++++++++++++++++++++t BY PRUXY te+++++++++++++++++++ 1. Bob Montgomery and i were old chums. We had fraternized at school in a truly Dainon-andâ€"Pythias manner teaching to witness. We swore eternal friendship in these good old days, and faced the battle of life together when we shock from our feet the dust cf that temple of Minerva wherein we had staked our thirst at the fountain cf knowledge. ' Being possessed of a literary turn of mind, Bob turned his back on our little Uevonshire village and gravitated to London, that Mecca of every literary pilgrim. My hobby was musicâ€"my one desire tc win fame by my compositions. What field could offer such scope for the young musician as the Great City? Fir- ed with dreams of future greatness. i followed Bob up to town. We secured lodgings together in a modest little su- burbâ€"rent not too high for our some- what slender meansâ€"and settled dmvn resolutely to .carve our respective roads to fame and fortune. After many vicissitudes. Bob secured a fairly good position on a newly-start- ed evening paper. on which I was for- tunate enough to get installed as musi- cal critic. Prior to this a couple of my songs had reached the public through the medium of one of the foremost mu- SICtlllI publishers, and had “gone down“ we . As Bob himself phrased it. “things were looking up.†The new paper was an undoubted suc- cessâ€"it “caught on" after the first six monthsâ€"a result largely attributable to +x ++++++++Â¥ +++++++¢+ ++ . . 1;; 5341:2135 aï¬.3.€;;;..&ifil 4.5231? 2 nthâ€. ii??? I :i I I the energy of its editor. Richard Gra-I hame, formerly suboeditor on the Daily Thunderer. Grahame was an old journalistic band (havmg been connected with the London press for over thirty years). and. owing v i I "r w»; r... . .. .. \. ~ .~ =Ai_ig_r_._;.: m. _ \'.. A.:-,..,_.<n.~.._ii'.'.‘. †.‘l. .' .:, ‘.._ , 3., very much out of the common to knock ou off your balance like that. Just trot it outand I’m your man. “Thank you, John,†he said, squeez- ing my hand heartily. “I was fully as- for a few moments staring out through the window. Then he spoke abruptly, his back still turned to me: “I want you to plead my cause for me to Nellie Grahame.†Had a thunderbolt landed in the room l could not havetbeen more astounded. Fortunately, he did not look around. 31' my face must have betrayed me. After a slight pause he went on: “You know i love her sincerely. l havefor weeks past endeavored to put my thoughts into words, but when l am in her presence 'all my courage oozes out, and I feel a little veritable- cow- ard. The long and the short of it isâ€" I cannot do it. Will you do it for me? She looks upon you now as an old fricndâ€-â€"i winced a littleâ€"“and I am sure you could put thingse to her in a nice way and make it all plain sailing. I think she does care for me just a lit- tleâ€â€"“There seems to be no doubt about that." I acknowledged mentallyâ€"“andl am sure. John, for the sake of our long friendship. you'll do this much for me." I felt a mist gather in my eyes as he spoke, for if ever one man loved an- other I old Bob. My thoughts traveled back to the old schooldays. l remembered how he had fouulii for me against the two or three biggcr fellows who wanted to bully me. l thought of the time when he had sav- ed my life at the risk of his own when, with a batch of other youngsters. we went. swimming in the old mill pond. On the tablet. of my memory was re- corded the vow I made on that never- to-be-forgotten dayâ€"a mental vow to lay down my life for' him if such a course should ever become necessary. I closed my eyes a moment to shut out the face of Nellie Grahame, which seemed to rise as tlu'ough a mist. “Well, John?" With a start I jumped 'up. to find he loved Bob Montgomeryâ€"dear to his genial manner and thorough hon-ihad turned 11nd W35 WEI-Ching me anx‘ esty. there was not a more popular member of the profession. He toolo a great liking to Bob and myself. and we frequently spent very pleasant evenings at his house. fie was a widower. with one daughterâ€"a sweet, Winsome girl just out of her teens. It would take a more facile pen than mine to describe Nellie Grahame, SO i will not attempt it. I will simply quote Bob‘s summing upâ€"-“As nice a girl as you’d meet in a day’s walk"â€"â€"which is but a meagree description. after at]. Bob, be it mentioned. was always a hot-headed, impetuous youth. so it is