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v ‘ vuv-vv magiâ€"fro the stfidy: “"d the; 93113.0 b A >‘0 ’: ° '- ‘-‘ ‘LJ b“. O - -:.-- 90:-xflc Uuy mfg um nuu. “Inch “as dusky. because the vines {mug .low ove; the lintel, letting the light filter in green and soft across the thres- hOId. “When he saw the strange face he an forward to welcome her. He led a s, (lowered dressing-gown. and "He’s going to have his dinner in about fifteen minutes,” Mary said, sonny. She did not mean to have the rectory meals delayed by inconsider- ate people arriving at twelve o’clock, “And she’ll worry the life out of him. anyhow,” Mary reflected; Mary had seen too many tragic faces come to that (1091' t to recognize this one. ”Who’s fei’.’ demanded Dr. Lav- Then she went up the path between the garden borders; . she and Peter had walked along that. path. Oh. dear, she was beginning to cry! She could not speak to the minister if she was going to cry. She had to wait and wipe her eyes and let the tremor and swelling of her throat subside before she rang the bell and asked if she might see Dr. Lavendar. “Mother,” Pleasant. began, “one of my thoughts was, whose little girl would I be if you hadn’t. married faâ€" ther? Would I live with him, or would I live with you?; It’s very interesting to have thoughts like that,” said Plea- ant. "It’s very foolish,” Elizabeth said, sharply; and again the child was sil- enced. looking sidewise at. her mother, not knowing whether she had been naughty or not. Mrs. Day was pale, and her whole body tingled and trembled. How fa- miliar it was! The stone tavern with the wide porch; th'tt had been her window, the one in the. corner; she had sat there, in the painted rocking-chair, when Peter told her he wanted to marry her. And that. was the church; right beyond it was the minister’s house. She remembered that they had "Will you be quiet, Pleasant, and not get out of the buggy?” Elizabeth said. She pulled the weight from under the seat and fastened the catch into Cap- tain’s bit. He put his soft nose against her wrist. and she stooped, trembling, to pat him. It was nearly twelve when they reached Old Cher-stem. Pleasant. was qfiite cheerful again, and bubbling over with questions. walked across the green in front of the church to go to the rectory. It suddenly came over her, in a wave of terror, that. he might. be dead, that old man! She took out, the whip, and st ruck Captain sharply; he. leaped for- ward. and the jerk fairly knocked the breath out of Pleasant, who was in the middle of a question. Elizabeth felt. poor woman. that she could not hear one instant’s more anxiety: if he were deadâ€"oh, what should she. do? He had been an old man. she remem- bered. Captain went briskly down the street and Elizabeth was so weak with mis- ery and apprehension she could scar- cely stop him at the parsonage gate. “W by, my dear child, you’ ve just had some dinner. Still, there is more in the basket if you want it. You can eat it while Iget out and visit with the minister. You must he a. good girl. Pleasant, and “ait outside in the buggy. I’ll hitth Captain.” ”I’ll hold the reins,“ Pleasant de- clared; “he won’t try and run if you hitch him and I hold the reins. Captain is a good old horse - good Captain! good boy!” she continued, hanging over the dash-board to stroke his black tail. Captain switched it. with mild impatience, and Pleasant drew hack, offended; then tried slid- ing off the seat, “But the dash-board gets in the way of my knees,” she complained. Her mother did not no- tii-e her. The little warm body press- ing against her, tumbling over her, the sudden embraces, the bubbling words, the overflowing activity and restless- ness, were like the touch of foam against a rock. ' The horse started in asteady jogging trot, keeping carefully on the shady side of the road. A fresh wind had sprung up, and along the horizon a few white clouds had heaped themsel- ves in‘to shining domes, but the sky was exquisitely and serenely blue. The creek had widened into a little narrow river, deep and brown, and fringed with sycamores; men were haying in the meadows