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4e* .. ~_,.. cal designing. | The worst of it is I‘ve never got over my respoct for good clothes. Lots of women who come from ?ime towns, where 7 ”_yotbn are n badge of x:elpecubilibty, pros g0. e perity or disceputable poverty, fall into * eosmopolitan waysand say : ‘Oh, nobody 4 knows me ; it doesn‘t matter ‘how I look,‘ But I can‘t. I must have good gloves and + shoes, or I feel that I‘ve lost my last vestige ,, _ of respectability, and honesty. I believe, if I ever get to the point where I can‘t have these things, I shn.!)lolnse my selfâ€"respect. I believe in clothes. I think a new set of rfice > elothes will transformâ€"the character of & man or woman. .ed facility of concealment smokeless pow: der confers on the défence. â€" It is urue that the latter also profits by the same increased Em of “Jnl, but they argue that from, e nature lhm.‘h defence, striving onlypto prevent beaten, whereas the attack fights with the determination to win, the latter is in a position to make far better ase>of this new powder than the former. Put in another form, it comeg to this : The heavier and more.accurate the fire whistling over a treuch, the hérder it is to make men w their hoads over itâ€" to: take aim. okdles powder.makes it easior for the attack to deliver such a fire; hence ths difâ€" fculties of the defence will be increased. Further, in the‘ absengq of smoke, men itationary on the defence caunot escape the depressing influence of the dead and wound > od I{ing around them, but the attack leaves all these evidences of .the fight behind it. Bo here again the advantage is on i'u side. LCY T M Nooe ce on od With ;:lennoa}.o the question of the use of smokelees powders by the artillery, the general idea seems to be that it was all a in to the side wh‘ h tho?ht more of killâ€" E( its enemy than of avoiding being killed. \tself, . It enormously facilitates the mainâ€" }enance of fire discipline within the battery, permits of continuons fire even at the most rapid rate, for no.smoke interferes with the laying of the gune, and, above all things; cheers the hugtol the men .bfiy enabling them to see the results of their fire. * As a means of concealment it is of no use at all, for even at éxtreme ranges. of 5000 yards and upward the flash of discharge in always distinctly visible, and at fighting ranges the Aash enables one to note exactly the position of the enemy‘s guns. This was not always possible with the old powders, for the smoke obscured the object and pire: vented one‘s picking up an exact point‘to aim At. besin-,mfim‘bthibgflaf an" Fnaian‘s crait and natural keenness will be needed on the part of staff officers. . Smoke has been so good a cover on many occasions that its abâ€" sence will impose new conditions, and na: tural cover will have to be much more exâ€" tensively utilized. With the vanishing postry of the smoke battle the prose of a new era will begin, in which combat will be more like a game of chess ‘in view of the pieces as a whole, and new dispositions of old qualities and virties will be wanted. Caution will pay in a smokeless combat, enterprise and vigor will=win as before, but blum{:rl wili receive a terrible punishment, fatatâ€"toâ€"armies and ruinous to nations deâ€" vendent upon them. © "Is it possible to dress on $50 a year?" was one of the questions discussed at a working Girls‘ Club lately. ,One of the girls said : es *©1‘ve done itâ€"good reason why, though â€"I‘ve had.to. Iv‘e had considerable hustâ€" ling at times to get even $50 a year since I came to‘ Gotham to take a course in techniâ€" "How do I manage ? Well, just like everyâ€" thing else, 1 had to. I studicd it up, made |/ an exact ecience of it. If you think of trying |â€" it, the first thing to be done is to get a little |â€" account book‘; write a few ‘maxims on the flyâ€"leaf, and live up to them. Buy nothing but standard goods for your dresses ; cashâ€" meres, henricttas, flannels, serges in solid colors sre always in style. glly a rich woman can afford noveltics, Your dresses will haye to last you three seasons and be made over once at least, perhaps twice ; so you see if you, buy striking colors or plaids, however pretty, they . will be gennine antiques the third season and â€" give â€" you _ a _ hopelessly dowdy look. _ Be a girl.of three dresses, one for the streot, one for the house, and one for nice. One new dress a year will keeg‘you in three. Make up your mind to skip bargain sales. Buy your things between scasons; you can get a winter cloak in December or January much cbeaper than you can in October, . A good heavy short black cout, which bught to last for two seasons, may be had for §1o or $15, spring coat ditto, only as to cost, which lhoul(f not exceed $6. Tt pays to bay pretty good ‘shoes. That‘s an item that‘s hard to regulate. Some people wear out more shoe leather: than others. ‘One pair of heavy shoes and a pair of ties last me‘a year, (Gloves make an awful hole ; tvwin kid at $1.25 a pair, two pairs silk â€" at 50 cents, woolen, lisle thread, lace mitts, $1.50 â€" As to hats, my limit is four. I manâ€" age to get thein all out of a ten, but I make them myself. A supply of under#ear will last for two years at loast. I hope you won‘t think I put that question in t.g: bas ket, but I‘ve got a little list of last year‘s erpenditures, which may be interesting. Here it is: Four hats, $10 ; gloves, u.fls: shoes, $5 ; winter coat, $10; making over dress, $5 ; new blue henrio'g.:, $11 ; balance for underwear, laces, otc., $4.50 ; total $50. The following is from the address of Mr. William Twaets‘le of Walton, N. Y., before the Cheviot Breeders‘ Association: ‘"In meeting with the Cheviot