not to be wondered at that he should straightway fall head over ears in love with his chief's pretty daughter. But what was certainly surprising was the fact that lâ€"â€"unemotional, phlegma- be John Adams (“Steady .Iohn†he. usual- l), called metâ€"should actually go and do likewise. l'couidn’t help it. really. One glance from Miss Nellie Grahame’s mischcvious blue eyes was more than enough for me, and i succumbed. But. not a word did I say to Bob on the subject. having an instinctive dislike to bare my heart to even him, my dearest. truest friend. I felt somewhat. that icherishcd a hopeless passion, for did not he worship [1‘ the same shrine. What chance could I haveâ€"plain (not to say ugly). slow and ploddingâ€"against my brilliant chum, so handsome and noble-hearted? tie, on the other hand. made no se-_ cret of his ardent desire to woo and win the “dearest girl on earth†(1 am quot- ing him again), which was just a little hard for me to listen to unmoved. The young lady in question was equ- ally gracious to both of us. her manner being perhaps a little more friendly to myself. “Of course," I reasoned it out, “she doesn’t. for a moment imagine I care two pins for her, and she likes ‘me be- cause I am Bob's bosom friend.†And then l would settle down at the piano in our little sitting-room and pour all my feelings into a dreamy noc- turneâ€"a habit I had when in troubled mood. .â€"â€"â€"- II. One evening Bob came in looking ra-' ther glum, and sat down to tea with a very pre-occupied manner. He answer- eu my occasional,qucrics with monosyl- labic repliesâ€"not always coherentâ€"and appeared to be in an extremely brown study. Feeling sure he would get it off his mind in due course, I maintained a most discreet silence for a considerable time. awaiting developments. Suddenly he looked up and relieved himself thus: "John. old man, I’m a chicken-heart- ed donkey.†I lokkcd over him critically. and men- tally cogitaied whether it was overwork or the hot weather which affected him. I decided finally on the former theory. “I think you ought to give yourself a rest. for a week or two,†I observed dip- lomatically. “Rest be hanged!†was the energetic and unexpected retort. as he rose ex- citedly to his feet, kicking over the chair. which fell with a, crash. Not heading it, he continued: “I want your advice and assistance." “To smash the furniture?" I haznrded. ' “Look here. John." said be, coming over and placing his hand upon my shoulder, “we’ve always been true friends to one another.†I nodded in- quiringly. “I want you now to do for me. what I am too much of a coward to do for'myselfâ€"will you do it?" "Bob." said I, grasping his hand with an affectionate clasp, “it. is hardly neces- sary for you to ask. Of course I‘ll do It. whatever it is. It must be something i iously. For a avoided his, and my mind. “ will do it, Bob.†“Thank you, old man,†was all he said, but his look expressed more than the simple words. Rather hurriedly l donned my outdoor habiliments and sat- bed from the house, determined upon moment my glance then I had made up immediate action .-â€"-â€" - III. On reaching the Grahamc’s domicdc Ifound that Mr. Grahame was out and his daughter alone in the drawing-room. She came forward to meet me with a frank, winning smile, and us I gazed for a moment into her bright eyes my t-eart rose up in hot rebellion against the thought of pleading for another suit- or. “Good-evening, Mr. Adams. What has happened to your bosom friend that he is not with you?" “He is not well; that isâ€"I mean he 's unable to accompany me.†I stammercd in rather a batting fashion. as she look- ed at me inquiringly. “In fact, Miss Grahame, he did not come because I wished most particularly to have a pri- vate conversation with you on a most vital subject." She opened her eyes wide at this ra- ther potentous announcement. and men- tioned me to a seat. i drew over a chair and sat down beside her. thought I. setting my with a resolute snap.’ “Were you ever in love. Miss Gra- hame?" I hazarded, not exactly know- ing how to come to the point. She blushed a little and turned her head aside, asking, after a slight pause: “Why do you ask such a strange ques- tion?" , “Because iâ€"heâ€"that isâ€"-‘I meanâ€"†i stopped in some confusion. She shot a quick glance at me but. said nothing. “Miss Grahameâ€"Nellie,†I went. cu hurriedly. “there is a certain gentle- man whosc dearest wish is to call you his; from the day upon which he first met you he has loved you. his love may not. “Now for it,†teeth together Iie hopes have been' in vain. but that it has touched a responsive chord. Is that hope futile?" She grew rosy red. and played nerv- ously with the bunch or seals on her chain. I moved my chair a little near- er and laid my hand on hers. It tremb- led in my clasp like a prisoned bird fluttering in its cage. “Nellie, will you answer me?†She gave me a shy look. that nearly made me forget that l was pleading for another person: but i thought of poort old Bob anxiously awaiting the return‘ of his ambassador. and I conscientious- ly endeavored to plead his cause honest~ 1y. Without giving her time to frame an answer. I plunged on: “He's the noblest-hearted fellow rn earth and well worthy of you. I would stake all I possessâ€"my life evenâ€"~ on Bob Montgomery’s honor.†' She snatched her hand from mine and turned on me a glance of most thorough surprise. tier face grew pale queried in a low tone: “Am l to understand. Mr. Adums.that| as she what. you have just said is on behalf of Mr. Montgomery?†. “Why certainly. Miss Grahame.†I an- swered hastily. “i must not have made my meaning sufiiciently clear.‘ I thought you understood mo.“ , She gave me a look. half pained. .half angry. and turned away without speak- ing. very much to my discomfiture._ “Miss Grahame." I said. hurriedly, “i’m afraid l~have made rather a. mess of it. but really I didn’t mean to. I thought myself you had a very strong liking for my friend. who is really a thoroughly good follow. I am sure he warships the very ground you walk on, and no wonderâ€"that is, I nican~â€"â€"â€"-" sured you‘d help me over the stile. Are you going over to the Grahame’s to- night?" ' ' "Well, that’s rather a superfluous ques- p tion, considering we drop over there nearly every night." He turned away from me and stood t :--*...::»amu:-.:._-.ui»;ttts=uavx- - , fl... .‘ She smiled a queer little smile and put out her hand, the rich color again lighting up her face. “You must excuse me now, Mr. Ad- ams. i must think over what you have said. You have taken me by surprise." “1 hope I have not offended you,†I murmured apologetically as I took the roffered hand in mine. “I am not easily offender," she re. turned smilingly, adding as an after- thought: “I do not think you could say anything which would offend me.†“Thank youâ€-â€"and, moved by an irres- istible impulse. I stooped and kissed the little hand I held. She blushed furious- ly. her ï¬ngers trembling in mine, and said huriedly: “Don’t think me rude if I send you away now. i will write you by an early post. Good-bye." l murmured some kind of confused adieu and took my departure, fooling not too well pleased with the manner in which I had carried out my delicate mission. I found Bob striding up and down the little sitting-room as if in training for a pedestrian handicap. Be- fore I was well inside the door he had seized me by the shoulder and queried: “What. news?†“Indefinite.†I retarned briefly. “Miss Grahame has promised to think over it and writeâ€â€"â€"â€"with which he was forced to remain content. â€".â€"â€" " IV. For the next couple of days poor old Bob was in a condition of nervous ten- sion, which proved rather a strain on my usually steay nerves. Every step in the quiet little street in which We lived resulted in a headlong comer was a postman bearing the all- important episileâ€"so anxiously awaited. so long delayed. But the postman came and the postman went. morning, noon and night, without result. On the third evening, however, the familiar double knock was heard 1e- verberaling through the house. Bob at once rushed out on the landing and looked over. “For the little gentleman, sir,†said the trim little servant maid. tripping up- stairs with a small parcel in her hand. Bob was so disappointed that be for- got to say “thank you†as be seized the parcel and tossed it across the room to me. A small. neat package it was, addres- cd “John Adams. Esq,†in a handwrit- ing distinctly feminine. I cut the cord and opened up the brown paper cover- ing. bringing to light a small blue and gold bound volume bearing the legend ‘1‘)Longfellow's Poems" stamped on the ack. Bob’s curiosity was aroused, and, reaching over, he picked up the book. As he did so a folded sheet of paper slipped from it and fluttered to the floor. I seized it, spread it out and read the following: “See page 113 for Grahame.