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vvvâ€"vv }. l l l CHAPTER OILâ€"Continued. _ had them to spoil or to spend, for your For a moment he was silent, then he sake!" he answered passionately. "List- spoke again. ,en now to me, Roseâ€"my Rose lâ€"who is "And â€" other things â€" have failed'never to be mineâ€"I do not ask you you i" and as he asked it, his heart,why you have said so, I will never beat oddly anti strangely. iquestion you. “'hat you say is law to “Yes, they have failed me," she re- me for everâ€"shill ever be so. I will plied, very slowly. be your slave, your servant, anything, “You meanâ€"you have loved -â€" and,so long asI may see you and speak l0 ‘ you have beenâ€".1” lyou. You cannot stop my loving you “I have been disillusioned," she broke: any more than you can prevent the sun in somewhat abruptly, and after a.from shining upon you, or the birds short moment of silence she added,lfrom singing and the flowers from with a certain harsh coldness, “I havel blossoming about you. My love shall trouble you no more than they do, only you will know it is thereâ€"always there. You tell me I am’ young and my life only beginningâ€"well, it has he- could still understand that a man gunâ€"begun and ended in my love for might devote his entire life, his whole you as far as love is concerned; that existence, to your service, his whole beâ€" is now a part of myself, I cannot alter ing to further your smallest whim, or change myself; it will not hurt you. and yet ask for nothing in return from Have you got so much love in your life youâ€"for nothing, before God, I say itllthat you can afford to throw away done with love forever." “But you have not done with friend- ship, at least ‘I” he answered. "You Still believe in that, do you not? You dame de Brefour's brougham, and was] ed and gone from us for ever, or havei they never had any existence save in' the fantastical imaginations of those; whose trade it was to sing about themt' Far otherwise comes Spring in these latter days to us. Chills and shiver- ings, bronchitis and congestions, these are May’s messengers now. Hurry-mg away of those who can fly to warmer climates, groanings and moanings un- ceasing from those whose business, or whose poverty forces them to remain: Oh, shim sweets of Spring! oh, false flowers of fancy, that blossom only to be‘ blighted! Oh. :ill unreal rubbish written about green swords and reclin-_ ings thereon! Who were those shepâ€", herds and shepherdessrs of which our. Poets have written so unceasinglylâ€"I who tended their new-born lambs in the thinnest of cotton materials, deck- ed with pink ribbons, and made love] to each other upon primrose hedge? banks, with a sublime disregard of, rheumatism and lumbago. In the; year of our Lord, 1886, no man not enâ€"- veloped in a fur-lined Ulster, \Vllh a: woollen comforter about his neck, no woman, not desperately in love, andfi therefore recklessly imprudent, would venture to sit down upon the grass in the early weeks of April or the latter; uuys of March. let it is upon a wo-l man in such a position that the cur-l driven up to Hidden House. Here he dined with Madame, and slept in a little chamber over the stables, which Martino and Madame had converted into a very comfortable bedroom for his reception. Generally he went upstairs to Monsieur’s room. and a few minutexs' conversation took place between them, in broken English on the one side and bad French upon the other, chiefly concerning the wea- ther. Monsieur, who seemed scarcely to_ understand who he was, then dis- missed h'm unceremoniously, for he was not fond of strangers, and he only tol- erated “Monsieur Geoffrey,” as he call~ ed him, because he was not required to do anything towards entertaining him. This small concession t I has convenances over, Geoffrey gladly made his way down again to Rose's library. where the long cosy evenings over the fireâ€"light flew all too swiftly for them both. As a rule, he remained till an afternoon train the next day, and then went back to town with a tacit understanding that he would come back again the fol- lowingweek. Dangerous as these freâ€" quent; interviews were of necessity be~ ; tween an enthusiastic young man, very much in love, and a beautiful woman who knew that he was so, there was nevertheless between the two not a but for your friendship. Can you be- lieve this 'I" For a moment or two she was silent. Something indeed ruse chokingly in her throat that stifled her utterance. Something that she was unwilling for him to know of. Men had often offer- ed her