and in the orchards on the hill-sides, and the hot smell of newly cut grass was in the air. Elizabeth Day drew up before a mile- post, and leaned out of the buggy,try- ing to read the nearly effaced fig- ures. ”It’s only three miles more, Pleasant,” she said, breathlessly. ‘- “Shaâ€"lvl'we get sdme dinner in Old Chester?” Pleasant asked. With aux- iety. on pipe, from which a single spark- ling thread ot water fell into the great hollow log. They coul dhear some one whetting a. scythe in a field higher up on the hill. above the woodsL. nmphently. “Tell me a few of your thoughts. please, mother f” ".Oh my dear child, do be quiet” the mother entreated. "Oh, my God!" she said. under her breath. There was something in her face that did silence the child. to; a time at least. Eliza- beth drew up at a spring by the road- side. and brought out a lunch-basket and gave the little girl something to eat. She did not eat herself. but sat absently fle'cking at a weed with her whip. and watching Captain plunging his nose down into the trough. Plea- sant climbed out to get a drink, put- ting her lips against the mossy wood- ‘- A â€"A‘- The sunshine sifted down through} the thick foliage, and the yellow flowâ€"j er of the monkey-weed. just on the: edge of the trough, caught it, and glittered likeajewel. Captain stamped __.J vvâ€"vâ€" --â€"v__'_ -7- {Tune among the weft- stones ind mud, and pulled at the reins; and Elizabeth said, “Well, go ’long, Cap- tain.’ "Well._you £991” cried Pleasant, tri â€"‘ -A.‘ GOOD FOR THE SOUL. ‘ and. ”W! game nun. which was vines hung __ low “You want food," he declared, nod- ding his head; and called Mary, and bade her bring in dinner, and fetch the little girl. “Yes, you must have some food; the advice of one empty stom- ach to another isn’t to be trusted. Come! you'll feel better for a cup of tea." Then he stopped and put his veined old hand on her arm. “You haven’t the worst trouble in the world," he said; “be sure of that.” Afterwards she wondered what he meant. What trouble could be worse than hers? But he. said no more about trouble. He made his two visitors sit down with him, and he listened to Plea- sant’s chatter, and talked about his bee-hives and promised to show her his precious stones, and let her give his shaggy little dog Danny a crust of bread. 'lhen he asked her whom she u as named after. “It's twelve years ago next month. sir," Elizabeth said, and added where she came from, and, with a. little pride in her voice. that her husband was well known in Upper Chester. “Why. you must have heard of Peter Day!" she said. “I find it’s easier for me to give ad- vice than for people to take it,” he an- swered. good-humoredly: but now she did not even try to smile. “I’m in great trouble. sir; Iâ€"I thought you were the only person who could help me. I’ve thought of com- ing to see you for the last year." “N6; I don’t want any, air. I only wantâ€"" “Why, after mother!” said Pleasant, astonished that he did not know. “Mo- ther's front name is Elizabeth, but father said he named me Pleasant be- cause mother’s eyes were pleasant, and her voice was, and her face was, and herâ€"_u But Pleasant. exc1ted by the strange- ness of the occasion. could not be re- strained: she was bubbling over with informationâ€"Captain, and her two brothers, and mother’s garden, and father’s dog, Jim, that had a grave in the orchard. and a really marble tomb- stone that said, “Jimâ€"a good friend." “He died before I was born, so I don't remember him very well." she said; but father had given motheranew dog named Fanny; and he had given her. Pleasant, a duck. for her own. which hatched chickens. “And their own mother can’t make 'em swim !” Pleas- ant informed her bearer. excitedly. “Father said I mustn’t try to teach ’em. though I would just as leave. be- cause it would worry mother. \Yould it worry you. mother?" But Dr. Lavendar did not commit himself. He hoped Mr. Ely was well. And was that little girl in the buggy hers? Had she other children? And all the while he looked at her with his keen, twinkling brown eyes. “Have yon had any dinner ?" demandâ€" ed Dr. Lavendar, looking at her over his spectacles. ”Pleasant, you must not talk so much,” Elizabeth protested, muvh mor- tified. “My husband is such a kind man, sir. he says thinks like that," she explained. "Pleasant, dear, [ think you had bet- ter go out and sit in the buggy nowâ€"" “For fear Captain will run away ’2” suggested Pleasant, eagerly. CUL‘L -_ L 1‘ t5 -usu I“ WM ___.