Sheep Breeders‘ Association, I cannot but recall many of the Bohnnt associations of 117 younger days. tn in Scotland, not far from the Cheviot Hills whence this breed of sheep derives their name, my father being a shopherd in Sootland, and, having charge of some 500 Chieviot sheep, his house being located away back lm among the hills was surrounded dail with the sheep of which he had charge, { me that the first livini:rmture 1 ever :v uh&of t;&ve:::u? where I was born. was a al ) ! grew to != im owz:, so= ta follow my father ntund:r‘r: his flock on the Ghnco?h hills, I became so much qesocisted with the -husu to amost think we were relatives. . The Cheviat breed of hag been aésociated with, the . Cheviot i}fipm time immemorial, Afl’hey‘ EoSE h C OP e e s d toumd their way dver a large portion of t).o"mth of Swtlni and the nofl:’:l Bn ‘ and, . They have been sent to Naw-«lnhps, Australia, and to feed on the native grass |:v- wpon the mounitains of Borneo. we been :l:pd to Canada and the y nave Shoh uols to stand the cmoftion have been able to s the condition of climate, and in ov::r gase have been & und profit as well," re is ahything a.un‘,.u a. kind .: gluss wherein beâ€" _h..mn'hm froe but their own, which is the chief rearon To. Shet hiod revepuion Iamems with in the On Fifty Dollars a Yea* The Oheviot. The Weston Times WITH IRON .WILL Weeks passed away. It f‘. a bluk.‘ gulty night."~Ihad settled af Wakeringâ€" ad, in fact, become the village doctor, if a practitioner without patientanay claim the title. I was seated in mybmhair, smokâ€". ing an afterâ€"dinner pipe, but in no very cheerful frame of mintf. I had caught a chill, haying been constantly on the river, in .ti‘w of adverse weather, the last few weeks ; as I sat in my study, in a feverish depressed condition, all sorts of dark thoughts filtered through my brain. In the midst of my sombre broodings the sound of wheels on the highâ€"road caught my ear. Presently there was a 'ttuu at the gate. I“ron"gu"tckly and looked out. I‘t, Plooenen t l o2 was Colonel Hethersetus carriage. . A strong iuclination seized me to go out and answer the gateâ€"bell. . But I hA(T the prudâ€" ence, though conscious of a (Luickened pulse, to restrain my ardour, . I threw myâ€" self back in my chair;â€"took up‘ a book, and merely glarced round abstractedly when my man came in and handed me a note.‘ 1 broke the seal without hasteâ€"for my serâ€" vant‘s eye was still upon. meâ€"and‘rédd dn follows ; " Come at once.â€"SyBtt HetiErâ€" SETF. I found her standing on the hearthrug beâ€" forethe fire. She was alone, She came forward, when the door closed behind me, ‘with evident agitation. Her hand trembled as 1 tookâ€"is in mine. She looked lenrehhr ly into my face. _‘ You are ill. He told me you were. How thoughtless of me to have sent for you! You ought never to have vemtured out on a night like this. â€" I might have come to you." * When the time comes for me to dis, ‘Toâ€"morrow or some other day; If God: should bid me make mpll{. ~*‘ What would‘st thou I" 1 shall say, "0 God, Thy world was great and fate, Yot give n{e to torleot‘l clean, $Nor vex me more with things that were, And things that might have been ! ‘‘I loved and toilod, throve ill or wellâ€" , 1 wa‘ ill 1 felt that the fever had increasâ€" ed, as well it might, since T had quitted my firesides But I did my best to hide it. She took my hot hand in hers and led me to the sofa beside the hearth. I think I should have fallen but for her aid. T: sank down, and again asked her, "*What. has happenâ€" ed ?" But alphough, as I could see, ‘ there «was great anxiety to speak with me expressed in herface, she took noheedof my question until she had placed some tea on a little table beside me and had handed me the cup. © And now,",said Sybil, * I will answer our question." My father assured me that ,Ke ghould return in good time this evening., It is past eight o‘clock ; the last train went by au hour ago If he had come by it, he must have reached home before now. It is scarcely twenty minutes‘ walk from Wakering Station." . fu > % 4 ‘©Would he walk ?" I could not help thinking of the lonely road that led by the fields to Wakering, Hall. * Did not the carriage go to meet him ?" _ + * No. He was mt sure by which train he should come. _ And he gave strict orders â€"and you know what that meansâ€"that the carriage should not be sent. He has an odd preference for walking home at night." C e o B oo eee e o tm n it e I was seriously |lunrmed, but made a strenuous effort to hide my srowin suspic« ion from her. *‘ Have you," said %,: withâ€" out unyrlhow of eagerness, ‘‘ any‘ special reason for being anxious *" . 3 e d Lived certain yun'rnd murmured not. Now grant me in v.b:fi.l’nd to dwell, Where all things lorgot! "For others, Lord, the purging firem The loves reâ€"knil, The on the palm ; For me, the death of all desires In overlasting calm." . You know," she answered, with eyes now raised earnestly to mine, ‘‘you know that a ‘langer threatens him; youw know that what happened ten years |foâ€"when ‘your;kill'\uuf devotion saved his lifeâ€"may happen again. He never speaks to me of: this. I dare not speak to him. But I am convincedâ€"as convinced as if my father had spokenâ€"that Kenrick still overshadows his life." y "Kenrick ?" said I, unable to suppress my surprise. .