OR, GRAHAM THORNTON'S PUNISHMENT. Much -the elder Mrs. Thornton mar- velled at her absence, afid once when her carriage was ro'ling past the door of the liltie store she bade -her coachman -gtop, while she herself went in to ask if her favorite were ill. Miss Olivia's early call at Greystone Hall had never been returned, and now. she bowed coldly and treated her visilor with marked" re serve, until she learned why she had come; then, indeed, manner changed, but she could not tell her how, on the night when Graham Thornton had cruelly torn the veil from Maggie's rt, leaving it crushed and broken, She had found her long afler midnight out in the fall, damp grass, where in the wild abandonment of grief she had thrown herself; nor how in a calmer moment she had told her sad story, €x- oneraling him from wrong, and blaming only herself. for not having learned sooner how much she loved one so far above 'her, so she simply answered, "Yes, she took a violent cold and has been sick for weeks. Her mother died of consumption, and I'm very much afraid Maggie will follow her." "Poor girl, to die so young," sighed Mrs. Thornton, as she returned to her carriage and was driven back to Grey- stone Hall, where in a «cess of the win- w Graham sat, his arm around his wife, and his fingers playing wilh the curls of her golden hair. ul t dropped nervously at his Ww his mother startled him with the news that "Maggie Lee was dying.' fery wonderingly the large blue eyes of Helen followed him, as, feigning sudden faintness, he fled out into the open air, which, laden though it was wilh the per- fume of the summer flowers, had yet no wer to quiet the voice wilhin which told him that if Maggie died, he alone was guilly of her death. "But whatever I can do to atone for my error shall be dene." he thought at last, and until the chill November wind had blasted the last bud the choicest fruit and flowers which grew at Greystone Hall daily found en- trance to the chamber of the sick girl, who would sometimes: push them away, as if there still lingered among them the atmosphere they had breathed. "They remind me so much of the past that I cannot endure them in my pre- sence," she said one day when her aunt brought her a beautiful bouquet com- posed of her favorite flowers, and the hol tars rained over the while, wasted face, as she ordered them from the room, Much she questioned both her aunt and Bennie of her rival, whose beauly was the theme of the whole village, and once, when told that she was fassing, she hastened to the window, but her cheek grew whiter still, and her hands clasped each other involuntarily as she saw by the side of the fair Helen the form of Graham Thornton. They both were louking foward her window, and as Helen met the burning gaze she ex- claimed, "Oh, Graham, it is terrible. It makes me faint," and shudderingfly she drew nearer to her husband, who, to his|- dying hour, never forgot the wild, dark eyes which looked down so reproach- fully upon him that memorable wintry ay. Three years have passed away since th: time when first we met with Maggie Lee--three years which seemed so long {a her then, and which have brought her 69 much pain, She has watched the Bnow and ice as they melted [rom off the hillside. She has seen the grass spring up by the open door--has heard the robin singing in the old oak tree--has fli the summer air upon her cheek, She has reached her eighteenth birthday, and ere another sun shall rise will indeed be ree. "Oh, I cannot see her-die," cried poor liltle Ben, when he saw the pallor steal- ing over her face, and running out into the yard he threw himself upon the grass, sobbing bitterly, "My sister; oh, my sister !" "Ig she worse?" said the voice of Gra- ham Thornton. Je was passing in the strfect and had beard the wailing cry. Ben knew that in sone way Judge Thornton was connected with his grief, but he answered respect- fully, "She is dying. Oh, Maggie, Mag- gie. What shall 1 do without her? "You shall live with me," answered Mr. Thornton. ral "Twas a sudden impulse, and thinking the assurance that her brother shouldbe trus provided for would be a comfort to the dying girl, he glided noiselessly into the.sick-room. But she did not know him, and falling on his knees by her side he wert like a liltle child. "She was sleeping," they said, at last, and lifting up his head he looked upon her as she slept, while a fear, undefined and terrible, crept over him, she Jay so still and motionless. At length, rising to