u, in. .v w'v ‘r' .~.m...1,,,. s,» “9.47;; a... ., I} w w I cusma i. The Nestons. of Tottlebury Grange eient and honourable very distinguished or yet for many generations back always richer and more distinguished than the common run of mankind. The men had been for the most part able and upright, tenacious of their claims. and mindful of their duties; the wom- en had respected acted respect from their interiors, and educated their brothers' wives in the Keaton ways; and the whole race, while confessing individual frailties. would have been puzzled to point out how, as a family. it had failed to live up to the position in which Providence and the Constitution had placed it. the other side in one or two cases. h'l'e the other side in one or two cases. The last owner of the Grange, a gay old bachelor had scorned .the limits of his rents and his ‘banking-aCcount. and added victories on the turf to the fa- mily laurels at a heavy cost to the family revenues. Y-ilis sudden death had been mourned as a personal loss, but silently acknowledged as a dynâ€" astic gain. and ten years of the meth- odical rule of his brother Roger had gone far to efface the ravages of his merry reign. The younger sons of the Nestons served the State or adorned the professions, and ltogethad spent a long and useful life in the Office of Commerce. He had been a valuable official, and his merits had not gone unappreciated. Fame he had neither sought nor attained. and his name had come but. little before the public. its rare appearances in the newspapers gen- erally occurring on days. when our Gracious Sovereign completed another year of her beneficicnt life, and was pleased to mark the Occasion by con- ferring honour on Mr. Roger Neston. \thu this happened, all the leaderâ€" writcrs looked him up in “Men of the Time," or “Whitaker,†or some other standard work of reference, and re- marked that few appointments would meet with more universal {pub- lic approval, a proposition which the public must be taken to have endorsed with tacit unanimity. Mr. Neston went on his way, undis- turbed by his moments of notoriety. but quietly pleased with his red rib~ lion. and when he entered into posses- sion of the family estate, continued to go to the office with unabated regul- arity. At last he reached the pin- naclc of his particular ambition. and as Permanent Head of his Depart- iucnt, for fifteen years took a. large sharc iii the government of a people almost unconscious of his éXist‘cnce, un- til the moment when Ill; saw the an- nounccmcnt that on his retirementhe had been raised to the peerage by the title of Baron Tottlebury. Then the chorus of approval broke forth once again. and the new lord had many friendly pats on the back he was turn- ing to public life. l-Icnceforth he sat silent in the House of Lords, and wrote letters to the Times on sub- jccts which the cares of office had not previously left him leisure to study. But fortune was not yet tired of smiling on the NcIstons: Lord ’Iottle- bury, before acceptiniIhis new dignity, had impressed upon is son Gerald the necessity of seeking the wherew'ith tIo gild the. coronet by a judicious marriâ€" age.- Gerald was by no means loth. He had never made much progress at the Bar, and felt that his want of success contrastcd unfavorably with the grow- ing practice of his cousin George, :1 state. of things very unfilting.as George . rcprcscnted a younger branch than Gerald. A rich marriage, combined with his father's improved posttion. opened to him prospects of a career of public distinction, and, what was more important. of private leisure, Ibettcr fitted to his tastes and less trying to his patience; and, by an unusual bit of luck. he was saved from any scruplcs about marrying for moncy by the fact that hc was already (lcsperately in low with a very rich woman. She was of no high birth it is true, and she was the widow of a Manchester mer- chant; but this same merchant, toihc disgust of his own relatives, had left her five thousand a year at her ab- solute disposal. The last fact easily outwcighcd the two first in Lord 'lotI- tlcbury's mind, while Gerald rested his action on the sole round that Seaera \\'itt was tho prettiest girl in London. and, by Jove, he believed intlic world; only, of course, if she had money too, all the better. Accordingly. the engagement was an accomplished fact: )Irs. \\ iii had shown no more than a graceful disin- :liiiation to become Mrs. Neston. .