love before, but never such love as this wasâ€"to her very heart she felt it. And, yet, perhaps, because she felt! it: so much, her next words, when she; could speak safely, sounded even in. mine as utterly valueless ?" "No; God knows that I have not," she answered, deeply moved. "God knows that I am lonely enough; but. how can I suffer you to sacrifice your- self to me i" "It: will be no sacrifice. If you are lonely, as you say, then I shall be able to cheer your loneliness and to bring some human interest into your life; that will be enough happiness for me. I ask for nothing better. You will let her own ears to be shallow and mean-l me come down and see you, will you ingless. I not ’I" “My dear boy, the age of chivalry is How was she to refuse him? She pretty well over I imagine l” i had fought so well, struggled so brave- "You laugh at me? You reject my} ly, but now she could hold out no long- friendship 9" Ier. A garrison that holds a traitor "No. God knows I neither laugh at : within its walls always gives in at the you," she replied, quickly, and with 8.; end, and in Rose's heart there was a deep earnestness, “nor do I refuse to' secret traitor. accept what must be, in any case. ofl Right and wrong! Right and infinite value to me." lwrongl That was what kept on ring- ”I only 83k to see you. to be near. ing in her heart remorselessly like the you, to speak to you now and then. i beat of a timepiece backwards and for- not often, but now and then. Surely wards. Right and wrong! Right and it is not much to ask i" he said very wrong! . . \Vell, she had fought for the right, humbly, dimest whispering the words but the right seemed so hard, and the as be bent towards her. taiu of the next scene in my littlelsign or a shadow of lovckmaking. Geof- drama rises. A woman well wrapped! frey kept bravely to his promise, and up in furs it is true, but a woman whol was too well aware that the con- sits upon the grass, upon the sloping .l tinuttnce of their intercourse depended side of a greenâ€"),.houldered hill, and ; upon his selfâ€"control, to allow him the looks out toward the far east withvsmallest opening for breaking it. Their longing eyes, As 1 have said, this.“'0v conversation was sometimes of books man, who so recklessly braves the fer-l and 0f art, and sometimes of all of the rors of an English Spring day, must, hundred and one little things that go without a doubt, be desperately and to make up the daily lives 01' must of fearfully in love, The wind whistles,}18- Rose talked about her surround- merrily and icin about her, her littlel lugs. her difficulties in housekeeping, dog cuddles up closely against herlthe devotion of her French servants, skirts, striving to shelter himSelf in‘lljltll a quaint yet affectionate famiâ€" their folds; now and then she shudders lmljltY; 0» llttle about her duty and de- and draws her fur cloak closer about ' VOtlon t0 the Old man upstairsâ€"hut her. but Still she sits on motionless, never about her past; that was a settled and watches. .Before her lies spread out a wide flat landscape, hazy with the faint sunshine, and fading away into the pale blue greyness of the sky. Immediately below, between herself ant! the plains beneath, is the wooded hollow where Hidden House lay buried. \Vhat is it that Bose de Brefour sits so patiently on the grass, in the east wind, waiting to see? . Only a thin, white line of smoke, far, far away, that presently will come nearer and nearer, bringing to her theI one thing t _at ever brings brightness into her IOiely life. Far, far away, across the distance, she sees it at last book to him. On the other hand, Geof- frey was easily beguiled into laying bare the whole history of his existence to her, Rose heard all about the autoâ€" cratic uncle whom he served, and the aunt whose fate he sincerely pitied, and who was always affectionate to hLm; also'about his own hitherto un- spoken hopes of being eventually tak- en into partnership, and becoming a rich man in consequence. Rose heard, too, all about the Miss Hallidaysâ€"how pretty and pleasant they were, how well they skated, what a beautiful vorce Angel had, and how her sympa- theth nature ‘had somehow reminded him of herself. She was never tired "Listen to me, Geoffrey," be pressed the hand that rested on his arm as she usedhis name; but she let that pass. “I have something that I must say to you. Do not interrupt me. God knows that, for my own sake, your friendship and your presence would be precious things to me, but there are! other things. You are. young, you have your way to make in the world] ‘ va ’ ‘ Diamond Cut Diamond . THE RSIRTI OF THE ENEMY. - immfimm l -Your career is before you. It will noti help you to be much with meâ€"it will hinder you. Believe me, I know far. better than you do. I have lived my life, a life of storms and troubles. 