= them stewed cherries. gradually, add milk {Re Ai AEE h, MON Buy REDPATH in Original Packages and you'll be sure of full weight -- highest quality -- absolute purity. ar) i TREAL: : . 5 AND, 2-LB. CARTONS MONTREAL, Seasonable Dishes. : dttle Citron Puddings.--Beat the yolks of three eggs; add two ounces of sugar, one tablespoonful of flour, and- gradually one-half pint of cream. Stir in two ounces _ of citron, chopped fine. Put in in- dividual cups, grate nutmeg over the tops, and bake in a quick oven. Chopped nuts may be added to the citron if desired. Cherry --Pudding.--Buiter stale slices of sponge cake and pour over Serve. cold with creamy sauce. Oreamy Sauce ~--One-fourth cup butter, one-half cup of powdered sugar, two table- spoons milk, two tablespoons cherry juice. Cream butter, add sugar gre and cherry juice drop by drop. Use care in adding liquids so that the sauce will not curdle. ringue, Hither fresh or stale cake can be utilized in this way. Some- times for a change use a layer of jelly, or stewed fruit between the bread or cake. For the Housewife's Scrapbook. Two cups--One pound. Four cups. pastry flour--one pound, Three and seven-eighths ¢ips whole wheat flour--one pound. Four and one-half cups graham flour--one pound. Two and three fourths cups corn- meal--one pound. Four and one-third cups rye meal --one pound. 4. P cups finely chopped meat-- one pound. Two and two thirds cups oat-meal --one pound. Four and three fourths cups roll- ed oats--one pound. : One and seven eighths cups rice --one pound. Two cups granulated sugar--one pound, Two and two thirds cups powder- ed sugar--one pound, Three and one half cups confec- ¢ Foolish Young Man: Or, the Belle of the Season. CHAPTER XII, Ida walked home through the rain very thoughtfully: but not sadly; for though it was still pelting in the un- compromising Lake fashion, she was half conscious of a strange lightness of the heart, a strange brightness in her- self, and even in the rain-swept view, which vaguely surprised and puzzled her. The feeling was not vivid enough to be happiness but it was the nearest thing to it. And without realizing it, she thought, all the way home, of Stafford Orme. Her life had been so secluded, so solitary and friendless, that he had come into it as a sudden and unexpected flash of sunlight in a drear November day. seemed to her extraordinary that she should have met him so often, still more extraordinary the offer he had made that morning. She asked herself, as she went with quick, light step along the hills, why he had done it; why he, who was rich and had so many friends--no doubt the Villa would be full of them-- hould find any pleasure in learning to herd cattle and count sheep, to ride about the dale with only a young girl for company. If anyone had whispered, 'It is eause he prefers that young girl's s0- elety to any cther's; it is because he wants to be with you, not from any de- sire to learn farming,"' she would have been more than surprised, would have received this offer of a solution of the mystery with a smile of incredulity; for there had been no candid friend to tell her that she possessed the fatal gift of beauty;, that she was one of those upon whom the eyes of man cannot look without a stirring of the heart, and a quickening of the pulse. No; she assured herself that it was just a whim of Mr. Orme's, a passing fancy and caprice which would soon be satisfied, and that he would tire of it after a few days, perhaps hours. Of course, she was wrong to humor the whim; but it had been hard to refuse him, hard to seem:churlish and obstin- ate after he had been so kind on the night her father had frightened her by his sleep-walking; and it had been still harder because she had been conscious of a certain pleasure in the thought that she should see him again. As she entered the hall Jessie came in by the back door with her apron full of eggs. "I saw you come in, Miss Ida, so I thought I'd just bring you these to show you; they're laying finely now ain't they?" Ida looked round, from where she stood, going through the form of drying her-thick but small boots against the piss log that glowed on the wide dog- ron. "Yes: that is a splendid lot, Jessie!" she said, with a smile. 