\t twenty-five perpetual devotion to the memory of such a mere episode as her first marriage had been was neither to be desired nor expected, and Neaera was very frankly in love with Gerald. Nesion. a handsome, opemfaced, strap- iin fellow, who won her hean main~ iy \cmuse be was so unlike the into Mr.- Witt. Everybody envied Gerald. and everybody congratulated Neacra on having escaped the various chasms that are supposed to yawn in the path of rich young widows“. The engagement was announced once, and contradicted as premature. and then announced again: and. in a word. cvcrythmgpur- sued its pleasant and accustomed course in these matters. Finally. Lord Tot- tlcbul'y in due form entertained Mrs. “'itt at dinner. by way of initiation into the Neston mysteries. It was for this Idinner that Mr. George Keaton. lnrrIistersI-itslnw. was putting Ion his white tie one Map evening in his chambers off Piccadilly. George was the son of Lord ‘l‘ottlebury's youngcr brother. His father had died on service in India. leaving a wife. who survived him but a few years,and one small boy. who had devcloped in- to a rising lawyer of two or three-and- thirty. and was at this moment cm- loved in thinkin what a lucky dog erald was. it al people said about Yrs. Witt were true. hot that their batters, exL i l i l l l l i His roving days were over. He had VI wanted for “itt's beauty. if she were was nothing to him. signation. Still. however much you may be In love with somebody else, a pretty girl With five thousand a 'ear is luck. and there's an end of iti So concluded George Neston as he got in- to his hansom and drove to Portman Square. Ilhe party was but small. for I.\_estons were not one of this I that ramify into bewildering. growths of cousins. Lord Tottlebur ‘ 01‘. course was there. a. tall, spare, rat er stern-looking man, and his daughter Maud, a bright and pretty girl of twenty and Gerald in a. flutter ill concealed by the very extravag~ ance of nonchalanceJ Then there were a couple of aunts and a male cou- sgn and his Wife, and George himself. Three of the guests weie friends, not relatives. IMrs. Bourne had been the chosen intimate of Lord. Tottlebury's dead Wife. and he honoured his wife’s memory by constant attention to her friend. Mrs. Bourne brought her daughter Isabel, and Isabel had come full of curiosuy to see Mrs. “’itt, and. also hoping to see George Neston, for dgd sheInot know what pleasure it would give him to meet her? Lastly, there towered on the rug the huge form of IMr. Blodwell, Q.C., an old friend of Lord lottlerury's andIGeorge's first Ltutor and kindly guide in the law, famous for i‘asping speeches in court and good stories out of it, famous, too, as one of the. tallest men and. quite the fattest man at the Bar. Only Neaera \Vitt was wanting. and before Mr. Blodwell had got well into the famous story about Baron Samuel and the dun cow heaera Wyatt was announced. Mrs. “itt’s widowhood was only two years old. and she was at this time al- most unknown to society. None of the party, except Gerald a‘nd his father, had seen her, and they all looked with in- terest to the door when the butler :innouncedIher name. She had put off her mourning altogether for the first time. and came in clothed in a gown of deep red.I With a long train that gave her dignity, her golden hair massed .ow on her neck, and her pale. clear complexion just tinged with the sus- piCion of a )lush as she instinctivaly glanced round for her lover. The entry was. no doubtua small triumph. The girls were lost in generous admiration; the men were startled; and Mr. Blod- well, finishing the evening at the House of Commons, remarked to young Sidâ€" mouth Vane. the. Lord President's pri- vate secretary (unpaid), “I 110 8. my boy, you may live as long as have, and see as many pretty women; but youll never see a prettier than Mrs. \\ itt. Her face! her