had asked the ques- {ion laughed not altogether pleasant- y. “Ho, ho, here is refinement," he said wtih ironical emphasis to his friend. To the boy he continued: ' "Look here, little man, I lend mon- ey only on good security. ity can you give me f" "S’curityi" repeated the boy help- lessly. Then two eager eyes bright- ened as the meanng of the word was suggested. and he added: " I can't give noneâ€"only my word and my willin'ness to work." The man laughed a great haw. haw. “Good! You've earned your money, litâ€" tle Ready \Vits," he said. as he tossed a. quarter to the boy and started up the street with his friend. "Please sir. you ain't told me your name yet. nor where you live," pursued the boy. “Not done with you yet ?" said the man sharply. as he stopped again. "Are you getting up a directory in the inâ€" tercst of beggars. boy 9" " No, sir," replied the. little fellow ser- iously; “ it's in the interest of you.” Both men laughed. “\Vell, my name is John Throckton‘. and I live at No. 16 Fairview avenue," said the giver of the quarter. Mr. John Throckion's house was large and handsome, and full of fine furni- ture and works of art. He was very rich, but by no means generous with his money. He had given in this in- stance merely out of caprice. The boy's manner of asking had amused him. Sel- dom drd_he give so much as a quarter for charity. Meanwhile little Bernard ‘ \l ells invested the borrowed quarter in la. loaf of bread, a little piece of meat. and a little paper of tea. and carried ithe provistons home. His home was a Single room in a poor tenement house. Hts father was dead, and his mother made a llvmgf by sewing on shirts. This week, however,. she had been too 1“. to work, and her money was all spent. \V hat secur- son came. in. I Bernard told his story. “ \Ve must return the moncv as soon as pOSsible,” said the mother. ‘ But‘Mrs. \Vells was not able. to go back to her work. Bernard earned a little money now selling newspapers. but this was needed to buy food and coal. Finally Mrs. \Vells died. and a. brother of Bernard’s father, a. poor, {hardworkinfimam came forward, and loffered the tlittle boy a home. Bernard worked for lllS uncle, who kept a. little lstore. But the boy was not given any ;money. Once Bernard asked for 3.. - quarter that he might pay Mr. Throck- I ton._ and was laughed at by his uncle. 1 “John Throakton has too much mon- ley already." the man said. "He's one 10f the. richest men in town and one. of g the meanest. I guess I don't: want him [to get any of my quarters." | A year passed. Bernard did not for- [get lllS obligation to Mr. 'l'hrot-kton. gblany were the plans. that he made for lrcdceuliug his pledged word. ‘ One day when he was passing along a crowded street it: was his good fortune ,to find a, pair of eyeglasses that a ladv {had accidentally dropped. and the lady ircwarde-Ll him with a quart-3r. I Bernard set out immediately for N0. .16 Falrveiw avenue. “How pleased [mother will be! i hope she knows!" ,he thought to himself as he hurried ialoug “’llll a. light, springy gait. His lstcps were not lighter than his heart. .It was about five o’clock. and Mr. If one's complexion is "muddy," 5111- E Throckton had returned from hisbank- low or covered with blackheads the ‘10-! mg house, and was in his library. lie tion bottle is not the remedy whichlwas not particularly engaged, and he should be sought first. Instead, the; told the serving man to show the boy candidate for a complexion of roses and} in. ‘crcam should begin to diet. Georgie's ; His eyes am fixed on hers looks in her azure‘ . . 'tendcd on the Great laas‘ tern Railway- Hot water " I came to pay you the quarter, Mr. taken half an hour "before breakfast . Throckton," said Bernard advancing in- with a. little lemon juice in it. ts better; to the splendid room. and holding out than creams to restore the skin to{ the money. “I'm much 'bliged to you clear-mess. Graham and whole wheat. fer trustln' me. I couldn't git it fer bread. fruit, clear tea. and coffee, if tea ! you no sooner. and coffee are used, plenty of green veg-l . Mr. ’l‘hrockton gave Bernard :1 search- stables. lean meat and broiled fish forml InT 100k. " Have you not made a. mis- an admirable complexion diet. Pastry | ta 'e. my boy l” he asked. " 1 never lent and candles should be avoided. you a quart»:- to my knowledge, nor do I kIII()\‘-’ you." r H " t was on the street, sir," said Ber- LIQUlD FUEL 0N LOCOMOTIVhba nard. “one nightâ€"" , ‘ fl . . l "0, ho', yes. I do remember now! rho u»?