~ JV“ “4 ter,-oh, I thought I’d’ ask -I must do!" Dr. Lavendar wps silent. “I came to seve you," Elizabeth began, in a wavering voice, “becauseâ€"because I thought you would give me some ad- vice." fir. Lavendar' reflectéd. “Day? The name is familiar. but I don’t recallâ€" Let me see; when was it ?" w""Iâ€"shfipose you don’t remember me. sir?" she said. “I’m afraid I don't,” he confessed. smiling. “An old man's memory isn ’t good for_ much. you know." 1 , - "You married us. sfr; my name Day. Peter Day ig- my‘hu‘glganq.”' 'V W 0‘) uwvvv- _â€"_- She was conscious of a sense of relief that the room did not look asit did the night that she and Peter had stood upI to be married. The furniture had been . moved about, and itwas daylight inâ€" stead of lamplight, and through the open window she could see Pleasant; hanging over the dashâ€"board stroking: Captain, who was nibbling at the grass 3 by the path. _ __ . ‘a ' She. tried to while too, felt stiff. his spectacles had been pushed back and rested on his -white hair, which stood up very stiff and straight. “Come in,” he said, abruptly; and Mary, feel- ing herself worsted, retired, mutterâ€" ing. to the kitchen. Mrs. Day followed the minister into the study. but when he closed the door behind her and pointed toachair. and said, cheerfully. "And what can Ido for you, ma'am ?" she could hardly find her voice to answer him. but her face my mung is if he only wasn't so guuu... She was red and then white ; she held her shaking lip between her teeth. and looked out at Pleasant. “There is help, my. frte She seemed to grasp 3 “0h. sir. if you'll tell me what to.do -Well. it's this; you see. you married e didn't 3 play. Well. before I me what I want to tell youâ€"" “DO not tell me," . ~, "Don't tell you 7" She looked at him , in a bewildered way. "Is there any reparation to make? 15 there 8“filling to be set right ?” ”No” she said, with a sob; “oh no! inothing can make it right." t “Then it is not necessary for me to i know, to advise you. Let us say, for the «sake of argument, that it's the worst thing that could be. Now, my dear ' Mrs. Day, the worst thing that could ‘be. differs for every one of us. It JmESht be murder for one person; it " mfght be a lie for another person; it ‘mlght be the preaching of the gospel .I for somebody else. But say it's your tworst. Do you doubt your husband’s : forgiveness ?" i. ."I don't think he'd even call it for- giveness," she said, after a pause, twisting and untwisting the corner of her handkerchief with trembling finâ€" ? gers.“ “Peter just-Tloves me that’s all. 9 _ _-I .1 1......+ 'anor “U vâ€"v- â€"-v ”saws-VG does riot really spare youâ€"don't you know that? It only spares him! Sil- ence in agony to you sometimes. Won. sense of sin in the human soul is the apprehension of Almighty God. Your salvation has drawn nigh unto you! Now take your suffering; bear it, sanc- tity it, lift it up; let it. bring you near- er to your Saviour. But do not, do not, put it on shoulders where it does not belong. Do not stab your hus- band’s heart by weakly, selfishlyâ€"sel- fishiy, mind you lâ€"telling him of a. past with which it is too Late now for him to concern himself.” “Listen," he said, with a sudden stern dignity; he was the priest, in- stead of the kindly old man; “you have sinned long ago. I don’t know howâ€" I don't want to know. But it is pass- ed, and there is no reparation to make. You have sinned, and suffered for your sin; you have asked your Heavenly Fa- ther to forgive you, and! He has forgiv- en you. But still you suffer. Woman be thankful that you can suffer; the worst trouble in the world is the trouble that does not know God, and so does not suffer. Without such knowledge there is no suffering. The “\Vhat‘?” she ‘said, breathlesslyâ€" “not tell him ‘3” “Then have you any right to make him share your punishment? You say that if he knew this old sin of yours. you could forget it; but would be for- get it? Youwould pay a great price for forgetfulness my dear friend, if you took him inlothe shadow in which you walk. Have you ever thought you might be selfish in not being willing to bear this weight alone ‘2" _ "Yes; you must not; shirk your pun- ishm nt" he. said, showly. “But there's one thing we must find out; does your husband deserve any punishment?" “Peter!” she cried. “Why, he never did anything wrong in his life !" A quick understanding came intaner face. “I know what you mean. I've thought, sometimes I’d like to be a, Ca- tholic and have penances; I could beat myself to death. and call it hap- piness 1” she ended, passionately. “‘Part of your punishment.’ You would not wish to escape any part of it. of course? There is a, great sat- 1sfaction in punishment." such a reliet. 1 think, u as knew it, I could forget it. I lie awake nights. thinking and thinking how I can tell him till my mind's sore, I often think to myself that I'll tell him as soon as he wakes up.” She stopped, and swallowed once or twice, and press- ed her lips together as though to force has" tears. "And then. again, I feel as though I would die if I told him. Why, Peter thinks I am about perfect, Ibelieve. It sounds foolish to say that, but it’s true, sir. It would be likeâ€"like 1 don't know whatâ€"like stab- bing him. I don't moan he'd be unkind to me, or anything like that. It isn’t that that scares me. But it would be like putting a knife into him. But perhaps that’s part of my punishment,” she ended, wretchedly. 80!" “You have a good husband. I am sure of that," he said, quietly. ."And your question. as I understand 1t, 15, shall you tell him some grievous fault. committed before you knew him? I can say at once"-â€"Elizabeth looked ghastlyâ€"“that you ought to have told hlm begore you mal‘rled‘nim." A- n -1... 5.: "\vaAv vu au;---_vâ€" {'So I ought to tell'him now." she sand, in a whisper. “Do you want to tell him?" “Oh, sometimes it seems as if Iwould die if I didn’t," she said. “It would be such a relief. I think, if he knew _it leVI'owtilâ€"câ€"r'.” Pleésant' called from the garden path. “may I go and see the minister’s bees ?" Dr. Lavender went to the window and told her cheerfully that she might. "But you must not touch the hives. remember," he cautioned her. And then he came and sat. down again at his table. He took off his spectacles and put them into a little shabby case; then he passed his hand over his eyes once or twice. to know. Well, 1‘ am " "w” just the kindest man in t It’s his being so good. 3" other men. He don't have of thoughts they (10- He do: stand some thi118'5"“°t an): I pleasant does. on. P if he only wasn't so good!" 59100 #UICL Jugu -.v-v~ But it wouldâ€"oh, it would hurt Peter Well, it ain't} the inestinct~ 'Eo ' ' . 3' I'm not t.h-1nk1ng, 'Shall I tell Peteg . . .. to keep_t_h_inking I'm_ deoenvnng hnm? A‘- Jnnnifl‘fifl him bon't deny it; don't be arena to own it to yourselLâ€"that would be ungrat- itude to your Father in heaven. In- stead, thank Him that you am good! And no“' listen: I charge you bear the burden of silence. because you love your husband, and he is good." Elizabeth looked at him. rapt, ab- sorbed. “I am not to bei'afraid that it is for my own wicked fear that I am not telling him? No.! it isn't that, it isn't that! I know it isn't. For his sake -â€"for his sakeâ€"" “Yes, for his sake." But he looked at her pityingly. Would this comfort of deliberately chosen pain be temporary? “Try." he said, “and think that you stand be- tween him and pain; take all the mis- ery yourself; be glad to take it. Don't let it reach him." "If I think of it that way." she said, breathlessly, “Iâ€"I can love it !” ' “Think of it that way always." He made her sit down again. and went out. to find Pleasant. leaving her with the peace of one solemnly slate All things considered. therefore. the country will have plenty of cash. There will be no danger ofashorta‘ge. aQtT'Ehev i‘eéognition of the cross on which she must agonize for the hap- piness of some_ 9ther _souL. ‘ A ‘A râ€".