hair! and Vane, my boy. her waist l†But here the diâ€" ViSion-bell rang, and Mr. Blodwell has- tened Ioff to vote against a pro- posal aimed at deteriorating, under the spacious pretence of cheapening. the ad- ministration of justice. -Lord Tottlebury, advancing to meet Ncaera, took her by the hand and proudâ€" ly presented her to his guests. She greeted each graceful and graciously un- til she came to George Neston. As she saw his solid jaw and clean-shaved keen face, a sudden light that looked like recollection leaped to her eyes, and her check flushed a little. The change was so distinct that; George was confirmed in the fancy he had from the first moment he came in, that somewhere before he had seen that golden hair and those dark eyes. that combination of harmonious opposites that made her beauty no less special in kind than in degree. He had advanced a step, his hand held half. out, cxclaimingâ€" "Surelyâ€"~" But there he stopped dead, and his hand fell to his side, for all signs of recognition had faded from Mrs. \Vitt’s face. and she gave him only the same modestly gracious bow that she had bestowed on the rest of the party. The inCidcnt was over, leaving George sore- ly puzzled, and Lord Tottlebury a lit- tle startled. Gerald had seen nothing. having been employed in issuing or- ders forIthc. march in to dinner. [he dinner was a success. Lord Tot- tlcbury unbent; he was very cordial and,Iat moments. almost jovial. Gerald was in heaven. or at least sitting direct- ly opposite and in full view of it. Mr. BlodwellIcnjoyed himself immensely: his classtc stories had never yet won 59 pleasant a reward as Neacra's low rich laugh and dancing eycs. George ought to have enjoyed himself. for he was next to lsabel Bourne, and Isabel heartily rccognismg that she was not io-night. as. to her justice, she often was, the prettiest girl in the room, took Ithc more pains to be kind and amusing. But George was ransacking the lumber-rooms of memory, or, to put it less figuratively, wonderingnnd growing exasperated as he wondered in vain. whoreIthc deuce he’d seen the girl before. Once or twice his eyes met hcrs.-and it seemed to him that he had caught her casting an inquiring appre- hcnSivc glance at him. \Vlien she saw that he was . looking. llt‘l‘ expression changch into one of friendly interest. appropriate to the examination of a prospective kinsman. "\Vliat do you think of her i" askâ€" edI Isabel Bourne. in :1 low voice. “Beau- tilul_. isn't she?" “She is indeed." George answered, “I can't help thinking I've. seen her somewhere before." “She is a person one would rememâ€" ber. isn't she.’ “'35 it in Manches- ter - "I don't think so. I haven't been in Manchester more than two or three times in my life." ' “\\cll. Maud says Mrs. \‘i’itt wasn't brought up there." I i "\Vhere was she brought up ?" "I don't know," said Isabel, “and I don't. think Maud knew either. I ask- ed Gerald. and he said she probably drop- ped Idown from heaven a few years ago. ' _ “Perhaps that's how I come to reâ€" member ier," suggested George. Fagling this explanation, he. confess- ed hginself puzzled. and determined to dismiss the matter from his thoughts for the present. Aided by Isabel Bourne, he was very successful in this effrto: a pretty girl's company is the best modern substitute for the waters of Lethe. the those fam- I I Nevertheless. his interest remained strong enough to make him ' in the. group which Gerald and Mr. lodwell formed with Xeaera as soon as the man went upstairs. Mr. Blodwell made no secret of the fact that it was with hun- a case of love at first sight. and openly regretted that his years pres _â€"FATE’S INSTRUMENTS. #Z IGeorge Ienvied his cousin his bride. lshe had seen Mr. Blodwell. In the county of Suffolk. were an an- i Egrfigfxiut 11“ family. never beautiful, very rich, but 4 he thought with mingled joy and re- i himself. his urged. i i So “‘I don't believe I ever did." 'reminds me of what they used to say vented him fighting Gerald for his race. Gerald listened with the com- placent happiness of a secure lover. andIheaera gravely apologised for not having waited to make her choice till “i. EALriiTâ€"D . ‘\\\W “\\ - Ill Pâ€"DISEASE. . The common form of hip-disease is that caused by tubercular inflamma- tion. Children in all conditions of life. are other. 