- Of liquid fuel has been 5° 8"”: “’0”. well, well Mr. ’l‘hrockton laugh- led again as the recollection defined itâ€" (England) that a large storage plantiself more clearly. "So you. are that has been erected at Stratford. England! “290, Chill! “1}” “[115le “158mg?” , Twentyâ€"five locomotives are now fitted; 1.95. 511'. Im him. and Bernard laid with oil burners under the Holden sys'l the Silver Com on the table beside Mr. 5 tem. and twelve stationary boilers and l ThT‘X‘kmn'S 11811”- lie is loav-‘ ling her. Shall be ever see her agaxnf; three furnaces at the shops burn theg_ The man 0f“buaincss alppcared to be ” t“ . my same kind of fuel. The. oil arrives at! ln‘el‘tffimflu- Ittle fellow," Stralford in bulk. old locomotive tend-g be stud, . 1 fionfcss you have taken me ers being employed in transpaer 11.; “5' surprise. Ilt- leaned back In hrs at present. The storage tanks are t irâ€" i amichillr 3W3 ,Tt‘gfll‘tle'l lllt‘. buy narrow- teen in number. and are placed on low; 5’ While he slipped the quarter Hill) his ground not very far from the mainzlv't’myockct. )lr. lhrockton liked to in- line. The oil flows to them by gravity.l Vf‘l‘ltlgille the motives char-Imus that A peculiarity of the tanks is the reo- W‘me‘l sinnerâ€" LO hlm- Directly he re~ [angular shape. Nine of them hold Smut-d: 1 t , d the remain“, ".‘N'ow, little boy. if you don't mind filf‘gfifiéi’ e321). ’ 3» bellms me. 1 should very much like to . 1 know why you return this money. ' 3 Didn’t you understand at the time that AT A RAILWAY EATING S'IATION.';SHFJ?5 exit)“ed to 333 “- 0“ 3'0“ “ _ : al “11y 8““ your “landwmhes “0 5mm”; "I kind of thought that a-way. sir." the tram 5‘01”! for $0 3‘10"- said Bernard: but I didn’t ‘low as that a time. made any difference." “Yes, I see." said Mr. Throckton. " you wanted to feel that you were hon- :est. and it isn't a. bad thing to plume 'one's self on either. Was that it ?" I‘ “ No. sir, I don't know as 'twas," an- ‘swemd llllle Bernard. thoughtfully l bolting his questioner in the eyes. " h Qwas more .bi< a-way: If 'I hadn't brought you back your money you PROOF OF COMPATIBILITY. Do you think they will. get along nicely when they are marrie l p I am sure of it. I took care to fund out shortly after they were engaged. How? . _ I gave several \Vllh‘l [nrtles and ar- ranged that they should play as parts, would bar.- thought 1 “(ts dvt-oivin' you. nuns. They never quarrelcd once. (flu-n. 'slmsln‘ b'JflIt'lAfly else'd ask you l l ' '.' 0. Bernard. where did you get these 5 young jlml 01d things Mrs. \Vells asked when her ' m” Ilnmns- fer somethin'. mme one as was real hornet and necdin'. and you. thinkin‘ of me and the mean trick I’d plavod on you. would say 'No‘ to the othe: fellow, then I'd be 'sponsible. I'd be 'spnnsibic for somebody sufferin' I“! want of food. and I'd be 'sponsihla for makm' you mean and s'picious and on- feczm'â€"â€"s<-e f" M Mr. ’l‘irrockton did not smile now. Ills 1.;2‘. sellâ€"suisfied face flushed as ho l'“0k<‘ll.{lt the carnesI little speaker be- lol_\‘ bun. He “as perhaps more sur- rtsed now than he had ever been in his life. lie was touched. too. The idea of this crude little common street boy copsxdcrtng himsolf responsible for the donngs of John Throcktonl The man felt hlS hardncgt ebbing away. and in its place there came to him a desire to do something good and worthy with his money. And what better thing could he do, he reasoned'. than to care for the_child that had bum the means of saving him from his own selfishness? Mr. Throcklon's acquaintances were considerably amazed when they learn- I ed that the bright-faced little. boy that amxutr‘ed so often in Mr. 