‘ That man‘s name, then, Miss Hetbersett. is known to you?" YOL IIL. She answered in a quiet tone: * I was at Cawnpore, and in the house, when my father gave way to his passion. I recollect every dgetaiil of the affair. I was nine years old at the time. And when, three yeats later," she added, â€" ‘‘that dreadful attempt was made on his life, everything was plain to me. I was then at school, in France ; and when I was told about itâ€"And told what a mysterious affair it wasâ€"I said nothing. It was yo mystery to me. I knew who had struck the blow ;{ knew it as cerâ€" tainlyâ€"as if I had witneuox:l‘ the"lcene. #* , im oo ie naenel Sybil‘s manner was still selfâ€"possessed ; and as I looked into her face I thought I recognised something of her father‘s unâ€" daunted nature reflected there. _ I‘now rose, though still showing no sign 1 of haste ; for I would not needlessly alarm her ; though the feeling was growing strong within me that I mi*hb be losing precious moments _ She now left her chair, and com:â€" ing quickly to my side, placed her hand upon my arm. _ ‘‘Stay a" moment longer," said she ; "I have something to teli youâ€" something about this man." _ Again she paused, expecting no reply. _ But it was only momentary. â€" She went on in a quickâ€" er tone. . ‘‘My father‘s face tells me everyâ€" thing ; nothing escapes me, I believe, that passes through his mind. And his face now tells me that no power can prevent a meetâ€" ing ; it tells me that the day is not far disâ€" tant." Her look and voice expressed the tonfidence she felt in every word she now spoke. _ ‘‘It is inevitable," she resumed. ""I read in his face that no oneâ€"neithor you nor Iâ€"can turn mg;hthsr from his purâ€" pose. Not that has lno_vog a hager, m;ng these ten years, to find the man. He would never do that. But Kénrick is creeping near, with the h?l_of s&in. Mn oR oi n C my father unawares: My father knows this, and is on his guard ; and in bis atrange, lnl%;:wyle. feels a certain rhnuro in S. situ , ~Lâ€"am sure, at least, that he wonld never step out of his way to avoid & meeting." _ , _ _ o oi Her words confirmad my worst tuspicion. The encounter between these two men must sooner or later come, I could no jonger hide mlnshncc to take my leave and go in Search of Sybil‘s futher, | ".___ .. ___ t Sybil moved tawafds the window, raised 1 the curtain, and looked out .A few nights ," said she, almost in a whisper, as m‘h there were fear of being overheard, : 1 passed the limekiln in the carringe with my father, I saw a man standing there v{»\hli‘b\npn him. I could not see his faoe, but I read in my father‘s face who that man was," I did not stay a minute now, I told het that I would return whhin the hour, if atl that I proposed to do (Alws to the limekiln that 1 Iaiimch how ift 1 on " w hile meved it vhe drawingâ€"room at Wakering Hall sympathâ€" ont into the night. Tt --!':;9 I was well on the road BY THOMAS ST. E. HAK®, The Last Desire. he done in an hour‘s time. I went CHAPTER IL I could not help hlnslvhhSybilhm distress I was less mindful oldl‘ayu& But vhondfl::nld vhd" swopt about an t against my Kotfil:ukyl, I h-(-rw shiver from head. to. feet, though sensible ‘all the time of a burning fever within me. _ ___ _ _ _ I was approaching the limekiln fire. The light was thrown across the road with a stronger glare, as it appeared to me, than on the night on which I first passed this ‘u{. I nw&pod for a moment ; I tried to collect my thoughts; I tried to put away the swarm of odd fangies that crowded upon me and threatened to conquer my betâ€" ter judgment. If anything in my manner or speech should rouse Kenrick‘s lul&ioionâ€"- 1 for I had thoughts of confronting this man â€"if‘a look of dread escaped me, as I feared it might, the chject I had in view might be de I crept towards the limgkiln fire, keeping out of the path of light, until the héat scorched my face» I then knelt down, and leaning cautiougly forward, looked about me whileâ€"shading my eyes with my hand from the _ intense g{n,i‘a * The | great furndce door stood wide open. The kiln teing builb up in\ the low hillâ€"side, the higher hills in the dark background above looked all the darker ,â€"with the blue transâ€" parent flames appearing and disappearing at the tf‘erture, or chimney, with theâ€"grim untarthliness of a witches‘ bonfire. _ Down. below, in the quarried space in front of the furnace, sat Konrick. lP:vu bending down . quite near him, so neat, that b‘z stretching out my hand I could have touched his arm, He was smoking a short clayâ€"pips, resting his elbow on his knees, and Yo’oking intentâ€" ly into the dull quivering glow. . What could he see to gaze at so fixedly in that redâ€"hot, gigantic gile oi wood and coals 1 rThere was a weird, haunted look in his faceâ€"a look that brought anew terror to \my thoughts. 20. Pn ian ‘There was only one thing to be done. Wakering Station could. be ‘reached in a tow minutes ; there was ashort cut across the fields, I at once determined to go there and tele%rnph to a friend: in ‘London andâ€" sawait his replyâ€"a | friend . who knew Colonel Hethersett, and th> most likely man to furnish news of him if still in I toun%he tolegraph clerk busy at the wires. , en I had_written out my mesâ€" sage and handed it to him, I expressed my intention to wait for an answer.. He.looked at me‘through his little square window with a hslf-glunc: of recogni'}on: ** Won‘t you step ingide, sir?" said he. .