'You will have some to send to market for the first time this season." "Yes, miss," said Jessie, deftly roll- ing the eggs in the basket. "But I'm thinking there won't be any need to send them to Bryndermere market. Jason's be- when they come: I never saw the last you ordered, you know!" He took the note with an assumption of indifference but with a gleam 0 satisfaction in his sunken eyes. "Didn't you?" he said. 'I must have forgotten. You're always so busy; but Y'll show you these, if you'll remind me. You must be careful of the money, Ida; you must keep down the expenses. We're poor very poor you know; and the cost of living and servants is very great-- very great." He wandered off to the library, mut- tering to simself, with his book under his arm, and the five-pound note gripped tightly in the hand which he had thrust into the pocket of his dressing gown; and Ida, as she put on her habit and went into the stable-yard to have the colt saddled, sighed as she thought that it would be nice to have just, for once, enough money to meet all the bills and buy all the books her father coveted. But her melancholy. was not of Jong duration. The colt was in high spirits, and the task of impressing him with the fact that he had now reached a respon- sible age and must behave like a horse, with something else before him in life than kicking up his heels in the pad- dock, soon drove the thought of their poverty from her mind and sent the blood jeaping warmly and wildly in her veins, She spent the afternoon in breaking in the colt, and succeeded in keeping Stafford Orme out of her thoughts; but lhe slid into them again as she sat by the drawing-room fire after dinner--the nights are often cool in the dales all through early summer--and recalled the earnestness in his handsome face when he pleaded to be allowed to "help her." She sat up for some little time after her father had gone to bed, and as usu- al, she paused outside his door and lis- tened. All was quiet then; but as she was brushing her hair she thought she heard his door open. She laid down the brush and stood battling with the sudden fear which possessed her; then she stole out on to the corridor, The old man was stand- ing at the head of the stairs as if about to descend; and though she could not see his face, she knew that he was asleep. She glided to him noiselessly and put her hand upon his arm softly. He turned his sightless eyes upon_ her, evidently without seeing her, and, fight- ing against the desire to cry out, she led him gently back to his room. He woke as they crossed the threshold, woke and looked at her in a stupefied fashion. "Are you ill, father? Is there any- thing you want?" she asked, as calmly as she could, "No," he replied. "I am quite well; I do not want anything. I was going to} bed--why have you called me?" She remained with him for a_ few minutes, then left the room, turning the} key in the door. When she had gone he stood listenimg with his head on one side; then he opened his hand and look- ed with a sunning smile at the five-| pound note which had been tightly | i | | haunted him, even while Maude Falcon- er, in all her war paint and sparkling | a look at her unobserved. 'Ever since he had left her yesterday her face had with jewels, had been singing, even in 'the silent watches of the night, when-- strange thing for him!--he had awaken- ed from a dream of her; he had recalled the exquisitely lovely face with its gravé yet girlish eyes, and he felt now, with a thrill, that she was even more lovely than she had been in his thoughts and his dreams; that the nameless charm which had haunted him was stronger, more subtle, than even his fancy had painted it. He noticed the touch of color just below her white slender column of a neck, and wondered why no other woman had ever thought of wearing a crimson tie with her habit. - "What a grand morning," he said. " don't think I ever saw a morning like this, so clear and bright; those hills there look as though they were quite near."" "It's the rain," she explained. "It seems to wash the atmosphere. My fa- ther says there is only one other place which has this particular clearness and brightness after rain: and that's Ire- land. There are the sheep. Now," she smiled "do you know how. to count them?" He stared at her. "You begin at number one, pose," he said. "But where is number one?' she said, with a smile. (To be continued.) os. : TRAMPING IN THE CAUCASUS. I= supe A Traveller Tells of His Experi- ences in That Country. The path of the pedestrian through the Caucasus and along the Black 'Sea is by no means easy. An anecdote by