his . feet, he bent himself down so low that his lips touched hers, and then, without a word, he went out from her oa saa grief-stricken -and remorseful, he knew that 'Maggie Lee was dead ! The next day at sunset they buried her in jhe valley where the mound could al- ways be seen from the window. of Gra- ham Thornton's room, "and, as with folded: arm8 and aching heart he siood by . while they lowered. the coffin to ils resting-place, he felt glad that it was sd. "It will make me a better man," he Slowly and sadly he walked. away, go- ing back to his home, where, in a lux- uriously furnished chamber, on a@ couch whose silken hangings swept the floor, lay his wife, and near her his infant daughter, that day four weeks of age. As yet she had no name, and when the night had closed upon them, and it was dark within the room, Graham Thorn- ton drew his chair to the side of his wife, and in low, subdued tones told her of the fair young girl that day buried from his sight. Helen was his wife, 4 gentle, faithful wife, and he could not tell her how much he had loved Maggie Lee, and that but for his foolish pride she would perhaps at that moment have been where Helen was, instead of sleeping in her early grave. No, he could not tell her this, but he told her Maggie had been very dear to him, and that he feared it was for the love of him that she had died. "I wronged her, Nellie, darling," he said, smoothing the goluen tresses which lay upon the pillow. "I broke her heart, and now that she is gone I would honor her memory by calling our first- born daughter 'Maggie Lee.' "Tis a beau- tiful name," he continued, "and you wil net refuse my request." There was much of pride in Helen Thornton's nature, and she did refuse. for days and even weeks; but when she saw the shadows deepened on the brow of her husband, who would stand for hours looking out through the open win- dow toward the valley where slept the village dead, and when the mother, in pity for her son, joined also in the re- quest, she yielded; and, as if the sacri- fice were accepted and the atonement good, the first smile which ever dimpled the infant's cheek played on ils mouth, as wilh its large, strange, bright eyes fixed upon its father's face, it was bap- tized "Maggie Lee." Four years of sunshine and storm have fallen upon Maggie's grave, where now a costly marble stands, while the handsome iron fence and the well-kept ground within show that some hand' of love is offen busy there. In a distant city Ben is striving to overcome his old dislike for books, and seeking to make himself what he knows his sister would wish him to be. At home the liltle slore has been neally fitted up, and Miss Olivia sit. all day long in her pleasant parlor, fecling sure that the failthful-clerk be- hind the counter will discharge his duties well. Greystone Hall is beautiful as ever, with ifs handsome rooms, its ex- tensive grounds, its winding walks, its bubbling fountains, and its wealth of flowers, but there is a shadow over all-- a plague-spol which has eaten into the heart of Graham 'Thornton, and woven many @ thread of silver among his raven locks. It has bent the stately form of his lady mother, and his once gay- hearted wife wanders with a strange unrest from room to room, watching over th: uncertain footsteps of their only child, whose large, dark eyes, So much like those which, four long years ago, flashed down on Helen their scrutinizing gaze, are darkened forever, for litle Maggie Lee is blind ! : They are getting somewhat accus- tomed to it now--accustomed to calling her their "poor, blind bird," but the blow was crushing when first it came, and on the grave in the valley Graham Thornton more than once cried, "My punishment is greater than I can bear," But, He "who doeth all things well" 125 in.a measure healed the wound, throwing so much of sunshine and of joy around her who never saw the glorious light of day, that with every morning's dawn and every évening's shade the fond parents bless their little blind girl, the angel of their home. The End. ----- - & THOUGHT THEY LOVED HIM. Fellow Employes Were a Little Too Previous With Money. McClusky was the manager of a large warehouse in Glasgow, and he was in- densely disliked. One fine morning he announced that he had received a hand- seme. offer from an English firm and had decided to give up his Glasgow ich. His fellow employes collected a purse of sovereigns and presented it to him as a thank offering. "Weel, weel," said McClusky»as