‘ There ain‘t much of a fire," he added apologetically. * But the waitingâ€"room is loci:d up ; and itls cold and windy enough out there to cut oneh to pieces. . You‘ll find the door on your right." . M eme n e en ncty I sat down by the fire in the telegraph office.and tried to take a more hopeful view of the situation. I began to imagine that ‘the answer was on its way ; and that the lengthy . pauses, which now took place, expressed a suspended power of volitionâ€" that the téJegraph~clerk was too terror: stricken to complete the message on nc::f:‘;mt of its tragio significance. Xg becanie inâ€" tensely excited. I watched the clerk with a feverish sense of certitude that by studyâ€" img his face I could interpret these electric sounds, I was on the point o!n;a_klng him to â€"confirm or dfilflm c B when he began to write, wibh’ndeE'bention that almost drove me mad, upon a telegraph form. This paper he at last handed to me." The words ran as follows : * Hethersett left London in dogcart at nine." * â€" ‘Tickâ€"tickâ€"tick. He was busy again working at the wires. _ + _ _ _| fllijg’l;lige‘d at the clock ; it was on the stroke of ten. It would baio little more Once more I started across the fields.. The way was dark, so dark, that To attempt running was out of the question; for there was a geop ditch on either side of the narâ€" row path. . And as I walked/along, uppini my stick in front of me, like.a blind man, kept my e{eu wide opz ; Imy éars too for the possible sound of (Jolonel Hethersett‘s dogcart along .the highâ€"road. More thait, once I stopped to listen and to look out ahead for the alightest glimpse of gigâ€"lampé in the distance. than an hour for an expert driver like Col onel Hethersett to reach Wakering Hall. . Stay ! «What light is that ? And surely I can distinguisn the sound of wheels upon the road." It must be theâ€"dogcart; no one but Colonel‘ Hethersett would drite mt that reckless pace along a country highâ€"road on so dark a nig%:t, with : no “31(«! for miles,â€"except the ghost of one at the cross:roads on Wakering Greew. Yes:; I can see the gigâ€"lamps ?hinly now, and they look like great blinking orbs flashing out and in, as tl_ae trap 'spina llong, ing by trees and hedges and other obâ€" re.c.t.‘ tgnt are frequently black screens beâ€" tween us. _ And there is still a broad field to cross before Iâ€"can reach the highway ; and beforé L can even run over the ground the dogcart will have passed the ltif: that leads out upon the road. ‘ I skout in a loud, distractedâ€"voice : * Stop !" I have attracted "his‘ attention ; he brings the trap to a standâ€"still. But I now begin bizur& to repent having : raised my voice. For I sée the reflected light of the limekiln fire right ahead in the night ; and I know that m{ shouting _will invo reached Kenrick‘s sharp ear. He will see the dogcart ; for Colonel Hethersett is stopâ€" ping at the limekiln. ‘They will meet face to face. C ul Te I have no distinct recollection of how, either running'; "IH‘]’;: or stumbling, 1 gained the hifi way. I did gain it, and in an amazingly short space ot time, for as I sank down exhausted at the stile, which nearly faced the limekiln, I saw Colonel Hetherset Eullinq in rein just within the path of light that always streamed across the road ; at the same moment I saw Kenâ€" rick start up from the ground witliin resch of the do{urt, raise his arms, and nnght- enhis back, as if nurv_i.n(.h_fin!ul!_ fgrnop ng. * Hold my horse," said the Colonel in a firm voicé, as he flung the reing across the animal‘s back, . ‘‘Don‘t standâ€"staring there. My name is Hethorsett "â€"< _ think I don‘t know you * ~ «*I‘ll not dispute it.â€" Hold my horse." 1 «* Do what?" said Kenrick ; and glancing savagely about him, he selected a stohe the size of his great fist, and hurled it at Coloâ€" nel Hethersott. The stone, 3{"( within an inch of the Colonel‘s head, dropped into the hedge beyon® _ _ _ y _ From the â€"51;{;_‘ where I had sunk down against the stile, the whole scene was visible to me in the light of the limekiln fire. The iron door was wide opap, as I hid seen it an haur ago. and th:mtahdh:gn struck nbnrqi.*dfln“tnid glare struck Kn)&-am:;l:" re as though mfi\fighh awak :‘:firm Colonel Hethersett had tisen from his seat in the n‘pu‘dvntcpph‘doh.:!‘ruutmn lnst his oyes were -xww---n‘- face, No movement him. ; ® _ Why ‘did you ory out?" said the Colonel sternly. Â¥ .'v.suA""‘m'"qg. XYou cried ont 'm.m " k-rletâ€"'-ndnhli. 1 " No+? And yet the voice same from this yearter," satd the Colonel: ** You ~heard it ; didn‘t t .nmfiur. I conld see . both their faces distinctly mg wuppressed rage and fear. . Is it 1" interrupted the man. .‘ Do you AND_COUNTY OF YORK HERALD, wWESTON. ONT. TPHURSDAY, AUGâ€"11. 1892 Colonel Hethersett‘s look determined, > p ‘* Kenrick," said: the Colofie] â€" in a quick tone, "‘the time has mrflo settlement between us. It is now yoargâ€"â€" Ah ! you have not forgottem : I know that. For twice since then you have made an atâ€" tempt on my life : in Smithfield ten years ©§0, “é ,‘fll!d-l"h&:’ o+ 12 ns y PW D e PR . Kenrick made no reply ; but I could see that the Colonel‘s dauntless mauner, his stern voice, and P“.mm look, were beâ€" ¢Inn‘!‘n¢ to assert their wence ‘over the man! A "Now listem to me, : Yom brought upon yourself the Pnnhhncat I gave you," said the Colonel, ** by disobeying my orders. ‘ If you did not learn a lesson then, it is time you" learnt it m.u hen I drow nf‘{hn a minute ago as you to hold my horse, you nluué. f _I,pa‘;\.rln&h give you one chante more,.