†in a moment I had snatched the little volume from him and eagerly turned to the page quoted. The leaf was folded downâ€"it was the “Jourtship of Miles St.andishâ€~â€"and four lines were marked with blue pencil. my answcr.â€"â€"N. “But as he warmed and glowed, in his simple and eloquent language, Quite forgetful of self, and full of praise of his rival: Archly the maiden smiled, and with tears over-running with laughter, Said -in a tremulous voice, ‘Why don’t you speak for yourself, .Iohn‘f’" The book fell from my hand as I rea- lized the signiï¬cance of that last line: “Why don’t you speak John?†for yourself, The twilight sky seemed to glow with all the radiance of noon I Seemed to hear the music of birds in the air. My heart beat tumultuously with an cctasy of sudden joy. Utterly oblivious of Bob. i started up and. seizing my hat, rushed from the house straight to the Gra- hame’s. Fortunately. Nellie was alone, when I entered unbiddcnâ€"not waiting to he announced. As I crossed the threshold she turned to greet me, and I read that inher eyes whichâ€"blind foot as I wasâ€"4 had failed to read before. One shy, sweet glance, one tender smileTand I had folded her to my heart. “Poor Bob!†said 1 some time after, when we had descended to things sub- lunary. “what will he think of me?†“You (lid the best you could for him, John. dear,†said Nellie, with an arch smile; “it was not your fault that I did not accept him. I am very sorry for the poor boy. but, you know, I wouldn’tg‘ivc you up. John, for all the Bobs in Chris- ] lendom.†Now. what answer could I make to thawâ€"Pearson’s Weekly. ._._.......+._....__. \VHITE SANDS. The sands at Blackpool, tn Lancoshire, England, are said to be the whitest 'n the British Isles. From Penzancc to the Land‘s End. on the coast of Cornwall, the sand on the seashore is very white; white in St. Mary’s. one of the Scilly Islands. the sand on the shore is exceed- ingly white and glistening. On the other hand. the sand about Plymouth is blue- ish-grcy in color, probably owing to the shells of mussels broken and mixed with it: and on the coasts of the North Sea the sand of the seashore is yellowish- brown or reddish. The sand on the coast of Argyllshire, in Scotland, is re- markablc for its. whiteness. Stone: “I spoke to the chemist and to advised me that I shouldâ€"â€"†Doctor (in- terruptingi: “Oh. he gave you some idiotic advice, I suppose." Stone: “He advised me to see you.†rush to the window to see if the now-- SAUSAGES Witt} IROM BONNIE SCOTLAND? NOVEL USES OF SOME \VELLâ€"KNOVVN ARTICLES. ..__ Rotten Eggs for a Shampooâ€"Milk is Now Used in the Paving of Streets. A purveyor of sausages/in Swaziland has made a great fortune owing to the large demand for his goods for dyeing garments. lie was greatly astonished at the vast demand which sprang up for his German sausages. On inquiry he found that the sausages were so full of aniline dye that the women were col- oring their garments a bright vermil- ion with the water in which they had been boiled. It is a fact that a great many of our most. fashionable youths are wearing waistcoats which have been dyed by microbes. Most beautiful colorsare pro- duced by certain microbes, and at some time it will be possible to buy a dell- cately microbe-tinted tie. and to eat. mi- crobeâ€"dyed food. Some of our most highly cstccmcd foods owe their delici- ous flavor to the presence of microbes. Not long ago a firm of oil merchants in Munich forwardcde samples of their goods to a large landowner and afzi‘i- culturist in the neighborhood. The sample consisted of a bottle of a new waterproofing oil, which they were bringing out, and they sent it in order that. he might try its effect upon boots, harness. and so on. Some time after they wrote to him again asking him if he would be good enough to favor them with his opinion as to the merits of the oil. They receiv- ed the following reply: "1 was exceeding- ly pleased with the oil; it gives a better flavor to a salad than anything of the kind I have used before. i am not, how- ever, quite clear as to THE USE OF THE BRUSH. which you also inclosed, and thus am not able to give you any opinion as to its quality.