'Itl will not do for you to mix yourself upl in my affairs. You have friends, rela-i lions, duties, a life that is opening be-, fore you, and with which I can neveri have anything to do. Believe me, it is, wisest and best for us both that wel should never willingly meet again." “Why are you so cruel to me 2" he, broke in impetuously. “\thit has myi life and my career to do 'with the‘ friends I may make? Surely I have, asked for little enough â€"â€" for little; enoughâ€"only to be called your friend!, You cannot be so cruel as to deny mel that small boon." "Geoffrey," she said once more, “do: not let us blind ourselves. What you‘l say to me is very beautiful, and you mean every word of it; butâ€"do not bei angryâ€"it is not true! Perhaps I am; unwomzinly to say it to you, but if I am unwomanly, I am at least, “188.! What you believe to be friendship: would end iiiâ€"in loveâ€"and at thef bottom of your heart you know it is. so. Now it will not do for you to love. me, it would bring you a great deal; more sorrow than I should care to Del the cause of. I am six years older than. you are. I am a Catholic, and you are the. son of a Protestant clergyman. I am tied hand and foot by claims which ' I am unable either to rid myself of, or evon to explain to you. And in any case it is an utter impossibility that I could ever respond to your affection, or bring you anything but misery in‘ return for your love. Now do you! understand me? Have I spoken plain-; wrong was so cloaked and disguised that at last it hardly seemed to be wrong at all. \Vas it worth while to keep up the fight for what was but a shadow at the worst 2" She was so tired, so sad, so lonely, as she had told him; he asked for so little, and he asked it in such a fashion. that she could not deny it to him, forl he ivould not be denied. Geoffrey, tac- ing this first great love of his life and grasping it boldly with both hands, was no longer an adoring boy, younger than herself, he was a man, with all man’s purpose and decision. For when. once love has been spoken of between a man and a woman, it is the man who. becomes her master, and the woman? whose glory it is to humble herself be-l fore him. Rose de Brefour, who knew life and its pitfalls better than he didâ€"â€"-; Rose knew thisâ€"she knew that a wo-‘ man who allows and half consents to! a man's love is no longer able to dic-' tate terms to him, can no longey keep back the floodgates which she has half» opened to him. She knew it, and yet she blinded herself to itâ€"turning her eyes away, stifling down her conscience â€"beating back with specious arguâ€" ments the throng of self-convtctions which came in to condemn her. That was her sin. She was wilfully weak, tru ting Vigueiy, hoping feebly that somehow in the end strength might re- turn to her, yet knowing all the while that. what she hoped for would be a miracle, and that miracles were not likely to be. wrought in her favor, so; that she might be enabled to regaini the position which her own weakness was flinging to the winds. So along the frozen ice these two, whose destinies were now irrevocably pledged to mingle and to influence each other, glided along in silence, whilst ever they drew nearer and near- er to the gay crowd of skaters with. their laughter and their swinging lan-' terns. ’l‘hen Geoffrey pressed the hand upon" his arm. “Tell me Roseâ€"I may come i" : "You may come, Geoffrey," she an-l lmuch, to whom joy and brightness ‘ centred. â€"a. thin white speckâ€"a mere puff of swan’sâ€"down upon the dark, purple landscape. A." sigh of relief escaped her. _ . I "He is near rue," she murmured be- low her breath, rising quickly to her feet, and then added, with a little im- of hearing about them. “You will marry one of them some say,” she. said to him once, with a con- fidentlittle nod. To be Continued. t patience and anger, "Ah, what: a fool ~ . I am to care so much.” , AN EYE FOR AN EYE’ The dog uttered a bark of delight. _ A few little Shivering Iamhs upon Wlint “'ould Happen if the out Rule of the hillâ€"side capered away downwards law were Bt'vlvcd. in startled fear, and Rose bent her _ head before the cutting wind, and hur- ried away downwards too. There is a strong movement in Engâ€" land to bring back the catasa punishâ€" She cared too much-far too much_ merit; for peculiarly mean and brutal and she knew it. How much that crimes" Dflgonet Says: "\Ve shall caring amounted to, only those can never deal effectually with London's divme who have lived and suffered _ru_ffianism while we fill our popular have become dead things, whose exist_ cheap journals with plans for featherâ€" ence has been emerged into one dark, bed accommo‘lfluons and happy 0V6!!