Mr. Stephen Gra- ham, that appears in "Changing Russia,' illustrates one of the many difficulties of such a trip. Meeting an aged peasant driving an ox team, Mr. Graham asked where the highroad lay. "There is no road," said he. I thought the answer to be stu- pidity, so I asked him in which di- rection Otchemchiri lay. By ithe last milestone it was only -- eight yersts distant. I could do that without a road if I could be sure of the direction. The man led me to his cottage, climbed on the roof, and bade me follow. Then lhe pointed out the di- rection. What was my astonishment to see at a short distance a river as wide as the Thames, hurrying on to the sea, "And where is the I asked. "T don't understand." : "Bridge, the way over." "Oh, the way over--there none." ""Cian I wade across?' bridge ?"' is ---- WHAT THE WESTERN PEOPLE ARE DOING. -- Progress of the Great' West Told in a Few Pointed Paragraphs. = Vancouver wanted to license its newsboys, and found out it had not the power. under its city charter. Victoria Harbor is now free from sea gulls, which have all gone north till the cold weather returns again. ter, B.C. The Building Inspector at Van- couver recommended that 19 build- ings in that city be condemned and torn down. Godfrey Haggan, the Revelstoke, B.C., Rhodes scholar, won a Cob- den essay prize at Oxford, which was worth $100. The steamer Elihu which left Vancouver for Nome, took with her 18,000 fresh eggs packed in 5-gallon oi] cans. Police of Vancouver are showing great activity in preventing Chinese from delivering and collecting laun- dry work on Sundays. Forest fires at Coquitlam and North Vancouver caused losses of over $300,000 in 24 hours. The fires were finally quenched by rain New Westminster "native sons" held a great re-union, honoring several surviving members of the Royal Engineers' Corps at a ban- quet. An order was placed with Van- couver firms for five and a half mil- lion feet of lumber, to be used in connection with the new dry dock at Quebec. Madame Ida Estey Newton, a prominent Vancouver musician, was shot and wounded by her husband, who then committed suicide with the same weapon. The Assizes Court Jury at Van- couver brought in a verdict of man- slaughter against Jack Kong, the Chinese who killed Mrs. Charles Millard and burned her body. Charles D. Donnelly, of Vancou- Thompson, NEWS FROM SUNSET. COAST! Fire almost. completely destroyed | the plant of the Royal City Lumber | and shingle mill at New Westmins- | PERFUMED i Cae Yj, OYE SS SS E SG » SS y yop We A S AWN aN i x @ THE CLEANLINESS OF SINKS,CLOSETS, BATHS,DRAINS,ETC. 1S OF VITAL IMPORTANCG TO HEALTH. sd t | | ; tWayL cD et SILLET NY LIMIT is Fences ant MONTREAL appeared before a policeman could be summoned. John Scott, a well-known Victor- ia, B.C., merchant, declared at a banquet that the time was coming when it would be necessary for the Government to appoint a rental commission, with powers similar to the Railway Board, to solve the rental problem in Canada, which at present, he said, was one of the main causes. of the present business depression in some places. SS ee KILL THAT FLY! Delieate Currant Pudding.--Ond one" § sugar--one pound. grasped in it. | just been telling me that the new folks - cup currant juice, one cup of water, split open, sired a wine glass and a half six tablespoons cornstarch, one- eighth teaspoon salt, one-half cup sugar, whites two eggs. Put the currant juice and water on to cook. When boiling stir in the sugar and ~ eornstarch, which have been mixe to a smooth paste with a little cold water. Stir until it thickens and then cook fifteen minutes. Beat the whites of the eggs until light and sitir into the hot starch. Turn into a cold, wet mold. Serve cold with a boiled curtard made of the yolks of two eggs, one and one half cups of milk and four tablespoons of sugar. Cream Cheese and Cherry Salad. --Make small balls of cream cheese. Stone cherries, cut them in halves and place a half-cherry on two sides of a cheese ball. Serve on hearts of lettuce with French dress- ing highly seasoned with paprika. Stewed Figs.--Mix half a cup granulated sugar with two cups cold waiter and stir over the fire un- til the sugar is dissolved. Then add the rind of a lemon, cut in thin strips and a pound of dried figs. Stew slowly for about two and a half hours. Remove from the fire, add the juice of a lemon and if de- of port. Chilland serve cold. Grilled Figs.