te tcok the purse. "This beats a'! I*niver thiocht ye likel me sae weel. But noo I see ye're a' sae lcse me, I think I'll no just stop whaur I am." He is still in Glasgow. a Tom--*Mamma, .Jet's move." -~"What for, dear?" ..Tom--"Oh, I've licked every ~boy in 'the street, and there's no more fun to be had here!" Doclor--"Madam, your husband must have absolute rest," dector, he won't listen to ma----" tor--"A a very sorry {o gang awa', but Noes a Mamma |! Madam--*Well, very eas beginning, madam-- The people heve, an. officeholding Public en loyment appeals to French vanity a7 fhe to.French A' man his. toes. in a public office will never of slarvalion. So the young people are deserting"the productive occupations to look for small jobs under.the Govern- ment. The boys want to be clerks or even ushers in place of taking up trades and the girls are deserting dressmaking and millinery. to beco teachers or telephone girls or typewrilers in pttblic offices, : State schools are turning out. regi- ments of young people annually ¢spe- cially crammed to fass the civil service examinations, The Senators and Depu- tie. are besieged by hordes of applicants flourishing their "brevets" or certificales of qualification. All sorts of wires, So- cial and. political, are pulled... hespres- sure is so great that new offices are constantly invented to make' places, and supernumerary clerks and typewriters and so on are daily added to offices al- ready overcrowded. In some departments, it is said, the force is so large that some of the em- ployees--the ones who have the strong- est pull--only come in once a week to brush the dust off the hat and overcoat thal they keep HANGING IN THE OFFICES. If a chief by any accident comes in and asks for them the other clerks--the ones who do the work--suavely reply that "Mr. So and So is somewhere in the building; there are his hat and coat." Nine times out of ten this ends the inci- dent; but if the chief shows a real de- sire to see the absentee a friend sends a messenger to find him. , . In 1846 there were only 262,000 paid officials in the country and 461,000 un- paid ones. These figures grew in 1858 to 340,000 paid and 489,000 unpaid. In 1873 there were 341,000 paid and 459,000 unpaid, the reduction in the latter being due to the loss of Alsace-Lorraine and the abolition of the empire wilh ils many honorary posts. In 1896 the paid functionaries num- bered 582,006 and the unpaid ones 462,- 000. The present figure of 650,000 paid fomplovees shows an increase of nearly threefold in about sixty years, yet in that time the popilation of France has made hardly any progress. The financial burden is enormous. The 262,000 employees in 1846 drew alto> gether about 868.000,000 from the fublic treasury. The 650,000 of to-day receive $194,000,000 in salaries and fees, Be sides this sum more than $40,000,000 is paid oul annually in civil pensions. By far the greater part of the money is paid out to persons in the medium grades. Next comes the class of low priced employees -- watchmen, office- boys, ushers and the like. One-third of all the public employees receive silar- ies less than $200 a year. One-half re- ceive from that sum "up to $1,000. Even men occupying high judicial and administrative positions do not get big y, with a few exceptions. Here are some of the LARGEST ANNUAL SALARIES PAID, figured into our money: The President of the Republic, $240,000 President of the Senate President of the Chamber of Cabinet Ministers Under Secretaries of Slate .. Prefect of Police of Paris President of the Court of Cassa- i 6,000 tion President of the Court of Ap- feals 3,600 Ambassadors receive $8,000 a year salary, but allowances for expenses of the embassy are added, ranging from $34,000 a year at St. Petersburg to $4,000 a year at Bern. Ministers Plenipoten- liary receive from $4.890 to $6,000 year, with varying allotments for ex- penses, The pay of Goverifors of colo- nies ranges from $15,000 for the Gover- of Indo-China to $4,000 for New Jonia. The chief clerks of the two chambers receive $3,600 a year, and the Senators and Deputies $3,000 each. Prefects of departments get on the average about $/,000; treasurers-general, $9.500; rec- tors of universities, $3.200, and the Grand Chancellor of the Legion of Honor, 8.000. There are alfogcther only 1,460 public officials whose, compensation amounts "to $3,000 a year' or over, It will be seen that the extravagance of the system is not in the units of pay. li is in the