- idreary level of endurance and monoâ€"- Lugs in our jails. The old Mosaic idea tony, and to Whom Suddenly: as by the of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a touch of a magician’s hand, life and - _ . V. ‘ love and hope have Sprung up again tooth is the best f0i dealing Will) these And he sketches "Tit upon the barren soil, and things deemâ€" Scoundrels-m ed for ever to be dead have burst up for Tat, 3. Judicial Drama of 'I‘oâ€"mor- once more into breathing vitality. row_n That was what Geoffrey Dane's weekly .. visit to her had becomeâ€"the main- The Judge_ James Jones’ you have Spring of her whole existence; the been found guilty of jumping on an very pivot upon which her life waslold man's chest and destroying the sight of his left eye. The sentence of . . th ' t ' " eyes remained fixed as by a magnet comilm that 5,0“ be munlsoned for upon that streak of white; winding, bm._m°n 18’ “nd dt the end Of that twisting, now to one side, now to the Permd You have your "best jumped other disappearing now and then be- on and the si ht of our left ~e W l hind ’a belt of trees, burying itself for 'g y 3" (0- Still, as she walked downwards, her . . 7 . stroyed.” a brief moment into a cutting, but T} ) P ._ .. . ever growing nearer and nearer across *1" 'rl‘s‘mer» Shlll’kmgâ€" Mol'l‘l’l the wide valley below. mercy!” Eresenill’ She refleth llhe fence The Judgeâ€""You shall have just as which enCircled the plantations about her house. She did not enter the gate, muCh mercy as you shuwed that “1‘1 but skirted the belt of trees until she man! and no more- Neth" came out; on the rough, chalky road beâ€" The Evidenceâ€""This case, my lord, in low the house. Herev beneath a grant that of a man who flung his wife. out mire Peacmtreefi juSt bronzmg over of '1. window She fell on 'I. spiked with tiny arrow-like shoots, she rested, railing, and he left her more a“ leaning her back against the smooth, . ht” Diamond Cut Diamond “‘8, ' H, . ,‘ ' The Juryâ€" (Juilty. ‘which she intended them to have. If ly enough 3" l swered softly. I Her voice had been calm and quietl “Soon? Very soon ‘I \Vhent" he' enough up to the very last. But now,’ said eagerly. , _ _ I just at that last question, it wavered; "Fairly Soon," she said, smiling. a little and trembled. She had spoken‘I “Next week ‘3" very plainlyâ€"too plainly perhaps. Was: "Yes, next week, if you like." ever woman so brave, and so fearless,l She withdrew her hand, but. he or, as she hlld said. "so wise i" ;caught it once more and pressed it But her words ll'ld not. the effect hard. "God bless you. dear," he murmured. thcv had not been spoken he would Did God bless her? Alas, how often' perhaps have deluded himself a little do such blessings invoked upon thel moreâ€"have remained wilfully blind a head we love fall short and never reach! little. longer. But now her ht'.ncst,theii‘ destination. God sent no bles- words had brushed all the shams andsing here. Rather, did angels weep the t'obwcbs away. She had told him; and devils laugh at another self-decep~ that he loved her, and he knew thatition of frail, erring humanity! she h‘ld told him what was the truth.I ller courage only intensified his tie-l CHAPTER VIII. light in the love which could no long-l Winter was over, and spring was er remain hidden. illlgll at hand- The sap was rising in "\Vell, yes, then," he answered her, the trees, little swollen brown buds up- ul'tttr a pause, in a low voice of cnnccn- ; on the branches proclaimed the advent. trated passion. "I suppose you are'of .'