‘ he added. **You say you didn‘¢ call out to me to stop, Some one did ; and I am ‘going to satisfy myself instantly on this point. Iam going to make a search along the raad. You‘ve a lantern, I luprou,? Lnd it yo ine.": ‘ . Still no reply : no movement on Kenrick‘s part. a & **Haveâ€"you a lantern or not?" > * Â¥es ; one or two, I reckon." Lend me one," repeated Colonel Hetherâ€" sebh ........... Y : Kenrick besitated still ; but it was only. for a moment. There was something in â€"Colonel ‘Hethersett‘s whole attitude that appeared to bring the man suddenly to a better sense of the situation. He crossed over to the hut, went in, and slammed the door angrily behind him. ‘The Colonel paced slowly up and down: always within the light of the fire, and always with his look directed toward the hut, . Presently the little round window brightened, as if returning his glance ; and a moment afterwards Kenrick came out Janternâ€" in hand â€"**Thank you," said the Colonel. * And :bw. ;(enrick," he added, * laok after the orse." ~ :. v s â€" & He took the lantern and ‘turned uuge; and for the first time, since this moetins > tween them, Colonel Hethersett relaxed his watch upon the man. _ He stepped across the road, and soon caught liyht of me lying helpless by the stile. %Ie lifted me tenderâ€" ly in his arms as h% would have done ‘a child. * Sherwin, my dear boy ! Why, how M e tt . I can recollect seeing Kenrick leading the horse towards the spot. I have a dim reâ€" collection ofâ€"being in the dogeart with one .of Colonel Hethersett‘s arms clasping me s¢â€" â€"curely ; and I have a dimm-r‘rectfilection stillâ€"of the limekiln fire luddenlAy og out, as though an extinguisher ha Len put upon it. I remember no mare. ~ > > came you here _ And then there came a semiâ€"consciodunasa, of distracting dreams that redurred a thouâ€" sand times during a night that never had an end. â€" It fell di:& upon my senses that I wul:‘lXing within L{ne limekiln fire with heaps of redâ€"hot coal on every side threatening to consume me ; and all the while Kenrick was looking atâ€"me with stolid ayes ag he smoked his p:r aud tacitly refused toâ€"drag me out. At other times the telegraph wiresat Wakeâ€" ring Junction Were passing through me with the centralstation in my head, which beâ€" came overcrowded with messages.. A These feverish ‘ imagt nings‘ andaâ€" handâ€" red others at last passed away, and less startling ones fellinto their place. . Once more I ?nund myself in the heart of a cerâ€" tain wood, where a stream was flowing beâ€" tween high banks into a large river beyond. I was lying in a boat and looking down into this stream, ‘and a face was looking up into mine.. Yet there was no blue skyâ€"no cluster of leaves,only the face ; and this face gr,ldusll[&qog the Llhnpe ot Sybil‘s face in uooo ies oo e t ::;;fi brain.~" But there was no look oi laughter. ‘The eyes were filled with tears, amft!h_e cheeks were pallid and thin. "Sybil 1" . f « The sound of a sweet voice touched my senses, "Hush! E:will go andâ€"tell my, father"â€"â€" * _‘ No. Tell me! Am }Awgke o drum-‘ ing *" Ilifted my heavy "éyelids like one coming out of a déep sleep and stared perâ€" P‘@seflq.y about me. . .. _ . a 4 * He bronahLyonl:éro Phowg oT NU * Last_night *" ‘*No. It will be three weeks toâ€"mor i { es an tqgeamed to be + I couldnot speak. A misty to filthering bétween her face and mine. She eld a cup to my lips. I drank a refreshing draught, and then sank back upon niy pilâ€" lows into a dreamless sleep. _ 5 When I awoke it was night. . The window curtains were now closely drawn, and I heard the wind whispering in the park outside. There was no light in the room expect from the fire. . In an armchair, drawn up in front of the hearth, sat Colonel Hethersett. _ _ _ Knowing this man‘s character as I did now, his manlinese and tender nature, I félt that to exrren in words my .sense of gratitude would be ‘to lower_myself in his esteem. Tt had been my pri;il:lgo. ten years ago, to save his life. . He now saved mine. i * Tt seemed to me as though I was walking. into a new worldâ€"as I lay here contentedly watching the chnnsing lights and shadows upon fll'_'?"l, and ,_lilhnh:' to.the redâ€"hot cinders falling with a. soft metallic ring. Abd if L was reminded of the limekiln fire ahd.the terrors it had roused in my mind, there was no sense of dread awakened now. For I read in Colonel Hethersett‘s face, as he sat pv-derinithcroâ€"-u Sybil bad doubtâ€" less read tooâ€"that all fear of danger might be dismissed from our minds. s Ha ing to pas#thelimekilnone night, a monlg or two after my recovery, 1 -otfeod a -tnwo watchman standing there. ‘ ‘‘Where is Kenrick ?" said I. * Overseer up at the Hall.‘ . ‘?n Colonel Hethersete‘s property ! ‘Yes.‘ I was not lurlprh.d at this news; for although the Colonel managed every one with iron will, I never knew aâ€"more generâ€" ous master. And Kenrick ved an exâ€" cellent servant. So long as tm lived, he and the Colong] never exchanged another angry word. f â€" The autumn sgkin cam: round. One sultry afternoonâ€"an afternoon never to be forgottenâ€"I was walking with Sybil in m«hg ruk and by the riverâ€"side. * Is it only a year?‘ she was saying as she Tapporâ€"* S a don! m‘ ik “:--r-a:egz-::u’g_,' e wore odimg imreugh is shite «* What do you raise on ols 1oo much Mmbn Sunday Headwork. The Remarkable Case of Mr. John W. Condor. > A Helpless Cripple For Yearsâ€"Treated by the SA of the Toronto General Hospitâ€" a} and Discharged as Incurableâ€"The Story of his Mirnculous Recover 388 l-v‘w by an Empire Reporter. Toronto Empire. s For more a year past the rsaders of the Empire been given the ‘particulars of some of the t remarkable cures of the 19th century, r nearly all of them, in cases hitherto held by the most advanced medical scientists to: t incurable, . The g.rtic‘:hr:;f these "itere c:oul;h.d‘ for" y such leading news re as the Hamilton %pecul.or and T?:lu,p"fife Halifax Herald, oronto Giobe, Le Monde, Montreal ; Detroit News, Albany, N.Y., Journal; Albnn{ Express and o'.