'l‘hroc-kton's company was an orphan which the rich man had adopted. A friend said to him one day: "I wonder you were. not (afraid to assume so great. a responsibility. Mr. Throckton. as the guardianship of s childl" ._“1\Iy little boy was my guardian first," answered Mr. Throckton with a. smile. CRIME IN THE STATES. II Increases Faster in Propornon Than the Population. The Hon. Andrew D. \Vhite quotes statistics to show that in no land is the right to live so trampled upon by a privileged class of criminals as in Am- erica, and that crime increases in pro- portion more than the population. The homicides in 1889 in the United States. numbered 3,567. In 1895 they num- bered 10,500. The executions in these years averaged, respectively. one in forty-five convictions and one in sev- enty-four convictions. lie said if the murderers for the last six years were in prison, there would be 40,000 of them. The eleventh census shows that there are but 7,351 in prison. Mr. White bit- terly denounces. the sympathy expressed for criminals, insumcmg a recent case where 3,000 people followed the body of the. murderer to the grave and $600 was spent). Ill floral‘ouerings. \\ hite attributes this increase in crime [urger to the. ‘h‘carclcss, culpable and criminal exercise olpardons" by the tiovcrnors oi. the various States. The Governor ol the State. (Tennessee). In the tour years of. office ending l892. pardoned 801 convrcts, ulu.ny_ol them murderers. .Mr. \\ lute assigns the Widespread criminal education of t'llll- dren, by means of dime novels, sensaâ€" tional newspapers, posters and melo- drnmas. as I a particular cause. for m- crcaso ill crime, as wcllas the. loot that are (confined together _1n _ lie suggests as remedies attention to simple elementary mural [instruction in schools, t'leuuer journalâ€" l l l I ism. remodeling of prisons, laws against vicious books and phzunphlets. and laws providing for habitual crim- inals. He. also advocates llll‘ passing of laws for speedier punishments and that State courts should sit frequently to receive statements regarding chaugtl or mitigation of punishments. _â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"_.oâ€"â€"_â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€". AT THE WEATHER BUREAU. “any “ Old Prob-t" Predicts l‘lmugcs in the “'cnIlu-r. The instruments used in observing thc weather are the aucroid and cistern baromewrs, wet and dry bulb' baromet- crs, wind vane and compass, :mcnmâ€" mcter und ancmogruph. and the rainfall. Of all these the lmrmnetcr is probably the most important. The standard form of. the instrument is a tube 31 inches long. closed at the top, exhaust- ed of air, and imnmrscd at the ln'ttom in a cup of. mercury. The purpose of the barometer is to measure the pres- sure of the atmosphere. In general. the mercury will stand high in the bulb when the. \vcuthcr is fair. and low when it is foul. Ily noting the minâ€" ute changes. measuch on a gruduatcd scale beside the tube. the observer roads the indications of the barometer. The words "fair," "change," 01.0., engraved on the front of the instrument; are disâ€" regarded. They have no significant-c. whatever. The rising or falling of the mercury in the tube is cuusml by the beginning of those atmosphcrit: changes which )reccdc a storm, but are not, discernible by our senses. The barometer tlist'crns them for us, and gives warning of wouthcr clumgcs. Of course there are many different condi- tions which affect. the instrument, the Weather observers are instructed in these matters. The ancroid harmnnlcr is round, like one of the cheap nickel- plated clocks lll:l.l. are so numerous. and the changes are indicated by a hand moving across a scale on the dial. The weight of the atmmphcrc is ("ensured not by a column of uu-rrury in a tube, but by the expansion and compri'ssinn of asuntll metal box from which the air has been exhausted. *.-â€"â€"â€"-â€"â€"â€"â€" IIARMONIOUS CUN'l'lllllll'l'IUNS. Black combines well with almost all colors. except those which are no lackâ€" ing in brightness as to be too nearly like it. Black and pale pink. blimycl- low, green, red. lavender and even raâ€" then dark shades of blue. clear brown and green are excellent cotnbinatimm. Brown combines wcll with yellow.g0l'l and bronze if it is the shade of brown which has brightness. It. is effective al- so with black and with certain tones of green. A chtx'olate-andâ€"nlilk brown cumâ€" binns well with old rose and the dull shades of pink. Very dark grmn is effective when brightened by linings of narrow trim- ming of pale blue. A medium shade of grct-n unites well with old pink. Brown- ish greens look well with bronze and co per color. ark blue may be brightened by lines of bright. rich red. by lines of old row or of clear yellow. Blue of the “elm-- tric" and "cadet" varieties is bad coul- biued with black or with figured silks in which the name shade predominates. Q The the y _ m‘ u-‘vW .. “mm .â€" â€"...... .cu.