| new life, green shoots of crocus right. I should love youâ€"l do love§nnd snowdrops shot up on all sides you. I see what it menu's now: cl from the brown bosom of the earth, the man does not feel friendship. bul 10%. ‘ days waxed longer and lighter, the sun for such a woman as you are. Per- stood up higher in the pale. blue hea- haps it is as well to know it and to vens, a fine white dust, whirled about; own it, once. for all: but after (Delllghliwnl will, and fl keen old English east: since you tell me my love. is so ul-vuintt blew uncensingly and cuttingly terly hopeless. i will never speak of it 3 throuin the very bones and marrow _of again to you. never trouble. you withuhe shivering inhabitants of the Brit- it. i shall serve you and devote myâ€"‘ ish Isles. self to you just the sun“. You will The Spring of the Poets. Where has know that it is love, but you sli-zl! new, it gone. did it ever exist, did they cr hear me speak of it again. i swear dream of it only? Or, like other and it in you! You (‘JDHN prcvcnl my L'O‘lxtddel‘ things in our land, has ll. ing on loving you." lchvinged its very essence and being "But this is shucr madnessf." shc'Wherc are the "vernal showers," the rriul. ~"\\'uuld you spoil your whole 'grecn fields that sleep in the sun," life for iha sake of a woman who can the southern breezes, the luxurizince of NW? N lllll‘llllng 10 you!" Spring’s flowers. the voices of Spring "I would spoil a dozen lives, if 1 in the air? Have all these things pass- lcloak closely about her. From here she could no longer see, the advancing' train, only the long chalk road that sloped steeply downwards, and upl which the brougham which she had? sent to meet him at the little wayside l station, short of Coddisham, at. which be always alightcd, would presently re- turn. There. was the same look of glad expectancy in her eyes, and the little white terrier sat up against her dress, with pricked ears, and body quivering with syniptitheliq eager- ness. It was characteristic of the change that had taken place in her that she carried no well-worn volume in her hands. She was, perhaps, con- scious of this wonderful fact herself, for half instinctively her hand felt in the large pocket of her cloak for some one of her dearly-loved companions of other days. And she smiled a little sadly when she found that the pocket was empty. ‘ . "I'Iow right he was,’ she murmured, with a. smile, “when he said that booksl cannot. fill one's life I" But; she sighâ€" ed a little, too, for those old friends of hers had. at least, been safe; but, as for this new thing that had come into her life, it was fraught with terrible danger. in which there Was, neverthe- less, an element: of almost irresistible fascination. It. was how two months ago since, up- on the frozen water meadows below litirliford Hall. Rose, had given to her young lover the reluctant permission that he had craved from her to come down and visit her in her home. Ever since that day he had come weekly to her. He arrived by the evening train. got out at a wayside station short of Coddiaham, was met by Maâ€" whltened trunk’ and wrapping hpr 'l‘he Judgeâ€""Ah! The sentence on this man is that he be taken to the. same house, flung out; of the same. window on the same spiked railing and that he be left. there all night." The Prisoner, who is deth and thinks zit; is the ordinary sentenceâ€""l can do that little lot on my ’ead." The. Judgeâ€""Oh, certainly, if you pre- fer it.” To the jailerâ€""Sec that. he is flung out on the spikes so that be comes down on his head. Good morn- ing. Next!" ‘ ' HEAVY HORSES. tâ€"r-s 0m- lu..\'cw l'orlt Weighing Over a Ton and a "air. A Clydesdale exhibition recently in New York is without a doubt the heaviest. horse in the world. He weighs 3,000 pounds. This monster is 201â€"2 hands high, and, although only 5years old, measures 32 inches round the arm, 45 inches round the stifle or knee joint. 95 inches girth. 34 1-2 inches round the hip and 11 feet 4 inches in length. It was of perfect proportions, with a head 30 inches in length. A British dray horse has been known to stand 18 bands high and weigh nearly 18 cwt.; while one of Wombwell's menagerie horses was once shown at: Oxford, measuring 17 hands 3 inches in height. The Thames Bank Distillery at the Cart Horse Parade of 1895 exhibited a hand.â€" aome pair of bays, each of which stood 18 hands high and weighed nearly a. ton. The weight of the aver e horse, according to an authority, in cm 660 pounds to 1,540 pounds. l l “M. ~ _.--_.____â€"_â€"_.