2 "But at least you had heard of me?" "I am terribly ignorant," she said: subject to it. The delicate and the weak suffer the most frequently. as would be expected. but occasionally it attacks those of ruddy and well~nour- ished appearance. i It occurs as a sequel to weakness of. the system, let the cause of the weak- ness be what it may. Attacks of acute infectious diseases, convalescence from surgical operations, and even prolonged subjection to unhealthy conditions are among its predisposing causes. The hip-joint, as well as the lungs, is therefore to be regarded as fertile soil for disease to flourish in as soon as the vitality of the body reaches a low ebb. I Indeed, convalescence from children's diseases should be regarded as a per- iod still fraught with danger. rather than as a time for the relaxation of vigilance. The vital powers are for a time handicapped after every illness. Almost every case of hip-disease is as- cribed by the mother to a fan. It is true that a fall may be the immediate occasion of the trouble, but behind it in every instance is a lowered vitality. As is true of other grave disorders, the external evidence of hipâ€"discae }s at first slight. Pain in the knee is often complained of, though the disease is in the hip. Usually pain is slight or absent. I The first and most important evi- dence of the disease is a. limp,_ which‘ may be slight or more noticeable. \Vhen such a symptom is noticed in a. child, treatment should be sought at once, since the chance of complete re- covery is lessened every time the weight of the body is thrown upon the leg. A suitable apparatus will render the joint motionless, and at the same time remove the tention of the surrounding . muscles. Several weeks, or even' months, of this treatment are. required to effect a cure, which may beIComplete and leave no stiffness of the jomt; but in almost all neglected cases, and eyen in some that receive prompt attention, marked deformity 'results. I I It should be home in mind, then, that even a slight limp in a child calls for immediate action. In any case, ab- solute rest of the joint is to be Becom- mended until the cause of the difficulty is discovered. - "Neaera's not one of the criminal classes, you see, sir." Gerald put in. "He taunts me," exclaimed Mr. Blodwell, "with the Old Bailey!" George had come up in time to hear the last two remarks. Neaera smiled pleasantly. "Here’s a young lady who knows nothing bout the law, George,†con~ tinued lodwell. "She never heard of meâ€"nor of you either; I dare say. It about old Dawkins. Old Daw never had a. brief, but he was Recorder of some little borough or otherâ€"place With a prisoner once in two years, you knowâ€"l forget the name. Let's seeâ€" yes, Peckton.†' “Pecktonl†exclaimed George Nes- ton. loudly and abruptly. Neaera. made a sudden motion with one handâ€"a sudden motion suddenly checkedâ€"and her fan dropped with a clatter on the olished boards. ‘ 1 Gerald dived or it, so did Mr. Blod- well, and their heads came in contact with such violence as to drive all re- miniscences of Recorded Dawk'ins out of Mr. Blodwell's brain. They were still indulging in recriminations, when Neaera swrftly left them, crossed to Lord Tottlebury, and took her leave. George went and opened the door for her. She looked at him curiously. "W'ill you come and see me, Mr. Nes- ton ’9’" she asked. I He bowed gravely, answering noth- mg. The party broke up, and as George was seeing Mr. Blodwell's bulk fitted into a. four-wheeler, the. old gentleman “kiiiii dd (1 th t G i. " y i you 0 a, sore" "\VLhat ’6†g s "Jum , when I said Peckton.†"OhL used to go sessions there, you know." i “Do you always jump when people mention the places you used to go ses- smns at '9’" "Generally,:' re lied George. I I"I see," said 3 r. Blodwell, lighting hisICigar. “A bad habit, George; it exmtes remark. Tell him the House. "Good-night, sir,†said George. "I ho e your head is better." lIr. Blodwell snorted indignantly as he pulled up the window, and was driv- en away to his duties. (To Be Continued.) .