multiplication of unnecessary salaries. Some 'of the departments are especially overrun.. In the Department cf Commerce the bureaus are manned for the most part by a-chief, a depuly chief, a chief clerk and a copying clerk; that is all. Yel in the State savings bank administration one chief, unaided, directs a force of 126 employees. Taking central administration as a whole IN-A BOULEVARD CAFE, - who once gots die " Bs al ep fj 3 z elie eee There ig only one day in the year when every one is sure to show up. That is the day known in Parisian slang as the festi¥al-of St. Touche, a term which does not need transiation. | In a few of the bureaus where a chief with old-fashioned. ideas of discipline insists on a full daily attendance of his subordinates they have invented an €x- mé, They in a little cardboard box. Alternately they supply a leaf of cabbage. The Icaf is p al one end of a_ varnished table and the snails, each properly marked for idéntification, about four feet off. It costs a couple of sous to enter your snail, and the man whose re- presentative first reaches the cabbage leaf takes the purse. Besides, naturally, side bets are laid on the details of the race. --_--_--_ ___ Stttttt tt tts tattttt+++ About the Farm i BH444444444444444+4+4444 PROBLEMS OF THE FARM. As much money can be made by studying when, what and how to grow as by doing the growing. H you can- nol grow an acre of potatoes for less than $60, and get not over 100 bushels, kew can you compete with a man who can grow them for $32 per acre and gels from 500 lo 600 bushels? Potatoes, as well as all other crops, will scll for little more than the average"cost above the general average will' lose money. Side hills .and stony secfions;--where machines do not work~ well, covering the seeds with stones and the sprayer Ups over, should be used as dairy sec- licns, and the loamy, level fields which work as easily.as a~ehild's garden of sand should be saved for garden truck and potatoes, The gradual depletion of the soil and the costly substitution of chemical fer- tiization is reducing profits until tne prophecy is fulfilled: "Yo him that hath sl all be given, buf to him that hath not shall be taken away even that he hath." A poor farm growing poorer is a losing proposilion. The soil is rich enough in plant food for a hundred craps but it has been so misused and nusmanaged thal plants do not thrive itil. They are not starved but stunted by the condition of homes. If you mix soil from a good field «f biack loam with water and make a ctke, it will, when baked, crumble readily. Should you mix a cake from a ploughed field that has been cullivat- ed for twenty years, it would make a brick when baked. This is the difference between natural soll and artificial; the ene productive, the other seductive-- toking your profits. The principal dif- ference is caused by the decaying vege- tuble matter which keeps it in a favor- eble condition for the growth of plants. PRACTICAL POULTRY POINTS, Where only a small run is avitilable, keep only one breed, and make if the best by keeping only a few of a good laying strain, Do not keep more than twelve birds 'in a yard 30x15, and the house scraps will almost be sufficient for their main- tenance. Sjyeep up the manure each day, and there will be no need to fear discase. Unclean yards are not only an annoy- ance, but a menace, A dozen good fowls will furnish more eggs than the average family requires, and will, leave a surplus for pin money. Think what it costs to buy absolutely fresh-laid eggs. all the year round! When skimmilk is available give your tirds plenty, as it is rich in fleshform- ers. It also whilens and gives succu- lence to the meat. July chicks often begin to droop when aboul a week old. Lice under the wings and legs and large sores on tne Lead are almost always the cause, Rub im some fresh insecl powder, The shed floor on the ground is a good place to start July sitters. But make the shed rat-proof. Rats and skunks, too, are very active in mid- summer. : There are dozens of ways to break up sitfers;.bul the simplest is the best. Merely shut them into a small coop with slat bollom and sidcs;.an old berry crate will answer. Give plenty of waler. snd moderate feed. Let them al out three or four days later, but g@ an- other term to those who go back to the nests, No need of a cockerél in the if brody: mee: » FARM NOTES. very farmer should have a. good ten- ofa 1a prin lieve that domestication, try are slowly rising to