__.. ST. VITUS Illicit. a: A TROUBLE THATi-OAUSEISII.) TIES MUCH INCONVENIERCE. Winn-ed Schoncld. of Gospel-eel. N.S., Tell, now He Obtained a Speedy and Pei- mnncnl Care. From the Acadien, “'olfville. N. S. The many cases brought to his no- tice of nuidence in this vicinity being cured from physical disorders through the agency of Dr.Willianis' Pink Pills. have created iii the mind of the Aca- dien representative a sincere belief in the healing powers of this remedy. Yetwiihal he was a little incredulous _ the other day when told of cycling man who had been cured of a very serious and deplorable disease by the use of only some two boxes of these little miracle workers. It seemed im- possible that such a remarkable heal- ing could be wrought. even by Dr. Williams! Pink Pills in such short order. Accordingly he was possessed of astrong desire to investigate. Mr. “'infred Schofield, of Gasperettu, was the address given us by our informant, and were not. long in hunting him up. We found Mr.Schofield to bettbright young man of about twenty years of age and of more than ordinary intelli- gence. llis air of candor and straight- forwardness dispelled any doubts we may have had. In a very few words he stated to us his care. “Two years ago," he said, "I was taken with an at- tack of St. Vitus Dance. Sometimes when at work I found that my fingers would all at. once straighten out and I would be compelled to drop anything I was holding. One day l was using an axe when seized with one of these attacks. The axe slipped from my hands and iii falling struck my foot and’ gave it it nasty cut. After that you can depend upon it. I left: axes alone, and it was not long before I had to give up using any kind of tool. My complaint. rapidly grew worse and 1 was soon unfitted for any sort: of work. Everything poxsible was tried by nieiii order to get relief, but I got no better. At last one day a neighbor of mine, Mr. Fred Fielding, who had been cured by the use, of Dr. \Villiams’ Pink l’ills, advised me togive them" atrial. offer- ing to pay for them himself if tlicydid not. help me. .As it turned out he was safe enough in making the offer. I followed his advice, but had scarcely begun’ to use them when I began to feel very much better. wAfter using two boxes I was perfectly cured and have never been troubled with the complaint: since. lam confident that to Dr. \Villiams’ Pink Pills alone. I owe my cure. Dr. \V’illiams' Pink Pills create new blood, build up the nerves, and thus . drive disease from the system. In hundreds of cases they have cured after all other medicines have failed, thus establishing the claim that they are a marvel among the triumphs of modern medical science. The genuine Pink Pills are sold only in boxes, boar- ing the full trade mark, "Dr. \Vil- li'ims‘ Pink Pills for Pale. People." Protect yourself from imposition by refusing any pill that does not. bear the. registered trade mark around the box. If in doubt. send direct: to Dr. \Villiams' Medicine Co., Brockvillc, Ont., and they will be mailed to you post; paid at 500 a box, or six boxes for $2.50. ulRAINS OF GOLD. ' r lst Edition ’ ' Novelty is the great. parent of please ure.â€"-â€"-Sout.h. It; is the motive alone that gives character to the. actitms of menâ€"Bray- ere. , .' Obstinacy and vehement-y in opinion are the surest proofs of stupidity.~~ Barton. No man doth safely rule but be that. hath learned gladly to olu-ysâ€"r'l‘boizias a'h’enipis. Nature. has made (K't'llptllltnl a iii-wu- sity to us; snt-it-ty makes it a duty; habit. makes it a pleasure. If there be. augbt surpassing liunmn deed or “‘Ul‘ti or thought it is :i n.olli~â€" er's love.â€"â€".\l:irt-liiuncss do szidara. The true grandeur of humanity is: in moral elevation. sustained, I'lllllllll' w d and decorated by lb- intellect of ii.:m. â€"â€"C. Sumner. There is a vast. (llff“i'(‘l|('t’ in line's ruâ€" spcct for the man “it” but. made l-‘m- self and the man who has only nulls- his moneyâ€"lilolock. To know ll‘l\\' i.‘ grow old i:-. ill" ! :-:;r l,“|'\'.'0l'l{ nl'wimlvin (llllltlllt't'flll" i:.'~:-.l difficult chapters in ii!" prim-ll .trt of lit'ing.â€"-â€".~\inu-|. Next to lint-ulna “lit‘ll in ;-.A':.'- .u opportunity ll!“ most iniimtw ll bits! in life. is to know when informal ll £I(l\‘lllll:ll!t'.-~-lllNl'll -|?. No lit-rilago- can :I fallwr ll- .5 ll‘Jllll in his children than a pond name; n :' is there, in a family any llt'll r 'wiilw in than lllt‘ lilt'llll-l'y of n imlvl- :inrv lUl. â€"J. Ii.’l|lllll"ll. -._..___...___._.___. UYS’l‘l'I’tS K.\'U\\' 'l'lil'I "Elli-Z. fl Oysters, :il'tt-r tlr-y have been brought away from lll' M‘Jl, know by lilt-llnl'l. the ('Xlit'l llurll “llv‘ll tlw .im- ll-illig and apprmu'biiig their beds, ..n.l w, of their own zit-curd, opt-n llll'll’ .bvlla to reocive tbt-ir flmtl {rum ilu~ slut, as if they were all]! :it ill‘lllt‘. “if: CAT'S TON-“Vb... The flinguvs of ill" Hit family are covered with rt-curving h]iill"h. in the common domestic t‘at timo- are small, but Huffit'iv-ntly well developed to give the tongue a feeling of rough, nesl. But in the lion and tiger the ines are strong enough to enable the, animal to tear away tiw skin of a man‘s hand merely by licking it. “mm--4 ',‘"I . .-.-.-.. ._. W--.