--Soak dry figs an hour, dry them on a soft cl oth and Pat fiat with a potaito ~ masher or mallet, brush with salad oil, and broil over a clear, hot fire pieces. for a minute or two on each side. Shp on a hot dish, sprinkle with lemon juice and granulated sugar. - Serve immediately. Chicken Shortcake.--Use chicken that has been either stewed or fri- cassed; remove the bones and ithe skin, and cut the meat into small Warm it in a double boil- ~er, with enough gravy or liquor to moisten it. For the shortcake, sift two teaspoonfuls of baking powder with, one-quarter level teaspoonful of salt into one pint of flour. Rub into the flour one teaspoonful of ard and one teaspoonful of butter, then add three-quarters of a cup- ] of milk. Make the dough into a smooth ball, and roll it into the hape of around cake about an inch 'thick, Bake it in a quick oven fif ~ teen or twenty minutes, done, open one edge with a knife, and tear thedake apart, . Spread the bot tion. Phen replace*the- top, and pour tt avy over, all. Ry making pastry part in the foi nef bis- "iuits, the shortcake can be served in individual -dighes. : Feozen Fig Pudding.--This a delicious frozen fig dessert. To make it melt four tablespoonfuls of sugar in a saucepan and cook it un- til it is a thick caramel, like mo- lasses. but do not burn. Then add a cupful of water and boil until all 'the sugar is dissolved. Add two cupfuls of milk, a cupful and three- quarters. of granulated sugar, and the yolks of eight. eggs. Strain the -carame! into it and add a pound of dried figs, cut in' pieces not larger ~ itthy raising. © Freeze until thick Y ack in a mould. Put in 'and chopped ice for two anda hours. - Simple hiekén on is Bread Pudding.--Toast of bread a delicate sp of the stove, butter il place two layers in a small granite pan. Pour over this 'a pint of milk, sweetened and fla- ored, with one egg added. Cover and set over a moderate gas _ Experience soon teaches what degree of heat is required. It cook through in five minut s in fifteen minutes. If is: , when 2S Wien it is| the "lower por-} es | Two and two thirds cups brown sugar--one pound. Four saltspoons--One teaspoon. Three teaspoons--one tablespoon. Sixteen tablespoons--one cup. One wine glass--one half gill. Two tablespoons butter -- one ounce. Two tablespoons granulated gar--one ounce. 'Four tablespoons ounce, One cup stale bread crumbs--two ounces. su- flour -- one Things Worth Knowing. Slow cooking is the best cooking for children's food. Potatoes are more baked than boiled. To prevent milk from turning sour drop into it a piece of loaf su- gar. Do not leave a spoon in anything you are cooking; it conducts away some of the heat. The varnished street door will look like new if well rubbed over with a cloth dipped in paraffin. If the tops of pies are brushed | over with the yolk of egg they will | be brown and glazed when cooked. | To remove fine pin feathers when | dressing a chicken rub with cooking soda. They can be easily scraped | | wholesome | | | | | off. To prevent anything sticking to the saucepan when boiling, or the rouble of stirring, puta marble in the saucepan. When relaying the stair carpets put a pad of folded newspaper over the edge of each stair. This will lengthen the life of the carpet. When making coffee sprinkle a little salt on the coffee before pour- ing on boiling water, and the flavor will be wonderfully improved. Pocket handkérchiefs should be washed apart from other linen. As a rule they should be soaked, and) after soaking they may be sprink- led with a little salt. To renovate scratched furniture dissolve beeswax in turpentine, making it of the consistency of treacle ; apply with 'a woollen cloth, | then rub briskly with a dry of flannel. Tf you have a eracked hot | bottle do not throw it away, but fill }it wiih sand.and put it in the oven | an hour two before: bed-time. | You wail find you have a hot bottle | just es good as, and more safe than, one filled with water. This also | keeps hot a good bit longer than a jnew one. - If a ham to be boiled whole is first boiled several minutes in soda wa- | ter the skin will clean off bright and | clear; then rinse the ham well and, put back into clean water to finish | cooking. Meat that is close up to | spoiling can be sweetened by treat- | ing the same way, and all hint of} taint will disappear. / The correct way to boil -cauli- | flower is as follows:--©ut off the) greater