---._. _ “Suppose..." said Dr. Lawendanwatch- ing the huggy pulling up the hill. "sup- pose I hadn't found her a good woman and a good wife, and a good motherâ€" should Ihave told her to hold her tongue? \Vell, I’m thankful it wasn’t that kind of a question! Lord, I'm glad Thou hast all us puzzled peoyyle in Thy wise keeping. Come. Danny. let's go and see the hees."â€"Mnr~garet Deland in Harper’s Monthly. As the war enlarges and the opera- tions of the army and navy expand more and more money will be needed. but it will be forthcoming. Two hun- dred million of war bonds are sold and will flow into the treasury. There is already in the, strong lioxa balance of something like $250,000,000, and the iccession of the cash on the bond sale will bring the. treasure up to the value of nearly $500 030,000. A: €h= tn rmous cost of 31000000 per dienlayear’s war would foot. up an expense bill of only 5365.000 000. from! an to 30 lodgings, and 10'1“! over 30 lodgings each. Seventy-five thous- and at these lodging-n are composed of one room' only. and inhabited by no fem: than 270.000 ma. ' ‘ What It (‘osts the l'fi. Io (furry on War- \‘0 [Danger urn Shortage. Hostili: ies with Spain are costing the people of the. United States 31.000000 3 day says a Washington despatch. That is a heavy price to pay for war's glories. hut sofar as can be learned here where the pulse of the public can be best felt. the expenditure pleases the na- tion's taxpayers. Fully 6100000 000 has been paid out .hus far for expenses incurred by the war of humanity. These figures are calculated on the basis of the cost of defence during normal times. The expenditures for national defence (army and navy) this year exceed 875.- 000.000, over and above what. it cost last year. and this excess is attribut- able to only one causeâ€"war. The demand [or ready cashislarge- 1y supplied by the special war tax which is now in full blast, and which is turning large sums into the tre- sury daily; The receipts from this source to date from. J uly 1 amount to taken in before the new stamp act. 310000000, more than double the sum went into effect. Officials of the Treasury Depart- ment have no fear of embarrassment. What with the added receipts from the stamp tax, with the great, revenue from the customs. and with other sour- :es of revenue. the country will be in apretty fair way of being able to pay its bills. Carpets can be cleaned without re- moving them from the floor by a new machine. which has metal strips set. inside a casing to beat the carpet as the cleaner runs over the flow, a fan being mounted in the top of the eas- ing to draw the dust. into a water compartment, which has an air pasp sage covered by e. moistened screen to retain the dust particles. Of this $75.000,000 more than two- thirds has been spent on the army. The excess for the navy has amounted to 1525000000. It should be remem- bered that these sums represent only the actual numey already paid out. They take. no account whatever of the vast sums that must be paid later. and for which crmtracts have already been made. Onacash transaction basis the war has been costing the country about $1.000,000aday since July 1. CLEANING CARPETS‘ BERLIN‘S HOUSES. A MILLION A DAY. He is the “is?“ Who by confirm! «'3 discovers the 2““ doing good. and m opposition that 11“ opportunitiw.-â€"l)0d W hat right haw ' secrets of othexs.’ ' taie that is guhlt‘l cam is it of uuwz’r Nothing; sharp-11v cafim so keenty :m polishes it. Nu mp: We clothe wiah :1 s with a 'mW.-â€"(‘ht-~29 There are mum volnuw, only nnw tually creat: HM} Sidney Smith. Incl I’M II “no Siamese Inlay MI Beat-h 0f KIWI. It is somewhat interesting teem tare the Weights carried by Plephm in the tinprodueing districts of t] Malay peninsula “iih tin-me usedintl long journeys and mountain country of the Lao states. In then insult). the distances are seldomm than at: most three or four days'mnl and the elephant is expected to an as much as 900 or 1.00:: pounds. heal his mahout and huwda. The latteri oftenarnere brace of panniem sin together so as in rest one on can“ of the harkhnne. and amend somet‘l withalight' burr ll rmf of bark. 1 good tusker whieh will carry I pounds will fetch ain'ul £5tL andt female whit'h can bear 900 pouM worth about £45. In the Laofi where journeys uf ten days or 3: weeks are frequent. the averagett' hardly exceeds 3m pounds. or one-tit! of what its urtuai in the peninsula. 