{\en, whose reputaâ€" tion pl loadpbeyond question the statem®nts made. Recently rumors. have been afloat of a| remarkable case in the prettv little town of | Qakville, of a young man recovering after | years of Relplessness and agony. The Emâ€"| pire determined to subject the case to the | most gisj;l investigation, and .accordingly detailed one of our best‘reporters to make a thorough and iimpartial investigation into ‘the ‘case. Acting upon these instructions | our reporter went to ‘Oakville, andâ€"called upon Mr. John W. Condor (who it was had so miraculously recovered) and had not long | been in conversation with him when he was, convinced that.the statements made were not o:.g true, â€" but that *‘ the half had ‘not ‘been told." The refiorur found Mr. Condor at work 1 one of the heaviestâ€"departments ofthe Oakville Basket Factory, and was surprised, in the face of what ‘he knew of the case, to be comfronted by a strapping young fellow of good physique, ruddy countenance agd buoyant bearipg. ‘This now rugged young man was he who. had spent a| great part of hisâ€"days upon & uicr-bed. suffering aimost untold agony: â€" When the Empire â€" representative announced . the })urpou of his visit Mr. Condor cheerâ€" ully volunteered a statement of his case for the benefit of other sufferers. . "I am," maid Mr: Condor, ‘‘an Epglishman h{ birth, and came to this country with, my parents when nine years of :lge, and at that time was as rugged and healthy as any boy of my age. f am nowâ€" 29° years of age, and it was when about 14 years old that the firstâ€" twinges of inflamâ€" matory rheumatism came upon me, and during the fifteen years that intervened heâ€". tween â€"thatctime and my recovery a . few months ago, tongue can hardly tell how much I suffered. â€" My trouble was brought on, I think, through too frequent bathing in | the cold iake water. The joints of my body. |‘began to swell, the cords ofâ€" my legs to |tighten, and the muscles of my Iiu%fl to contract. ~I became a helpless cfip&e con: | fined to bed, and for three mont‘hs d no't. leave TX room. The docter who was callâ€" ed in administered preparations of iodide of potassium and other:remedies without uny material beneficial effeot â€" After some months of suffering I became strong enough to leave the bed but my limbs werestiffened uf‘{ was unfitted for any active vocation. | , I than hampered more orâ€"less for the | , tollowing nine years, when I was again | , forced to take to my. bed. * This attack was | , in 1886, and was a flrbfit deal more severe ]l than the first. y feet, ankles, knees, | legs, arms, shoulders, and in fact all parts l ‘ of my frame were effected. ° My joints |, and â€"muscles became badly nvol{an. and \1 the disease even reached my . head. My |i face swelled to a great size. I was unable to open my mouth, my i'nw- beinE fixed toâ€" | gether, I, of course, cou d eat nothing." My | teeth were pried apart and liquid food pour:| . éed down my throat. I lost my voice, and | could speak only in huikgewhilperl. Re ly, I am unable to describe the state I was| in during those long weary months, With| my swollen limbs dnymt:g the tightening cord&up. to my: emacia body, and my whole‘frame twisted and contorted into inâ€" describable shapes, I was nothing more than a deformed lkerbon. For three long wur‘ months I was confined to bed; after which: was able to Eot up, but was a complete ihy-i- cal wreck, obbling around on crutches a helpless cripple. My sufferings were conâ€" tinusll{cinm“, and frequently when I would be hobbling along the street I would be seized with a paroxysm of pain and would fall unc‘pnsciom to the ground. During \ all this tie I had the. constant attendance | of medical men, but their remodiei“‘wei'el unavailing. . All they could do was to try to build_ up my system by the use nf! tonics. In the fall of 1889 and spring of 1890 I again . suffered intensely severe atâ€" tacks, and at last my medical attendant, as m last resort, ordered me to the Toronto General Hospital. I entered the Hospital on June 20th, .1890, and nmninedmtgen until September 20th of, the same year. \ But, notwithstanding all the care unx atâ€" tention bestowed upon me while in thisinâ€" stitution, no improvementâ€" was noticeable in my condition. After using every availâ€" able remedy the hospital doctorsâ€"of whom there was about a dozenâ€"came to the conâ€" clusion that my case was incurable, and 1 was sent away, with the understanding | that I might remain an outside patient. Acâ€" cordingly from September 1890 to the end lof Junuary 1891, I went to the hos pit once a week for examination and treatâ€" \ment. At this stage 1 became suddenly | worse, and once more gained admission to the hospital, where Ilay in a misérable sufâ€" fering condition for two montlis or _ more. in the spring of 1891 I. returned to ‘Oak; ville, and made an attempt to do wmethini‘ . | toward my own mpyort.. I was given ligh 8 work in the basket factory, but had to be â€"| sonveyed to and from my place of labor in | a buggy and carried from oho:s to a tabl | in the works on which I sat performâ€" § ed my Work. In Angust, 1891, I was »gain stricken down, and remained in , ( an ntterly Mlthn eofitin until Janâ€" u{nury 1802 AH.!'; u:.:d C J-mux,’:vw | druggist, str urged me to . Wi * inmE’iPink m- for Pale Po:;{o. I was s pnludiced against proprietary medicmes j | as huliglntmulym lmn-d on | numerous highly recommended‘ soâ€"called AN OAKVILLE MIRACLE, 1 the better. My appetive returned, my fl“"““‘w use of my musoles and limbs, the old trou« the remedy. antil I had need ing any bad effects. Iplay baseball in the Tore Wiy 1 hat therganing toe c vaay ys. y I feel like lor _ v ;fly at the relief from abject misery I -:7 lered so long. Mn{uumol yed for death to release me from my -ulrn:ml, but now that is all gone and I enjoy th as only he can who suffered my for years. I have given you‘a brief ou of my sufferâ€" ng#, but from what I have told you can guess the depth of my gratitude for the reat remedy which has restored me to gulmu:d lr.nng:h. l Wishing to gubstantiate the truth of ‘Mr. Condor‘sremarkable story the Em‘x'in repreâ€" sentative called ‘upon