this fact. It would almost appear, from the inions of farmers as , this plant is either rational or economical. The lower the prices of preduce, the more important it-is lo increase the yield in order to maintain the value of the gross return, and 'n erder to do this high farming is essen- tial. "High farming docs not mean ex- periment farming, or the application of costly manures without a full know- ledge of the results: which. they assist. in effecting; but it means rational farin- _ ing, Glean"land, thorough cultivation, and the provision of abundance of plant food. LIVE STOCK NOTES. Keep salt..where -the pigs can. help themselves to it; also provide charcoal and sulphur. These are great correc- tives, and hogs seem to know when they need them. If compelled to shut the hens up for any reason, do your best to make their surroundings as nearly like those out- sidé as you can. This means give them shade, plenty of good food, a chance to work for their living, and a supply of drink; sour milk, if you have it regularly. The fertitity of animals is frequent. ly influenced by changes in their sur-' roundings, and which in themselves! could not be considered unfavorable to! the healthy action of the system. It has! been observed that the procrealive pow- ers are impaired, or even entirely want-- ing, in many wild species when placed in confinement, From this we might suppose that domesticated animals are less fertile than wild ones. But this 's nal true. We must bear in mind t distinction belween confinement and The activity of the re- productive organs is dependent upon the function of nutrition which supplies tha materials concerned in their opera- ticn. Thus disease of the nutritive or- gans, or,sluggishness, caused by lack af proper exercise, as in case of con- finement, or a scanty supply of food, would impair the reproductive function. -_------ ~~ STRANGE PETS OF ROYALTY. The Kaiser's Daughter-in-law is Fond +f Monkeys:* There is a growing tendency among royal ladies of the courts of Europe to turbor strange and unconventional pets, says Herr Krisler, a well-known wriler on society topics. The Kaiser, it seems, does not approve of the fashion, for be has more than once vigorously protest- ed against his extravagant daughter-in- law, Princess Eilel-Friedrich's penchant for pet monkeys. At Potsdam she has a model monkey-house, conlaining no fewer than fourteen of these animals. One of them escaped a few weeks ago and wrought great havoc in the Imperial gardens before it was captured by the retired non-commissioned officer who is responsible for the welfare of the Prin- cess' pets. The beautiful Countess of Montignoso. whose unhappy marriage to the King of Saxony ended in her divorce, is said |9 seek for consolation at having been de- prived of her children in the extraordin- ary interest she takes in a number of American iguanas, which she feeds her- self. The Countess' vegetable bill for her pets is said to amount fo 100 marks a week, Another royal lady who has a weak- ness for lizards is the Duchess Vera cf Wurtemburg, but it is to chameleons that she is more particularly attached. While still a Russian grand duchess thie high-born lady indulged her fancy for these curious pets, and with them she created a mild sensation at Stutt- gart when, in 1877, ste was married. lo the late Duke Eugene, 'Duchess Vera is never tirede' watching her chame- leans shooting, at their-tongues to a length of six or seven inches. Princess Hildegrade of Bavaria, a daughter of Prince Rupprecht, received last month as u birthday present from the Hereditary Grand Duke of Mecklen- bueg-Strelitz a Persian lynx, or carn- cal, Which he had brought back with him from German Fast Africa. ; It is a handsome bright brown creature with uw long tail, and although naturally fierce in disposition, it. has learned fo jake meat direct from (he hands of its royal mistress, . . BR 'Her face fell suddenty fnd she gavo an exclamation of annayance. But 't was too lute to repine..-Her whole body accompanied her=face, "She had stepped on a banana-pecl! : A correspondent tells of a conversa~ tion he overheard disclosing a domestic tragedy which has not, up to now, got into the papers. Said one of the speak- érs.."Did you hear about that little boy in-xour road? He found his father's gun lying about, poked the muzzie in the boby"s face, and pulled his trigger." "How ghastly! How asvful,. Same old story, 4 suppose: No one knew it was loaded?" "It wasn't loaded." wis'