__â€" HYDROPHOBIA. Rabies, or hydrophobia, is caused by the introduction into the blood of a special poison derived from the mouth‘ of an animal suffering from the same disease. This animal is commonly a dog, although cats, wolves,_skunks and other animals may become affected.†Hydrophobia in man differs little in its course and symptoms from hydroâ€" phobia in animals. The first stages of the disease are marked by a vague restlessness, and strong irritability and excitability. The well-known dread of water, scnsitiveness to light and sound, sleeplessness, frothing at the mouth and spasms follow in rapid succession. Ex~ haustion is the inevitable result of this alarming train of evils, and thus the Isufferer is relieved from his agonies. There is an indisputable resemblance betwoen hydrophobia and lockjaw, though there is no doubt that the. two diseases have a. separate and distinct origin both arise from germ infection. Lockjaw is a disease which may folâ€" low any injury. Its germ is particu- larly common in dust and about staâ€" bles. The muscular spasms and exces- sive irritability are often confusmg, and many authorities have asserted that most cases of supposed hydrophobia are lockjaw. Now that it is possible to separate the germ, all doubt as to the character of either disease may be easily settled. Death by lockjaw occurs from suffoca- tionâ€"the spasms of the muscles about the. chest constricting it to such a de- gree as to prevent reathing. Signs of hydrophobia rarer develop under four weeks, and sometimes ayear may elapse after the original injury. The proportion of the bittcn _cases which eventually succumb is variously esti- mated from one in two to one in twenty. Since the recently inaugurated teur treatment offers the only posdive escape from this terrible malady, and since also it is necessary to inoculate the system thoroughly With the re- medy within two or three weeks of the time. of the bite at the longest, it HOLDS 4 0, ‘00 PEOPLE. The Crystal Palace, In England, the. Largest Permanent Building. The building holding the largest number of people is the Crystal Pa- lacep Sydenham, England. The Crys- tal Palace on its ground floor and gal- leries has a floor space of over 800,000 square feet. and. assuming that three fourths of this is occupied by stalls, exâ€" hibits, &c., the remaining fourth would be capable of holding more than 100.- 000 people. If the building were cleared of all but the necessary supports of gal- leries and roof, it Mould hold about 400,000 people. St. Peter’s, at Rome, is so large that St. Paul's Cathedral could could easily stand inside it. It occu- pies a I space of 240,000 square feet; its front is 400 feet broad, rising to a height I01! 180 feet; the length of the in- terior is 600 feet; its breadth 442 feet; and is capable of holding 54,000 people. Its piazza. in its widest limit holds 621.000. It has been stated that the Mor- mon Tabernacle, at Salt Lake City, will accommodate 25,000. This is not correct, as its seating capacity is 8,000 comfort- ably and 10,000 crowded, while 4,000 or 0,000 people make it uncomfortable for every one. The largest temporary ac- commodation ever provided undcr one roof was in the Hall of Arts anti Build- ing Section in the Chicago Exhibition. It covered an area of 301-2 acres. and, including upper galleries, ~10 acres; 11 acres of the roof was glazed. One mil- lion of mcn could stand at one time upon its floor. > ....____-._â€"â€"â€"-_. HORSE SENSE. Hqulucs 'llml l'nn l'luy (‘ards nnd Under alaiiul Language. Next to the elephant the horse is the most intelligent animal. His ap- preciation of kindness and his love for his own health are characteristics that are well known to all who are familiar with him. That the horse can be trained to perform acts almost human _ wItII in their cleverness was proved recentâ€" ‘5 ‘iusu’mdrz' to trâ€; every 032% I ly in London when gm. of them emer_ equalIcare. The Pasteur mclh um- tained crowds of people night“. by i Sists inIinjecting a concentrated by- " drophobia poison, very much as vaccine writin hi :1 i ' r ‘ - . . . . .