part of the leaves and stalk, . rinse well, without leaving it in the, water, as this imparts an unpleas- | ant smell, Have ready a saucepan | of boiling water, to which a good quantity. of salt has been added, phinge in the cauliflower, and allow it to boil until it can be pierced | with a fork. Take out carefully with a spoon, and serve with pars- ley and butter sauce. Cauliflower ean also be baked and fried in the same manner as seakale. wh. Not in the Picture. Mr. Cyrus Green--Molly, what is that picture called in the cata- logue ? : Mrs. Green (reading)--Cows af- ter Rosa Bonheur. : Mr. Green--By Gosh! I see the 'cows, but where is Rosa Bonheur? piece water or | The Moscow hospital, the largest in Europe, employs over 900 nurses. \ gays » Mr. among | of up at Brae Wood have been sending all round the place for eggs and butter and cream and fowls, and Jason says that he can get so much better prices from them than from Bryndermere. He was thinking that he'd put aside all the cream he could spare and kill half a doz- en of the pullets--if you don't object, Miss Jda?" Ida's face flushed, and she looked fix- edly at the fire. Something within her protested against the idea of selling the dairy produce to the new people at Brae Wood; but she struggled against the feeling. "Oh, yes; why not, Jessie?' she said; though she knew well enough. } "Well, miss,' replied Jessie, hesita-| tingly, and with a questioning glance at) her young mistress's averted face, "Ja-| son didn't: know at first; he said that selling the things at the new house was different to sending 'em to market, and and that you mightn't like it; that you might think it was not becoming." Ida laughed. "That's pride on Jason's part: wicked pride, Jessie," she said. "If you sell your butter and eggs, it can't very much matter whether you sell them at_ the market or direct. Oh, yes: tell Jason he can let them have anything we can spare." Jessie's face cleared and broke into a smile: she came of a race that looks af- ter the pennies and loves a good "deal." "Thank you, miss!' she said, as if Ida had conferre a personal favor, "And thev'll take all we can let 'em have, for " "She didn't see it; no, si didn't see | oie he muttered; and he went stealth- | ily to the bed and thrust it under the | pillow. | | CHAPTER XIII, _ The morning broke with that exaquis- | ite clearness which distinguishes the Lakes when a fine day follows a wet one; and, despite her anxiety on her fa- | ther's account, Ida, as she went down-| stairs, was conscious of that sense of happiness which comes from anticipa- | tion. She made her morning tour of in- | spection of the stables and the dairy, | and ordered the big chestnut to be sad- |} died directly after breakfast. When her father came down she was relieved to} find that he seemed to be in his usual | health; and in answer to her question whether he had slept well, he replied in| the affirmative, and was mildly surpris- | ed that she should inquire. Directly he} had gone off to the library she ran up- stairs to put on her 'habit. | Her father was walking up and down) the terrace slowly as she came out, and he raised his head and looked at her ab- sently. ' "I shall probably ride into Brynder- | mere, father," she said. "Shall I post) your letters? I know you will be anx- ious for that one to the booksellers to go," she added, with a smile. His eyes dropped and he seemed dis- concerted for a minute, then he said: | "No, no; I'll send it by Jason; I've not written it yet;' and he turned away se her and resumed his pacing to and ro. they've a mortal sight of folk up there at Brae Wood. William says that there's nigh upon fifty bedrooms, and that they'll all be full. His sister is one of the kitchen-maids--there's a cook from London, quite the gentleman, miss, with rings on his fingers and a piano in his own room--and Susie says that the place is all one mass of ivory and gold, and that some of the rooms is; like heaven--or the queen's own rooms | in Windsor Castle." Ida laughed. | "Susie appears to have an enyiable ac- |} quaintance with the celestial regions and the abode of royalty, Jessie." "Yes, miss; of course, it's only what she"ve read about 'em. And she says that Sir Stephen--that's the gentleman as owns it all--is a kind of king. with, his own body servant and a- what thes"call him; it's book-case. "A secretary," suggested Ida. "Yes, that's it, miss! But that he's