†A new use for rotten eggs was shown at a police-court some little time ago. A man was charged with being in posses- sion of rotten eggs, and his defence was that. his wife broke the eggs in order to shampoo the children. In reply to Mr. Mead it was stated that ancient eggs are very good for the hair. A new use has been discovered for mummies. They are dissolved into paint, and an artists’ color manufacturer states that they have a distinct commercial value when ground up. Properly treat- ed, they make a rich, light-brown color, which is in great. favor amongst artists. Some of the most delightful pictures ex- hibeled on the Royal Academy walls owe their richness to the presence of ground- up mummies. A new use has been discovered for milk in the paving of streets. The milk is solidiï¬ed, and the streets are then paved with the solid substance, thus supplanting tiagstones and macadam. Trcacle forms an excellent bear-trap. Maple syrup is poured over heaps of fat- len leaves. The bear then comes down to lick up the syrup, and gets his eyes covered with the leaves. The moment the bear tries to get the leaves out cf his eyes the lighter they stick to his face and so HE IS EASLY CAPTURED. An ingenuous Texan tailor has dis- covered a new way of using barrels. One of his specialties is the pressing of gen- tlemen‘s attire, and he has fixed a large tub outside his shop, to which he has fastened the very striking announce- ment: “For Men Only. Stand in our Barrel while we press your Pants for 15 cents.†A novel use of carrots is that of a table decoration. The prosaic carrot is by no means to be despised for decorative pur- poses, especially when flowers are so scarce and dear. The green part is cut low, and then the carrot is sliced r\ff at about half an inch above the shoots. Afterwards it is planted in small pots of silver sand, and when kept moist a very pretty, fern-like plant shoots up. Newspapers are very useful in get.- tmg rid of moths. Moths detest the smell of printers’ ink, so that when wol- lens are wrapped up, the newspapers form an effective moth preventative; the cheaper the newspaper the better, for the cheap ink is better than the more expensive variety. Banana skins are coming into great favor at large hotels for cleaning brown boots. A most excellent polish is ob- tained by the use of the skins. A new use has been discovered for tobacco pouches, which may save many a life when remembered. Most towns have now adopted the overhead electric frac- tion system for the tram-cars. it is no common occurrence for the wires to break, and “live wires†have caused many deaths. The ordinary RUBBER TOBACCO-POUCH. of the crescent-shaped variety forms an admirable non-conductor. If the fin- gers are placed in one-half and the thumb in the other, the broken wire may be safely handled, and placed out of harm’s way Another vaulable hint is that a half- penny may often not as a life-saver. A halfpenny wrapped in a. handkerchief, and bound tightly around the wound, will stop the bleeding in any case of the bursting of a varicose vein. Binding such a place up with rags or a towel is perfectly yuseless, as the article on] soaks up the blood and the bleeding 'con- ttinues. A halfpenny, of even a three- penny bit, put on the wound and bouan to it very tightly, will save many a life. The number of deaths caused by the 'use of oil lamps is the source of a ter- rible death-roll. Yet it is stated that if oil lamps are used for lighting purposes there never need be an explosion or an accident of any kind. In order to prevent lamp accidents the whole of the burners used in the lamp should be rolled once a week in weak vinegar.- Pearson’s Weekly. » _â€". I\OTES OF INTEREST FROM HER; BANKS AND BRAES. What is Going on in the Highlands and? Lowlands of Auld Scolia. At Ilawick a farm servant was ob- served to fall on the pavement, and the' police, thinking he was drunk, gave him the frog’s march to the police station. There it was found that the man was dead. The County of Sutherland Association is issuing a magazine to bring the work-7 ing inhabitants of the county more into touch with modern methods of life. The Duchess of Sutherland and Mr. Carnegie are contributors. and in Wales for getting up a testimonial to Mr. Roderick Macheod. the well-known- vocalist, in consideration of his great services to Gaelic by his rendering of Gaelic songs. Dundee Water Committee is prepared. to give an augmentation supply of water to St. Andrews for 6d. per 1.0.00 gallons thereafter, the