- g s n 118 on a slate, perform Imus Is InJeCted for the prevenuon of I smallpox. ingr on the haiiImonium, and playing a , game at nap. ast year at the Aquar- l - - , . . ' _ iuin. London. a remarkany clever horse. I . It ’3 belléve‘l bi man) that iiInmedL named Alpha. game a performance ' mm muter'zanon Of Hm mJurm M â€" I suise- Some 1 quent trouble, and this should always which included all these items. Igrcatly lessens the chances of time ago at the Crystal Palace ahorse ’ ' was shown capable of understanding ! be done by way at prudutmn' twolanguages,I French and German,and g "' by meansIOf Signs was able to answer = BANANA DIET IN TYPIIOID FEVER: aziy question piit,Isuch as the numberi A southern doctor had a patient, ti 0 persons orcupying each seat in theéwomam who has hm," {or ten days audience, and the number of each sex;, _ . , It could also add up with ease a sum g suffering from a severe case of typhmd marked on a blackboard, and state the g fever. He had prescribed the regula- exact tune indicated by the hands of t “on course of treatmentI and had kept 8' watCh‘ her on milk and fluid food diet. She did * , , ‘not do as well under the treatment as MERE SYMPATHX' ' ihe desired and he watched the case mitigating (after 31181 “(leapâ€""5'01: ‘ with more than ordinary care. we to engage . wan to as o . . you a question. “'1: did you rush out, on. ,the tenth day the Pauent'“ bus" of the room when began to prmicondition was serious, said: 9°59": I . “\Vell. doctor, I just can't take any Elmm-u_‘t made me he! 5°"? for more milk. I would rather die than the two girls down in the kitchen. . whose lovers are too bashful and too' “'5' “' And the bran“ I have been awkward to ropose; so] hurried downi fed on fairly 888 1118- I Will Starve and invited t e. two couples up into thel myself rather than try to force any lack parlor where the men could hear more down" how the thin is done." . 4 "gm Th...“ gthoy must have heard- The doctor realized that his patient every word?" must take nourishment in order to suc- “lhat doesn't matter. dear. There is cessfully combat the disease. But just no. danger of any breach of promise what to suggest puzzled him. He and. between us, you know." thought for a while. and the story of how useful the bananas was came to his mind. He determined to try a banana diet on his patient, whose sto- mach rebelled at the mere mention of li iiid nourishment. the physician asked her if she could Lucy-Momma, may I go over there to the bridge? Mammaâ€"W’hv do you want to go over there. dear? Lucyâ€" Oh, just want to gargle my feet in the brook. l focus of the ellipse. eat a banana. She looked but Iwith alacrily said: surprised. ‘hat one? Why, doctor. I could eat tn a dozen. The physician had decided to give the banana :1 trial. and sending out pIrix‘urrch some choice fruit, not over- ripe. lhe patient eagerly ate one. It was not long before she. wanted an- I It was given her. The doctor remained an hour. and during that time she had eaten four billltllIIiS. “licn‘lic lcit he gave orders flat she be given all she wanted. But all other fruit and solids were. strictly pro- hibited. The patient took kindly to the diet, and would eat as munv as a~ doz_cn during the day. Typhoid fever must necessarily run the twcntyame davs. and at tlfc end of ten days after bogiimiiig the fruit diet his patient was convaleswnt. Than the adyantagus were even more appar- ent: 'lhe remarkable nourishment of fruit had not permitted her vitalitv to be so greatly exhausted as is the case when liquid nourishment is strict- lyI adhered to, and she gained strength with unusual rapidity. lhc. splendid results attained in this case persuaded the physician to adopt stiiiilar treatment in other cases and in no mstance have. any evil effects been manifested. " â€"â€". THE SUN‘S DISTANCE. “'ould Take 500 Years to ('ovcr It at I Swift Slcnmcr‘a Pace. "The sun is about ninety-three mil- lions of milas distant from the earth," writes Alden \V. Quimby. “It varies through the year because the earth's orbit is elliptical, and the sim is at one The earth is more than three millions of miles nearer the sun in December than in