quite simple and pleasant-like and that he's as easily pleased as if he were a mere nobody. And Susie says that she runs out after dinner and peeps into the stables, and that it's full of horses and that there's a dozen carriages, some of 'em grand enough for the Lord Mayor of London; and that there's a head coachman and eight or nine men and boys under him. I'm thinking, Miss Ida, that. the Court'--the Court was the Vayne's place--'"or Bannerdale Grange ain't half so grand." "I daresay," said Ida. nearly ready, Jessie?" "Yes miss; [ was only waiting for you to come in. And Susie's seen the young Mr. Orme, Sir Stephen's son, and she that he's the handsomest gentle- man sit@ ever saw; and she heard Mr. Davies 8 one of the néw hands that ord waS a very great gentleman "the fashionable peopie in Lon- d that very likely he'd marry. the great ladies that is coming Myr, Davis says that a duchess wouldn't be too fine for him, he stands so high; and yet, Susie says, he's just as pleasant and easy as Sir Stephen, and that he says 'thank you' quite like a common person. But there. how foolish me! I'm standing here chattering While you're wet through. Do "ee run a---l forget a word like a "Ts the lunch St gz aor. one down, |up and change while I put the lunch on, | Miss Ida. dear." When fda came down her father already at the table with his was as she went to-her place. Now. as a rule, she' gave him an ac- count of her rides and walks, and told him about the cattle and the progress of the farm generally. of how she had seen a kingfisher or noticed that the trout were rising, or that she had start- | led a covey of partridges in the young wheat; to all of which he seemed scarce- ly ever to listen, nodding his head now and again and returning often to his book before she had finished speaking: but to-day she could not tell him of her morning walk and her meeting with Stafford Orme. : So she sat almost silent, thinking of | what Jessie had told her, and wonder- ing why Stafford Orme should leave the gay party at the villa to ride with her. Once only in the course of the meal did her father speak. He looked up suddenly with a quick, almost cunning, glance, and said: "Can you: let me Ida? I want to order some books. There's a copy of the Perey 'Reliques' in > the catalogtie I should like to. buy." "How much is it. father? she asked: "Oh: five pounds will do," he said vaguely. "There are one or two other books." ; Shé made a hasty calculation: five pounds was a large sum to her, but she smiled as she said: library." : . He looked confused then he said: "But not with these notes!. They're valuable. and the book is cheap." : "Very well, dear." she responded: and he went to the antique bureau and. un- ocking it. took a five-pound note from a cedar box. : He watched her covertly, with a pain- ful eagerness. for a moment, there, eh, Ida?' he remarked, with quavering laugh. "No: a very little one." ed. "Not nearly enough quarterly bills. But never there it is. You mus to pay ; Ida, | but the matter book open i at tis elbow, and he scarcely looked up* have some money, | "You are very extravagant dear. There | is already a copy of the 'Reliques' in the | these notes--not with | "J suppose you havea large nest eg a she respond- the mind, dear; t show me the books Ida went to the stable-yard on to Rupert by the aid of "mounting block'. from the Second had climbed, the white horse which figures in so many pictures of the Merry Monarch, | and rode out of the court-yard, watched with pride by Jason. . Before she had gone far he ran after er. "Ff you're riding perhaps you'd better eattlé shed there. William the roof's falling in." "Very well," she called clear voice. "Oh,_and, Miss Ida, there's a big stone washed out of the weir; ought to be put back or ' meadows above flooded this winter.' | She laughed and trodded, and put Ru- | pert to a trot. for she knew that while she was within hearing distance Jason would bombard. her with similar tales of woe. Not a slaté sid from the old roof of the Hall, or a sheep fell lame, was referred to her. She had resolved that she would not ride straight to the stream, and she kept up the hill-side, but her eyes wan- dered to the road expectantly now and again; but there was no sign of a horse- man, and after half an hour had passed a sense of her, It was quite possible that he had forgotten the engagement; perhaps on reflection he had seen that she was