1| prices in various parts, of the comm Vary considerably. When we met the Me Kawng and in Muang 5‘ in 1893.a.good lurker could be had“ £32 andafemale fur £24; at CM Mai \t here good tetk-huu ingtl PM are ingrea‘t demand. a tuzslielllII £50 to £100. accttrtllng to her strefliI and ability. ‘ 1n the Siamese Malay states W are probably about 1.000 domestm" 9139111an all tild ant in theL'IW' try probably m'er 3.5000 annuals ‘1 Working at the {.t'eh‘t‘m mnntt'ni._ 1‘ these animals lll't‘Pti in cuntmtgl Siam is due to the fuel than ‘3“- number of them <pend . i part of their time lmliday weft?“ the jungle, When there 1" “9“" [l his beast, the muhtvut takes him,“ anioe, 0001, green bit t leaves him there tn h“ There is no expense (-nnneclpd “}~ I upkeep for he 1‘ 0k< after hlm‘e]: fl hasahobble of rattan round he“ to dissuade him from \xanderlftflnd far, andawooden bell round h” t ‘ by the tone at unit}. the mahmt his little. boy can . When they go nut . look him up and give ht BRIS. 01le bim'd msome No man ever did t9 another but ML did a greater tn h: . ' 18‘1“" .had recewed L}- the use of ,_ liams’ Pink Plll~i, and held out by llgvil‘ lestimonials cured a gumbly and 100k mun ing to directiuns. The ' ‘ most magical; iuuumiiatelv his V toms began l (ll 93("119 able, and he steadily g:' be is perfectly “VP from his 01 bles. He gladly :md {reply testimonial, that all who may know tlw rmnwly if ever 1 are troubled “i111 general dehi‘ .in.‘ Dr. \Viniumc l’ir}k_l’ills cure‘w Nothing 11):"!‘0‘ ‘10?!" earth produce than an â€"An.sonius. If honesty (ii/l t9 Invent. it. as If; ting richâ€"Mimi): \Iuvlul‘ . . Dr. “'illiams’ Pink Pills cure going td the. root of the disc“. renew and build up the blood, strengthen tho nerves, thus dri' disease from the system. Them“ can only he had in boxes, the around which bears the MI! mark, “Dr. \Villimns’ Pink Pills Pale People.” e The greatem fumné‘sfi s melHC’. ""‘I (’1):f"§:\'\\. I 1‘38 mnununc 1m. (h in at ge leads tn \‘.m.~,«-W‘:I Kindness is “.i‘“ life. but. nemlb u Halley. A Il.‘ COST OF ELEPHANTS. GRAINS OF GOLD. be) [1124) Doddl idfi‘ daily the“ r- and mi: HO 1U S!!! gust 11 ng we “hi d 395.an ll} II 1K mug 13' “e in . ccessfully. arei t of v 800d feeding; {m M lummer shoots am cu .u so tar as they are { N] “we”. The summe M on ' on the ounlrai “awn" Wood shouldlm‘ “I "Pry autumn. the 1'!" in ”3%“ up ‘0 med Ill this country the few variflt m thnt are used are grew Nun tor it. This is a mismkd Th IQ- of the cleman is an" 111-" ‘ mi shade it will wean) i m wont a. coarse mesh m. ‘Wlll 91"“. t wire net Ian‘ki .010 Guily trained to than '1 “ll 50 which the stems must “- 11“! backing Shuuld he i lay advocate the use of lmt {hum weather and considm it taken idea that cold drinks :nv tut] to relieve thirst. Be tint In] H “certain that very mm thy increase the feverish thottbe mouth and stoma-J1. : Nae the very mndithm I lit to be alleviated. lxperienoe has shown that but :fltb'. the thirst and CHM} the! M tt is unduly heulmt, in 1 Mn! Runner than ice-mid t m Will. of oourlc. not is 'lC by. ell. hut those whn are tr M'nuch thirst might do “ms. tn th advantages to be «19mm M. tether than cold, drinks a“ drink: have the addition "It". of nidinc digestion inst EMU” affecting the stumrm lilo syrup left, from canned fr mot kind, may .m 6"» 95,31?!“ .1 in the same way. will“! one' of auspice slowly for two hours or 1110” war it «ill keep “911211 on» L thick paper covers fastened (we depart spoonfuls in a tumlm nth water. and stirred vwll 1L very refreshing d_rink. mum EASILY G R0“. do nOt PM tak- thc juice of flu :ho rind of one of ihe ‘1'] thin. getting jl IMO. Cut ‘hlfl in“ th the juice and two valuable du the ice “'(‘S‘ la‘