Mr. F. W. James, the Oakville ‘druggist referred to aboye. Mr. James fully corroborated the state: gunu of Mr. Condor. When the latter had rst taken Dr. Williams‘Pink Pills he was smcui' l%clov.onâ€"- wrocf of humithy. The e of the town bad long given him u Yoe:?u good . as dead, l-b5 would hnd’ ly believe the man‘s â€" recovery until dxoy saw him themselves. . The fame of this cure is now spread throughout the section and the result is hn enormous sale of Pink Pills. * I sell aâ€"dozenâ€"andâ€"aâ€"half boxes of Pink Pills every day," said Mr. James, *‘ and this is remarkable in a town the size of Oakvillé. And better. still they flve‘_‘ perfect @atisfaction." Mr..Jamesr ecalled numerous instances of remarkable cures after other remedies. failed. Mr. John Robertson, who lives midway between Oakâ€" ville and Milton, whoâ€"had been troubled With asthma and bronchitis for about 15 Â¥url, ‘has.been cured by the use of Pink ills, and this slhr};hyllcin.n had told him there was no use octminwrthbr. Mr. ‘Robertson says his appetite failed comâ€" ;l-ulgl but after taking seven boxes of ink Pills he was ready and wwiting for each meal. He ’nfna-' gards his case ‘ms a re martabla®nna â€" Inâ€"fact Dr.Williams‘ Pink markable one. . In fact Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills are recognized as one of the greatest modern medicinesâ€"a perfect blood builder and nerve restorerâ€" curing such diseases as. rheumatism, nenu{fiil, pertial paralysis, loâ€" comotorataxia,St. Vitue dance,nervoushéadâ€" ache, nervous gro-tntion and the tired feelâ€" ing resulting thereffom, diseases depending upon humors in the blood, such as scrofula, chronic erysipelas; eto. Pink Pills restore gale and sallow complexions to the glow of ealth, and are a specific for all the troubles peculiar to the female sex, while in the case of men they effect a radical cure in all cases arising from mental worty, overwork or exâ€" cesses of whatever nature. â€"â€" â€" e The Empire reporter also called '\mon Mr. J. C. Ford, pmprigft'og&h. Oakville Basâ€" ‘ket Factory in which Mr. Condor is employâ€" ed, Mr. Ford said he knew of theâ€" pitinble condition Condor had been in for years, and he had thought he weuld never recover. The cure was evi4.r.flr & thorough one for Condor.â€"worked steadily at heavy labor in the mills and lppmnt}y stood it as well as the rest of the employees. Mr. Ford said he thought a great deal of the yonnf man and was pleasedat his wondrous deliverâ€" ance from the gnve and his restoration to vigorous health. .. An order to still further_verify the. stateâ€" ments made by Mr. Condor in the above inâ€" terview, the Reporter on his return to To: ronto examined the General Hospital record aud â€" found therein the entries: fuily bearing out all Mr. . Condor had said, thus luviufi no doubt that his case. is one of, the most remarkable on record, and all the more remarkable because it had baffled the skill of the best ph;n_ioilnl in Toronto. .. uie hait es ‘These pills are manufactured by the Dr. Williams‘ Medicine Company, Brockville, Ont., and Schensctady, Is..Y., andâ€"are sold in boxes.(never in loose form by the dozen or hundred, and the public are cautioned .gdu& numerous imitations sold in this shape) at 50 cehts a box, or six, boxes for $2.50, and may be had of all druggists or direct by mail from Dr. Williams‘ gadicine Company from either address. Theâ€"price at wg:i:h these pills are sold make a ,course of treatment com‘mntivaly inexpensive as comipared with other remedies or imédi¢al treatment. & > ‘* Do tell me just how to cook a ham," said an inexperienced housekeeper toafriend who was no&i for her culinary knovlodie. "I have looked in four cookâ€"books and I can find nothing 'phin and aimple enough for my Birdy to follow :â€"t.huzolll assume that the hatn is bgiled or half boiled when they proceed to treat it‘in more elaborate fashion â€"and I haveâ€"not an‘idea how to begin even. I have bought my hatiâ€"I know evough for that, and I know what are the .but hams in the market. Now begin and tell me just what to do with it until it is ready to serve cold on the table." 4 "fls l;wv:r%";imph," said her friend, *‘ but I know it is as {on say ; it is just the simple, obvious knowledge that it is hardest to find written rules fér. | First, soak your ham ail night in water which should cover it antinlÂ¥, ‘Then set it on the fire to boil. The rule for boiling a hatn is fifteen minutes to each pound, so you can easily tell by weighing it the exact lenit.h of time that it will‘h necessary to cook it. When it is half boiled change the water, and to the last boiling add a cupful ofâ€" molasses. When it is done set it to cool, and when it is cold enough, skim it and put it in the oven to bake until the whole is nicely browned ; some people sprinkle it before putting it the J: with brown sugar vmh foruuh: gort of glaze. _ _ _ . 2 n te d ‘"This is the simplest way ‘ of oookhs u" ham, and there is none better"in my estimâ€" ation; but there are all sorts of facts about . what will give it various peculiar flavors, and many are the suggestions for the last boiling. Some epicures cook it in chamâ€" e just at the last, others in hm;'-nl glt with cloves. _ An old southern once had, had a 'tydwmifism whole ham after it was skinned with a olgw made of flour and water and then ig it in the oven to bake. Thisnhdh;d conâ€" fined all thé juices to the ham, and the reâ€" lnlu she obtained were certainly delicious." Mr. J., owing to the jealousy of his felâ€" ma-m.-c-ng:bi-nl to many petty anndyances. day his enemics thought they had hit on a plan which would amuse them and add to J‘s distomfort. So, vhl..fiflthol-tnm.hu another came up and said to in a tone of horror : _ < _ _ * T. 39 t Titeoing qichy Tork tow " ie 3. mt Mateming auintly for a few e en e ie o en o sB t C on e ie is everybody, got off his stool and ‘slipped | . 