quite right in her objections ' strange proposal, and he would not come. A faint flush rose to her face, and she turned Rupert and rode up and over .the hill where she could not see the road. But she had no sooner got on top than she remembered that no time had been mentioned, or, if it had, that she had forgotten it. She turned and rode up the hill again, and looking down, saw Stafford riding along the val- ley in desperate haste, and yvet.looking about him uncertainly. Her heart beat with a quickened pulse. sending the de- licate color into her face, and she pulled up, and leaning forward, with her chin in her hand, watched him dreamily. He rode the hunter; and he had ' made a change in his dress; in place of tthe riding. suit.. which had smacked of ' London and Hyde Park, he wore a rough ; but light coat, thick cord breeches and 'brown. leather gaiters. She smiled as she knew that he had tried'to make him- and got}; the stone which Charles laughingly, to by West Hill, look at Says Miss the that back in her we'll have the to ,Sible; but no farmer in the dales had 'that peculiar air of*birth and breeding which distinguished Stafford Orme; air which his father had been so quick to detect and to be proud of. She no- ticed how well he sat the great horse, with what ease and "hands" he-:rode over the rough and treacherous ground, , Suddenly he turned his head and saw i her, and with a wave of his hand came | galloping up to her. with a smile of re- 'Hef and gladness on his handsome face, 'as he spoke to the dogs, who clamored {round him. ; "T. was so afraid I had missed you," he said. "I am late,.am I not? Some ple kept me after breakfast." You are not late: { don't think any time was mentioned,' she responded, quickly. though her heart was beating with a strange and novel sensation of | pleasure in his presence. "I scarcely | expected you." He looked at her reproachfully. "Not e€pect me! But why?" eee! thought vou might change | mind," she said. ' | He checked a quick response, and said ' instead: : | "And now. where do we go first? You \gee | have got a bit heavier horse. He's la present. also, from my father. What {do you think of im 2" oa | She eved him #f4Vely and critically. "He's nice-looking," she said "but don't like him so rode yesterday. Didn't I see him | just now, coming up the hill?" ; "Did he?" said Stafford. tice.. 'Po tell you the truth, i delighted at seeing you that I think I should have noticed if he tumbled on his nose.' "Oh, | sion at his candid confession. we go down to. the sheep ASE LY "Anywhere you. lke.' he assented brightly. "Remember, ['m your pupil." She glanced at him and smiled. "A very big pupil." ete i fe your | slip it wasn't much of a slip," "Shal afraid you'll add, 'a-very stupid one, before long." | As they rode I'm thinking it} disappointment rose within | *| main current. she said. quickly, to cover her slight confu- iMG." 'Ts it possible to swim?' "Phe current is strong."' : "How do you go to Otchemehiri ?" "Don't go." "What! Have you never been to Otchemchiri ?"' "Never." "But it is only five miles." The old man gruffly beckoned me to come down from the roof and stop babbling. 'And how do other people come across !"' "They don't come.' : "Hw long have you lived here ?" "Sikty-four years." "But surely in sixty-four years some people have crossed to Ot- chemchiri.: My map. shows an un- broken chaussee, a 'division one road."' My map made no impression on | the old fellow. He pointed to the inside of his house, and indicated that I could spend the night there with the pig and the chickens if I > ver, had $66 in his pocket when he| Claims Thousands of Victims in n re . co 1] . Y *9) ar ore =] a] was struck by a street car and made Summer. unconscious. When he recovered consciousness later the money was gone. Vancouver has a large number of tall men on its police force. Of a total force of 221, only 82 are un- der 6 feet. The whole force range in height from 5 feet 10, to 6 feet 6 inches. The Vancouver City Council au- thorized Mayor Baxter to demaad information from Great Northern Railway officials as to what they in- tend to do in connection with the proposed terminal, viaducts, etc. The British steamer Robert Dol- lar, took 5,000,000 feet of lumber from Victoria for Toronto, the lum- ber to be used in harbor improve- ment work in Toronto, There are 25,000,000 feet in all to be used, and it is expected that most of it will