annual minimum payment to be £250. on condition that they lay a pipe along the 'l‘ay Bridge- and between Wormit and St. Andrews, which will cost about, $13,000. Craigie Works, Dundee, belonging to! the estate of the late Mr. William Gib- son, jr., Dundee, were exposed for sale- publicly. The establishment consists of a jute mill and factory, with ponds and warehouses. and was purchased at 1110' upset price of £20,000 by Mr. J. K. Caird, manufacturer, Dundee. A proposal is on foot for union be-â€" tween the North and East United Free churches in Kelso, the opportunity for such union having occurred through the- resignation of the charge of the North church by the Rev. John Watson, M.A.,. who recently accepted a call to return to mission work at Amoy, China. The engineering department of the Edinburgh University has just moved into new buildings, which have been equipped in the most modern manner. The cost has been defrayed by the Uni- versity Court from the Carnegie grant. Part of the new laboratories consists of‘ the old High school buildings at High School Yards. The final meeting of the Hugh Miller Centenary Committee, formed three years ago. was held a few days ago. The institute erected in Cromarty as the result of the centenary movement was handed} over to permanent trustees- along with the endowments. Including Mr. Carnegie's' gift the sum of £1,800 was. raised by the committee. Lieut.-Gcneral Sir Ian Hamilton, K.C.B., D.S.O., unveiled the memorial to the officers and the men of the- Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders, who fell in the South African war, which has been placed in St. Giles' Cathedral, Edinburgh. A guard of honorcf 50‘ men, with the regimental colors and the- band of the regiment from Dublin took part in the ceremony. The death took place on the 16th inst.,. of one of Glasgow's oldest medical prac- titioners, Dr. James Gray. who passed away at the age of 86. Dr. Gray, who- was a member of the Faculty of Physi- cians and Surgeons in Glasgow, was- born and brought up in the city of Perth, his father being manager of the Perth water-works. About ten years ago he- practically retired from active business. _____.+_.___... MA NY MISSING HEIRS. Several People in America Among Those on Whom Fortune “’aits. During the year just closed a large- number of inquiries for missing heirs, legatecs, relatives and other persons who- may hear of things “greatly to their ad- vantage," have been made by kinfoiks, lawyers and Chancery officials in the: agony columns of the English press. There are a great many people, many of them, doubtless, hard up, for whom money is waiting in London. They have only to claim it to get it, but they don’t know their luck. The London Times the other day pub- lished the annual summary of a well- known claims’ agent of those on whom good fortune awaits. It is impossible to tell just how many of them may now be living in America. but the following are speciï¬cally referred to as having been last heard of there: C. G. Salmon, who left for America in 1893. is entitled to leasehold property; . R. liook, who went to America from England in 1878, is among the beneï¬ciaries sought; .i. A. Miles, -who emigrated to America ’n 1879, has something due him from his father’s estate. The heirs are wanted of James Stuart and Marie Milion, whose daughter left for America in 1862. Wil- liam Puget, who lived in Wandsworth before he went to New York, is sought that. he may learn of “something to his advantage,†and Richard Cave. who was employed as a printer in a newspaper office in 1801, is wanted for “something greatly to his benefit.†Among the per- sons inquired for by order of the courts of‘chanccry are Thomas and Mary Bail~ lie, formerly of Liverpool, and last heard of in America in 1826. Money is due to certain shareholders in the West New Jersey Society on whose stock no divi- dends have been paid since 1692. John E. Finlayson is wanted for an estate in America. Robert Bridgman, who is said to have deserted from the army whilo stationed in Nova Scotia in 1882, may benefit by making his address known. Possibly there may be some relatives in America of George L. Wilson. who re. cently died intestate,‘ leaving an estate valued at $.?5,000. This is the biggest windfall of the year awaiting claimants. Arrangements are being made in dif- '5 forent parts of Scotland and in England ‘ '1