1f we work npon into the manager‘s office. . if we work br AM*--!ziy_-!-!fl_flrQ:{!:ssgs_ day, so you must ( amongst you until "Why what is the thatter with you ? uTh lt c t " As Mr. J. is so M Teoly ‘Turned the Tables Upon Themâ€" How to Oook a Ham, able NO gures of 0 and of 8. PeOul, MEWD HM CU0+ T RERTEY OOE ing a vine, St. Francois P Assissi and even \m»unqmmuimh ‘pbonhhr.uhdy.lh.?h s l’w.m!l .htflodusfiumd ann :'uuw&’p- them do not fail to do ) the makers of them do not fail to do to saintâ€"wito was_the country w of good customers and is the subject of many of their orders. ‘These " manufactured in great halls,. rualireds of workmen ate employed i. | Among these men are to be > &,mmmm-oâ€";fi_ Beaux Art and the J Academy. ‘They are well rfid, nome of them receiving as high as $10 per diem and few less than $5. Enchon’onutmphhn,uumthhu establishment than the one that regularly employs him, and everything that he exeâ€" cutes 1):1 uu.go&kmn is the of his employer. Very often an intelligent and O P ul in o en d nA ul w wei‘â€"taught sculptor will be p-t_;hhhnd, of n»h.n, ohmlr:ry workmen, whose opér: ;::iau he is called upon to superintend and rect. f Notwithstanding the limited number ‘of subjects, the varieties of type are endless. Take, for instance, the personage that is most _fgeqn;ant.lx_ n‘p:-enudâ€",nqaly ch: Pm en o m e C n Holy Virfli:. Thedifferent expressions and gesturés towed on the images of the "lfii'vix;o Mot:lo‘r are Coi:wnodv:ll)ly n\:.moroul.. he Immaculate ception alone is repreâ€" sented in thirty different ways.. Her vestâ€" ments are sometimes white gordend with gold, or clée figured. with gold, in imitation of brocade, or her robe may be white and her mantle blue studded with gold stars or she may be garbed in the traditional blue and red of Italian painters, &c. Muzhcare and ‘-Hll are e:fi:nded in this painting, which has somet] the effect of an illumination. on a lngsjufo. Generally the effect i;lgoo&. f not too glaring and actually tasteful, the artistic sense of the French nation interferâ€" ing to prevent any coarseness of color or roughness of execution. An exception , to this rule is found in the statues executed for South America. > ‘ We must," remarked the inullifi:nt. sfoyrint.or of the huge mum!fiw?, **have ue consideration to the wishes of our cusâ€" tomers, and go, for _Gled South .Am;_orioc: for «Do we ever execute similar orders for‘ Fraice? No; evenin‘ the provinces our sriuu have no inclination for such gayly ecked statues. . Sometimes weare requestâ€" _ ed to make the ‘reds and blues of the gerâ€" ments and the gold of the ornaments as bright as go-ible, to flrlx impress the unn?; inations of country worshippers, but that is . all. â€" Our work, in fact, is in a state of conâ€" tinual artistic progress. . The productions . ~ in this line in Italy, in Austria and even in Belgium, . used at one time to sutipass anyâ€" thiné'.hn we ‘could do. But singe we have called in the uolg of serious and cultivated artists our models are far superior to any .‘ others to be found in Europe. ‘And when one of our models strikes the public: taste we are called upon to produce, not hundreds but thousands of copies... Then we do not confine our productions to these lifeâ€"sized works. . We manufacture, in addition, statâ€"â€"~ uettes of all dimensions for workmen‘s clubs, for bedrooms, or for private oratories. .. en Cns n d xc * There recently -mcnd in one of the organs of the ultraâ€"Catholic party in France a violent attack against the types of our statues, calling our angels effeminate, our Virgins consumptive &o., &e. But I think that these severe criticisms were unfounded. Evidently ‘these attacks would hardly gain admission to the Salon, but neither in proâ€" portions nor modelling nor in coloring is there any violation of the rules of goot taste, except, of coursé, in the instancas, that I have just signalized. _ And in so exâ€" tensive and widely :i.-nunahd .‘l:lnc of popular production that negative q ity is nds'ot‘ent value as tending to educate the people into & better appreciation ofart. A city board of health has issued some excellent rules for the care of infants in summer, inelndipl dix:gct‘.ione what 0: do in -:::xu, ukess "T'i."'fi EUmpUOSS t eme cies whic ways alarm a mother, ..T',: which she so .J:- knows the nflht thin&t.o do. Rule 1. If the child is suddeniyâ€"attackâ€" ed with vomiting, pur and prostration mdfof.doém"s?o:;.hmb-lfl- pnttbochildtngthvufll‘t.h.hhlb, then carefully wipe it dry with a wiatin wv-lndmpithvumhnhh. If its Hands and feet are cold, bottles filled with hot water and wrapped in flannel should bhi‘dq-hn them. â€" Rule 2. Anuh'm&nnmmdod fiax seed meal, to one I-rutpn of mustard flour has been 5 or flannel wrung out of hot and water should be placed over the t e on i ug . Rule. 3. Five drops of brandy in a "teaâ€" Opoonf-ldnur-s'yh gm every ten ow Alteen minutes; but if the vomiting poni-ufivofin'erndthulma tnilk lime watet." * 1. Rule. 4. If the diarrhes has «it ied aiepn on ie .ro-ma(mdl.n the spiced syrug of thubarb should be given, __Rule, 5. nmmh-h-w on the breast and partly on other 1 3-»&&‘-.1&‘--0-'!--‘. the child has been weaned it should havi pure milk with lime water or beef tem, or chicken water. |_â€" c« "== .009 100 2C ‘Rule. 6. The child should be allowed t drink cold water freely. eR ~‘Rule. 7. The soiled dinpers or the dis charges should at once be removed from the rsom, but saved for the physician to ew amino at A man in love can do more ThoiBaby in Hot Woeather 68 # Mn tat