pass through the Panama ca- nal, Miss J. W: Carr, a clerk in a liked. As for people coming over, | there used to be a wooden way, but | it was washed out to sea long ago. I saw he did not know the Rus- | sian word for bridge, and that his| wooden way was the old bridge. I} asked where this had been. | My would-be host was not offend- ed by my pertinacity, and he told | me quite explicitly the way to where the bridge had been, Alas! it was as he said. I found} all the foundations of a substantial | | wooden structure, but no cross | beams--nothing on which even an 'acrobat could have made his way | across. I walked disconsolately along the |shore. It was a fine, broad river, | fooded by the rain, shallow at the ighore, but swiftly flowing over the jstones. Yet even halfway across were great stones not covered by lthe water. It was almost possible lto. step from stone to stone, to the I wondered whether, i after all, it were, very deep. As I | was thus speculating, I came to 4 i deep cart rut, and J saw at a glance 'that at any rate, in normal weather |earts found a fording place here. | 1 resolved to try what could be ldone. I undressed and stuffed my clothes' into my ¢apacious sack, | strapped it all over my shoulders, | and started on my cold, unpleasant, i | channel suddenly \cold; and at the point where I sud |denly went up to the waist in it, I Vancouver jewellery store, was in the store alone when a man came in and went round the counter to steal. Miss Carr got the jeweller's revolver and backed the man out of the front door of the store. He dis- absurd adventure. I waded where ithe current of the stream was bro- lken by stones, and after a hundred | yards I was only just above the | knee in water. Here, however, the deepened. The straight from the water, coming was. atrociously snow-covered hills, nearly resolved to turn back to the shore and spend the night with the aged man. Yet gasping and shiver- ing, I followed the lines of the rip- ples that showed the shallowest places, came once more into shal- lows, and reached at last the mgre solid slope of the farther shore, fhe current, although not powerful, was dificult to withstand, and at every step it threatened to bow! me over. One hour later I had walked some fresh warmth into my veins after the icy chill of ithe river, and I came to. Otchemchiri, found. its Hotel France, and ordered the best hot dinner they could give. > Summer is now upon us, and with summer comes the fly. Most of us treat him with a philo- sophic tolerance, regarding him as a normal, annoying incident of the warm weather. But he is more than that; he is really dangerous, a very active propagator of disease, par- ticularly deadly to young children. Whenever the summer months are warm the common housefly claims literally thousands of victims, the high rate of infantile mortality dur- ing the middle period of the year being due almost entirely to his ravages, The summer of 1911, it will be remembered, was-exceptionally hot. In consequence, flies were very lentiful, and the infantile mortal- ity in London, England, rose from a normal 173 per 1,000 per week to 636 per 1,000. During that year in England and Wales 38,647 children under two years of age died from diarrhoeal diseases, and it is safe to assume that a large majority of the vic- tims were inocculated by flies with the fatal bacteria; for in the fol- lowing year, when the weather was cooler and flies less abundant, such deaths numbered only 7,445. a ee Substitute Gallows for Sword. Although there is no movement in Germany to do away with :pital punishment, there is one in favor of substituting the gallows for the headman's sword employed in Prus- sia and several other German states. The reformers contend that, while it is almost impossible to go wrong with the gallows, guil- lotine or electric chair, it not im- frequently happens that the head- man "loses his nerve and botches his job."' An Unreasonable Demand. "T say. old man, you've never re- turned that umbrella I lent you last week." "Hang it all, old ) able; it's been raining ever since. man, be reason- " The man who kicks when he re- ceives short weight doesn't always give thirty-six inches for a yard. t the | { | | | | | I} well as the one you | | "T- didn't no- [ was so don't had | 1 | "But a very humble one," he said. "I'm down hill Stafford stole = For allsh self look as much like a farmer as pos-_' oes - Easy to use {