June, at which time the latitudes south of the equator receive his direct rays and experience the great heat of their summer. “Let us try to comprehend the figures stated. The other day two racers of the sea. proudly lowered the record of trans-Atlantic passage. Could they turn. their prows to the sun, and drive their great engines day and night in the crossing of the ether main, it would be five hundred years before they could reach harbor. I “Most persons haveInoliced the ap- preciable interval of time between the stroke of an axe at a distance and the resultant sound; could we hear itho sound of a solar explosron we would know that the explosion had occurred fourteen years he ore.I Perhaps the most striking illustration is thatwhich imagines a little child to have an arm long enough to reach Iihe sun. The child might trust its lingers into tho seething fires, but it: would grva up to maturity and calmly descend into the valley of extreme old age, blissfully unconscious of any pain from the burn- ing; in fact it would require another â€"_â€"â€"_ such a. lifetime to bring the news to the brain." ORIGIN OF PEERAGES. In commenting on the succh which have greet-ed some recently created peers, Henry Laboucliere gives the fol- lowing list of Lord Mayors of London who founded illustrious houses: Lord Aveland, from Sir Gilbert lIoath‘cote, 1711; Lord Bacon, from Sir Thomas Cooke, dryâ€"goods merchant, 1557; the Marquis of Bath. from Sir Rowland I'lcyward. clothworker, 1570; Lord. Braybrooke. from Sir John Gresham. grocer, 1517; the Earl of Warwick, from Sir Samuel Dashwood. vintncr. 170:2; the Duke of Buckingham. from Sir John Gresham, grocer, 15-17: Lord. Compton. from Sir \Volston Dixie, tan- ner, 1585; the Earl of Dciibigh. from Sir Godfrey Foilding, merchant, 1452; the Earl of Filzwilliain. from Sir 'l‘lio- mius Cooke, dry-goods merchant. 1557; Lord Palmerston, from Sir John Hobb- lon, grocer, 1695; the Marquis of Sal- isbury, fronr Sir Thomas Cookcn dry goods merchant. 1557. PRESENCE MIND. flow 0. German ofllccr h’nvcd the Life. of a Child. A person who knows exactly the right thing .to do in a sudden emergency. without stopping to think at all. doâ€" serves to have his presence of mind not- ed and commended. A German drum- major has lately attained such distinc- tion with good reason. A rcgimcnt of the imperial army. resting on a country road. was ap- palled to see a great bull madly pur- suing a little child in a field which was near by, and yet so far away that the child could not be reached in time to save it, nor yet saved by the shoot- ing of the animal. The bqu had his horns down, and all the soldicrs wcrre horrificd_to scc that in another moment the _cliild must be gored to death. For an instant no one seemed to know what to do, and then the drum-major shouted to the bug- lcrs of the. band, who stood near With thcir instruments in thcii‘ hands. to soundaloud blast. 'l'hcy loiked aghast. “Sound, 1 say, for God's sake, to save the childl" he repciitcd. 'lhi-n lhc buglch blew a blast :it the top of their lungs. The di'uiii-iiiajoi knew that animals of the cow kin-tare so much affgcicd by strange and high. pitched musical sounds that thny swam compelled to imitate rhcin. 'l'lic. bull proved to be no cXi-eption to the role As soon as he heard the bugle blast he paused in his pursuit of the child. glanced toward the band. raised his head, and began to bellow madly. 'l‘hc buglcrs kept up as high and discord- aIni a tuiiiult as they could, and mean- time soldiers were running to the res- cue. of the child. Before the bull had finished his at. tention to the bugles the child was in a place of safety. ANCIENT FLOWERS. The oldest and most curious herbaro iuin in the world is in the Egyptian Museum at (.‘airo. It consists of crowns. arlzinds, wreaths and bouquets of lowers. all taken from the ancient trunbsIof Egypt. most, of the examples hung in (excellent condition, and near- ly all the flowers have been identified. They cannot be less than 3,000 years old. " "S‘Iifl‘fr‘vï¬ :-. “Waywâ€" mï¬v . - ..__._.:__.___.._._._._... ,. a. . n . WW ww.m.â€"___.._â€"Mrm.â€"~ _' . ,._. _ I . . . _.._ --..... .......